#he was in fact right about this. unsurprisingly
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So!
Delphine.
One of the last Blades, undercover as an inn owner, hates all things dragony, bossyass old Breton lady. Like all Skyrim characters, she's underused and underdeveloped in the vanilla game.
I have thoughts on her now.
Warning: SPOILERS FOR A BARD'S TALE BY GABBICAV (link to the story here)
I was going through and revamping one of my old Dragonborns I hadn't worked with in a while*. And I got an idea for a scene that happens right after the fight at Kynesgrove. Minerva and Michel** drag Delphine out of town to finally get an explanation as to who she is.
And as I was writing her dialogue, I realized that her motivation isn't just about the Blades.
Of course she wants to reform the Blades, that much is obvious, but I don't think that's the end of it. It's not just the Blades she wants back, she wants everything back: the Dragonborn, the Empire being whole, and the Blades being the Emporer's most trusted bodyguards.
Delphine wants the Third Era back, or at least the idealized version of it she has in her head. As far as she's concerned, everything started going wrong as soon as Martin died.
Here's a quick quote from what I wrote that I think helps lay it out:
“That’s what we’ve been doing since the fourth era began. We’ve been waiting for a new Dragonborn, a new emperor, to appear, and become the true heirs of the Empire.” Michel let out a low whistle. “True heirs, huh? The Mede dynasty might have an issue with that.” Delphine scowled. “The Medes can go suck an egg. Ever since Martin Septim sacrificed himself, the Empire has been going downhill! If there’s one thing these past two centuries have proven, it’s that only a Dragonborn can keep Tamriel together!”
Of course we know this isn't entirely true. While the Empire did fall apart in the Fourth Era, cracks were already starting to show even back in the Third Era, what with the Simulacrum and the War of the Red Diamond and all. The Third Era might have been more stable, but it was hardly peaceful.
But Delphine either doesn't know this or doesn't care. She wants that idealized vision back.
A while back, I read A Bard's Tale by Gabbicav on AO3 (if you like bards, intrigue, sibling rivalry, and a new perspective on dragons, this is for you).
Delphine is (probably unsurprisingly) an antagonist in the story. I'm going to put what exact actions she takes between spoiler warnings just in case.
In the story, Delphine, not the Dark Brotherhood, assassinates Titus Mede on his visit to Skyrim. At the time I believed it was simply for narrative convenience and to make her more villainous, but thinking about it from this new perspective it makes sense: Delphine views the Medes as imposters unworthy of the throne. They're not Dragonborn, that's why the Blades didn't serve them and why the Penitus Oculatus had to be created.
Plus, y'know, she probably hates him on a personal level for signing the Concordat.
Anyways, I forget if she and Esbern work with the Stormcloaks in the story or if they just happen to also be an antagonistic force, but her working with Ulfric wouldn't be out of character.
You see, Ulfric:
a) Hates the (current) Empire
b) Hates the Thalmor
c) Has charisma enough to have at least a cult following
d) Obviously doesn't agree with the Greybeards because he left their order
e) Idolizes Tiber Septim/Talos
Add to that the fact he can Shout, even if he isn't actually Dragonborn, it might be tempting for Delphine to forge an allience.
Hell, maybe that was her original plan before the dragons and last Dragonborn showed up.
And now she has someone better then Ulfric: a real live Dragonborn that can absorb souls and kill dragons. Who can shout naturally. A true heir to the Ruby Throne.
All that goes a long way towards explaining her behavior. First, she makes sure you're the real deal. Then she sets you on the path to seeing the atrocities the Thalmor commit (even if they're not actually behind the return of the dragons) and reopening the old Blades temple.
And it explains why she's so huffy about Paarthunax. She and the Blades are supposed to be your most trusted advisors, not a dragon who's committed several atrocities (let's ignore that was thousands of years ago and he's been trying to make up for it since)! She has the very specific idea of what a Dragonborn is, and when you inevitable don't measure up to that for whatever reason, she gets angry.
Delphine is a frustrating character, even with development. She longs for a bygone era of peace that didn't ever exist, where she and those in her organization were held with the highest respect and not hunted down and killed, where the Thalmor don't exist, and all is right with the world (in her view).
And that is why you will never change her mind.
...sounds pretty familiar. Maybe she and Ulfric should team up after all...
*Minerva, if you're curious, may post art of her and her brother soon...if I remember...
**Previously known as Gildas, he's become Minerva's twin dragonborn instead of her older mundane brother
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isa-renee · 1 year ago
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not me listening to these days by jackson browne for like a good five or six hours straight today
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mekanikaltrifle · 1 year ago
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"Impact"
Malcolm Awakened when he died. He was hit by a car in the early hours of the morning and was medically dead for a little under ten minutes, until the efforts of paramedics stalled the nearly irreversible damage... however when he returned to the world of the waking, many days later, he realised things were not as they once were. The world around him was decaying, and fate rang in the air like truths-- what could be suddenly illuminated in disturbing clarity.
Now infused with an innate knowledge of the Spheres of Correspondence, Matter, Prime and Entropy, he would be pulled into a life yet stranger than the one he left behind, and this second chance would come with a vengeance.
Just what could it all mean? Is there a greater purpose to his return? Or is life just a very fickle thing...?
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alexiroflife · 4 months ago
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jjk men when you aren't feeling well but try to hide it...
"hello! i was wondering if you could write an angst but w comfort fluff headcannon w the jjk men? i was thinking reader has an injury or is sick but she hides it, but they find out. it would be great if you can, but if not i totally understand. your writing is amazing!!!" -anon
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gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna
satoru gojo: (sprained ankle!)
you're fucked.
you know you are the moment you go to pick yourself up from your boyfriend's hardwood kitchen floors and wince in pain in reaction to the pressure in your left ankle.
you hiss, immediately stumbling back to a sitting position. You look over your outstretched foot to find that your ankle is rapidly swelling, and you curse under your breath.
this is so inconvenient. of all times to injure yourself, you of course had to a day before an important mission. you never handle injuries very well. you are always so quick to brush them off, or at least be in denial about them because you can't stand the thought of feeling helpless or incapable.
especially not when satoru gojo is your boyfriend, who unfortunately knows you far too well to overlook something like an injury to your ankle.
damn. what are you supposed to do? satoru will never let you out of his sight, let alone allow you to go on this mission if he finds out about your injury. as much as you love the way he looks after you, you're not in the mood to accept the fact that you may not be able to walk for a few days without his help.
you try to stand again, stubborn with determination. you grip onto the countertop and rise slowly on your able foot, then lean to press your injured foot down slowly. okay... not so bad! Maybe you can add just a little bit more pressure, and-
"fuck," you curse, sharp pain throbbing through your foot the moment you try to walk. You lift your leg immediately and whimper, leaning your body against the counter. "god dammit," you pout.
you should ice it, you think, but icing it will only make the injury more real. maybe it's not so bad, right? maybe if you just sit down for a bit and push it to the back of your head, it will go away?
you know it's not smart, but truthfully, you don't have the time to worry about a stupid ankle. you're sure you only irritated it. with some rest, you'll be fine.
you hop your way up the stairs with your hand gripping the railing tightly to your shared bedroom and ease yourself into bed. you decide you'll take a nap while you wait for satoru to come home, ignoring the simmering pain in your swollen ankle.
"babyyy!"
you wake suddenly to the sound of satoru's voice singing through the house. you jump and immediately hold in a whimper of pain when you accidentally shift your foot beneath the covers. you can tell solely by the lack of mobility in your ankle that it's, unsurprisingly, gotten worse.
you panic, moving quickly to prop your back up against the headboard. you fix yourself in the most normal possible position you can without agitating your foot, and you turn to the door with an innocent expression the second satoru bursts through with a beam.
"hey, pretty," he walks in and immediately crouches over the bed to wrap you up in a hug. you cringe as his lips meet every crook of your face, his body enveloping you in warmth. "missed you so much today," he sighs.
"missed you too, toru," you wrap your arms around his back. "how was your day?"
"same old same old. the higher-ups only get more annoying each day, if that's even possible," he grumbles into your ear, slumping against you. "what are you doing cooped up here all by yourself? you taking a nap?"
"yeah, I just woke up," you tell him with a hefty exhale, his lips meeting the crook of your neck lazily as he nuzzles into you. "you wanna take one with me, you big baby?" you giggle.
"god yes," satoru agrees. "but first, I'm starving. did you eat while I was gone?"
"nah, I waited for you, toru."
"well, you normally cook, baby, I was waiting for you."
you momentarily freeze and he pulls back reluctantly, not before dotting one more kiss to the crook of your jaw. you had completely forgotten about making dinner, but seeing how you couldn't even walk, those cards were off the table.
he looks down at you with his arms propped on either side of your figure on the bed. your ankle continues to throb, and while you try to hide the pain that you are currently in by shifting ever so subtly beneath him, his sapphire eyes catch the twitch in your brow and the motion of your body beneath his blindfold.
"not that I care if you cook or not. obviously you were tired..." he trails off. "you okay?"
fucking hell, damn those six eyes.
you nod despite yourself, keeping a soft smile as you brush your fingers over satoru's hair. "yeah, of course. just tired like you said. I'm sorry about dinner, it slipped my mind."
"don't you dare apologize," he ducks down to kiss your cheek loudly. "we can go out to eat. make it a date before your big mission tomorrow, yeah?"
you internally deflate. the idea sounds amazing, but going on a date would mean getting up, getting dressed, and walking out the door. you're unfortunately physically incapable of doing any of the above at the moment.
satoru watches the way your shoulders slump and your lips part as if to protest, and he tilts his head in slight confusion. "...or not..." he says slowly.
"sorry, toru, it's not that I don't wanna go, i just don't have the energy..." you excuse pathetically.
satoru's face tells you that he doesn't buy your words, but he complies nonetheless. "that's no problem, baby, we can order in instead."
you sigh and nod with a gentle smile. "that sounds great."
"someone's feeling real lazy today, huh?" he teases, hooking his finger into his blindfold to peel it from his face, revealing his bright irises gazing curiously down at you. "you sure you're just tired?"
"yeah... why?"
"i'm just askin," he says. his eyes dart over you one more time before he pushes himself up with an exhale and tugging at your arm. "come on, let's go to the living room to order."
why the hell does he want to move around so much?!
"um- why can't we just order here?"
a smile quirks on Satoru's lips as though you've made a joke. "cause, we'll be downstairs once the food gets here," he says.
you pucker your lips slightly and tilt your head. "can't we just eat it up here and you can go get it?"
gojo's eyes are now slim with suspicion as he pulls himself back over to you. "i mean, of course i can but you never eat takeout in bed, we always cuddle downstairs and eat."
"I'm tired, can't i change it up today?"
"you know i have no problem doing what you want and pampering you baby," satoru starts slowly. his eyes dash to your legs, and he suddenly notes that he has not seen you bend them in the few minutes he has been home. in fact, you had been rather stagnant instead of running up to clobber him when he entered the room, whether you were previously asleep or not. "but you're acting a little weird."
"no, I'm not," you deny adamantly. you have always been a poor liar, but in the face of Satoru Gojo, your lack of talent in the arena only proves to be more prominent. "you think too much, you know that?"
"you think so?" he raises a brow at you, a hint of playfulness remaining though it is steadily fleeting the longer he examines you. "you think i'm thinking too much if i feel like you're lying to me?"
you press your lips together tightly. "...yes."
"hm," he nods. "come here for a second, pretty," he requests, stepping back a bit to give you room to stand. "just real quick, then you can lay back down and I'll get us that food."
"why do you want me to stand?"
"i wanna give you a big hug," he opens his arms widely. "c'mon, give your loving boyfriend a hug. you'd never deny me that after such a long day."
"come hug me here, then," you roll your eyes, turning to look the other way as heat overtakes your body.
"i want to hold you and pick you up," he argues, knowingly. "just stand and walk to me for one second."
"no."
"no?!"
"no, i don't want to."
"don't want to or you can't?" he accuses, face falling along with his arms. he moves to sit at the edge of the bed beside your legs, resting a hand over your uninjured one. "why can't you get up?" he asks, this time a tad more serious.
"i don't feel like it, satoru, god," you murmur in annoyance, growing agitated with his swiftness to notice that something is wrong.
"don't 'satoru' me, baby, you're the one not telling the truth," he says. "what's wrong with your legs?"
"nothing."
"then stand up."
"no, satoru. stop telling me to stand."
"i will if you tell me what's wrong."
"nothing's wrong!" you shrug harshly, crossing your arms and suddenly taking interest in whatever is outside of the bedroom window. satoru stares at you intently for a moment then back down at your covered legs.
he gazes harshly between the two, pondering, before reaching over to rip the comforter upward to reveal your bare feet. you gasp slightly, jerking to stop him, when your swollen ankle is revealed.
his brows immediately angle and he leans to hastily look over it. "(y/n), what the hell?! what happened to your foot?"
you grow embarrassed suddenly, moving to brush his hands away. "it's not that bad, stop," you say, going to move your leg to the side when you hiss sharply.
"not that bad? baby, your ankle's the size of a golfball!"
"satoru, you're being dramatic."
"what happened?" he asks, concerned. "did this happen while I was gone?"
"it's fine, relax."
"(y/n)," satoru begins sternly. you can tell that you've pinched a nerve. "i'm about to lose it if you don't tell me how this happened and why you were trying to hide it from me."
you frown. "But-"
"Now."
you hug your arms around yourself with another meek shrug. "it's humiliating..." you murmur.
satoru softens slightly. "baby, humiliating? i'm worried about you getting hurt."
"yeah, but-" you sigh and close your eyes, your emotions suddenly getting the best of you. you hate feeling small and weak, as though you can't handle yourself, and you swear every time you injure yourself or get sick, it's the worst possible thing that could happen in the entire world. "i don't know. whatever."
"uh uh uh," your white-haired boyfriend tuts, leaning over the smooth his hand over your leg comfortingly. "it's not 'whatever.' i know exactly how you are. you can't fool me. is this about your mission tomorrow?"
"it's not just about the mission, toru, i just don't- i hate it when i can't do stuff on my own."
"you don't have to tell me something i'm already well aware of." you give him a look. "don't look at me like that. i know you like the back of my hand, and i especially know when you're uncomfortable."
"i get it, toru," you frown.
"why the attitude, hm?" he asks, leaning over to prop his elbow on the other side of you, his body resting against your lap as he peers up at you gently. "it's okay to get hurt- well, no, it's not okay for you to get hurt because it makes me wanna die, but you get what I mean."
your lips twitch in amusement momentarily, leading satoru to grin widely.
"there's that pretty smile."
"it's just-" you huff. "it was such a stupid thing... i rolled my ankle stepping down from closing the cabinets and when it started getting worse, i thought it was so dumb that something so small did that to me so i left it alone. now it's probably twisted, and i just feel really..."
"you're not weak," satoru interjects urgently. "if that's what you're saying, which i'm pretty sure you are. you're far from what i would call weak."
"still. it still made me feel weak. and i'm supposed to go on that mission tomorrow, and i don't know what the hell i'm gonna tell yaga-"
"forget the mission."
"...satoru, i can't just-"
"you can and you will. you have an injury, baby. you can't walk. it's okay, i'll talk to yaga and he'll get someone else on the assignment while I take care of you."
"but the fact that you even have to do that because i was clumsy!" you shake your head and look down. "it's so ridiculous. and i knew you were gonna worry..."
"of course i'm gonna worry, (y/n). no less than you'd worry for me."
"but you're you."
"so? do you worry for me any less because of that?"
"i mean... i know you're always gonna be fine, but... yeah, i guess."
"you guess?" satoru scoffs. "to think, my girlfriend doesn't care about me..."
"oh shut up," you nudge his head away. his grin remains, face turning back to you as he captures you in his soft gaze. "obviously I worry."
"then, there you go," satoru says. his free hand runs over your hip. "i know you can handle yourself just fine and that you're strong as hell, but whether you're going on a mission or stubbing your toe, I'm worrying 'cause i love you."
you pout slightly. "I love you too."
"i know," he beams, kissing your thigh. "so stop with that. as if you'd ever be weak for getting a little boo boo."
"yeah, but now you're not gonna let me do anything," you whine.
"is there really such a big problem with that?" satoru smirks. "try hiding an injury from me again, and you really won't be able to do anything. now let me see."
he pushes himself up to round the edge of the bed. he kneels down and cradles your foot in his hand delicately, fingers grazing the area of swelling. his brow angles. "can you move it?"
you shake your head slowly. "not without it hurting."
"in all seriousness, baby, you need to take better care of yourself. why didn't you ice it?"
"...i wanted it to go away."
"and you walked up the stairs after rolling your ankle?!"
"i wanted to get into bed!"
satoru lowers his head. "what am i gonna do with you? you're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days."
"it's really not that serious. i just need to rest it a bit and then I'll be fine-"
"i'm gonna go cook you some dinner, okay? then we can eat in bed and cuddle, and then I'll run you a hot bath later."
"satoru, i just said it's not that serious! please don't go burning down the house because of my ankle. we can literally still order food," you try to convince him, but the blue-eyed man is already on his feet, by your side, and kissing your lips.
"not another word. you're practically dying, now, i have to look after you."
"toru-"
"i'll be right back, i'm gonna grab you some ice and a pillow for your foot."
"satoru!"
but when you call him, he's already zooming out of the room and down the stairs. you sigh and plop your head back against the headboard with a soft smile. as humiliating as you find it to be injured, you can never say that gojo doesn't do everything he can, if not excessively more, to look after you when you are.
suguru geto: (cold!)
shit.
you step into the bathroom for the umpteenth time today to blow your nose, clearing your searing throat as you do so with a groan.
something in you knew this morning that you were coming down with a cold when you woke up to that dreadful scratch in the back of your throat, but the idea of getting sick physically ails you more than actually being sick does.
you're far too busy today to be weighed down by some common cold. you're in between meetings at work as you toss another tissue into the women's trash. You have paperwork to finish filling out by midnight, and you have to pick up the girls later from daycare.
how can you be sick of all things?
you know it's likely because you run yourself ragged more often than you need to, and suguru always tells you to slow down and take a breath, but you rarely listen to him. your life moves at a quick pace, constantly on the run from one task to the next, and you truly do not feel that you have the leisure of giving yourself one second to rest.
you're on the verge of earning a new promotion, and you need the money. you need the opportunities, and the accomplishments to care for the family you've built with geto. just as suguru works tirelessly to manage his cult, you work tirelessly to keep a living for yourself.
you're proud of the work you have done, truly you are, but at times it feels as though you are amounting to nothing, chasing promises of a higher position that have yet to come. despite the haziness of the path ahead, you push harder and harder each day.
suguru hates it, how you drive yourself to the brink of insanity day in and day out, but you can't help but be an overachiever. you can't help but work hard for those who may not even deserve it.
and now, of course, you're sick. you can feel your temperature spiking, your nose is stuffy, and your head is pounding. you want to go home and curl into bed, but you have responsibilities to fulfill. just a few more hours... then you're home with geto, with the girls, safe in bed just to wake up and do it all over again tomorrow.
you jump when your phone suddenly rings in your pocket. you pull it out to see your boyfriend's contact, and you straighten yourself up as best as you can to make it sound as though you aren't struggling to breathe through your nostrils.
"hello?"
"hey, babe, how's work going?" suguru's soothing voice echoes through the phone and you sigh, clinging to the comfort his tone provides. you miss him. you want to go home already.
"it's good," you lie. "i have a few more meetings. then some paperwork to finish, but I'll be able to get mimi and nana on time."
"actually, i called to tell you not to worry about that. i got finished up here with the group pretty early, so i'll be able to get them later."
you're relieved that you won't have to expose the girls to your germs in the car. "okay, thanks for letting me know. you need me to pick up some food on the way home?"
"no, we're gonna make pizzas later. the girls have been dying to try it making it from scratch forever, so i'll take them to the store once i get them."
"...oh. okay..." you nod. "there's nothing else you need me to do then?"
"just to come home in one piece," suguru says. "i'm trying to take some stuff off your plate, (y/n). you've been exhausted, and you can't tell me otherwise."
"sugu, I'm fine," you dismiss him, only to turn your head into your elbow to muffle a cough. you forget to mute the call when you do so.
"what was that? are you okay?" the dark-haired man questions quickly. "you're not sick, are you?"
"no, no," you deny fast, voice slightly hoarse. you clear your throat quickly. "something was just- stuck in my throat. but I'm fine. i'm not sick."
suguru's quiet for a moment, and you chew on the inside of your lip while you wait for him to respond. you know it's impossible to fool suguru, especially when it comes to matters regarding you or the girls, but you can't handle him worrying over you right now. his concerns would only bring you back to reality, pulling you from this cycle of overworking you've fallen into. you need to keep going. You can't stop, and if suguru knows you're sick, he will make you stop.
"suguru? you there?" you finally say.
"oh yeah, i'm here," he responds rather quickly, and you internally curse yourself. "what time do you get off?"
"uhhh..." you think about it for a moment. it's 3:30 now, and technically you only have an hour and a half left, but since the girls will be picked up by Suguru, you realize you can finish your paperwork in the office. "today's kind of a long day... so I probably won't be home until... 7?"
"(Y/n)."
"i know, i know, but listen, i just have to finish up this paperwork. that's all."
"weren't you just gonna do it at home?"
"well, yeah, but since you're getting the girls, it's kinda easier for me to finish it here..." you start mumbling lowly, knowing that whatever explanation you give is not one that suguru will willingly accept.
"babe, please just come home at a normal time today. you can't keep doing this to yourself."
"i promise it won't be past 7. i swear. just let me get this done, and I'll be home."
suguru releases a hefty sigh, and you can picture him rubbing his thumb against his forehead in stress. "7 o'clock, (y/n). i mean it. if you're so much as five minutes late, i'm coming over there myself with rainbow dragon."
you chuckle softly. "i promise it won't get to that. i'll be fine, alright? i'll text you when I'm headed out."
"okay. I'll see you in a bit."
after your meetings had ended, your cold symptoms grew worse. your coughs were more frequent, a pile of tissues were stacked at your cubicle, and the glare of your computer screen felt as though it was burning a hole into your already aching head.
you feel miserable, and as luck would have it, your boss placed a new stack of papers onto your desk to finish filling out before you went home on his way out of the door.
you're alone in the office now, surrounded by excess assignments, and you can hardly breathe through your nose. you check the time, and its thirty to the time you told suguru you'd be home. you groan, rubbing your hands over your face.
you're tired. your bones are aching. you want to be with the girls, you want to be home, you don't want to do this anymore. you're so burned out, it hurts, and you want to cry and collapse face-first onto your desk at the same time.
just then, your phone lights up with a message from suguru. you open it eagerly to be greeted with an image of the girls beaming up at the camera in the kitchen, hands covered in tomato sauce as they display them to the phone. beneath the photo, suguru types.
we miss you :(
you break, placing your phone down and shielding your face in your hands as the tears flow. god, you miss spending time with them. you're hardly home anymore because you've been so busy with work, and you're yearning to be held by your boyfriend, to hear the girls laugh, to sink into the bed combined with your deteriorating physical state makes you feel worse.
you miss having a life.
you don't know how long you spend crying in your empty office before your body shuts down on you completely. the energy you exerted shedding tears in addition to your long days at work send you into a deep sleep. before you know it, you're knocked out with your cheek pressed against one of your unfinished papers.
the second you failed to answer Suguru's text, he knew something was wrong. he calls, and calls, and calls after twenty minutes, but you don't answer. He wastes absolutely no time in calling up manami to look after the girls before trekking out of the house to you with rainbow dragon, just as he promised.
he's prepared to break a window when he sees the janitor leaving the building. he takes the opportunity to swoop in through the doors after grumbling something about his girlfriend being inside, before making his way up to you.
when he reaches your office, he finds you lying in the only occupied cubicle. His eyes go wide as he studies your slumped figure, walking slowly to where you're seated. he notes the tissues and cough drop wrappers crowding your space, then the tears that coat your lashes when he kneels down.
"jesus, (y/n)," he murmurs, swiftly getting to work and clearing your desk of all your trash. when he's done, he crouches by you again and runs a hand over your back. "baby, wake up for me. come on," he coaxes softly.
you stir, face tightening in discomfort. suguru sees the bags under your eyes and his frown deepens. Eventually, you wake with furrowed brows, adjusting your blurry eyes to the sight of suguru gazing down at you worriedly.
"sugu...?" you mumble weakly, only to be interrupted by a few coughs that rack your chest. suguru's heart aches.
"i knew it," he sighs, eyes hardening as his hand strokes over your warm forehead. "why don't you listen?"
"what are you doing here?" you grumble, picking your head up slowly. you're greeted with a retched reminder of your headache, and you wince, pressing your hand to your head.
"we had an agreement, remember?" he reminds you, and you slowly recall. you move to grab your phone and the time reads 7:15. "i wasn't joking."
"suguru..."
"stop," he immediately cuts you off. "look at you, (y/n). you've made yourself sick."
"it's just a- a cough," you murmur, rubbing your irritated eyes harshly.
"that's bullshit, baby," he tells you rather firmly. "i don't know why you're trying to hide this from me when i knew something like this would happen. we're going home."
"no, wait, Suguru, i didn't finish my paperwork yet."
"do you think I give two shits about your paperwork?"
his tone comes off rather harshly, and both of you notice. he blinks his eyes tensely and readjusts himself, attempting to reel in his anger. his anger for you, over your lack of care for your wellbeing, at your fucking boss for letting you work yourself like this.
"you've been killing yourself for weeks, (y/n). i won't let you anymore. this is the last straw."
"hold on," you urge. suguru looks down at you, befuddled. "i really can't just up and leave my work behind like this. I'm sorry, I can't."
"what's more important to you, (y/n)? being healthy or working yourself to death?" he proposes, almost pained by the latter. "if you cared about your well-being, you would have asked for an extension or at least had a conversation with your dick of a boss about doing this another time. anyone can see that you aren't feeling well, and someone who cares will tell you that enough is enough."
"don't make me do this, suguru," you whimper. suguru's face relaxes when he sees your eyes glossing over. "don't make me stop. I can't stop."
"baby," he curls his brows, holding your cheek in his hand as he kneels before you. "why are you doing this to yourself?"
"b-because, I have to..."
"no, you don't. i've been telling you this for years, you don't have to do this."
"but I need to make something of myself. i have to keep going. i can't just quit, because if I do, then what will any of this have meant? why have i been doing this?"
"you're breaking my heart, baby," suguru exhales. "this job doesn't define you. i see how hardworking, smart, and strong you are. i see the effort you put into everything you do. i see the commitment in your heart. i see it everywhere, all the time, and that is one of many reasons why i love you so much."
your lips wobble as you look into his hazel eyes as his voice and words melt you into his palm. you've been moving so fast all this time, you've been trying to prevent yourself from falling into suguru's warmth, which has always had the power to make you do anything he says.
"but I can't stand to watch you make yourself sick because you think there's more you need to do. this isn't good for you. you know it isn't."
you nod, red nose flaring as you sniff. "i know," you admit.
"so please, please take a break. i'm literally begging you. you need to come home and rest. i'll take care of everything else, just come home. lay down. come back to us. to me."
your shoulders jerk as a few tears drop from your eyes. "sugu, i can't do this anymore," you finally give in. "i don't even feel like myself. i just want to go home."
"then let's go baby, come on," he stands and takes you with him in his arms, pressing your body to his as he holds you. you sink into him, your exhaustion and your sickness finally crashing down over you. "i'm gonna fucking kill your boss," he murmurs into your hair.
you laugh weakly against him, closing your eyes. "later. just take me home, now. please."
"yes ma'am," he nods, kneeling down to pick you up into his arms. you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his chest.
"m'gonna get you sick," you mutter.
"we can be sick together," he chuckles. "the girls and I can make you some soup. they've been obsessed with cooking lately," he says, leaning over to shut off your monitor before carrying you off to the elevators.
"that picture of them you sent earlier made me so sad. I miss you guys so much."
"i'm sorry baby, i didn't mean to upset you that much. i was only trying to guilt you a little into coming home early."
you slap his shoulder pathetically. "asshole."
"i know, i'm sorry," he kisses your head. "gonna get you all better in no time."
kento nanami: (low iron!)
you have always been a little anemic, and of course that never really posed as a terrible challenge for you until you ran out of iron supplements.
it is your responsibility undoubtedly to keep track of when you run out and when you need to restock, but recently, you've found yourself neglecting the habit.
you never did like taking iron pills, or any supplements for that matter. you feel as though they take too much out of your daily life, as though they're a burden to your existence, and the harder you think about it, the less inclined you are to keep track of it.
it's been about three weeks since you last took your iron, and while you would like to say that you have improved significantly, you would be lying.
perhaps the first few days of not taking your supplements was fine, but as time droned on, the symptoms kicked back in rather quickly. you are extremely tired all the time, you feel lighter on your feet as if you are going to pass out at any given moment, and your hands and feet are ridiculously cold though it is now the summertime, and the weather outside thoroughly contrasts your body temperature.
you're in denial about the changes, of course. you want to be able to feel fine without the crutch of your pills, but the reality of the situation is that you don't, and it's crushing you for some reason.
what's crushing you more is that you know how disappointed nanami will be to find out that you haven't been being responsible in stocking up on your supplements. he would normally keep track of when you run out in addition to you, but he's reeled it in a bit over the past few months because you wanted him to trust that you can handle taking care of something that you've managed all of your life, so he did.
and yet, here you are, trying to hide the symptoms of your iron deficiency that are only proving harder to veil. nanami has already asked you a few times if you are feeling okay over the past few weeks, therefore you know that he suspects exactly what is happening, but you brush him off each time.
"i'm good, honey," you'd tell him. "just had a long day. what about you? how are you feeling?"
you feel like shit lying to him, but you're afraid of being truthful for some reason. he would scold you, and you'd have to resort to the aid of your only weakness all over again.
god, why can't you just be normal?
you've even tried to ween off of the strict iron-sufficient diet that you've been on practically all your life because you feel like you have something to prove, especially in this world of jujutsu. how can you be a sorcerer with low iron? how can something so smell render you so weak? it's pathetic.
you don't want to think about it, in truth. you want it all to just go away. you want to be fine, to feel fine without eating certain things constantly or taking those damn pills, and you try to force yourself to, but it only grows worse the longer you hide it.
you stumble into your home after a long day of teaching and press your back to the door with a sigh. you know nanami won't be home for another forty or so minutes, so you kick your shoes off, go grab a water, and plop down on the couch.
you feel so tired. you pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes, leaning back. this is stupid, you think. you're being stupid. just reorder the damn pills.
but something stubborn within you refuses. something within you that must prove you can push past this.
you decide to watch some tv to distract you as you wait for nanami to return home. he suggested cooking for you tonight, so you rest until you hear him walking through the door.
"hi honey," he greets. you turn to smile gently at him as he rounds the corner. your cheeks pinch with happiness, your current turmoil momentarily forgotten when you see your husband approach. you go to stand and walk into his open arms, just like you normally do when he comes home.
you put the remote to the side and shoot up. your mind is occupied only by nanami as you move toward him, but you see his face drop and your vision turns upside down, and suddenly, you're falling.
kento is quick to react, ducking down impressively to catch you in his arms before you can hit the ground. you collapse into him, head dizzy and breath suddenly gone.
"sweetheart?! (y/n) are you alright? are you awake?"
you groan, shifting in his strong arms as they cradle you securely. when your vision regains focus, you're staring up at nanami's worried face, your body resting over his lap. you blink rapidly before realizing what just happened.
"oh shit," you whisper.
"(y/n)," nanami says your name again, caressing your cheek sweetly. "are you here with me now?"
"y-yeah," you nod, moving to sit up and press your hand to his chest. "i'm alright."
"absolutely not," he stops you immediately, pressing against you to lay you back down on his lip. you frown, looking up at him. "don't even try sitting up like that right now."
"kento," you start, growing worried by the tense look on his face. "i'm okay, really. i just sat up too fast."
"i know," he affirms, his thumb still smoothing over your skin. "and care to tell me why that alone is making you pass out?"
you can't find the words to respond as you stare at him, likely as guiltily as you feel. he hums knowingly.
"right," he sighs. "(y/n), how long has it been since you've taken your iron?"
and there it is. the very question you had been dreading.
"...i'm not sure what you're-"
"don't. really, don't," he interjects firmly and you shiver, rather unfamiliar with this side of your doting partner. "i'm still trying to adjust to the fact that you haven't been truthful with me. the least you can do is tell me how long it's been."
your heart drops. "kento..."
"i'm not in the mood for stalling, sweetheart. go on. out with it."
the sternness of his voice hardly matches the way he is holding you and stroking your cheek, but nevertheless, you feel awful. you avert your gaze and shrink into yourself. "three weeks."
"three?" he repeats incredulously, and you nod in shame. "i knew it had been over a week, but three, (y/n)?"
"i know," you mutter.
"why? after you told me not to check after you, to trust that you'd take care of yourself," nanami questions. "this is why i tried to help you. i know it can be a hassle sometimes, and forgetting is one thing, but to deliberately stop taking them when you know how much i worry about it... when you know how important it is for you?"
you bite hard on your lip and look away, brows curling. nanami notices immediately and softens himself, leaning down closer to you.
"my love," he starts. "i don't mean to upset you, but this is very upsetting to me."
"i know. i know, i'm sorry..." you whimper.
"but not because it's about me, (y/n), because it's about you. and you've been hiding this from me, of all things. i don't understand."
"i just didn't wanna take them anymore, ken," you say quietly.
the blonde furrows his brows. "you didn't want to take them? have you not been taking them for years?"
"i have but that's the problem. i'm a sorcerer now, and..." you exhale. "the point of being a sorcerer is to not have anything weighing you down, and this weighs me down."
"if anything, (y/n), not taking the supplements weighs you down more."
"no, i just mean- all of it, the whole iron deficiency, i hate it," you confess. "i'm tired of relying on something to be strong. i'm tired of being tied down to this. i wanted to see if i could overcome it, but i can't. i'll always have this problem, and it sucks, ken," you ramble. "if i could go without taking these pills and still do my job like i always have, then just maybe.... maybe i could be better. and i could prove that i... i don't need those stupid pills, or the extra greens, or the- whatever. just all of it."
nanami looks down at you rather sadly. "i had no idea you felt this way."
"i haven't always felt this way. it's just lately, i don't know, i feel pressured to go beyond."
"darling, your iron-deficiency doesn't make you any less talented than other sorcerers."
"i know. i mean, i should know, but i can't help but feel that way."
nanami presses his lips together, smoothing a knuckle over your cheekbone. "i'm sorry you feel like this."
"it's not your fault, ken. and i shouldn't have kept this from you, i know. i'm sorry. i just felt humiliated by it."
"there's nothing for you to be humiliated by," he reassures you. "your deficiency is no different from any of us having to feed ourselves or drink water in between missions to keep ourselves alive. it's a necessity, and though we are sorcerers, we live off of necessities to keep ourselves physically and mentally able to work. you have a responsibility to yourself. just like the rest of us. just because your iron's a little lower doesn't mean anything about who you are as a sorcerer."
"...i never thought of it like that. i've just been thinking of it as a burden."
"it's only a burden if you view it that way. you are a grade one sorcerer who i have watched climb the ranks effortlessly since we were in high school, all the while with an iron deficiency that you have always taken supplements for. that never stopped you," he says. "the problem comes in when you don't keep up with yourself and take care of those needs. just like how i'd be unable to work if i decided to skip my last few meals and drink less water."
"that makes sense," you mumble, capturing his soft brown eyes with yours.
"good," he nods. "(y/n) you can't neglect your needs like this."
"i know."
"i'm being serious. i'll start checking behind you again if i find out that you're not doing what you need to do to take care of your body."
"i know, ken, i'm sorry, i-" you stop yourself and shake your head. "i just let my insecurities get the best of me."
"then, let me handle taking care of your insecurities. you handle taking your supplements. do we have an agreement?"
you nod slowly. "yeah. we do. i'm sorry for lying again, ken."
"please don't do it again," he sighs, ducking to kiss your forehead. "but i know you wouldn't lie to me about anything else, and that you hiding this was solely out of fear."
you slowly move to sit up, and this time, kento helps you very gradually. he guides you back to sit on the couch and cups your face gently, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "i'll go order some more iron and then get started on dinner. alright?"
you hum with a soft smile. "alright. i love you, ken."
he returns your loving smile. "i love you more, sweetheart."
choso kamo: (broken finger!)
it had fully been an accident.
you should have been paying more attention to what you were doing and at the same time, so should have panda.
it really was an honest mistake. you were standing in the doorway as everyone left the classroom, your fingers clutched around the frame as everyone filed out. you were asking around if anyone had seen your boyfriend, and yuta mentioned that he saw him with yuji earlier that day.
you thanked him, and just as you were about to pull your hand away, panda, who was the last out of the room, slammed the door shut behind him thinking you had already moved out of the way.
but you hadn't.
the door flew into your index and middle fingers and you screamed bloody murder. the cursed corpse as well as his classmates whipped their heads around, and to panda's horror, you were knocking your forehead against the wall with tears in your eyes as your fingers trembled in the doorframe.
"(Y/N), HOLY SHIT I'M SO SORRY!"
you hadn't expected panda to actually break one of your fingers, but you give the freak credit for his unnatural strength. you later find out that yuji and choso had gone out to grab food for you when you see a text from your boyfriend pop up asking what flavor ramen you want the second you learn that shoko will not be available until late tonight.
for the time being, you're given a finger splint and pain medicine as though you aren't freaking surrounded by jujutsu sorcery.
and god, did it hurt! like, really, really hurt. your fingers are throbbing, and the one that isn't broken is bruised and stained with some blood. you wish you could be angrier at panda, but his groveling before your feet on his knees eases your frustration a bit. after all, it hadn't been on purpose.
you're sent home and you are given no choice but to wait until choso returns, and you're... nervous. choso never handles the ailment of his loved ones very well. his spiritual and physical connection to his brothers wellbeings' often causes him to lose his mind every time yuji gets accidentally punched in the face during training, and when it comes to you? well, choso is just the same if not somehow worse.
you remember one time you got a papercut and winced when your finger made contact with soap. choso was quick to your side, grasping your wrist and looking over your hand as though it had been severed off.
one thing you have come to know in your relationship with the brunette is that he would (and has) killed someone for the sake of the people closest to him. he does not mess around when it comes to his family, and he certainly doesn't mess around when it comes to you.
and while you think he can be a bit excessive with making sure you're alright when it's hardly necessary, it's first and foremost endearing, and it only makes you realize that he will go ballistic the second he finds out that someone broke your finger.
he doesn't naively think that you can never go unharmed, though he would be incredibly content with the notion if it were plausible. he's familiar with scars, wounds, fights, and battles, and he knows you're in the very center of it just as much as he and his brother are. but still, he hates it when you're hurt. he wants to protect you as best as he can, or to at least prevent you from suffering any more than a sorcerer already has to suffer. he only wants you to be safe.
so to prevent him from having a heart attack, you decide it's better if he doesn't know about the incident. when you answer his texts before heading home, you mention nothing about your poor finger in hopes of him not finding out at least until after you're healed.
that plan of yours, however, fails when choso comes barging through the door three hours earlier than you expected him to return. your eyes go wide from where you sit on the couch, and you have no time to even go to hide your fingers behind your back when choso marches up to you, agitated.
"uh-" you're cut off when he grabs your arm gently and lifts it into the air, your taped crooked finger showcasing itself to him. you press your lips together at how poorly the plan to conceal this from him has failed. "cho-"
"were you gonna tell me about this?" his violet eyes fly to yours in a fury, and you're almost stunned by how aggravated he looks. his voice is calm, low, but his face is wrecked with concern and almost betrayal.
"...i was, but i wanted to wait because i didn't want you to freak out..." you say slowly, watching him softly. "like you are now..?"
"that's not fair, (y/n)," he frowns and you furrow your brows. "that's not fair at all."
"woah, hold on... are you mad at me?"
"i don't know," he answers you honestly, looking between your face and your trembling hand. "i'm... upset."
"who told you about my fingers, love?"
"yuji got a text from yuta," he tells you, moving to sit down on the space beside you with your hand still cradled in his. "he said that panda was begging me not to kill him, and this was after i had talked to you."
"oh..." you sigh. "okay, yeah, i can see how that looks."
"why didn't you tell me you got hurt? and pretty badly too? where's ieiri?"
"she won't be back on campus for another hour," you explain. "i didn't want you to worry, cho, i figured i'd just tell you after it was better, but..."
"why would you try to hide something from me?" he asks you, suddenly sounding hurt. it's clear on his face that he doesn't understand why you would conceal something as important as your health from him, whether it was small or not. you tell each other everything, and that shouldn't have stopped now of all times because you don't want him to worry.
"i didn't know you'd get so upset, cho, honestly," you tell him. "i-" you stop when a sharp pain shoots through your fingers and you gasp. choso's face drops and he gently sets your hand down to his lap, panicked.
"i'm sorry," he apologizes. "shit, you must be in a lot of pain."
"it's nothing i haven't experienced before," you try to reassure him, giving him a tight smile.
"why does that matter?" choso drags his brows together. "pain is pain. i don't like when you feel any of it."
you melt. "i know. i know you don't, i don't like when you feel any of it either."
"so don't... keep stuff like this from me, (y/n)," he says sternly. "please, i need to know. i don't have the same connection to you that i have with my blood brothers, but i'm still connected to you all the same. when you hurt, i hurt."
"i get it cho, i'm sorry," you nod bashfully. "i wasn't trying to make you mad. i just don't like it when you're stressed out."
"i'm always stressed out," he says flatly, and you raise your brows with a halfhearted smile.
"yeah, i know. so why stress you even more?"
"i'd rather be stressed about you if i'm stressing about anything," he says, looking over your face as the hardness in his gaze washes away. "you know you're everything to me."
"i know, baby," you push out your bottom lip, pressing your free hand to the side of his cheek and leaning in to kiss him. his ears burn when you pull away, and he sighs heavily.
"don't offend me by trying to hide stuff like this. it won't work."
"i'm sorryyyy," you giggle and choso grumbles incoherently under his breath.
his gaze goes back to your fingers and his brows curl. "how the hell do you slam a door on someone's hand?" he hisses.
"it was an accident, cho, he didn't mean it."
"i know, and i shouldn't really be angry at him but i can't help but be irritated because you're hurt..." his fingers graze the tape. "how bad does it hurt?"
"cho, it'll be okay."
"that wasn't my question."
you roll your eyes at his attitude with a soft smile. "it hurts as much as a broken finger would."
"right. sorry," he murmurs.
"you're okay, love, you don't need to apologize."
"i still wish i- nevermind," he refrains himself from discussing how he wanted to be there to protect you from such an unpredictable occurence. "is there anything i can do to help you feel better while we wait? do you need anything?"
"ummm," you try to think. "actually, could you grab a new pack of ice from the freezer? and... the snacks you got me earlier."
the brunette's face brightens slightly with the thought that he can do something to help ease your pain as you wait for shoko to return to the school.
he nods in determination, carefully sliding your hand into your lap and kissing your cheek before hopping up to run to the kitchen. he returns with the items you requested, placing the snacks down beside him and lifting the bag of ice over your hand.
"like this?" he eases the bag down and you wince, nodding.
"mhm. yeah," you strain out. choso watches your face sadly, hating the fact that you're hurting.
"i'm sorry for getting upset," he mumbles. you turn to look at him curiously. "i just love you a lot."
"i love you more, cho," you smile gently, leaning your head against his shoulder. he sighs, resting his chin atop your head as he ices your hand. "and don't worry, i get it. i won't try to hide injuries from you anymore."
"i really hope so."
"now can you pass me those chips please?"
toji fushiguro: (knife cut!)
toji is going to absolutely kill you, and you are dreading the moment he does.
he has always told you not to touch his weapons. even if you see any of them lying around his place because he never bothers to clean up in between jobs. his one rule when you're over is to leave them alone and to let him handle them when he gets back. he doesn't care how much you protest, he doesn't care that you want to help him pick up after himself.
no touching. that is all he asks of you.
and of course... one afternoon when he's out sorting out some finances with shiu and one of his knives is glaring at you from where it lay on the kitchen table, you can't help yourself.
you don't really think anything is going to happen. after all, you're not a baby, nor are you an idiot. you know how to handle a freaking knife and you know where to put it, and yet, somehow, you allow your arrogance with the task to distract you. you're not handling it as carefully as you should be, and the second you hear the keys jingling outside the front door, you panic.
the blade, naturally, fumbles in your grasp, and swipes through the air, over your palm, and to the carpet. you jump, stepping away as quickly as it falls. you feel a sting in your hand and look down to see the fresh gash stretching over your skin. you gape as blood slowly simmers from the wound, befuddled as to how something like this even happened so quickly.
you have no time to clean it when you hear the key inside the lock. you hurriedly pick up the knife with your unwounded hand, place it back on the table where you first saw it, rip a napkin from said table to press to your bleeding palm, and clench it into a fist just as the door opens.
toji immediately greets you with a raised brow, jade eyes eying you oddly as he steps in. "the hell are you gettin' into?" he asks, confused by the way you are standing against the wall when he enters.
you're quick to move into his space to distract him from the vision of his knife and from looking any further downward from your face. you lean up on your tiptoes, normal hand on his forearm as you kiss his scarred lips. "what do you mean?"
"why were you just standing there like that?"
"can't I wait by the door for you to come back?" you bat your eyelashes, and toji grunts, gazing down at you with lidded eyes as his hand comes around the small of your back. "i'm just happy to see you."
"you take a pill or somethin', doll?"
you glare at him. "now why would you ask me that?"
"you're just acting a little too nice, that's all."
you scoff. "i don't know what you're talking about, i'm literally always happy to see you."
"yeah, but i was gone for thirty minutes and you never make a show of it like this."
"why are you making it sound like i don't show you love? you're the one who's mean all the time," you retort sassily.
a smirk captures toji's lips as he ducks down to kiss you again. "that's more like it," he murmurs against you. "still ain't answer my question though."
"i literally did. i told you i was waiting for you."
"sure," he says, unconvinced. his eyes drag down your body and momentarily go to your fist when you swiftly wrap both arms around his neck, pulling him down to crash your lips into him once more.
his brows narrow and as you kiss him, and you can feel the blood on your hand seeping through your napkin. you curse internally, lowering your hand back down behind him as he pulls away.
"not that i'm against this," toji starts, voice dangerously low against your mouth. "but it feels like you're tryin' to distract me from something."
"why would i be doing that?" you ask gently, looking up into his piercing eyes. he hums, dragging himself away from you. he grabs your chin softly and tilts your head left and right, looking over your face. "what are you doing?" you ask.
"lookin' for whatever you're hiding."
"i'm not hiding anything, toji."
"uh huh."
shit. it's never a good sign when toji doesn't even try to pretend to believe anything you're saying, and the way he's looking over your face let's you know that he at least suspects you've done something to yourself that he should know about.
you keep your fist to his back as he looks over the rest of your body with a rather relaxed expression, which only means that he doesn't suspect you touching any of his weapons. yet.
you have to keep his attention away from the knife on the table so that he doesn't figure it out.
"can you stop messing around already? i wanna go take a shower," you try to say, but toji doesn't listen.
"turn around f'me."
"huh?"
"huh?" he mimics you, looking at you unimpressed. "turn."
you suck your teeth. "i hate when you get like this."
"and i hate when you lie, now turn."
you grimance. you can't turn around with him looking down at your hand, and you're sure by now that the napkin you hold is coated red. your eye twitches in that moment when you feel a line of blood drip down your wrist.
god dammit. you're so dead.
nonetheless, you try to keep your palm facing inward as you slip it from his back and turn over your left shoulder, which connects to the uninjured hand. the second your back is to him, you bring your bloody hand in front of you.
"yeah, no," you hear toji gruffly say. your heart hammers in your throat and you know what's coming next. he moves around you to wrap his hand around your wrist and tug at it.
you cringe, allowing yourself to accept your fate when he pulls forward your balled up hand.
"open."
"can't we just-"
"open."
you sigh heavily, slowly peeling open your palm to reveal the red-stained napkin balled in it, the line of blood rushing down your inner arm, and the slice that stretches across your hand.
toji's eyes blow wide, and before he asks you anything, he throws his head over his shoulder to locate the knife that sits on the table. "are you fucking kidding me, (y/n)?" he growls, turning back to face you angrily.
"okay, let's not act like this is so crazy!" you immediately defend, throwing your other arm up. "you leave your shit lying around all the time!"
"and every single time, i tell you that i'll take care of it. what the fuck, do i have to go child-proofing the house now because of you?"
"if you would just be more mindful of how you leave your space, you wouldn't even have to worry about shit like this! you shouldn't even have knives lying around in the first place."
"i'm a grown man, (y/n), i know how to avoid cutting myself with the weapons i use daily."
"you're being a prick."
"oh baby, you must not know me because i'm about to be worse," he grunts, eyes heated with fury, and you frown.
"toji, come onnn, it was an accident."
"what do i always say about my weapons, (y/n)?"
"i just wanted to help you put it away, is that so crazy?"
"what. do i say. about my weapons."
you deflate slightly, uneased by the rate at which toji is growing angry with you. "...not to touch them."
"so why the fuck did you touch them?" he growls, picking up the napkin in your palm and tossing it over his shoulder. he looks over your wound and clenches his jaw. "fucking hell, (y/n)."
"look, i'm sorry."
"shut the hell up and come on."
despite his rage, he leads you to the bathoom with surprising care.
when you arrive, he flicks on the light with his free hand and swipes up a cloth from under the sink. he turns to you, pressing it down to your wound to stop the bleeding. once it seems like it's done, he puts the cloth down and turns on the faucet. "put your hand under," he orders, guiding it to the cool water nonetheless.
the water hits your open wound bitterly and you jump, watching the blood run through the drain as toji washes your arm as well.
"sit," he nods over to the bathtub, shutting off the faucet.
you oblige mutely, shuffling over and holding out your hand. you sit slowly on the ledge of the tub and watch as toji shuffles through his cupboards for a bottle of peroxide, some bandages, and ointment. you dread what is coming, for you know your hand is gonna sting like a bitch.
toji thuds over to sit hunched on the closed toilet lid, leaning over to grab your hand again. you stretch your fingers out and he sighs, shaking his head. "so fucking hard-headed," he murmurs.
you watch him screw open the bottle of liquid.
"go slowly," you plead.
"it's gonna hurt all the same, doll," he tells you, and you pout. "you should listen next time, then maybe you wouldn't have to go through this."
"shut the fuck up."
toji clicks his tongue, glancing at you momentarily before leaning down and holding the bottle over you, grasping your wrist loosely with your hand above his knee. "keep still."
the peroxide comes flooding out of the bottle and onto your hand, bubbling instantly over your gash. you whimper, tensing your body and scrunching your eyes at the sting.
"i know," toji mumbles, smoothing his thumb gently over your wrist. "you're alright."
your fingers dig into your thigh as it continues to burn. toji leans over to put down the bottle and continues to caress your arm, lowering your hand to his lap. he blows over your palm slightly as the peroxide dries, and you eventually open your eyes.
"not so bad," he tells you. he leans himself back to reach for a new cloth then pats it around the gash, drying your hand and your arm. he reaches back again for the tube of almost empty ointment he found and twists it open, squeezing it over your wound. "shit, hold on," he stops. he lets you lift your hand as he rushes to wash his own before coming to sit back down at hold yours on his leg again, now with bandages in hand.
you watch him gently as he works the bandage over you with such attentiveness, a dip in his brow proving his focus. you suddenly feel guilty for making him worry.
"i'm sorry," you finally say again, this time with more meaning.
toji's green eyes snap up at you amidst his wrapping. "yeah?"
"i really was just trying to help you. didn't mean to stress you out."
toji sighs, pausing his movements to look you in the eye. "you need to be more careful. i tell you not to touch my stuff because it's not your responsibility. obviously i know you can yourself, but some of my shit's really dangerous and i don't want you gettin' hurt," he gestures to your hand. "it could've been a lot worse, but still."
"if you don't want me touching your weapons, toji, you should probably clean them up more," you quirk a brow and he exhales loudly.
"i'm seeing that now, yeah," he says. "i'll be more careful if you are. don't need my doll getting a bunch of scars 'cause of me, now."
you smile softly. "yeah. i won't touch your stuff anymore, i promise."
"...how about instead i just... teach you how to handle 'em the right way?"
you perk up. "really?"
"i don't see why not. i'd rather you know how to use some of it than see you scrape yourself up because you don't know how to hold a knife."
"don't be a smartass."
toji smirks, continuing with his wrapping of your hand. "i mean it. i'll sit down with you sometime to show you."
"...how about after we're done here?"
"don't fucking push it."
ryomen sukuna: (fever!)
you wake up in a cold sweat, shivering.
you groan in displeasure, rolling over, slightly discombobulated. it can't be any later than 7 am, but you are boiling hot. you press your hand to your forehead and curse. you're sweating profusely and you feel incredibly lightheaded.
you don't even have the energy to get up, but you know that you need to take your temperature. you shudder, carefully shuffling out of bed and wincing as every brush against your skin feels like the stab of a thousand pins and needles.
you lethargically make your way to your bathroom, the cool air hitting your neck and sending you into a fit of shivers. you cling to yourself, teeth chattering, and reach into your cabinet for a thermometer. with half-open eyes, you pop it under your tongue and make your way back to your bed, bundling up in your blankets and curling into a ball.
it feels like hours before the beep resounds, and you slowly lift it from your mouth to read the little digital numbers.
102.4. perfect.
you shudder in pain, tossing the thermometer to the side and nestling your face in your pillows. you feel like absolute shit, but you can't bring yourself to do much else. you need medicine, water, a cool compress, but none of those things you have access to currently.
you close your eyes as your mind swarms, body throbbing and shuddering with chills though the last thing you need is to be cuddled under the covers. you think maybe it will go away if you get some rest. maybe you just need to relax, to take some time in bed. you'll let sukuna know when-
shit! sukuna.
there's no way in hell or on earth that sukuna will allow you to go untreated if you tell him, but god, you don't feel like letting him know. despite his likely haste to make sure you have everything you need, you can only imagine the snarky comments about your fragility, your strange body, your vulnerability that he''ll spout.
you don't want to hear it. you don't want to hear any of it, because you're sure that if you do, you'll start crying. you're already worn down, clearly, and the last thing you need on top of a fever is your boyfriend joking about your weak state.
you elect to stay in bed and tell sukuna you'll see him another time if he pesters you today.
which of course, he does.
a whirlwind of alarming dreams that you almost thought were hallucinations are disrupted by the persistent buzzing of your phone on your dress. you groan, reaching out a shaky hand to blindly grab the device and answer the call, pressing it to your ear with no knowledge of who you're speaking to.
"yes?" you croak.
"can't answer a telephone call the first time it rings?" sukuna's voice thunders through the mic, and you lift your brows.
"kuna?" you try to say his name normally, despite the constant chatter of your teeth.
"who the hell else would it be?"
"sorry... i was asleep."
"at this hour?"
"...what'dy'mean?"
"jesus, woman, it's 2 in the afternoon. why the hell are you still in bed?"
you reel momentarily at his words. 2 pm? it was just 7 in the morning! have you really been sleeping all this time?
"oh..." is all you can manage to say before a chill wracks your body again. you cringe, curling into yourself and holding the phone away from you.
"oh?" the king of curses repeats. "what is the matter with you?"
"n-nothing," you respond quickly. "i guess i was up late last night. i was c-completely knocked out..." you tremble.
"last night you told me you were going to sleep early because you were tired, you brat."
fuckkkk.
how could you have forgotten about that? you hadn't been feeling well last night, which is likely the reason why you feel so much worse today, so you turned in early. "i- couldn't fall asleep until later, though," you mumble.
"you are attempting to deceive me," sukuna grunts. "care to explain why?"
"m'not, kuna," you sigh halfheartedly.
"what exactly do you take me for?"
you're really not in the mood for this. you're aching at this point, and you can tell your body temperature has only risen. you're so weak. you can barely even process the fact that you're on the phone, and you can't handle sukuna's attitude. not if he's not going to help, which you automatically assume that he won't.
"i'm going back to bed," you say softly.
"what do you mean back to bed?!" sukuna fumes. "seriously, what the hell is the matter with you. you sound ill."
"i'm not i-ill."
"then why do you keep stumbling over your words, woman?" he questions, his voice mellowing out into a steady intensity. "what is it now? your monthly plague? whatever you people call allergies?"
this is exactly why you don't want him to know. he handles these things too crudely, as if it's a burden upon his existence. "y-you ask too many damn questions."
"i wouldn't have to if you answered them. now talk."
"i'm fine, sukuna. i'm just gonna go back to sleep."
"you hang up this phone, i'm at your door in two seconds."
"that's impossible."
"try me."
you know he's serious, but you don't have the energy. you can't stay on the phone with him any longer, trying to speak like nothing's wrong. it's cold. so cold, but you're so hot. you're probably drenched in a pool of your own sweat, but you can't feel it. you want to sleep. you just want him to let you sleep.
your vision grows dizzy as you stare ahead, brows arching in discomfort. you think you press the end call button, but you can still hear his voice picking up in urgency... is he shouting? are you even on the phone anymore? you aren't sure.
your vision suddenly drifts into inky blackness as the phone rests beside you on your pillow. the last thing you are aware of before you slip into unconsciousness again is banging at your front door.
sukuna bursts into your apartment mere minutes after you stopped answering him on the phone. he looks about ready to kill, crimson eyes wide and pupils shrunken as he breathes heavily, looking all over your apartment.
he's stomping to your room and throwing the door open when he sees you laying in the bed. "(y/n)!" he barks, searching for some response from you, but all he recieves or nonsensical murmurs.
he moves quickly to the side of your bed and grabs at your shoulder, turning you over to find your sheets drenched and your face tight with discomfort. he falters, heart jerking at the sight. "...the fuck?"
he presses a hand to your sweat-drenched face and furrows his brows in concern. you're hot. too hot for the temperature of a human being, and you're sweating like crazy, mumbling things under your breath in your sleep he can't even hear.
"the fuck did you do?" he grumbles, starting to internally panic. he scrambles to remember what this could be. he knows of plague, of pestilence, so maybe you're suffering some form of that?
hell, he can't tell. not from a glance. he's not even sure if he knows how to help you. you're entirely too hot for him to brush this off like it's nothing, and you passed out in the middle of speaking to him.
he looks over and sees the thermometer on your sheets and leans over to pick it up. the screen reads a high number, which he assumes is the temperature of your body. curious himself, he prods open your jaw and tucks it into your mouth, pressing the button the way you had shown him when you had the flu to reset the time.
"come the fuck on," he growls as seconds tick by before it beeps, and he pulls it from your lips to read 104.7.
he doesn't know how far it is from your usual temp, but he knows it's high. too high.
he's quick to dial uraume for some more information, and the second he hears that you need immediate medical help, he's picking you up and making a run for it without even thinking that uraume can likely help you.
when you wake, you're blinded by nauseating lights blaring down overhead. "ugh," you groan, feeling light and disoriented. you turn your head to the side and blink, to find sukuna's face staring directly at you rather harshly.
you jump slightly, startled. "what-?" you start, scrunching your eyes to adjust to the sight before you. "sukuna? what are you..." you trail off when you realize that you aren't in your house, nor are you at sukuna's estate. instead, you're in a hospital bed hooked up to a series of fluids.
your eyes go wide as you sit up suddenly, only to be hit with a sudden dizzy spell that sends you leaning back into the bed.
"don't move," he orders, and you turn to him in confusion. never would you have expected to see the day that sukuna sits in a chair beside you in a hospital.
"why are we... what happened?"
"apparently you had a high fever," he answers harshly, fist-propping his chin up over his leg. "too high for you to be seen in my care, and too high for you to be lying in bed as though nothing was wrong."
your heart sinks. "how high?"
"when we got here, tipping past 105."
"...are you serious?"
"i had to come bust down your door to make sure you were alive. i put you on an empty roller downstairs because these fucking dumbass doctors can't see me and i had to get their attention so they could notice you. yes, i am serious."
he sounds pissed. and you hardly want to think of what he means by ‘getting their attention.’
"what do you have to say for yourself? for daring to lie to me? for pretending like you weren't on the brink of a much worse fate?"
"...i..."
"you're so lucky you're unwell, girl, because you don't even want to imagine the things i would do to you as punishment for putting yourself in such a ridiculous situation," he growls. "all you had to do was tell me and i would have taken care of it before it got worse."
you blink, almost dumbfounded. you still aren't all there, but you can tell that your fever has gone down significantly. you're no longer sweating and fewer chills wrack your body. "...huh?"
"did that fucking fever scramble your brain or what?" he fumes, eyeing you sharply. "you should have told me."
you part your lips slightly as you look at him. "honestly, sukuna, i didn't think you'd really... i don't know-"
"care?"
"no, not care. i just didn't think you'd handle it well. i didn't even handle it well myself."
"you believe me to be incapable of tending to sickness?"
"no, i just thought you'd like... not take it seriously."
sukuna's eyes darken, and you realize that you may have said the wrong thing. "in what reality would i fail to take any threat to your health seriously, whether you are frail or not?"
"see, that's what i mean. you always have to slip in something about me being frail."
"because you are. as a member of your species. look at where you lay currently," sukuna grimaces. "that is not an insult to you, it's an observation. it's an insult, however, to everyone else who isn't you."
you relax slightly. "then you were actually worried?"
sukuna scoffs. "why the hell do you think i'm sitting in a human hospital with your sick ass right now? i thought we were past you believing i do not concern myself over you."
you suddenly feel foolish, having forced yourself to suffer in your isolation and simultaneously made sukuna, of all people, worry over you.
"hm. feeling foolish, are you?" he says, reading your mind.
"shut up,," you whine, only to clutch your stomach suddenly with a groan. sukuna sighs as he gently eases your head back onto the pillow.
"i told you not to exert yourself. you give me a headache."
"kuna," you mumble.
"what?"
"can you... take me home?"
sukuna raises a brow. "home?"
"to your place," you clarify. "i don't wanna be here. i just want to be with you. want you to hold me."
"you're such a needy thing," he exhales, toying with a strand of your hair as he leans over and gazes gently at you. "you have medications you need to take."
"then bring them with."
"and if you get sick again? you've only been here ten hours."
"ten?!" you exclaim.
"you were very ill, (y/n)."
you groan. "ten is long enough. i hate hospitals. take me home. i feel better anyway, and if i get worse, i’ll just go to uraume."
sukuna sighs, standing slowly. "after i get these tubes out of you without further damaging you, i will take you home," he says, looking over the IVs that you're hooked up to.
you close your eyes tiredly and nod in acceptance. "okay," you murmur.
he grunts. "let me find some damn instructions.”
"kuna," your hand weakly reaches out to catch his wrist and he stops, turning to look down at you.
"what is it?"
you open your eyes to look up at him fondly, exhaustion welling in your gaze. "thank you."
the king of curses clenches his jaw. he smoothes ahead over your now warm forehead and leans over you. "don't do some shit like this again."
12K notes · View notes
martiniluvr · 7 months ago
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18+ minors dni
1,000 follower celebration!! I love u all wow. thank you for all your support, truly. be warned, this is long. enjoy đŸ’«
warnings: nsfw alphabet for dick grayson and jason todd, so there’s a variety of things under the cut. please proceed with caution đŸ©·
â˜…ăƒ»ăƒ»ăƒ»â˜…ăƒ»ăƒ»ăƒ»â˜…ăƒ»ăƒ»ăƒ»â˜…
A | Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
jason is very different after sex. it’s a major act of trust for him, so when it’s done, all he really wants is to be close to you. in other words: he’s a big cuddler. he’ll mumble some things into your skin as you run your fingers through his hair, and after, you usually end up ordering enough food to feed a small family, because that man can eat.
dick is a loverboy at heart. once the dust has settled and you’re both down from your highs, he’s doting on you—bringing you water, a snack, cleaning you up with a damp cloth—with doe eyes and a big old grin. always invites you to have a shower with him afterwards, and you always say yes, because his shoulder rubs are divine.
B | Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
unsurprisingly, jason has some
issues with his body from all the shit it’s been through. that being said, I think he intentionally trains his back and shoulders the most. it’s what makes him look as huge as he does. as for his favourite thing about you, jason todd is an ass man, argue with the wall. he likes something he can grab. hard.
dick grayson knows his ass is fat. he’s not shy about it. but his favourite body part is actually his arms, and how muscular they’ve become over the years. as for you, he loves your hips. they trigger something primal in him; the second you put on a fitted dress, he’s thinking about giving you his children.
C | Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
jason gets nasty. he’ll cum anywhere on your body just for the obscene sight, but he especially loves to cum in your mouth when he’s feeling that extra bit dominant. he doesn’t care if you spit or swallow, it turns him on either way—but, god, he’s proud when you open your mouth to show him it’s all gone.
let’s cut to the chase. dick wants to cum inside you over and over again. he hardly even contemplates doing it anywhere else; that man wants to fill you up and watch you drip. maybe it’s his out-of-control breeding kink, maybe it’s how intimate it feels—whatever the case may be, rest assured dick grayson loves a creampie.
D | Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
voyeurism. jason likes to watch. it happened accidentally once when he walked in on you practicing some self-care, and he’s thought about it ever since. he enjoys the performance aspect of it; it’s a power play, watching you get yourself off, knowing he’s right there but refusing to help you.
this ties in with Q, but dick borders on exhibitionism sometimes. fucking you in his car, in the bathroom at a charity event, or in a changing room—anywhere you might get caught, really—god, it gets him going. it’s the daredevil in him, constantly yearning to test the limits of what he can do.
E | Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
I think jason had very limited to no experience before his death, and most of what knows today he learned by being with you. ever the fast learner, though, he sure as shit knows what he’s doing now. I think he’s very in-tune with your body and his needs, and it shows in the way he fucks you.
we have to face facts here. dick definitely got around before committing to a serious relationship. despite that, I think he knows what he’s doing thanks to his impeccable observational skills; sometimes you think he knows your body better than you do (but don’t tell him that; it goes straight to his head).
F | Favorite position (this goes without saying)
jason is a sucker for good old-fashioned doggy style, of course, but fuck, does he adore the prone bone position. trapping you under his body, hitting you deep with each thrust, and he gets to watch your ass jiggle at every movement? it borders on religious ecstasy for him.
dick goes feral—feral—for the mating press position. it’s erotic, carnal, and raw, and that’s exactly what he wants when he’s fucking you. he’s also partial to cowgirl, especially when he can tell you want to take control. the view it offers him is enough to have him whining underneath you for more.
G | Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
jason is more on the serious side; sex with him, intense as it may be, is still a big act of vulnerability on his part, so he doesnïżœïżœïżœt treat it lightly. he will, however, crack a warm smile on those occasions when you make love in the small hours of the morning, when he thinks you can’t see his face clearly.
dick is a tease, and sex with him is fun. he likes to flirt with you while he bends you into compromising positions, and he gets very cocky when you cum. he can’t help but make little quips after the fact, either; “something wrong with your leg, baby?” as your limbs twitch and tremble from your orgasm. jerk.
H | Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
in keeping with his rugged exterior, jason is only doing what he needs to in order to keep things manageable and convenient. he is not dedicating hours to manscaping. much to your elation, that means he keeps his happy trail intact.
dick is a little more meticulous in his grooming, being the “pretty boy” that he is. he prefers keeping himself neatly trimmed, partly to ensure more comfort in his nightwing suit—he’s learned the hard way that the pornstar look is a one-way ticket to chafing when you’re jumping off of buildings.
I | Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
jason really restrains himself from being outwardly intimate. he finds it hard to be that vulnerable, and while he loves the passion between you when you fuck, he’s only really able to tap into the romantic aspect if he’s wholly at ease. that’s not to say it never happens! it definitely does, just give him time.
he may be cocky and unserious when he’s fucking you, but sex with dick is always very openly intimate. he sees the beauty and romance in what you do together, and it’s truly special to him that he gets to witness you like this. sex is absolutely one of the ways he expresses his love and admiration for you.
J | Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
jason only really masturbates when he’s away from you on a mission, and needs to take the edge off. it’s less interesting without you, so he wants it done quick. he imagines you touching yourself as he does it—legs wide and eyes hazy—and that gets him to his peak extremely efficiently.
dick likes to edge himself. I said what I said. he’s thinking about how he’d much rather save his load for your pretty cunt, so he’s bucking his hips and screwing his eyes shut as he forces himself to stop right before his climax, reminding himself how good it’ll feel when he gets to fill you up.
K | Kink (one or more of their kinks)
overstimulation is jason’s go-to; he gets off on dragging orgasm after orgasm out of you until you’re hardly able to speak. he also loves forced eye contact, especially when you can barely keep your eyes open. oh, and he has a massive size kink. when you’re as huge as he is, everyone is small by comparison, and he likes how big you make him feel.
say it with me. dick grayson has a breeding kink. the visual aspect of cumming inside you is enough to drive him crazy, but the thought of getting you pregnant
now that makes him rabid. face-sitting is another big one; any variation of pussy-eating drives him wild, but having you sit on his face is his favourite way to do it.
L | Location (favorite places to do the do)
if you’re at home, anywhere is fair game to jason. he’s fucking you in the kitchen, in the bedroom, on the sofa, against the wall, in the office—anywhere. outside of home, he’s more restrictive, but he has thought about fucking you in the batmobile on the many occasions he’s stolen it.
the bedroom is definitely dick’s favourite place to fuck you; aside from making things feel more romantic, he wants you to be comfortable as he’s bending you into crazy positions. he also loves a shower quickie and car sex, impractical though they may be. don’t worry, he’s an acrobat. it’ll work.
M | Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
is it crazy to say that jason gets turned on when you argue? because he does. a moderate disagreement where you’re getting huffy with him is a surefire way to get bent over the sofa. oh, and if he feels even a little jealousy creeping over him, you’re in for a ride. also, if you nestle into him during the night, you’ll be contending with his hard cock pressed against your lower back until one of you caves.
dick is whipped. whatever you’re doing can get him going. cooking, reading, wearing his clothes—he loves everything you do. but, he’s particularly turned on whenever you dress up for a special occasion. it can be a little inconvenient when you’re running late for an event and he’s groping you over your gown in the limo, but how can you refuse those blue eyes?
N | No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
jason would be very resistant to anything that puts him in a submissive role (this goes for ak!jason too). this includes both sex acts and the use of props/toys that take control away from him; he’s just not into it. he’d also refuse any kind of roleplay, saying it’s unnecessary. he’s a pragmatic guy.
I think dick would really dislike the idea of hurting you. he’s not opposed to spanking, and he’ll even engage in some light breath play (ahem, headlock, anyone?), but he would never take it any further than that. if he bruised you through anything other than hickies, he’d be sick with guilt.
O | Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
it should come as no surprise that jason loves receiving head. there are few sights as enticing as watching you take his cock in your mouth while he instructs you to keep your eyes on him. he’s also very skilled in returning the favour, and his preference is eating you from the back so he can see your pretty ass move each time you squirm.
you know my stance on this. dick is a munch. he’s eating pussy like it’s his last meal before the end of the world, and he’s doing it for him. needless to say, he’s fucking good at it. receiving head is quite literally the last thing on his mind. that being said, when he does remember to let you reciprocate, all he can think about is how pretty you look while doing it.
P | Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
jason can get pretty rough, and he likes to fuck you hard, but he knows how much you can take. sex for him is partially an emotional release. but, he’s good at alternating between destroying you one day and being gentle the next; despite his tough facade, jay enjoys soft, passionate sex as much—if not more—than you do.
dick is kind of a hedonist; once he starts feeling pleasure, he doesn’t want it to end—especially when you start feeling it too. he’s happy to give you fast and rough if it’s what you want, but his preference is sloppy, erotic fucking. the messier you get, the better. although, if he’s got you in a mating press, the roughness seeps back in quickly.
Q | Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
while he’ll never say no to a quickie, jason prefers to take his time with you. once he starts, he finds it hard to stop, and he loves to see how much you can take from him before you’re spent. quickies are sporadic with him; he prefers to enjoy your body at his pace.
if he gets the chance to fuck you—hell, even just tease you—dick is going to take it. he loves the thrill and the sense of urgency that comes with quickies. whether it’s a hookup in his car or an impromptu blowjob when he’s supposed to be on patrol, his eyes are lighting up like it’s christmas.
R | Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
jason is not a risk-taker. he needs time to warm to any kind of experimentation, but he’s more likely to try things on you than on himself, like using light restraints on you or dabbling in sensory play. as long as he feels he has some control.
dick is a different story. he’s willing to try most things at least once, and he’s able to laugh it off if something goes south. he’s not opposed to switching (ha) things up and giving you the lead, either; he likes a woman in charge.
S | Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
maybe it’s his extensive training, maybe it’s just who he is; whatever the case may be, jason can go for a long time. but, it’s usually just one round that he draws out so he can really work you to your limit.
dick can handle multiple rounds if you give him time. his recovery consists of burying his face between your legs until he’s ready to go again, which doesn’t take very long once you start convulsing against his tongue.
T | Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
jason wouldn’t even think to use sex toys unless you brought it up, but he’d be open to using them on you if you asked. he’s quick to see the potential in your little pink vibrator when he holds it against your clit while he fucks you, noticing how much easier it is to overstimulate you this way.
ever the experimentalist, dick isn’t opposed to trying out toys in the bedroom. in fact, he’s the one who would show up with fuzzy blue handcuffs (“I got them in my colour!”) to restrain your hands behind your back, so he can devour your cunt without interference from you.
U | Unfair (how much they like to tease)
he’d like to tease you more, but jason doesn’t really have the restraint for it. as soon as you’re splayed out in front of him, he wants to take you. when he does tease, though, he likes to touch you everywhere but where you need him most, until you’re begging for him to make you feel good. then, he likes to make you regret it—over and over again.
dick is the world’s biggest tease, and you can look that up. he’s got you grinding on his lap, making out with you until you’re panting, only to say he needs to do some work as he stands up with a smirk. and when he finally gets you naked, he makes you tell him what you need while his fingers hover over your aching pussy, never reaching you.
V | Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
jason isn’t very loud at all, but the sounds he does make range from grunts and groans to the occasional low moan if you tug at the hair on the nape of his neck. he’s a big dirty talker, and he likes to get up in your ear to do it, so he knows you’re listening. he notices the way you shiver at his gravelly voice, and it drives him crazy.
dick is far less concerned about being quiet. he’s moaning, swearing, telling you how pretty you are, even occasionally whining, and he’s not worried about what your neighbours think—in fact, he’s making sure you’re just as vocal as he is, insisting you tell him how you feel. he’s also expressive when he cums, especially when he does it inside you.
W | Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
I know this is controversial, but jason would never agree to a threesome. this man is possessive. the mere thought of seeing someone else touch you in front of him is enough to make him see red, so no—he’d end up committing murder (not that it’s a far leap for him on a good day).
dick has a thing for watching you work out, especially when you’re doing yoga in the living room in those skin-tight pants. watching the way your limbs elongate and contract as you bend and stretch does things to him, but he never interrupts; the images stay in his mind for those long missions.
X | X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
jason is a behemoth of a man all over. and I do mean all over. he’s packing. an easy 8 inches (slightly more), thick, with a slight upwards curve and a prominent vein from the base to the tip—which is a mauvy pink, by the way. you’re still shocked you’re able to take him, and he was too the first time.
‘prettiest man alive also has a pretty cock’ would be dick’s headline. just over 6 inches, with enough girth to make you feel full, and a rosy pink tip that matches his lips
you could honestly just stare at it if he’d let you (and he probably would). he fits you like a glove every single time.
Y | Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
jason’s sex drive is pretty consistent; it’s always simmering a little ways below the surface. he’s able to compartmentalise it when he has to, but sex doubles as a form of stress-relief for him, so it happens
often.
dick has an incredibly high sex drive. like jason, he can reel it in when needed, but if it were up to him, you’d fuck every single day, twice even. I also truly believe that he’s regularly plagued by morning wood.
Z | Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
he’s going to make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of, but the truth is jason could probably pass out in your arms about 10 minutes after you’re done. take it as a sign of how safe he feels with you as he’s snoring softly into your neck.
he’s definitely tired after sex, but dick is waiting until he notices you dozing off before he closes his eyes. once he’s out, though, good luck waking him up again without an air horn. he’s going to need his full eight hours to recharge.
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scottiexmariee · 19 days ago
Note
omg ive been highly enjoying ur fics and hcs!!! i think u wrote their characters very spot on đŸ„ș the jail one got me thinking... can i request the lads boys reacting to the reader getting in trouble after punching someone. bc someone talked shit about the boys and wanted to defend their honor or smth lmfao ty!!! 💕
omg anon lemme kiss u on the forehead 
I almost did a backflip when I read this, I was so happy to write it. This one took a bit longer to write so I do apologize, but I was reeeeally on a mission to deliver some good plot here
Some are a bit longer (coughSyluscough) but I really hope you enjoy <3
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Defending Their Honor
Pairings: Xavier x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Sylus x Reader
Word Count: 3.9k (oops)
Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Lore references. Reader throwing hands. FEELINGS. Soft Sylus. -Scottie is allergic to happiness.
Masterlist
Note: I got possessed when I wrote Sylus' and probably should have made him his own fic. I am not sorry. It is longer than the others. I am bashing my head against the keyboard. Please forgive me.
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☆ “While I’m honored, you didn’t have to do that on my behalf,”
☆ ^ Giggling and kicking his feet on the inside though
☆ He’d also return the favor with no hesitation if the situation was ever reversed
☆ ^ You will NOT diss his lady in his presence
☆ Y’all are def cuddling for the rest of the night as soon as you get home
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Xavier really needed to learn to stop taking his eyes off of you when the two of you were out in public. 
The two of you had gone on a fun little outing to Linkon’s version of a pop-up carnival. There were games, food vendors, live music, and tons of people. He knew how badly you’d wanted to go, so of course you nearly jumped right into his arms when he showed up at your apartment after lunch and told you to get ready.
So far, it had been good. The two of you had played a couple games, won some prizes, even took chances with a few questionable rides. You had walked around, hand in hand, enjoying each other’s presence and making new memories together.
It had been seconds. Seconds. You were both, unsurprisingly, hungry after walking around for a few hours. Xavier, being the knight in shining armor that he is, had walked up to one of the nearby food vendors to grab a snack for the two of you, innocently leaving you near a blue park bench. When he finished, you had disappeared. 
He stared at the now empty park bench, snacks in hand, completely baffled. He did a quick scan of the area, only to see a bunch of people he didn’t know, and someone being escorted to the exit by two security officers.
But that person almost looked like they were wearing the same outfit as you.
Xavier squinted. Surely not, right?
He caught up quickly, nearly stumbling when his suspicions were confirmed. That was absolutely you being dragged to the front of the park.
He lagged behind quietly, saying nothing, but already accepting the fact that your fun carnival date was apparently over. 
You were given a verbal warning and kicked out of the park, being told not to come back for the remainder of this year’s visit. If you came back, it would be trespassing.
You were getting ready to text Xavier when you realized he was right in front of you, nibbling on some type of skewer he’d gotten from the vendor. “Sooo
” He began, eyeing you curiously.
“I may or may not have slapped someone,”
His eyes immediately widened, his mind running through every possible scenario. 
“What happened? Did someone touch you?” He reached out and grabbed your wrist, eyes scanning every inch of exposed skin for injuries. 
“No! No, it’s
.nothing like that,” 
His eyebrows furrowed. “Then
.?”
Suddenly, you were a bit embarrassed. It had been so stupid. How was he even going to react to this?
When Xavier had left you by the bench, a man that looked to be around your age approached and asked for your number.
“I know you just saw me with someone.”
“So?”
“Not interested,”
“Why? Because of that loser? You could do better.”
That was it. That was the reason you’d backhanded the disrespect right out of that man’s bloodline. 
Xavier was
.so many things. Incredibly kind, thoughtful, and just so deliciously him. You adored him the same way he adored you, and had him on a pedestal that no one could even close to touching. You could do better? Not possible. There was not a soul in this galaxy that was better than Xavier. At least, not to you.
Hearing someone speak lowly of him when you truthfully couldn’t even articulate how incredible he was? Yeah, instant slap. 
You kept your explanation short. “Some guy called you a loser,” You said, rubbing your arm sheepishly. 
Xavier almost giggled. 
“So
.you slapped him?” 
You pressed your lips into a thin line, the reality of how out-of-pocket the whole thing was finally setting in.
Surprisingly, Xavier laughed. It was soft, filled with fondness and mirth. He pulled you into a loving embrace, placing a soft kiss on the top of your forehead. He'd be lying to the both of you if he said he wouldn't do something similar.
“I’m honored,” He began, his voice muffled by your hair, “but you don’t have to slap people on my behalf,”
“I’ll always defend you, whether you’re in the room or not,” You responded, your tone firm and completely serious. 
Xavier stood there for a moment, arms wrapped around you still, feeling like the luckiest guy alive. The thought of you backhanding someone for calling him something as simple as a loser was almost hysterical, yet it filled him with a warmth he couldn’t explain. You were really something else. 
After a moment, he pulled back, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Let’s go. There’s plenty of time left for us to turn this night around,”
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❅ okay listen I love Zayne
❅ but he's kinda emotionally constipated sometimes (at least on the OUTSIDE)
❅ the logical side of him wants to scold you and tell you that this wasn't necessary
❅ but the emotional side, the side that is harder for him to articulate, is lowkey flattered that you'd go that far to defend his name
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Zayne slowly paced back and forth in the lobby of the city’s police station, the only sounds in the room being the tap of his shoes on the linoleum floor and the ticking of a clock on the wall. He glanced toward the clock. It had been 20 minutes since he’d come to retrieve you, and he was growing impatient. 
The two of you were in another city for an awards banquet. You’d come along simply to support Zayne, your absolute favorite person in existence (who just so happened to be an incredible Doctor that was receiving multiple awards for his work).
Imagine Zayne’s surprise when the banquet ended and he couldn’t find you anywhere. It was extremely out of character for you to disappear when it came to things like this, especially while you were in an unfamiliar place. This wasn’t Linkon. You wouldn’t have simply left without so much as a ‘congratulations’, not to mention that Zayne had been your ride here. 
By the third time your phone had gone to voicemail, Zayne was nervous. That was when he started asking around. He’d pulled up a photo of you, showing it to various employees and asking if anyone had happened to see you leave. 
It was a security guard that told him you’d been arrested.
He left immediately, having the directions already pulled up before he made it out to the car. 
Now, he paced, an amalgamation of concern, confusion, and stress. 
A buzzing sound emanated from somewhere down the hall, and Zayne’s head whipped toward the sound to see you being led out by an officer, still wearing the outfit that matched his tie color. 
The red knuckles weren’t easy to miss. 
While he did still open the car door for you, he chose a tactical silence for the duration of the car ride. There wouldn’t be a single word spoken until you were back in the hotel room. This was a calculated method by Zayne. He knew you’d be absolutely squirming by the time you guys made it back, and that was exactly what he wanted. 
The door to your shared room clicked shut behind Zayne, who’d entered behind you. He leaned against it, folding his arms over his chest. He raised an expectant eyebrow at you, his eye flitting between your flustered face and reddened knuckles on your dominant hand. 
It was hard to take him seriously when he looked that handsome in a tux.
“I
may have overreacted,” You finally said, your voice coming out timid. 
“Can you go anywhere without picking a fight?” He responded, his tone exasperated. 
You swallowed. 
“I can
”
Zayne took a steadying breath. He moved from the door and took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Tell me what happened,”
You had been out looking at all of the posters on the wall, reading the lists of different accomplishments and awards printed under each attendee, waiting for the banquet to end. Zayne had already received his awards, but was still backstage and not allowed to leave. Some of the audience, including you, had stepped out of the auditorium throughout the banquet. You had originally just wanted some air. The auditorium had been stuffy, and the fancy outfit you had on was not helping. 
While you were out admiring the different posters, you heard a woman making some pretty rude comments about the poster she and her friends were in front of. At first, you just scoffed. You couldn’t imagine being so bitter. Was it so hard to be supportive of others, even if they weren’t the one you came for?
And then, you realized which poster she was standing in front of. 
Zayne.
Imagine this: You happen to be involved with an incredibly smart, talented, and stunning man that just so happens to be a Chief Cardiac Surgeon at only 27 years old. The same man that has made evolutionary discoveries and progress in treating cardiac abnormalities. The same man that you absolutely adored, and wanted nothing but the absolute best for. All of this is great, right? Now imagine hearing someone say something completely horrible about him right in front of you.
At first, the confrontation had started off as just a scolding. You’d told the woman that it wasn’t right to say horrible things about the attendees. They all did such incredible things that they were receiving awards for, after all. This was not the place for such behavior. 
And then, she just
.kept going. 
Before long, you’d quickly ended the conversation with an abrupt bitch-slap. Security had already been approaching when your hand connected with her face. You weren’t going to tell Zayne this, but you’d actually gotten tackled. 
You gave Zayne the shortened version of the story, leaving out all of the gushing. 
Initially, he was quiet again as he tried to process what you’d just told him. 
Lady. Talking bad. Zayne. Slap.
For a moment, he couldn’t understand why you’d even resort to that. But when he looked at you, looking at him with eyes full of love and respect, he softened a little. While he didn’t necessarily agree with your methods, who was he to dictate how a person should react to any scenario?
He patted the spot next to him, still trying to form an appropriate response. You sat willingly, leaning into his side. He looped an arm around your waist. 
You sat in silence for a few minutes longer before he finally spoke. 
“The logical part of me should scold you, (Y/N). That was a bit overboard,” 
You looked up at him. His words implied that the logical part of him wasn’t the one that was winning whatever internal battle he had going on. “And what does the other part of you think?”
He sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. “Truthfully?”
You nodded, nearly melting at the sudden affection. His lips showed the faintest hint of a smile. “Truthfully, I’m flattered,”
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❀yk how Raf blushes and pouts when you do the Heartbeat interaction??
❀ yeahhhh
❀ but also.....feelings
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When Rafayel learned you’d been thrown out of his newest exhibition, he was initially pretty offended. He didn’t even want to be there to begin with. You were the only reason he’d forced himself to come, though he’d never admit it out loud. He had an arsenal of complaints ready to fire off the second he met you outside, after he reasoned with security, of course. 
It was Thomas who had weaved through the crowd, placed an urgent hand on Rafayel’s shoulder, and leaned close to speak for only the artist’s ears: “Security just dragged (Y/N) out of here. She hit someone,” 
The confrontation had luckily gone mostly unnoticed. It happened quick, and security had whisked you out. You’d gone willingly, and the man you’d struck no longer felt like sticking around either. 
Somewhere during the short walk from the back of the building to the front doors, your reason for lashing out had gotten lost in translation. Rafayel was under the impression that you’d thrown hands because someone had dissed his art. 
That, however, was an unfortunate misunderstanding. 
It wasn’t his art that the man had described as ‘worthless.’ It was Rafayel. 
Rafayel had smooth-talked security into letting you come back inside, with the condition that you would not be a problem for the remainder of the night. 
Rafayel had been flattered, but definitely thought you’d overreacted. 
“Not everyone can say they have a bodyguard this protective over art,” He teased, casting an amused glance in your direction. “Think we can make it through the rest of today without another attack?” 
You’d rolled your eyes, still a bit peeved. Who the hell comes to an exhibit specifically to dog the artist, anyway? “That’s not even what happened,” You grumbled. 
“People critique art all the tiiime. That doesn’t mean they should get assaulted over it,” 
“It’s different,” 
“I’m just saying. I’ve never punched anyone at an art gallery. Maybe you’re taking the Bodyguard title too seriously,” 
“Rafayel. You were the art,” 
Rafayel came to an abrupt stop, the air seemingly vanishing from his lungs. He’d heard you. He’d definitely heard you. His brain, however, was doing backflips, struggling to process your last sentence. 
You were the art. 
The gears clicked into place, his cheeks burning hotter and hotter with each passing second. In all honesty, he was conflicted. He was torn between the all-encompassing warmth, the feeling of being appreciated and thought so highly of that you would deck someone in the face purely for speaking ill on his name. The other half of him felt almost bitter. 
You were that same silly girl with a bad memory. And yet, here you were, fighting someone off of instinct when they said something nasty about him. 
You could do that, yet there was so much you couldn’t remember.
He was in a war with his thoughts and emotions, and unbeknownst to you, you were once again the cause. 
He finally collected himself, masking the emotional roller coaster he’d just been on with a chuckle. He patted the top of your head, settling on a teasing comment rather than risking opening the floodgates. 
“You’re so weird, Miss Bodyguard,” 
Rafayel would end up finding you in every lifetime, over and over again, no matter the cost. He’d remember every promise, every touch, every stolen moment. Yet, in every single timeline, you always found a way to make his head spin and his heart do cartwheels in his chest. 
This would forever stick out as one of those moments.  
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⟡ Soft Sylus.
⟡ Soft Sylus.
⟡ SOFT SYLUS.
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Sylus had invited you to tag along on yet another negotiation. He’d claimed he just liked having you at his side, but he truthfully respected your input more than he’d admit out loud. He’d often bring you along under the guise of keeping him company, but would subtly pay attention to your body language and facial expressions. If you weren’t going to bite, neither was he. 
After the first negotiation you attended, you as Sylus’ +1 became a much more frequent occurrence. As long as he was in the room, your safety was guaranteed. Not to mention how a lot of potential deals went off a little smoother when you were in the room to ease the tension. 
Today, the two of you were headed to a hotel a few cities away to meet with a man named Michael. You didn’t have many details about the deal, but you had the basics. If there was anything you needed to know, Sylus would tell you. 
It had taken you exactly 6 seconds after entering the room to decide that you did not like Michael. There was just something about him that had already gotten on your nerves. The arrogance? The ‘up-to-no-good’ vibe he absolutely reeked of?  The way he looked at the two of you like you were nothing more than pests the moment you walked in? 
While it was just you and Sylus on your side of the bargain, Michael had 6 armed guards scattered through the room, which added to your irritation. Michael was clearly a man that thrived off intimidation, yet was too cowardly to have an even playing field. 
Sylus never lost his nonchalance. He strode in like he had nothing to lose, suave and unbothered. He kept a hand pressed lightly against the small of your back as he guided you to a seat, a silent reassurance that everything would be fine.
The meeting had began, but not without Sylus catching how your mood had soured considerably within the first 10 minutes. 
The more Michael talked, the shadier the whole ordeal seemed. He was boasting about some modified protocore that was the ‘best on the market,’ and trying to goad Sylus into purchasing it. 
Sylus wasn’t dumb by any means. But Sylus was also a man that would humor someone for his own entertainment. “Show it to me,” He said, his tone even.
One of the guards gestured for Sylus to follow, and he immediately turned to you, waiting for you to come as well. Instead, you shook your head. You didn’t want to risk being ambushed when you came back if both of you left. Sylus trusted your judgment, knowing that he would be gone for less than 5 minutes. With a quiet “Behave,” cast in your direction, he disappeared with the guard. 
The second the door shut behind him, Michael turned to one of his guards and said something you probably weren’t supposed to hear.  “I’m going to walk that bastard like a dog, just watch.” 
Oh? 
In hindsight, it would have been better to keep your mouth shut. All you had to do was give Sylus a signal when he returned, and he would call this off with no hesitation. Your opinion mattered, after all. He didn’t just bring you to these meetings to serve as eye candy. Knowing this, you should have just brushed Michael’s comment off. However, it had gotten under your skin in a way you couldn’t shake off. The words were leaving your mouth before you could stop them.
“I’d like to see you try,” 
Michael, and all 5 of his remaining guards, immediately looked at you as if locking onto a target. The tension in the room intensified considerably.
Michael scoffed, looking at you as if you were a bug he’d stepped on. You glanced toward the door Sylus had stepped out of moments before, half expecting him to be standing there with an amused smirk on his face. He wasn’t, though.
Michael was on his feet, taking slow steps toward the chair you were sitting in. Despite the shaking in your fingers, you stayed put. “You must think so highly of him,” He drawled, zeroing in on you. “I didn’t know a man like that could catch the attention of a pretty thing like you,”
You didn’t know why, but your anger was rising with each passing second. The implication of his words was clear, but you wanted to hear him say it. It was obvious that he thought of himself higher than Sylus, and clearly didn’t have many polite thoughts about him. You and Sylus weren’t necessarily a
 ‘thing,’ per se. Not yet, anyway.  So why did this piss you off so badly?
“A man like what?” You challenged, staring up at Michael. In your lap, your hands, that had been neatly folded, were slowly clenching into fists.
Michael's mouth twisted into a wolfish, arrogant grin. “I’d say he takes up more space than he’s worth. Cocky, foolish, insufferable–”
Your fist had connected with his jaw before he could get another word out, sending him stumbling backwards, clutching his jaw as he tried to regain his footing. 
It would take you about a week to fully process how the next 15 seconds had gone.
At first, the silence was so intense that you could audibly hear the rapid beat of your own heart.
Then, guns were raised and pointed directly at you. 5 from the guards, all at separate angles, and one directly in front of you from Michael himself. 
Next, gunfire. A lot of gunfire. Multiple shots ringing out from 6 different directions. 
You weren’t exactly sure when Sylus had entered, but he apparently had the timing of a God. You’d been whisked out of harm's way, somehow completely uninjured. You realized later that he likely used his evol somewhere in the mix.
Once safely away from the hotel, Sylus turned to face you, lips set in a thin line but his expression otherwise neutral. He studied you for a long moment. 
“That went well,” He said, his tone lacking any amusement. “Should I not trust you enough to leave you unattended for two minutes?”
You folded your arms over your chest. You didn’t trust the sound of your voice yet. You knew you owed him an explanation, but the adrenaline was still too high and you were still too angry to speak.
Sylus checked you for any injuries and then, to your surprise, grabbed your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.  
“You need to be more careful who you pick fights with,” He warned. His tone was firm, but not unkind. He knew you were more than capable of handling yourself. It was one of the things he appreciated about you. However, the fight today had left a bitter taste in his mouth. This was the first time he hadn’t been in the room the entire time. It could have been a lot worse, and you weren’t bulletproof. This was the first time he’d left you alone for more than 30 seconds, and it had ended with you in a shootout. 
“Maybe he shouldn’t have been talking shit about you the second you walked away,” You retorted, your voice coming out bitter. “Right in front of me. It was just
disrespectful.”
Sylus, who had assumed Michael had started it on his own, was stunned. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t have any quips or sarcastic comments to make. That was what had caused the fight? You, the same person that used to look at him with so much distrust and caution, had thrown yourself into a fight to defend his name while he wasn’t in the room. 
Sylus was silent for a moment, his eyes combing your face for any hint of deception. When your words finally sank in, he nearly melted on the spot. The adoration he’d already felt was intensified. The warmth he felt in his chest was almost too much, and he wasn’t sure whether he should scold you or kiss you. 
Instead, he gently tugged you against his chest, choosing to simply hold you for a moment. It felt like the only correct option. His chin rested against the top of your head, one arm looped around your back as the other cradled your head. He was absolutely flattered, and outrageously smitten.
Yeah, he had it bad. 
“Just when I think I have you figured out, you go and do something else that surprises me,” He murmured fondly, rubbing small circles into your back. You were an endless mystery to him. But as he stood there, holding you against him, he knew he’d happily spend the rest of his life trying to figure you out. 
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Note: 1.4k words just for Sylus I am SO SORRY but I needed this man getting all soft with this prompt slkdhjsalkhd 
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roosterforme · 6 months ago
Text
Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 7 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: One phone call was never going to be enough for Bradley. Another opportunity falls into his lap, and he emails you right away to see if you can make a little time for him. When he shares a bit more with you than he bargained for, he's pleasantly surprised once again by how open and authentic you are.
Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being vulnerable
Length: 4300 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
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Bradley was never usually one to get lost in a daydream. He was exceptionally good at focusing on flying when he was in the air. If he had a task to complete on the ground, he always got it done. But when he spent the rest of his day after talking on the phone with you in his bunk, he wasn't focused on much except the sound of your voice. Then he dug out the pictures you'd mailed to him so he could see your face as well. The combination of everything about you was almost too much, and he didn't know how he'd manage in person.
He still had weeks of his deployment left, and he'd never wanted to get home so badly in his life. That first date was already set. He was annoyed he couldn't give you a firm idea on when it could happen, but you didn't seem to mind too much. In fact, you told him you'd be ready whenever he got back. And that you'd take him any way you could get him. Well, as long as you still wanted him next month, you could have him.
With a smile on his face, Bradley reached for the stack of letters from your class and took the time to judge the drawing contest. All he really did was award each kid their own unique superlative. The purple jet that he thought was Violet's won the 'I Wish the Navy Liked Colors' award. Jayden's drawing of the jet with the dog named Vanessa for a pilot won the 'She Probably Flies Better Than I Do' award. And the one that looked like a dragon won the 'Fanciest Scales' award.
He wrote on the back of each picture, chuckling the whole time. Then he got to the one you drew, and he noticed something he'd missed when he first opened the newest box from your class. Next to his name written on the side of the F/A-18, you'd drawn a little heart. He was all smiles as he flipped it over and started writing.
Hey, Gorgeous,
This one's my favorite, but don't tell the kiddos, okay? The little heart really sold it for me. I can't wait to see you.
Bradley
After he packaged everything up and dropped it off to be sent back to the states, he made his way to dinner. He ate his meatloaf alone once again, but he hadn't felt lonely in months. The adrenaline rush of the phone call was finally starting to wear off, but he felt warm all over. You'd be asleep now back in California, but maybe there was a chance you had in fact emailed him that selfie before you went to bed. And that is what once again lured him back to the lounge. You had a vise-like grip on every part of him, and he was itching to know exactly what you looked like tonight while he was talking to you.
Unsurprisingly, he had to wait a bit until there was a computer free that he could use. Sundays always seemed to be when the lounge was swamped, but he didn't mind. He just sat back and thought about the way you said his name. He could imagine you whispering it. He could even imagine you screaming it.
"Shit," he grunted, hopping up when it was finally his turn, and he logged into his email account to find that you wrote to him approximately fifteen minutes after the phone call ended. And when he opened your message, he leaned in a little closer to make sure nobody else around him could catch even a glimpse of the photos you attached.
His heart started beating in that same erratic way it had when he listened to you telling him you thought about kissing his scars. Not only had you emailed him a sweet looking selfie of you in bed wearing an oversized sweatshirt, you sent a second, decidedly spicier one, too. 
Bradley ran his hand over his mouth and mustache, trying not to groan as he quickly memorized every detail of that second photo. You'd removed that oversized sweatshirt and snuggled down under the soft looking sheet, and there was not a scrap of shirt fabric covering your arms or chest. Inch after glorious inch of the soft swell of your breasts was visible before the sheet forced him to imagine what the rest would look like. And he had a very vivid imagination.
When his hand dropped down to his side, he realized he was staring open mouthed at the photo. The little smirk you wore in it let him know you were absolutely intentional about this, and that was such a huge turn on for him. This is how you wanted him to see you. Fuck. He scrolled back up to the first photo where you were wearing your sweatshirt and a much more innocent smile, and he whispered, "Okay, Gorgeous. You've ruined me."
He realized as he scrolled all the way back up to your actual message that there were probably a lot of guys who got sent straight up pornography from their wives or girlfriends when they were deployed, but this had to be the hottest looking thing that ever graced his inbox. And you were still completely covered up. He shook his head to clear his mind as he started reading.
Bradley,
Thank you for the phone call. I'm sitting here kind of regrouping while the butterflies are still going crazy in my belly. I can't pinpoint exactly what it is with you that sets them off, but hearing your voice for twenty minutes straight has turned me into a boneless heap on my bed. I'm almost afraid of what might happen to me if you touch me.
It's gone. I deleted my profile and the entire dating app. I'm no longer looking for single guys with jobs who are between 30 and 40 years old. I'm just looking for a 36-year old Naval aviator who wants to take me to the beach in Coronado to watch the sunset with Thai food and Prosecco.
I hope you come home soon. Do you have any idea how much longer you'll be gone? Why isn't the Navy taking into consideration the fact that you and I have a date to go on? I'd just really like to see your face in person as soon as possible.
I'm attaching two photos, probably against my better judgement. Maybe it's just my excuse to get you to call me Gorgeous again. I can't wait to see you.
Your favorite pen pal
He wanted to wait until he had some gym selfies to send, but he couldn't leave you hanging. Not when those two, flawless photos caught his eye again. So he started typing up a response, and soon he found that he wanted to talk to you on the phone again badly enough that he was going to go back to one of the admirals to see if there was any way he could.
----------------------------
You had such a hard time falling asleep on Saturday night after talking to Bradley. It was like your body had accepted the inevitable before your brain had. You were completely enchanted by him, and the call made it so much worse. Hearing him call you Gorgeous through your phone speaker was almost more than you could handle. You were turned on and too warm, even without your sweatshirt. You couldn't believe you sent him that photo. You couldn't believe you trusted him enough to keep it private.
He probably dated women in the past who sent him things that were way more explicit than a selfie where they were covered up, but you were still a teacher who wanted to keep her job. You loved your class, and you knew nobody else could handle your kids as well as you could. But you wanted to give Bradley what you could for now.
It was the description of the perfect date and the promise that he'd kiss you as soon as he saw you that kept playing in your mind. And you let it keep playing on loop, because he lived in Coronado. And that's how you finally dozed off. When you woke up on Sunday morning, you had a brand new email in response to your selfies.
Gorgeous,
I'm thrilled to hear the app is gone. All of the other single guys aged thirty to forty are probably at home crying right now, and I can't blame them. I'll just sit here with a smug look on my face.
That phone call was one of the best of my life. The way you say my name is somehow better than I imagined it would sound, and I'd been spending a lot of my free time thinking about it. Hearing your voice and seeing you in these photos is a privilege. That second one had me staring with my mouth hanging open for a few minutes. I think I just about memorized it, but I'm going to check one more time before I log off. Okay, maybe two more times. As much as I love it, I don't want to feel pressured to send me things like that. But dear god, Gorgeous, I mean it when I say you take that word to a whole new level.
You don't need an excuse to get me to call you Gorgeous. Hopefully by next month, you'll be hearing it so much in person that you'll be sick of it. And it's not a matter of if I touch you, it's a matter of when.
As soon as I have a better idea of when I'll be back in San Diego, that information will be in your inbox immediately.
I can't wait to see you,
Bradley
You couldn't wait that long. You would never make it. Your sheets were brushing your bare skin as you thought about him calling you Gorgeous so many times that you got sick of it, but you knew that would never happen. You were going to need another hobby or maybe five to help you pass the time, but for now, you decided to work on your lesson plans for the coming week.
Your kids would probably be happy to learn that you were planning on extending your aviation lessons to the end of the school year. Or at least until Bradley got back. What you wouldn't give to have him visit your classroom. Just the idea of him standing in front of the board, maybe in his flight suit, left you light headed. You already knew your kids would be absolutely delighted to meet him after writing back and forth so many times.
After you managed to distract yourself for a full day, you were just getting into bed when you heard your phone ping with a notification. "Oh god," you groaned in pleasure. When you opened the new email from Bradley, you were met with the promised gym selfies. One was of his reflection which was taken in a long mirror that seemed to cover most of a wall. You could see some other people working out in the background, but front and center was Bradley curling a massive looking dumbbell in snug shorts and a shirt with the sleeves ripped off.
You dropped down onto your bed and zoomed in on his biceps. "Dear Lord." Your heart was hammering in your chest now. Did he not know what he looked like? Did he not know that his body was absolutely flawless? The second photo was even better. The half-smirk, half-smile and the peek of pretty, white teeth. The slightly messy hair. The chocolatey brown eyes. The scars with the beads of sweat running down them. "Unbelievable."
And then you read the short message.
Two gym selfies, as promised. You asked for a nice closeup of my face, and that's as good as it gets. Talk soon, Gorgeous.
You were still looking at the photos when you fell asleep.
-----------------------------
Bradley shouldn't have been surprised that another mission was in the works. He'd been so caught up in you, he almost expected smooth sailing and a direct path back to San Diego so he could get on with his personal life. But no such luck. After several days holed up in planning sessions, the only real happiness he found was in each new email from you.
There was another class photo in one. There was a selfie of you at a Thai restaurant in another. And there were always a lot of fun details about your day, too. But it was the bits where you let him know you were thinking about him that made him a little weaker for you with every passing day. His favorite was when you told him you donated all of your DVDs of movies with spiders in them. He also loved it when you told him that your students wanted to meet him.
If he could just get back, you and he would be watching all the spider-less movies together, and he'd be more than happy to visit your classroom. But, fuck, this deployment was dragging. He was tired, but he wasn't sleeping well. And there seemed to be cabbage rolls every evening in the cafeteria. When he finally made it out on deck a few days before he was supposed to fly the mission, he ended up talking to Marty.
"You need a hand with that?" Bradley asked the mechanic as he worked on taking apart an engine.
"Sure, Lieutenant," Marty replied, handing Bradley some very greasy bolts and a wrench. "Just hang onto those for me."
Two minutes of watching him work, and Bradley wished he'd brought his phone with him to record a video for your class. "The kids would love this," he muttered, and Marty chuckled.
"You still sending stuff to that elementary class back in San Diego? The pen pals?"
"Yeah," Bradley replied. "I think I've kind of adopted them. Or maybe they've adopted me? Either way, I've been writing to them this entire deployment. And... you know how you asked me if I was dating a teacher a few months ago?"
Marty looked at him and laughed. "Let me guess. You fell for their teacher?"
He nodded and sighed when he thought about you. "Yeah... it's just been a lot of emails and letters and one phone call, but now I can't wait to get back home."
"Damn," Marty grunted as he removed another bolt. "Some guys have all the luck." Bradley ended up helping him lift some heavy parts from a crate as Marty told him, "I have a ten minute FaceTime call scheduled for later this week if you want to use it to talk to your new girlfriend again."
Bradley was ready to jump at the chance to see your face and hear your voice at the same time, but instead he said, "I can't take that from you, but thanks, man."
Marty shrugged. "I'll just end up talking to my sister again. You can have it."
Bradley stared at him for a few seconds. "Yeah? You're sure?"
"All yours."
Bradley stayed long enough to get the details and help Marty unload everything else he needed to finish his project, and then he got cleaned up and went to the lounge to email you. If you were able to talk to him over FaceTime, it would be everything he needed to get through this last flight mission and end his deployment on a high note.
--------------------------
"Lieutenant Bradshaw said my drawing is the funniest one!"
"Lieutenant Bradshaw likes the rooster beak I put on my jet!"
"Lieutenant Bradshaw said mine is the least realistic in a good way!"
You were trying not to laugh as you looked at each of the little messages Bradley wrote on the backs of the F/A-18 drawings. They were all somehow well thought out and personalized. It was as if he actually knew these kids. But you supposed that in a way, he did. You kept going back to your desk to look at the note on the back of your drawing.
Hey, Gorgeous,
This one's my favorite, but don't tell the kiddos, okay? The little heart really sold it for me. I can't wait to see you.
Bradley
Seeing him was all you could think about now. You were almost completely convinced that your feelings would translate well from virtual to personal interaction. How could they not? He was as sweet and sincere over the phone as he was through his writing.
When you checked your phone after your kids were dismissed for the day, you tapped on a new email from Bradley before you started packing your bag to head home.
Gorgeous, any chance you have ten minutes you're willing to spend on a FaceTime call? Tomorrow night around 8:00 for you?
You squeaked in delight at the mere thought of it. His face and his voice and his words and his attention all at the same time? Ten minutes of it?
Yes! I'll be ready!
Now you had to wait. You also had to get your friends to bump up the Friday night dinner reservation to 5:00. And you needed to make sure you looked nicer than you did when you were usually lounging at home in your oversized sweatshirt. 
So when Friday evening rolled around, and you barely made it home from dinner by 8:00, you were a little frazzled. You wanted to take the time to fix your makeup, and you wanted to change into a cuter shirt that your friends would have definitely called you out on if they saw you wearing it to dinner, but there was no time. Your phone was already ringing at 8:01.
This time, the butterflies erupted as soon as you accepted the call and saw Bradley sitting there in his flight suit with a hesitant smile on his face. He didn't even have to say a word to make you feel like you were going to float up to the ceiling even as you tried to sit down on your bed.
"Bradley," you breathed softly, and his smile grew exponentially. 
"Hey, Gorgeous."
You bit your lip as you took in all the details of his face on your tiny phone screen. His brown eyes were wide as he did the same to you, and you couldn't stop yourself before you said, "Hey, Handsome."
His cheeks immediately flushed with a pink tint, and he looked down at the table in front of him with a bashful smile. You wanted to climb through your phone to get to him, settle yourself down on his lap, and feel how rough his flight suit was against your hands. You wanted to tip his face up so he was looking at you again, and when he did that on his own, you almost screamed in delight at what he said next.
"Damn, Baby. You didn't need to get all dressed up just to talk to me. You look beautiful right now, but I'm also partial to your sweatshirt."
You looked down at yourself and then back at him with a little laugh. He was staring at you in awe as you said, "I always look like this."
"You always look like this? You always look this hot?" he asked, that little grin you liked so much dancing around his lips. "Seriously?"
"Well, I mean, I didn't do anything special. I wanted to, but I ran out of time, and I definitely didn't want to miss your call."
Your heart was thudding as he really scanned your face and let out a low whistle. "I guess I'll find out for myself soon enough. About two more weeks to go, and then I'll be home. I just got that information today."
"Two weeks!" you exclaimed, nearly dropping your phone. Images of beach sunsets and Bradley's big hand holding yours filled your mind. "That's better than I was hoping for!"
You watched him run his hand through his hair, almost like he was nervous now. "Same. So what do you say? Two Saturdays from now, as long as everything goes as planned, you want to go on that first date with me?"
"Yes, Bradley," you replied immediately. "If you want to spend your first day back on dry land with me, then that's absolutely what I want to do."
His voice was deep and raspy as he said, "Then it's a date." But his eyes still seemed uncertain, and you knew instinctively that there was more going on as he asked, "You think... maybe we could talk about date number two for a minute? I was thinking we would go out to a restaurant so I can prove to you that I clean up okay."
You had to press your lips together for a few seconds before you said, "I have no doubt in my mind that you'd look just as good in a tee shirt as you would in a tuxedo."
That made him laugh as he scratched along the stubble on his jaw. "Humor me, Gorgeous? We would end up going out on a second date, right?" he asked, and somehow you could tell that something else was on his mind. "Maybe we would even go on a third?"
"Would?" you asked softly. "Don't you mean will?"
"Shit, I'm sorry," he said, leaning in a little closer. "Yeah. We will."
You and he studied each other as you asked, "Is there something wrong?"
He leaned back in his seat, and your heart started beating a most uncomfortable rhythm. "Damn it," he muttered, closing his eyes briefly as he took a deep breath. "We only have a few minutes on here, and I'm fucking it up because I'm nervous." You noticed he was rubbing his palms along his thighs, and he looked you in the eye as he said, "I really like you. All I can think about is getting home and doing all the things I promised. I don't usually feel like I have anything special to look forward to in San Diego. Or at least I didn't before we started talking." He cleared his throat and added, "I'm flying a final mission here in a few hours. It's a sensitive one, and... I just wanted you to know that I'll be thinking about you until I have to put my head down and get to work."
"Oh," you gasped, suddenly more aware than ever that he had the kind of anxiety inducing, adrenaline spiking job you could only ever dream of. Your fourth grade classroom was tame by comparison. Your students were nothing compared to opposing fighter jets. His career was dangerous.
Tears filled your eyes as he groaned a little bit and whispered, "I'm sorry, Baby. I kind of killed the vibe."
"You didn't," you told him quickly, studying the concern written on his features. Then your voice got even softer as you asked, "How will I know you're okay?"
He cleared his throat and said, "Sometimes they close off communication as we get closer to port. Of course I'll email you if I can, otherwise I'll let you know when I'm back in San Diego." His brown eyes flicked to the side and then back to you. "I'm going to have to go in a minute here."
There were a lot of things you knew would have to be left unsaid for now, so you told him what you could. "I really like you, too," you promised him, and some of the worry melted away from his face. "And I'm thinking dinner at an Italian restaurant for our second date. That way you can get cleaned up nice, and I can wear a dress that I'll be stressing out about all night long. And you can tell me that I look gorgeous while my foot keeps intentionally bumping yours under the table." He was smiling now, so you decided to go for broke. "And you kind of promised me takeout on your couch with a spider-free movie. I was hoping you'd play a song on the piano for me. I was hoping to cover both of us with a blanket and kiss you senseless. How does that sound?" You were gripping your phone a little tighter, hoping you'd be able to hear his response before he said he had to go.
"That sounds perfect, Gorgeous," he said, looking a lot calmer now. "Let's do that."
"Please, be careful."
"I will."
And then he was gone.
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Bradley needed to make it home, because he decidedly had a lot to do there. Nat was expecting not one, but two dinners out of him now. There were eighteen fourth graders he wanted to meet. And as he ended a FaceTime call with the woman of his dreams while she had tears in her eyes, he knew he wanted to go on those dates more than anything else. If he never got to meet you in person... well he couldn't even think about that right now. He was supposed to report to his jet on the main runway in an hour, but you kept popping up in every corner of his mind. You were more emotionally open with him over a ten minute call than Vanessa ever was.
"Bradshaw!" He turned to see a petty officer coming toward him with a box. "Last mail call."
"Thank you," he replied, already smiling as he recognized your handwriting. His nineteen pen pals were here to keep him company once again, and his heart swelled with something he didn't even want to try to identify at the moment. All he could do was drop the box off in his bunk and tell himself he'd open it when he got back after nightfall.
---------------------------
Vulnerable Bradley is nervous just thinking about what might happen. He's starting to feel like Gorgeous could be be the one waiting on the San Diego end of all of his deployments from now on, but he needs to get through the rest of this one first. Maybe they can meet in the next part? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 8
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madaqueue · 7 months ago
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Good Boy
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pairing: ryomen sukuna x f!reader
themes/content: sub boyfriend sukuna, soft dom reader. language, smut. bondage, handjob, light choking, praise, pet names (baby, sweetheart), mentions of degradation. 18+, MDNI
word count: 2.5k
a/n: subby sukuna that's it send tweet
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“Y’know I’m only doing this for you, right?” Sukuna huffs.
“I know,” you smile from behind him.
Leaning back, you admire your work: the pink rope tied around his wrists holds his arms in place behind his back, with matching ones stationing him on his knees, feet tucked beneath his thighs. His cock stands fully erect, a drop of precum beginning to form along his slit before you’ve even truly begun.
The sight of him makes your heart flutter. “You look so pretty, ‘Kuna,” you purr, sitting up to place a kiss on his cheek.
His skin is warm under your lips, flushing a slight red. “Aw, are you blushing?” you tease gently.
“No,” he scoffs, turning his head away from you. “Just get on with it already, woman.” “Gimme a second sweetheart, I gotta get you warmed up first,” you hum as your eyes cover his form.
A smile tugs at the corners of your lips at just how innocent your boyfriend looks. It’s funny, almost, the way his muscles poke through the knots, tattoos coursing over his rough skin that’s now covered in a dainty pink. Everything about him looks so sweet, so soft, so submissive.
Normally he was the dominant one, demanding power and control in every aspect of his life, and sex was no different. Of course he treated you with care, but sometimes he showed it by fucking you harshly, ravenously, leaving proof of his love across your body in the form of scratches and bruises, a physical manifestation of his unadulterated adoration for you.
In fact, these ropes had originally been bought after a night when the skin of your neck was covered in teeth marks and hickeys from an hour of him teasing you. When you felt him nip at your chest, you couldn’t help squirming in his grasp.
“If you don’t sit still I’m gonna have to tie you down,” he muttered, moving lower to place his mouth around your hardened nipple, sucking on it between his teeth.
Unfortunately his words had the opposite effect, making you writhe even more against his thigh from where he held you in his lap.
“Oh, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he chuckled at your reaction. “Pathetic little sluts like you need to be tied up to behave.”
He bought them the next day.
But, in the mix of all the other toys and gadgets you two rotated through, they had been tossed to the back of the closet and forgotten, unused, until now.
The idea popped into your mind a few days ago while you were scrolling on your phone and a video suddenly caught your eye: in the middle of a bed was a man with his arms and legs bound as a woman moved around him. She treated him softly but firmly, her fingers trailing over his body. You felt your heart rate pick up at the sight, warmth beginning to pool in your stomach as you watched. Seeing the trust, the control, between them sparked something in you.
Unsurprisingly, Sukuna was completely opposed to the idea when you brought it up.
“I’m not some fucking piece of meat to be tied up and toyed with,” he grumbled from the couch.
“Oh, but when you wanted to do it with me it’s fine?” you questioned sarcastically.
Pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, he rolled his eyes. “You know it’s not like that.”
“Please, ‘Kuna? Just once?” you begged, using the nickname you knew pulled at his heartstrings, the one that always made him give in to your desires.
After a moment of silence, he sighed. “Fine,” he conceded, “just once.”
Although he’d never admit it, the idea made his head spin, his cock beginning to strain at his pants just from hearing you say the words. After all, he’s not the type who does something just for the sake of pleasing others; when he agreed, you both implicitly knew there was a part of him that was curious, too.
As he’s perched on the bed in front of you, he finally gets to have his interest satiated.
Returning your mind to the present you settle in behind him, resting your head on his shoulder as your lips trail down his neck. The soft sensation of your breath tickles his skin, making him shiver despite the heat his body gives off.
Making your way down his arms, you trace the lines of his tattoos before following the pattern down his chest. Reaching his thighs, your thumbs draw gentle circles into his muscles.
“Are you gonna fuckin’ touch me or what?” he growls, moving his hips to try and coax you closer to his aching cock.
You hush him, lips still pressed into the space above his collarbone. “Patience, baby.”
He shuts his mouth momentarily at the nickname. Even though he would always deny it, some part of him cherishes the sweet things you call him, holding onto every ounce of praise or affirmation that leaves your lips.
The honeyed whispers, the airy complements, make his heart flutter and gaze soften. He relaxes slightly, dropping his shoulders through a displeased grunt.
Your palms travel his body, moving up his thighs before traveling to his back, trailing kisses along his spine. He shudders at the softness of your lips, the warmth of your hands, as you cover every inch of him, his skin left tingling wherever you touch.
Right now, the key to getting him into the right headspace is to be gentle, loving, the exact opposite of how Sukuna normally is.
Knowing how impatient he gets, you are languid and methodical as you trace the ropes between your fingers. When you reach the ones tied over his wrists, he shifts again, tugging against the restraints.
“Y’know I could break out of this if I wanted to.”
“I know,” you hum, “but you won’t. Because you’re gonna be good for me, right?”
He pauses - he doesn’t want to demean his own strength, but internally he battles the desire to agree with you. He needs you to know that he’s better than this, obviously, but there’s a part of him, buried deep down, that needs to make you happy.
“Good boys use their words,” you prod in his silence.
He takes in an uneven breath as he fights a losing mental battle.
“I’ll
I’ll be good,” he mutters, gaze shifting down to avoid letting you see how dizzy the words make him feel.
Smiling, you place another kiss to his cheek, the action sending sparks through his body.
Your fingertips continue covering the rest of his skin, one moving down his legs as the other runs up his stomach, following the grooves of his abs. When you reach the front of his neck your hand loosely wraps around it, applying a gentle pressure to either side of his carotid.
Before this you had never dared to choke him, and even though this could barely be classified as such, something about it drives him insane. He feels immediately lightheaded, despite knowing that you didn’t hold on for nearly long enough to physically have that effect.
No, it was something else.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” he spits, trying to cover the moan that threatens to escape his throat.
His words nearly get a rise out of you, but knowing that’s his intention, you calm your breathing before you respond.
“Watch your language, sweetheart,” you scold softly, “you wouldn’t want me to have to gag you, now would you?”
The idea makes his heart race in panic. Thinking about being gagged doesn’t worry him, he realizes - no, the dread in his stomach is there for a different reason. Is he afraid of disappointing you?
Letting out an unsteady sigh, he shakes his head no. “M’sorry,” he mumbles.
You hold back a grin at his words, your heart beginning to race in excitement. Sukuna has never, ever, said sorry for something like this before.
It was rare that he needed to apologize for things, both of you knowing and respecting each other’s limits well. However, on the few occasions when he did something like leaving hickeys in more visible places than you liked, he would just brush it off with a laugh. “You didn’t really expect me to hold back when your cunt is that good, did you?” he’d tease with a smack of your ass.
Hearing him now, you can tell something in him has switched.
“That’s my good boy,” you coo, placing another kiss to his neck.
Hearing the name, a sound shockingly close to a deep whimper leaves his lips.
Your touch is so light, your lips so soft, your words so sweet, he wants to just melt, giving everything into you. Something about being physically held in place like this makes him feel safe, dependent; despite the tight ropes against his skin the only thing he can feel is you.
His head is spinning, thoughts getting fuzzy as you trace over his body, your gentle touch igniting flames of desire beneath his skin.
As you continue drawing your fingertips along him, the teasing slowly becomes too much, his mind clouded with the need for more as you feed him soft praises. His hips buck off the bed, his cock straining against the ties as precum begins to roll down his length.
“Please just fucking touch me,” he groans, voice so low it’s nearly a whisper.
“Just one second, baby,” you purr, trying to keep him calm.
Sukuna has always been demanding, wanting things done his way exactly when he wants it. As such, you know you have to be careful, balancing his desires with your control, placating his needs with tenderness.
A smirk crosses your face as you think up a way to satisfy both.
Holding your hand out in front of his mouth, you open your palm. “Spit,” you softly command.
His eyes widen, barely even noticeably, as he processes your words. There is absolutely no fucking way he’s about to do this, and the fact that you would even consider making him is foolish. He wants to laugh at the absurdity of your request, but before he can, he’s leaning forward, body moving on its own as he parts his lips, allowing droplets of saliva to pool into your hand.
What the fuck happened to him?
Pleased at his compliance, you smile. “Good boy, Sukuna.”
Your words make him nearly shake in anticipation, his mind dazed as your hand finds its way to his cock. Using the mixture of spit and precum you stroke his length, thumb twirling his flushed tip.
Another guttural groan leaves his throat as his eyes flutter shut, leaning his head back against you. He should be embarrassed, ashamed of how absolutely pathetic he’s being, but all he can think about is how good your hand feels wrapped around him.
Grasping at any last shred of control, he weakly thrusts up into you, his movements limited by the restraints
Bringing your free hand over to his hips, you hold him in place. “Stay still for me, okay baby?” you hum.
Letting go of everything, he gives in. His motions still as you continue stroking him, his mouth hanging open as he takes in uneven breaths.
Normally when he’s fucking you his thoughts are hurried, almost frenzied, as he plans how he’s going to ravage you. He taunts you, making you beg, soaking in every sound you release as he drills into you.
But now, his mind is quiet. The only thing he can focus on is the sound of your voice, your words of praise echoing through his entire body, amplifying his desire to please you, his need to be good for you.
Continuing your motions, the wet sound of your hand sliding up and down him fills your bedroom, his cock twitching in your palm as you glide over his length. From the way his chest begins to heave with each breath you can tell he’s approaching his release, his eyes screwed tightly shut in pleasure.
“Are you close, ‘Kuna?” you ask, head still resting on his shoulder from where you sit behind him.
He nods, a soft “Mhm” vibrating in his throat.
“Remember what I said? Good boys use their words,” you remind him.
“I-I’m gonna-”
You cut him off. “Good boys also ask permission.”
His breath hitches for a moment. He never begs. Never. It was always you, asking him to let you finish one more time, or pleading with him to soften up as he overstimulates you. He loved the way you’d get all whiney for him, but it was something he viewed as inherently beneath him.
But right now, he doesn’t fucking care.
“Let me cum,” he mutters, his voice low and gravelly.
“Say please.”
Fuck, is he really about to do this? Is he seriously this fucking pathetic?
“Please,” he whispers.
You can’t stop yourself from grinning, giddy at just how eager he’s become, how malleable he is under your touch.
“Go ahead, baby,” you murmur, pressing your lips against his neck.
Picking up your pace, your grip tightens ever so slightly around his cock as you reach his tip, a shiver racking his body as your other hand moves to gently massage his balls.
“Open your eyes for me, sweetheart,” you purr into his ear, breath hot against his skin. “I want you to see what a mess you’re about to make.”
Without a second of hesitation he complies, his gaze struggling to focus on his lap as he tilts his head down. His eyes are glassy, far away, as he moves, mouth still hanging open.
You both watch in awe as thick ropes shoot from his tip, coating his thighs in the sticky whiteness.
“That’s it, you’re doing so good f’me,” you coo, droplets of cum slowly pouring down his length as you coax him through his ecstasy.
He’s silent as he finishes, no words able to form in his head, too dizzy from pleasure to think. His blown pupils can only observe as your hand slows, lazily following your movements as you pull your cum-coated fingers to his mouth.
The moment he feels you on his lips he opens them further, allowing you to slide your digits in, too dazed in bliss to argue.
“There you go, doinïżœïżœ s’good,” you murmur as he sucks himself off of them, his eyes fluttering closed.
Holding him against the warmth of your bare chest, his body begins to tremble as he comes down from his high, suddenly feeling the tightness of the restraints against his skin. Leaning up you pull your fingers from his mouth, gently placing a peck on his cheek as you get to work untying him
“You did so good, ‘Kuna,” you hum as you remove the ropes from his legs and wrists, kissing the indents left behind on his skin.
As soon as he’s free he wraps his arms around you, his body hot as he pulls you into his lap. He shoves his face into the crook of your neck, holding you still for a moment.
“You better not fucking tell anyone about this,” he mutters into you.
“Of course not,” you whisper, reaching a hand up to gently stroke the back of his hair. “Now, let me take care of my good boy and get you all cleaned up, okay?” you follow, peppering his face with kisses as he holds back a lazy grin.
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wheeboo · 2 months ago
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pulse points | wen junhui
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SYNOPSIS. Being the TA for your anatomy class has always been really rewarding, especially stemming in your passion for the medical field. But as it’s approaching the peak of the school semester and labs have gotten more intense, you aren’t surprised to be dedicating your time to tutoring your strangely handsome, dorky, yet enigmatic classmate during after school hours — and reassuring him how to not be afraid of dissections. PAIRING. wen junhui x TA!reader (ft. performance unit as jun's roommates + mentions of wonwoo and jihoon) GENRE. fluff, classmates to lovers, humour WARNINGS/TAGS. unrealistic TA x student dynamics lmao, lots of medical sciency-anatomy talk, talks about dissections n cutting into things (they dissect a sheep brain), mentions of tools used for dissections, yn is wayyy too studious its a bit unhealthy perhaps, their love language is napping together n sharing food :(, alcohol and drinking (yn gets drunk 😣), they flirt in the middle of a damn dissection AHHAHA WORD COUNT. 15.9k
notes: this is my fic for the "back to school" collab hosted by @camandemstudios! i hope u all enjoy <3 was lowkey hating this fic as i wrote it but... i think it turned out fine?!?! thank you to all my moots, specifically @bananabubble @slytherinshua @etherealyoungk and the collab discord server for either helping me w ideas n brainrot or reading over the fic!! love u all to the stars and back <3
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Three dollars is not enough for Jun to buy himself lunch. 
He could probably snag himself a stale, English muffin from the dining hall, but then he’d be walking around campus with a dry tongue until after his classes end. And unsurprisingly, he forgot his water bottle back in his apartment. Briefly, he considers texting Soonyoung or Minghao to perhaps drop by the apartment and grab his water bottle or even a quick snack that’ll last him, but the two of them were already knee deep enough of responsibilities of their own. 
Fucking capitalism. 
He’s already out of breath speed walking all the way from across campus and through four different hallways. The large windows of the science building bring in the natural sunlight at the peak of the afternoon, allowing it to cascade across the polished floors and right to the ends of his feet with every step that he takes. 
Jun purses his lips together tightly as he rounds one last corner before arriving in front of his current class: Anatomy. The quick glance at the time displayed on his phone shows that he’s around eight minutes late, which is way better than the fifteen minutes from last week. His shoulders slouch slightly with a bit of dread as he reaches for the doorknob and pulls it open.
Compared to the beginning of the year, there’s more empty seats in the lecture hall now. Honestly, Jun is surprised he hasn’t dropped out of the class yet, because his grade in all honesty isn’t
 the best, to put it simply𑁋he’s passing, somehow, but just barely.
But he simply can’t afford to drop it and take on a new class like a snap of a finger, and he knows that if he bails now, he’ll only be prolonging his graduation date, a situation neither his parents nor his bank account would be happy about. He wasn’t even supposed to be in this class in the first place, but his horrible procrastination habits and the fact that the other classes he wanted filled up so quickly left him with no other choice.
Jun sits down in a seat near the back of the class, trying to blend in and hoping the professor won’t notice his tardiness. He swiftly pulls out his notebook and laptop and redirects his focus to the front of the classroom, where he sees Professor Lee already lecturing something about vascular anatomy and blood circulation, motioning towards the slideshow displayed on the screen. 
“
the brachiocephalic trunk branches off the aortic arch, which divides into the right subclavian artery and the right common carotid artery. These arteries supply blood to the arm and the brain, respectively
”
The words seem to flow through his brain like water. Even when he jots them down in his notes for him to study later, he reads the words like hieroglyphics. Perhaps it’s the hunger getting to him or just the mounting stress, but the lecture feels like it’s slipping through his fingers.
By the time Professor Lee finishes with the lecture, he has five pages of notes that feel like a jumble of terms and diagrams.
However, just as he thought he might finally catch a break, the slideshow switches to the next slide. 
“Now, let’s discuss the final major lab that will be crucial for your grades,” Professor Lee explains, a determined look on his face. “Your dissections that you will be finishing the year off with. I’m letting you all know about these in advance so you would have plenty of time to prepare.”
Jun’s stomach drops. Dissections. Of course, he knew it was coming, as it was quite literally listed in eye-catching bold letters in the syllabus at the beginning of the term. Yet the thought of cutting into anything and seeing its insides makes him almost squeamish. 
“This will account for a significant portion of your final grade. I can’t stress enough how important it is to take this seriously. Remember that dissections aren’t just about retaining names and locations in the body. They’re about seeing the relationships between different structures and understanding how they function together in real life.”
Every fibre of his being is aching for him to raise his hand and stupidly refute. He imagines what he’d say𑁋“I’m not good with blood,” or “Is there another activity I could do because I’m absolutely scared shitless?”𑁋but the words stick in his throat. Instead, he slouches further in his seat, hoping to disappear. He weighs all of his options, but they’re all equally unappealing: he can’t drop the class, he can’t afford to fail, and he certainly can’t magically become proficient at dissections overnight.
“Since the class has an uneven amount of students and the limited amount of specimens we have, I’ve decided to pair you all up. Y/N, may you hand out the partner lists?”
Jun feels himself tense in his seat as his eyes scan the room and land on you. Not only are you the TA of the class, but your seemingly calm demeanour as you drift throughout the room handing each student paperwork makes you appear almost intimidating to his eyes. 
When you finally reach him, he swears he catches a glimpse of a slight curl to your lips as you silently hand him the slip of paper that contains his partner assignment, before walking down to the next person. 
At first, the paper essentially states the same information that was discussed earlier: the dissection assignment, guidelines, and a list of required materials. But then his gaze falls to the part that matters most: his partner's name.
Y/N L/N, it reads. You’re his partner. Shit.
Your calm, composed attitude and role as the TA have already set a high bar for expectations in his mind. You’re probably going to be hyperanalysing and dissecting every aspect of his class performance, knowing his poor little heart wouldn’t be able to handle all that. You probably already have this tarnished reputation of him in your mind, with his frequent tardiness and the amount of times he’s dozed off in class.
Jun glances around the lecture hall, noticing other students exchanging whispers and glances at their own partner assignments. Some seem relieved, while others look as apprehensive as he feels. His stomach churns with the thought of having to work closely with you.
Professor Lee clears his throat and speaks, “Now that you all know your partners, I request that you all sit next to each other. These will be your seats starting from today and until the lab finishes. I also strongly encourage you all to exchange contact information with each other. Your collaboration together will be vital to your success in this lab.”
As the students shuffle around, Jun finds himself stuck in an uncomfortable limbo, watching as everyone pairs up and settles into their new seats, naturally exchanging contact information with one another. Then he shuffles for his backpack that was leaning against his chair in order to go find where you sit, but as he’s about to stand up, he’s met with you taking a seat right next to him.
Your eyes meet. A faint smile crosses your features. His backpack slips off his shoulders and falls to the floor with a dramatic thump.
“Hi,” You greet him softly, before offering a hand to him. “Granola bar? Had an extra one.”
Jun just blinks, eyes flickering between your face and the hand you have extended out to him. Then he awkwardly clears his throat, tentatively reaching out to grab the granola bar from your grasp, and the warmth emitting from your hand seems to crawl up his neck. 
“Thanks,” he mutters sheepishly, shifting his gaze away to hide a small upturn to the corners of his lips. 
The rest of class passes by in a blur, mainly with Professor Lee going over proper attire to wear and safety protocols for the dissection labs. And when the clock strikes dismissal time, students begin to filter out of the lecture hall, chatting amongst themselves as Jun struggles to stuff his laptop inside his backpack. 
You’re already gone to the front to talk to Professor Lee when Jun looks over. He watches as you hand in what looks like a stack of paper, only to be given another one right back, probably of assignments that the class has done lately. The air of professionalism that surrounds you is quite admirable, he would say. 
You seem to exchange a few more words with Professor Lee before turning on your heel to leave the lecture hall, the stack of papers neatly held under your arm.
By the time Jun is already on his way to his next class, he pulls the granola bar that you had given him out from the pocket of his jeans, unwrapping it and taking a bite out of it, savouring the moment as it relieves his nerves and gnawing hunger. 
Then by the time finishes his last class for the day, reality hits him the second he steps out of the building. Figuratively, and maybe even literally, at this point. 
He forgot to get your number for this lab.
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The click of your pen echoes throughout the vast lecture hall. Unintelligible mutters leave your lips as your eyes quickly scan over the papers in front of you with ease. Among the many tasks you have assigned as TA, grading assignments is one of them, and you find yourself marking and correcting each paper just as you’ve done many times before. 
There used to be rumours floating around that your grading style was particularly strict, even more so than Professor Lee. Though it was probably spread around with the intention to intimidate other students and establish your reputation as someone annoyingly meticulous, you hardly let it get to you. 
The truth is, you were fair in your grading, but thorough. You didn’t see the point in letting half-baked work slide, especially when you knew these assignments could determine someone’s future. Medicine has been your passion for as long as you could remember, and that dedication extended into almost everything you did. Being the TA for the class was just one factor of it. 
It’s much, much quieter after school hours when most classes have finished for the day, and it’s natural to bask in the peacefulness that drifts throughout the barren room. You sort out the papers in front of you in a neat stack before taking a moment to stretch your arms up above your head, a soft sigh leaving you at the tension dissipating away from your limbs. 
As you begin to shuffle through all the papers in front of you𑁋separating them into piles of graded assignments and unfinished ones that you’ll save for later on𑁋there’s a quiet knock at the door that makes you pause in place. You turn your head towards the door, anticipating for someone to come in. 
Then another knock.
You swear you see some sort of shadow in the door window. It appears then disappears, and you  roll your eyes, thinking it was just someone who was lost or purposely going around knocking on each door (which has happened way more than one could expect). 
The shadow appears again, and this time, you decide on heading to the door yourself. And as you twist the doorknob and pull the door open simultaneously, you find yourself coming face-to-face with Jun, who looks a bit sheepish as he’s caught mid-knock. His eyes widen upon seeing you right in front of him, and he brings his hand down to his side. 
You blink up at him, not expecting for him to be here at this moment of the day.
“Junhui?” 
It’s at this point of his life that Jun realises he really isn’t used to people calling him by his proper first name. But the way you say it is different𑁋soft and warm, like an unexpected compliment.
“Uh, hi,” he greets a tad bit awkwardly, mentally slapping himself in the face. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” 
“Oh, no, you’re not. Don’t worry,” You tell him reassuringly, catching the way his eyes seem to flicker everywhere but on you. “Is there anything I can help you with?” 
Jun fidgets slightly, his gaze bouncing between the floor and your face. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. “Actually, I... um, forgot to get your number earlier today. For
 for the lab, I mean. Professor Lee said we should exchange information so I thought I would ask. Unless you don’t want to, of course.”
You raise an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing at your lips. “Ah, I see. No problem. I’m glad you came by to get it. Here, let me just𑁋”
You shove into your back pocket to retrieve your phone, only to feel that it wasn’t there. Then you glance over to your desk, seeing it sitting next to your abundance of papers, before returning back to Jun.
You shove a hand into your back pocket to retrieve your phone, only to feel that it wasn’t there. Then you glance over to your desk, seeing it sitting next to your abundance of papers, before returning back to Jun.
“Here, you can come in. Let me just get my phone real quick.” You step to the side and open the door wider for him.
Jun visibly hesitates in the doorway, before muttering a quiet thank you and stepping inside the lecture hall. It’s certainly a sight to see the room so stripped of other students besides you and him, the sounds of his footsteps bouncing off the walls. He takes in the stacks of papers that you have spread across your desk, and he feels some nerves snake their way up his spine at the thought of you grading his work.
“Wow, that looks like a lot,” he comments gingerly. 
“Yeah, it’s quite the pile, right?” You agree with a light chuckle as you grab your phone and unlock it. “Always happens near the end of the sem.” 
Jun’s eyes wash over you with a look of concern. “That seems
 stressful.”
You just shrug nonchalantly. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. Besides, it keeps me busy.” 
“Well, you should get some good rest after this then,” he remarks coolly. 
“Wish I could, but I have some tutoring scheduled in about half an hour,” You say, tone warm but tinged with a hint of weariness as you glance at the time on your phone. “One of the students in the intro biology class needs help with some of the basics before their midterm. So
 rest will have to wait.”
From that, Jun shifts awkwardly, his fingers playing with the strap of his backpack. His brain races as he considers his options. You’re clearly knowledgeable and dedicated, not to mention you seem approachable, but the thought of admitting how much he’s struggling makes his throat dry, plus the guilt of adding more to your busy plate. 
“Tutoring, huh?” Jun finally says, trying to sound casual. “Is that
 something you do a lot?”
You nod, tapping away on your phone as you pull up your contact information. “Yeah, actually. It’s nice to help people out. Keeps me up with the material too. Usually I’m free most days at any time after classes.”
Jun continues to gaze at you wonderingly until after you pick up your head to look at him, to which he faces away immediately. He scratches the back of his neck bashfully, before fixing his posture and clearing his throat.
“Do you
 have room for one more student?” Then he feels the immediate regret afterwards. “It’s okay if not. I know that you’re busy and all that𑁋”
“Junhui,” You interrupt gently, a calm smile on your face. “I have room. Don’t worry about it.
He lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, the reassuring warmth on your face easing the knots in his stomach. “Really? You wouldn’t mind?”
“I’d be more than happy to find a time that works for us both. Just let me know what you need, and we’ll figure a time out. We’re lab partners, after all,” You say gleefully. “Speaking of which, you can put your number in here.”
You extend an arm with your phone in-hand. Jun takes the phone from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment, and types in his phone number and information. When he hands the phone back, he looks up to meet your eyes, trying to muster a more confident expression.
“Thank you so much, really, I
” His voice trails off for a moment, trying to regain his words. “I’ll owe you one for this, truly.” 
“There’s no need.”
Jun shakes his head. “Seriously, I’ll feel bad.”
You bite at your bottom lip in thought, an endearing look washing over your features as you consider his insistence. The pleading in his eyes is hard to ignore, and it makes your heart soften in your chest. You take a moment to think before offering a small, playful grin.
“Alright.” You cross your arms together. “We’ll see.” 
Perhaps
 you aren’t as intimidating as he thinks.
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Jun is staring at a sheep brain. 
Not a real one𑁋a picture of one, specifically. It’s apparently very similar to the human brain, and the specimen he’s expected to dissect for the upcoming lab. 
He stares at the image displayed on the large screen right before his eyes, feeling a strange mix of fascination and dread. The detailed structures and labels are overwhelming, each word swimming in and out of focus as he tries to absorb the information. It's not that he isn't interested𑁋on the contrary, there's a part of him that's genuinely curious about how it all works, and the other part of him is utterly disturbed. 
You’re sitting next to him again, just like everyone else is sitting next to their partners, taking notes and even drawing a very rushed outline of the brain on your paper. 
“We have to dissect that
?” Jun whispers under his breath, as if speaking any louder might bring the brain to life. 
“Yep,” You reply, glancing over at Jun. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
Jun attempts to stifle a groan, eyes going between the image on the screen and down to his near-empty notes. He can’t help but wonder how on earth he’s going to get through this without completely embarrassing himself.
Letting your eyes roam over Jun for a moment, the visible discomfort in the way he crosses his arms together and the furrow in his brow doesn’t escape your notice. Casually, you scoot your chair towards him a little bit, along with your notebook so that it’s settled in the space between the two of you with the outline of the brain clearly visible on the page. Your shoulder almost brushes against his. 
“Here,” You say softly, tapping your pen on the page. “I’ve got the main structures labeled already. You can add them to your notes if you want. I can explain it to you in more detail when you come to tutoring tomorrow?”
Oh, that’s right. Tomorrow is the day you both were free and decided it was the day where Jun could stop by after classes end to have his first tutoring session with you. 
“Yeah, uh, that would be great,” Jun responds quietly, peeking over at how neat and organised your notes appeared to be. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” You nod, before soundlessly shuffling inside your bag and extending it out to Jun. “Granola bar?” 
Jun glances at the granola bar being offered by you, its wrapper crinkling slightly as you hold it out to him. He smiles, a little lopsided but genuine, and takes the bar from you. The hesitation in his shoulders has deflated slightly than from the first time you proposed one to him. 
Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
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“Bro, are you going out on a date or what? You’re stinking up a storm here.” Soonyoung lets out a few dramatic coughs at the sudden sharp scent of Minghao’s perfume hitting his nose, followed by Chan behind him nearly gagging at the smell. Though obviously one would expect for the owner himself to be the one using it, he certainly didn’t expect for the culprit to be none other than Jun.
Okay, yes, he may have accidentally sprayed a shit ton of Minghao’s perfume on himself, which was a bit of an overkill. But he clearly wasn’t thinking straight after waking up from a nap between deciding to take a really quick shower or stealing his roommate’s expensive perfume. 
“You think this is too much?” Jun asks unsurely. 
Beside him, Chan rolls his eyes while clutching a bowl of ramen. “You smell like you’re trying to cover up a crime scene. It might suffocate someone. Where are you even going anyway?”
Jun clears his throat. “Tutoring𑁋”
“Tutoring?!” Soonyoung exclaims in surprise. “For which class?”
“Anatomy𑁋”
“Hell no,” Soonyoung crinkles his nose at the mention of anatomy. “You're telling me you’re getting all dolled up for a tutoring session on dissecting brains and guts? Are you trying to seduce the organs or something?” 
Jun groans at his roommate’s words, shaking his head. But before he can say anything in response, Chan seems to beat him to it.
“Don’t you have this really strict TA in your class too? I’ve heard that they don’t even offer partial credit or crack a smile during lectures. Like, they’re just a machine, dude,” the youngest adds in.
It’s quite literally insane to hear that kind of description about you leave Chan’s mouth when all of his interactions with you have been nothing but short and sweet, to put it simply. Though he won’t deny he’s heard all those rumours spread around about you𑁋that you’re strict, and perhaps a bit intimidating. He’s had his fair share of moments where he felt overwhelmed by your grading and meticulous nature. Yet from what he’s seen of you so far, you’re passionate, friendly if anything, and your smile is
 cute. 
Jun only shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, they’re in my class, but I’m just trying to get my grade up before the year ends. I think I can handle them.” 
Soonyoung huffs a breath, stepping up to Jun and giving him some sort of comforting pat on the back, almost like he feels bad for him. 
“Well, good luck, dude,” he reassures him, though it hardly eases Jun’s nerves at all. “Don’t get crucified in there.” 
As Jun wanders down the familiar hallway to the classroom, he finds his thoughts beginning to second-guess everything. What if he ultimately fails meeting your expectation at the end of the session? What if he struggles to fully grasp the material and ends up looking like an absolute fool in front of you by the time the real dissections roll around? 
However, those thoughts are pushed away when the door to the classroom swings open before he has the opportunity to knock, with you standing on the other side. Your face seems to light up at the sight of him, and it makes Jun briefly think about what Soonyoung said earlier about you. Like
 was he talking about the same person?
“Hey, you made it,” You greet him, stepping aside so he could walk in. ïżœïżœïżœLet me just finish organising some things and we can start.” 
Jun’s eyelashes bat together in curiosity as he watches you rummage through some papers, before deciding it's worth sitting down to wait for you. He places himself down an empty desk, fishing out his notebook and laptop and whatever he may need, though he doesn’t really know. By the time you’re making your way over to him, you set your stuff right next to his. 
“Okay.” You let out a relieved breath, peering at him. “Where do you want to start?” 
Oh, he hadn’t really thought that far ahead yet.
“Uh,” Jun stammers, fumbling for a moment, his mind suddenly drawing blanks. He quickly opens his notebook to the page where he had jotted down some half-baked notes during class and is staring back at him like a puzzle missing half its pieces. “Maybe
 maybe we can start with what we’re going over in class right now? And just go down from there?”
“We can do that,” You agree without hesitation, leaning in more so that you were able to see his notes. Jun draws himself slightly back. “So, as you know, we’re going to have to be familiar with the parts and functions of the brain since it’s also part of the dissections. What I like to do is break it down into smaller sections and tackle each one individually. It might make the whole thing less overwhelming.”
Jun just nods, appreciating the way you’re making things more approachable. 
You grab a blank sheet of paper and draw a quick, simple outline of the brain, labeling the major parts with clear, concise notes. “Let’s go over the basics𑁋the cerebrum, cerebellum, and brainstem. These are the main regions we need to understand before diving into all the nitty-gritty details. Is that okay?”
He nods again, moving back slightly closer so he can see what you’re drawing. 
“The cerebrum is the largest part of the brain and is responsible for higher brain functions like thinking, reasoning, and sensory processing,” You continue, pointing to the relevant part of your drawing. “It’s divided into the left and right hemispheres, and each one controls the opposite side of the body.”
Jun watches as you explain, occasionally nodding to show he’s following along. There’s something calming about the way you speak𑁋gentle, but confident, filled with poise. He tries to shake off the thought, reminding himself that he’s here to study, not to admire the way your eyes light up when you speak so passionately about a topic as ridiculous and complex as the damn brain. 
You’re so different from what people say. There’s no sign of the strict, no-nonsense TA everyone talks about. 
“...and that’s why the frontal lobe is so important for decision-making and problem-solving. I like comparing it to, let’s say, a CEO,” You explain. “It’s where a lot of our executive functions happen. Think of it as the brain’s ‘boss’ making the big decisions and planning.”
Jun blinks for a moment, snapping back to attention, quickly jotting down a note to make it seem like he was paying attention. He actually was, sort of. Somehow he’s lucky enough for you to not notice him being distracted (or you do, and he’s the one who didn’t notice). 
“Frontal lobe, right,” he mutters lowly, under his breath.
“The cerebellum is our little assistant to the CEO. It’s responsible for our movement, coordination, and balance,” You say, pointing to a spot on the sketch at the very back of the brain and above the brainstem. “Think of it as the brain’s quality control. It just makes sure that whatever movements we do are smooth and precise, so
” 
Nope. He still can’t detect those rumours that paint you as some sort of cold, calculated, and harsh TA. He spots not a single one of those in your demeanour. Briefly, he wonders whether or not those rumours bother you, if they’ve ever bothered you or made you feel misunderstood. Swiftly, though, he brushes those thoughts away𑁋he’s more focused on you than the material at hand. 
It’s hard not to look at you, in all honesty. 
“Junhui?” Your voice pulls him back to reality.
“Huh?” he responds, a little too quickly.
You tilt your head slightly, a small, knowing smile on your lips. “I asked if you’re ready to move on to the brainstem, or do you want to go over the cerebellum again?”
“Oh, um
 no, I’m good,” he says, feeling his face heat up slightly. He hopes you don’t notice how flustered he is. “Let’s move on.”
You nod, satisfied with his answer, and continue your explanation, turning your attention to the next section of the brain. 
“The brainstem,” You begin, pointing to an area at the bottom of the brain with the pencil. “is like the brain's relay station. It connects the brain to the spinal cord and controls many of the body’s automatic functions, like breathing, heart rate, and digestion. Without it, our bodies wouldn't be able to function properly
”
Jun observes as you draw a line down the sketch, clearly marking the brainstem. He’s listening, or at least trying to, but his mind keeps drifting back to how comfortable this whole situation feels. He expected to be a nervous wreck, fumbling through explanations and possibly embarrassing himself in front of you. But instead, he finds himself oddly at ease, more focused on how you’re able to break down the complex information into something so much more digestible.
“Still with me?” You ask suddenly, looking up from your notes to meet his gaze.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here,” Jun answers unsurely, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. He offers a small smile, hoping it masks his earlier distraction.
A flicker of amusement flashes in your eyes, and there’s a warmth in your expression that puts Jun further at ease. “Okay, great. We can continue then.”
The rest of the session goes by surprisingly rather quickly. You guide Jun through the material, your explanations helping Jun absorb the information more effectively than the regular in-class lectures. It makes him think about how great you would be as a professor, or anything in the medical field. Everything just seems to flow out of you seamlessly as you discuss various brain functions and their relevance to anatomy and dissections.
As Jun is finishing up the last of some notes, you ask, “Would you mind if I write you a little sticky note? To tell you what to look over when you’re reviewing on your own?” 
Jun looks up, a bit surprised but grateful. “That would be good, thank you.” 
You stand up to retrieve a sticky note from Professor’s Lee desk, before returning back to Jun and writing down: 
Review over neuroanatomy and its functions! ‱ᮗ‱  
Finally, you plaster the sticky note at the corner of the page in his notebook. 
There’s a comfortable silence that follows as you both gather your belongings. It feels like a small victory for Jun𑁋he not only survived the session but actually, in a way, enjoyed it.
As you both stand up, ready to leave, you glance over at him.
“By the way, I don’t think you need all that perfume on,” You say, a hint of laughter in your voice.
Jun’s eyes widen, caught off-guard. Shit. “Oh, uh𑁋yeah, that
”
You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “It’s not that it’s bad, it’s just
 a little overwhelming. Maybe tone it down next time?”
Jun’s face flushes as he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry, I uh
 was rushing and just grabbed what I could find. I didn’t mean to overdo it.”
“You’re all good,” You reassure him, still smiling as you sling your bag over your shoulder. “Just a little heads-up. So, anyway, for the next session
”
Next session? His jaw nearly drops to the floor at your casual mention of a next session. 
“...I think I’ll try and set up a little lesson plan we can reference off of
 probably review over the cardiovascular system
”
“You
 You don’t have to do all that,” Jun interjects. “It sounds like a lot of work.” 
You dismiss him off with a reassuring wave. “It’s no trouble. I think it’ll help to have a structured plan for us to follow. It’ll make sure we cover everything orderly.” 
Jun zips his mouth shut and just nods in agreement, unable to hide the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, biting it back when he hangs his head down to the ground. When he perks back up, he finds you over at Professor Lee’s desk, sorting through some papers before organising the stack and preparing to finally leave. He opens his mouth, but the words he wanted to say stick to his tongue.
“I’ll see you later?” Jun calls out to you instead, his voice bouncing off the walls of the lecture hall. 
You glance up at him in acknowledgment. “I’ll see you later, Junhui.”
He takes a visible gulp.
“Jun,” he suddenly says, saying it as if he were correcting you, which in a way, he is, but it comes out a bit awkwardly. “You can call me just Jun, if you’d like.” 
A wave of surprise washes over your features, before ultimately fading into a pleasant smile.
“Alright, Just Jun,” You reply, tilting your head slightly. “I’ll see you later.” 
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One could probably say you’re a party pooper. Not necessarily intentionally, but instead of filling up your college experience with going to parties and social events, you find yourself buried within pages of textbooks. Your weekends aren’t filled with the chaoticness of drinking and loosening up; rather, they consist of quiet study sessions in your room and creating new lecture material.
You’re not avoiding fun𑁋at least, that’s what you always tell yourself𑁋you’re just focused on achieving your academic goals.
It’s a routine carved ever since you were younger, your parents constantly instilling that education is the key to success, and you’ve taken that message to heart. From an early age, you learned to prioritise your studies over everything else. As you grew older, you carried that mindset with you, where you’ve become known among your peers as the diligent, dependable student and TA who always has their priorities straight.
Your schedule is precise, your assignments are always turned in on time, always prepared for every quiz and exam, and your grades reflect the countless hours you’ve spent studying. It’s a reputation you’re proud of, but it also comes with a certain level of pressure𑁋pressure to maintain those high standards, to never let yourself slip.
You sit back in the seat, satisfied after crafting a proper lesson plan and organising your materials for your next tutoring session. When you glance over at your planner to see who was coming in today, the name that you spot is𑁋
Knock. 
You glance up from your planner and over to the door. “Come in!”
It takes a few moments for the door to swing in, and the tall figure that steps through is unmistakable𑁋light brown hair slightly fluffed out, a half-opened black backpack hanging on his shoulders, and an oversized hoodie that appeared way more comfortable than it needed to be.
“Jun?” You look at the time on your phone. “You’re here early.” 
“Oh, yeah
” Jun runs a hand through his tousled hair. “I thought showing up early could give us some extra time, maybe. Unless
 unless you’re still busy?” 
You shake your head. “Don’t worry, you’re fine. Just give me a few minutes and then we can start?”
“Yeah. Take all the time that you need.” 
Once again, it’s only the two of you in the lecture hall. He ponders if you’ve tutored any students before him today, hovering near you as he watches you sort through some papers and adjust your notes. The room is quiet except for the faint rustle of papers and the soft hum of the air conditioning. Jun can sense his curiosity growing within him, making him fidget with the strap of his backpack. 
“So, uh
 how long have you been a TA for Professor Lee?” 
You pick your head up from your papers, fingers resting at the edge of the desk. 
“Since the beginning of the year,” You reply. “I got recommended to him by some previous professors, and I guess I couldn’t say no to the opportunity.”
Jun nods slowly, thoughtfully. “Do you like it? Being a TA, I mean.”
You consider his question for a moment, feeling a bit reflective as you answer, “I do, actually. It’s hard but rewarding, you know? I get to help students understand the material better, and I learn a lot in the process too. It’s a good balance between teaching and learning, I would say.”
Jun takes in your words attentively, peeking his eyes toward you with an almost shy smile. There’s a quiet admiration in the way he looks at you that you don’t notice, as if he’s trying to understand how you manage to keep everything together so well. Then a moment of silence fills the space between you two, not uncomfortable, maybe a bit awkward on his end, but more contemplative.
Jun shifts this abominable weight pressing down on him from one foot to the other. He’s not used to being in situations like this𑁋alone with someone who seems so put together, so sure of themselves. It’s both inspiring and a little intimidating. The silence seems to stretch, and you can see the gears turning in his head, like he’s on the verge of saying something but can’t quite find the right words.
“I guess I wonder how you manage it all so well,” he remarks timidly. “You’re always so organised and
 on top of things. I’m curious how you do it.”
You purse your lips together into a thin line and simply shrug your shoulders. “I’ve always had high expectations for myself growing up and I guess it’s carried into everything I do now. It’s become second nature, really.” 
As Jun takes in your words, that sense of admiration seems to soften into a bit of worry. It’s amazing that you could handle so many responsibilities at once, but the more he thinks about it, the more it seems like a lot of stress and pressure to manage. He wonders if you ever feel overwhelmed or if it ever gets too much to handle at times. 
You probably do𑁋you’re human, after all𑁋and a twinge of concern snakes up his spine as he thinks about.
“Anyway, hm
 I was thinking about going over the cardiovascular system for this session. What do you say?” You ask him.
Jun snaps out of his thoughts, walking briskly over towards the desk to take a seat. “Oh, yeah. That sounds good.” 
The session is just similar to last time: you begin by outlining the cardiovascular system, breaking it down into different sections just as you did with the brain, and using relatable analogies with associating each part with their functions.
“...so the heart has four chambers: the left and right atria plus the left and right ventricles,” You explain, pointing down to the drawing you made with the tip of your pencil. “The right side deals with deoxygenated blood, while the left side handles oxygenated blood. The heart’s valves make sure that blood flows in the correct direction. Think of it like
 traffic signals.”
“Traffic signals
” Jun mutters to himself as he writes down notes. Knowing that this is all going on within his own body wraps around his mind uncomfortably.
As you continue explaining, there’s that light again that Jun detects in your eyes, as well as the subtle lift to your lips that makes your voice just a step higher. His gaze also follows your hands that you unknowingly maneuver when you talk, the movements graceful and expressive, like you’re bringing the material to life.
“Are you familiar with where all your pulse points are?” 
Jun lifts a brow, thinking for a second, before taking a finger down to his wrist. “I think so. There’s one here
 on the wrist
”
“The radial artery.”
“Radial artery. Yeah.” Then he drags the tip of his finger up to his inner elbow. “There’s also one here. The brachial artery, right?”
“You got it.” 
He grins bashfully at that, though it’s quick to fade when he focuses again, pointing down to his leg. “There’s also two here. Femoral and
 pop
 Popliteal?”
“You’re right,” You confirm wholeheartedly, and Jun’s heart flutters in small victory. 
Jun then brings his hand back up, using two fingers to point to a spot on his neck. 
“And, uh
 The one here on the neck. It’s
” He continues pressing down into his skin to find where he can feel his pulse, but your eyes on him is causing him to feel a bit self-conscious. “Uh
”
“The carotid artery. Right here.”
Before Jun has a chance to correct himself, you’re suddenly scooting closer to him in your chair, leaning in and extending an arm out towards him. The sudden contact of your fingers on the side of his neck makes his eyes widen and his breath to hitch. 
Your fingers rest gently on the side of his neck, just below his jawline, and for a brief moment, the world outside of the lecture hall seems to disappear. The visible swallow of his Adam’s apple isn’t hard to miss as he tries to focus on anything but the sensation of your hand on his neck.
Heat washes over his face, and he swears to himself that you could most definitely feel the way his pulse is running marathons under your touch. All of a sudden his tongue goes dry, his limbs go numb, and the way you’re so close to him makes it hard for him to properly think straight, let alone form any sort of coherent response.
Your eyes meet for a singular millisecond, too quick that Jun could have possibly been imagining it.
Pulling your hand away, you clear your throat soundly. “Try it.”
It takes Jun a moment to register you were talking to him, and he tentatively replaces the spot where your fingers were at with his own.
“Right here?” he asks.
“Mhm.” Your gaze roams over his concentrated face. “Apply a bit of pressure. That’s the carotid artery doing its work.” 
His pulse is certainly fast. The thought has him sinking into a pit of embarrassment. 
But he only nods, keeping his voice steady as he says, “Yeah, I feel it.”
“So whenever you want to count your heart rate, this is one of the places you can check,” You instruct. “You can just press down on that spot and count the number of beats you feel in 15 seconds. Then, multiply that number by four, and you’ll have your heart rate in beats per minute.”
Jun attempts to listen to his heart rate, but the attentive look you have on your face as you watch him makes it really hard to properly count. So he chooses to let his hand fall back down. He wouldn’t be able to calculate it with you here with him anyway. 
When the two of you meet eyes for the nth time, there’s a fleeting, almost electric moment of mutual awareness. None of you acknowledge it, yet it awkwardly lingers in the air. Warmth spreads across Jun’s chest, coupled with a nervous energy that makes his heart beat soar just a little faster.
You break the tension with an airy chuckle. “Are you ready to move on?” 
Jun blinks a few times, shaking off whatever awkwardness swirling around him, and nods quickly. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
By the time he gets back to his apartment later that evening and begins to unpack his things from his backpack, a small piece of pink paper flutters down to the floor like a feather, landing by his foot. It’s a sticky note, reading:
Good sesh today ‱ᮗ‱ Don’t forget to review!
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“There’s no way I’m touching a brain.”
“Jun, you have to! You’ll be wearing gloves anyway𑁋”
“I cannot cut into a brain. That is gross,” Jun rebukes defensively, face scrunching up with stubborn refusal. 
“Jun, dissections are really important for anatomy,” You clarify calmly. “It’s part of the learning process.”
“Yeah, I
 I know,” he mumbles defeatedly, almost shameful to admit. “I’m not that good with, uh
 dead things. Like, couldn’t we look at diagrams or pictures instead? They’re less
 squishy.” 
You smile amusedly at that, finding his squeamishness a bit endearing. But you straighten your posture and plaster on a reassuring look to your face. 
“I understand that it’s not for everyone,” You respond, a comforting tone to your voice. “But getting hands-on experience is really valuable. It’s one thing to see it in a book, but actually being able to identify the structures in real life makes a big difference in how you understand the material.”
Jun still looks apprehensive, but your words bring a sparkle of determination to his eyes. The idea of cutting into something that used to be alive still makes his stomach turn and the hairs on the back of his neck stick up, but he knows that you’re right. When are you not right?
“It just feels illegal,” Jun admits uneasily, a shudder running through him at the thought. “I don’t know if I can handle it.”
“That’s what I’m here for, remember?” You lightly nudge him in the arm with your elbow, attempting to lighten the mood. “We’re partners, after all.”
“Yeah, but
” There’s some hesitation, his gaze dropping down to his shoes. He lowers his voice as he speaks, “I want to show you that I’m capable of doing something
”
“Then we’ll start off slow, make you become familiar with everything,” You reason gently. “I know you’re not the only one who feels queasy by it, but you’ll have to face it. Facing your fears can help in conquering them, you know.” 
The corners of Jun’s lips tug up at that, mainly from the fact that you’re able to reassure him this effortlessly. He can’t tell if it’s exactly your words that eases up his nerves or if it’s simply your presence here with him right now thawing away the ice of his fears. Whatever it is, all he can really say is he likes knowing that you genuinely care.
And he likes knowing that you’re right next to him too.
“If I freak out,” he starts. “You’ll promise to help me out?”
Your lips draw into a thin line, a certain playfulness softening the features of your face. 
“No promises, but𑁋”
“Hey!”
“Study what we discussed today and then I’ll consider it.” There’s still a twinge of tease to your words, but the edges are roughened with a touch of sincerity. 
Jun just grins. How could anyone ever make up ridiculous rumours about you?
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“Good game, man. Same time again next Saturday?”
Jun huffs out a winded breath, dabbing at the sweat that clings to his forehead with the edge of his shirt before taking a long chug out of the water bottle that Wonwoo tosses over to him. 
“Yeah. I’ll see you then,” he replies exhaustedly, taking another tip of water, feeling his muscles aching from the game. 
As his friends leave the basketball court, he starts to retrieve his own belongings, slinging his backpack and hoodie over his shoulder and starting his walk towards the bus stop so he could go back home. The sun has completely set at this point, the night sky now blanketing the city in a cool, comfortable darkness. The breeze that floats through the air relieves some of the tension in his body, cooling his skin after the intense game. Jun walks slowly, taking his time on the way to the bus stop, simply savouring the peacefulness of the evening.
He considers getting food for himself𑁋there’s a small convenience store that he spots at the corner of his eye, and his stomach rumbles at the thought. 
He changes direction and heads toward the store, the faint jingling of the door chime greeting him as he steps inside. The store is a cozy, cluttered space with a mix of snacks, drinks, and other essentials. He decides on grabbing a cold drink and some instant ramen that he can heat up when he gets home. And after purchasing, he heads back outside and continues his way to the bus stop.
Tapping his bus card on the scanner, Jun makes his way toward the back of the bus and settles into a seat closest to the window, the seat right next to him vacant. The bus was mostly empty, but everyone else was spread out in their own seats either dozing off, listening to music, or staring out the window. It’s quite nice, he must say.
The sounds of him crumpling his bag fills the still air of the bus as he waits for the bus to move, but the hissing of the doors opening perks his attention up. 
Out of all things, he certainly never expected to see the sight of you breathlessly climbing onto the bus, muttering apologies towards the bus driver as you scramble for your bus card in your wallet. Your backpack is about to slip off your shoulder, cheeks flushed from assuming all the running you did to get here, and a mask of tiredness that you wear on your face that isn’t hard to notice. Were you at campus? It’s almost ten at night. 
And out of all things, he didn’t expect for you to come over to him among the many empty seats in the bus. 
“Hey,” You greet him breathlessly, glancing down at the empty seat next to him. “Are you fine with me sitting here?” 
Jun blinks, before speedily adjusting himself, forcing his body more into the seat so you would have all the room that you wanted. He gives you a nod. 
Smiling faintly, you sit down right next to him, shoulder brushing against his. You settle your backpack on your lap and lean back a bit, finally allowing yourself to relax. The bus lurches, beginning to move forward. Jun lets his eyes wash over you.
“Did
 you just come from campus?” he asks. 
You laugh awkwardly at that. “Yeah, I
 I was studying.”
“You study this late at night on campus?”
“I do.” It’s a bit funny admitting that, you don’t know why. “Sorta lost track of time, I guess.” 
Jun keeps a fixed look on you, as if there was some anomaly within your words, but he knows you’re telling the truth. He just can’t believe that anyone would stay on campus so late, plus you look way too tired, like you could pass out any second. Some worry flows down his body. 
“That sounds
 exhausting,” he says, concern edging his voice. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 
You glance at him, eyes softening slightly. There’s something about him asking that tugs at your heart. “I’m fine. It’s not unusual for me to be up late studying. I’m used to it.”
Jun feels his fingers twitch around the bag in his grasp. “I see.”
You let your head fall slightly. “Thank you though.”
He faces you curiously. “For what?”
“Just
” For being here? For asking if I’m okay? “I don’t know. Thank you.”
He doesn’t know why you’re thanking him; if anything he should be the one thanking you.
“Oh.” A small smile appears on his lips. “You’re welcome.”
He feels weird. Not in a bad sense𑁋far from that, actually. It’s basically his first time ever interacting with you that isn’t on school grounds, and in a way right now, he isn’t the student and you’re not the TA. He’s simply Jun, and you are
 well, you. You’re just two people sharing a late bus ride, and Jun is oddly grateful for the chance to see this side of you𑁋tired, a little vulnerable, but still yourself nonetheless.
The bus rumbles lightly. Silence swirling the air around the two of you. Jun glances at your profile, noticing how your eyes flutter shut for a brief second before snapping open again. His fingers twitch again, wanting to do something more𑁋maybe offer you his jacket, or ask if you need anything𑁋but he holds himself back.
The thought of pushing himself to exhaustion like that feels foreign. But he knows you well enough𑁋or at least, he’s seen you enough𑁋to know you’re driven, always working hard, sometimes too hard. He doesn’t know how to tell you that it’s okay to slow down.
“Y/N?” he calls out quietly.
You face him with a cute, sleepy look. “Hm?”
“You’re falling asleep.”
You giggle lazily at that, the sound unguarded and relaxed. “Sorry.” 
“It’s okay,” he says softly. “You can close your eyes. When’s your stop?”
Gazing at the window for a few moments, you take note of the familiar surroundings that the bus passes by. “It should be the next one.” 
Before you can settle back into the seat, Jun quickly adds, suddenly feeling brave, “You can
 lean on my shoulder if you want.”
You hesitate for a moment, then give him a drowsy, grateful smile. “I think I’d like that.”
With a sigh, you allow your head to rest against his shoulder, and Jun could only imagine how uncomfortable his own shoulder might be compared to a pillow, but he doesn’t mind, and neither do you as well𑁋at least he thinks you don’t.
Your eyes are closed when Jun leans down to sneak a glance at your face, your features softened with exhaustion. There’s the faintest sight of a smile to your lips, and it makes his own curve up slightly too. His heart stirs in his chest, all while attempting to fully compose himself so you wouldn’t be disturbed. 
As his eyes drift back outside, he leans his own head on the window, watching the cityscape pass by. There’s fatigue crawling up his body too, but he forces himself to stay awake so that he knows when your stop is approaching. He casts glimpses down to you to make sure you’re still comfortable, but every time he looks at you, his heart seems to do a little jump, a little flutter in his chest. 
Jun knows he shouldn’t hope for anything more than this moment, knows he shouldn’t let himself fall into dreams of what-ifs, but he can’t help it. Admitting to himself that he likes you is bizarre, almost too bold for him to fully accept. Yet here you are, leaning against him, breathing softly in your dazed state as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. 
And maybe, just maybe, he thinks, it could be.
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You could tell there was something off about Jun today, and it seems to bother you a little more than you expect. 
He just didn’t seem to be
 paying attention. You would explain something to him, and he’d reply with a small hum of acknowledgment before drifting off into a bit of a daydreaming state. Perhaps his mind was clouded and it wasn’t your place to ask, or maybe he was just tired. Regardless, you knew that it wouldn’t get either of you progress through this tutoring session, especially when you’re trying to instruct him about what to expect for the dissections.
“Jun?” You snap your finger in front of his face, and he immediately perks up. “You got all that down?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry, the probe
” He trails off, looking a bit lost. “Uh, can you repeat it?”
“The probe is used to explore and identify different anatomical structures,” You explain slowly. “But remember to be careful with it. Tissues are very delicate, so one wrong move could cause damage.” 
You watch quietly as he writes down the notes, his head resting on his as if he’s struggling to keep his eyes open.
“I saw you fall asleep today in class.”
Jun looks back up at you, eyes widening as if what he had done was some sort of crime. He suddenly appears more awake than ever.
“Crap, I
 I’m sorry,” he mutters in apology, face flushing with embarrassment. “I knew you were lecturing since Professor Lee wasn’t here today, but I just
 I don’t know. I couldn’t keep my eyes open that well. I’m really sorry.”
He could only assume the worst𑁋that you’re mad at him for falling asleep, when in reality he had stayed up late the night before to review over the material the two of you have covered so far during your sessions. But when your face softens into a look of understanding, he seems to relax. Just slightly. 
“Jun, it’s fine, really. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” You reassure him gently. “Trust me, you’re not in trouble and I’m not mad.”
He swallows down the lump in your throat. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Like really sure?”
“One thousand percent.”
“I’m not convinced.” A sly grin spreads across Jun’s face. What a dork.
“Unfunny,” You huff, before taking a seat right next to him and flipping through the pages in your lesson plan. 
Once again, Jun props an elbow on the table and leans his head on his hand, a playful smirk lingering on his face as he watches you. You feel his eyes on you. 
“It sort of gave me a little glimpse into your life, you know.” 
You glance up, intrigued. “Yeah? And what did you take from that?”
“That
 I really cannot and will never be on your level of studying,” Jun admits sheepishly. He seems to crawl into himself a bit more as he continues hesitantly, “and, uh, made me admire you a little bit more too.”
You freeze at that, pausing mid-flipping through a page in your planner as his words float through the air. Admire
 you? It wasn’t something you ever anticipated hearing from him𑁋ever anticipated to see him this forward𑁋especially not today when he seemed so out of it.
You clear your throat softly, trying to act nonchalant. “You admire me?”
Jun chuckles softly, the sound a little awkward as he tries to ease the tension. “Well, who wouldn’t?”
He’s probably digging himself into a bit of a hole right now, perhaps overstepping a small boundary of what was supposed to be just a casual tutoring session. But really, despite these sessions honestly really helping with understanding the material, he’s mainly here because
 well
 he gets to spend time with you. 
“Sorry, I-I mean
 I made this weird, didn’t I?” Jun swiftly corrects himself, face flushing deeper with each word that leaves him. “I guess I just want to thank you for pushing me to do better. I’ve always
 kind of admired that about you for a while now.”
Even you momentarily forget what you wanted to discuss with him for the session, a surge of warmth shooting through your body. The only sounds you could hear right now are the branches outside hitting the window from the wind and the ticking of the clock on the wall. The room was quiet, filled with an awkward, yet comfortable tension that neither of you seemed to know how to break.
“I’m glad to hear that,” You tell him. “It means a lot that you feel that way.” 
Relief and apprehension hugs around Jun, as if unsure whether he should say anything more or go back to tutoring. But he thinks he’s already said enough𑁋at this point his tired brain nearly made him confess his feelings, and that would be utterly stupid of him. 
“But you should really learn how to rest,” he suddenly says firmly.
You laugh that off way too easily. “You know that I can’t𑁋”
“I know, but
 come on, just rest for a little bit,” Jun insists. “At least for a few minutes.”
“You’re seriously telling me to rest while I’m here to tutor you?” You lift a brow, almost teasingly.
The way he only nods and gazes at you with pleading eyes almost resembling a cat stretching out for attention makes it almost impossible to resist. And you would hate to admit that yeah, maybe you do push yourself way too much, that all the strenuous effort you put into studying is now starting to take a noticeable toll on you. At the moment, rest does sound really nice.
“My friends and I are planning a hangout this weekend at my place, if you’d like to join us. You
 You don’t have to if you don’t want to, or if you’re not into that kind of stuff,” Jun informs you sheepishly. “It’s not a lot of us too, but if you ever want to just
 unwind, you know, you could stop by. We aren’t doing anything too wild, just a chill get-together. They’re all cool, I swear.”
You consider his offer. Again, you were never much of a party person nor ever gave a crap about that sort of stuff, but the thought of taking a break from your routine is a bit... enticing, to say the least.
“I’ll think about it. Thank you,” You say with a grateful smile, finally giving in. “Give me a few minutes to tidy up?”
Jun watches for a few moments as you quickly organise through your notes and gather up the loose papers that have accumulated on the table, standing up and heading to the front of the lecture hall to put away the rest of the materials that you won’t need for the session. 
As he waits for you to finish, Jun sets aside his own stuff, folds his arms and places them on the table, slowly guiding his head to rest on top. He closes his eyes, taking advantage of the opportunity to rest as much as his body craves.
By the time you get back, you catch a glimpse of Jun’s relaxed form in his seat, and your heart does a little flip in your chest. The corners of your lips tug up unknowingly into a soft smile as you settle into the seat cautiously next to him, feeling a wave of exhaustion hitting you all at once.
It’s rare that you let yourself go these days, but with Jun here, it seems easier to let your guard down, even for just a few minutes. 
Without much thought you let your head rest gently on your own arms, finding yourself staring at the front lecture hall, before ultimately, moving your head so that you were facing Jun. You’ve never seen him this close before, drawn into his features for a moment or two𑁋over his closed eyes and the small moles that pepper his cheek and one particular spot above his lips, which were curled up slightly. Contentment warms you like a blanket as you let your eyes drift to a close.
Unbeknownst to you, Jun slowly peeks his eyes open, being met with the sight of you resting so peacefully and comfortably beside him. A sense of calm takes over the vast lecture hall as he simply watches you, even feeling brave enough to lightly brush a strand of hair away from your face with his finger, before quickly pulling back when he catches your nose scrunching a little in your sleep. His heart swells even more.
He decides on settling back into his own arms, taking one last glance at you before drifting back into light sleep. 
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“You’re way too smiley to be going to a tutoring session,” Chan points out as he catches Jun about to leave. “Isn’t it like your third time alone this week? Last week you went twice
”
Jun snorts annoyedly at that. “Yeah, and?”
“We’re just saying you’re way too happy to be going to tutoring, man,” Soonyoung continues on, an edge of suspicion to his words. “Did you find out the meaning of life? Figure out why our bodies cause us to shit and piss or why the earth goes around the sun?”
“I’d be happy to answer that question if you’re curious,” Jun states wryly. 
Soonyoung scrunches his face and shakes his head. “Please don’t.” 
His roommate only observes as Jun stuffs his feet into his Converse, which looked to be at the end of its life. Minghao comes out moments later, toothbrush in his mouth with bits of foam to the corners of his lips. Along with Soonyoung and Chan, the three of them watch as Jun finishes lacing up his shoes, his good mood unwavering.
“I think I have an answer to that question,” Minghao says, voice somewhat muffled.
Soonyoung faces the younger boy. “The piss or the earth one?”
“He has a crush,” Minghao states flatly, a subtle smirk creeping onto his face despite the toothbrush still dangling from his lips.
“A crush?” Soonyoung’s eyes widen as he exchanges a glance with Chan, the two of them looking like they were about to combust any second. “A crush on that scary TA?”
“They’re not scary!” Jun protests, face reddening hearing his own loud voice, secretly hoping to make some sort of quick escape before his friends could pry any further into his dry love life, but he knows he won’t be able to get them off his ass. “So what if I have a crush on them?”
Soonyoung’s jaw drops to the floor at that, before bursting into laughter. “‘So what’? You’re totally into them!” He starts bouncing on his toes, a grin stretching across his face. “You’re in loooove with the scary TA! This is gold.”
Jun could seriously strangle all of his roommates right now. He runs a hand through his hair and glances at the door, regretting opening his mouth. Was he seriously that obvious? “You guys are blowing this way out of proportion.” 
“Bro, you’re blushing so hard right now,” Chan chimes in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Don’t even try to deny it.”
Minghao chuckles, finally pulling the toothbrush out of his mouth. “It’s obvious. You don’t study like that for just anyone.”
Jun’s face turns an even deeper shade of red. “I𑁋okay, fine! Maybe I like them a little bit, but it’s not a big deal! I’m just trying to do well in class. Now, can I leave?” 
It takes one last torturous minute of teasing before Jun shoots his roommates with annoyed looks and heads out of the apartment.
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Normally at nine o’clock, you would most likely be in the campus library studying until your eyes go dry, or in your own place with textbooks sprawled over your bed. But this time, you find yourself right in front of the address Jun sent you𑁋his address, specifically.
You’d spent the past few days thinking about his invitation, and despite some initial hesitation, you may be looking forward to this little break from your routine. Because according to Jun from a text he sent you the night before along with the address: it’s what you deserve.
Your heart still does a little jump when you think about it still.
[09:08 | y/n] Hey Jun! I’m here by the way
Your phone vibrates right away.
[09:09 | just jun] WHAT omg
[09:09 | just jun] sorry i’m coming out right now!!!
There’s a figure that emerges from a door, waving to you from above. You give out a small wave as you start to make yourself comfortable on the front steps of the building. Jun hurries down the stairs, looking both relieved and a bit flustered as he reaches you.
“Hey, I
” His eyes roam over you from head-to-toe. “I didn’t think you’d actually show up.” 
You offer a tentative smile. “Well, I figured, you know? Thought it would be nice to stop by for a little bit. Plus you live closer than I thought.”
Jun’s face brightens, the relief in his own grin oozing its way into your heart, and he gestures for you to follow him back to his place.
Just as he promised, the gathering was quite small. Jun introduces you to his roommates𑁋Minghao, Soonyoung, and Chan are their names (Soonyoung and Chan look oddly more excited to see you, for some reason)𑁋and two others in his year. You recognise Wonwoo, who is a TA from the English department, and the other is Jihoon, whose name had been tossed around quite frequently during your time in university.
Overall, the vibes have been quite laid-back, and the apartment has been warm and inviting so far.
“Do you want something to drink?” Jun asks as he leads you towards the kitchen, where some food and snacks were sprawled across the counter. “There’s water, soda, and um
 some alcohol too.”
Your eyes roam over the assortment on the counter, gaze lingering on the bottles of alcohol. For some reason the idea of relaxing and letting loose feels particularly appealing tonight, and you can hardly remember the last time you had a proper drink of
 anything. 
“I’ll take some alcohol,” You answer, suddenly feeling a bit adventurous; it even surprises Jun. 
Jun pulls one of the bottles and pours you a generous amount before handing it to you, the tips of his fingers brushing against yours as you find yourself settling down in a seat near Wonwoo and Jihoon. 
Soonyoung and Chan come into view a few minutes later, and they’re still looking at you as if you’ve come in with a second head.
“You’re not scary,” Chan claims randomly, scanning you up and down with his eyes closely.
You lift a brow and look behind you, thinking he was talking to someone, before turning back to him. 
“Me?” You point to yourself. “Scary?” 
Soonyoung takes a sip of his own drink before saying, “Yeah, dude, I mean
 There used to be a lot of rumours spread about you being like, mean and stuff, you know? I’m talking about people saying you were super strict, always serious, and that if anyone messed up in class, you’d roast them alive.”
You almost want to laugh at that. Sure, you’ve heard plenty of those rumours before and never really let it get to you, or had the time to straight up dismiss them, but you didn’t think people were still clinging onto those thoughts nowadays. 
“Did you expect me to show up with devil horns and a pitchfork?" You joke, finally allowing yourself to laugh, shaking your cup in amusement. “Wow, I didn’t realise I was so terrifying. Maybe I should start living up to it now.”
Soonyoung lets out a hearty laugh, almost choking on his drink. “Please, no! We’re all just barely surviving as it is.”
“Nah, you’re good as you are. If anything I’m glad to see that the stuff people have said aren’t true,” Chan adds in.
An exaggerated gasp leaves Soonyoung. “Oh my, God, wait! Does this mean we’re friends now?” His excitement is so over-the-top that you can’t help but laugh too. 
“I don’t know. Maybe,” You tease with a faint smirk, shrugging. “If you behave.”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Soonyoung declares, grinning ear to ear as Chan gives him an enthusiastic high five. His face is already turning the slightest bit of red from the alcohol. “Jun, you’re in good hands!”
In the kitchen, you catch Jun gazing over his shoulder and towards his friends. And when his eyes land on you, he shoots you a brief smile before quickly taking his eyes away, but the tips of his ears being red doesn’t go unnoticed when he turns away.
As the night continues, you find yourself letting loose, more than you’ve ever done recently. You find yourself easily getting along with the lively atmosphere of Jun and all of his friends. You don’t really know how many drinks you’ve taken at this point in time, how many refills you’ve been offered, but the buzz you feel is pleasant and warm, your inhibitions slowly but surely melting away. Laughter tumbles out of you as if it was the most natural thing in the world, almost to the point you feel your chest physically ache.
Occasionally, from the side, Jun quietly watches you. He can feel his own mood lifting with every smile that finds its way on your face. It’s almost as if he’s looking at a completely different person𑁋someone entirely the opposite from the studious TA he’s been used to this entire time.
But the second he sees you stumble slightly when you come out from a bathroom break, a pang of worry hits him.
“You okay?” he asks you when you nearly run into him, making him circle his arms around you out of habit in case you might fall. However, you’re somehow so close to him that he can feel the warmth of you through his clothes. Your cheeks are flushed, and you’re grinning lazily up at him, the effects of the alcohol clearly taking their toll.
“Oh, doing lovely, um
” You assure him, voice wobbly as you clear your throat. “The alcohol was awesome. I haven’t
 I haven’t drank like this in such a long time. It feels sooooo nice.” 
You nearly stumble into him again as you attempt to move past him, and he’s quick as the Flash to grab you by the shoulders, his hands squeezing tightly around your forearm. 
“I think you should sit down, Y/N.” 
“Bu-But I don’t want to!” 
A playful pout spreads across your face as he carefully leads you back to the quiet kitchen, away from whatever version of charades the others have put on in the middle of the living room.
“You’ve drank too much,” Jun points out worriedly. “Do you want me to take you home? I can walk𑁋”
“What are you? My
 my boss or something? I’m supposed to be the one in control here! I’m
 I’m the one making the decisions, not you!” You protest, a weak, half-hearted attempt at establishing your authority as you knead the fabric of his shirt into your fists. 
Did you have to be so cute when you’re drunk? Though Jun is fast to shake those thoughts away and focus more on making sure you’re okay, having to bite the bottom of his lip to conceal an incoming, endearing grin at your silly antics. 
“Come on, let me get you some water and then I’ll take you home, okay?” Jun offers, and you give him a tight-lipped smile. 
“But I am home,” You slur lowly, circling a finger in front of his face, close enough you may jab him in the eye. “I’m home here
 with you
”
Jun seriously doesn’t know how he would be able to dismiss those words that left your mouth, even in your inebriated state. It doesn’t help that you’re also looking up at him with half-lidded eyes and a dreamy smile, like the world is spinning and yet he’s the only one keeping you steady. 
“Let’s go. I’m taking you home,” Jun says as he snatches up a bottle of water and slowly coaxes you towards the door, not before announcing to his friends as well, who all seem too drunk to even care anyway.
The second the cool air meets your skin and the cold water flows down your throat, you seem a little more lucid, but not entirely. You still clung an arm around Jun’s own arm, which was hanging loosely and awkwardly to the side, your steps a bit uneven as you walk down the street together.
Jun holds his breath every time your body knocks into his side, afraid you might lose balance, but you somehow manage to stay upright𑁋barely. The warmth of your arm wrapped around his doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Hey, Y/N𑁋”
“Shhhhh,” You suddenly hiss, making Jun shut his mouth. “You’re too loud.”
Jun hangs his head down in slight guilt. “Sorry.”
“Hmm, isokay,” You mutter, tightening a grip on his and nearly causing Jun himself to stumble. “You know, you’re always so
 nice. It’s kinda weird.” 
Jun tilts his head, somewhat confused by your drunken logic. He glances at you, catching the way your cheeks are shaded with a rosy hue and the warmness to your hazy eyes. 
“Weird?” he repeats curiously.
“Yeah
” You draw out the word clumsily, shifting your eyes towards him, gaze lingering on him a little longer than usual. “It’s like you’re not real sometimes.”
“You’re holding onto me.” Jun shakes his arm, and you still carry a tight grip on his arm, fingers digging lightly into the material of his sleeve. “I think I’m very real.”
“I know,” You mumble, scrunching your nose endearingly, as if you still don't believe him. “But you barely know me.” 
There’s a few moments of contemplation that passes by between the two of you. Your steps have somehow managed to sync with each other, the streetlights above casting down a soft glow on the pavement below, and the quiet night feels oddly
 intimate. 
“Maybe.” Jun shrugs, voice low and soft. “But I like what I know so far.” 
Now it’s your turn to grow silent, a wave of realisation cutting through your inebriated thoughts. Your grip goes from loose to tight on Jun’s arm, your chest and heart feeling heavier than it did moments ago, and it certainly was not because of the alcohol.
Your mind is practically aching with all these thoughts, aching with the urge to do something about it, and the way Jun’s side profile is illuminated under the streetlight doesn’t help the situation at all.
“It’s funny, because I
 I would see you come into class. And
” You let out a giggle. “I don’t know. My first thought was always that you were cute. Hmm, maybe dreamy too? Yeah, dreamy
 That’s a silly word.” 
Before Jun can say anything to that, the words seem to tumble out of you. 
“...I’d see you fall asleep in the back of the class, or come late to lecture, and I’d think you were cute seeing you so panicked
 And when you asked me to tutor you, I was so happy. It’s just𑁋I-I don’t know.” A brief pause, before you continue, “Is this what liking someone is?” 
Jun doesn’t notice how much his steps have faltered, his voice and own words getting caught somewhere between his throat and his heart. There’s a mix of panic, disbelief, and excitement flowing through him, almost too much he can’t quite process going from emotion to the other. However, how the hell does he respond when the person he’s been developing feelings for says something like that so openly?
“Shit, I’ve
 I’ve made this weird, haven’t I?” You give yourself a light facepalm, before carding a hand through your hair. A yawn starts to leave you. “I’m just all over the place right now, I’m sorry
”
Jun wants to say something, needs to say something, but he stumbles over his words. “I
 Y/N, I𑁋”
Before he can finish his sentence, you trip slightly, and he instinctively pulls you closer, catching you with both hands. A wholehearted round of laughter tumbles out of you, resting your head on his shoulder for a brief moment, and for a split second, everything feels still. His heart races faster than ever.
He lets you take the lead on the way back to your apartment complex, feeling as if he had been walking on eggshells the entire time. The buzz of the alcohol running its laps through you has seemed to soften, and if anything, you’re more than ready to sink into your bed for the night. Although there’s comfortable quietness in the air now, Jun can’t stop replaying all the words you’ve said to him tonight alone.
Before he can fully process everything, you come to an abrupt stop just outside your building, turning to look at him.
You stare at him for a moment, eyes roaming over his face as if you’re trying to commit everything to memory. Then, without thinking, you step up to him and press a kiss to his cheek. It’s quick, fleeting, the gesture so unexpected it sends a rush of heat flooding up his neck and straight to the tips of his ears. He’s practically on fire, at this point. 
When you pull back, there’s a bashful smile playing at your lips. “Goodnight, Jun.”
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You don’t think you can ever look at Jun in the eyes without wanting to sink into the ground, because each time he comes into view, it reminds you of the absolute idiot you put on show for him last weekend. It’s harder to pay attention when your hands seem to touch every given opportunity. You just have to make it through one last tutoring session before the big dissections later that week.
“So, um, we’ll use the forceps to clamp and separate through the tissues,” Jun explains, pointing towards the dissection guide displayed on the table, still feeling a tad bit queasy at the thought of it, even if the dissection pan was empty. “Then the scalpel will be used to cut on the incision lines we marked.”
“That’s right. You got it,” You say with a small smile, briefly casting a glance towards him, watching the way he adjusts the goggles on his face. 
The two of you decided on running through the dissection for practice, focusing instead on the procedural steps and techniques. It’s been smooth-sailing so far𑁋Jun looks more confident and comfortable as he walks through each step𑁋and you’re positive that the actual lab will go well.
On the other hand, you both can’t deny the awkwardness thickening through the room, drifting within the crevices of even the most subtle interactions. 
“Alright, so once we’ve done that, we’ll
 uh, we’ll
” Jun’s voice trails off as he fumbles slightly with the scalpel, trying to decide between placing it on the tray or handing it to you, his gloved fingers brushing against yours again as you grab it from him.
“Sorry,” You both blurt out at the same time, voices mixing into one.
As you both share an embarrassed laugh, a few moments of silence follows. It seems to dissipate the tension in the air. Some of it, at least.
Jun clears his throat. “Y/N, I𑁋”
“It’s fine,” You assure calmly. “Let’s just keep going.” 
“I
 Okay.” His shoulders slump in a pit of defeat as he fixes his attention back down towards the task at hand. “Can you, uh
 pass me the probe?”
You nod and hand it over to him, trying to attentively listen as he explains the function of the tool and how it would be used for the lab, adding any feedback along the way. You’re surprised at how easily you fall back into a comfortable rhythm, as if the moments from earlier had ceased to exist, as if that night and your stupidity didn’t happen, but only you both know about the unacknowledged elephant in the room.
The rest of the practice goes by without any more mishaps. The next thing you know, you’re pulling off your gloves and taking off your safety goggles as Jun sets the dissection tray away. By the time he returns, he’s surprised to see you already grabbing your belongings like you’re ready to leave.
Jun swallows down the nervous lump lodged in his throat. “Y/N, wait.”
You pause in the middle of stuffing some notebooks inside your backpack, already feeling the apprehension snaking up your spine as you face him.
“Can
 Can we talk?” Jun asks hesitantly.
A sigh leaves you. “Look, that was really dumb of me, I get it. I shouldn’t have
 kissed you on the cheek like that and said all those weird things. It was impulsive and I was drunk. I’m sorry, I should’ve known my limits, or maybe just have not come at all𑁋”
“I was really happy that you came,” Jun interrupts, a voice almost too loud in the quiet, empty lab room. He rubs his gloved hands together nervously. “And, um, the kiss... I liked it. It was, well
 kind of nice.”
You really can’t tell if his words are making you feel any better or worse, if the hesitation on his side makes you want to sink more into the ground or feel a bit of hope. Regardless, it’s hard to ignore the warmth growing in your face as your fingers tighten around the strap of your backpack. 
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I like you too, and I wanted to finally tell you that before you left my place. But then things got a little messy and it was a bit overwhelming, so I wanted to take you home because you looked like you were about to𑁋”
“Jun, just
” You chime in ruefully, clearly not wanting to relive your stupidity. “Go back a little. You like me too?”
Jun takes in a deep, slow breath.
“Yes,” he says firmly. “Holy shit. I can’t believe I said that.” 
The laughs that leave you two sound more freeing in a way, more effortless, like the thick, heavy fog that settled around the room has been lifted, and for the first time in days, everything is more clearer. 
The carefree grin that Jun catches to your features nearly forces him to step up towards you, but he holds back. Instead, he thinks the sight of you looking so naturally happy is something he could cherish for a very, very long time.
“So, uh
” he starts, shooting a sheepish glance down at his shoes before meeting your gaze once more. “We’re okay?”
You only nod.
“We’re okay,” You confirm softly. “Maybe more than that.” 
As you finish getting ready to leave, you turn back to Jun, who nearly drops the dissection pan in his hands. 
“I have a meeting to go to right now,” You tell him. “But afterwards, I could
 text you?” 
His face brightens expectantly, attempting to keep the excitement coursing through him at bay.  “Yeah, yeah, of course. Um
 have a good meeting.” 
He’s cute. And silly. And weird. But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
Before you finally leave the lab room, you take a leap of faith and turn back around, heading straight towards Jun. He’s in the middle of taking off his goggles when you find yourself standing back in front of him, and a mischievous grin etches across your face. Jun takes a few steps back, his ass nearly stumbling into the table behind him.
“One more thing.” You reach up and to gently tug the goggles off his face, and the contact of your fingers to his hair has Jun bracing himself for doomsday. Your breath fans against his skin for a moment, and when you pull away, you’re holding up the goggles towards him. “You were wearing these upside down the entire time.”
Jun chokes on air, and you let out a giggle.
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Shit.
Jun cannot focus right now.
The goggles feel uncomfortable on his face, the gloves make his skin feel clammy, the uncomfortable, pungent smell of formaldehyde fills the lab room and his nostrils. Not to mention that there’s a goddamn sheep brain sitting on the metal pan in front of him. 
Perhaps he can call it quits now𑁋take the zero for the lab and run for the hills, drop out of university, become a nomad in the countryside and never have to touch any sort of assignment again. In his mind right before the dissection starts, it really doesn’t seem like a bad idea. Not a bad idea at all

“Jun?”
He snaps his eyes back at you. You’re wearing your own pair of gloves and goggles, positioning the dissection tools on the table, eyebrows raised in worry. 
“Are you good? We’re about to start,” You tell him. “You look a little pale.”
He blinks a few times, trying to compose and mentally ready himself, acting like he hasn’t just spent the last few minutes imagining an escape plan abandoning all forms of education. “Yeah, I
 I’m good.”
“You good to start?” You ask, and the concern he senses in your voice makes his heart soften. “Or do you want me to take over first?’ 
There’s that offer again, the one he knows he should probably accept for the sake of his sanity, but there’s also a part of him that doesn’t want to back out now. Not when he’s finally managed to clear the air between the two of you, when things are more comfortable than they’ve been in weeks. 
Jun exhales, shaking the tenseness out of his body. This is it. Glancing around the room, he notices that other students have already started their dissections with ease. He looks down at the sheep brain again, feeling that queasiness rising, but just your presence right next to him seems to settle down his nerves way more than it should.
He steels himself, trying to cling to that feeling instead of the growing discomfort in his stomach. He can do this. It’s just a brain. A sheep brain, he reminds himself, as if that makes it any better.
Letting out one last breath for good measure, he reaches for the scalpel. 
“I’m good,” he says, more to himself than to you. “Let’s do this.” 
His hand quivers as he leans in towards the sheep brain, its colour slightly pinkish and grey. His nose crinkles the closer he gets to it, and the second he lightly grazes the scalpel along the surface of the brain, he can’t help but wince. At his side, he feels your shoulder make contact with his, and helps ground him a little more. 
Narrowing his eyes, he focuses on making a precise incision straight down the middle of the brain𑁋the medial longitudinal fissure, he recalls𑁋his hand trembling slightly as he draws the scalpel down. The smell of formaldehyde grows stronger as he slices through the tissue, and the somewhat gelatinous texture that the brain has is incredibly off-putting. 
When he finally finishes, you help part the brain in half, and Jun’s eyes widen in awe at how visible the structures are. 
“You did pretty well.” You send an encouraging smile Jun’s way, taking the probe in your hand and motioning towards the exposed structures. “See? Look at that. You can see all the parts clearly.”
Jun takes a leap of faith and points to a particular part. “That’s
 the thalamus there, right? And the hypothalamus is right below it.” 
You nod proudly. “You got it. And this section right here?”
“The
 pons? And then, uh
 Oh! The medulla oblongata. Then the spinal cord starts beneath it.”
“Yep. Here?”
“The cerebellum!” 
Your own heart seems to swell with every step up his confidence goes, whatever discomfort he was initially feeling begins to be melted away under the warmth of your praise. You bring your eyes up from the brain, letting it roam over his side profile, taking in the way the goggles make his hair stick out in odd angles, the curve of his jaw as he tilts his head slightly, brows furrowed in concentration.
As Jun pinpoints another structure on the brain, he faces toward you for confirmation, only to be met with your eyes already on him. He opens his mouth to say something, before slowly shutting it, and for a split second, he forgets about the question he was about to ask, the lab, everything else.
“Did I get it right?” Jun questions, feeling the confidence flowing through him falter under your thoughtful expression. “This is the sulcus? And the gyrus
”
You lower your attention back down to the sheep brain, realising he was pointing to a spot with the probe. 
“Hm, just
” You start, leaning in a bit closer to examine where he’s pointing to. With a sly smirk, you reach over to grasp his wrist lightly, slowly guiding his hand more accurately with the probe. Your warmth slips teasingly under his skin. “The sulcus is the little groove right here, and the gyrus is the ridge surrounding it. See it?”
Jun swears you’re doing this on purpose, and whatever it is, it’s working.
“Got it,” he mumbles, hoping you won’t be able to see the flush to his cheeks under the goggles. His eyes flicker between the brain and your face, noting the playful glint in your pupils that certainly isn’t from the fluorescent lighting of the lab room. “I see it now. Thanks.”
You let go of his wrist, still wearing that mischievous look at your lips, though it fades into something more genuine now. “You’re doing good, you know.”
Relief hits him from your words. He does feel way more comfortable, the entire lab becoming less daunting all because you were simply right here next to him. His mind momentarily flashes back to all what you’ve done for him𑁋from the tutoring, to the way you’ve been nothing but supportive and patient with him, before it all circles back to the mutual fondness blooming its way within the crevices of your hearts together.
He likes you, and you like him back. Jun still has no idea how this came to be, because he used to think he had no such chance with you. Yet now, he has the freedom to think about where he wants to take you on your first date.
The rest of the dissection goes by with ease. Slowly but surely, other students begin to clean up their workspace and submit their lab reports to Professor Lee, their tasks winding down as the lab session comes to a close. The lab starts to empty out as the minutes tick by, and it isn’t long until there’s just a few more students left𑁋you and Jun included.
“Here, I’ll finish up here,” You tell him, taking the brain into your hands without hesitation and placing it into a sealed bag for disposal later on. Then you take the dissection tools into your hands and walk off towards the sink to wash them, leaving Jun hanging in a bit of a daze. 
“I
 What can I do then?” he asks, wanting to contribute still.
You turn back to him, humming in contemplation. 
“Let’s see
 Disinfect the table, take off your gloves and goggles, and then
” Your lips quirk up again. “Just stand there and look cute. I’ll handle the rest.” 
The tips of his ears flush with heat as you casually sidle away from him and towards the sink. Jun shakes away the flutters in his stomach, though the corners of his lips tugs upwards as he works on cleaning up the table. 
Jun is already waiting by the door with his backpack on his shoulders as you finish up some tasks with Professor Lee. Once you get the signal that you’re free to leave, Jun feels the excitement pool down to his feet, a sense of accomplishment knowing that he was able to get through the one lab he dreaded most, and finished the class with a passing grade.
As you both exit the building, Jun pauses in his place, watching you continue to walk a bit without him.
“I owe you a date, you know,” he calls out to you with determination, though a pinch of nervousness still lingers.
You turn back to him curiously, and the way the sun catches on your face makes you appear more radiant above anything else. “A date, you say?” 
“Yeah, I
” He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. “Before all of this, I told you I would owe you something for helping me, and well
” He lets his shoulder relax. “I want to take you on a date.” 
Jun watches the way a bunch of emotions seem to morph among your face. Even with knowing how you feel for him, he still braces himself for a different kind of response. 
Biting at the bottom of your lip, you step back up to him, and before he could fully process what’s happening, you answer him with a quick, affectionate kiss to his cheek. Right at the corner of his lips, to be specific. Then you reach down and grip his wrist, tugging him gently towards you.
“You’re on,” You challenge, a playful sparkle to your eyes. “Let’s get going.”
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love-anddeepression · 11 months ago
Text
Magic
Moon Boys x reader&lt;3
summary: you were married to Jake and after the events of moonknight, the boys get to know of jake and of you. Steven adores you but Marc just sees you as a friend. Right?
A/N: okay the timeline is a bit wonky but here's what i thought while writing the fic. Jake dated you for a year and a half before putting a ring on it. And you've been married for three years. You met Steven and Marc a year ago and have been dating Steven for eight months. Marc became friends with you a month after meeting you. please comment and reblog if you liked it!
Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort
@jake-g-lockley
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Marc was a lot of things. Pig-headed, stubborn, horrible at communication, a fighter. But he wasn't arrogant He could admit it when he didn't know something.
But right now he knew one thing and one thing only, that Jake was a prime idiot.
Marc stayed in the background when Jake was fronting around you, most of the time. Not always, of course. He wasn't a perv and one to to intrude between a husband and a wife. But he knew you. So did Steven, and you knew them.
He'd considered you his friend. Maybe one of his best, just months after meeting you. You and him shared many a night after Jake's missions talking and watching movies, when your husband was knocked out. You made him fall in love with chai, something that knocked Steven's socks off and he'd taught you the basics of baseball so you weren't clueless when you watched baseball with him.
It wasn't always so nice.
"You're married?!"
"Yeah, what's your problem with that?" Jake had become defensive, he wouldn't let Marc or Steven breathe a single ill word towards you.
"No, it's no problem at all, pal." Marc seethed, outraged, "except for the fact that I was married to Layla! God what if she almost say you when we were married? No wonder it ended!"
"Fuck off, man. You know full well why your marriage didn't work out with Layla. And unlike her, I told my lady fucking everything. She knows everything, from the cave to the sarcophagus. So she knew what to do and what to be careful of, including you. So don't blame my marriage for the reason yours didn't work out."
This was when Steven had interjected, he was unsurprisingly on Jake's side.
"He's right, Marc. If his wife knows everything then you can't blame him, and it's honestly rather mean and unfair of you to be angry at someone you haven't even met."
It took a few hours for Marc to calm down, and actually, apologise to Jake.
Hesitantly, Jake offered, "Y'know, if you want you can meet her. She practically knows everything about you and uh, Steven's most probably seen her around. She goes to the museum every week."
"Wait a minute! That lady with the Van Gogh tote bag?"
"Yup."
"Oh wow! She's really sweet, and beautiful! Hell, mate. You scored."
Jake had to smile at that, he knew he scored with you. For the longest time he felt like you were too good for him and that someone as kind, clever, intelligent and beautiful as you shouldn't have had to settle for someone like him. But you'd kiss away every ill thought he had about himself and reassure him. Communication was a very, very vital and important part of the relationship and you had helped him learn that it wasn't selfish to voice his thoughts. Especially because he put everyone's needs before his for so long.
"I know, man."
Steven had readily agreed to front and meet you, and Marc was okay with being co-conscious during the interaction as well. So on one fine day, Jake had brought them to the house he considered his home. He worked to contribute to it's rent, and buy things for it and for you. It was home, after all. You were his home.
Marc didn't know what to expect but when Jake had stepped in and hung his jacket on the stand and taken his shoes off, footsteps could be heard running from the main bedroom and he saw you running straight into Jake's arms. Jake laughed wildly, picking you up and twirling you around, much to your delight as you kissed the life out of him.
When he put you down, he could get a clear glimpse of you. Your hair was messy and your t-shirt was rumpled. And when he saw you smile he knew why Jake had fallen in love with you. Why Steven thought you were beautiful and sweet. Verything about you screamed, home.
Your greeting to Jake threw both the boys off, "Who the fuck are you?"
Jake smirked, "The fuck you mean, ma?"
"I mean, who." you poked him once, "are." twice, "you?" thrice and Jake started giggling. Fucking giggling like some little schoolgirl. You laughed too, and hugged him tight.
"Hey, baby." he kissed your forehead and you smiled.
"Hi." you kissed his nose.
"I have two guys who'd like to meet you."he raised his eyebrows.
Your jaw dropped a little, "For real? Wait, you're being serious, you're not screwing with me?"
"Why would I screw with you, when I could just screw you?"
The men in his head and you all let out a simultaneous groan.
Steven met you first, and it went swell, you'd both bonded over history and literature. And a love for Taylor Swift. But that was a secret. You liked him a lot and he positively adored you.
Marc, on the other hand, was much more closed off, he'd be polite, but he'd be curt as well. A combination you didn't know was possible.
After a few weeks of trying to bond with him, resulting in almost a small meltdown. It had taken Jake being knocked out after a mission and being too tired to eat to actually get him to talk to you over a meal.
It was one of the best things he'd eaten in his goddamn life and the groan he'd let out after the first bite brought a laugh out of you.
So yes, Marc would consider you one of his best friends. Steven and you had started going out with each other a few months ago and it was going so well.
But not Marc.
Because he didn't like you like that.
Of course not, you were his friend.
You were his friend who made him laugh because you had the same dark sense of humour. You hugged him when he needed one but was too uptight to ask you. You, who googled the Cubs and learnt everything you could about them just so you could talk to him as well, the way you talked to Steven about Jane Austen and the Indus Valley.
He didn't know when it became something more to him.
And he didn't see how you'd look him at him when he laughed, or when he was focused on the TV, or when he made you tea the way you liked it, Jake had taught him how to do that.
No, to him, you were just his best friend.
And you were currently crying your eyes out because Jake and you had gotten into a huge fight. He'd missed your anniversary because of a mission and he was working with Hathor's avatar. He failed to mention the part where he was forced to pretend they were a thing to prevent being caught and you'd caught him smelling of her perfume and gotten rightfully furious.
Not because of her, but because he didn't tell you that it had been happening for a few days. That the week he'd spent away from you, he'd had to pretend he was someone else's and he was too scared to tell you. That's why you were mad, because you thought he didn't trust you.
You'd raised your voice as he turned his back on you and he turned around, face contorted in rage. Steven tried calming him down as he stalked over to you. You stood your ground, Jake would never lay a hand on you. You knew that. But it was what he said, that broke you.
"You're being a fucking nuisance. Instead of trying to understand, you're being more of a burden by finding shit to get mad at. Grow the fuck up."
That prime ass had the audacity to call you a burden. A nuisance.
And then he had the fucking nerve to leave and complete his mission and give control to Marc. Steven had chewed the fuck out of him and Marc would have loved to as well, but he needed to see you. See if you were okay.
As soon as he stepped in, he saw you on the sofa, rapidly wiping your tears away. You sagged again when you knew it was him. Somehow you always knew.
He furrowed his eyebrows at your disheveled state. Your eyes were swollen and wet with tears and you were breathing very heavily and in quick spurts.
"What do you need?" Marc asked you, sitting down beside you.
"C-can I have" you coughed, "a hug, Marc?" you said in a small voice, looking away.
Marc immediately moved to hug you close. Shushing you when you began to cry again.
What hurt was that he knew, and Jake knew, and Steven knew that you hated being a burden or an inconvenience to anyone. And today, the one man you trusted the most in this world had made you feel like that. And he couldn't even apologize.
'Jake you fucking idiot.' he rocked you a little, 'you better come out and fix this. she may be our friend but this is because of you, fix this.'
Jake remained silent in the reflection of the mirror next to the door. He looked wrecked at seeing you sob, and tears were falling down his own eyes.
'Mate.' Steven spoke up, he sounded mad, 'You made our girl cry. Stop being a fucking coward and fix this!'
When he was met with silence, Steven seethed, 'Marc, gimme the body.'
You knew exactly when it was Steven hugging you, and you kissed his cheek and breathed him in.
"Oh, love." he tried to comfort you, "I'm sorry. You're not a burden, I promise you." he kissed your forehead.
"I know that, Steven. I know I'm not a burden to you. I'm scared I'm becoming one to him. He doesn't even want to look at me!" you sniffed.
Steven glared at Jake in the mirror, who was wiping away his own tears.
Steven and Marc knew why Jake was so worked up. They knew that whoever Jake and Hathor's avatar was after called their bluff. They knew that those people had found the woman's partner and Jake was terrified for you and he couldn't even tell you because he never, ever wanted to be the reason for any feeling you had that wasn't bliss, happiness, content, or pleasure. And because he was sure he could find those assholes and beat the living shit out of them for even thinking of harming you.
But it wasn't their place to tell you, that much was apparent. Jake dug his grave, and then jumped into it. He had to crawl out of it on his own now.
"I just want to be someone he's happy to be with." you whisper and that's when Jake straightened up, heartbroken.
"Give me the body, hermano."
"All yours."
Only Jake scrunched the back of your shirts when he hugged you and you moved to hug him tightly as he whispered apologies in your ear.
"Baby, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry I made you feel like you were a burden and that I was anything but fucking delighted to be with you." he kissed your nose and then told you everything. Looking away because he was scared.
"I didn't tell you at first because I didn't want to just say that I had to pretend I was dating someone else and then fuck off for a week. I made a mistake in assuming that'd you get mad and it's because if I was in your place, I would be. But you're stronger than me, tesoro, and I failed to see that and I'm so sorry."
"Baby, I forgive you." you replied and he breathed out a sigh of relief, "But please, don't keep stuff like this in, okay? You can trust me, you know that."
He nodded fiercely and then he kissed you. Noses nudging and lips parting as he breathed you in like you were his lifeline, and he yours. He cupped your face and held you tight against him and when he pulled away you smiled at him, your eyes shining.
Steven fronted again with a little smile and you kissed him lovingly with a whispered 'i love you'. He just winked at you and kissed the back of your hand and then your forehead again before Jake took back control and carried you to the bed, kissing you deeply all the way.
----
Marc was fine, no he just needed a glass of water. He'd carefully rolled off the bed, thankful that he was at least wearing sweatpants and padded to the kitchen.
He should have known that you were a light sleeper.
"Marc." you began, your voice raspy.
He hummed in reply and held out his glass to you. You accepted it and drank your fill, giving it back to him.
After a few more moments of silence, you spoke up, "I thanked Steven for comforting me. But I didn't thank you." you cleared your throat, "Thank you, Marc." you said, sincerely, "You're one of my best friends."
Marc smiled at you. Actually smiled. And you smiled back and kept going, "And Jake and Steven know this and are okay with it so I-"
"You don't have to thank me, honey." he patted your shoulder, trying to conceal his tears as he looked away because god he was dumb. Dumb enough to realize now, that he loved you, "I'm glad I'm your friend."
To him, you were everything. You were sunrays and moonbeams and everything that he believed was magical as a boy. Everything he stopped believing in as he grew up. The first time you made him laugh and joined him he felt sure that magic existed after all, because what else could you be?
He tried walking past you but you held his hand and he froze, tears streaming down his cheeks.
You walked over to him and held his face in your hands. His eyes shut as you wipe away his tears. And he whimpered as you kissed his forehead.
"Marc. Open your eyes and look at me." you said softly.
He was terrified. That you'd seen past his mask and were going to let him down gently. Because to you, what could he be? Certainly nothing more than a friend.
"Sweetheart. Please."
When his eyes finally opened, they met yours.
"Marc. I fucking love you." you confessed and he let out a sob. Pulling you into a tight hug.
"I love you. God I love you so much, Sweetheart." he says into your hair, kissing all over your face, but not your lips.
"Can I kiss you?" you asked him, looking at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.
He nods and your hands travel to his locks and pull them lightly as you bring your lips to his own. Humming sweetly as he wraps his arm around you and licks into you.
Yes, he reasons yet again as you hold his face in your hands and smile at him, magic does exist. And it's in his arms. He loves it and so do the men in his head who cheer for him, albeit sleepily, looking at you lovingly.
And they'd never let you go.
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topgun-imagines · 4 months ago
Text
Permanent State of Oblivion
Requested: yes
Summary: Despite all the times you have tried to make your feelings for the mustached pilot obvious, he still hasn't caught on. You make things clear one night at the Hard Deck.
Word count: 3.2k
Warnings: drinking, arguments, angsty feelings.
Pairings: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader
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“I just- I don’t know what to do about him, Nat.” You were seated across from Natasha on her bed, hand in hers as she worked on your nails. One well-kept secret about Phoenix was that she was incredibly talented in nail art; a secret that you regularly capitalized on as her best friend. She often used you for practice, like she was doing right now. Silently, the pilot nodded, used to your ranting about Bradley by now. “He’s just so- so oblivious.”
Unbeknownst to Bradley, you’d had a massive crush on him for months. You had been friends with the mustached pilot for nearly three years. He was an amazing friend, and in that department, you couldn’t ask for more. The only issue that you had was that apparently, Bradley was blinder than a bat. No matter how hard you tried or how obvious you made it, Bradley never picked up on your crush on him.
Normally, you wouldn’t mind that your feelings remained a secret, however; your feelings had reached the point where you knew they weren’t going away anytime soon. The only option left was to try and tell Bradley how you felt.
Painting one of the roses on your nails, Nat weighed in on the situation. “He’s an idiot.” Her choice of words had you stifling a giggle, receiving a playful glare when your hand twitched. You murmured an apology as she continued. “The only way he’s gonna realize how you feel is if you’re straightforward about it.”
A groan bubbled out of your chest. You hated confrontation. Surely if Bradley was smart enough to be in the top one percent of all naval aviators, he was smart enough to realize your feelings for him. Right?
“I know, I know,” You started, “I just wish he could open his eyes for once.”
“Maybe if he shut his mouth for once his eyes would have some room to work,” Phoenix muttered, knowing exactly how stubborn the pilot was. The two of you descended into giggles as Natasha finished off your nails.
Before you knew it, the two of you were in your car, blasting music as you drove to the hard deck. Jake had organized a night out for the group, and the two of you certainly weren’t ones to pass on a fun night out with friends. As Natasha hadn’t hesitated to point out, maybe you would finally get the chance to tell Bradley how you felt.
You pulled into the parking lot and parked beside Jake’s truck. The two of you hopped out and headed into the bar, already plotting what interesting drink orders you could try and get Penny to make this time. The second you stepped into the bar, you were greeted loudly by the group of aviators. With large smiles, you and Phoenix joined the group and were quickly pulled into whatever idiotic story Jake was telling. Unsurprisingly, your eyes quickly found Bradley.
Phoenix pretended that she couldn’t see how your stare lingered on your coworker. While you knew that Phoenix knew, you were oblivious to the fact that Jake and Bob had also figured out your little secret. Natasha forbade them from saying anything or trying to persuade Bradley into doing anything stupid. God only knows that if they told that fool to make a move on you he’d find some way to mess it up.
As Jake rambled on about some hilarious incident from his recent vacation back in Texas, you couldn’t help but imagine what would happen if you told Bradley the truth. Honestly, you were tired of wasting time. You didn’t want to miss out on anything anymore. Even if Bradley didn’t feel the same, you needed to know. At least then you would be able to move on knowing that nothing could ever happen between the two of you.
Natasha’s elbow in your side pulled you out of your depressing thoughts. She fixed you with a knowing look, leaning over to whisper in your ear as the rest of the group dispersed at the end of Jake's story. “Tell him,” she urged you quietly. “We both know that he’ll never figure it out on his own.” And with that, you mustered up all the courage that you could before disappearing into the crowd to find Bradley.
Suddenly, Bob and Jake popped up over Natasha’s shoulder. “Twenty bucks says the dumbass still finds a way to screw it up.” Bob and Natasha hummed in agreement.
By the bar top, you were just about to call out to Penny to ask where Bradley was when you spotted it; a brightly coloured Hawaiian shirt and a pornstache that could put all the rest to shame. It took a couple of minutes of maneuvering through the intoxicated crowd, but eventually, you were standing right behind him. At the soft tap on his shoulder, Bradley spun quickly, surprised to find you standing there.
“Hey Bradshaw,” you started, “There’s something I need to talk to you about.” He nodded for you to continue. “I just wanted to tell you that-” Before you could finish your sentence, you were interrupted by some blonde winding her arms around his shoulders and peppering kisses up the side of his neck. Your words died in your throat as you started at the scene in front of you. Bradley didn’t even try to push her off. You felt sick to your stomach.
Noticing the tears welling in your eyes, the blonde smirked. “Sorry, did I interrupt something?” She sounded innocent, as if she didn’t know exactly what she was doing by trailing her finger across his chest and sucking a mark into the skin of his neck. You could only shake your head, feeling bile rise in your throat. The room suddenly seemed hot; you were desperate to find a way out of there. Before you knew it, you were shoving your way through the crowd and out the door of the bar.
With the blonde still clinging to his side, Bradley looked around the room in confusion. He met Natasha’s stern gaze and instantly knew that he had screwed it up somehow. Bradley huffed and pushed the blonde off of him, rolling his eyes at the scoff she let out. Then he was following after you, leaving the chaos of the bar behind him as he chased you into the parking lot. “Hey!” He called out, hand grasping your wrist. “What the hell is your problem?”
You jerked your wrist out of his hand and spun to face him angrily. Your face was hot with anger and Bradley could have sworn he saw steam coming from your ears. Despite all this, he could see tears welling in your eyes. “My problem?” You seethed, stepping dangerously close to him and jabbing a finger into his chest. “My problem, Bradshaw, is that you’re ignorant enough to let that- that slut hang off your arm without a care in the world!”
It killed you to see him standing there with her, but what was worse than all of that, was the fact that he didn’t care in the slightest. It’s not like she was someone he was seeing; she was just a random face in the bar. Somehow, that made things worse to bear.
Bradley scoffed and dismissively shoved your finger away from his chest. “Why the fuck do you care?” You could only stare at him, searching for the words he wanted to hear. “That chick had nothing to do with you, and you know that so what the fuck is your problem?” He paused, his words cutting deep as you searched for a response.
Behind him, the bar door opened revealing Jake, Bob, and Natasha. They watched silently as you continued to rip into each other.
“You know what, you fucking dick?” You were close to him once more; so close that you could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You are the most ignorant, self-absorbed person I have ever met.” With each accusation, you drove your finger into his chest harder, despite his attempts at brushing it off. “You are so wrapped up in your own bullshit that you don’t even notice who you’re hurting!”
You had never spoken to him like this before. Sure, there had been little arguments here and there, but the rage that he saw in your eyes now was something new entirely. A single, angry tear dripped down your face. “You don’t think about anyone besides yourself! You certainly don’t care about them. And believe me, Bradshaw, you have made that more than obvious.”
The pilot in front of you scoffed once more, having no retort for your deep jab at his character. Of course, he cared for the people around him, and for you to suggest otherwise was, in his mind, unfathomable.
However, you didn’t stop there. “You are absolutely unbelievable! You are so oblivious it’s painful, Bradshaw. You must have your head stuck up your ass to miss every single hint I’ve been giving you for months!” You paused for a moment, waiting for Bradley to interject.
He didn’t, refusing to believe anything you said to be true. There was no way that you could have feelings for him. Was there?
He shook his head in annoyance. “You still haven’t answered my question,” he pointed out, hating how easily you were able to sidestep it. “Why the fuck do you care who I flirt with?” His voice was loud, even scaring those watching from the front steps of the bar. Bradley figured that you were probably having a bad day and had taken your anger out on him. Even though he hoped that this wasn’t the case and that you actually did care about who was flirting with him. It was wishful thinking; to imagine that you would ever see him as anything more than an annoying friend. He was sure of it.
You could only groan angrily with tears still tracking down your skin. “Jesus, Bradshaw, because I love you, you fucking idiot!” It was as if time stood still. That was what it felt like as you watched Bradley process the reality of the words that you had just shouted at him. No movement came from the pilot in front of you; the only sign of life being the rapid rise and fall of his chest.
He couldn’t believe what he’d heard. There was no way it could be true. There was no way that a kind-hearted, sweet girl like yourself could ever fall for anyone as messed up as him. To Bradley, the mere idea of you having feelings for him was unfathomable.
For months, he had watched you from afar, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. He slowly began to learn what you loved, from your favourite song to sing along to when you were drunk at 2 am to your favourite flavour of ice cream. Bradley learned what made you laugh until your stomach hurt and what made you cry until your cheeks were stained. He knew every little thing about you but he never acted on it, in fear that you would never feel the same. To know that all this time, you had feelings for him as well, was surreal.
The deafening silence grew between the two of you, moving until it encompassed the bystanders waiting in front of the bar with bated breath. Continuing to stare at the pilot, your mind was running a million miles a minute. What had you just done? Sure, the two of you were arguing, but that was no reason to bear your true feelings to the man. What if he didn’t feel the same? You were convinced that this had to be the case when he refused to move a muscle.
“Bradley,” you whispered, nerves showing through the shake in your voice. “Please, say something.” Your mind plagued you with thoughts of the worst-case scenario. You were fully expecting him to turn around and storm off, refusing to ever speak to you again. With tears filling your eyes once more, you pleaded one last time. “Bradl-”
Your eyes widened as Bradley cut you off in a way you would have never expected. In one fluid, sudden motion, Bradley had lunged toward you, his lips moulding softly with yours. His hands cradled your waist, holding you as if you were a delicate flower. You could have sworn you heard yourself squeak but honestly, you were too overwhelmed to tell.
As Bradley continued to kiss you gently, your eyes fluttered shut. You became lost in the feeling of his hand caressing your side. His pinky finger slipped under the hem of your top, drawing a light gasp from your lips. The kiss deepened as Bradley pulled you towards him by your waist and as your hand worked into his soft curls at the base of his neck.
A soft giggle slipped past your lips as that familiar pornstache that you were used to making fun of was now tickling your upper lip. The pilot smiled into the kiss at the feeling, pulling back to rest his forehead against yours lovingly mere seconds later. “Does that answer your question?” He whispered, causing more giggles to flow from your mouth. You could only nod, still starstruck by the actions of the man holding you.
For the second time this evening, you were close enough to the pilot that you were able to smell his breath. While the faint scent of alcohol was still present, you were now able to pick up the familiar scent of your strawberry lip gloss. One glance at his parted lips was enough for you to see the slight pink hue that your lip gloss caused him.
There was a lovestruck smile on his face; a stark contrast to the anger shining in his eyes merely twenty minutes ago. Admiration shone in his eyes as he looked down at you. While he knew that he never stated it clearly, he was in awe of the wonderful woman that you were. As he thought about how perfect you were, guilt for the way he spoke to you before began to eat at him.
He cleared his throat, needing to make amends for his actions. “Seriously, though,” He started, eyes softening as he recalled the events from earlier. “I’m so sorry for how I acted earlier. What I said was completely uncalled for and out of line.” The corners of your mouth twitched up in a forgiving smile as you reached up to stroke the corner of his mustache with your thumb. Bradley wrapped you up in his arms, rocking the two of you softly. “I love you so, so much, baby girl.”
Your hand trailed from his soft cheek to the back of his neck as he shifted the two of you, fingers once again threading through the short curls. Warm, ocean air breezed past the two of you as Bradley held you close. Behind you, the sun was setting beautifully over the ocean. It painted the parking lot with a soft, pink glow. No matter how many sunsets you had seen before, for some reason, this one was the most beautiful. It was almost as if the beauty of the sunset reflected your feelings for each other. Despite the rocky road that it took you to get here, no moment had ever seemed as perfect as this one.
Unsurprisingly, your moment of bliss was quickly interrupted by the other aviators waiting at the steps of the bar. Your friends gradually made their way closer, unable to contain their questions and comments any longer. You felt Bradley sigh into the skin of your neck before he kissed it softly, causing butterflies to swarm in your chest. With your head still tucked into his chest, you felt a blush begin to creep up your neck at the realization that your friends had likely watched the whole event unfold. Despite the flush in your cheeks, you still made eye contact with each of them, dreading the inevitable bombardment of questions that were bound to come.
Even as you stood in front of your friends, ready to explain the rollercoaster of a scene they just witnessed, Bradley’s arms remained wound around your waist. His thumb moved over the bare skin of your side softly, leaving goosebumps in his wake. “No need to explain.” Nat offered with a reassuring smile. She could sense that you were hesitant to have to explain it all so quickly. Plus, she knew that she would get the details soon enough.
Together, Bob, Jake, and Nat offered you their congratulations before turning to head back to the bar. With his arm still around your waist, you and Bradley follow your friends in sync with each other. Your still-rosy cheek rested against his broad shoulder.
Jake wasted no time in collecting his winnings from the previous bet, pumping his fist in the air as Bob and Nat each handed Jake a 20. In the back of your mind, you briefly wonder why they handed him the cash in the first place. Once the five of you re-entered the air-conditioned comfort of the bar, Jake turned to you and Bradley, announcing that drinks were on him with that familiar, shit-eating grin on his face. That alone should have been enough to tell you that there was more to the story than you suspected.
Despite the weariness in both yours and Bradley’s minds, if Jake was offering to buy your drinks, who were you to turn it down? Just as you were about to take a sip of your beer, Bob piped up. “He bet you’d screw it up,” He quipped, grinning at the mixture of betrayal and shock written on Jake’s face that instantly took over his previous cocky expression. Within seconds Bradley had smacked his arm. While he was slightly annoyed that Jake had bet against him, he was more upset about the fact that he allowed Jake to win.
Bob and Phoenix continued to laugh at Jake’s dejected expression as you and Bradley watched fondly. The aviator pulled you into his side with gentle movements and your head fell onto his shoulder the second you were snuggled up against him.
In a state of bliss, you allowed your eyes to slip shut. You could only savour the feeling of being held in the arms of the man you loved. Tucked into Bradley’s side, you couldn’t think of anywhere else you would rather be. Turning his head, Bradley pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, which caused a glowing smile to blossom on your face. A giggle escaped you at the feeling of his mustache tickling your skin, leading to a smile mirroring your own taking over his sculpted features.
Sure, it had been a rocky road to get here, but you would do it all over again if it meant feeling like this for a moment longer. You loved Bradley, and it brought you more relief than one could ever imagine to know that he felt the same for you.
Simply put, you were ecstatic. Ecstatic that you no longer had to keep your feelings a secret. Ecstatic that you could see a future blossoming between you and Bradley. Despite not knowing what that future held, you were positive that you and Bradley would be together for a long, long time to come.
However, one thing was for certain; Bradley Bradshaw was the most oblivious man you knew.
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a/n: Thank you for reading! Requests are open. I’m excited to be back <3
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reiderwriter · 10 months ago
Note
I’d love if you could do a very fluffy-smut with Spencer, like you had a tough case and the day after he calls asking you to go to his apartment and you see he has made food & made a fort to watch movies with fairy lights and just everything really romantic & it ending with very slow/soft sexđŸ©”
A/N: I loved writing this one! Spencer is absolutely the type to build a perfectly engineered pillow fort just because you're having a bad day 😭😭 I hope you enjoy it!!
Warnings: 18+ minors dni, soft sex, oral sex (f receiving), slow/ gentle sex, multiple orgasms, implied creampie/ no contraception mentioned :) tee hee
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There was something about the cases that took you to the other side of the country that sunk the ache into your bones just that little bit more. 
It didn't matter if you were going for a kidnapping or a serial or a spree, you always returned more weary than before. The weeks work that you endured was never as tough as returning home to your empty apartment, to the cold floor and the lonely bed. 
This time, your case had a happy ending. You weren't sure how many more of them you were going to be able to live through before the bad endings rendered them null and void. It didn't matter how many people you saved some days because your brain was crowded with the names and faces of the ones you didn't. 
The drive home from Quantico was unsurprisingly quiet. Having landed in the dead of night, there were never going to be too many people on the roads to your apartment. 
You weren't sure if it was fate, or the fact that you hadn't eaten anything in the last 18 hours that made you pull over to the side of the road to pick something up from the 24 hour drive thru, but in the end you were glad you did. 
The second you pulled your car off the road, taking a breather and deciding to stretch your legs a bit before going in to order, your phone screen lit up. 
“Spencer,” you answered the phone, “what's up?” 
“Y/N, hey, I just got home. Listen, remember last month I was talking to you about that one indie film that I couldn't find anywhere? Well, a friend of mine from college just sent me a file entitled ‘the movie.’” 
You weren't sure if it was Spencer’s enthusiasm or just the way you were always ready to drop anything to do something with him that had you giggling and nodding along. You didn't remember the discussion, let alone the movie he meant, but you liked hearing him talk about the things he was passionate about. 
“So I was thinking, we're both probably not going to get much sleep anyway since we clocked out only 23 minutes ago - movie night?” 
“You couldn't have called at a better time, Spencer. I'm grabbing food, text me your order and I'll see you in 15.”
-X-
The drive to Spencer’s apartment was clear, but the hum in the air was lighter than  the silence of before. By the time you pulled onto his street, your mood had already brightened significantly.
You trudged up to his apartment softly so as not to cause any complaints and sent him a text to let him know you were waiting outside. 
You knew instantly that he'd received and read it - the garbled sound of the large man tripping over his feet in his attempt to rush to the door were the same every time you arrived. Stubbing his toe on some pile of books or the other was practically ritual. 
“Hi,” he whispered, opening the door just a crack and giving you a bright smile. 
“Hi,” you smiled back. “I bought food.”
“Perfect. That's perfect. You're
 come on in. It's cold, right?” He guided you into the small entryway in his apartment and let you drop your keys with his as if they were supposed to be tangled together. 
“I have a little surprise.” He said, suddenly sounding bashful as he grabbed for your hand in the dark - you hadn't realised as he'd led you in but there were no lights on in the small apartment on at all, as far as you could tell. 
“What? Spencer-” 
“You'll like it, I promise, you just have to trust me.” You relaxed as he wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you with him into his living space. His hand was warm as it settled against the small on your back, and his chest was surprisingly broad and firm as you brought up your hands to steady yourself against him. 
“Okay, now close your eyes.” 
“The apartment is pitch black. Why am I closing my eyes?” You giggled a little, surprised that your whole body felt so light and calm now, when it had felt so terrible only half an hour before. 
“Trust me,” he said, and you did. Truth be told, your eyes were already shut before the words had even left his mouth. 
“Okay, you can open them now.” 
He must have flipped a light switch the second you opened your eyes because your vision was blurred by the dazzling light when you did. 
Blinking through the adjustment, you started making out shapes and couldn't stop the small tears that pricked the corners of your eyes. 
He hadn't just invited you around for a movie night - he'd built a fort. Held up by a few chairs and piles of books, he'd managed to prop up at least three layers of blanket to surround the most comfortable looking floor you'd ever seen. 
You didn't even know he owned this many pillows, but when he tugged your hand down as he began to move into the fort, you didn't need to care. 
Not with his fingers gently laced with yours and the fairy lights he'd surrounded everything with, giving his skin a golden glow. You didn't need any explanation. You just needed him to hold you. 
“Spencer this is beautiful,” you whispered, sound dampened by the lump in your throat that you tried to swallow, to no relief. “This must've taken so much time. How did you even-”
“PhD in Engineering. I don't get much use out of it these days, but it certainly comes in handy.” 
You couldn't help the laugh that burst from you, the tears finally flowing as tears of joy. 
“Spencer, what is all this for?” 
“It's just because. You looked like you had a hard day, and I enjoy spending time with you.” 
They weren't the most romantic words in the world. They probably didn't come close to some quotes he could recite as easily as breathing. But they hit you hard and fast. 
You knew you were in love with Spencer Reid long before this moment, but there was no holding back the flood after hearing the sincerity in his voice. 
You slowly stretched your neck up and pressed your lips against his. It was fleeting, a small moment that if this didn't pan out, you could brush off as a friendly show of appreciation. 
You pulled away to gauge his reaction, but you didn't get to. His hand on your neck had pulled you back to him for another slow, but deep kiss, and it was as if your entire body was on fire in those sheets. 
You weren't sure how long you spent breathing each other in, exploring each others lips softly. You just knew you were growing desperate for more. You didn't notice that you'd climbed into his lap until your eagerness knocked him onto his back, forcing you apart. 
Your chest lay atop his as you both gasped for air, legs tangled, eyes locked as both of you feared talking first. 
After almost too long without anything said or done, Spencer chose silence again, flipping your positions so you were the one on your back on the pillows as he hovered over you, lips meeting yours again. 
This time, you made the conscious decision to wrap your legs up around his waist, hand tangling in his hair as you smiled and giggled against his kisses, so obliviously happy to be there with him. 
“I love you,” you whispered between kisses, not even hesitating for a second to contemplate whether he felt the same. 
“I love you more,” he said as if it were a competition where you both won in the end. 
You became more talkative after that, responding to every touch, every kiss with praise and a confession, a moan as his fingers pushed under your shirt, a shaky breath as they unbuttoned your pants. 
“Fuck, Spencer, please touch me more,” you begged as his hand toyed with your nipple, having discarded your shirt and bra quickly after receiving permission to do so. 
“I will. I want to know all of you,” his voice was strong even in a whisper, as he dropped his head to your other nipple to begin suckling and teasing you. 
You always thought his hair would be soft, had been tempted on multiple occasions to tuck a strand behind his ear, or just run a hand through it, and now you held it firm, pushing him further into your chest as you arched into his mouth. 
“I want to feel m-more of you, Spencer.” 
He raised his gaze to you as he let go of your nipple with a pop and quietly complied with your will. Trailing his head lower, he kissed across the expanse of your stomach, biting and sucking here and there to leave a path of markings in his wake before arriving right where he wanted to be. 
He made quick work of your pants and panties both, surprised that a man who never failed to bump into things in his own living space could be so graceful when it came to divesting you of your clothing. 
You couldn't ponder for too long as he dived between your legs, spreading you open like a book he needed to read and memorise. His to guess hit your clit quickly, and a few twitches and moans here and there showed him how you liked it, where you needed him and his tongue. 
You again got to grasp his hair  pulling him further into your wet cunt as you chased your high, needing so desperately to ride out an orgasm against his face. 
When his two fingers stretched you open, you practically drowned him, thighs clamping shut as your brain emptied itself of stress. 
You calmed down and watched him come up for air, fingers still slowly and gently pumping inside of you, reminding you that this wasn't over. 
“You taste sweet.” 
“I know how much you like sweet things.” Your juices glistened on his lips and chin, a few drops running down his neck as you stared at him with pure desperation in your eyes. 
“Spencer, please, fuck-” his fingers picked up speed every time you tried again.
“Spencer, fuck me, please  just fuc-”
“As you wish, Y/N.” 
He didn't bother removing his own clothing, though you desperately wanted to see his entire length and explore him just as he had with you. 
But after cumming on his face already, you decided you'd let him go with whatever he wanted. 
Shifting up behind you as you laid there, he gently rolled your body onto its side as he pulled your back towards him, giving him better access to your cunt as you arched into him again. 
He sank in slowly, almost as if he was scared to break you, but didn't stop until he was almost fully inside of you, practically sheathed. 
He adjusted his hold on you, wrapping both arms around your waist and pulling your back flush against his chest as he pressed open-mouthed kisses against your neck.
With deep, slow strokes, he made love to you. You weren't sure if it was the fairy lights, or if it was just that good, but you saw stars, saw them burnt into your eyes, watched them every time the pleasure felt too good and your eyes rolled back into your head. 
The second orgasm came slower than the first, but it was just as hot. 
“Y/N, look at me - you're so beautiful, I want to watch you cum.”
“Spencer, love- I love you, I love you, fuck, oh my god, I love you so much.” You reached for his lips but he pressed his forehead against yours as he whispered in your ear a final time: “cum for me now.” 
Your body wasn't one for taking your queues, but it responded to him as if he'd been the missing part you'd missed this entire time. 
Your cunt tightened around him, milking his cock as he moaned and released seconds after you did. 
You lay tangled in those blankets and pillows for hours after, and you weren't afraid or lonely anymore. 
962 notes · View notes
ectologia · 6 months ago
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Tomura Shigaraki is definitely a disgusting and depraved perv when it comes to kinks and fetishes, it's a known fact. I wanna know your ideas for all the fucked up things he's into, illegal or not ^^
KINKS & FETISHES
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TOMURA SHIGARAKI EDITION
CONTENT ♱ IN ALPHABETICAL ORDER, THIS IS EXTREMELY MATURE CONTENT WITH A PLETHORA OF KINKS AND FETISHES (INCLUDING NONCON), COMMON OR NOT, READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!
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ACAROPHILIA (AROUSAL FROM SCRATCHING)
Tomura loves the scratchies, we all know that. Whether he’s sad, anxious, frustrated or horny, you can always catch those blunt fingernails digging at his flesh like a dog in a flower patch. And, unsurprisingly, yours too. He likes the way you shudder as he claws down your skin, catching your nipples as he tears down your tits before watching the thin white lines raise into nasty looking red gashes. He’ll even drag his tongue over them to feel the bumps as he wanks.
ANAL TRAINING
Tomura is a disgusting and malicious man, so it should come as no surprise that one of his favourite past times is to see how wide he can stretch your ass open. He’ll make it into a game, timing you, finding different objects (safe or not) to squeeze up your butt, promising you treats and rewards if you can take having your sphincter stretched another 5 centimetres. And if you don’t think that’s a lot, trust, it is. And it’ll hurt. He’ll make sure of it.
ANONYMOUS SEX
Even evil crime bosses such as Tomura can get insecure too. On those days he’s feeling extremely low about himself, whether it be because a mission was unsuccessful or because his skin’s had a flare up and he can barely look at anyone. He’ll resort to skulking around dingy clubs and alleys. He’s not the biggest fan of glory holes, mainly because he’s scared there’ll be a dude on the other side sucking his cock. But he appreciates that he can be as weird or unattractive as he wants and still bust a fat nut into something other than his fist.
BATHROOM CONTROL
We all know Tomura is a control freak. And it just gets freakier when he starts telling you where and when you can go to the toilet. On most days, he’s tame about it. All he asks of you is that you tell him when your bladder’s full and he’ll give you permission to use his toilet. It’s only until he starts wanting to watch you shit and piss while he jerks himself off does it get a little.. worrying. He just finds it so cute when your little body does what it’s supposed to, and it’s even better when he’s the one that gets to be a bossy boots about it.
BREAST + NIPPLE TORTURE
As mentioned before, Tomura likes scratching your nipples. He’s also an avid enjoyer of slapping, pinching, twisting, stretching, biting, flicking and tickling. Really, there’s no actual explanation. He just enjoys watching you writhe in pain.
BREAST + NIPPLE WORSHIP
Equally, on the flip side. Tomura worships your tits, physically and spiritually. He finds them so beautiful, he reckons they’re his favourite part of your body. Romantic, right? He’ll kiss and hug and squish, juggling them in his palms before sucking one into his mouth while caressing the other. He’ll use them as pillows, resting his head on your chest before slipping away into a restful slumber. Probably to dream of even more titties.
CRUROPHILIA (A KINK RELATED TO LEGS)
Legs, legs, legs. Long legs, skinny legs, chubby legs, muscular legs, legs in tights, legs in thigh highs, shaved or unshaved. Tomura loves legs, he’s obsessed with them to some degree. Just the way he can do so much with them. Fold them against your chest, spread them out wide, throw them over his shoulders, or even bind them tight. He just loves legs.
BONUS
If you’re a fast runner, watch out, because Tomura will be chasing you in circles like you’re a gazelle in the savanna. He gets off to it, hardcore.
CUMSHOTS
Tomura will find any excuse to make something into a game. Give him something to aim at and he’ll be shooting semen at you like it’s an FPS. His favourite thing to spunk on is your clit, since it’s such a tiny target he feels almost accomplished when he manages to spit the creamy white liquid right on the little bud. (Before getting to lick it off)
FACE FUCKING
Who doesn’t love a nice, rough face fuck? Tomura definitely does. Tomura treats all your holes like sex toys, and your mouth is just another. He’s a hard, deep and fast fuck, using your hair like reins as he shovels his length all the way down your throat and back up again. He’s like a greyhound, once he starts he can’t stop. So what if you just threw up on his dick? He’s not done until he’s done.
FACE SITTING
Not in the way you think. He’s the one doing the sitting ‘round here darling. He’ll use it as a punishment, squatting over your face with his filthy asshole puckering and scrunching over your lips, Oh, what, you think it’s gross? Good. You better get used to the view of his hairy ass crack, baby, because you’re gonna’ be here a while.
FOOT FETISH
Perhaps the most common and well known of Shiggy’s fetishes, he’s a feet connoisseur. Manicured toes, soft soles and high heels are what he dreams of at night. Pumping his dick between a pretty girl’s smooth arches, legs bent with her steaming hot pink pussy nestled right between them? Hell yeah. He’ll alternate between worshiping your feet and having you worship his. He sucks your toes, you suck his back. It’s a 50/50 relationship.
BONUS
Though Tomura’s obsession is mainly sexual, he’ll massage your feet as an act of service purely because it’s his love language.
MACROGENITALISM
Some men like the pretty, pink pristine vulvas, the hairless ones with barely-there, tucked away labias and tiny clits you can barely get at. Some men aren’t Tomura. He wants it hairy, messy and sloppy. He wants to nestle his face between your bush and suffocate himself with the coarse hairs, he wants to gnaw and pull on your beautiful labia with his teeth and lick through every fold and crevice like he’s an explorer. He likes the women with big, gorgeous clits and fat, chunky cunts, and he won’t have anything less.
NONCON
He likes the way you scream and plead. How your guttural wails and ear piercing shrieks dull and splinter into pitiful whimpers. How your eyes mist into glassy, shiny goggles the moment he pulls the sluggish length of his manhood out and slaps it up and down on your tiny, twitchy clit. Back hunched as he places a boney finger to his lips, shushing and cooing at you as you heave through grit teeth when he splits into your folds. His big, bulbous cock head juts in and out with a slick pop as he pummels you into a shakey, traumatised little mess, pumping you full with his seed, wether you want it in your little womb or not.
PEODEIKTOPHILIA (PENIS FLASHING)
Though it sounds sinister, Tomura finds it positively hilarious. He likes to see that momentary, adorably shocked, deer-in-headlights look on your face when he drops his waistband for just a second, giving you an eyeful of his big, floppy cock and balls. Whether you’re on your own or with people, outside or inside. He’s incredibly sneaky and an all around menace. Walking past while you’re tucked into bed? He’ll wipe his clammy dick on your face along the way. Having a conversation with someone? He’ll slip his squishy pink head out of his boxers and thumb the slit with a cheeky grin. Brushing your teeth? He’ll chase you around the bathroom with his balls hanging out. Just know, he does it because he loves you. You’re his best friend.
QUIROFILIA (HAND FETISH)
Tomura likes pretty hands. Long, lithe fingers with manicured nails and soft knuckles. A stark contrast to his huge, calloused and, not to mention, destructive ones. He’ll kiss and caress the delicate appendages before demanding you wrap them around his cock, stacked atop one another as you stroke his prick up and down, foreskin clicking stickily as his balls jiggle against his thighs until he inevitably climaxes, coating your sweet fingers in the syrupy substance of his love.
SOMNOPHILIA (ENGAGING IN SEXUAL ACTIVITY WITH SOMEBODY THAT IS ASLEEP OR UNCONSCIOUS)
It can be for various reasons, the main one being you’re too tired to deal with him, so he just takes matters into his own hands. He’ll spread your pussy and eat it from the back as much as it takes until he can slip inside you nice and easy. Bouncing your unconscious self against the mattress with his dick nestled tightly inside your syrupy walls, while you stay tucked into bed all cosy and warm. See? It’s a win win situation.
WATERSPORTS
Similar to Tomura’s “bathroom control” kink, Tomura just really likes piss. Wether you’re squirting in his mouth after getting finger banged within an inch of your life, or you’re on your knees with your tongue out waiting for him to give you a hot, steamy golden shower, he really doesn’t care. As long as at least one of you are drenched in piss by the end of it.
A TOTAL OF 17 KINKS THAT I COULD THINK OF (BUT I’M SURE THERE’S MORE)
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meownotgood · 6 months ago
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would aki ever consider homewrecking your relationship? in an upstaging sort of way at least? he brings you home-cooked food, drives you often, remembers details about you that make you realise your own bf doesn't?
ooooo imagine he gets drunk and starts being slightly more assertive not caring your bf is also in the room. flat out ignores him as he monopolizes your attention <3
despite his feelings for you, aki is polite, he keeps how he feels to himself and rarely comments on your boyfriend or your relationship. he congratulates you when you first tell him, saying he'd love to meet your boyfriend sometime. he doesn't intend to show your boyfriend up. it isn't aki's fault that he remembers your birthdate when your boyfriend doesn't. it isn't aki's fault that he knows what you like more than your boyfriend does, and so he brings you small gifts and homecooked meals whenever he's available.
boyfriend or not, aki has always shown you the same kindness — you're friends, so of course he does. you're each other's closest friend, in fact.
though, when aki's had a bit too much to drink, that's when the problems start to arise.
a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts, or something or other. aki remembers his mentor telling him as such when he was a teenager. but aki isn't really the talkative type when he's drunk, nor does he tend to get anywhere past slightly tipsy when he's out drinking. normally. tonight is far from normal.
aki is drinking way more than he should, ordering beer after beer until he has an array of empty frothy glasses around him, because tonight, you've brought your boyfriend along. the division's non-specific party had no problem with inviting friends of friends or significant others. but your boyfriend is sitting next to you, when it's usually aki that sits by your side.
he has his arm wrapped lazily around you, your shoulders are stiff as you sip your drink, drowning out the noise of him shouting across the table. he's waving over the waitress, and aki's jaw is clenching so hard it almost hurts, because as your boyfriend is complimenting the waitress' outfit with less-than-appropriate choices of words, his palm is on your thigh, you're shrinking into your seat — and aki is done.
he pushes up from the table so fast it shakes, making glasses clink together, and causing your gaze to dart up to him. unsurprisingly, you follow after him a few moments later. you step outside, goosebumps immediately brushing over your bare arms, to see aki palming a cigarette between clumsy fingers. his brows are knotted with tell-tale annoyance, but when he finishes shoving his lighter back in his pocket, and exhales a puff of grey smoke into the night sky, his voice as he speaks to you is nothing but soft.
"sit next to me when we go back inside," he says, plain and simple. the nicotine settles his growing nerves, and the slight husky slur to his words is the only thing giving his intoxication away.
you hardly have time to think about what he's asking of you — asking, was that even a question? aki takes one more quick drag, before dropping the half-burned cigarette on the pavement, stamping it out with his shoe. you're managing an, are you alright? but it only goes unanswered. aki grasps your wrist, and he starts to tug you back inside.
the atmosphere is much different once you've sat back down; at aki's side, this time. the lack of space has your thighs lightly touching aki's as you shift to get comfortable. yet, it feels like you can finally, truly relax.
aki orders another full beer before your boyfriend even notices your absence — with an annoyed look on his face, he doesn't question why you've moved, just drunkenly rambles about your disrespect for a moment, before turning his attention back towards the people beside him. aki though, he keeps his focus solely on you. he leans close to whisper quiet words into your ear. he doesn't seem to care that your boyfriend is right there, still sitting directly across from you. aki keeps you to himself, and himself alone.
for a moment, your gaze drifts up. aki's adam's apple bobs and his head tips back as he downs the rest of his drink, his face flushed slightly. he turns towards you then, eyes lingering on you for longer than necessary. he gazes at you with such a sense of softness, a look you can't remember anyone else ever giving you.
that's right. it was aki who invited you out tonight, who saved you your favorite seat knowing you would want to sit there, only for your boyfriend to drag you to the opposite end of the table. it was aki who already had your drink of choice ordered for you by the time you arrived. it was aki who leant across the table, trying to ask you how you're doing and how you're liking your new job, while your boyfriend who's never bothered to inquire was busy taking shots with the group a table over.
sighing to yourself, your mind spinning from the alcohol in your system, you let your head lean on aki's shoulder. aki hesitates. then, he snakes a palm behind you to hold the small of your back. when your boyfriend stumbles up from the table to head off somewhere, aki makes sure he sees.
he calls your boyfriend over for a moment to discuss something he already knows, some paperwork he has to fill out tomorrow for the division — aki keeps his arm locked around your waist, your head is leant on his shoulder, and as your boyfriend leaves, you don't even give him so much as a glance. aki keeps the obvious grimace your wasted boyfriend had on his face to himself.
"I'm sorry," aki mumbles after a few minutes, rubbing your back with his palm in slow circles. you chuckle, replying with a half-hearted, what for?
"I'm sorry for getting so drunk," he explains, "but your boyfriend was being an asshole. it pissed me off. I don't get why he acts like that, I could-"
aki swallows, stopping himself, stifling the words he almost said. I could treat you so much better.
sighing, he rubs his knotted temple with his fingers, and he turns to you as you're propping up next to him.
"don't apologize." you stretch, bringing your arms above your head, then rolling your shoulders back. your heart patters in your chest. aki is so close; you can see all the details of his face, you can smell the hints of cologne clinging to his jacket. his arm around you feels like it belongs there. "shouldn't have had so much to drink too."
"I'll take you home," aki says in response. "we should leave soon. the trains won't run for much longer."
you hum, eyes fluttering, gazing up at him with a look that causes his breath to get caught in his weary lungs. "can I come with you back to your place, aki?"
your boyfriend wouldn't like it. aki imagines how he'd react once he came to. if he'd call you, the phone ringing thrice before you pick up, only for him to hear aki's voice on the other line. there's grumbling, the sound of sheets rustling, and then aki murmuring supposedly in your ear, telling you to go back to sleep.
perhaps that's exactly why aki leans in closer to you, close enough to have his breath fan over your cheek, and inevitably answers with a warm, earnest, of course.
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evanpeterswhoresblog · 7 months ago
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BBYG PART TWO OF GUILTY AS SIN PLEASE I LUV UR WORKSSSS
i hope you guys enjoy this!! i had a lot of fun with it. it’s technically part two but i gave it a different title sorry :)
~~~
Fresh Out The Slammer
James Potter x f!reader
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warnings: smut, protected p in v, fingering, slight oral (f receiving), very slight underage alcohol but barely, morally idk how good this is, lmk if i missed any
summary: after you and Remus finally split, you and James finally come together

word count: 2.8k
a/n: another taylor fanfic hahaha (i love this) lmk what you guys think of the end i thought it was really clever but maybe that’s just me being overconfident

part one is here!!
~~~
I did my time
Now pretty baby I’m running back home to you
Fresh out the slammer
I know who my first call will be to...
~~~
When you look back on your days at Hogwarts, you always wonder why you and Remus stayed together so long.
It was a week after your monumental conversation with James on the grass that your overdue breakup occurred. You had tried your hardest to give your relationship one last try, you really did. But one night as you laid next to the tall lanky boy, all you could think about was a certain pair of hazel eyes. A pair that didn’t belong to the boy next to you.
That was the final straw.
“Rem,” you said, your voice cool. “I think it’s best we break up.”
You kept your eyes on the canopy above, but you could feel him shift beside you. “Really?”
“Yes. In fact, I think this is overdue. Don’t you think?”
“I suppose so...” he replied.
You turned to look at him. Unsurprisingly, he was sitting calmly as could be with a book in one of his hands. A sigh escaped your lips, but you didn’t say anything else. Instead, you simply stood and began to dress yourself. He was the one to speak again.
“Would it be all right if we remained friends?” He asked his eyes on you for what felt like the first time in a while.
“Of course. Let’s not make it odd for everyone else,” you answered.
He looked back down at his book. “Right. Good night then.”
On the walk back to your dorm you named every reason in your head why you broke up with Remus. He was distant. He didn’t know how to treat you like a true girlfriend. The spark had died between the two of you. The relationship had truly just run its course. But as you stepped into the common room your eyes found the most significant reason.
You refused to put him on your mental list.
~~~
You didn’t know if it was out of respect for Remus or if it was intentional at all, but James waited a few weeks before making any sort of move on you. You were glad. Adjusting to a single life was strange. You no longer spent time alone with Remus, you no longer cried or had fits because of his behavior. He was simply another one of your friends. You liked him better that way.
When James did give you a sign, it was far from subtle.
It came during Charms in the form of a small piece of paper. Of course, Charms happened to be the only class the two of you had together that Remus was not in as well. In fact, the only other member of your friend group who was in the class was Peter and he never paid much attention to anything. So, when you felt the piece of paper hit your lap, you didn’t hesitate to open it.
How’s the single life treating you so far? -J
You turned your head to look at James, a smile on your lips. He was already looking at you, a similar smile on his face. You felt your cheeks heat up as you scribbled your reply and threw it back to him.
It’s better than I expected, most things are the same.
He was quick to throw it back.
That’s true except now you’re free to do whatever you’d like..
You held in a breath.
More like whomever I’d like
You let out a shaky breath at his reply.
Yeah? Well, you know where my bed is
For a few seconds, you stared at the note, not sure if you should write anything more. You turned back to look at him and your eyes instantly met his. He looked at you with a gleam that you hadn’t seen in a boy's eyes in a long time, at least not one directed toward you. So, you picked up your quill and wrote back, not a single guilty thought crossing your mind.
I suppose I’m going to know what it feels like soon too
~~~
Another long week passed before anything happened between you and him. And each day that passed only filled you with more desire. You felt almost giddy at the thoughts. A secret hookup with James Potter. It was something you’d imagined for a long time, but for so many reasons you never imagined it would actually be brought to life.
But it was.
One night, there was a party in the Ravenclaw common room that everyone was attending. Everyone except you. Or so you thought.
“Are you sure y/n/n? It’ll be so much fun,” Lily questioned. You were all in the Gryffindor common room. Everyone else was getting ready to leave, but you sat on the couch in your bedclothes.
“Yeah, I’m not really in the party mood tonight. Plus, I have some work that still needs to be done,” you answered honestly.
“Boring!” Sirius exclaimed. “Don’t worry lovely I’ll make sure to save some alcohol for you.”
“Thanks, Sirius,” you said with a laugh.
“Let’s go, Wormtail, Moony, Prongs.”
“Actually, you lot can go without me. I’m not feeling the greatest.”
Your eyes shot to James. What was he doing? You noticed what he was wearing. A wifebeater and flannel pants. You swore you never wanted to shag him more than at that moment.
“Are you serious?” Sirius groaned. “Whatever mate you’re no fun. We’ll be back later.”
“All right, have fun,” James replied.
“Bye, y/n/n!” The girls sang as they left.
You waved them all goodbye before getting up and turning to the staircase. You could feel James’s eyes burning into you from behind.
“Seems it’s just the two of us for once,” he said, his voice quieter than before.
Your stomach filled with butterflies. “Yeah, it seems that way.”
“I was wondering if you could help me with some Charms work, I know you have the homework as well perhaps we can do it together...” From the tone of his voice, you knew it wasn’t true. But still, you turned and gave him a slight nod. “It’s all in my dorm, let’s just go up there to do it.”
Deep down, you knew you should’ve felt bad. James was your ex-boyfriend’s best friend. If any of them knew about your sinful thoughts, you’d surely be thrown out of the group and shunned. However, while that knowledge made you feel uneasy, it didn’t stop you from following him up to the dorm.
The second the door closed behind the two of you, James’s lips were on yours. Though it came as a surprise, you didn’t hesitate for even a second to kiss him back. His lips were warm and soft, just how you had always imagined. It was messy and quick and when he broke it you found yourself breathless. All you could do was stare at him, your cheeks pink.
“James I-”
“We can take our time if you’d like, I’m sorry I’ve just wanted to do that for so fucking long,” he replied as if he could read your mind.
“Me too, you don’t understand.” You inhaled deeply and took a few steps deeper into the dorm you were all too familiar with. Only this time, you sat on a different bed. “This doesn’t feel real.”
He sat down next to you on his bed, his glowing hazel eyes locked on yours. “Believe me, I understand everything.”
“I just... want you,” you mumbled. It felt so good to finally say it. You placed one of your hands on his thigh. “I want you a lot.”
He smiled in a way that practically sent shivers down your spine. “I want you too.”
“So, take me. You don’t... you don’t have to be gentle,” you whispered with a confidence you hadn’t felt in a long time.
Instead of answering you with words, James leaned closer and caught your lips in another kiss. This time though, it wasn’t messy and rushed. No. It was passionate, it was a kiss that would leave you giggling on your bed when you looked back on it. As your lips moved against his you followed his lead and laid back on the mattress with your legs parted for him to slip in between.
His hands were far bigger than yours. When he slid one of them up your thigh you almost couldn’t remember how to breathe. You kissed him harder and weaved your fingers through his soft curly hair. He toyed with your shorts for a moment before carefully slipping his hand beneath the fabric. It would be an understatement to say you were wet. You were soaked. And you could feel James’s smirk on your mouth when he discovered this.
“Are you always like this?” He mumbled.
You shook your head. “Only when it comes to you.”
“Good.”
He wasted no more time and moved his fingers under your knickers, finding your clit almost instantly. You gasped, one of your hands gripped his strong shoulder tightly, and your eyes squeezed shut.
“James,” you moaned.
He began to trail wet kisses down your neck as he continued to rub soft circles on your clit. Never mind thinking straight, you couldn’t think at all. Your stomach was warm, and waves of pleasure coursed throughout your entire body. You swore you’d never felt anything as good in your life. But when your hand brushed against his shirt you sighed.
“Take it off, take everything off. Please,” you whispered frantically.
You opened your eyes to see James’s bright smile. “Since you asked so nicely.”
Without another word, he leaned back and pulled his shirt off. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring. His muscles were toned, yet he was still skinny. You wanted to kiss every inch of his body, but you settled on dragging your fingers up and down his chest for a few seconds.
“Your turn,” he said.
You silently sat up and lifted your tank top over your head and threw it down to the floor. Perhaps it was the amount of lust that consumed you, or perhaps it was the amount of comfort you felt with James. Either way, you didn’t cower or feel insecure as his eyes moved across your naked breasts. In fact, you felt confident. So, you laid back down on his bed and began to pull your shorts and knickers down, your eyes not leaving his.
Only when you were fully naked did you feel a slight feeling of insecurity. James must’ve noticed this though because he leaned over you and pressed a sincere kiss to your lips.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. He brushed a hand over one of your breasts. “So perfect.”
“Fuck me, James, please I can’t bear it any longer,” you replied quickly. It was true, you’d already waited so many months in silence. How were you expected to wait even a second longer?
“I think you can afford to bear it for a few more minutes. I want to have my way with you first.”
You were going to protest, but before you could he slid his hand between your thighs. He swirled his fingers over you, collecting your wetness before eventually carefully moving one of his fingers inside of you. You threw your head back and gripped his sheets hard. It was an even better feeling than you’d imagined. He kissed you hungrily as he slowly started finger fucking you.
As if that wasn’t enough, he kissed down your body minutes later before ending with his face between your thighs. You couldn’t contain your whimpers and moans. If anyone was near the Gryffindor boy's dorm, they’d surely hear you. The fact neither of you thought enough to cast a silencing charm only made it more thrilling.
By the time you reached your first orgasm, you were quite sure you’d never felt anything nearly as good in your life. Remus never cared enough to spend his time pleasuring you, at least not after the first few months. But James cared a whole lot. He touched you with his tongue and his fingers till you were shaking and panting for a break.
When he did stop you watched through heavy lids as he wiped his mouth on your thigh and began to pull down his last remaining articles of clothing. His eyes were glowing, and his glasses were almost falling off his face. You decided then that he was by far the most attractive boy you’d ever seen. And when your eyes trailed down his naked body you found yourself an even bigger reason as to why that statement was true.
“Are you on the potion?” He asked as he began to move over you.
“Yeah,” you answered, your voice weak.
He smirked. “You’re a dirty girl hm?”
“For you yes.”
“How so?”
You smiled sweetly and reached up to remove James’s glasses. “Truthfully? Sometimes I touch myself when I think of you.”
“You’ll have to show me next time.” He shifted and you felt his tip brush against your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat. “Is this what you think about?”
“S-Sometimes yes,” you said with a shaky voice.
All you could do as he slowly began to thrust into you was gasp and wrap your arms around him, your nails digging into his skin. He was big and you were still sensitive from how hard you previously came. Those factors only amplified how good he felt. Once he was fully in, he leaned down to connect your lips in another heated kiss before truly starting the shag.
Though Remus would fuck you hard, he never fucked you the way James did. James went hard, he went fast, but he also showed he still cared. At one point, he removed one of your hands from his back and pressed it against the mattress, lacing his fingers through yours. And his lips were either on yours, on your neck, or whispering sweet praises. Even the way he said your name was enough to tell you how much he cared about you.
You didn’t know how long it went on, but it was long enough that he started to grow tired. At that point, you’d already reached your second orgasm, so you decided he deserved a break. With all your strength, you flipped your positions and took some control. You lowered yourself onto him and nearly came a third time from the sounds he made.
When everything was done and over, the two of you laid next to each other out of breath and shocked at what had transpired. You felt your heart pound in your chest and a sticky feeling between your thighs. You turned your head to look at the boy next to you. He, of course, was already looking at you, his glasses back on.
“That was...”
“Better than any of my fantasies,” you told him.
“Mine too,” he agreed with a smile.
You bit down on your lip. “So now what?”
“Perhaps another go?”
That was an offer you could never refuse.
~~~
Hours later, past midnight at least, the door to the boy's dorm opened and the other three Marauders stumbled in. Sirius was far too drunk; he could barely stand up straight. That left Remus and Peter to stand on either side of him with their arms wrapped around his back protectively. All their eyes found you and James after a few seconds. The two of you sat on his bed, a foot of papers between the two of you.
“Oh, hello y/n,” Peter greeted you.
“Y/n, what are you doing here?” Remus questioned.
Sirius only gasped overdramatically. “They’re shagging! Prongsie and Lovely are shagging!”
You rolled your eyes and stood up. “Why don’t we get you to bed?”
“Can I have a go first? Before bed? Please! Is that all right Moony?” Sirius stumbled over his words as his friends dropped him into his bed.
“Nobody’s having a go unless it is Moony,” James said.
Remus turned toward you, a questioning expression on his face. “What are you doing up here?”
You pointed at the many papers on James’s bed. “Charms homework, I told you lot that’s why I wasn’t going to the party. James felt a bit better, so we just decided to work on it together.”
“Will I be allowed to use that work?” Peter asked innocently.
“Of course, Pete,” you replied. You turned back to James’s bed where he still sat, and you began to gather your work. “I should be going then.”
You held your papers close to your chest and tried your hardest not to look at James. You knew if you did, something on your face would clearly show what had really gone on. So, you kept your head down and moved as fast as you could to their door.
“Same time next week then?” James’s voice caught your attention as you were about to leave.
You looked over your shoulder and nodded, trying your hardest not to blush. “Or sooner, I’m very eager to get this work done.”
“All right, sooner, goodnight then,” James replied with a knowing look.
The last thing you heard before leaving was the innocent voice of Peter asking if he could join in and the loud laugh that James let out.
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melonnmiru · 1 year ago
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being a professional volleyball player had gotten kiyoomi an onslaught of— albeit, somewhat unhinged, fans.
he'd never say he hated his fans. in fact, he appreciated their constant support for his growth as both a person and a way too attractive volleyball player. however, the way some of them would show their support was rather... unique for his standards.
the two of you were sprawled out on the couch, you mindlessly scrolling through tiktok, and him ultimately deciding to do the same. this was one of the few times he ever even went on the damn app and the first thing he's greeted with is an edit of him from his most recent game. he somehow felt inclined to open the comments but a part of him knew his scowl would only deepen if he did.
you leaned over and tried to smooth out the crease in between his brows with a hum. "you gotta give them credit, 'omi. you look really hot there."
"it's a 15 second video of me drinking water."
"still hot."
he rolled his eyes, switching his phone off and leaning on your shoulder. you went back to running through his hair with one hand, and scrolling on tiktok with the other.
while kiyoomi was mainly focused on how nice it felt to have your fingers gently carding through his hair, he was also listening along to the random audios that played each time you scrolled onto another video. eventually, a song oddly familiar to kiyoomi started up on your phone.
wait.
kiyoomi paused, turning to look up at you in a comically slow manner with a grimace painted on his face. you bit back a laugh at his sour expression, batting your eyelashes back at him. "what's wrong, my sweetheart, honeybunch, sugarplum, light of my life?"
"ignoring those disgusting pet names— is that the same edit i just saw?"
the familiar song played faintly as you offered him an innocent grin. you glanced at your phone then back at him, quickly swiping up. "edit? don't know what you're talking about."
alas, the algorithm knew you a bit too well. maybe it was coming after you with the fact yet another kiyoomi edit popped up after you swiped. the two of you stared at the screen silently, your thumb sliding over to press another button.
"...what a coincidence, huh 'om-"
"did you just favorite it?"
you didn't respond. he shifted closer to grab your phone, you leaned away. this ultimately led to you and kiyoomi wrestling for your phone. as you two were tugging at your phone, it slid to unsurprisingly, another kiyoomi edit.
"i'm gatekeeping these, get off!"
"they're literally edits of me!"
eventually, he decided to dig his fingers in your sides, causing you to break into what sounded like a mixture of a scream and manic laughter. he smiled triumphantly, using his free hand to grab your phone from your— now weak grasp and going straight to your favorites.
he scrolled through the random collection of cooking tutorials he knows you won't do, cat videos you've shown him multiple times, and of course, edits of him. from clips of him from interviews to his monstrous spikes, you had it all.
"this is— an invasion of privacy!" you whined, trying to get your phone back to no avail. kiyoomi looked through all your saved edits with an amused look. "think you might be even more obsessed than these fans." he teased, his shoulders shaking as a chuckle escaped his lips.
"god, can't someone enjoy videos of their jaw-droppingly handsome, gorgeous, hot, attractive boyfriend in peace?"
"not when you're right next to said handsome boyfriend, watching those videos on the highest possible volume."
you waved off his quip, "details, details." you propped your head on his shoulder and watched in silent amusement as he regrettably decided to open the comments on one of the edits. he's not even sure how some of these comments slipped past community guidelines, while some were rather tame, gushing about how good he looked, some were so depraved he thought he was going to get permanent frown lines just by looking at them.
"if you though that was bad, you should see what i say on twitter."
for the sake of his sanity, kiyoomi decides against checking your twitter account.
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my 31 pending school reqs will not stop me from kiyoomi posting!!
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