#he’s got those pretty dead eyes with no light in them
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BestFriend!Simon Riley and his big, beautiful brown eyes. he doesn’t think they’re anything special, but he knows you like them. is it playing dirty when Simon looks at you through his eyelashes when he wants something? maybe, but can’t you just let him stay over for the night? he’ll be quiet - he always is. your couch is a little too small for him, you don’t mind him squeezing into bed with you, right?
BestFriend!Simon Riley that has such dark irises they could be mistaken for black. sometimes you can’t tell where his iris stops and his pupil starts. eyes half-lidded, pale eyelashes droopy - Simon’s resting face usually has his eyes looking tired, almost heavy with sleep even when he’s wide awake. if you ignore the way his eyebrows seem to furrow, knitting together for positive and negative emotions alike, his drowsy gaze is almost dreamy - especially when he’s looking at you
BestFriend!Simon Riley who stares at you until you notice. lounging on your couch as you talk to him, your gaze focused on the tv while his is on you. two episodes of your favorite show, that’s how long Simon was able to stare at you before you noticed - you spared him a few glances, but it never really struck you. he cracks a smile when you ask, “Do I have something on my face?”, a deep hum rumbling in his chest as he shifts his gaze to the tv, pale eyelashes catching the light, “Nah, just lookin’.”
BestFriend!Simon Riley that stares at his ceiling at night, legs crossed and arms behind his head. one of the now rare times he isn’t at your place, a rare instance he isn’t cozied up and surrounding you. deep, pitch black eyes in the dark room looking up, eyelids heavily with sleep as he dozes off waiting to march back to your place tomorrow, those big, beautiful brown eyes waiting to look at you as he asks to stay over again
#he’s got those pretty dead eyes with no light in them#well until he looks at you#that sparks a fire in them<3#bestfriend!ghost#bestfriend!simon riley#ghost#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost headcanons#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#cod#cod thoughts#call of duty#hit post
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DPxDC Summoning Failed Successfully
Imagine a warehouse. Imagine a bunch of cultists in dark robes with all the candles, daggers, ancient books, and chanting. Now add Danny.
Only not as the summoned being, no. As a sacrifice.
He is sitting down, tied to a chair, in the middle of the summoning circle, looking as bored and deadpan as he can possibly be. The cultists are chanting, and he frowns, listening to their chants for a moment.
"Hey, is that Latin?" He questions, but to no avail, "You know you're not actually using those words correctly, right?"
"Keep quiet, child!" One of the cultists snaps. Danny leans back in his chair and shrugs.
"I'm just saying, you ain't summoning shit with wrong grammar," he huffs, seemingly absolutely nonchalant about the whole thing. Oracle, who is watching the whole ordeal through the surveillance cameras, raises her eyebrows. Red Robin and Robin are already en route to the building the cultists chose for their extracurricular activities, but now she almost wants to watch this a bit longer.
Gothamites are pretty used to all kinds of shitshows, but this boy is from out of town. She checked him through facial recognition. Daniel Fenton, a transfer student from Amity Park, Illinois.
A few more cultists stop chanting and turn to Danny.
"Do you know Latin?" One of them asks, and the boy makes a half-nod, making a thoughtful face.
"Not fluently, but, like, it's a dead language, I felt kinda obligated to learn it. Just for the meme, you know?" He chuckles.
The cultists, judging by their confused silence, don't know. Barbara doesn't know what he's talking about, either. But she is almost curious now, so she taps Robin's and RR's comm lines:
"RR, Robin, when you arrive, don't jump into the scene," she asks.
"Understood," Tim answers immediately, but Damian, of course, demands explanations:
"Is there an obstacle?"
"Not really," Barbara humms, "The sacrifice is in the process of de-escalating the situation."
She can almost hear the questioning silence over the comm, but, thankfully, no one argues. Meanwhile, one of the cultists pipes up, voice full of doubt:
"So, you can... like, proofread our incantation?"
"Yeah, sure," Danny nods, apparently fine with being sacrificed, "Who you're trying to summon anyway?"
"Satan," that same cultist answers, and Danny laughs approvingly.
"Classic," he nods and smiles, "I'll give you this. The circle is mostly alright, so you don't need an incantation to summon the fucker, I have him on speed dial." And with that, he leans forward, screaming towards the floor: "Ey, Satan!"
Barbara must say the act was actually convincing, but he went a little overboard with it now. She reaches to tell both Robins to get in, but suddenly, a loud, booming voice reverberates through the building.
"The fuck do you want, kid?"
Cultists fall to their knees - it doesn't seem like an act of worship, more like their knees bucking. The whole circle dimly lights up in red, smoke raising from it.
"Do you see this shit, Oracle?" Red Robin questions, and she mhm's at him, not sure what else to say. If this is still an act or a trick, she must say it's a very good one. Although somehow she suspects it's not a trick. She's seen enough magic in her life to tell the difference.
"Do you want to come to Earth, be gay and do crimes?" Danny asks, almost mockingly.
"Fuck off."
The red light flickers and disappears, and Danny looks back up to cultists, grinning cheerfully.
"Welp, looks like he doesn't wanna," the kid concludes and stands up from his chair. Barbara hadn't seen when or how he got out of his bindings.
The cultists just watch him walk out of the circle in bewilderment.
"Pursue?" Robin's voice comes over the comms, and Barbara thinks for a moment.
"I get a feeling like that's a bad idea," Tim mutters over his line.
Barbara agrees.
#danny phantom#oracle#dc x dp#dpxdc#batfam#tim drake#damian wayne#red robin#robin#barbara gordon#i dunno its probably already been written more times than i can think of#i just enjoy the 'he doesnt wanna' bit#summoning#cork prompts
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—HSR YANDERES AS TROPES.
Forced Proximity? Soulmates..? Amenesia! Common tropes that always end up happy! Your favorite characters love you so so much! But.. is it in the way you want?...
content warnings: yandere, toxic love, unreliable narrator, descriptions of gore, unrealistic relationships, unwanted PDA, depressive elements, suggestive, gn!reader (maybe ideas for makeup but most of the part is gn) pairing(s): sunday x reader, blade x reader, aventurine x reader, jing yuan x reader word count: around 350-500 each, 2100+ words in all A/N: I got a tiny bit carried away
Aventurine - Amnesia
WHAT’S PLAYING: engravings - Ethan Bortnick
Your eyes are blinded by the casino lights. The sound of chips being thrown and cards being shuffled fills your ears. Things feel so familiar, but at the same time, completely foreign. You turn your eyes to your lover. At least you think he’s your lover.
Two weeks ago you woke up in the dead of night on a hospital bed feeling numb from your head to the tips of your toes. The hospital lights were blinding making you feel dreary. You slowly regained movement by wiggling your fingertips and finally being able to sit up on the comfortable bed. As you gazed around the room you felt shocked to see gold engravings on the trim of the walls. It’s obvious it was a hospital, but it felt too expensive.
And you? You felt out of place.
A nurse walked into your room with a pan of what seemed like a new IV bag and other things like syringes and such. She turned wide-eyed and gasped as she suddenly dropped the pan of expensive medical equipment. You couldn’t make out what she said as she mouthed something out loud. The drowsiness hit you and you passed out.
The next time you woke up to a man sitting beside your bed in the most luxurious clothes you ever laid eyes on. He looked worried, very worried. Realizing you woke up once again his Avgin eyes-
Wait Avgin?...
“Sweetheart! You’ve been out for months. How are you feeling? Is there any pain? How… Can…?” He spoke quickly but after the first couple of sentences, his words faded into mush.
He called you sweetheart though, you deduced he was someone close to you. Someone that must have cared for you.
But then why do you feel-
Cutting your thoughts you paused. Thinking was causing you too much pain and headache at the moment. You tried to recall what happened.
And at that moment you realize you couldn’t even recall who you were.
After some time of recovery, you were able to get a couple of things down. The handsome man’s name was Aventurine. He is your lover. (?) You two have been together for quite some time now. You were diagnosed with severe amnesia, but your lover was kind enough to explain everything to you. Although, he was still hesitant to explain what happened to you and the reason why you were in the hospital.
You tried to get something out of the many doctors and nurses, but they seemed… scared.
Aventurine never left your side when other people were around. It was either you and him or no one at all. Leaving you lost and not being able to truly be clear about your condition. Everything went through Aventurine.
One day during your walk around the large hospital, Aventurine got a call. He looked at it and furrowed his eyebrows, smiled at you, said it was an urgent call, apologized, and left for a brief moment.
You dragged your IV stand a couple of steps more and abruptly stopped in your tracks as you overheard a pair of nurses talk about… you?
“IPC… they… lies… Aventurine… hiding.” Those were the only few words you were able to make out.
It no longer mattered though because Aventurine’s bright smile found you again and you walked back to your room first. If only you could see the piercing glare that he sent to the nurses. He wouldn’t know what to do if you heard about the fates of them after spreading lies to your pretty head.
After the recovery, you settled in enough to “your life”. Now you sit next to your lover whose luck shines more vibrant than a newborn baby’s laughter. You feel content for the most part.
I wonder if you would still feel content if you were able to take a good look past Aventurine’s perfect poker face. While you sleep he watches you worriedly, wondering if you’ll remember one day. Remember that this perfect love story he crafted isn’t so perfect after all. He wonders how you would react if you were to find out again the atrocities he’s committed in the name of “love”. He holds his chips tightly, but luck has always been on his side.
So tonight like any other night, you’ll smile with no idea of what had occurred in the past. At the end of the day, occasionally it is better to live unaware.
•••
Jing Yuan - Grumpy x Sunshine
WHAT'S PLAYING: Carousel - Melanie Martinez
The Luofu General was known for his joyous laughter and the positivity that he spread throughout the entire planet. He joked and was an infectious smiler. You on the other hand were known as the Yin to his Yang. If Jing Yuan was the sun, you were his moon. It’s adorable on paper, isn’t it?
You do nothing less than agree with the fact that your husband Jing Yuan was very positive. The reason why differed from others though.
You believed the reason he was so happy was because he sucked every smile, every laugh out of you.
Your story was the average fairytale, opposite attracts and then they fall in love. The End.
Unfortunately for you, Jing Yuan was anything but ordinary, and maybe that played a part in your perfect tragedy.
Jing Yuan loved you. You knew that for sure. He had always been a PDA person, always close to you and you would most likely be seen dead than without his arm around your waist. It wasn’t a big deal though. This is what lovers usually do right?
Until you tried to back away. Things got… messy.
Arguments ensued and you realized that he never really treated you as an equal. He loved you, yes, but he viewed you as lesser and somehow put you on a pedestal at the same. exact. time.
“You don’t respect me.” You stated firmly.
“But I love you.” He replied as if nothing was wrong.
You never thought your husband to be a jealous person and truly he was not. The possessiveness is what got you through.
It began small from making excuses on why you shouldn’t go out,
“It’s my day off!” or “It might rain soon.” Both are lazy excuses you’ve heard again and again. Yet you still seemed to fall again and again for his sunshine charms and wits.
You were the perfect lover to Jing Yuan, loving, kind, and malleable to believe whatever he wanted you to believe.
At some point after the large argument you two shared, you didn’t remember the last time when you had left the estate.
You felt stuck, stuck on a carousel that kept going around and around and stuck trying to read between the lines of Jing Yuan’s perfect facade. If you caught him at the wrong time you wouldn’t see him for days and when he would return he would haphazardly apologize with the stupidest excuses.
You never raised your voice anymore after THAT argument though. You were too scared to. So even when he scratches his name into your skin, even if he hugs you so tightly to the point that you feel like your lungs are collapsing, you find excuses for him. For yourself. To make this entire relationship work
Because you love him.
And you don’t not what scares you more anymore. The slight warning in his tone and the ever-present toxicity seeping its way into your originally “perfect” marriage.
Or.
The fact you’ll still stay even if it gets worse.
Why?
Because you love him.
•••
Blade - Forced Proximity.
WHAT’S PLAYING: This is Love - Air Traffic Controller
There’s blood on the walls, the floors, and even on the couch. Anything you’ve been able to find you’ve smashed onto the ground. Your hands are covered in blood. No worries to Blade though. He sits on the couch covered in the blood of a man. Your eyes flicker to the dead body right in front of you. The now dead man who tried to help you escape from this prison Blade oh so lovingly calls “your” home to no avail.
Blade’s red eyes stare into the distance of space. Perhaps he’s wondering what he should do next for your transgressions. Perhaps he is wondering what he can do to make you smile again. Or maybe, he doesn’t care. Maybe he finds happiness and contentedness in your suffering. After all, a being who is forever stricken by mara might find peace in others' pain.
But.
Past this mara-stricken being is a man who does have some semblance of love for you. Blade knew your every like and dislike. He would trail kisses up your neck and on your lips. You’d joke together. You both were disgustingly domestic at times. At least that’s what appeared. Loving Blade wasn’t difficult when every moment you breathed you were near him.
You wear outfits perfectly fitted to your style sponsored by your self-proclaimed lover himself. Anything you want you’ll get. Jewels, clothing, books, anything you could ever desire. It’s nothing but pocket money for the Stellaron Hunter.
Your mascara has been smudged after all the tears. Your sniffles fill up the room, you look at your palms. Hands covered in scratches and blisters from broken glass and accidental burns. You don’t have to worry though, Blade will patch it all up for you. This situation will fade into the past just like all the others. Your head peaks again at the dismembered and maimed body on the floor. You stop breathing yet again. You shut your eyes and open them once again when you feel a warm breath on your neck.
It’s Blade, you can tell that the mara had warned off him. He tightens his arms around your body and somehow pulls you closer than he ever did before in your “relationship”. You blink once again as a tear rolls down your cheek and pray to any Aeon out there for help. Despite this, you're well aware it’s no use. There’s no place in the universe where Blade won’t find you. So you close your eyes to hum a broken chord as you prepare for the cycle to begin again.
•••
Sunday - Soulmates
WHAT’S PLAYING: Butch 4 Butch - Rio Romeo
Fairytale love stories where the prince and the princess lived happily ever after were something that you grew up with on your home planet. As you grew up though, “soulmates” left your mind. Other things like making credits and exploring the galaxies were more on your agenda than finding “true love”.
True love was a fairytale. Something that didn’t exist and that’s what you stood by ever since.
Ever since your planet was destroyed by its inhabitants. If people couldn’t love the homes they lived in how could they ever love one another?
You enjoyed travel, you enjoyed learning about other planets, cultures, and people. You didn’t have time for the nonexistent love. Though you enjoyed hearing the stories of it. You’ve met others who found their “soulmates”, their one and only blessed by the Aeons themselves.
On your travel across the world, you stumbled on Penacony, The Planet of Dreams and Entertainment. The perfect and endless days are what brought you in the most. You could be there for days on end but turn out to only spend a couple of hours outside in the “real world”.
Real world huh?
You think you miss the real world a little bit.
“Are the pastries not to your liking love?” Sunday inquires.
“They’re… fine.” You reply.
Sunday smiles. You don’t know what it means though. He smiles at everything, he smiles at gatherings, at your laughter, and even at the tears you desperately try to hold in. He thinks of you as something to be protected, something that should be kept safe in a cage, away from the tainted lies of others.
Everything feels uncomfortable, from the moment you met Sunday you felt an odd gravitational pull towards him. It was truly as if he was your soulmate.
Except,
Something begged you to run away, something deep in the back of your soul. It all went away when you laid eyes on him though.
You wish you listened to your fight AND flight response.
Everything you wear is coordinated by the Head of the Oak Family. From the tiniest detail to your entire personality. Sunday is a firm believer that only the true you can come out behind closed doors, with locks only he has access to. His mansion was the perfect enrichment for a now flightless bird like you.
Perhaps the fairytales were somewhat true. The prince and the princess always seemed to stay forever together.
#blade hsr#blade x reader#yandere x reader#yandere blade#yandere jing yuan#yandere sunday#yandere aventurine#hsr aventurine#hsr blade#jing yuan x reader#aventurine x reader#hsr sunday x you#sunday x reader#yandere hsr#yandere honkai star rail#hsr x reader#hsr x gender neutral reader#hsr yandere#yandere#hsr imagines#hsr fluff#blade x female reader#jing yuan#sunday#aventurine honkai star rail#penacony#blade x y/n#sunday x you#aventurine x you#jing yuan x you
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Once again I need to get off my ass and go work but instead all I'm thinking about is Them:
Buck's mostly got his breathing under control by the time he hears the side door slide open, and he adjusts his weight automatically, tips his chin as he straightens his spine, tugs at the bottom of his suit jacket like that will fix the wrinkles he'd made bending at the waist for the last ten minutes.
"Buck?"
He's turned away, thank god, so Tommy can't see the wince.
"I'm fine," he says, annoyed with himself and the world at large when it comes out wobbly. "Go back ins-." When he hears the door click shut again he takes a moment to hope Tommy's just left, again, but -
No such luck.
"That door locks from the inside," Buck murmurs, and tears his gaze away from the gentle expression on Tommy's face. There'd been a cardboard box wedged up in there by whatever line cook had been out here smoking when Buck burst through the doors, and the guy had left it with a warning about how insanely large this building was and how few doors along its perimeter were unlocked, and now the broken down box is somewhere beneath Tommy's left foot.
Tommy tries the door anyway.
It doesn't budge. "We could just call Eddie," Tommy says, and Buck feels the ire rise in his throat.
"Eddie's not here," he spits, and it feels like a knife under the ribs. Everyone fucking leaves, eventually. "Call your date, if you want. I'm walking."
Buck heaves himself up from his lean against the brick, takes two large strides to make it past Tommy and keeps going.
He should have known better than taking Bobby at his word that this stupid gala would be worth his time. So far he's dodged conversations about the curse of the 118, spent an unbearable five minutes smiling blandly at Gerrard before he could excuse himself, and tossed two numbers written on raffle tickets into the trash in his mad dash through the kitchens because apparently Tommy had been chosen as the rep for 217 and he looks fucking good in his suit, and he'd been pretty sure they'd be spending this Christmas together, until last month.
He's twenty yards down the alley when he hears footsteps catching up to him. Light, brisk - he's jogging to catch up and Buck doesn't want to deal with -
"Not my date," Tommy says, and Buck curses his own body for automatically slowing to allow him to catch up.
Buck snorts. "Okay." The guy was older - than Buck, at least. Grey around his temples, fat lips and clever eyes that caught Tommy's mid-sentence and sent them both into quiet hysterics.
"Buck, would you just -."
He's close enough to reach for Buck's arm, so Buck wrenches it away before he can make contact. "Don't call me that."
December twenty-third is one of those weird days where the world doesn't quite work the same. Traffic is heavier or lighter in weird places, people with nothing to do wander the streets or hole up in their homes making too much food and watching weird holiday movies, and even in LA it gets chilly enough at night to need a jacket. This one isn't doing shit to keep Buck warm, but the anger catching in his throat sure is.
"It's your name," Tommy says, exasperated.
"Not to you." Buck stops dead in his tracks, watches Tommy take another three steps before he realizes he's alone. When he turns, Buck doesn't allow himself to turn away from his gaze. Annoyance isn't a new look - Buck has tested the waters enough in six months to know intimately exactly how far he could push it before Tommy stopped indulging him.
He looks upset. Frustrated. Tired. Hot as fuck. Buck sort of wishes he'd do something about those first two.
Something other than walk away.
Tommy sighs. Runs a hand through his hair, and the sides aren't as high and tight anymore. There's a piece curling over the tip of his ear and Buck wants to tug at it, slide his fingers in there and tuck it back. "That was Sal," he says, and Buck flicks through the sadly small Rolodex of names Tommy has mentioned in the past. Another boundary Buck hadn't realized was a brick fucking wall in the way of getting to know his boyfriend.
Ex.
Sal. He'd been at the 118 with Gerrard, in the early days. Before Chim and Hen, before Bobby. He'd been the one to prompt Tommy into filing a complaint against Gerrard even though he'd been scared out of his mind to do it.
"I don't care."
He does care, is the problem. He cares so much. He's got a pile of fruit cakes and half a dozen pies sitting on his kitchen island right now that prove it. He can't seem to stop caring.
Tommy looks sceptical.
Buck brushes past him again, keeping his strides long. Tommy's the same height, but both literally and metaphorically he's always struggled to keep up when Buck had somewhere to be.
At least the panic attack has passed. Maybe he could take up running, as a cure all, instead of the weak ass recovery period he usually takes that involves him drinking a bottle of water and staring at the same spot on the wall until he sees stars.
So, fine. Tommy hadn't brought a date to the work function it was entirely possible Buck would be at six weeks after breaking up with him and disappearing into the damn wind. He'd bubbled Buck seven times that Buck knew of, and he hadn't brought a date.
Fine.
"I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You looked -."
Buck had watched Tommy wheeze with laughter and curl a hand around the dudes - Sal's - wrist and he'd felt like maybe he was gonna throw up. Like six months and the something he'd been working his way up to defining hadn't meant a damn thing. Like Tommy could just move on like he seemed to think Buck could.
"Doing great, Tommy. My best friend is moving to Texas and the man I thought I could -." Buck clears his throat. Shuffles sideways just a bit because Tommy is keeping pace now and his cologne is familiar and devastating. He doesn't have anything inside. Once he rounds this corner he could just order an Uber and go home.
There's nothing keeping him here.
"Eddie's moving?"
The no contact thing had extended to everyone at the 118, apparently. At least Buck wasn't alone in that.
Buck digs out his phone, slows his pace just enough to pull up the app he needs. He can feel Tommy's eyes burning a hole in the side of his head.
"Yeah, well. I'm getting used to people leaving at this point," he says, filling it with as much ire as he can. His voice doesn't wobble this time.
"Buck."
It's soft, this time, same inflection as when he'd cage Buck against a counter and lick into his mouth. "Don't worry about me, Tommy. You made it a point not to."
"That's not fair."
Buck couldn't care less. He's spent six weeks on a depression baking spiral and now he wants to go home and destroy every bit of baked goods he's made that are still left.
It only takes a few taps. They're surging prices, but that's not exactly a shocker.
He'd really thought the next time he saw Tommy he'd just be sad. Maybe he'd feel a little wistful about all the moments they'd shared that had meant something to Buck even if they hadn't meant the same to Tommy.
He wants to swing a fist, if he's being honest. He wouldn't. Not ever. But the desire is there and he hates it.
"Buck, could we just -."
"Stop calling me that!"
"I pay a mortgage, Evan!"
Buck can't remember Tommy ever raising his voice. It's - weird.
"I'm forty years old and I own a house and you asked me to move in to your loft after you told me you admired me." The emphasis isn't lost on him.
His ride is three minutes away.
"I got it the first time, Tommy. Haven't sucked enough cocks or done enough tests to know what I really want, so. Go enjoy your evening with Sal and -."
"That is not what I said." Cool, calm. Infuriating.
"Well that's what I got from it, so clearly we were never on the same page. I wanted a future with you and you've been eyeing the expiration date the whole time so -."
He's definitely not expecting Tommy's lips. But there they are, on his, and Buck's stumbling back, fully expecting the sharp crack of the brick at the back of his head as Tommy surges forward with him, only Tommy's hand curls around his skull at the last second and takes the brunt of the landing. His mouth opens on a groan and Buck licks up into it. Their noses clash and rather than shifting for better positioning they just press closer. Tommy's free hand finds the soft give of Buck's waist and his thigh finds purchase between Buck's legs and -
"You're willfully misunderstanding me," Tommy says, lips on Buck's jaw, heart pounding under Buck's hand, his breath ghosting along Buck's cheek.
"Never really gave me the opportunity for clarity," Buck bites back, and Tommy huffs, rolls his hips, tucks his forehead into the juncture of Buck's shoulder.
His pulse is pounding in his ears and there's a cloud of Tommy Tommy Tommy obscuring his senses.
"Do you still want that?"
Buck's phone dings in his hand.
His ride is here.
"Not if you're just gonna walk away again," Buck bites out, and shoves. Hard.
It barely moves Tommy, but it's enough to slip out of his grasp.
He doesn't glance behind to see if Tommy follows as he pulls at his suit jacket again and rounds the corner to try to catch - he eyes his phone - Sheri before she cancels the ride on him.
Doesn't stop him from hearing the footfalls behind him while he searches out the blue Honda Civic.
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i think that kui portrayed kabru's mental health issues in a very interesting way, but it's what makes it subtle to some readers. the fact that he seems so functional to the readers, especially in the first few appearances, not to mention that a lot of his problems and symptoms are not obvious and can only be seen in additional materials, seems like an intended choice from the character writing perspective.
the way kui constructs his character centers around the idea of duality. he switches between two "faces" in the story constantly, he uses two speaking styles (and two pronouns indicating them), he's a tallman who lived with elves for a long time and carries both cultures, he's caught in the conflict between long-lived and short-lived races, he's constantly stuck between two choices in his inner conflicts (what to think of laios? should he prioritize preventing another tragedy or taking away power from long-lived races?), he's bisexual. kui also made him a gemini, yknow, a zodiac sign associated with twins and duality.
there's a certain theme in this and it does affect the way we interpret his personality and choices and it goes beyond text, it's metatextual too. it's a sway between what's hidden and what's shown to the readers about him.
the thing is, i think his mental health issues are meant to be downplayed and hidden, because it's true to his character. what do we notice about him in the main story and what's hidden? well, one of the first things we see is that he's not great at fighting monsters, he suffers from ptsd that makes him basically freeze up just from thinking about them. images of dead people turning into monsters, tearing each other apart and eating each other haunt him, making him feel ill from monster food. he downplays this a lot, hides it from other characters, straight-up lies about it, but at least readers got to see it.
with a keen eye you might notice that he doesn't eat enough food, almost never eats anything on-screen. he mentions that he's never cooked food in his life: wait, kabru, don't you live alone? in that sense "don't you wanna eat?" moment reveals two details of kabru's character at once: we got to see his aversion from monster food related to ptsd, but also his inability to notice his own hunger in general. he's strong and he almost always wears armor, but we know that he often dies in the dungeon. the armor hides that he's pretty scrawny for someone who fights physically, again, something that we can only notice after he takes off his armor (symbolism!).
funnily enough, here we have our first glance at this through additional materials: in the info page about the importance of calories and fat, kui mentions that kabru has lost a lot of weight since he started exploring the dungeon, because he died a lot. what it means is that he doesn't eat enough to cover the loss of weight. subtle, but clever detail.
speaking of him not knowing how to cook, this is another clever detail that hides bigger truth: kabru doesn't know how to do chores, he doesn't take proper care of himself. extra materials reveal to us that kabru lives in the basement, lacking light and clean air and he doesn't know how to clean his room or how to iron clothes and simply... never cared to learn? this is mostly omitted from the main story, even if it does have a place for it: for example, his journey with mithrun becomes infinitely more fascinating, when you know how little kabru cares about himself. but since those chapters are told through kabru's pov, he basically "hides" this from the reader, takes control of the narrative in the same way he tells a polished version of his tragic backstory.
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he talks about mithrun's story like there's no connection, like he's not literally looking at the dark mirror of himself. and, ironically, he chooses to not be vulnerable in front of the readers just like young mithrun wouldn't. extra materials give us a glimpse again: when in the main story mithrun said "i can't fall asleep without spell or potion", in the extra comic (literally behind the scenes) kabru says "i use alcohol to help me fall asleep". there's a connection and kabru sees it, but he's not telling it to us. (and yes. there's evidence that kabru is an early-stage alcoholic. we can see bottles under his bed and what he says basically imply that he depends on alcohol: he's not using it for recreational purposes, he's using it as a substance to make himself sleepy and, probably, less anxious. when that dependence turns uncontrolled, it often leads to full-blown alcoholism).
bigger connection to mithrun is of course kabru's refusal to accept his own humanity, to see that he's alive, that he has his own needs and desires. he's suicidal in the same way: he can only see his goal, he doesn't care about his life, he only sees the value of his life in relation to that goal and he never think what's gonna happen to him after he reaches this goal (because he unconsciously believes that "the after" wouldn't happen to him). and he doesn't reflect on it, again, until he's met with a question "what do you want to do?". the way he doesn't see himself as alive is omitted again in the big portion of the story and only really comes up in the end, when he asks "what was the point of my survival?", in a basically joking moment.
but we can see it through the symbolism, through his connection to death in the story, through his eagerness to sacrifice his life for the idealistic goal in his mind. and of course, we can see it clearly through his mirror: there's a strong parallel between kabru almost committing double suicide while chasing his goals and mithrun literally getting himself killed while chasing his own.
what i'm trying to say, it's interesting that kabru uses his control of the narrative to hide his own vulnerability from the readers. maybe mithrun sees himself as leftovers and it's something cathartic for him to admit in the end, but kabru really doesn't want you to see that he feels the same way. that he's also "leftovers". but you see, they are standing together in that panel. as kabru continues to try shielding himself from your view, kui puts the mirror next to him, revealing what's hidden.
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Hello! :3 I see ure writing yandere and for inho and with my current obsession over the front man/hwang inho im asking if you can do yandere front man? Pls do it as dark as possible 🙏
Did I read dark? Absolutely!
Yandere Hwang In-ho/Frontman
Squid Game masterlist
Nsfw and dead dove do not eat below.
At first his focus was towards Gi-hun, but when you were part of their team, sat with them, talking to him, his focus slowly but surely shifted to you.
In-ho would silently root for you without letting his front man mask slip.
The guards will give you food that has been only reserved for you during mealtime. Suddenly your ration has the type of food you like, an extra egg or more rice, but most importantly the nutrisions you'd need for the next game.
In-ho is the reason a random player has been shot instead of you, he is the reason the guards have escorted you to the bathroom as another lights out fight happened.
Hwang hears everything you say, whether it's during eating or when he's laying awake in his bed, listening to you speaking with someone.
He's too good of a manipulator, tells you to listen to him instead of the former winner Gi-hun, tells you to stay close to him instead anybody else.
"Why go with Gi-hun and risk getting killed when you can stay with me where you'd be safe?"
In-ho watches you from the corner of his eyes, his knuckles turning white when he sees another Thanos-like douchebag confronting you.
He has absolutely no trouble beating someone bloody who dared flirting with you or touching you without consent. Could easily snap that person's neck without a flinch.
In-ho gets sick pleasure when he sees someone you've got close with get gunned down by the guards. You look so pretty to him, no matter if you're crying or not..
If a raid against the guards happens, Hwang watches you like a hawk, making sure you're not getting harmed and you're not getting away. His stares would be so intense he is sure you would feel them burn through you.
During a raid, he couldn't be happier because whatever happens he knows you will be captured, either by his guards or directly him after faking his death.
He already plans what he would do with you once you've been captured, he would make you watch the games with him, all in his front man attire of course.
Forces you to watch the guards gun down the ones you became friends with, telling you:
"See what happens to those you call friends? The money makes them your friends until they're getting it and betray you..."
Has planned to keep you in his chambers while observing the games, having his right hand man, the Officer, keeping tabs on you.
Hwang will reveal himself to you soon, expecting your eyes widen in fear, shock or hopelessness.
In-ho would personally implant a tracker into you, making sure he always knows where you are, this way you have almost no way of getting rid of him.
In-ho keeps you exclusively to himself, not even the VIPs are allowed near you. He has his moments where he treats you more like his trophy, squeezing your thighs possessively with his cold leather glove.
"You are by far the most beautiful price. But I get to keep you, you're my perfect price.."
In-ho is rich as hell, so there is no doubt he will spoil you with it.
Any rogue guard trying to lay his hands on you gets his lesson taught with a bullet in his brain for touching his perfect price.
Hwang may seem cold to his staff, but with you he isn't. He's the man whispering sweet nothings into your ear until you're too weak to stand.
If you're trying to escape however... that is if you somehow make it past the guards, In-ho can get harsh with you too.
"Trying to escape are we? Perhaps you need a reminder of who you belong to now, hm?"
His favorite is having you on his lap, with his cock stuffed into you while he watches the games. You're not allowed to move until he says so, you're not allowed to cum until he says so, you're not allowed to make noise until he says so.
Your best bet with him is behaving and doing what he says.
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#squid game#squid game 2#hwang in ho#the frontman#the front man#yandere hwang in ho#hwang in ho x reader#the front man x reader#squid game season 2
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Eddie helps Jeff and Grant move into their freshman college dorms. Eddie's not going to college; it took him six years to graduate high school. He's not about to put more time and now money into a dead-end education, but he respects the guys' decision.
They're upset the university's stupid roommate questionare didn't pair them together. They answered everything exactly the same, and yet they still got split up. It's bullshit. Eddie knows it, they know it, everyone knows it. But it is what it is. Jeff doesn't want to make waves with the school, and Grant's just happy they accepted his sorry ass, so they'll have to live with it.
Jeff, Gareth, and Grant are currently figuring out how they're going to smuggle a microwave into Grant's room. Eddie leaves them to it, already holding a box marked for Jeff in his hands. He saunters out of the elevator and down the hall toward Jeff's room, nodding his head at anyone who does the same to him.
College is weird, he thinks. No one has sneered at him -- not even the frat dude bro type who checked Jeff and Grant in earlier. Maybe it's true what they say, college is full of open-minded people. He'll let the boys be the guinea pig on that one.
Jeff's door is half shut when he gets there, which is weird because he knows they left it wide open. They still have to bring in his record collection, and even though he ditched hundreds at home, the box is still way heavier than it should be. Having to put it down to open the door is a no go.
Thankfully, the box Eddie is carrying now is rather light so he turns and uses what little ass he has to bump the door open before sliding inside.
He stops dead in his tracks as Jeff's roommate turns to meet his gaze.
Eddie doesn't believe in God, doesn't believe in angels -- he likes to think Demons exist, but that's more of an aesthetic thing than anything else -- but he's pretty sure he's in the presence of an angel.
No, he's certain he is.
The large window between the beds shoots rays of sunshine through the horizontal blinds, painting the guy in beautiful shades of yellow and orange. And jesus h. christ the shadow gives off the illusion of a halo around his gorgeous, lush, perfectly styled hair.
He's wearing a sweater -- how he's wearing a sweater in the sweltering heat, Eddie doesn't know, but he is -- with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Eddie can't help but let his eyes take in the miles and miles of sun-kissed skin, unmarked with ink like his own but decorated with freckles and moles that Eddie wants to trace, connecting them like constellations he spent decades staring at on the roof of the trailer back at home. And, okay, maybe a few other unholy thoughts also pop into his head -- sue him.
He has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at that. Of course Eddie's first thought upon stumbling on an angel is to wreck them.
"Hey, I'm Steve," the man says, extending a hand out to Eddie.
Jesus H. Christ, it's bigger than any hand has any right to be. Eddie's mind immediately wonders what else might be bigger than most. He can't help it.
"You must be Jeff," he smiles. "It's nice to finally meet you."
"Yep, that's me!" Eddie says without thinking it through. He scrambles to put the box down and reaches out to shake Steve's hand.
It's a firm handshake, what Wayne would call "business-like," but it sends a burst of electricity coursing through Eddie's body. It's silly, really silly, but Eddie doesn't think his hand has ever fit so perfectly in someone else's before.
Maybe they're soulmates. He doesn't believe in those either, but he could if this Steve guys is his.
Steve smiles and drops his hand a second later and Eddie tries his best not to buckle under the loss of touch.
"What do you think of the place?" Steve says. His hands shoot to his waist, settling there as he gives the room a bitchy glance over. "It's a lot smaller than I was expecting."
"At least it's only a double," Eddie says. "My friend's stuck in a triple."
Poor Grant. As if losing out on rooming with Jeff isn't enough, he really got fucked.
Steve whistles lowly. "Damn, man, that sucks."
He squats then, digging through an already unopened box, and Eddie feels faint. His jeans were already tight, but with his new angle, they're stretched to the max, leaving very, very, very little to be imagined. And Eddie has no problem imagining anything, much less what the skin under those pale blue jeans looks like.
Steve's shirt rides up a bit as he leans over more, really sifting through the box now, and the tiny sliver of skin above the waistband of his boxers is enough to send Eddie into full-blown gremlin mode.
Maybe he should have applied to college.
"So, Jeff," Steve says, standing again and glancing between the two beds.
Neither has seemed to claim them yet. Jeff -- the real Jeff -- didn't want to be rude, and judging by the single box Steve's been looking through, he's only just started the move-in process.
"Got any bed preferences?"
Sharing it with you.
No, no! he scolds himself.
"Nope, have at it," Eddie says, casting his arms out wide and bending at the waist. He's not sure why he's done it, but by the time he registers how weird it might be, it's too late. So he commits to the bit, and it's worth it when Steve chuckles.
"Cool, cool," he nods. "I'll take this one, then." Steve shuffles over to the bed farthest from the door and tests the firmness with his hand. It gives just enough to make Steve smile. "I can work with this, if you know what I mean."
Eddie thinks he's really gone and died then because Steve honest to god winks at him.
Winks!
At. Him.
Eddie!
What the fuck.
"Yeah," he croaks, a little awkward and a whole lot aroused. He needs to get out of here before he jumps Jeff's roommate and accidentally gets him kicked out. Better yet, he needs to figure out how to get enrolled and kick Jeff out of his room himself. "Alright, well, I've got more shit to bring up, so I'll be back."
"I'll be here."
Eddie nods then bolts, ditching the elevator altogether and taking the three flights of stairs two at a time. Jeff's still arguing with boys when he gets down there, sweaty and out-of-breath.
"Jesus, what happened to you?" Gareth snaps.
"Oh no," Jeff winces. "Is my roommate a dick? Did he chase you out?"
"No," Eddie pants, shaking his head widly. He reaches out with both hands and slams them down on Jeff's shoulders way harder than he needs to. "Your roommate, Steve-- he's-- I think I'm in love."
The guys burst into laughter.
"Here we go again," Gareth says, rolling his eyes.
"You just met the guy," Grant adds. "How could you possibly be in love?"
"You can't be in love with my roommate," Jeff scolds, shaking Eddie's hand off of him.
"Jeff, Jefferson, Jeffery," Eddie rambles. "I am in love. He is the man I am going to marry. The one who will father my children. The one to tame this wild horse--"
"You've slept with two dudes, Eddie. I don't think that makes you a wild horse," Gareth scoffs.
Eddie ignores him. He doesn't have time to deal with Gareth. Not when Steve is upstairs waiting for him.
"I need to go back to him."
Eddie moves to step around the three, eager to grab another box with Jeff's name on it and get back to Steve. Back to the love of his life. But Jeff blocks him.
"No. No. Absolutely not," Jeff says, reeling Eddie back in. "I have to live with this guy for a year. You are not going back up there and making it weird."
"Well then I have good news for you," Eddie says, wicked grin already breaking out onto his face.
"This can't be good," Grant mumbles.
"You don't even have to go up there. He thinks I'm Jeff."
"Okay, but you're not Jeff," the real Jeff says, crossing his arms. "I'm Jeff and I'm going to go to my room and introduce myself to my roommate and you're going to stay far, far, far away from him."
Eddie shakes his head. "You can't do that! He'll think I'm a liar."
"You are a liar," Gareth butts in.
"Eddie," Jeff groans. "I have to go up there! I live here. I'm Jeff. He needs to know the truth."
"Or, or!" Eddie shouts, full of frantic energy now. He's bouncing on the balls of his feet, mind reeling a million miles an hour as the plan starts to form in his head. This could work. It could totally work. "How about I pretend to be you for the next year and you can be me."
"Dude, no!" Jeff scoffs. "I worked my ass of to get here. I'm not trading lives with you so you can try to fuck my roommate."
"Oh, I won't have to try," Eddie says. "He might have already offered."
"Oh my god. My roommate thinks I want to fuck him."
"Your roommate doesn't even know you exist," Grant corrects.
"What were you thinking?" Jeff shouts.
"He clearly wasn't thinking with his head," Gareth says.
"This is a disaster."
"No," Eddie says, shaking his head. He doesn't know why they're being so catastrophic about this. It's fine. It's all going to be fine. "Okay, new plan, I'll pretend to be you but only in your dorm. You can still go to class and do all the college shit. I'll only be Jeff to Steve."
"And where am I supposed to live?"
"With Grant."
"Asshole! I'm already in a triple! We can't house another person."
"And you're not even enrolled!" Jeff adds. "What happens when the RA finds out? I'll get kicked out and you'll--"
"Go to jail."
Eddie rolls his eyes. "I don't think people go to jail for impersonating college students, Gare."
"They might!" Gareth says, throwing his hands up. "Are you really going to risk going to jail just for a chance at fucking Jeff's roommate?"
"Well, I hope it would be more than fucking. I did say I was in love."
Gareth doesn't get it. The only thing he's ever loved is his drum set -- and he can't marry that. Not even in bumfuck Indiana.
He goes back to ignoring Gareth and focuses on Jeff. He braces his hand on his shoulders again and slinks down to his knees. He's not above begging. Not for this. Not for the angel that is Steve who is probably wondering where he is right now.
"Jeff," Eddie says, hitting the pavement. He retracts his hands from Jeff's shoulders and clasps them together in prayer. He's making a scene.
"Get up, you're making a scene," Jeff hisses, yanking him back to his feet. Eddie goes willingly and Jeff huffs. "Alright, alright. Let me think."
"You can't seriously be considering this," Grant chimes in. "Eddie's plan is shit. It'll never work."
"I know that!"
Eddie watches as Jeff paces in a circle with his eyes closed. If he wanted to, he could bolt right now. Grab a box and make a run for it. Lock himself and Steve in the room and not come out until he's sure Jeff won't rat him out. Holding Steve hostage might not be the best impression to give Steve though, so he stays put.
"Okay, how about this," Jeff says and Eddie gives him his undivided attention. "The two of us are going to go back to my dorm and we're going to set the record straight--"
"No! That's--"
"Eddie," Jeff says, firmly. "If you really do love my roommate or well, you want to eventually love him. You have to tell him the truth."
Jeff's right. He's always right that's why he's going to college on a scholarship and Eddie's not. But he doesn't like it. Steve's going to think he's a total weirdo and he'll never get a chance to see what's actually under those tight ass pants.
Still, Jeff's right.
"Fine."
Steve really is an angel because he doesn't even bat an eye at the truth. He does laugh, but Eddie doesn't mind that. He wishes he had his cassette recorder and a mic so he could record it. It's music to his damn ears, and he knows a thing or two about music.
Jeff and Steve hit it off and Eddie tries not to pout about it as he continues lugging in box after box. When Eddie's van is finally empty, Grant and Gareth meet up with them in Jeff's room. Steve introduces himself and Eddie can tell they're both silently judging him.
Yes, this is the dude he would risk going to jail for, Gareth. Eddie thinks, he hopes Gareth gets the message in the glare he shoots his way. He thinks he does.
It turns out Steve also has a best friend who just moved in, too. She's in a different building than them, but he's meeting up with her for pizza at the parlor down the street. He invites them all to go and Eddie says yes on behalf of all of them a little to quickly.
When they get there, Steve introduces them all -- Jeff, Gareth, Grant. He gets all their names right, even Gareth, but when he gets to Eddie, he smirks. "And this," he says, smiling as he slings an arm around Eddie's shoulder. "This is not-Jeff my not-roommate."
"Hi, Not Jeff," Robin says.
Eddie laughs and introduces himself to her with his real name and Robin nods before her eyes lock on with Steve. He can tell they're non-verbally communicating with each other. It's not unlike the way he is with the boys. One look is all it takes sometimes for them to know what he's thinking.
It's weird watching it happen from the outside and especially difficult when he's still stuck under Steve's arm. Not that he minds that part not at all.
Finally, her lips quirk up into a smile and she pulls her gaze from Steve, letting it land on Eddie. At the exact same time, Steve's name gets called and he excuses himself to get pizza, leaving the two of them alone.
Robin's smile falters just a bit as she takes a step closer to him, replacing the spot where Steve just was. "Just so you know, I'm obsessed with Murder, She Wrote. If you hurt him, I know where to hide your body."
Eddie doesn't have time to even think of a retort before she's scampering off to help Steve with the pizzas.
He might not be enrolled in college, but he has a strange feeling he's going to spend a lot of time up here from now on.
#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#jeff stranger things#gareth emerson#unnamed freak#steve harrington fic#eddie munson fic#college au#stranger things#stranger things fic#and they were NOT roommates#dani writes
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hiii could i pls get hocus pocus rolls, pumpkin patch brownies and a dead velvet cake with a side of doctor pepper, white claw, pepsi zero and a gummy bear cocktail served by lando?? love ur fics!!
halloween bakery - bakery menu
the halloween menu is available until nov 2nd! so get those orders in during the meantime! thank you to everyone who has submitted, i'm trying to get them done in a timely manner! writing these prompts has allowed me to help manage some of my seasonal depression & chronic pains.
hocus pocus rolls: "next year you're wearing something that covers more." + pumpkin patch brownies: "you should've worn something a little thicker. you're going to catch a cold." + dead velvet cake: "we can't fuck right now. we have to hand out candy!" + doctor pepper: university au + white claw: slutty costumes + pepsi zero: rough sex + gummy bear cocktail: possessive behavior served by lando norris (formula one)!!
tags: smut/pwp, university au, slutty costumes, possessive behavior, rough sex, football (soccer) player!lando, protected sex, missionary style
"it's so cold tonight!" you yelped as you walked with your boyfriend to the house that he lived in with the rest of the football team. even though you were wearing a light jacket, the wind cut through it.
lando had a possessive hand on your lower back as the two of you walked across campus as the sun went down. he pulled at the back of the jacket a little and said, "you should've worn something a little thicker. you're going to catch a cold."
"well, they said it was going to be plus ten, so i thought this would be enough!"
lando remarked, "i think it would've been fine if you didn't wear such a thin costume." he gave your ass a quick squeeze, feeling the cheap material of the outfit under his palm.
lando knew the costume was slutty. how could he not? the jacket you wore couldn't cover up just how much that costume revealed. you were dressed as a cheerleader this year, and while that was a fantasy for lando. he would've preferred if the outfit wasn't being pranced around the house.
he was on the couch during the party. he was dressed in his football uniform and that was his 'costume' with his windbreaker jacket over it. he eyed you up and down as you chatted and drank. you looked cute. adorable even. your charm pulled people in.
there was a knock on the door and you went to answer it. your heels clicked against the hardwood floor but was drowned out by the loud music. lando got up from the couch and was close behind you. when you opened the door to hand out candy to those not invited to the party. he wrapped you up in his jacket.
"lando!" you yelped as the mini chocolate bars fell out of your hand
"next year you're wearing something that covers more." he then pulled you away from the door which caused you to flail as the candy fell from your hands, "you look too good, babe. i think that's enough for their eyes." he said as he hauled you upstairs.
you swore you heard lando's teammate, oscar, laugh over the thump of the music. you whined, "we can't fuck right now. we have to hand out candy!"
when lando got you to the bedrooms upstairs, he wrapped his strong arms around you, "someone else can do it. let the captain or someone else. i don't care. i just need you right now." he said. it was hard to hide an erection in those shorts.
lando's room was nice, but you had little time to admire the photos of you he had pinned to the wall before you were on the bed. you bounced on it as you fell on top of it. your breasts bounced and it only made lando more hungry for you.
"there's my little cheerleader." he said as he cupped his cock in his shorts, "you come to every game with my number across your pretty tits. you wear my last name like its yours." he chuckled before he pulled the jersey top off, "you hoping for a ring after graduation."
you blushed and wanted to push him away, but he pulled you in closer. you giggled when he kissed you, "i think you're buying ring before i can even think about it." you reached down and touched his cock in his shorts before they were pulled off and sent to the ground.
he chuckled before his lips touched your neck, "well, when you're my wife. this little outfit will be for my eyes only. i don't need all of the school to have their eyes on you. hungry like animals." you moaned when his kisses continued.
lando knew how to make you feel good, the kind of toe curling feeling that made it very easy for him to get you out of your costume. at least he didn't tear the thing off of you! his kisses continued as his clothed cock brushed against you. you knew he was painfully erect.
"my angel." he said, "prettiest girl on campus. fuck, you drive me crazy." he groaned a little bit when he eventually got his briefs off and let him rubbed his achy cock against you, "you have no idea how crazy you drive me."
you moaned, "please, lando."
you knew what everyone adored your boyfriend, he was great at what he did on the field and in the classroom. but he only had eyes for you, he yearned for you as his hands trailed up your sides. you were both naked on his bed, not the first time that had happened. but every time you were intimate with your boyfriend it felt special.
"i want you, i want you to badly." he got you onto your back and hiked your hips up against him where you wrapped your legs around his waist. he leaned forward and grabbed a condom from nightstand. you two had to play it safe, you were both still in school.
you replied, "i love you."
"i love you too, fuck, you look too perfect in the costume. i didn't know something could fit you so well." he chuckled as he leaned back a little to get the condom on.
you felt anticipation run through you as you laid out under him. you admired him. his toned body and bright smile. you could make out the pink in his cheeks from the immense pleasure between you two. to be fucking in the quietness of his bedroom while there was a party outside.
"i don't want you to have anyone else." he said as he gave his cock a few strokes to make sure the condom was on there securely. he then loomed over you with his hands at your hips as he sank his cock into you. your toes curled and your back arched at the feeling of him.
you held onto the covers under you, the same covers that you picked out for him. the soft blue that went with the minimal decor of his bedroom.
lando loved you and respected opinions you had, even if it was something simple like a nice bed spread. because at the end of the day, he still got to fuck you against the covers. the bed squeaked a little bit and lando realized that he had to slow his pace down. but where he lacked in speed, he made up in strength. and he roughly fucked you, slowly, making you feel every inch of him as he buried over seven inches inside of your achy cunt.
he needed you just as much as you needed him. he felt like a winner when he played with you in the stands. you watched him put his all into football and you loved him dearly. he never though he'd get that with anyone else. so that was why he was so possessive at times. he didn't want to lose you, you were everything to him.
and you dressed as a slutty cheerleader wasn't soothing the growl in lando's soul as he rutted against you. you were just so beautiful and the words hung on his tongue, but he couldn't say the words as the feeling of pleasure rushed through his body.
"such a pretty girl." he said as he rocked against you. he loved the feeling of your legs around his waist, he thrusted up into you and you felt amazing.
the pace was rough enough that it made the curl of pleasure bloom in your gut. you knew only lando could make you feel this good, make your core throb with want as he fucked you. your noises got a little louder but lando leaned in to kiss you on the lips.
no need to cause a scene at the party tonight. but, lando knew that at the very least oscar knew what you two were up to. you moaned against the kiss and wrapped your arms around him as he worked your body further. you shifted under his grip on you which only spurred him on further to make a mess of your pretty pussy.
"you look so good under me." he said, "no other guy can have you like this. only me." he chuckled a little, his voice tight from the pleasure as he worked his hips against you. you groaned a little louder as you clung to him, "part of me wants them to know, to all know exactly how you make me feel.
his words curled something in you and you felt the jump of lust inside of you. the pleasure coursed through you as the two of you fucked on the bed. your costumes were left discarded to be picked up in the morning. if you left the room before the party was over, you'd be wearing lando's clothes. not that slutty costume.
"please, lando." you whined as the pleasure worked through you. you knew from the first time he made you cum with his fingers and tongue alone that you'd be in for a world of pleasure with your boyfriend by your side.
"i always make you feel good, babe." he said with tenderness in his voice. he continued to fuck you, he grabbed your hips once more and hiked them up further to get a better angle of your sweet cunt.
the pace staggered, and the pace quickened despite the noise. it didn't help that the two of you were getting louder as you approached your climax. he whispered filthy nothings into your ear, about how hot you looked and how good he wanted to make you feel. it allowed the heat to bloom in your core as you felt orgasm wash over you.
you whined and arched you back, before you could get too loud, your ever loving boyfriend kissed you on the lips tightly. he continued to move against you, heavy, rough strokes that left you feeling on cloud nine. he came soon after with a heavy stroke and you both felt amazing.
"shit, babe."
you both laid out on the bed while the thump of the music downstairs reverberated through the bedroom. you both laid in each other's grasp and softly kissed. lando had gotten rid of the condom already and you two just laid under the covers together.
eventually you heard a knock on the door and oscar's voice, "hey, mate. party's wrapping up, i know you're busy with your girlfriend, but we need all the man power can get to get everyone out."
lando looked at you and kissed you on the cheek before he got out of bed to get dressed. before he left the room he said to you, "stay here, and don't put that costume on unless you want to limp back to your dorm tomorrow." and gave you a wink <3
#bunny writes#halloween bakery#reader insert#formula 1#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction#f1 x reader#formula one smut#f1 smut#lando norris imagine#lando#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando smut#lando x reader#ln4 smut#ln4 fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader#ln4 fic#ln4#halloween fic
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=͟͟͞♡ Healing Hearts =͟͟͞♡
=͟͟͞♡ Pairings:-Doctor Gojo x Intern F!Reader
=͟͟͞♡ Contents/warnings- Medical procedures, crazy sexual tension, lots of cussing, light angst, tons of humor, workplace relationship, the hospital is lowkey slutty lol. Reader 26, Dr. Gojo 34, small age gap- Grey's vibes ✨️
=͟͟͞♡ Word Count- this chap- 7.5k
=͟͟͞♡ Summary- You are the top Surgical Doctor intern, along with Maki, Yuta and Toge. You all are exhausted from passing the first month, sixteen plus hour days, days you don't even go home, all to get a top spot with the star Surgeon, Dr. Gojo, your resident doctor and boss. Or as you call him, Dr. Hojo. He's takes nothing serious but his surgeries it seems, and has a reputation for being a player, but he has that top spot, so you want to prove your worth! You just have to ignore those stupid butterflies he gives you, and those pretty blue eyes, along with his interest in you, and focus!
♡ Comment to get added to the tag list ♡
=͟͟͞♡ Part One =͟͟͞♡ Playlist =͟͟͞♡ Masterlist
♡ Part Two ♡
“Doctor, you should call it. The time of death.” Comes Miwa’s voice, soft and sweet, as you’re pumping your hands tirelessly over this woman’s chest.
The woman had a damn baby right in the hospital nursery, having had a placental abruption, they had gotten the baby out in time on the maternity ward, but then she lost too much blood, and they’d brought her here. You've pumped countless times, your elbows are locked, your arms are aching, there are tears sticking to your cheeks that you don’t know where they came from.
You’re counting, one, two, three… to thirty, then scowl up at the nurse assistant now. “She’s not dead yet, now do the breaths!”
The assistant squeezes the blue bottle, frowning at you in concern. “It’s been three minutes, the patient is likely gone.”
“Don’t tell me to just give up on her. I won’t. Charge em up.” You turn and say to Miwa now, and she sighs. “I said…” You’re pumping so hard you feel her ribcage just barely crack, but you can’t stop, she’s flat lined and she has a damn baby. “I said charge them. Thirty joules! C’mon, Yula…”
The patient’s name was Yula, her name was Yula.
You keep repeating it to yourself as you work over her, hopelessly staring at the screen, praying to see a blip, to see anything. You’ve already had to call time of death for patients, but something in this got you, in knowing that the baby wouldn’t even know her own mother. In knowing that she got here just in time to save her baby, only to fall unconscious.
You’re nearing four minutes, you realize with a panic, and you notice Miwa has not charged the paddles. “Doctor, you should-”
“Are you telling your doctor what to do?” You demand, breathless, and she pouts then, thin brows drawing together.
“If she says charge them, fucking charge them. Thirty joules, now.” Comes Doctor Gojo’s voice, deep and stern, as he steps into the room, glaring over at Miwa, who now suddenly decides that she will charge the paddles. You’d roll your eyes if you weren’t compressing over and over on Yula, exhaustion already setting in.
“Thank you, Dr. Gojo.” You manage, trembling with your effort, and he gently pushes you out of the way, you shake out your numb arms.
“You get the paddles, intern, okay. How long?” He asks.
“Almost four minutes, Gojo, she's crazy!” Miwa says. Your jaw clenches.
“Did I ask you anything?” He demands then, and the room goes silent, Gojo looks right at you, seriously, when you get the paddles and then he moves his hands, as you shock Yula’s chest now.
A blip.
“Please, please…” You whisper, choking up, and then the blip dies off. “She just had two blood transfusions, we need to-”
“Doctor, she’s been at it too long.” Miwa says. “She’s going to have no brain function if we go one more minute.”
“So we give her one more minute!” You shout at her, you never shout, you never break this composure you try to have, but you’re exhausted, weak, thank god Gojo’s pumping over her, his strong arms working faster than even you could.
“Hey, intern, look at me.” You look at Gojo then, at his pretty face as he’s working over her, his white hair falling over his forehead, he nods at the paddles. “Just breathe, yeah? Charge them to forty five.”
“Yes, Sir.” You manage, taking a breath, then you open your eyes, and look at the screen one more time, taking the defibrillator paddles, and shocking her chest, her entire body jolts. The room is dead silent, then you hear it, a heartbeat, a pulse on that machine, a steady beep… beep… beep…
You start sobbing in relief, uncaring what anyone thought at that moment. Doctor Gojo checks for signs of brain activity, rubbing her throat then, feeling her pulse. He grins at you, brightening that room with those glinting white teeth. He gestures for you to come over now, as Yula barely opens her eyes, gasping for breath then, leaning up on her elbows.
“What… where’s my baby?” She whispers, her lips are blue, but she’s talking, cognizant, aware. You feel chills through your body, goosebumps you rub gingerly with sore arms.
The first thing she asks, her baby. She’s gonna be a damn good mom, and she gets to be a mom. You push back thoughts of your own mom, taking a breath to finally speak.
“Your baby is nice and healthy, she’s strong. Like her mom.” You say softly, holding her hand delicately in your own, the nurses are unhooking her from the plugs in the wall, wrapping tubes and wires now, so that they can take her to get checked on Doctor Gojo’s orders.
“Oh thank goodness, oh…” She’s blinking tears now, and she looks to Doctor Gojo, who is smiling softly at her.
“She saved your life.” Gojo says, and you shake your head.
“He did, truly.”
“Well, a little, but mostly her.” He nudges you a bit playfully, and she’s smiling, holding her hands out to both of you.
“Thank you both so, so much. Thank you.” The nurses who all were not listening are quiet now, but you don’t blame them, many of them have done this for years, and you were new.
But something feels so good knowing she is okay, that she will live to see her baby, a fucking rush knowing you saved her, that Doctor Gojo had helped you, despite you going against certain protocol. You look up at him now, and his lips part as he studies you, seriously.
“We will get you to some tests, then you can hold your baby. How’s that sound, Miss Yula?” Satoru says, turning his attention to her, and she nods, grinning so big. She’s pale, she looks weak, but she’s strong and she’s alive.
“Thank you both so much. I can’t wait to meet my baby! Was it a…” Your heart pounds now, realizing she didn’t even see the baby yet.
“It’s a boy. You will see him very soon.” They wheel her away, Miwa is about to leave when Gojo pauses her.
“You will not do that again, I don’t care if she’s new, she is your doctor. Do you understand?” He asks, he’s quiet, so no one hears, and she is blinking back tears now, lip trembling.
“You’re being mean to me.” You try not to scoff, acting like you can’t hear a thing she says, Satoru doesn’t hide his scoff.
“Mean? It’s lives we’re talking about, not personal things.” He says, dropping his voice even quieter, as you work on putting in orders for medicines for Yula, you pretend you don’t hear, but something in you is curious.
“She’s insane.”
Ouch.
“She’s my best intern, and I like insane.” You can’t lie about how elated you are when you hear him. Doctor Gojo might come off as silly, or goofy, but he was the best, and the praise meant so much, even if insane may not be a compliment, from him it seemed like one. “How many times have I pulled a stunt like that?”
“You’re Doctor Gojo.”
“She went through the same schooling, she earned her place here. I am disappointed. I’ll have to assign you elsewhere if you keep on with it, you’ve repeatedly not listened to her. Understood?”
She looks at you, then looks down, nodding. “I get it, fine… but, can I see you later?” Her voice drops another octave, just a breath really.
“I’m busy today, but just know I’m not mad at you, okay? Just you need to trust her judgment, I only brought the best here.” He has his hands on her shoulders gently, she nods, then walks by you.
“I’m sorry. I’ve just seen… a lot of situations where that doesn’t work.” She says, and you shake your head.
“It’s okay, I am kind of batshit crazy to keep going so long. I think I really… because of the baby…”
“I understand. I’ll trust you next time.” She whispers, giving you a little hug now, surprising you. “You saved her.”
“Thank you, Miwa.” You give her a little smile as she leaves, and it’s just you and Satoru now, as the heavy hospital door slams shut. Satoru has his hands in the pockets of his white lab coat, leaning against the counter of the hospital room, looking at you. “I know, I know… I was reckless.”
“Completely reckless, and honestly she’s right. You’re insane.” He says, you flush then, looking down.
“Is this going to fuck up my chance to scrub in? I’m so sorry-”
“Why did you go so hard?” He’s suddenly right in front of you, the pounding of adrenaline racing through your body makes you overheated, lightheaded, to the point you feel a little dizzy.
“She just had that baby, Satoru. Fuck… Gojo. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t mind.” He brushes your hair back, it’s fallen out of its bun. “You want me to fix your hair?”
“You don’t have to-”
“I asked if you wanted me to.” You nod then, turning, and Satoru is taking your hair out of your bun now, gathering it gently. “So you wanted to try insane shit because she had a baby?”
“Yes. Sorry I’m such a mess.”
“You just gave four hundred compressions, you should be a mess. Now, is it just because you love babies so much?” He asks, long fingers massaging your scalp, you can’t help but shut your eyes. It feels so good.
“I do love babies, but no. My mother died having me, from the same thing, placental abruption. I was in the NICU for a long, long time. My dad had to care for me alone, poor guy had no clue what to do. I snapped, honestly, it wasn’t professional in any way, Gojo.”
He’s quiet, as he fixes your hair back up, now his big, sure hands are massaging your sore arms, you exhale, tilting your neck side to side. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, I never knew her. All I have are stories, I never even got held in her arms, just like Yula’s baby would have been.” Your voice is hoarse, your body is tired, you feel his gentle touch and crave more of it.
“You call your patients their names, not ‘patient’.”
“Yes. They have names, we should use them. Don’t you?”
“I do. But… you know that you are letting your emotions guide you, rather than your brain.”
“I’m so sorry-”
“I like that.”
“What now!?” You turn to look at him in shock, and he’s very serious, more serious than you’re used to seeing him. Even in surgery, his confidence carried over, and he could crack jokes as you would watch him through the glass. You were always amazed by that, the confidence, the skill, the ability to laugh even.
“I like that you said fuck protocol and tried your best to save someone, shit that’s why I’m as good at what I do as I am. I said fuck all these rules. Sometimes saving someone means trusting your gut.” He’s tilting your chin up, and for some insane moment you want to kiss him, is it the adrenaline, is it his praise, is it your heart racing so much you’re stupid?
You eye his plush lips, barely registering his words.
“You like that I’m too emotional? Isn’t that the opposite of what I’m supposed to be as a doctor?” You whisper, and he shakes his head then, leaning close.
“You’re unique, special. I find you intriguing actually, and exactly what I want in an intern. I’ll have to cover for your ass though with Yaga.”
“Ugh, I know.” You sigh now. “You’re about to take over as chief of surgery, aren’t you? I don’t want to fuck anything up.”
“Nah, no worries there, I have been getting away with shit for eight years. I’m the best so they do whatever the fuck I want to keep me.” He smirks, and you smile up at him, enjoying the close proximity far too much. “You owe me.”
“Anything! Oh, nothing pervy.”
His lips quirk up. “How dare you assume.”
“Well, Miwa is probably upset, you may not get a bj.” He snorts then, dropping your chin and rolling his pretty blue eyes.
“She absolutely was in the wrong to question you, and she knows. As for… well we don’t have a relationship, I don’t really date.”
You raise a brow curiously. “You just fuck?”
“Lots of fucking.” You snort, shaking your head.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You should try it, you’re too stiff, you should loosen up.”
“Bet you- actually, you know what, no. I’m too happy to argue. Maybe I should go relieve some stress, shit.” Gojo laughs again, and you giggle now. “I’m losing my mind at this career.”
“That’s what good doctors do.” He taps your nose.
“Why do you do that?” You ask curiously.
“You’re cute when it scrunches up. Now, I want you to go out to eat with me sometime, that’s all I ask.” You sigh, tilting your head.
“Why, you’re Dr. Hojo, you can have anyone go out to eat with you, and do much more than I would, I’m sure.”
“Maybe I just wanna know what makes you tick, intern. Especially now that I saw you in action like that.” You nervously bite your lip, as you think of just being around him outside of this hospital, what would that even be like?
“Sure, we can go out to eat some time. Are you going to the party tomorrow?” You ask, and he nods.
“I’ll be there to make it fun. Now, you go put in your notes, I’ll go mitigate this with Yaga before it blows up.” He gently rubs your shoulder, walking past you now towards the door.
“Doctor Gojo?” He turns then. “Thank you, so much.”
Satoru smiles at you, nodding his head a bit. “You’re welcome intern, you owe me though, I’ll be annoying you about it.”
“Can’t wait.” You tease, he chuckles as he walks by, you nearly collapse, so overwhelmed, plopping down into the rolling chair and covering your face.
You saved someone. That eclipses it all, this is what you wanted to do, always, to save people, like your mom that day. No, not everyone is going to get saved, but if you can just do your fucking best, you feel good. You look at your watch, only one hour left of this insane day.
The night of the party
You’re rushing to get out of the hospital, to hurry and get to the party Maki, Yuta and Toge have started without you. You brought party clothes with you, so you quickly change into the outfit, a slinky little red dress that glitters even under the icky fluorescent lights above. You run over to the mirror, slathering on some concealer, mascara, and lip gloss.
You then dig through your bag, retrieving a brush, running it through your hair and attempting to look human, to look…
“Damn, intern, you look hot.” Gojo’s voice comes behind you, you gasp, jerking and dropping the brush, it clatters to the floor. He smirks at you.
“You scared me, shit!” He bends down, grabbing your brush, and for a moment his breath hits your bare thighs, you tremble as he looks up at your bare legs, taking his time to stand.
“Nice stems.” He says, you roll your eyes, snatching up the brush.
“Oh hush.” You turn, running it through your hair once more, peering at Gojo’s reflection, feeling how small you are compared to him in that mirror. “You bringing Miwa to the party?”
“She’ll be there I’m sure, but I told you, we aren’t dating. One blow job doesn’t make a girlfriend.”
“Only one, hmm? You have more stones to collect.” He chuckles, shaking his head, you turn then, slinging your bag over your shoulder, far too close to him. “God, you always smell good.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing!” You panic, shoving past him, and he is grinning far too big now, taking off his white lab coat, revealing those strong muscles, veins popping out under the pale skin, and since when are veins attractive!?
Everything about him is.
Be immune to the charm.
“I wanna show you something before you go, can you wait just a second? Or so eager to get to the party?” He asks, going to his locker, sliding off his shirt, your throat goes dry, you look quickly away.
“Just eager to make sure they don’t destroy my house.”
“Are you giving me a tour of your room?”
“No infinity stones to be found here.” He snorts, you look back and see him in his boxers, looking away again.
“All right, I’m decent. You’re cute when you blush.”
“I’m just… overheated.”
“Uh huh.” You look to see him now, as he shuts his locker and he’s wearing a dark blue dress shirt, black slacks and boots, he runs a brush through his hair, you’re entranced as his silky strands slide through so effortlessly. “There, all done, how do I look?”
“You look good, Gojo. You always do though.”
“Sure do.” You can’t help but laugh, he’s ridiculous. He grabs his wallet, shoving it in his pocket, holding out a hand. You look at it. “Come on.”
“Oh, fine. It better be good I’m already running late.” You put your hand in his, and he drags you down several halls, until you’re both in an elevator, still holding hands, you pull yours away, glaring at him. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Gojo.”
“Ouch, you wound me, mean little intern.” He puts a hand on his chest. “I’m so offended, I didn’t say that to you!”
“You fuck whoever, and that’s cool, I get it. You’re hot, and this job is stressful as shit.”
“You think I’m hot, hmm?” He leans close, far too close, you glare at him again, pushing on his chest, ignoring how good his muscles feel under your palms.
“You know you are.”
“Yeah, I do. And of course I wanna fuck you, look at you. But I also just want to… get to know you.” He cups your face, and your eyes shut for just a moment. “I know you’re a goodie goodie.”
“Am not.”
“So you’re freaky?”
“You won’t find out.”
“Oh no?”
“Nope.” He leans closer, and your chin tilts up, lips just a breath from him, so close you taste his sweet breath.
“Then why do you look like you wanna kiss me so bad, intern?” He murmurs, you lean even closer, before the elevator stops, and you step back, struggling to compose yourself, turning away. “Aw, you okay?”
“Fuck you, Dr. Hojo.”
He laughs once more. “Come on, I’ll stop teasing.”
“You’re such an ass.” You huff, stomping out, then pausing when you realize where you are. “The maternity ward?”
He smiles, hand now gently holding your inner arm, you ignore how good his hand feels on your bare skin. “I think you should see something.”
Soon he’s led you to a room, then you see them.
Yula holding her little baby.
“Oh my god.” You smile up at him, he studies you carefully, nodding over to where they’re sitting in the hospital bed.
“Go say hi, you deserve it.” His hand is at the small of your back, as you walk inside the room, Gojo stays at the doorway, watching you. Yula lights up when she sees you, grinning so big.
“You downplayed what you did, everyone is calling you a miracle worker, Doctor.” She says to you, you shake your head, stopping in front of them, looking at the beautiful baby boy, his cherubic little cheeks hollowing as he sucks on a bright blue binkie, then you look back at Yula.
“It was nothing, just my job.”
“No, it wasn’t nothing. If not for you… I…” She blinks back tears now, and you barely hold in your own.
“Don’t upset yourself, please. You have been through a lot, mama.”
“You should hold him!” Yula says.
“Me? I…”
“Here.” She sits up carefully, and you pick up the little boy, Yula smiles at Gojo and waves him in. “His name is Gojo.”
“What?” Gojo blinks a bit himself, coming to stand beside you and looking down at him, Gojo carefully brushes the baby’s cheek, his hands bigger than the little baby almost. You smile up at him, and for a moment, your eyes lock, then you both flush, looking away. “After me?”
“Yes, you were amazing. I’d have named it after you if it was a girl!”
“Oh, goodness. He is handsome, huh Gojo?” You coo to the baby, Gojo’s hand again comes to the small of your back, he is leaning over your shoulder, looking down at the bundle in your arms.
“Feels good, doesn’t it? Knowing you did a good thing here.” He murmurs in your ear, and you nod then, smiling back at him.
“Thank you for this, Gojo. And thank you, Yula.”
“Thank you both, you're getting Christmas gifts from me.” You both laugh softly, saying your goodbyes, and when the elevator closes again, you let the little tears fall. Satoru swipes at them, and you sigh.
“Fuck it.” You yank him down by his shirt, kissing his lips, expecting it to feel nice, or good… but instead, it’s electrifying, as if little shocks are radiating throughout your entire body. Satoru exhales, deepening the kiss, pressing you against the wall, hands at your waist, peering back to look down at you, to take a breath.
“Fuck…” He murmurs softly, brushing your cheek with his long fingers, running a thumb over your lower lip. “What did I do to earn something that sweet?”
“You did a lot for me. Thank you.” He kisses your lips again, but now his tongue slips in, and you feel desire pooling in your core, especially when his hands are trailing up your sides, and his tongue is dancing with yours. You pull back, gasping. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t fucking apologize. Please.” He kisses you deeper now, and you lose yourself for that moment, his teeth on your bottom lip, your arms wrapping around his neck as he bends low. Your hands entwine in that silky hair, the hair you have wondered how good would feel under your fingers, his thigh coming between your thighs. “Oh my god…”
“Mmm.” You whine out, pathetic, hips arching up, and you feel him, his hard thigh, those hands overtaking you, tasting him, a hand enwrapping in your hair.
“You’re so hot there…” He murmurs, a hand sliding down your tummy, making it tremble, and you are questioning everything, until the elevator dings, and you both pull away quickly, but Satoru looks completely affected, eyes dilated, his breaths heavy as they come out, mirroring you.
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Yeah you should have.”
“No… but thank you. Really.” You touch his shoulder gently. “I will not be an infinity stone.”
“Think you’d be the whole gauntlet.”
“Oh whatever. Forget that, please.”
“No way.”
You both are walking out to your cars then, you’re fucking insane, you kissed Satoru Gojo, your boss! You kissed him. He’s walking you to your car now, opening your door, and you can barely meet his pretty eyes, so embarrassed. “I really shouldn’t have done that.”
“You were feeling something, emotions, gratitude… attraction.” He practically says the word like a caress, you feel it physically. “More probably. What’s wrong with feeling things?” He asks then, and you sigh.
“Feeling things for someone who you can’t be with, that sounds like torture.”
“Is it all that?”
“Yes. You should… forget it.”
“I’m not forgetting it. I’ll see you there?” You nod, shy as fuck now, surprised at yourself, touching your lips when you shut the car door, his kiss is lingering on your lips, like some drug you crave.
You gasp when he’s still standing there, grinning at you through your window. You roll it down, scowling. “Go on!”
“You were thinking about it.” He says in a sing-song voice.
“Was not!”
“Mmm, naughty intern-”
You rev up your loud ass car. “Can’t hear you!” He’s grinning far too big when you drive off, heart pounding.
You kissed your boss, and now you’re going to a party with him?
You have lost your mind?
“Bitch, you look so hot.” Maki runs over to you, shoving a questionable red solo cup in your hands, making you wince.
“Bad memories. You look hot too!” You kiss her cheek now, as there are people all over your house, dancing, laughing, most of whom you have no clue who they are. Some loud bass music is blaring, and it’s giving you a bit of a headache, but the energy is good, and you can see your roommates enjoying themselves.
Yuta is taking shots with Toge, you both walk over as Maki takes a sip from her own cup, her eyes sparkling. “Drink it!”
“Oh fine.” You take a sip, feeling the sweet, fruity drink. At first it’s fine, but then you can feel the burn of the alcohol. “Not bad.”
“Yeah, yeah, chug it bitch.”
“No!”
“Then take shots, pretty.” Yuta says, and you giggle, shaking your head. “What, you look pretty? Both of you do.”
“Pretty.” Toge says, blush on his cheeks when you kiss one, then Yuta’s.
“Aww thank you all.” Toge runs off then, leaving you confused, staring at Yuta and Maki who are whispering to each other. “What’d I do!?”
“He’s got it bad.” Maki says, seriously.
“What? No.”
“He does, poor guy. No chance.” Yuta says, you sigh.
“You all are silly, he does not. I would know, I live with him. He’s just a little… shy sometimes.”
“Exactly. You’re so evil to men.” You stick your tongue out at Yuta.
“Whatever! Am not.” You sip your drink, it starts tasting less biting as the alcohol warms your tummy.
“You’re mean as shit to Gojo. He’s got puppy dog eyes for you.” Maki says, as Satoru now walks in, Suguru right next to him.
“He has eyes for everyone.” You flush then, remembering the elevator vividly, as Satoru’s eyes catch yours across the room. “He’s my boss. Our boss.”
“The entire hospital is fucking.” Maki says, earning your look at her and Yuta, your eyes narrowing, assessing how close they are. “Not us!”
“Oh, you two so are. Since when!?” They both flush and look away, you cross your arms now, leaning forward. “In my house, terrible children.”
“Fuck off, you’re not our mom.” Maki sticks her tongue out.
“How long!”
“Like two weeks, chill.” Yuta clears his throat.
“I see something… over there.” Is all he says, then he leaves, and you scooch closer to Maki now.
“I tell you something, you tell me.”
You lean close, looking back at Satoru, Miwa is bouncing over to him, but for some reason he keeps looking at you, eyes shouldn’t be so intense you see them across the whole living room and dining room!? You have a pretty big house, but it seems small with this many people, overheating the area.
“Fine, we’ve had sex a lot, but only for a couple weeks, we’re not labeling it anything.”
“Oh…” You struggle to understand how your best friends are… hooking up. It doesn’t surprise you completely, though. “Not dating?”
Maki rolls her green eyes. “It doesn’t always have to be a relationship, you’re so old school.”
“Am not. I just… have a five date rule or so.”
“Bet Doctor Hojo breaks it.”
“Maki!”
“Time for your secret, and a shot.” She pours you both tequila, you shiver as you remember college with Maki, the amount of nights you’d both held each other’s hair as you got sick. “Don’t wuss out, you’re the hero doctor now.”
“Am not at all. Fine, bottoms up.” You both take shots down your throat, biting on your lemons now. “Blegh.”
“Baby.”
“I won’t tell you then!” You hiss, and she yanks you to her.
“You will!”
“Oh fine. I kissed him, there I said it.” You whisper, looking around fervently, as if someone can hear you whisper over booming music, Maki barely hears you, but she sees your gaze darts to Satoru, and his gaze hits you.
“Oh fuck… that’s so messy, you gonna hit it?” You shush her as he starts to walk toward you all, luckily he keeps getting stopped, everyone loves Doctor Gojo and him and Doctor Geto are getting swarmed by nurses and interns.
“No, no… it was a kiss. Maki he was so great to me yesterday, I think I really like him, but I can’t.”
“You can, just gotta be careful babes.”
“No, he’s… Maki he’s a slut.”
“Rude.” Sartoru says then, and you nearly spit out your drink, coughing then, Maki’s grin is huge, she pushes her glasses up, eyeing Gojo then.
“Hey Dr. Hunk.”
“It’s Dr. Hojo.” You glare at her, and Satoru slings an arm around your shoulders, lanky limbs overtaking you.
“She’s mean as hell, your bestie.” He says to Maki.
“She is, that's why I love her. Hmm, you should have shots with us!”
“Sounds good-”
“What, no!”
“Why? Scared I’ll out drink you?” He asks.”
“You absolutely could, I suck at drinking.”
“Even better, loosen you up-”
“Shots!” Maki hands you both shot glasses now, and you both down them, Satoru then bites a lemon and it’s far too sexy how he does, you feel your tummy clench just watching him suck one. “Hmm, I see… something over there.”
Maki dips now, leaving you alone with Satoru, and you don’t even know what to say, so nervous next to him. You keep looking at his lips, then down, and he surely notices, as they curl into a smirk. “You gonna give me the tour, pretty?”
“Pretty, thought I was just ‘intern’ to you.”
“You’re pretty, very pretty, little intern.” Satoru bars you against the counter now, and your hips shift side to side. “Aw, excited?”
“Shush. People can see!”
“Everyone’s fucking in this hospital.”
“No kidding.” You pout as you look at Yuta and Maki. “Some right in my own damn house.”
“You’re like an angry mom.”
“Hey!” You shove at him now, and then you see him sip a drink, watch that adam’s apple bob, and fuck…
Gojo’s gorgeous, and you haven’t had any in forever.
Usually you’re good, a nice smut story and a vibrator, but he does something to you, that makes you forget who you are, where you are. You still ease out of his trap now, sighing and shaking your head. “Not here.”
“Oh, not here? Are you planning on seducing me, intern?”
“Psh, you wish. I mean… we can talk somewhere else.”
“Talk, huh. That’s what the twenty somethings call it.”
“You’re so ridiculous, ugh… I mean… talk. Will Miwa get mad?” You ask, and he rolls his eyes.
“You really seem to think a blow job equals dating.”
“Yeah, well she’s already not a fan of me.” You take his hand now, walking him down the hall, where there are indeed people making out, including Miwa. You blink a bit then, and Satoru leans in close.
“Told you. The hospital is slutty.”
“Not me.”
“You’re so different.”
“Fuck off.” You laugh softly though, continuing through the hall, pointing at a room now. “Down there is the basement, where I hide my bodies.”
“Called it, serial killers have those steady hands.” You stick your tongue out, enjoying holding his hand far too much, he seems just as enamored as you, following you through each hall.
“There is Maki’s room, Yuta’s is there, and Toge’s is across from mine.”
“He’s in love with you, you know that yeah?”
“Why do people think that? He’s just a sweetie. And this… well this was my parents room, I just leave it be.” You murmur then, taking another sip of your drink, and Gojo frowns now.
“Can I see it?”
“Um… it’s all covered in sheets since forever, dusty and abandoned unfortunately so… nothing to see.”
“Curious if you look like your mom or dad.”
“Are you?” He nods a bit, and you bite your lip, shaking your head. “I can show you a picture of them, I have one in my room.”
“Dad’s gone too?” He asks, and you sigh, nodding, walking into your room, feeling the intimacy suddenly of such an action. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, really. My grandparents raised me. They’re good, they just moved out to Florida, retired.”
“You’re alone here?”
“No, I have my friends. Here, this was them.” You show him a little picture then, it’s frayed at the edges, of your mom and dad holding each other at prom. “They were really young here.”
“She was beautiful, you do look like her.” You get misty eyed at that, touching the picture, before shaking your head.
“Fuck you’re supposed to be here for fun, not me crying. What’s with me today?” Satoru turns you to him then, after you put the picture down, and you exhale, desire killing you, it’s like something is pulling you to him.
“Nothing is wrong with feeling things. I didn’t come here for a party, I came here to get to know you.”
“Why do you want to? Maybe I’m boring.”
“I doubt all that. So you tell me, intern, what do you want to do? Talk, look at pictures, give me a blow job?”
“As if!” He laughs then, and you realize it then... “You’re cheering me up, aren’t you Gojo?”
“Mmhmm.”
“You do that. A lot.”
“I’m glad.”
“You also annoy me.” Satoru’s pressing your back against your dresser, and you’re all too aware how hard his body is, how he’s muddling your mind. “What you wanna like… just fuck as friends or something?”
“I didn’t say that. You assume. Maybe I want to kiss you all night.” Your head falls back, Satoru is kissing you again, this time you let yourself go, feeling every bit of him, the kiss is more messy, more desperate than the elevator. Your teeth are nipping at his lower lip, earning a soft moan, as he grips your hips tightly, thumbs pressing into your pelvis.
“Mnh, we shouldn’t…”
“We shouldn’t. But… you’re really ready.”
“Ugh.” You’re a blushing mess now. “It’s been a while and… you’re really hot and…”
He chuckles. “You’re adorable. Let me make you cum, then, hmm?”
“Wh-what now?” You gasp when he’s picking you up, hoisting you on the dresser, spreading your thighs. “Gojo…”
“Satoru.”
“Doctor Hojo.”
He smirks, hands trailing up your thighs, your head falls back just so, hair cascading down your back, sighing at how good it feels. “You’re a brat.”
“You’re the bratty one. What do you mean just… get me off.”
“Stress relief. Why not let me help? I am a doctor.” You blush furiously, and he smiles. “Cute.”
“I’m not your patient…”
“Roleplay.”
“You kinky little- ah!” Satoru slides his hand between your thighs, cupping you where your panties are, and he pauses, mouth open slightly, snowy lashes lowering over dark blue eyes in the dim room.
“You’re that wet from kissing?” He whispers, you shut your eyes, taking his hand, with every intention of pulling it off, but you just keep it there, around his strong wrist, feeling his pulse flutter under your thumb.
“I don’t do this.”
“I’ll just finger you.”
“You gonna get me off with your fingers?” His smirk is now a wicked grin, his fingers slipping under your panties, finding you slick and hot. He exhales.
“I know anatomy extremely well. And no, it doesn’t have to change things, I can still be professional.” He slips a finger inside your pussy now, you’re clenching around him, moaning, covering your mouth then. “Fuck you’re tight.”
“Pro-profes… you!? Not… mmm… fuck it, yes, there!” You’re arching your hips up, he is watching your every move intensely, analyzing you like you’re a medical case for him to solve, every breath you take, every movement of your hips, the way your brows draw together. He’s crooking his finger just so, and you see stars, gushing all around his long finger that’s too fucking deep.
“There’s that spot.” He leans close, sliding two fingers inside now, your pussy greedily sucks it up, your hands clinging to his expensive dress shirt, his lips just an inch away. “It’s not on any anatomy, is it, this spot? But yours is easy to find, pretty, right there.” He hits it again, and you’re getting closer and closer, whining out, pulling him closer.
“Mpfh.” You can’t manage a syllable, it’s too good, the stretch, his nearness, you crave him so bad you can’t think.
“Want me to make you cum?” He asks, sultry voice as much of a caress as his soppy fingers.
You nod eagerly, then he kisses you, pulling your hips down, pumping his fingers in and out, hitting the spot over and over. “Satoru…”
“Fuck that sounds good from your mouth.” He kisses down your neck, before whispering in your ear. “So this is a place on the human anatomy, your clitoris. There it is, it’s a tiny little thing.”
“Fuck!” You’re clinging to him desperate, pathetic, as his other hand reaches down, thumb circling your clit. Your eyes lock then, his pupils are so big there’s just a ring of blue, his eyes almost look black, his cheeks flushed.
“When I use both, it can overstimulate you, can’t it?” You mindlessly nod, tears in your eyes as he’s working you. “Hear how wet you are?”
“Mmm…” You’re done with words, his long fingers are too good, and you can hear how wet you are in your room, the squishing sound as he pumps inside your little walls, and you’re soaking his hands.
“I feel it, there, your pussy is tightening up, your nipples are rock hard, you’re biting that lip. You’re about to cum for me, aren’t you?” He murmurs, studying you still, and then you shatter, earning his moan along with your cries, as you feel your orgasm hit so hard you can’t see, just clinging to his dress shirt wordlessly. “Fuck you’re pretty, look at you.”
“Satoru!” You barely manage to focus, when he’s rubbing your pussy up and down between your lips, you jerk you’re so sensitive, you damn near could come again. “Fuck, fuck…”
“Sensitive?” You weakly nod, and now he is sliding his two fingers inside his mouth, sucking, and your jaw drops, breasts heaving. “You’re so yummy.”
“I am?” You whisper, he nods, and takes his other hand that was on your clit, rubbing your own arousal on your lower lip.
“Taste yourself and see.”
You lick your lower lip tentatively, pussy still pulsing around nothing, then he growls, grabbing you, kissing you over and over. You’re a fucking mess, so weak now, you want to say fuck it, suck him, touch him, do anything to make him feel good, you want him inside you.
Your legs are wrapping around his narrow hips now, hands shaking when you’re unbuttoning his shirt, fuck you’re so ready you can’t even remember anything you said you would or wouldn’t do.
“Want you.” You whisper weakly, he exhales, big hands cupping your face.
“Yeah?” You nod again, and he’s kissing down your throat now, pulling you flush against him, your throbbing cunt right against where you feel him, his hard cock under his pants, you weakly grind, mind fuzzy from him. “You feel so good, shit I thought you didn’t-”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Shit…” You hop up now, adjusting yourself, looking in the mirror to see your fucked out, dilated eyes, all glittery, your cheeks flushed, your hair a mess from his hands. “I look like I got fucked, dammit.”
“You didn’t yet, imagine how you’d look when I got done with you.” He’s kissing down your neck now, images flying in your mind, as the door keeps knocking, then you hear Maki’s words.
“Someone passed out! We need you, please!” Maki’s words are like cold water, you and Satoru both rush out without a second thought. “Fuck… I’m sorry-”
“No, what’s wrong?” You and Gojo ask at the same time, she looks between you both for a moment.
“It’s embarrassing…” She admits.
“What is?” You ask, as she leads you to Yuta’s room, confusing you further.
“I may have been riding him and…”
Yuta is passed out, half naked on the bed. “Maki, did you kill him with your pussy!?”
“No! Maybe.”
Satoru chuckles, going up to him then, and peeking at his neck. “Did you all get freaky?”
“No!”
“Maki.” You glare at her, shutting the door now. She flushes, tilting her head back and sighing.
“I choked him, he likes it!”
“I think he’s just zonked from it. He’s responding fine. Hmm…” He says your name then, the man that just had you cumming on his fingers…
Fuck…
“Grab some ice.” You run down stairs, come right back up with a cup of ice, handing it to Satoru confusedly. “Watch and learn, interns.”
Satoru now throws the entire cup of ice on Yuta’s face, and he sputters, waking up and gasping. Satoru’s evilly chuckling, Maki is damn near in tears, and you’re watching with ongoing confusion, alcohol setting in, post bliss orgasm, thrown off that you just found Satoru throwing ice attractive.
“Thank you, shit!” Maki hugs Gojo tightly, as Yuta flushes, looking around at the three of you.
“Maki! I was fine.”
“You scared me!” She’s kissing him then, deeply, and Satoru and you gently walk back, you close their door with a quiet click, sighing and looking up at him.
“What made you think to do that?”
“I’ve had freaky sex.” He teases. “I’m kidding, I just saw the marks from her fingers on his throat, put two and two together.”
“You’re like Sherlock Holmes.” He shrugs then, and his phone starts buzzing, he frowns as he looks at it. “What’s wrong?”
“I gotta head out, nothing big.” He leans close, and you look down shyly, lashes casting shadows under your eyes.
“Then good night, and be safe?” You say, he nods, running a finger over your swollen lower lip then. “Satoru…”
“You still owe me a date, I’m no hussy. Can’t have that and not go out with me.” You feel far too good now, as he’s asking you out.
“But we shouldn’t.”
“And you shouldn’t have been insane yesterday, but it worked. Be a little crazy, just… a date.” You nod then, and he leans his forehead on yours. “Also, your anatomy? Perfect.”
Your pulse thrums in your neck, chest tightening as he says it. “No, certainly not perfect…”
“Mmm, it is, and I would know. An expert on female anatomy.”
“Well thank you, slutty doctor.” He snorts, pecking a kiss on your lips, one that you would never be able to get out of your head.
“I expect a better tour sometime.”
“Keep dreaming. But… lunch, I agreed.”
“Sunday work?”
“Yeah.”
“Text you then.” Satoru leaves then, and leaves you leaning on the hall, suddenly the door opens, and Maki and Yuta peek their heads out.
“A date!?”
“You should be passed out, freaky asses.” You shove them back in their room, running off to yours as they try to bombard you with questions, you lay on your back, staring up at your ceiling, the glow sticker stars from your childhood still decorating the ceiling, you never did take them off.
You like him, you really like him. But you need your career, it’s just beginning, and would this just fuck it all up? Could you keep this shit separated? You can’t do this, you can’t…
Your eyes shut, flitting images of Doctor Gojo enjoying your anatomy filling your mind, keeping you up half the damn night, as you hear it get quieter, assuming the party has died off. You lay on your side, looking out at the window, seeing the moonlight shining through just so.
Your phone goes off, and it’s your stupid ex, earning your scowl, as you delete it, but then a new message pops up.
Doctor Gojo: Let me know if you need anatomy lessons again, intern.
You snort, shaking your head.
You: You wish!
Doctor Gojo: Hmm, still taste you.
You: Oh my god, good night Doctor Hojo!!!
You hate that your heart hammers in your chest as he hearts your message.
You’re so fucked.
Taglist: @lost-resonance @lostfracturess @unfortunately-tia @allofffmypeaches @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine @antisocialinlw @meg3mis @miizuzu @nanasukii28 @zoeyflower @wstaley2 @bunheadusa @blue-musingss @ameliariddle @labelt-san @moncher-ire @jkslaugh97 @aldebrana @shadeowz @gojo1228 @victoriaaaa00 @jaeminaur @seeing-stars-alt
Part Three
#gojo x reader#satoru x reader#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#satoru gojo#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu satoru#jjk satoru#gojo x reader smut#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#doctor gojo#doctor satoru#doctor au#jujustu kaisen#jjk smut#gojo jjk#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu gojo
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You know all those Cults in Gotham?
Bet at least ONE of them could spring for both a Legit Magic User and a Cloning pod.
Because The Wayne's? Hearts of Gold. Long standing pains in the asses. Probably the only thing standing between this gods forsaken wasteland of a city and Their Dark Lord. For GENERATIONS no less!
It's sooooo obnoxious!
So they want to Curse Um dead. Just a good ol fashioned bloodline curse. Destroy um from within, etc. BUT! To do THAT? You kinda need a blood relative to sacrifice!
And Bruce is... well... rather infamously An Orphan With No Biological Kids (at that point).
So? What do you do? Make one, obviously. You send in some of your own on a Holy Mission. Honeypot that playboy! Get us a kid to sacrifice! Our God will reward you etc! But... FFS! What? Are brunettes not your TYPE or something?! Pretty lady! Throwing herself at you!!
TAKE THE BAIT!
But he DOESN'T. Because he's both really used to that behavior, as The Wayne Heir and a False Playboy, AND because? He's fuckin Batman. He can see through your schemes.
Okay.
Okay!
Plan B!
Get us some DNA. We'll CLONE the sucker. That should be doable, right?
........OH COME ON! How?!
Batman: [REDACTED] / Cultists: 0
Fuck it! This is impossible! How are we supposed too... *eyes drift over to the Wayne Family Private Graveyard* .......Idea? Ideeeeaaaa~! Someone get us a shovel!
So they, cultist bastards that they are? Fuckin rob a grave for some DNA.
OBVIOUSLY though, it can't be one of the more RECENT graves! He probably VISITS those! Watches them! No we gotta be SNEAKY! Get one a bit further back! Mwahahahaha! We're so brilliant! Our God is gonna give us SUCH a Good Grade in follower!
A thing that is both REAL and possible to achieve!
So, while a Weirdly FURIOUS Batman? Is just... VIOLENTLY breaking ALL of their bones? Cultist 17 is furiously digging like his life depends on it. Either somebody snitched or Batman was hunting them down! Either way?
Gotta! Get! That! DNA!!! *digs faster*
Ah HA! Got it!
Fucking SCATTER! Run you fools, RUN!!! *everyone bolts*
And AT LAST! They have it! Wayne DNA! Now? Pop that sucker into the machine and make us a baby! Too sacrifice! *relieved noises* Man, that was hard work you guys. But we DID it!
Except??
Theoretical Babies? And "Real, slowly forming in front of me and becoming a human child" type babies? VERY DIFFERENT psychologically. It's ONE thing to sacrifice a HYPOTHETICAL baby... but when you're the guy running and monitoring the Cloning machine? Watching it slowly form and come together into... into a CHILD?
You start asking questions of yourself. Of God.
Of what, EXACTLY, you are willing to do.
What lines you find yourself unwilling to cross.
And yeah, your life was SHIT before the cult. Yeah, you were alone. Adrift. Without purpose. Angry at the world for all of its ugliness and failings. But... sitting, alone, in a dark room? Nothing but the steady hum of machines and the cool light of that pod? You are left with nothing but time... and your thoughts.
And the baby.
The one... the one YOU made.
Almost... he's almost like a son, in a way. Your son. Floating there, innocent and unknowing. Destined to be born, only to die painfully, for a cause he could not even begin to understand. Because he's too young. Too small. Just... just a baby.
The baby YOU made.
Doubt seeps in like mist. Creeping into the cracks forming in your faith. Surely there's another way, right? Why not save up for a better magician? Or... or hire a hitman? Why involve a child? Surely... surely your God would not WANT this, right? Or if He did! Surely, he would want the boy to be able to CHOOSE, right? A noble sacrifice, for the cause?
The pressure builds. Batman is tearing the city APART looking for your fellow Believers. Leadership is pressuring you to get "It" ready all ready.
He's not an "it".
They are dismissing your questions. Threatening and posturing, as you grapple with your faith. Where? Where is the COMMUNITY that you joined? The camaraderie? Every day, Believers are being torn down. The faith has lost so many!
How can this be WORTH it?
Your faith is slowly, cruelly, strangled in your chest. A death, by ten thousand silences, and ten thousand more cruelties.
Your son is ready.
You do not tell them.
The Clone of Bruce Wayne's great-grandfather is small, but healthy, in your arms. A tiny warm body, with a strong beating little heart. You call the police. Leave your phone, call running, on the desk. No one thinks to stop you, as you calmly walk out the back door.
Why would they doubt?
You are Faithful.
You drive. Pray to a God you have lost faith in, beg forgiveness for what you do now. Your beat up old junker of a car makes decent time, as you leave Gotham. Your son, asleep in a carefully made nest of blankets, on the seat next to you. You drive. You keep driving.
Past towns.
Past cities.
Out of the state.
Stopping only to feed your son and fuel your car. You... you can not bring yourself to care about what will happen to you now. You know they will find you. Know this is the end. But something ancient burns in your chest. A caring you never thought was REAL.
You are afraid.
But you will not let them harm your son.
Finally, a town. Far from Gotham. Quite and cheerful. It calls to you.
Here. It... it has to be here.
You find the hospital. Tears choking you. There is a place to drop of children. You've seen them before. How strange, that now you stand before it and HURT. Your arms not listening to your command. You... you have to do this. You HAVE too.
He is just a baby.
He is your son.
You have to keep him safe. And... and that can not be with you.
You gently put your baby boy into the drop off. Press the buzzer. And then? You make yourself walk away.
Get back in your car, and drive. The gun in your glove box will insure they can never pry from you, what you have done. Where he is. He is safe now. He has to be. You... you did your job. As his father. You made sure he was safe.
You can barely see the road, through your tears.
You take your secrets to the grave.
And Danny? He grows up. Is adopted young and never knows different. Both a Fenton and a Wayne. Knowing only one of these, to be his. But... that Wayne? Was a damn fine man. A pillar of his community and a champion of the people.
Got tossed more then a few blessings, in his life.
They weren't the STRONGEST. But they added up. And more importantly? Were hardly the refined magics of the more powerful. They were cast onto "Him". By blood and bone, more often then not. Which was all well and good!
When there was only ONE of "Him".
Cloning technology did not exsist. So why would you word carefully against it? Danny becomes a VERY lucky boy. Survives many things he should not. In fact, the kindness and hard work of his original? Gifted back in magically powered well wishes? By this, he survives something NO ONE could possibly expect him too.
It saves his life.
His template would be quite pleased, knowing that. That his life of good deeds, saved the life of the child he never got a chance to meet. That it protected his children, from even beyond death.
And in Gotham? At long, long last. The program Bruce made in his helplessness and despair, to search EVERY child until the child made of his bloodline was found? Spits out a match.
A Watchtower engineer.
Daniel J. Fenton.
@hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dc x dp#dcxdp#dc x dp prompt#danny phantom#that baby is my great grandpa! au#spice up the cloning au#minji's writing
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Tim reviews Jason's operations management and makes a suggestion.
"Your first move: hire a head of sanitation," Tim said.
"You think a janitor's gonna solve my suddenly-successful-startup problems? What, by sweeping them away?" Jason rolled his eyes.
Tim steepled his fingers. “The good news,” he said, “is that your drug distribution and community norms enforcement hierarchy is very clear. You also have people doing marketing, program management, HR, facilities, and admin. Your system of rotating duties when people get injured isn’t bad—people generally benefit from cross-training—but you should formalize the top positions and compensate your new leadership team. Including sanitation.”
“Sure, sure, I'll just tell one of my guys their job is to be head shit-scrubber instead of a badass neighborhood protector!" Jason threw up his hands.
Tim raised his eyebrows.
“It’s bad enough getting them to clean up a crime scene when they’re on my literal shit list! A couple of them thought that lighting the building on fire was an easier way to get it to stop smelling bad and having DNA. Guess who had to add five new slides to his powerpoint about evidence disposal?" Jason glared.
Tim grimaced. "I had an intern in the office who thought that he could just throw trash off his desk for the cleaning staff to pick up."
He and Jason shared a commiserating look that silently said, We were both stupid enough to work with the League of Assassins, and even we wouldn't do that.
“Anyway," Tim continued, "since you're dealing with...that...you can just hire an outside party. Lots of people in Gotham know how to clean up dead bodies and keep their mouths shut. I can advertise the position and send you the likeliest candidates for an interview. I’ll have to incorporate you, of course, but I’ve had the paperwork ready since I got back from the Middle East.”
“Incorporate me?”
“Red Hood LLC, technically."
Jason's breathing became calculatedly even.
"Once you’re legit in the eyes of the law, we can work on squaring away everyone’s taxes and keep you from getting Capone’d.”
“I’m as legit as one of Two-Face’s two-dollar bills!”
“Yeah, but when you’re an LLC, all your crimes are white-collar crimes, and no one cares about those.” Tim shrugged.
“...Pretty sure that’s not how that works, bud.”
“It’s how the court of public opinion works. And if anyone tries to say that Red Hood, CEO of Red Hood LLC, and Red Hood, notorious vigilante, are the same person? Tell them to prove it. So what if you have the same outfit? It’s a free country and people can wear what they want. And if they ever get your DNA results, Oracle says no they didn't.”
Jason tilted his head and started smiling. "You want Red Hood to be the Scarlet Pimpernel and Percy Blakeney. At the same time."
"The more blatant you are about it, the better. Rub elbows with Gotham's elite and tell them that you can't imagine why someone would let a Crime Alley vigilante ruin their ability to wear a red hood as a fashion statement, but in your company, people have spines. Especially when they're job creators. If you play your cards right, red headgear will be back in fashion."
"And then?"
"And then," Tim's eyes gleamed, "you start selling merch."
"Oh, shit." Jason's smile turned into a full-on smirk.
"On a sliding scale, of course."
"Those nepo babies are gonna pay me so much money to look cool."
Tim smiled. "And that's how hiring a head shit-scrubber is going to mitigate your high growth and cash flow problems."
#castillon writes#batfam#jason todd#red hood#tim drake#red robin#is Tim also doing this because he wants backup at fancy galas. maybe!#is he also ALSO doing this because then Red Hood will hire local artists and it will give Jason and Damian an excuse to Bond Over Art#could be!#is he also also ALSO doing this because he wants to see Bruce's face#definitely#is he also also also ALSO doing this because Hood's crime scenes smell bad and Tim's the one who has to investigate them?#shhhh. listen. it's a service to all of Gotham at this point.
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✿—✧SPACE BETWEEN US✧—✿

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader
Genre: college au, friends to lovers, fluffy (?), angst
Trigger warning: it's super cringe!
Word count: 9k
Summary: You have been in love with Jungkook for ages but never said anything. When a surprise date turns into a dramatic showdown, his hidden feelings come crashing to the surface.
a/n: The characters and situations depicted in this chapter are fictional and are intended for entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The portrayal of emotions and interpersonal dynamics is a creative interpretation and should not be taken as a reflection of real-life relationships or events.a/n: Do not use this story as your own. I don't allow translations or reposting of my work on any platform, including YouTube.
a/n: Yes, you're probably experiencing déjà vu—I'm reposting this without a single edit. After my last account got suspended for reasons beyond my control, I figured what better way to kick off my return than by sharing one of my cringiest fanfics? Honestly, it's pretty on-brand for me, don't you think?
All Rights Reserved ©
@kookiewithluv 2024
You sat in your classroom, the hum of idle chatter around you barely registering. The lecture wouldn’t start for another thirty minutes, but you couldn’t care less. You just needed to be alone. The weight of recent events pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket, leaving you numb and confused. Your mind raced, thoughts tangled in a mess you couldn’t unravel.
Your phone vibrated on the desk, the screen lighting up with notifications. You glanced at it: 200+ texts and 28 missed calls from Jungkook. Without a second thought, you picked up the phone, turned it off, and set it back down. You didn’t want to deal with it, with him, with anything. Time seemed to blur as you sat there, your heart aching, your eyes glassy. But the tears wouldn’t come. They just sat there, stuck, like everything else inside you.
“Blush? Blush, are you okay?” Jungkook’s voice was soft, almost hesitant, as he spoke beside you.
You flinched, startled out of your thoughts. You hadn’t even noticed him sit down. Turning to face him, you were met with a sight that made your chest tighten. He looked so soft, so pretty in that moment—his pink lips curved into a worried pout, his hair falling messily over his forehead, half-covering those big doe eyes that seemed to shine even more because of it.
He reached out, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder, and called your name again. “Blush,” he said, the nickname rolling off his tongue like a quiet prayer. But you knew better. You did.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice filled with concern. You just shook your head and forced a small smile, turning away. What were you supposed to say? That you were what was wrong? That you’d fallen for him, knowing he’d never be there to catch you? The words were right there, lodged in your throat, but you swallowed them down, feeling them settle heavy and painful in your stomach. The ache clawed at your insides, begging for release, but you took a deep breath, holding everything in.
Jungkook was still watching you, his gaze piercing through the walls you were trying so hard to build. He gently cupped your face, turning you back to look at him. “Eyes on me. I’m talking,” he said, his tone soft but firm. The way his thumb brushed your cheek was so tender it almost broke you.
“You should—” he began, but the classroom door creaked open, and students started to file in, breaking the moment. He pulled back, checking the time, and you followed his gaze. Just as you both expected, Professor Min walked in, signaling the start of class. Relief washed over you, grateful for the distraction, for the escape. You silently thanked Mr. Min for his impeccable timing.
As the lesson began, you tried to focus, but your mind kept drifting back to Jungkook, to the conversation you’d narrowly avoided. Your chest felt tight, your heart heavy, but you pushed it all down, forcing yourself to stay composed.
The class went on, but all you could think about was how close you’d come to spilling everything. And how you still couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
Class ended earlier than expected. Mr. Min had cut the lecture short, saying he had something urgent to attend to. The moment his words left the room, you were already packing up, hands moving frantically as you stuffed your notebook and pens into your bag. Your movements were jerky, almost desperate, as if the faster you moved, the quicker you could escape.
Jungkook was right beside you, his presence heavy like a storm cloud about to break. You didn’t look at him, but you could feel his gaze, those eyes you usually found so comforting now burning holes into you. As you zipped up your bag, you felt his fingers twitch, like he was about to reach out, but you didn’t give him the chance.
You bolted for the door, your steps quick and purposeful. Just as you reached the threshold, his voice—a smooth, velvety sound that usually made your heart skip—called out your name.
“Blush,” he said, soft and hopeful.
But you didn’t stop. You didn’t turn around. You didn’t even acknowledge him. For the first time, you ran away from him. Your heart hammered in your chest, each beat a painful reminder of what you were doing, but you couldn’t stop.
The hallway blurred as you hurried through it, eyes fixed straight ahead, refusing to look back. You knew he was still there, standing in the doorway, probably confused, maybe even hurt. But you couldn’t deal with that now. You just needed to be alone.
When you reached the canteen, you went straight to the farthest corner, away from the clusters of students laughing and chatting. You dropped into a chair, slumping down as you pulled the hood of Jungkook’s hoodie over your head, trying to hide from the world. Your hands fiddled with the hem of the hoodie, twisting and tugging at the fabric as if it could somehow ground you, make everything go away.
You curled in on yourself, your head bowed low, eyes fixed on your trembling hands. The familiar scent of Jungkook still clung to the hoodie, but instead of comfort, it brought a fresh wave of pain. You bit your lip, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill over.
In that moment, the bustling canteen felt a million miles away. All you could focus on was the way your heart ached, the way it felt like something inside you was slowly breaking apart. You wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything to release the pressure building up inside you, but instead, you just sat there, hiding beneath the hoodie that was his, trying to hold yourself together, trying to breathe.
You were drowning in your thoughts, the noise around you fading into nothingness. A voice yanked you back to reality, snapping the delicate thread of your spiralling mind. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.
A light touch on your shoulder—soft, almost hesitant—tried to pull your attention. She already had it, though she didn’t realize it, because you still hadn’t looked at her. She stood to your left, leaning in slightly.
“Are you okay?” Lilith asked, her voice laced with concern. You kept your eyes down, refusing to meet hers.
Lilith. The campus beauty queen. The girl everyone adored. The girl who loved Jungkook. And everyone knew it, too. They rooted for them to be together, whispering about how perfect they’d be. The thought made your stomach churn, a bitter taste rising in your mouth. You hated it.
She continued, her tone gentle but insistent. “Jungkookie is worried about you. He was searching everywhere for you. You should talk to him. Should I call him—”
Your blood boiled at the sound of that nickname. Jungkookie. He hated that name, had told you so many times how much he despised it but never her. she kept calling him that, oblivious or maybe just indifferent. You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palms as you struggled to keep your anger in check.
“No,” you practically yelled, the word bursting out before you could stop it. Lilith flinched, her eyes wide with shock. She pulled her hand back, her fingers twitching nervously. But you didn’t care. You didn’t feel guilty. All you felt was anger—anger at yourself for losing control, and a burning hatred for her.
Without another word, you grabbed your bag, roughly shoving it over your shoulder as you pushed past her. She stumbled back slightly, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something, but you didn’t give her the chance. You stormed out of the canteen, your chest heaving with frustration.
The fresh air outside did little to calm you. You headed straight for the parking area, your steps quick and determined, each one pounding out the anger inside you. When you reached your car, you spotted it immediately and hurried over, yanking the door open.
You slid into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut behind you. For a moment, you just sat there, your breathing harsh and uneven. Then, with a frustrated groan, you tossed your bag onto the passenger seat, not caring where it landed. Everything felt too tight, too overwhelming. You buried your face in your hands, your fingers curling into your hair as you tried to steady yourself.
But the anger wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t let go. It bubbled just beneath the surface, a constant, throbbing ache that wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t ease. And all you could think about was how much you wished it would just disappear. How much you wished everything would just disappear.
Taking a deep breath, you gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to push all the swirling thoughts out of your head. With a quick motion, you pressed down on the accelerator, and the car roared to life beneath you. You didn’t hesitate as you started driving, focusing on the road ahead, wanting to leave everything behind.
But as you drove away, something caught your eye in the rearview mirror. Jungkook. He was running after your car, his face a mix of desperation and panic. You could see his mouth moving, probably yelling your name, but the sound was lost to the roar of the engine and the rush of blood in your ears. You didn’t stop. You didn’t even slow down. You just kept going, watching as he grew smaller and smaller in the mirror until he disappeared from view.
The ride home was anything but peaceful. The guilt gnawed at you, sinking its claws deeper with every passing mile. You tried to push it away, to convince yourself that you were right to leave, that you needed space. But the image of Jungkook’s face, the way he’d run after you, wouldn’t leave your mind. You’d ignored him all day, and you knew it must’ve hurt him. But you shook your head, refusing to dwell on it. You couldn’t handle that right now.
When you finally pulled into the driveway, the silence of your empty house greeted you. You parked the car in the garage, the engine’s hum dying down as you cut the power. The quiet was suffocating as you walked into the house, the echo of your footsteps bouncing off the walls. Your parents weren’t home. Again. Even though they had promised they would be. You let out a bitter chuckle, shaking your head at your own foolishness. Why did I even believe them? you thought. It was your birthday tomorrow, and once again, they weren’t there. Meetings, parties—whatever it was, it was always more important.
You made your way to the living room and sank down onto the couch, turning on the TV in a half-hearted attempt to distract yourself. But nothing on the screen held your attention. The images blurred together, the voices just white noise in the background. Your mind was too cluttered, too full of everything that had happened today, to make sense of anything playing out in front of you.
Frustrated, you got up and headed to your room, the emptiness of the house pressing down on you with every step. You didn’t have the energy to cook, the thought of food making your stomach twist. “Guess I’ll sleep hungry tonight,” you muttered to yourself, a hollow laugh escaping your lips.
You collapsed onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. The silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of your own breathing. But sleep didn’t come. No matter how much you tossed and turned, your mind wouldn’t quiet down. Thoughts of Jungkook, your parents, the loneliness that seemed to cling to you like a shadow—it all kept swirling in your head, refusing to let you rest.
You curled up under the covers, pulling them tightly around you as if they could shield you from the thoughts that wouldn’t leave you alone. But no matter how hard you tried, the weight of the day wouldn’t let you go. And so, you lay there, eyes wide open, the darkness around you feeling like a reflection of the emptiness inside.
You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as the room was cloaked in darkness. The silence around you was heavy, oppressive, and as the memory of the day crashed down on you, the tears began to flow uncontrollably, streaming down your face at an unusual speed.
Tomorrow was supposed to be special—your birthday. Even if your parents weren’t around, you’d convinced yourself that Jungkook’s presence would make it memorable. This morning, you’d been brimming with excitement. But all of that shattered the moment you stepped onto the college campus.
The crowd had been the first thing you noticed—a sea of students gathered in an unusually large cluster. Your curiosity had drawn you toward it, and you’d squeezed through the masses, pushing past eager onlookers until you reached the front. What you saw made your heart sink.
Lilith and Jungkook stood there, framed by the throng of students. Lilith held a bouquet of flowers, her face radiant with a hopeful smile as she offered it to him. The sight was enough to tell you what was happening. She was proposing. Your heart twisted with a mix of dread and hope as you watched Jungkook. He looked visibly distressed, his hands trembling slightly as he took the bouquet. A flicker of hope ignited in you that he might reject her, but the moment he accepted the flowers, that hope was dashed. The crowd erupted in cheers, and your heart shattered into pieces.
As if the scene couldn't get any worse, it did. The crowd began chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” The noise was deafening, each cheer driving the knife of betrayal deeper into your heart. Jungkook’s face flushed with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. He grabbed Lilith’s hand and tugged her away from the crowd, leading her toward a more private corner. You knew it wasn’t about him not wanting to kiss her in public; it was about him wanting to keep those private moments just for himself, away from prying eyes.
Recalling the memory now, as tears flowed freely and uncontrollably, your heart felt like it was being squeezed tight. The image of Jungkook’s nervous expression and Lilith’s hopeful eyes replayed in your mind, each scene a fresh cut. The darkness of your room mirrored the darkness in your heart, the weight of the day’s events pressing down on you with crushing force.
You clutched the pillow to your chest, your sobs muffled but relentless. Each breath came in shaky bursts, and you could feel the tears soaking through the fabric. The tears and the pain were all-consuming, leaving you with nothing but the hollow ache of rejection and betrayal. The silence of the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of your own brokenhearted sobs.
It’s funny how quickly things change. The person who once made your heart flutter with joy now seemed to be the source of all your misery. But it wasn’t his fault. He had no idea of your feelings. You never told him, and now you were left with nothing but regret.
The minutes dragged on with torturous slowness. The clock still hadn’t hit 10, and you were restless, your body aching from the weight of your emotions. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, and closed your eyes, hoping to find some semblance of peace. Yet, amid the turmoil, a small spark of hope flickered within you. Maybe, just maybe, Jungkook would call when the clock struck midnight. Maybe, as he had done in the past, he would stand on your doorstep with a big bouquet of daisies, because he knew how much you loved them.
Hope brought with it a tangled mess of uncertainty and fear. Part of you desperately wished for him to come, to see him standing there with that familiar, warm smile. But another part of you feared what that would mean. If he showed up, you knew you might not be able to hold yourself back. The thought of begging him to love you, to confess your feelings, terrified you. You wanted nothing more than to be happy for your best friend, the one you loved with all your heart, without letting your own desires ruin his moment.
As these conflicting thoughts swirled in your mind, you became increasingly aware of the exhaustion that weighed down on you. Your body, worn out from the emotional rollercoaster, finally succumbed to sleep. You hadn’t noticed when the weariness took over, but soon you were drifting off, your breathing evening out as the turbulent storm of your mind began to settle into a restless slumber.
The harsh buzz of the alarm clock jolted you awake. You reached out with a groggy hand to silence it, grumbling under your breath. As you blinked your eyes open, a dull ache throbbed in your head, and you winced at the sting of light. Your eyes felt like they were weighed down by sandbags, red and swollen from hours of restless sleep.
With a groan, you rolled out of bed, stumbling toward the bathroom. Each step felt heavy, your body dragging as if weighed down by an invisible burden. You shuffled into the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror with a sense of numb resignation. The sight that met you was far from flattering. Your hair was a tangled mess, and your face was puffy and pale. You let out a shaky breath, your reflection mocking you. "Happy birthday, ugly," you muttered to yourself, bitterness lacing your voice.
You turned on the faucet and splashed cold water onto your face, hoping to wash away the remnants of the night’s tears. The brisk water was invigorating but did little to lift the fog in your mind. You brushed your teeth mechanically, the familiar routine providing a small comfort. As you stepped into the shower, the warm water hit your skin, but it did little to soothe the ache inside you.
Your thoughts kept drifting back to Jungkook. You’d hoped he’d come by, as he used to, or at least send a message. But as the minutes ticked by, it became clear you were wrong. You chuckled bitterly at your own foolishness.
He hadn’t called.
Not even a text.
It was as if you’d been erased from his life, replaced by someone new.
Finishing up in the shower, you turned off the water and stepped out, feeling cold despite the warmth of the steam. You walked to your closet with a heavy heart and pulled on a simple white tee and blue baggy jeans. You chose a pair of Jordan shoes, not because you don't felt like dressing up, but because you couldn’t muster the energy for anything more. The effort felt pointless when it seemed no one remembered or cared about your birthday.
You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you dressed, and the image reflected the hollow ache you felt inside. With a resigned sigh, you walked out of your room, ready to face another day, feeling like a forgotten afterthought.
You hurried out of your house, barely pausing to lock the door behind you. The cold morning air bit at your cheeks as you slid into the driver's seat of your car. Your movements were mechanical, driven by a deep-seated weariness. You started the engine and pulled out of the driveway, the rumble of the car filling the silence of your thoughts.
As you drove to college, Jungkook’s image was a persistent shadow in your mind. Each turn of the wheel seemed to echo with memories of him—his laughter, his smile, and the sting of his absence. You gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white, as you fought to keep your emotions in check. There was an undercurrent of nervousness you couldn’t quite place, a fluttering uncertainty that made your heart race for reasons you couldn’t define.
The drive felt endless, each minute dragging by as you replayed yesterday’s events. By the time you pulled into the college parking lot, you were nearly suffocating with frustration and sadness. You parked your car with swift, jerky movements, almost slamming the gearshift into park.
Stepping out of the car, you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the melancholy that clung to you. The walk from the parking lot to the campus felt like a trek through a fog. Your eyes were downcast, your footsteps heavy as you made your way through the bustling campus. You barely registered the chatter and movement around you, lost in your own turmoil.
You finally reached the canteen, its familiar smell of coffee and breakfast foods mixing with the lingering bitterness in your heart. As you pushed through the doors, the chatter and clatter of trays and dishes surrounded you, but you barely noticed. You moved through the crowded room, shoulders hunched, eyes focused on the path ahead. Finding a spot at a table, you sank into a chair, tossing your bag on the table, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you, as if the whole world was a muted blur around you.
You took a deep breath, getting up and walking to the counter, eyes scanning the options in front of you. The canteen menu was as uninspiring as ever, but hunger gnawed at your stomach, reminding you of your own laziness for not cooking anything. With a resigned sigh, you grabbed a plate of waffles and a cup of coffee, the safest bets in this lackluster spread. After paying, you turned to head back to your table, but something made you freeze mid-step.
There he was—Jungkook. His eyes darted anxiously around the canteen, scanning faces, moving with a restless urgency that made your heart skip a beat. For a brief moment, the urge to bolt gripped you, to just turn around and leave before he spotted you. But you shook your head, grounding yourself. He wasn't looking for you. He was probably searching for his new girlfriend, Lilith. The thought stung, but you swallowed it down and continued back to your table.
You set the plate and coffee down with a soft clatter, sinking into your seat. Just as you lifted the cup to your lips, ready to lose yourself in the warmth of the coffee, you heard it—his voice cutting through the chatter of the canteen.
"Blush. Blush."
His nickname for you.
His footsteps followed, growing louder as they neared. Your breath caught in your throat as you set the cup back down, unable to take that sip.
In no time, Jungkook was standing right in front of you, his presence commanding, and something was different. You forced yourself to look up at him, your eyes meeting his, only to be met with an expression that sent a shiver down your spine.
Anger? Why did he look angry?
His brow was furrowed, jaw tight, and his eyes—those usually warm, comforting eyes—were now darkened with frustration. You couldn't understand it. What did he have to be angry about? Confusion churned in your gut, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, words failing you. The air between you felt charged, heavy with unspoken tension, and you could feel the weight of his gaze bearing down on you, waiting for an explanation you didn't have.
"Why are you ignoring me?" Jungkook’s voice softened as he gazed at you, the anger in his eyes fading into something that looked like sadness. He tossed his bag onto the table beside yours with a thud, then crouched down in front of you, his gaze never leaving your face.
Before you could react, he reached out, grabbing the sides of your chair and turning it to face him. His hands found yours, gripping them tightly, as if afraid you might slip away. The intensity of his touch sent a jolt through you, weakening your resolve. It was a good thing you were already sitting, or your legs might have given out beneath you.
"Blush," he whispered, his voice so soft it barely reached your ears. The sound of your nickname on his lips made your heart clench painfully. God, you loved him—so much it hurt. But what did it matter? You couldn’t tell him. He had a girlfriend now. You reminded yourself of this bitter truth, feeling the familiar ache of heartbreak settling in your chest.
You closed your eyes, trying to steady your racing heart. Taking a deep breath, you attempted to pull your hands away from his, but he only held on tighter, his grip almost desperate. It was as if he feared losing you, like you were the one thing keeping him grounded. The intensity of his hold made your heart ache even more. Could it be? No, you must be imagining things.
"Why?" he asked, his voice breaking slightly. "Why are you doing this? I’m trying to talk to you, and you’re just… not talking to me. You ignored me yesterday too."
His words hung in the air, heavy with confusion and hurt. You stared down at your intertwined hands, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. What could you say? There were no words that could fix this. The truth was too painful to speak. You just wanted to disappear, to be anywhere but here. The realization that he didn’t even remember your birthday only twisted the knife deeper. You felt like crumbling into pieces, but you stayed silent, holding back the storm of emotions threatening to escape.
You wanted to ask him if he even remembered it was your birthday. Did he really forget you in just one day after getting a girlfriend? It wasn’t about him not loving you or you loving him—that was a secret you’d buried deep. But you were best friends. Did he forget that too? How could he stand here, blaming you, while he acted like nothing was wrong?
But you didn’t ask any of those questions. The words that escaped your lips were far different, softer, weaker. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jungkook’s gaze locked onto yours, searching for something—maybe an explanation, maybe an apology. You couldn't tell.
“I was just… It’s… My parents aren’t home. And I was feeling sad and lonely,” you lied, trying to force a convincing smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes.
For a moment, his eyes softened, the tension in his shoulders easing. He seemed to believe you, and that only made your heart crack a little more. Where had that Jungkook gone? The one who could see through your smiles, who always knew when something was wrong even before you did. The boy who used to notice the sadness hidden behind your laughter was gone, replaced by someone who couldn’t even spot the lie on your lips.
He nodded, his grip on your hands loosening slightly. “I get it,” he said, his voice softer now, more understanding. But he didn’t get it. Not really. He didn’t see the pain you were hiding, the way your heart was shattering piece by piece.
You swallowed hard, biting back the words you wanted to scream. Instead, you just nodded, letting him believe the lie, even though it tore you apart inside.
Jungkook stood up and gently patted your head, his touch warm but distant. "It will be okay, hmm?" he said, his voice soft, almost comforting. You nodded, feeling like a fool. Will it ever be okay? No, it won’t. It can never be okay. You loved him too much for things to be okay. This love was too deep, too consuming to ever fade. The only way for it to end would be for you to end, or else this love would live on inside you forever. That thought terrified you—the idea of loving him for eternity, never being able to touch him, while time made him forget you. And yet, you'd be left with nothing but memories, trapped in a loop of unrequited feelings.
“Blush?” His voice pulled you back to the present, soft and filled with concern. He smiled at you, that sweet smile he always reserved just for you. But now, that smile only reminded you that he wasn’t yours anymore—if he ever truly was. Nothing about him belonged to you, and maybe it never did. You were just fooling yourself, weren’t you?
“Don’t think much. It’ll be fine. I promise.” His fingers brushed your face, his thumb tracing lightly over your nose—a gesture that used to make you laugh, that used to light up your world. But now, it only made you want to cry.
You forced a smile, the corners of your mouth lifting just enough to convince him, even though your heart was breaking inside. His touch, his words—they were meant to soothe you, but they only made the ache worse. You wanted to believe him, to cling to the hope he offered, but deep down, you knew better. Nothing would ever be the same again.
Jungkook smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he pulled a chair closer to you and sat down. His happiness was infectious, but it only added to the heaviness in your chest.
"I have something for you," he said, his voice laced with excitement. "want to see it?"
You didn’t really want to see it. The weight of exhaustion was already pressing down on you, making you feel dizzy and drained. All you wanted was for him to leave, for this feeling of doom to pass. But you nodded anyway, forcing yourself to respond.
When his eyes lit up at your response, a small part of you felt a flicker of happiness. You watched as he reached for his bag, your gaze following the movements of his hands, wondering what he was up to.
He pulled out a large box of chocolates, and a genuine smile finally touched your lips. For a moment, the weight in your heart lightened just a little. You looked up at him, trying to match his enthusiasm.
"I know you love these," he said, holding the box out to you, "and I thought you were angry at me, so I needed to make it up to you."
You took the box from him, managing a laugh. "I wasn’t angry, but thanks," you said, your voice a mix of gratitude and something else—something you couldn’t quite name. He reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture tender and familiar, making your heart ache even more.
But despite the sweetness of the gesture, the happiness didn’t quite reach your heart. A box of chocolates wasn’t enough to make up for what you really wanted—a simple “Happy Birthday” from him. Yet, you pushed those thoughts aside and leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, thanking him for the gift.
As he patted your head soothingly, you closed your eyes, willing yourself to feel the comfort he was trying to offer. But deep down, you knew that nothing could fill the emptiness inside you—not the chocolates, not his touch, not even the sound of his heartbeat close to yours.
You pulled back from the hug, your eyes lingering on his, those big doe eyes that seemed to hold the universe in them. He was everything you could ever want, the very definition of perfection. And maybe that’s why you couldn’t have him. He deserved someone better—someone like her.
He smiled at you, a warm, affectionate smile, and playfully squeezed your cheeks. Just as he was about to say something, a voice interrupted from behind.
“Jungkookie!” Lilith’s voice, sickly sweet and sharp, pierced through the air, making you wince.
Jungkook’s head snapped around, and he smiled at her, his entire demeanor shifting in an instant. She came striding towards you both, her high heels clicking loudly on the floor. Jungkook’s eyes widened in surprise, and even you felt a twinge of concern that she might stumble and fall flat on her face. But she didn’t.
And as much as you hated to admit it, a small part of you was disappointed that she didn’t fall. You wanted her to.
In no time, she was standing in front of Jungkook, her hand sliding into his as she pulled him to his feet. It all happened so quickly, like a flash of lightning. One moment he was sitting with you, his hands gently cupping your cheeks, and the next, he was standing beside her, her arms wrapped possessively around his left arm.
He brushed her arms away, his expression softening as he bent down to your level. “Look, I’ve got to go now. I… I have something important to do. Take care and eat the chocolates, okay?”
And just like that, he was gone, leaving you with nothing but a box of chocolates and the emptiness gnawing at your chest.
You stared at the chocolates, the sweetness now a bitter reminder of everything you wanted but couldn’t have. It wasn’t the chocolates you craved—it was him. But all you got was this, while she… she had everything you wanted.
You turned deliberately back to your food, your appetite gone, but you forced yourself to eat anyway. The food tasted like ash in your mouth, but you swallowed it down, trying to fill the void that only seemed to grow with each bite.
The day dragged on, each hour blurring into the next. You didn’t see Jungkook again—not that you expected to. He was probably busy with his new girlfriend, and though you told yourself you didn’t care, the truth was harder to swallow. You cared. You cared too much. But you were tired of admitting it, even to yourself.
Finally, the day came to an end. You packed up your things, barely aware of your surroundings as you walked down the corridor, out of the building, and into the parking lot. Spotting your car, you headed straight for it, tossing your bag onto the passenger seat with a sigh.
Just as you were about to start the engine, you heard someone call your name. You glanced out the window and saw a guy waving at you. When your eyes met, he jogged over to your car, his expression nervous but determined.
Standing beside your car, he smiled awkwardly. “Hey! You probably know me…”
You shook your head, and his face flushed a deep shade of red. “That’s okay, I’m Jay. We’re in the same class. Literature?”
You nodded, waiting for him to continue, feeling the weight of his nervous energy in the air. He took a deep breath, then suddenly blurted out, “Will you go on a date with me?”
For a moment, the world seemed to stop. His words hung in the air, and you processed them in stunned silence. But as you remained quiet, you saw the panic start to creep into his eyes, his breath quickening. Realizing he might be spiraling, you quickly stepped out of your car and placed a gentle hand on his arm, offering a reassuring smile.
“Hey, it’s okay,” you said softly, trying to ease his nerves. “You don’t need to worry.”
He looked at you, relief washing over his face, though he still seemed uncertain. “It’s fine if you don’t want to. I’ll understand. You—”
His eyes lit up, a mixture of surprise and happiness flashing across his face. “Perfect! I’ll pick you up at 7 from your house.”
Your smile faltered slightly, the thought of giving out your address making you uneasy. “No, it’s okay. I’ll meet you there. Just send me the address.”
You exchanged phone numbers, his excitement almost contagious as he nodded eagerly. You still didn’t know him well. But at least this was something different, something that might distract you from everything else.
As you drove home, your thoughts drifted back to Jungkook and the emptiness that had taken root in your heart. But maybe, just maybe, it was time to try something new. To have a little fun, even if it was just to forget the pain, even if only for a night.
Time blurred by, and before you knew it, the clock struck six. Your phone buzzed with a text from Jay, providing the address of the restaurant. You glanced at the message before quickly getting ready, slipping into a simple black dress—nothing fancy, but short enough to make an impression. With one last look in the mirror, you grabbed your keys and headed out.
The drive to the restaurant was uneventful, your mind wandering as you navigated the familiar streets. When you arrived, the small vintage-themed restaurant immediately caught your eye. It was charming, with a warm, inviting atmosphere that made you smile. You stepped inside, scanning the room until you spotted Jay sitting in the corner, waving at you enthusiastically. You had to stifle a laugh—waving seemed to be his signature move.
You walked over, and as you approached, he quickly stood up and pulled out your chair with a shy grin. “Quite a gentleman, aren’t you?” you teased, unable to resist. His cheeks flushed pink, and he mumbled, “You look really beautiful.”
Settling into your seat, you felt a small flutter of satisfaction at his compliment. He ordered food for both of you, and the conversation began to flow naturally. Jay was nice—easy to talk to, with a soft demeanor that made the evening pleasant.
But then, mid-conversation, you noticed his hand suddenly move toward yours. He placed it on top of your hand, his touch tentative and shy. The urge to laugh bubbled up again, but you forced it down, deciding to let it slide. It didn’t feel right, but you didn’t say anything, noticing how nervous he was.
However, Jay seemed to misinterpret your silence. A few moments later, he scooted his chair closer to yours, his face inching toward you with a look that was all too clear. Your eyes widened in alarm, and you instinctively leaned back, creating distance. But Jay didn’t get the message—he continued leaning in, oblivious to your discomfort.
You opened your mouth, ready to stop him, but the words never left your lips. In the blink of an eye, Jay was on the floor, groaning in pain, clutching his side as he struggled to catch his breath.
And standing above him, fists clenched and jaw tight, was Jungkook.
His chest heaved with barely restrained fury, his usual calm expression replaced with something darker, more intense. His eyes, usually warm and full of mischief, were now cold as they locked onto Jay, who was still writhing on the floor. Jungkook’s hand twitched as if he was ready to strike again, but he held back, his gaze shifting to you.
He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming, and your breath caught in your throat. His eyes hard and cold met yours, the anger in them abating just a bit, but his voice was soft when he spoke. “Are you okay?”
"Huh?" You asked, puzzled, and startled. For what really? In your head, you believed Jay didn't have any wrong intentions. But Did you say anything? No. You were too dumbfounded to pronounce a word.
"Blush, are you okay?" He repeated.
You nodded, though the shock was still coursing through your veins, making your limbs feel heavy. Jungkook’s eyes searched yours as if looking for any sign of distress, and when he seemed satisfied that you were unharmed, he turned his attention back to Jay, who was trying to scramble to his feet.
“Stay away from her,” Jungkook warned, his voice low and menacing. Jay paled, his eyes darting between you and Jungkook, clearly terrified.
You wanted to say something—to calm the situation down—but the words were stuck in your throat, tangled with the confusion and a hint of something else. Relief, perhaps? Or was it something more? Hope? But, for what?
Jungkook’s gaze hardened further as he looked at Jay and then again at you, his voice firm now. “Let’s go. You shouldn’t be here.” He held out his hand, and for a moment, you hesitated, glancing at Jay, who looked utterly defeated. But in the end, you placed your hand in Jungkook’s, letting him lead you away from the chaos he had just caused.
Jungkook grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the restaurant with a force that left you stumbling to keep up. His grip was tight, almost painfully so, as he dragged you toward his car, his jaw set in a hard line. When you reached the car, he yanked the door open and practically shoved you inside, slamming the door shut with a sharp thud. You wanted to tell him that you’d driven yourself, but the words caught in your throat. Something in the way he moved, tense and angry, made you stay silent.
He climbed into the driver’s seat, his movements quick and stiff, and started the car without a word. The engine roared to life, and soon you were speeding down the dark streets, the silence between you heavy and oppressive. The air inside the car was thick with unspoken tension, and you found yourself nervously fidgeting with the hem of your dress, your heart pounding in your chest.
You could tell he was furious; the tight set of his jaw, the way his hands gripped the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping him from losing control. The cold night air seeped in through the cracked window, brushing against your bare skin and making you shiver. Despite his anger, Jungkook noticed. Without a word, he reached over and rolled up the window before flipping on the heater.
“My hoodie’s in the back seat,” he said harshly, his voice cutting through the silence. “Grab it and fucking wear it.”
The words were gruff, his tone filled with irritation, but the gesture was astonishingly thoughtful. You turned around to reach for the hoodie, and that’s when you noticed it—an enormous bouquet of daisies and a cake resting on the back seat. Your fingers froze mid-air as you stared at them, a mixture of confusion and curiosity swirling in your chest. Are they for me? Did he really? Your mind raced with these thoughts. You wanted to ask him about it, but when you glanced at his face, the sharp angles of his clenched jaw and the angry flicker in his eyes made you think twice.
Silently, you grabbed the hoodie and pulled it over your head, the fabric soft and warm against your skin. It was far too big, swallowing you up like a blanket, and his scent, a mix of something fresh and woodsy, surrounded you as you took a deep breath. For a brief moment, a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. He really was huge, you thought, but the smile faded quickly as you stole another glance at him, his expression still hard and unyielding.
The drive seemed to pass in a blur, the tension in the car making every second feel like an eternity. Finally, you reached your home, and before you could even reach for the door handle, Jungkook was out of the car, moving around to your side. He yanked the door open with a roughness that made you flinch and grabbed your arm, pulling you out onto the sidewalk. His grip was firm as he dragged you toward the front door, his steps quick and determined, leaving you no choice but to stumble along behind him.
Your mind was racing, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened, but before you could process it all, you were inside your house, the door closing with a sharp click behind you, and he was standing in front of you.
Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing like a drum in the tense silence that followed Jungkook’s outburst. The fear in your gut twisted tighter with every step he took toward you. You had never seen him this angry before. He was always the boy who had been your childhood friend, the one you fell for in middle school but never told. At first, it was fear of rejection, and later, the fear of losing him and your friendship kept your feelings hidden. But now, wasn’t he lost to you? Didn’t he belong to Lilith now?
“Why the fucking hell were you out with that idiotic being?” His voice was like a whip, harsh and cutting through the air. The force of his words made you flinch, your shoulders tensing as if trying to shield yourself from his anger. You caught a flicker of something in his eyes—was it regret?—but it was fleeting, quickly masked by his furious expression.
Before you could gather your thoughts or find the words to respond, he took two swift strides toward you, and suddenly you were face-to-face. The intensity of his gaze bore into you, a storm of hurt and pain swirling in his eyes. “Do you like him?” he demanded, his voice cracking with raw emotion. “Do you love him?” He didn’t wait for your answers, bombarding you with questions while his face remained inches from yours.
You tried to speak, but the words were trapped, your throat tightening. Jungkook's hands gripped your shoulders, his fingers digging in with a possessiveness that left you breathless. “Damnit, say something!” he shouted, shaking you slightly. “Why were you out with him?”
But instead of answering, you shot back a question of your own, desperation lacing your voice. “How did you know I was out with him, Jungkook? How did you even find me Jungkook?”
You didn't want to answer his question. Why should he care if you loved someone or not, when he had accepted Lilith’s proposal just the day before? Now he had a girlfriend. He had no right to demand answers from you.
His anger flared further, a deep scowl marring his features. “Does it matter?” he snapped. “Does it fucking matter?” His eyes were intense, demanding an answer, and he leaned in as if he might kiss you, his breath hot against your face. “Why don’t you answer me? Do you love him?”
The intensity of the moment, the way he was so close and yet so distant, made you tremble. “Yes, it matters! It matters to me!” you shouted, your voice breaking with the force of your emotions. You pushed him away, the shove more about your need for space than real anger.
Jungkook stumbled back, his eyes widening in shock. His face twisted with hurt, and tears began to well up, glistening in the harsh light of the room. He stared at you, his expression a mix of pain and confusion, as if your rejection was a blow he wasn’t prepared for. The sight of him—this person who had always been so sure and confident—crumbling in front of you left a sharp pang in your chest.
As you looked at his tear-filled eyes, a deep, gnawing guilt settled in your chest. Why did you still care so much about him? You wondered. Your love for him was consuming you, and it was tearing you apart. You opened your mouth to respond, but he spoke before you could.
“I came to your house to celebrate your birthday,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I wanted to surprise you. This time... I wanted to surprise you on your birthday, that's why I didn't wish you before. But. But when I got here, I saw you getting into your car; before I could stop you, you left, your car was already speeding up. I chased after you because I really wanted to make you happy. You were loo-looking sad all day. But, I lost you somewhere along the way, then sear-searched for your car for like forever. When I finally found it, it was parked outside that restaurant.” His voice rose with each word, and his eyes were wild with a mixture of frustration and hurt. “And the moment I walked in, I saw him trying to kiss you. You didn’t even stop him!”
The anger in his voice dissolved into tears. His shoulders shook as he struggled to breathe, the weight of his emotions crashing down on him. You could see the pain etched into his face, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.
You moved towards him, your own heart breaking at the sight of him in such distress.
You moved towards him and wrapped your arms around him tightly, hoping to offer some comfort. “Jungkook, what's wrong?” you murmured, your voice gentle. “why are you crying? Please, don’t cry.” But he pushed you away, his hands shoving you forcefully. His reaction stunned you, and a wave of realization hit you. So this is how he felt when you pushed him away.
You tried again, but he pushed you off once more, his eyes filled with anguish. “You love him, don’t you? How long? Huh?” he sobbed, his voice cracking with pain.
Determined not to give up, you moved towards him again. This time, when he tried to push you, you held your ground. You guided him to the couch and gently made him sit down, his shoulders shaking with each breath. You stood beside him, your hand soothingly stroking his back. “Please, don’t cry,” you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady.
He buried his face against your waist, his arms clinging to you. “Why do you love him and not me?” he asked, his voice muffled but full of hurt. “I thought you love me.”
For a moment, you were frozen, staring at him in disbelief, questions swirling in your head making your heart ache further. He knew. He knew you loved him, yet he chose her over you. Now, he was asking you this. How could he? How could he ask this when he was with Lilith? Did he expect you to chase him while he enjoyed his life with someone else?
With a mix of frustration and sorrow, you pushed his hands away from your waist. His crying intensified, but you no longer cared. “How can you say that?” you yelled, your voice breaking. “You accepted Lilith’s proposal yesterday! You’re dating her now! And you’re telling me not to love anyone else?”
Jungkook shook his head vigorously, trying to explain. “I— I didn’t... She... I... No. Please,” he started, but you cut him off.
“You knew. You knew I love you. You knew I was upset!” you continued, your voice rising. “still, you left me alone with those stupid chocolates while you went off with her!”
He tried to explain himself again, but you interrupted again, your anger spilling over. “I didn’t want those chocolates! I wanted you!” you shouted, your hand striking his chest. “You’re a heartless bastard. I’ve loved you for so long, and you never cared! Was it too hard to fall for me? And, why crying now?”
Jungkook’s face twisted with frustration, he knew you love him, he always did, his mouth opening to say something, but you cut him off once more. “You always stopped me from calling you ‘Jungkookie’ or ‘Kookie,’ but you never minded when other girls did it!”
He was growing increasingly agitated, his face reddening with frustration. Without fully realizing what he was doing, he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you close. His lips crashed against yours, the urgency of the moment catching both of you by surprise.
For a brief second, you were frozen, his kiss demanding and intense. But then, you began to respond, your lips moving against his. The kiss was raw, filled with all the emotions neither of you could put into words.
He slowly pulled away, both of you breathing hard, your chests rising and falling rapidly. Your face was flushed, partly from the kiss and partly from the shyness creeping in. His eyes softened as he looked at you, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “I’m not dating her, Blush,” he whispered, using the nickname that made you feel like home for the first time in what felt like forever.
You blinked, your heart stuttering at his words. “What?”
“I’m not dating her,” he repeated, his voice steady yet full of regret. “Yes, she proposed, and I didn’t reject her immediately, but that was only because there were so many people around. I didn’t want to embarrass her in front of everyone.” His hand dropped to yours, holding it firmly. “I told her in private afterward that I love someone else. That I love you.”
Your breath hitched as he confessed, his gaze never leaving yours. “She said she needed help with a project, and after rejecting her, I couldn’t say no. So, I left with her, but I didn’t want to. I just... I’m sorry, Blush. I love you, and only you.”
You felt your heart skip a beat as his words sank in. He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “And those names,” he continued, his voice low, “I never liked them. It always felt like they were calling a baby, but I didn’t care enough to stop them because... well, they didn’t matter to me. The only person who matters is you.”
His words wrapped around your heart, squeezing it tight. You couldn’t hold back anymore. You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down, crashing your lips against his. The kiss was urgent, desperate, full of everything you’d been holding back for so long. His arms wound around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.
After what felt like an eternity, you broke the kiss, both of you panting, foreheads pressed together. “I love you too, Jungkook,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.
His arms tightened around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. “I’ve loved you for so long,” he murmured against your skin. “I was just too scared to lose you.”
You pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. “You won’t lose me,” you promised, your hand cupping his cheek. “Not now, not ever.”
He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as if he were savouring the moment. “That's a good thing because... I'm planning to keep you forever and ever and ever. I’m never letting you go,” he vowed, his voice firm, and you knew he meant every word.
Jungkook’s arms wrapped tighter around you, pulling you even closer, as if afraid you might disappear. His forehead rested gently against yours, his breath warm on your skin. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he looked into your eyes, the intensity of his earlier emotions fading into something softer, something tender.
“Happy birthday, Blush,” he whispered, his voice filled with affection.
Before you could even respond, he suddenly scooped you up into his arms, making you squeal in surprise. He laughed, the sound full of joy, as he began to twirl you around. The world spun around you, the colours of the room blurring together, but all you could focus on was him. The way his eyes sparkled with happiness, the way his grip on you was firm yet gentle, and the way his laughter filled your heart with warmth.
“Jungkook!” you laughed, holding onto his shoulders, feeling like you were floating. “Put me down!”
“Never,” he teased, twirling you faster. “Not until I’ve spun you around enough to make up for all those tears.”
Your laughter mingled with his, and the room filled with the sound of your shared happiness. Finally, when he slowed to a stop, he carefully set you down, though his arms stayed wrapped around you, keeping you close. You were both a little dizzy, swaying slightly, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was being in his arms, feeling his warmth, and knowing that he loved you.
Jungkook’s hands gently cupped your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as he looked at you with a smile that made your heart melt. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he murmured. “I’ve imagined this moment a thousand times, but it’s so much better than I ever dreamed.”
You smiled back at him, your hands resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingers. “This is the best birthday I’ve ever had,” you confessed softly.
He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead. “I'm sorry for making you cry. I won't ever make you cry again,” he promised. “I always knew you love me I just... I was... I tried to tell you many times but everytime it felt like it's not the right time, I'm sorry my love. I promise I'll make up for all those tears I've caused you because of my stupidity. Gosh! I just love you so much, Blush.”
You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but they were happy tears. You leaned into his touch, feeling safe, loved, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was going to be okay.
Jungkook’s arms slid around your waist again, and before you could say anything, he lifted you off your feet once more, spinning you around slowly this time, his smile wide and full of love.
“Happy birthday, my love,” he whispered as he twirled you gently.
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Wow, you made it to the end! Honestly, that deserves a medal or maybe some serious painkillers. If you’re still breathing and not currently plotting my demise for making you read this—congrats, you’re a legend. If you’re crawling towards me with murder in your eyes, don’t worry, I get it. I cringed so hard writing this that I think I bruised a rib.
I know, I know. This is like a bad joke that just won’t end. I’m cringing harder than you are. But hey, sometimes you just need to unleash your inner masochist and share the pain. I posted it because I felt like it. So, let’s bond over this collective trauma, or you can just plot my demise in peace. Either way, thanks for sticking around and surviving this with me. Here’s to us—brave souls navigating the wreckage of my writing. Cheers!
a/n: Let me know what you think in any way you like—comments, messages, carrier pigeons, whatever! I'd love to hear!
#jeon jungkoooook#jungkook#jungkook jeon#jeon jungkook#bts army#bts#bts ff#bts ffs#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fiction#jungkook fluff#jungkook romance#jungkook imagine#jungkook oneshot#jungkook angst#jungkook scenarios#jungkook college au#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook smut#kookiewithluv#space between us
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࣪𖤐.ᐟ — there’s just something about putting gojo and nanami in the challengers threesome situation that i simply cannot resist so lest us fret and let us feast
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the chase was always the fun part. that back and forth banter between you and your counterpart — pushing them past their breaking point as you saunter away time and time again because they'd always come back for more. you knew how to lure. and you were divine at it. so much so that it was even a foundation of your cursed technique. the chase was something you lived for. those moments of feeling ever so high, especially alongside the horrors of the profession of sorcery, was what got you through the day. it was elementary, really. a good work crush could solve everything.
satoru gojo was too easy. you had him wrapped around your finger the moment you met him. even if he was just as quick-witted and could send your shit right back at you, at the snap of your fingers he was your dog and he’d sit down and listen. the eye and admiration of kento nanami, on the other hand, was your prized possession, something you learned you had to earn. nanami was your work in progress. he puts up a fight to remain the epitome of calm, cool, and collected. he’d never allow himself a crush in the workplace. the profession of sorcery was too serious. but from the moment the two of you met in school, unbeknownst to you, he quickly realized you were different. kento nanami saw everything he needed to know in the way you carried yourself as a sorcerer. despite his usual indifference to people in general, you grew on him pretty quickly. it was something he kept to himself. you’d been etched on his heart ever since.
the pair were polar opposites. the egotistical asshole and the stoic gentleman. two of your colleagues that shared nothing in common. you laughed to yourself in your head. that wasn't all true. they did share one thing.
that’s why you almost didn't know what to do with yourself now that you had them both here on the end of the bed, sitting on either side of you, so close your outer thighs pressed flat against either of theirs.
it was dead silent, aside from the shallow breaths. the tension in the air so thick you could choke on it. you could feel both sets of eyes on you as you sat there facing straight ahead. they didn't dare move, not without your say.
with a release of your breath, you ran your hands down either of their thighs, trailing a reassuring rub back and forth with a gentle squeeze of either knee. both men faltered at your simple touch. they were antsy, thanks to you, and unapologetically desperate. anything from you and they'd come undone. filthily shameless, too, both of them— neither giving a single fuck that the other is there. anything they can get from you, they'll take with open arms. even in the presence of the other.
it dumped fuel on your fire.
your eyes flitted over to your right, meeting nanami's hazel gaze, taking a moment to yourself to revel in the piercing look before taking his face in your hands and pressing your lips to his. as if he was a delicate thing, despite the strapping size of him. his big strong arms closing in on your frame as they find either side of your ribcage and hold you there with him. as if you would saunter away at any given moment. his lips matched yours in a soft, passionate dance, with a deep-rooted passion that had begged to see the light of day for so long now that was finally allowed to burn. it was achingly sweet, filled with an unrecognizable desire and warmth from the reserved man. you re-met his lips again and again and again, each reunion needier than the last. his hands strained around your frame, his hold so firm like he was making a claim of you.
gojo was genuinely tweaking on the left of you. he needed your attention, now. needed your pretty eyes on him and somewhere to put his restless hands. watching you kiss nanami like your life depended on it shamelessly had his dick hard, waiting his turn so patiently that you'd give it to him just as good if not better. you were playing with him, right? making him be the one to wait and prove he's a good boy so you'd reward him? god, he fucking hoped so. because he wasn't so sure how long he could last being good with a sight as pornographic as the one set out in front of him.
silently gojo’s fingers grazed the top of your left thigh, grabbing at it lightly, like he was reminding you that he was still there.
you swiftly snatched his anxious hand and held it to your center, holding it there against your ribs without breaking the kiss you were preoccupied with. you hummed in response to both of them, one for praise and one for patience.
you're slow to release nanami's face from your hand, drawing back from his hold. his eyes lock to yours in an instant, pupils so blown with lust you almost didn’t recognize him. you couldn't help the smile that tugged ever so lightly at the corners of your mouth, getting off on that fucking look he's giving you. the way it said everything for him. he was utterly submitted; without hesitation, he was at your mercy.
breaking nanami's gaze, you flip to gojo, who gasps at your full attention. your grin has taken over your lips at the sight of him— the tension holding his shoulders taut and completely upright, the sweat adorning his forehead, his baby blues a shade so bright you nearly squint just to have a longer look. you were torturing this poor man. you could feel him impatiently waiting his turn from beside you the entire time, but that's why he needed it.
you knew how to work your boys up so well. you also knew gojo couldn't handle it. he didn't have the self-restraint, not when it came to you.
his hands had already jumped the gun, trailing your thighs up til he hit your hips where they locked on, digging his fingertips in, his eyes boring into yours as he remained still as his chest heaved in shallow breaths. waiting for your word — for your initiative — and you caught it, holding still there in the moment for just a second too long just to revel in his anticipation before leaning in, ever so slowly, until your lips hovered in front of his. those bright eyes left yours to steal a glance down at your parted, panting lips, wordlessly begging you to close the gap. he knew better than to do it himself, as much as he yearned to.
but toying with your boys was what you did best.
you inched the last inch closer, just barely grazing his lips when that soft grin fought its way back to your lips and you whispered, "are you sure your infinity is turned off—"
"for fuck's sake—"
gojo crashed his mouth to yours, not able to control himself any longer. and you oblige, letting him take control as he grabs you into a tight embrace, one hand clutching the back of your neck and the other wrapping around to press you further into him at center of your back. anything to get you closer to him. a place he could finally have you and keep you in. the kiss was rottenly sweet, despite the torment you put him through. he can't keep still, trailing his hands to your face, caressing it as you make quick work of his tongue. you knew he'd need more of you after the teasing, your efforts making him moan raggedly into your mouth.
your right hand dragged up his front to rest delicately at his jaw, grasping it with force at your fingertips. there was a want with every press of his lips, desire coating every flick of his tongue. doing everything he’d been dying to do since he first laid eyes on you.
you paused your fit of passion when a another smile graced your lips. gojo pulled back to look at your face, those baby blues studying your features as his saliva-glossed lips hung parted as he panted to regain his breath.
you caught nanami off guard when you flicked your attention back to him for another kiss, but he returned it with matching energy. gojo pressed his chest up into your back, cupping at your breasts through your shirt, lips connecting with your neck as he peppers soft wet kisses along it. you flicked back to gojo, redirecting his lips to yours again and he gladly obliges. nanami's hands found either side of your ribcage from behind as he buries his face in your neck, breathing in your hair like he was committing it to memory. you flicked back and forth until you had your hands at the back of their heads, drawing them closer and closer to you in the center until you closed the gap between them right before your line of vision, and watch as you press their lips together.
they’re so lost in the moment they don’t react how you might have expected them to react given any other circumstance. your wide-eyed stare can't be broken from the sight. frozen there, you can only watch as the two men go at it. it's ravenous, leaving you slack jawed as you fought to regain your breath. their hands are a blur — in a fit of pure chaos darting from place to place — running through one another's hair to clutching at your thighs to grasping at each other's throats. you're lost in the trance that is this, caving backward to lean on your elbows against the bed, cunt throbbing at the scene set before you. admiring your boys, bonding over the one thing they agree on.
as they made work of each other, several seconds passed as your mind raced with the possibilities now laid out before you. in that very moment, you closed your eyes to release a sharp, relieving breath, and then flicked them open.
the chase had just begun.
“i better head out,” your voice startled the both of them out of the fit of passion they were lost in, both flicking their heads to you to give you their full attention, eyes wide at your statement.
dumbfounded words of protest at your suddenly announced departure began tumbling from their mouths, though you were quick to cut it off.
“it’s getting late. we’ve gotta be up early to finish the mission. wouldn’t wanna ruin your beauty sleep,” you grinned at the pair as you rose up from between them on the bed, them remaining frozen there as you sauntered to the door, sending one last glance back to drink in the same stunned expression on both their faces, “see you bright and early, boys.”
#★ LOKIPOKEY JJK#ᝰ.ᐟ lake writes#gojo x you#nanami x you#jjk smut#jjk x reader#gojo smut#nanami smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#gojo x reader#nanami x reader#gojo x you x nanami#gojo x reader x nanami#satoru gojo smut#kento nanami smut
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I wish you would write a fic where Jason thinks he's an intimidating werewolf and everyone else has to convince him he's just a big pupper, and that's okay!!! (You're right; we do sometimes just need a Big Pupper AU!)
Dick refuses to be cowed by some 'roided up runt.
The second armchair from the right is his favourite seat in the family room, and it is unfortunately Jason's favourite as well. He would have thought that, with tonight being the full moon and all, a werewolf would want to be somewhere out on the vast, wooded manor grounds eating baby rabbits or chasing his tail or something, but apparently their resident lycanthrope feels like having a night in. And while Jason had to take precious time to rinse off his dirty paws in the mudroom (lest he soil Alfred's floors), Dick had kicked his shoes into the coat closet with perfect aim and snagged The Seat for himself in preparation for a post-backyard-soccer-game movie night.
Dick is trying to enjoy the cute little dragon movie Damian put on, wrapped up in one of the old throws they keep in the hall closet just outside the den, except his stupid brother has planted himself between Dick and the screen, staring him down like if an evil horse were a fucked up dog. Dick doesn't need to speak wolf to understand what Jason wants from him; he just doesn't care.
"I got here first, Jase," Dick scoffs. "Will you move, please?"
The large, brown wolf does not move, in fact. His gaze is focused and heated like he's trying to spontaneously develop laser vision and kill Dick dead. He's slowly leaning into Dick, razor-sharp teeth inching closer, hackles raising, a low growl rumbling from his massive furry throat. Those finger-sized claws can (and have) tear bigger men than Dick clean into two. His eyes glow in the dim light, rage crackling behind the hard glare.
It's too bad Dick isn't scared at all. A regular person might feel a chill as an unnaturally huge wolf starts snarling and spittling into his face, but Dick has seen this moron with those goofy prepubescent puppy feet and pathetic little "awoo" howls. Jason looks scary and grimlike now, but all Dick can see is the big puppy who likes romance novels and belly rubs. Ignoring the growls that get louder as his hand gets closer, Dick flicks Jason's angry, scrunched up snout without fear. The wolf's eyes seem to burn with indignant rage, and he snaps his huge, killer maw at Dick's outstretched hand a few times.
"Jason," Duke snaps with exasperation from beside them on the corner couch seat. "Shut up."
The wolf turns his pointed gaze at the teen and Dick flicks him again. Suddenly, a nearly three hundred pound wolf pounces straight at him. The chair nearly tips over, even with the reinforced base that Bruce installed in most of the furniture when he got a kid who liked to do flips off of them.
The chair is just not big enough for two large men—much less one large man and a large wolf draped across his lap—but Dick remembers a time when he and a juvenile wolf fit pretty comfortably with fondness, so he'll accept the loss of feeling in his legs for now. Whatever shuts Jason up for the rest of the movie.
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(for the record, wolves get up to like, 180 lbs. jason is a big motherfucker.)
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# I HEART PUBLIC RELATIONS (2)
in order to your boost your popularity as a lifestyle influencer, your manager decides to partner up with anri teieri and jinpachi ego, for a pr stunt with a man from one of japan's most famous content houses: BLUE LOCK.
the rules are simple: choose a man, post three videos together a week, post an (undisclosed) ad weekly, and interact with each other on social media. ooh! don't forget! the more chemistry between you two, the better.
STARRING . . . reo mikage, nagi seishiro, tabito karasu, yo hiori. fem reader!
CANDIDATE 5 — REO MIKAGE
USER: MIKAGE FOLLOWERS: 1.1M (100k were bought) CATEGORY: LIFESTYLE/FOOD
LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION!
you knew you were in for a wild ride once you stepped into the house and saw none other than the heir of mikage corp standing there, pointing his finger at you and stating "she looks pretty! i'd like to work with her." as if he was the one who got to choose. nonetheless, you agreed to work with reo as he seemed like a pretty loaded interesting guy.
turns out, reo is very sweet. the first tiktok you filmed with him was for his account, in which he offered to take you on a shopping spree, with him and you making silly outfits for one another (just casually picking the ugliest clothes in gucci??) and then trying them on in the dressing room. you were filming a vlog for your account too, and you were surprised when reo surprised you with a very stylish outfit for you and him, to "go catch some dinner tomorrow." wow mikage, very smooth. comments went insane because 1. who are you? new friend? untold lore? 2. you are drop dead gorgeous even in the trash outfits that reo picked for you? and 3. please be in more of reo's videos!!
the second tiktok was a dance trend, the da' dip dance. it was done in very uncomfortable clothes, which were the ones reo bought the day before. it was funny to see reo dancing in a suit and tie, and you with a floor-length gown, in the content house. nagi appeared in the background as he was in the kitchen, which caught the attention of viewers. you posted the same dance, except it was filmed inside the restaurant, because with reo mikage, there is no such thing as shame. he cleared the restaurant out anyway because he wanted privacy, though, so the only preying eyes were those of the servers. reo was visibly flushed in the video, and his excuse was the poor lighting of the restaurant. girl that restaurant had better lighting than a photography studio you are not fooling anyone.
the last tiktok you filmed with him was... a food review! reo's comments are always flooded with "oh my god when does this guy ever eat peasant food", so you listened and brought him some of your favorite fast foods for him to try. wingstop is the biggest hit as of now, so you ordered some wings and tenders through a delivery app for him to give an honest review. people loved your video, as they felt they could connect with you and reo over something so mundane. viewers commented on the fact that you and reo looked like and acted like a married couple, which ended up boosting both your accounts even more.
(UN)DISCLOSED AD . . . HELLO FRESH!
we know that reo's meals since he joined the content house were all takeout from fancy restaurants. so when he got approached by hello fresh for a partnership, he agreed in a heartbeat. he made a video with you, the two of you preparing a nice, healthy dinner with the package from hello fresh, captioning the video "date night at home!" with clips of him behind you helping you cut some vegetables, making juice standing next to one another, and hands brushing every so often. fans were amused that reo finally opted for something other than takeout, instead preferring to spend quality time with you by cooking.
"Baya doesn't cook for me anymore, so me and bae always count on @.hellofresh #hellofreshpartner #ad"
THE VIEWS SKYROCKETED! BECAUSE . . .
because reo's lifestyle is extremely lavish, and you were one of the few who got to experience it to the fullest. reo looked like a lovesick puppy around you, and it wasn't hard to notice. he spoiled you rotten, and people could tell due to how your room slowly became flooded with designer after the first week of filming with reo. lovebombing much? the stunt was marvelous, with each of you gaining around 500k followers from it. to celebrate, reo booked a villa in marbella for the two of you to unwind and relax, wanting time for the two of you to get to know one another. plus, more content for the socials!
CANDIDATE 6 — SEISHIRO NAGI
USER: NAGI (reo bought it for him) FOLLOWERS: 940k CATEGORY: GAMING/LIFESTYLE(?)
LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION!
the reason nagi actually went viral is interesting, which is why your management team chose him for you. he went viral because he was in reo's video in the background, and people began to fawn over the shy giant on their screen. he started streaming on twitch and also posting a few tiktoks, which gave him a boost on his overall social media presence. his management came into contact with yours for the stunt because they desperately wanted him to reach 1 million followers.
the first tiktok you filmed on his account was entirely on accident. you were going to film a vlog with him at the house as he didn't want to leave the house at all that day. he pressed record on his phone, and accidentally cut the video way too short. in the frame were you and him, with him saying "um, is this thing on?" and you trying to fix the framing of the camera, "nagi, can you move the cam—" and the video got posted instead of being saved as a funny draft. people were confused as to why that was posted, but it got around 10 million views. fans wanted to know who you were, and they were going to find out soon.
the second tiktok you filmed was for your account, with you preparing breakfast, lunch, and dinner as the "private chef of a famous lazy influencer", it didn't take long for people to put two and two together, seeing nagi in the background and making the video go viral. fans were happy that nagi was finally eating something healthy, and they loved the way in which you laughed at his sleepy self wandering around the kitchen, and also adoring his cute reactions to your food.
for the last tiktok, you gathered clips from nagi's stream, in which you and him played dress to impress. he had bought the two of you vip before filming, which made the competition between you two even funnier. nagi's outfits were absolutely horrendous, with the comments begging you to help him out. he agreed, saying that "i mean, y/n's beautiful and she's got great taste, so she needs to help me out." people did not know what your beauty had to do with your taste in fashion, and came to the conclusion that nagi was beginning to harvest feelings for you. he was way too blunt for his own good.
(UN)DISCLOSED AD . . . CELSIUS!
nagi got reached out to by celsius, as his brand as a gamer required him to constantly be sipping on energy drinks. he filmed the ad with you, as the video focused on you and him sitting next to one another, his head on top of yours. nagi took a sip of the celsius can and then passed on to you, with you doing the same. nagi was too lazy to come up with his own caption, so he copied and pasted one of the many which celsius sent him as an idea. people noticed right away because 1. seishiro nagi does not use caps. 2. seishiro nagi does not use emojis. 3. seishiro nagi does not add captions to his tiktoks. people laughed at his laziness, and saw how he genuinely smiled in the ad by sharing his drink with you. there was a ship name created, and the tag started trending...
You KNOW it's serious when you share a Celsius... 😘❤️👀 @.celsiusuk #Celsiuspartner
THE VIEWS SKYROCKETED! BECAUSE . . .
because nagi smiled whenever he was with you. he started being less aloof in his videos and streams, which caught the attention of the public. they started to wonder what kind of drug you were, because you had nagi HOOKED. he was looking only at you on every video you filmed with him, and he looked for every excuse possible for him to be close to you. it was like watching a little kid fall in love, and you both gained 300k followers from it. when he hit one million followers, you decided to throw a mini surprise for him in his room, and when the video was posted, people saw that for the first time, seishiro nagi willingly threw himself at someone with a biiiig bear hug.
CANDIDATE 7 — TABITO KARASU
USER: OSAKASSASSIN FOLLOWERS: 760k CATEGORY: PSYCHOLOGY/LIFESTYLE
LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION!
when you entered the house and saw none other than tiktok's clown psychologist tabito karasu, you held in your laugh. yes, he loved to analyze people, but that ended up combining with thirst traps and becoming his social media personality. once you got to know him when planning, you realized he wasn't that bad at all.
of course, the first thing karasu suggested you do was a mini series of "advice on how to get a girl" in which he explains the most basic advice on how to ask someone on a date. i wouldn't be surprised if his fanbase were children aspiring to be him, but anywho. he starts off by filming a "so you know how i'm always preaching about how to treat a woman right? we're gonna put it to the test" and proceeds to take you on the best date of your life. he surprises you with flowers, drives you to a nice restaurant, pays for your dinner, takes you for ice cream, and the high and mighty tabito karasu lets you win at every game in the arcade he drags you to. the end of the tiktok contains a screenshot of your text saying "i'd go out with you again :)" and the fans went off in the comments. he didn't show your face, but he did mention that he helped take pictures of you with the plushie he won for you at the arcade.
the second tiktok was on your account, which was an aesthetic video of "come to the arcade with me!" and included clips of the date without seeing karasu. except for the fact that there was a clip of you and the plushie, to which people asked "who took the picture???" your response? "the worker! :)" and all of a sudden people were commenting on karasu's tiktok "yo you working in an arcade now???" and "did you take @.yn out on a date???" yeahhh. you posted on your instagram with the plushie, and also a pic of two ice cream cones, with the caption "late nights" and karasu was tagged at the very end. there were more than 100k comments on your post, gushing about how the two of you seemed like a cute couple.
the final tiktok was a dance trend, filmed at your home (karasu insisted, because "the house is too crowded, and it would ruin the tiktok" ok pretty boy). it was the dumb dick dance, and what karasu didn't expect was for you to not do the dance and hit him straight in the nutsack instead. karasu fell to the floor and people thought it was so funny that the king of rizz got absolutely owned by his date. some people strted commenting "deserved omg i can't stand the guy" to which you replied "well now he can't stand either!!!" you became an icon in the eyes of the public. congratulations.
(UN)DISCLOSED AD . . . POPPI!
another drink guy! karasu partnered up with poppi's healthy sodas because sodas magically cure depression. don't ask me! ask dr karasu. his ad for poppi included a fridge restock, with the whole upper shelf of the fridge being different poppi flavors, as "my girl likes sodas, so i wanna make sure she gets the best of the best. stay healthy, choose poppi." queue the montage of you and him being happy drinking doc pop and the comments saying "for fucks sake just buy regular dr pepper.... cute tiktok i suppose." people were divided, as some said to buy regular coke, and some said the lovesick look you had while filming made them accidentally buy 500 poppi cans.
cleanse your gut, cleanse your mind ✨ @.poppi #poppipartner
THE VIEWS SKYROCKETED! BECAUSE . . .
because karasu is one flirty hoe. he was constantly referring to you as the 'baddie' on his videos, and always having his arm around you. people pointed out that since being with you online, he stopped posting thirst traps, and when asked why, he simply answered "those are for my girl now :)" this man was in too deep he cleared the roster. he cleared his online bench. for a stunt? mhhhmm. you both gained around 100k followers, as your fanbases already knew one another. it was bound to happen. karasu asked you to be his girlfriend around a month after the stunt, and you knew it was coming due to the change in his content from "how to get every girl" to "how to get THE girl". the internet knew something was up when he suddenly started posting "how to be a good boyfriend" cheers to the newlyweds!
CANDIDATE 8 — YO HIORI
USER: HIORIYOOH FOLLOWERS: 1.3M CATEGORY: GAMING/TECH
LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION!
you didn't even have to go inside the house, as hiori had sent you a dm about a potential collab due to his management team and yours coming to contact with one another. you did a stream playing dress to impress, in which hiori commented "let's play together sometime! check your dm :-)" (written by karasu, sent by karasu) and you agreed to his invite to play roblox together.
hiori isn't on tiktok much, so the first tiktok you did was a promo for his livestream, in which you and him decided to play chained together. it was funny to see hiori and you yell and struggle, eventually giving up on the game and ordering takeout while on live, and just becoming a regular hangout. hiori showed a side of himself no one expected him to have—a sociable, extroverted side of himself, as you were so easy to talk to according to him. he was all giggles and smiles with you, which is why he ordered takeout as an excuse to spend more time with you. hiori ended the live and continued getting to know you, with his social media being confused as to why he decided to stop the live so suddenly, with the words "HIORI", "LIVE", "Y/N", "SIMP", and "STOP" trending on x.
the second tiktok filmed was on your account, which was a comic con vlog. hiori was invited as he was a streamer, and he took you with him as his plus one. he asked to cosplay with you, with him being link and asking you to be zelda. cosplay was actually a big word, as you did inspired outfits, but they were obvious enough for everyone to know who you were. which inspired lots of fan pictures, with hiori fan accounts posting them and being like "the couple is at comic con!!!" and starting huge threads on every interaction you two had. the pictures fans took all focused on one thing: hiori's reactions when speaking with you. all smiles by the way. who is this man???
the final tiktok was for your account, and you planned this along with nanase and isagi. you went to the house as hiori had invited you to film both of you playing league of legends before the second part of arcane came out. you and the boys stood outside of hiori's room, knocking the door. once hiori opened it, isagi threw a bouquet towards hiori, with you catching it before it hit him. you couldn't even ask if he was alright, as you got so lost in his eyes. so did he. it went viral. hiori was a whole tomato umemiya could have easily planted in his garden. hiori was definitely shocked and flustered while you filmed content for his socials, causing the internet to make youtube compilations of every time hiori smiled or blushed at the sight of you. millions of views.... millions.
(UN)DISCLOSED AD . . . RAID SHADOW LEGENDS!
there's no surprised he partnered up with raid, as most youtubers do. in order to do the ad, though, he made a SKIT. those typical, drew gooden-esque skits in order to introduce the ad in his video with you, with you participating with him, and even playing raid shadow legends alongside him. since it was a video, there was a clear indication that this was an ad, and people noticed how. again. you were the first person who brought him out of his shell to do a small skit for an ad. fans adored how you and him held in your laughs while filming, and even showed the bloopers for the ad at the end. in the bloopers, though, while you were in frame playing raid, hiori whispered that "you look real pretty here, y/n." he didn't edit his videos because he has an editing team, so when the video was published he noticed that fans could hear his off-screen commentary loud and clear. oops! someone fire the editing team real quick.
"you look real pretty here, y/n—anyway um, okay—look at the screen on your phone, then at the camera and say 'this video is sponsored by raid shadow legends" "this video is sponsored by raid shadow LEGENDS 💜" "how did you do that—"
THE VIEWS SKYROCKETED! BECAUSE . . .
hiori is an absolute sweetheart, whose face went beet red whenever you complimented him in every video. like isagi, mans is shy, give him a break, okay? whether it was your hands brushing against one another, or shoulders bumping while filming, you could see hiori tense up and have his face on fire from how hot it was. his eyes never left your figure if they weren't on the screen in front of him, which said a lot to his og fans. they witnessed a change in hiori, for the better! thanks to you, hiori started to bloom. due to this stunt, both of you gained almost 1 million followers, as the slow-burn was that interesting. hiori gained the balls to ask you out after that. people suspected that perhaps you were dating, but you always said you were really good friends. around five months later, the cat came out of the bag as there were pictures of you two leaving the same apartment, to which you had to clear the air. you had moved into hiori's apartment two months ago.
taglist (open, yippee!): @kaiser1ns @stunies @ryescapades @nyxypoo @littleplantfreak @heartkaji @maruflix @phinbie @vinomino @kunitsyn
#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#reo x reader#nagi x reader#karasu x reader#hiori x reader#blue lock x you#blue lock x female reader#reo mikage x reader#seishiro nagi x reader#tabito karasu x reader#yo hiori x reader#hiori yo x reader#karasu tabito x reader#mikage reo x reader#nagi seishiro x reader
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What about Raccoon! reader and bear! price. I think that would be a funny play on the usual prey hybrid reader.
Like this trash panda keeps leaving berries and cool junk outside Prices cave. He doesn't think the trash is as nice as you do but when he finally catches you and you have to try and explain Raccoon courting to him, he gets to decide if he wants to accept your offering or not!
(idk anything about Raccoon courtship btw I made that up💀)
I’m obsessed. I love this so much.
Maybe you’re bringing him what, in your eyes, isn’t even trash. Anything shiny, soft, or remotely interesting will catch your interest- one man’s trash is another man’s treasure and all that- and of course you want to share your greatest treasures with him.
So you start brining him your best finds as little gifts. The first thing you bring to him is an old disco ball ornament meant to dangle from a rearview mirror (it’s got a few of the reflective tiles missing, but they’re no great loss).
The second gift you bring is one of the reflective, crinkly cat toys that looks like little balls of tinsel (shiny and crinkly!!), and the third gift is a section of shiny copper pipe you found about to be thrown out.
You bring him other, smaller gifts too- those were just your favorites. You bring him some of the little minnows you snatch from the creek’s shallow banks and every pretty rock that catches your eye. If you don’t mind bugs, maybe you even bring him a butterfly with pretty wings or a shiny beetle to enjoy.
And all the while, John is convinced someone is fucking with him. Why is there a pile of 3 flopping, still alive and actively suffocating minnows in front of his den? What’s he even supposed to do with them? Eat them? They’re not even half the size of his pinky finger. Unsure of what to do, he ends up picking them up and taking them back to the water, perplexed by the situation.
But as more and more “surprises” of the like show up, he’s only getting more and more confused. Within a month, he’s found piles of junk in front of his send and he’s had to escort multiple sets of minnows and even a few frogs back to the stream. What’s he supposed to make of all this? What possible reason could someone have for leaving a broken pencil for him to find. Was there some sort of message?? Was that metal pipe supposed to be a threat???
So eventually he gets tired of being messed with and has a stakeout, hiding back in the underbrush and watching the entrance to his den as night falls, hoping to catch the perpetrator in the act.
He falls asleep on watch, only waking up at the sound of light, cautious footsteps near the entrance of his den.
He doesn’t hesitate. He knows this must be who’s been messing with him for the past few weeks.
He shoots out of the bushes, tackling you to the ground and ignoring your shrieks and squawks of protest as he wrestles you onto you back, pinning your arms down and glaring down at you.
“Alright. Jigs up. You had your fun messing around with me, but I’m tired of waking up to crap or half dead animals on my doorstep. Time to fess up.” He growls, looking at where he has your wrists pinned, noticing the mangled, bent metal fork in your hand.
Yep. It’s definitely been you.
“Christ.” He grumbles, plucking the fork from your hand, inspecting the twisted metal. “What the hell even is this? Where do you find this crap?? How much effort have you been putting into messing with me?”
“You don’t like it?” You say, your voice cracking.
John looks down at you, taking in the look of hurt in your eyes and the small, light grey and almost oval shaped ears sticking up from the top of your head.
He sighs, resigning himself. Of course you were a raccoon hybrid. He should’ve realized he was being courted… just the gifts and offerings of food didn’t quite line up with what he considered to be typical courting gifts.
He releases your wrists, sitting back on his heels to take his weight off you and taking a deep breath in.
“No… it’s… it’s fine. I love it…. Why don’t you come on inside.”
(Then like a week later after the two of you talk it out and he starts courting you back he just asks why the fish always had to be alive when you left them there and you just told him to prove that they were fresh)
#asks#anon asks#I litterally never get asks they make me so happy and want to literally explode#john price#hybrid!au#john price x reader#john price x y/n#john price x you#Bear hybrid!Price#raccoon hybrid!reader
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