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sometimesanalice · 2 years ago

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Like I Can (Part 1)

Summary: After yet another bad date and tired of swiping on apps, the Dagger Squad steps in to help you out by setting you up on a series of blind dates. Much to Rooster’s dismay.

Warnings: fuff, slight angst. Minors DNI

Length: 3.2K

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

Part 2

(We’re kicking of Valentine’s Day a bit early❣️ Enjoy!)

“I’m all for growing the sport, but Brady buying an MLP team is ruining the integrity of the league. He may be the GOAT of football, but he has nothing on Ben John’s world-class pickleball game,” your date Max passionately states from his spot across from you at the Italian place he had recommended.

Or was his name Mac?

He’d already told you all about the CRBN paddle drama. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had already prepared a PowerPoint presentation on the topic complete with transitions and color-coded charts. He seems the type.

And he had yet to ask you a single question about yourself all evening.

You can tell he is gearing up for the next part of his rant, when your phone lights up on the table, the ringer on higher than you realized.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I thought I had this on silent. It’s my mom, I should probably take this,” you apologize to him, your phone already halfway raised to your ear.

“Hey, kid, how’s it going?”

“Hi Mom, I’m with someone right now. Is everything ok?” You let a little worry tinge the tone of your voice.

“Seriously?” Rooster drolly rasps on the other end of the line, “Are we actually doing this?”

“Oh no! Is she alright?” You wouldn’t consider yourself actress, but you think you’re really selling the performance with the way you widen your eyes and how you make your voice go a little tighter and higher.

“Yup, seems like we’re really doing this. What’s it this time, kid? Did grandma slip on a banana peel and then get run over by a reindeer?” You can practically feel his eyes rolling as he begrudgingly goes along with you.

“Oh my goodness, that sounds serious! How would that even happen?” you ask, shaking your head in in faux shock determined to really sell the act.

“Is everything ok?” Max-Mac whispers to you from across the table.

His profile didn’t raise any red flags when you’d swiped on him. If anything, he’d seemed a bit more of the beige flag type. Your chats had been fine, he seemed fine, so why not meet up for a date?

What you didn’t realize until it was too late was that “Sports Enthusiast” actually translated to “Pickleball Fanatic”.

“Hold on, Mom,” you hear Rooster scoff as you pull the phone away from your ear. “I’m so sorry, there’s been a family emergency. It’s my grandmother. I really need to go,” you announce to Mac-Max grabbing your purse from the back of the chair. “Thank you so much for understanding. And good luck at your pickleball tournament!” you call back to him as you hustle towards the front door.

“I take it you’ve made your escape?” You can hear the humor in his voice, your antics are nothing new to him.

“Oh my god, was that seriously only thirty minutes? He wouldn’t stop talking about pickleball, Rooster. Anytime I tried to change the subject, he found a way to circle right back to it!” You tell him as you attempt to dig your keys out from where they were buried in your bag. “And then, he pulled up the leg of his jeans and said, I kid you not: ‘Don’t worry, this isn’t an ankle monitor, I’m just wearing my ankle weights.’ Who does that?”

“Just come to the Hard Deck. You should have canceled like I told you to in the first place. Bob and Coyote got back the other day, so everyone’s here. Well, almost everyone,” he says pointedly. “We’re more fun anyways. And Hangman has been harassing me about you, something about your fluke of a win?”

You’d kicked Jake’s ass the last time you played darts with him. Although in his defense, he had been pretty drunk that night and it was a less than fair game since Phoenix would distract him while Fanboy moved your darts on the board.

You wouldn’t be challenging him to a rematch anytime soon. Not unless the odds were in your favor, it was better to keep him on his toes and his ego in check.

Thankful for the princess parking you managed to snag when you first arrived, you unlock your car and toss your bag into the passenger seat before climbing in. Breathing out a sigh of relief to be done with Mac-Max once inside.

“You back in your car yet?” Rooster asked. He was such a worrier, but you can’t say it bothered you. You liked knowing he cared.

“Yeah, just got in.”

“Ok good, see you in a few. Drive safe, kid.”

Thirty minutes later Natasha was sliding a cold, frothy pint in front of you with a sympathetic look.

It wasn’t too busy at the Hard Deck yet, but it was still early in the evening. You knew it would pick up soon, and before long Penny would be ringing her bell on some rowdy unsuspecting customer.

“Ankle weights?” She asked, trying and failing to keep from laughing at your expense.

“Seriously, Rooster?” you shoot a glare in his direction, “Where’s the loyalty?”

“What? She was right there when I called you. A request that was your idea, if you remember,” he said as he walked up to you, squeezing your shoulder before sliding his arm around you in greeting. “Plus, it’s not like you don’t already tell Phoenix about all your escapades. You really know how to pick ‘em, kid.”

You’ve known Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw since before you had braces back when you were still wearing your hair in two braids. Your moms had been on the school PTA together at the time and had hit it off immediately.

He hadn’t been too happy about being forced to hang out with the kid who was couple years younger than him, especially one who was so clearly enamored with the cute older boy. While you’d outgrown that phase, for the most part, somethings stuck- like the nickname.

And over the years you’d formed your own bond outside of the forced proximity of your mothers’ friendship.

He’d taught you how to throw a punch, the different ways to pitch a baseball, and to drive a stick shift. You’d taught him how to whistle with his fingers, to play Nerts, and to tie a tie (after asking your dad to teach you).

The give and take was easy with him, you both showed up for the other.

You were there the night he drunkenly fell through the glass patio door at Jason Cameron’s homecoming party. As one of the only sober people there since he wouldn’t let you drink, or let anyone else give you alcohol for that matter, you were the one to take him to the ER. “Don’t worry, kid,” he had slurred, pressing the Washington High t-shirt that you’d found in your trunk to his face to stop the bleeding, “Looks s’worse than it feels.” And you were the one to stay with him as he was stitched up. The evidence of that night still unmistakable on his face.

He was there for you when your parents had sat you down and told you they were getting a divorce. A hurricane of angst and grief, you hadn’t left your room for anything other than school for over a week when he’d let himself in your room one afternoon. Rubbing small circles on your back as he’d let you cry for a bit, he didn’t even tease you about the stains you’d left behind on his shirt. And then he’d herded you into his crappy car and drove you to the slightly sketchy amusement park an hour away with the Tilt-A-Whirl and the giant corndogs. And when he’d told you “It’s going to be ok, kid” on the ride back home, you believed him.

You had been there for him when his mom passed, and all during that dark period after when he was set on self-destruction after his fallout with Maverick. While he had tried to push everyone away, you were always the type to hold on tightly to the people that mattered.

And then life had sent you on different directions. First when he went to college and then when you did. Next for him the Navy, and then you with your own career, both of you always in motion. You two shared a connection the way people with a long history do, the kind where you could go months without talking but knowing the other person is always right there if you need them. Your camaraderie sustained by texts, email, and the occasional FaceTime.

A long-distance friendship for over a decade.

So when your boss had approached you about a promotion that was dependent on you relocating to the West Coast, you thanked whatever kismet in the universe had you packing for San Diego where he was permanently stationed.

The break up with your boyfriend at the time was entirely too amicable considering how long you had been together. He was nice, the sex was nice, your life together was nice. You had all but signed the paperwork for your promotion when you told him, but he didn’t see himself as a west-coaster and you couldn’t envision yourself as anything but. Whether you had stayed together all that time out of convenience or complacency, you still couldn’t say.

It was easy to fall back into the comfort of your friendship with Rooster. Although the lanky teen you had known was replaced with a mustache sporting well-built man courtesy of the Navy. One that had left you feeling confusingly flustered on more than one occasion, and forced to cycle through your mental highlight reel of embarrassing teen Rooster moments to keep from your mind from wandering.

He’d helped you find your apartment, taught you about avoiding the 15 Northbound, and showed you where the best place in town to get tacos was. The transition was made easy with him by your side as he introduced you to his team members who quickly folded you into their group as one of their own.

That was a little over a year ago. You liked this new life of yours in San Diego.

And while the dating pool of men you could swipe through was much larger, well, some things never changed.

“You don’t get it, Rooster. You’re surrounded by absurdly hot Naval eye candy all day,” you complained gesturing to Natasha, she raised her beer to you as thanks in response. “While you’re getting women throwing themselves at you because of the gold wings, I’m fighting for my life on these stupid apps where all the men on there are posing with fish. It’s brutal!”

You’d need to officially call things off with Max-Mac later, thinking to yourself how glad you were that you never gave him your real number, and instead signing up for a Google voice number. You were just not cut out for the competitive pickleball lifestyle.

“Bradshaw, why don’t you set her up? It’s not like we don’t know enough people who would be better options than these fish men,” Natasha asked, like it was the most logical thing in the world, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, Bradshaw. Tell Nat your super logical reasons for leaving your longtime friend to fend for herself.” You knew where this was heading, so you took a long swig of the beer Phoenix had brought you.

“Seriously, not this again.” His arm that was around you was removed in favor for pinching the bridge of his nose and looking up to the ceiling like it would spare him from the conversation.

“You started it, now tell her.”

“I need another damn drink if we’re going to do this,” Rooster mumbled.

“Me too,” chimed Natasha, clearly reveling in his misery.

“Make that three. I need to catch up.” You hadn’t even stuck around long enough to get a drink at the restaurant, and now you were ready to let loose a bit.

He grunts out some unintelligible thing and then stalks off to the bar shaking his head.

“I’m an upstanding citizen, I pay my taxes, I make a mean peanut butter brownie, and I always drive him around when the Bronco is in the shop for a tune up. It’s literally the least he could do,” you say to Phoenix as you watch him chat with Penny as she works to grab the fresh bottles.

“Oh, so this is thing,” Natasha says decidedly when she eyes the six beers he’s carrying back to the table, three bottles held by the neck in each of his large hands. His classic Hawaiian shirt fluttering with every step, your eyes briefly drifting down to his defined waist.

“Sure is,” you confirm, drawing out the word. Downing the rest of the beer from your pint glass before reaching for one of the new bottles Rooster was divvying out amongst your trio, “I’ve never asked him for anything-”

“That is a boldfaced lie. And you know it,” he cuts in, as he hands you a granola bar from his pocket, that he must have snagged from Penny. “You definitely asked me to set you up with Kyle Cooke from my baseball team in high school. I didn’t do it then, and I’m not doing it now,” he declared, pointing at you with an accusatory finger to further drive the statement home.

“Reasons being?” Natasha wheedled, a mischievous smirk on her face. You could tell she was eating this up, there were two things Natasha Trace loved most in this world: juicy gossip and giving Rooster a hard time.

Ever the showman, he dramatically lifts up a finger, “First of all, everyone I know is an asshole.”

“I am offended on Bob’s behalf,” you countered, unwrapping the bar and taking a bite, annoyed. Hangman might fit the description, but certainly not Bob.

“Two,” he continues on, raising a second finger, and ignoring you completely as if you hadn’t just made a very valid point, “Let’s say I set you with a friend and then you end up hating them. Then you’ll judge me for being friends with them, we’ll argue, and eventually we won’t be friends anymore. Or even worse, I set you up with someone, you hit it off and date for a while. What happens when you break up? I’m left having to pick sides and walk on eggshells around you guys about the other person.”

“God, you’re such a overthinker. That all sounds totally rational, you drama queen,” you look to Phoenix for agreement, but she’s busy typing out a text message on her phone.

“And three, it’s messy as fuck. And I don’t need to hear about your trophy of a one-night stand.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes, “That was one time! It wasn’t a trophy it was a gold medal.”

“Wait, what?” Confusion coloring Natasha’s features.

“One time this guy gave me one of those plastic gold medal things on a lanyard, kind of like the ones they give out at kids soccer games, after we hooked up. I mean, kicked him out right away, but I did keep the medal. It was a good confidence boost,” you shrug. It wasn’t exactly a high point moment for you.

After that encounter you’d definitely started scrutinizing every profile a bit harder before swiping right, or at least you thought you had been. In your defense, at least Max-Mac’s profile didn’t have a fish photo, but the bar was still clearly on the ground.

“I knew you when you wore those shirts with that big mouthed monkey on them. And that’s the kind of shit I don’t need to know about. I don’t wanna be involved. Not gonna happen, kid,” his declaration resolute.

“Well, that sure is something, Bradshaw,” Natasha states, giving him a curious look.

“What are y’all over here discussing so intently,” Hangman questions as he saddles up to your little group, tucking his phone into his pocket.

“We were just getting into the finer details of the kid’s dating life and how I am going to fix it by setting her up with this great guy I know,” she pronounces, looking all too pleased with herself. A truly self-satisfied grin gracing her face.

Natasha Trace was probably the most bad ass person you’ve ever met, so the idea of her setting you up with someone had you sitting up straighter on the stool you were seated on, “Really?”

“Who?” Rooster demands, frowning at her.

“Yeah, I mean Bradshaw clearly has his convictions, and I respect that. However, I’m an excellent wing-woman. Seriously, I don’t know why I haven’t thought about introducing you guys before. You two would be perfect together.”

Hangman never one to miss an opportunity to rile up Rooster is quick to jump in, “Just because you fly in a two-seater doesn’t make you a good wing-woman, Phoenix. However, now that you mention it, I have a buddy who might knock your socks off. Unless you’d rather just knock boots, I’m sure he’d be up for whatever you wanted,” he shooting you a wink. “I think I’ll toss my name in the ring here too. After all, I’m very good.”

“You want to make it a bet, Bagman?” Her accent always got a little more pronounced when she went toe to toe with him.

“What’re you thinkin’, Darlin’?” he drawls suggestively with a sharp smile. That ever-present toothpick being rolled in his mouth from side to side.

“You guys are not going to be making bets around the kid’s love life,” Rooster snaps.

“The big dogs are talking, Bradshaw,” Hangman taunts as he waves him off.

“$50 entry? The dates happen here and at the end the kid picks which date was the best. Winner takes all?” You can see the competitive gleam in her eye.

“Alright, alright. Works for me, Phoenix. I can’t wait to take your money.”

“The hell you are,” Rooster barks, still trying to regain control of the quickly spiraling situation.

Well, this had certainly taken a turn.

You find yourself reaching for your third beer of the night.

And you’re even more surprised when Hangman hollers for the rest of the team to join, and before you know it your dating life takes centerstage as the subject of the bet between the group of competitive naval aviators. Many of the others deciding to join in, never ones to shy away from a bit of rivalry.

“What do you say? You up for it?” Natasha asks, wanting to make sure you were still on board now that her original offer had taken on a life of its own.

You look over and see Rooster looking at you like you’d be crazy to get involved in their kind of chaos. You know he can already tell what your answer will be.

“Why not?” you agree cheerily as he groans into his beer.

At least you would be spared from swiping for a while. It’s what you deserve, you are an upstanding citizen after all.

Get ready for some dates! Part 2

Written as part of @roosterforme’s #Love Is In The Air TGM Fic Challenge!

Song Inspiration Sam Smith’s “Like I Can”.

Thank you Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for letting me bounce ideas off of you!

Edit: I’ve started a tag list for Part 2! Just let me know if you’d like to be added!

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #rooster x reader #rooster x female reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #love is in the air tgm #like i can tgm

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bahablastplz · 4 months ago

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All In | Chapter 7.5 (Changbin)

pairing: Lee Felix x f!reader (mafia au)

summary: You didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you started dating Yang Jungwon, notorious mafia boss. Your life gets flipped upside down when you're found beaten and bloody by SKZ, the rival mafia group, and you're quickly integrated into their lives. What will happen when you try to leave your old life behind and start anew?

chapter summary: Changbin knows what it's like to be weak but he has people he needs to protect. How did Changbin come to join SKZ?

warnings: please see series masterlist for all warnings

series masterlist ~~ series taglist ~~ main masterlist

“You’re weak,” he laughed at me.

When I was in fourth grade, I had gotten the shit beaten out of me when I stood up for my older sister. This guy in her grade was constantly berating her, picking on her, making her feel less than. One time too many she had come home crying and I decided enough was enough.

It didn’t go as planned, of course. He was two years older than me, and so I wasn’t able to stand up for her the way I had wanted to. I had gotten pulverized, more or less, but the relentless torment of my sister had stopped. Mission success?

The night I had gotten beaten up, my sister tended to my wounds in our family bathroom. “Stupid,” she had scolded as she wiped blood from my upper lip. “You should know better. I never want you to get hurt again.”

“Don’t tell Ma,” I had pleaded. Our mother would be sick out of her mind with worry if she saw me covered in blood and bruises.

Our mother was a headstrong, independent woman that had raised us well. Our father had taken off when I was just a baby and I was still too young to remember him, but his existence continued to sour the taste in our mouths to this very day. Since then, our mother had been a provider, working day and night in order to give us everything that we needed. She was overworked, anybody could see that much, but she wanted to make sure she gave her children a long and healthy life.

It was that night that I had vowed that I would become stronger. For her. For my sister. For our family. I would work hard and make sure that I would never get hurt again, but that I was strong and that I could protect my family.

I went out looking for work the very next day. Believe it or not, nobody really looks to hire you if you’re in the fourth grade. But try as I might, I went to every business in town and begged them to hire me. I was persistent, in fact.

“Why would we hire ya, kid?” one older man had spit at me. “With arms like yours, ya would only be a burden. You can’t lug around a potato if you tried.” I was ridiculed for even trying. But try as I might, day in and day out I would show up every morning begging for work, rain or shine.

One day, my luck had finally passed. I guess it was their busy season or something, because when I showed up to his shop at opening I was immediately thrust into work. It was all physical labor and sure, he was right about me not having the strength or stamina yet to truly be of help. But, I had the determination and perseverance. I never complained once, and though I was slower than some of his other workers, he gave me another chance the next day when I came back.

And so, that’s how I acquired my first job. And though my body wasn’t fully equipped for it yet, it certainly became equipped over time. Though I was small, my body started bulking up and giving me the strength to lift hundreds of pounds of materials each and every day.

By the time I reached high school age, I was working 60 hours a week and bringing home hundreds of dollars in cash. My Ma always made it a big thing when I tried to give her the money; I never kept any of it for myself. But I needed her to know I had it handled. If it were up to me, she would never have to work another day of her life and I would provide for us and we would live happily ever after.

It wasn’t long before I got greedy. People wanted me for my strength, after all. But once I found out that underground fighting was a thing… It was almost like I had forgotten about my vow years ago to never let Ma see me get hurt, to never have my sister have to patch me up again. I was leagues above the others, with my physique that I had spent years skillfully crafting. I never told my family the nature behind my new job, but all it entailed was me beating the crap out of other people. And people always bet on me, and they would always win of course. My technique was a little rusty at first but what I lacked in skill I more than made up for in strength. And when I wasn’t fighting and bringing home money, I was in the gym training.

It wasn’t enough. Just a little more. Once I was stronger, I’d be able to protect them.

Never mind the fact that I didn’t get to see much of my Ma or sister anymore, as I was always in the ring or in the gym. All that mattered was that I was powerful. That I had something to show for it.

One day when I showed up to the ring, there was a large crowd and a lot of murmurs that I had never heard before. A new opponent? Nobody had dared to challenge me in eons. But here he was… a man that had a few inches on me in height, but definitely not in raw strength. They called him Chan? I had never heard that name before, so he must be new.

One thing’s for sure, and that I was confident that this was a fight I could win.

“Changbin, right? Why don’t we turn this into a bet?” He had asked me.

I scoffed in his face. “Don’t make me laugh,” I told him. “You’re going to lose enough already, no? Do we really need to bring down your pride, your ego and whatever cash you have in your pocket? Let me do you a favor and spare you here and now.”

The man only grinned in return. I could tell he was cocky and that only pissed me off. My adrenaline was already ready to go.

“How about this. If I win, you’ll consider joining me and my team,” he had said.

“Your team… Yeah, sure buddy. Whatever you say. What about when I win?”

“If you win, Changbin, I’ll give you 10,000 dollars in cash.” My face blanched and my blood ran cold. He couldn’t be serious. He was that confident in himself?

“You’re on, man. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” We stepped into the ring and I cracked my jaw and knuckles in anticipation. I barely noticed the crowd getting larger and larger around us as we prepared.

The makeshift ref blew their whistle and counted us down. “3… 2… 1… Go!” And we were off. I was in my element, of course. Years of training would finally pay off, I thought to myself.

I barely had time to register how fast he was when the whistle blew. In half a second, he was across the ring and in front of my face. I blinked and saw a fist swinging for my face but had just enough time to duck, meeting his jaw with an uppercut. He took it like a champ, of course. Never had I seen someone that wasn’t instantly knocked out by the force of one of my uppercuts. I would usually save that for a finishing move, but today there was something on the line.

He stepped back, his hand cradling his jaw for a second as he took me in. He smiled at me. Usually by now, once my opponent is humbled they would make a last-ditch effort to swing and swing, getting messy in an attempt to stake their claim and win. I saw none of that with Chan. His eyes were sharp, calculating, and for a second I almost felt like prey.

“You’re strong,” he noted. “That’s why I want you.”

“You and everyone else,” I told him. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

I lunged forward, aiming for his stomach but I’m met with air. He dodged my blow? Stumbling forward, I wasn’t expecting to be swept off my feet. I didn’t even see him move! How could he have knocked me off balance that easily?

Squinting, I saw the flash of his shadow moving. He jumped, making to tackle me to the ground but I read him too quickly. I rolled to my side, noticing when he made contact with the ground instead of my frame. ‘Two can play that game,’ I had thought.

I’m on my feet in an instant, taking a defensive stance.

“You’re loyal to a fault,” he said. “A family man. You’re protective, a caregiver. You want to be able to provide.”

“How do you know all this?” I panted. I hadn’t had a fight in the ring this long in years.

“I make it my business to know things,” he provided unhelpfully. “The top fighter in the city? Definitely my business.” I rolled my eyes at that.

He moved forward and lunged with a right swing which I dodged with an arm. I reached to grab him but failed and instead was met with a blow right to my stomach that I had left unprotected. Holy shit. What muscle was this guy hiding? I coughed and sputtered and barely registered the sound of the crowd coming to a roar.

He lifted up his leg as if to kick me and I was thrown into yet another defensive attack, throwing my arms up. I instinctively swung back but he wasn’t there–he had used the momentum from his kick to crouch to the ground, springing up to land an uppercut straight to my nose. I heard a loud crack before everything went dark.

Chan later told me that I had been unconscious for about an hour. When I woke up, the crowd had dispersed and my coach was yelling at me about all the money I had lost him. Chan, in all his glory, had stayed until I was conscious again.

I groaned.

“So about my team,” he said, cracking a grin. “You want to be strong? You want to know how to protect your family, how to protect your mother and sister that you care so much about? There are things they need protecting from that you don’t even know about yet. They’ll be safe if you join SKZ, but if you don’t… bad things will happen to them. Let me tell you about it. Join me for a walk.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

taglist: @shuporanporang ; @purp13st4r ; @eurydiceofterabithia ; @heartsbyandra ; @thicccurls ;

@rylea08 ; @the-sweetest-rose ; @oddracha ; @kapelover ; @goldenmellow ;

@zerefdragn33l ; @uhh-awkward-rightt ; @astudyoftimeywimeystuff ; @kaleigh-2002 ; @thatonexcgirl ;

@mindfreecreator ; @linoalwaysknows ; @velvetmoonlght ; @minahaeyo ; @crystalchuuu ;

@hash2013 ; @skzswife ; @b0bbl3s ; @thecutiepieme ; @bear8585 ;

@moss-the-man ; @softkisshyunjin ; @sylveonitesworld ; @m00njinnie ; @nicoleparadas ;

@starsofasteria ; @klopez01 ; @luvlinos ; @hyunjinnnnnnnnnnnnnn ; @skz-akira ;

@boi-bi-ahaha ; @l33bang24 ; @hermione640 ; @gal82 ; @b-chansbbygirl ;

@kayleefriedchicken ; @notsojourni ; @hogwartslife64 ; @stilltrynafuckingtumble ; @ellelabelle ;

@melleus ; @hyun-bun ; @luminouskalopsia ; @leftovercigarettes ; @sabrina-gal-kpop

@ghostedgameplays ; @wealwayskeepfighting ; @meloncremesoda ; @Lovelino23 ; @bubblerizz ;

@blossominghunnie ; @sunlitangel777 ;

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uneditedidiot · 1 year ago

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gold rush - jamie tartt x reader

jamie tartt x gn!reader

summary: reader is the head physical therapist for AFC Richmond and ever since Jamie returned to the team and has proven himself a better man, you can’t help but harbor feelings for the pro footballer. Takes place during s3ep11. Based off these specific lyrics from the song ‘gold rush’ by Taylor Swift.

word count: 2.9k

Warnings: language - it’s jamie tartt, of course there’s language; declarations of undying love and a first kiss. :)

A/N: I used to write imagines back in like 2012 about One Direction so at least this is somewhat of a step up for me. But my first tumblr imagine so hopefully it’s not complete trash lol.

Part Two: this love is ours

But I don’t like a gold rush, gold rush

I don’t like anticipating my face in a red flush

I don’t like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

You were kidding yourself.

Jamie Tartt, the star of the team, the integral cog in Richmond’s new Total Football machine, the absolute adorable human – that’s who you were in love with? It was almost laughable. If you had told yourself two years ago that Jamie Tartt would be the object of your affection, you wouldn’t have believed a word of it. He had changed. He had changed immensely.

It was…embarrassing in a way. You weren’t embarrassed of him, but more of how you reacted when he was around. And fortunately (or quite unfortunately), he was around quite a bit. As the head physical therapist for the team, you saw most of the players quite often for some reason or another.

Of course, you had no problem interacting with others for their physical care. Sam Obisanya had somehow garnered an elbow injury from playing football as a kid and it had decided to continue to bother him throughout his adulthood. He’d usually stop everyday just to chat, if not work through some stretches for his arm. Jan Maas had a tendency to go down too hard on his left knee when running, so you saw him at least twice a week to lead him through some exercises. Dani Rojas, the sweet sweet man he was, would stop by your office every single morning just to say hello and to make sure his arch support inserts in his boots were fitting right. Colin and Isaac both seemed to suffer from the same achilles tendon strains but on opposite legs. You had no problem assessing their physical needs. You went on with your day like nothing happened.

But Jamie…he was a different story. Just making eye contact when he walked into your office made your cheeks go warm. And having to move his ankle around when you were assessing range of movement? Your entire face and neck would go pink. And that smile…that smile had you giggling and kicking your feet for the rest of the afternoon.

The sass was another issue entirely. Boy, did that man have a MOUTH on him.

When you’d first started at Richmond with Ted and Beard, who’d brought you with them from the States, Jamie was an asswipe. Sometimes he’d barely acknowledge your presence when coming to get treatment. Other times he’d just sit in silence, his eyes following your every movement. At least twice he’d come in for medical help and he’d tried flirting with you. Back then, you’d had no interest in him at all.

It was when he returned that it was clear something in him had changed. You’d observed his new restraint he showed at training and on the field during matches. He was considerate of his teammates, passing them the ball more frequently and encouraging them on and off the field. Keeley had even said she hadn’t seen him with a new girl on his arm for a long while.

But ever since his return, he’d become more and more friendly with you. You’d grown to trust him completely. He was a true friend. Not only that, but the banter you two had was unmatched.

“Do you like the new tat?” he’d asked one day as you wrapped his ankle.

“What is it supposed to be?” you’d chuckled.

He looked almost offended. “It’s a rocketship.”

You’d stood, wrap in hand, attempting to hold back a laugh.

He sighed. “Alright, go ahead. Tell me what you really think.”

“Jamie…it…it looks like…like a dick.”

“It does not look like a dick!”

“Yes it really does.”

“You’ve got vision problems.”

“No I don’t. You’ve got some issues if you think that’s a rocketship.”

“Well so do you if you think it looks like a fuckin’ dick!”

You finally let out the laughter you’d been holding in. You had scurried to the door, thrown it open, and yelled out. “Jamie Tartt had his own dick tattooed to his forearm!”

He’d immediately jumped off the medical table and wrapped his arms around you, attempting to pull you away from the open door. You’d held on to the frame, still laughing and yelling as he did so.

“Jamie has a dick tattoo! Jamie has a dick tattoo!”

He was laughing the whole time, screaming, “no I haven’t!” over you, trying to drown out your yells.

You’d found yourself falling. His eyes would gleam and twinkle in this way that was almost comforting. You’d have done anything to see the light in his eyes again after he’d left your office. It was almost intoxicating, but in a way that felt like home. And while your real home in the States was far away, the closer you’d grown to Jamie, the less you missed it.

It was terrifying. You knew what it would mean if you said something to him; or even admitted it to yourself, frankly.

Jamie was a very well-known figure in the UK. He was a top footballer on a premier team that was making a huge comeback that season. He’d been on a popular reality dating television show (which, sure, he made an ass of himself on but it’s in the past) which had spread his name and face across screens that may not have tuned into the matches before. It obviously didn’t help that he was, in your opinion, one of the handsomest men you’d ever seen.

And others clearly agreed with you. The amount of thirst tweets you’d seen online about him was quite overwhelming. So many people wanted to be the one for Jamie. To hold him, love him, do things to him that you’d never heard of before reading that tweet. They found his tendency to be a prick on the field very hot. And he kept it up, that’s for sure.

Not only that, he was splashed all over the tabloid headlines when Lust Conquers All was airing. Since then, he was a frequent face on front pages of any and all gossip websites. If you were official with him, the amount of hate you’d get, grainy and unflattering pictures online, and generally mean tweets from people who found Jamie hot would be like a tsunami and you weren’t sure how you’d feel about that. Granted, he’d actually have to agree to go out with you first and that seemed so impossible…

Despite his public persona, you knew his heart. And what a wonderful heart it was. He was kind, thoughtful, and empathetic. He was considerate and made sure to take care of others before himself. He was a firework in a dim sky.

And you hated him. You hated him for making you want to be with him. Everything he did sent a shock of love and loathing down every single vertebrae in your spine. It almost hurt.

It wasn’t until the team’s fated match against Manchester City in Manchester did you see a problem. And that problem was himself. Clearly he was not himself. The thought of his father showing up at the match was weighing heavily on his mind. His self-esteem was at an all-time low and the thought of facing his old team and their incredibly intense fanbase didn’t help, either.

You’d sat next to Roy with Keely on his other side during the showing of You’ve Got Mail. You could see just from Jamie’s body language that he wasn’t himself.

You’d sighed as Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan confessed their undying love to each other on the big projection screen. Everyone around you had shed at least one tear, including Roy, but something in you felt numb to it. You had been too busy focusing on the rigid back-of-the-head of Jamie in the front row.

You’d watched in dismay as Jamie snuck out of the room, his hood pulled up over his head. You, Roy, and Keely had followed him all the way to mom’s house. You’d sat and had a delicious cookie made by Simon, his stepfather, and then toured his old childhood bedroom.

You sat on the small twin-sized bed, taking in everything around you. Jamie was the same now as he was as a kid – living and breathing football. The posters on the wall were mainly of famous footballers, including Roy, who had cursed at the sight of his old Chelsea portrait. Even Keeley had gasped when she saw the picture of herself topless with two footballs in front of her chest next to it.

Roy and Keeley flopped down next to you on the bed. They chatted for a moment as you stared off into space.

Everything you had been harboring for Jamie – every single emotion – seemed to hit you all at once. The situation at hand forced it all to the surface.

You loved Jamie Tartt.

It brought tears to your eyes. You sniffled, quickly wiping a hand to your cheek.

“What’s wrong, babes?” Keeley asked worriedly, putting a hand on your shoulder.

You shook your head. Like she’d believe that for a second.

“Come on, out with it,” Roy demanded. “You’ve been almost as fucking miserable as Jamie this past week.”

You inhaled sharply, winding your fingers together awkwardly. Your voice was soft, trembling. “I’m in love with Jamie.”

Keeley smiled at you, then shared a knowing look with Roy.

“We know,” she replied gently.

Your eyes widened, meeting her gaze. “You do?”

“Halle-fucking-lujah,” sighed Roy. “Finally.”

“What do you mean, ‘finally?’” you retorted.

“It’s not like it’s been a fucking secret,” Roy grunted. “It’s clear you love the little prick.”

“He doesn’t…he doesn’t love me back, does he?” It was almost like you had dared yourself to even ask. What if he didn’t? What kind of hurt would that be?

You had expected Keeley to hug you sympathetically or even sigh, but instead…she giggled. “Not to break my promise or anything.” She shrugged. “Yeah. Yeah, he loves you, too.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “Okay, don’t be mean. You don’t need to make things up just to keep me from feeling rejected, Keeley.”

“She wouldn’t tell you that if it wasn’t fucking true,” said Roy. “And I know we came here for Jamie to speak with his mum, but you’d hate yourself if you didn’t fucking say something to him.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Now?”

“Now.”

Keeley agreed. “Yep, I think it’s gotta be tonight, babes. It’s perfect timing. His mum will help him feel better and you both admitting you’re in love?” She squealed and jumped up. “It’s gotta be now!”

“But he’s my best friend,” you replied quietly. “I don’t want it to ruin things.”

“It won’t ruin anything,” Roy shook his head. “If it’s meant to be…it’s fucking meant to be. Not that it’s any of my business.”

“He’s had a crush since he got back to Richmond,” Keeley added. “I know it will work out. Trust us. He’s become a new person and he’s the exact right person for you. You’re perfect for each other. I’m going to be that friend and pressure you to do this.”

You stood, if not somewhat shakily, and nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“You got this!” Keeley called after you as you exited Jamie’s childhood bedroom.

You made your way down the small hallway and the narrow staircase, the air lingering with the scent of fresh baked goods as you descended. You could hear hushed voices coming from the living room. You tried to take soft steps as you approached the door.

“I don’t know, Mum. The best thing to ever happen to me?”

“It sounds like you’re in love.”

“But I’m scared.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you listened.

“Love isn’t supposed to be a walk in the park, Jamie. It can be scary. To put yourself out there on the line. To be vulnerable. To risk getting your heart ripped out and thrown in the rubbish.”

“I’m risking my best friend.”

“But will you regret it if you don’t?”

There was a beat of silence.

“I would die unhappy if I couldn’t tell them how I feel.”

Your feet moved before your brain could catch up. And then you saw him from right inside the doorway. His eyes. The gleaming. The twinkling. The feeling of comfortability. Of home.

He stood without taking his eyes off yours. There was a slight smile playing around his mouth. His hands went into their usual position, clasped and pulling on the bottom hem of his sweatshirt.

Georgie also stood, but she grinned and quickly moved out of the room, saying to her son on the way out, “it’s worth it, love.”

All you could do in the moment was stand there, cheeks going pink under his gaze.

“Erm…did you see me old bedroom?” he said sheepishly, breaking eye contact for a moment.

The start of this conversation somehow seemed to bring you back to the realm of the living. You chuckled. “Yes, I was a massive fan of the old Roy Kent poster you had up. And you know, all the small pictures of butts with thongs and such.”

It was his turn to go red. “Yeah, well, what can I say? Teenage boy hormones.”

“I don’t think it’s just teenage boy hormones, Jamie. That’s just you liking butts.”

You both shared another laugh before it went quiet again.

Now was your chance. Keeley and Roy had said Jamie was at least interested in you, so you needed to say something.

“Um…so, I…I was, uh, talking to Keeley and Roy upstairs,” you began, taking a couple steps toward him.

“Is that what you were doing? Talking? I’d have thought you might be having a threesome.”

You laughed again as he smirked proudly at his comment. But his smile faltered as you seemed to go back to a state of self-conscious anxiety. Jamie’s heartbeat sped up. Usually you would’ve come back with another witty comment.

“What were ya talkin’ about?” he wondered seriously.

“I was just telling them about this…guy I’m interested in.”

The warmth in Jamie’s eyes slowly seemed to be dying like embers of a fire slowly burning down.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. And I was telling them a little about him.”

Jamie nodded, eyes cast down at the floor. He feigned interest. “And what’s he like, then?”

You remembered what Georgie had just told Jamie moments before. Love is scary, but it’s worth the risk.

You took another step closer to him, feeling more confident now. “He’s really sweet. He’s considerate and thoughtful and is willing to learn and grow.”

Jamie nodded again, still half-heartedly listening.

“And he’s funny and makes the best jokes. He can laugh at himself and how dumb he used to be. Although I’d laugh at myself too if I were that much of a prick once. Even turned a whole plan around at Amsterdam once, the idiot.”

His eyes were now back on yours, mouth slightly open in disbelief. The grin seemed to spread over his lips as you continued talking.

“And he’s generous and willing to take care of others despite his own needs. He puts on quite the show at his job though. Oh my god, he can be a bit of a show off, but he’s actively working on it. He always seems to get this like weird ankle injury every once in a while, too. And don’t get me started on his dumb ass tattoos. There’s this one that he says is a rocketship but I SWEAR it’s a penis and –”

“I love you.”

Your words are put on halt by the admittance that Jamie has just put out into the world forever.

He repeated himself with confidence. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Your declaration comes not a second after he’s spoken. And everything seems to spill out at once. “For months now. I’ve tried to hold it in, but I can’t any longer. You make me nervous, Jamie Tartt. You make me blush just by walking into the fucking room. I couldn’t stand touching you because it made my stupid fingers turn red. Your smile alone could light a thousand candles at once. Your laugh could be a grammy-award winning song. Everybody wants you, but you…you are my everything.”

All he says is your name. And then he closes the gap between you two.

His hands go to your waist, his lips find yours. Your arms wind around his neck, hands finding the base of his hairline, weaving your fingers through the strands. There is no space left between your bodies.

Your mouths move in sync, slowly and softly, with a passion you’d never experienced before.

His hand moves from your waist to cup your cheek, turning his head slightly to deepen the kiss. His other hand grasps the fabric of your t-shirt, clinging to you incessantly.

When you pull away for a second, he whispers your name in a way that sends starlight cascading through your very bones.

“Jamie,” you whisper, “you’re my best friend and I love you and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

He smiles. “I think your timing is perfect. Just like you.”

You move to press your lips to his again when Simon calls out from the kitchen.

“Anybody want pie?”

Georgie makes a reappearance in the doorway. She shrieks in delight. “See, love? I told you! What did I tell you?”

She wrestles you away from Jamie and gives you the biggest and tightest hug of your life.

“Mum, you’re gonna squish ‘em!” Jamie protests good-naturedly, pulling back on your shoulder. He slings an arm around your waist, keeping you close.

You knew Jamie would be okay at tomorrow’s match even if his dad did show up.

You loved each other. And that was all he needed.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt #ted lasso #jamie tartt fanfiction #ted lasso fanfiction #fanfiction #imagine #jamie tartt x gn!reader #gn!reader #gold rush #taylor swift lyrics

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animehideout · 11 months ago

Text

LOVE IS THE MOST TWISTED CURSE OF THEM ALL

PART FOUR

Gojo Satoru X Fem! Reader

check part 3 here

check part 5 here

a/n: this part is an introduction to a lot of main events 🫶🏻💕

update : Part 5 is now posted

Music recommendation ♪ : Jealousy x Pacify Her (mashup)

- Morning at Jujutsu High -

This was your first teaching lesson, you gathered your 1st year students. All of them dressed in their training fits, standing there carefully listening as you explained in details the use of the weapon you were holding.

“Each weapon has its own purpose, but remember true strength comes from knowledge and skill not agression”, you said,

as you began elegantly demonstrating for them. With a calm demeanor, you began with fluid movements, effortlessly twirling the heavy sword in your hand,

“Ground yourself, it gives you stability and control” you added, as you took a balance stance, grounding yourself.

You showed them how to block attacks, as they observed you attentively. You then started into striking techniques,

“Always target the pressure point of your enemy” you said smiling as you easily sliced in half the training dummy.

Your skills definitely impressed your students who were watching you, their mouths hang open, and definitely struck a nerve within Satoru who was silently sitting in the stairs, watching you teach.

He hates to admit it even within himself, that you proved him wrong, that you are indeed good with weapons and a good martial arts fighter. He hated every bit of it.

You didn't notice his ghost like presence, you were too busy teaching, giving your all,

“Always remember that Respect, Discipline and Integrity are more important, values are what matter, and without them physical strength means little” you further explained.

“hah values?” said Gojo mockingly, slowly stepping down the stairs joining you in the field.

“oh Gojo-Sensei” said Yuji.

“Before teaching others, why don't you teach yourself..y/n?” he said offensively

Your students' eyes widened in shock.

“I'm teaching Satoru– so leave..please!” you said politely trying not to cause a scene in front of your students after he carelessly humiliated you in front of them.

He approached you, trying to scare you and assert dominance with his huge figure, standing inches away from you. You stood your ground, mind racing with thoughts. What if he slaps you like you did to him last night?

His big hand reached to the sword you were holding yanking it, pulling it and pulling you as well,

“And you speak of balance and control? tch” he mocked.

You kept silent a lump forming in your throat. His hate for you is now public as if both of you aren't married.

“Will you let go?” you said in a monotone receiving a smirk from him “I said. Let. Go”

Gojo did as you said, slightly backing away.

“Have you even been in a real fight or you're just all talk showing off in front of your first year students? remember that even a kid with curse energy is still stronger than you!! bet you would get your ass whooped in a real fight”

“You think so? then why don't you try to prove your point?” you said in a defying tone

“Is it a challenge or a threat?” he cocked his eyebrow,

“Take it however you like..Satoru”

“This Saturday. Right here. We'll see if you can manage to harm me...even a bit” he challenged, involving you into a duel with him.

“Sure but don't be a coward! You better turn off your Infinity” you said trying to sound confident but deep down you can feel your stomach turning and heart racing.

Megumi stepped between both of you pushing Gojo away from you, “That's enough Sensei, y/n sensei is still teaching us”

“Just for you Gumi” he said leaving you all behind, showing his wide smile as if he wasn't literally looking like a demon.

“Are you okay?” asked Nobara worriedly,

“Don't mind him please..he likes to agitate others” Said Megumi

“Yeah I'm fine... let's go back to practice.. each one of you take a training dummy and repeat the movements I had shown you.”

You kept on watching them train trying to take your mind off of your coming duel with your husband, even though you were confident in your Martial Arts skills, Satoru is still the strongest sorcerer around and if he uses his curse energy ....you're doomed.

-Break Time-

You took your plate of food and sat in a table in a corner to eat. You were enjoying your peace until Gojo decided to show up with Mei Mei chatting loudly, they purposely chose a table next to you

“so fucking childish” you muttered to yourself, rolling your eyes and shoving the spoon of rice inside your mouth, trying your best to ignore them and their attempts to get on your nerves.

“So are you coming over tonight?” whined Mei Mei

“Yeah why not” he answered giving his best flirtatious smile.

“Is he cheating?” you thought to yourself, frustration taking over you “Couldn't he at least wait till we divorce”

“I wish we had more women like you Mei Mei, beautiful, strong and skillful” he started, making sure you heard every word.

You knew it was an indirect way to call you weak and talentless.

You hated comparison, you had enough of getting compared to others.

“Oh why would you need other women if you have me” she flirted back

You tightly gripped your spoon, your fingers turning white.

You can't blame him for saying that, despite being your husband he's still a stranger.. after all he didn't even touch you. You couldn't even blame your family for that. Tears gathered in your eyes, blankly looking at your food as memories from your past started to flow.

Flashback

“I just wish you were like your other siblings... strong” said your mom

“Look at them mastering their Jujutsu techniques.. you seriously need to do something about your life y/n” added your father.

Both of them lecturing you about something you literally have no control over.

Locking yourself in your room, crying for hours and blaming yourself for disappointing your clan became your daily habit.

“I'm so sick of myself, I would rather be anyone else rather than being the pathetic me” was what you used to tell yourself everyday before going to sleep.

End of flashback

Comparison did kill you slowly, killed your self-confidence but you grew up to accept yourself for who you are, even became indifferent if your curse broke or not.

But now Gojo brought back your insecurity and your self-awareness and you eagerly wanted nothing more than breaking the curse so you can be a sorcerer like everyone else around you.

And here you are, everyday, patiently waiting for you and Gojo's marriage to do something. Hoping that you wake up and find that the curse that stopped you from being normal fades away.

Crazy how only one person can make you feel disrespected, but are you going to show it? are you going to act weak like what you feel inside?

Hell no!! you're going to keep it to yourself, he can't watch you break down, he can't catch you cry...even if it ripped you to pieces inside, you'll always pretend that Gojo can't affect you.

“Excuse me ..can I sit here?” said a soft voice, waking you up from your trance.

You looked up, your blurry eyes laid on a handsome blonde man standing in front of you.

Gojo eyed both of you in annoyance, waiting for the man's next move. He doesn't want anyone to spoil his plan in making you feel terrible or someone else having your attention.

“S-sure” you stuttered sniffling awkwardly.

“Thank you..Miss” he said and sat so elegantly in front of you.

You started fidgeting with your fingers not sure what to do or say,

“Everywhere else is full of students, I apologize for interrupting your lunch” he said in a soothing voice

“Not at all ..that's okay” you cleared your throat.

“Oh I didn't introduce myself.. I'm Nanami..Kento Nanami.. and you are?”

“I–” you started but got interrupted by no other than Satoru.

“Gojo y/n.. my wife” he answered on your behalf.

Nanami looked between you two in confusion... finally fixating his eyes on you waiting for you to confirm or say something,

“It's y/n..just y/n .. I'm a martial arts' teacher here” you said smiling proudly, extending your hands to Nanami, who gladly shook it back,

“Nice to meet you Y/n”

And Gojo Satoru just watched...

Taglist 🫶🏻

@smolbeanzzz @eolivy @sanriosatoru @khaleesihavilliard @kiki17483 @ryumurin @bookswillfindyouaway @kunikuzushisbeloved @numblytemporary @black-swan-blog27 @sukunasleftkneecap @soulofendlessbook @haitanibros0007 @goldenjoyboyy @tqd4455 @saiyara05 @certainduckanchor @lorako123

@shervinss

@twitabread

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minkkumaz · 4 months ago

Text

DREAM BOY

mark lee was the type of guy that would always live in your subconscious. a stupid boy you've known your entire life, who makes you feel things that best friends shouldn't feel for one another.

❛❛ am i the boy you dreamed of? ❞

PAIRING mark lee x fem!reader SETTINGS friends to lovers. college au. swearing. reader wears glasses. WC 1.0k

CLASS WAS TOO LONG. your eyes lay idle on the clock resting against the wall. time went by slowly in your classes. despite it being hard to focus, you were optimistic about your future. while your professor spoke words that barely settled in your mind, you couldn't help but zone out. staring at the white pillars in the corners of the room, oak desks being held up by a barely stable steel pipe, and the pretty boy to your right.

you've known mark lee for your entire life. he has been with you through every hair color, stupid girl, and the stupid aftermath of it. it was difficult to say that the relationship between the two of you was completely friendly. because it wasn't, but that was never something you could say to his face.

was it still considered a friendship if your heart beat against his chest every time he pulled you close? or when your skin made contact with his? he barely noticed you staring when your thoughts were interrupted.

"y/n, please pay attention. exams are coming up soon and everyone should be ready." your professor called out, making you melt into your seat. "everyone i will see you here tomorrow. get a good sleep tonight."

a sigh of relief left your lips as your professors icy gaze left you. the rustle and bustle of college kids packing up their materials was quickly tuned out.

"y/nnie, please pay attention!" mark mocked, ruffling your hair.

"shut up. i don't have to pay attention to pass that exam." you scoffed, blushing at his touch.

"cocky are we? i guess nobody can tell me the functions of a human mind better than you can. it's not like i got two questions correct that you didn't." he laughed at you, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. "coffee?"

"only if you're paying."

the two of you walked off towards a small coffee shop in the corner of campus. it was pleasing to the eye to say the least. vines and plants arching over the doorway, covered by the delicious scent of pastries and drinks. the aroma almost made you sleepy, suddenly aware of your droopy eyelids and tired body.

"what do you want. matcha latte and a muffin?" mark looked at you as you placed your items down on an empty table.

"you know me too well." your lips perked up into a lazy smile, feeling all the late night studying kick your ass.

"how could i forget anything about you?" he said suddenly before putting his backpack down on the back of a chair and walking into the line.

red tinted your cheeks when you sat down. mark's bold remarks were going to be the absolute death of you. was he even aware what he was doing to you?

you'd truly give anything in the world to be a little more than friends. whether that was wrong to say or not, you didn't know. but if it jeopardized the integrity of your relationship, you could ignore it for just a little longer.

you sat on your phone awaiting the blue headed boy to bring your snacks, but you didn't wait for long. mark sat in front of you and slid the green drink in your direction.

"there you go. one iced matcha tea latte all for you." he took a sip of his own drink, “doesn’t it kind of taste like grass?”

“how would you know what grass tastes like? you haven’t touched it in the many years i’ve known you.” you tease, poking a straw into your drink and swiveling it around in the liquid.

“okay geez you’re too mean this early in the morning.” he faked a frown at you. “i guess i deserve it though.”

"and the muffin?" you tilted your head to the side a bit. your friendship was far past formalities, if he messed up your order, you'd kill him with an empty stomach.

"since i paid, we can share. muffins are pretty good and i'm not letting this go to waste." he grinned at you, pulling down the paper on both sides and biting down into the soft treat.

his lips wrapped around the corner of the baked good, making your eye twitch slightly upon the sight. deciding on playing it bold for the day, you bit into the opposite side almost immediately after him, your faces getting closer by the second.

"you're eager." he pulled away with a half full mouth, picking up a napkin and bringing it up to the side of your lips. his stare almost burned into your face as he wiped yours.

his touch was soft. you instinctively leaned your head into his hand when he nudged your glasses back onto your nose. it was a weird interaction, and the butterflies in your stomach almost fluttered their wings off.

"y/n?" he questioned you, not letting his hand leave your cheek.

"yes?" you mutter, feeling embarrassed at your failed attempt of making a move.

"you're really pretty." he brought his other hand up, practically cupping your face. "if you didn't want to punch me in the face every time i score higher than you, i'd almost want to take you out on a date sometime."

maybe your calculations were slightly incorrect, you should restart.

"me? go out on a date with me?" you let out a short breath after holding it in for what felt like forever. his eyes were so genuine. blinking unknowingly waiting for you to respond to his offer.

"of course i would. don't you feel it too?" his words were almost bittersweet. has he been waiting for you too? did it feel wrong on his end as well?

"but we're supposed to just be friends, it would ruin everything."

"it doesn't have to ruin everything okay? everyone can suck it up. you don't even know how long i've wanted to take you out, y/n." his gaze softened, "you make me laugh until our abs start to hurt, and i do basically almost everything with you. even johnny gets jealous sometimes and is always a little shit about it. but he knows how happy you make me."

mark said so many things like word vomit. you almost couldn't comprehend it. "our minds are really weird sometimes. i never would've thought you'd actually like me.

"who wouldn't? you're real."

"ha ha very funny. i'm just the only one who can keep up with you." you flicked his forehead.

"you wish"

OMI helloo this is really old HAHA i initially wrote this for a friend but decided it was cute and can leave the docs after rotting for almost 2 years.

© 2024 minkkumaz, all rights reserved support your writers by reblogging + giving feedback! it is greatly encouraged and appreciated. thank you! → why feedback + reblogging is so important. ~ (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

#⋆｡˚ my works #mark lee x reader #mark x reader #mark lee fluff #mark lee x you #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct x reader #nct dream fluff #nct 127 fluff #nct fluff

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crystalandparrot · 6 months ago

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Rottmnt x Reader

Chapter 1

Please don’t steal or use ideas without permission :)

This is an AU! The reason will be explained in later chapters, but in this AU, the yokai and mutants are fully integrated with humans. The hidden city mainly consists of Yokai and mutants with the occasional human visitor or partner.

Donatello is an independent scientist who still goes by Othello Von Ryan. He found out through trial and error that he was not made for a group laboratory. Now Donatello mainly confides himself in his lab at the lair, he's expanded of course, a man of his caliber shouldn't have to deal with such a small area. He's made great strives in the scientific community, solving some of the world's leading problems. Having won numerous awards, he still finds himself unfulfilled somehow.

Michelangelo is a successful artist, both on paper and in the kitchen. He records himself on the internet, hoping to inspire young minds to fulfill their dreams, no matter how they may look. He prefers to try anything and everything he can, gaining many new skills and discovering new things about himself. Although his desserts were delicious, the feeling of being alone only left a sour taste in his mouth.

Neon Leon. Successful actor, known for being one of the first openly Yokai actor. He inspired other Yokai's and mutants to remove their disguises and embrace what makes them unique. Leon made the world laugh with his one liners and his comical timing. His range is crazy, going from musicals to action, his talent knows no bounds. Although he has romance on the screen, he couldn't hope for something a little more...real.

Raphael (and don't skin me for this), the sweet turtle, became a guidance counselor for trouble youths. You know those kids that throw chairs? Yeah, Raph helps them. More often than not, Raphael recommends the wrestling team, which Raph just so happens to coach. Raph's helped a lot of kids figure out how to reel in their anger and get to the root of their problems. Raph's even managed to give a few select students permission to cut class and go to the weight room if they felt too angry. But no matter how many people Raph's saved (and no matter how much Raph spoke in the third person), Raph couldn't help but feel like there was one more person he needed to help.

April O' Neal. Some say she's the greatest hands on reporter of all time. With Sunita as her partner and camerawoman, the two get dirty, discovering the real problems that people won't report. April's most successful and controversial paper, "Yokai, Mutants, and Humans, oh my!" gained incredible popularity after people read just how many Yokai and Mutants were feeling neglected. Due to April's paper, the government passed a law, allowing Yokai and Mutants to come up to the surface and reveal themselves with no prejudice. It's still an ongoing battle to give everyone the fairness they deserve, but April and Sunita O'Neil fight for justice.

(Y/n) (L/n). Oh wait! That's you! You're a kind hearted soul who's just gotten a job at the School's library. You must really love the Dewey Decimal System...oh you have a nickname for it? Wonderful...You're a creative soul with a passion for helping. You have a myriad of skills, all of which may not have helped in getting this job, but they might help in getting something else. Your day starts off, relatively normally...

Having just moved back to New York after living in the Hidden City for five years was...different, to say the least. Saying goodbye to the nice old tortoise Yokai you had been staying with, you headed out, bags in hand. "Bye, Mrs. Shapiro! Call me if you need someone to water your plants!" You said, waving to the wrinkly tortoise.

"Oh, goodbye dear. I'm gonna miss you. Oh! Drop by Erin's on your way out!" The tortoise Yokai, Mrs. Shapiro, waved a long clawed hand at the you.

You nod with a smile and shut the door behind you. Heading down the street, you waved to friendly Yokai and mutants that walked past. After seeing the street clear a bit, you pulled your phone and headphones out of your pocket. Popping in the earbuds, you played your favorite playlist you found on Spotify. It was titled, 'Jammy Jams', the description being 'Songs for elite music listeners'. The playlist and many more like it, all with a theme of some sort, Studying, Building, (crime fighting?) Jogging, all came from one account by the name of Othello.

As you scrolled through the playlist, you saw the little notification. 'Othello is listening to Weird Science'. With a shrug, you tapped the notification, the song blasting through your headphones as you matched where Othello was in the song. Definitely an oldie, but it fit him...or her...or them—it fit the vibe! As you continued scrolling, adding some of the songs to your own playlists, you didn't hear the three voices yelling nor the shocked gasps of the onlookers that quickly moved out of the way.

A sudden PUSH and you were on the ground, groaning next to a stranger as Technologic blasted through your headphones.

"C'mon, Dee! He's getting away!" A turtle Yokai with dark hair in a half up, half down bun, ran in place and pointed to the direction that they needed to go. He wore an orange mask, had stickers and paint all over his shell, and in his hands sat a Kusari-fundo.

"No, no, I'm fine, Michael." The turtle Yokai next to you, (Dee?), stood up so suddenly, you thought he teleported. He wore a purple mask that wrapped around his head, his-tech goggles sitting on top. On his arms were multiple hi-tech screens and buttons that wrapped around his arms on large bands. Looking on the ground, he spotted his phone and your own, both faced down. He quickly swiped one up, and tucked it in his pocket, "May this be a lesson never to text while running!" The turtle pointed up at the sky almost heroically.

"You crashed into me!" You said defensively.

The turtle Yokai made a noise of surprise and looked down at you, as if suddenly noticing you for the first time. "I was actually referring to me." He muttered, coughing awkwardly. Without warning, two metal arms came out of his...shell? It had to be a shell, right? But it was more purple and armor like. The cold metal of the arms shook you out of your thoughts as they lifted you onto your feet.

"Oh, uh, thanks." You said, now just as awkward as the Yokai in front of you. "Don't you have to—" you pointed your thumb behind you, where the other turtle was freaking out.

"Donnie!" The orange clad turtle whined.

"Right." With a bit of showmanship, the purple clad turtle picked up your unlocked phone off the ground and handed it to you. As you took it, you noticed how he made sure your fingers did not touch. "Adieu, madam." He gave a slight bow and left, joining his accomplice in their efforts.

You giggled as he left, the whole interaction being odd. You looked down at your phone, the screen dimming. You tapped it to ensure it stayed unlocked and reopened Spotify...except, why were the apps in a different format? And your headphones were cutting out, and the background is different, and...what's the use? You know the truth, you switched your phone.

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exquisiteserotonin · 1 year ago

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Word Count: 4.5K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Summary: After an altercation Ellie has at school, Joel visits you to have a talk

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ only (MDNI, PLEASE), angst, some violence, coarse language, brief talk of losing children and spouse (if this triggers you), Oral sex (Fem receiving), Squirting, PiV sex, Hurt-Comfort sex, Creampie, no use of y/n

A/N: Not-beta'd. I wrote this very, very quickly a few days ago when I was in some kind of incredibly weepy, hormonal mood or perhaps it was the full moon. Either way, that is why there is so much angst. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to share it today, but here we are. Real tears were shed during the writing of this fic. I'm a wife and a mom, hence why there is talk of reader once having a husband and children (Sorry, if that's not your thing or if you cannot relate). This generally follows canon except that Ellie and Joel are more fully integrated right away to the Jackson community.

Read on AO3

Take My Love, Take it Down

Screams, cries, and murmurs filled the freezing Wyoming air. A sharp pain took hold of your chest, creeping up your neck, and over your back as the sounds reached your ears. It sent you in a wave of memory and panic and was followed by the constant crunching of snow under a few shuffling feet. Clutching your chest, you took a few deep breaths as your charges came running towards you calling out your name. Well, your last name anyway. As their teacher, they didn’t get the privilege of knowing your first name.

“She punched me!” One of your older students cried out as a few of his peers pushed him forward presenting him to you.

You winced as you saw blood streaming down his nose, mixed with cold tears that were falling down his face. Other children watched with intrigue as you pulled a few tissues from your coat pocket, bringing them gingerly to his face, gesturing for him to hold pressure to his nose.

“Who punched you, Carter?” You asked as holding gentle hands to his pale freckled face.

He and several other students pointed in the same direction, fingers towards your new student, Ellie. You saw her standing a few yards away, her coat disheveled, the knees of her jeans scattered with dirt, and her face red from the cold, but also, mostly, from her anger. A sigh escaped you as you put your hands on your hips. Gently, you gestured for your other students to return to recess while asking your assisting teacher to bring Carter inside to clean up.

“Ellie, could you come here please?” You requested, beckoning her over with what you hoped was a welcoming gesture.

“It wasn’t my fault, he started coming at me telling me what I should do and how I should be and I--,” her voice was fast and full of rage and pleading.

“Ellie, stop,” you stated, a natural calm imbued in the tone of your voice, “let me see your hand.”

The last words that fell from your lips must have been the perfect disarmament, since her response was to hold her hand out to you immediately. You pulled another tissue from your pocket and began to wipe away remnants of blood on her knuckles. Upon closer examination, any injuries she may have sustained were minor especially compared to what she had inflicted on Carter.

“Carter can be a little much, can’t he?” you added, keeping your gaze on her. “I’m sure whatever he said or did, you've every right to feel the way you did.”

Her eyes lit up in relief at your words. It was a familiar look that you had seen before from your students. The look that lit up when they thought they were about to get away with something. You stilled yourself, holding back emotions that began to well up within you. It was a familiar look you had seen from your own children.

“But just because someone wronged you doesn’t mean that your automatic reaction should be to hit them.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ellie shouted at you. “This place sucks, with all your peace, love, and harmony shit.”

“Ok, you know what? You need to go inside, Ellie,” you stated, somehow retaining your calm. “In fact, everyone we all need to go inside; recess is over, time to get back to work.”

You waved for your students to line up, while pointing at a space directly in front of you with the expectation that Ellie would take the lead. Begrudgingly, she did, the remainder of the students falling in line behind her.

As you trudged through the snow back to the school house, you turned to Ellie, “I think I’ll have to talk to Tommy or Maria about this.”

“Why?!” She snapped and then added, “Just because they got me in here doesn’t mean they’re family.”

“Well then, I guess I have to talk to Tommy’s brother,” you countered, “Joel, right?”

“Go ahead and do it then,” she retorted, “but he’s not my dad either.”

You shrugged but nodded, listening carefully to her words. You never mentioned anything about him being her dad. You just knew that they’d shown up at the gate and were now the newest residents of your quiet community.

Your one-room classroom buzzed with the chaotically happy energy so often found in a classroom. Thankfully, the rest of the day went without incident. Having students from a very young age to teenagers was not something you were used to. It brought a different kind of chaotic energy that was, at the very least, interesting to observe. The mix of pretend play from your youngest students and the giggling gossip from your oldest students represented life in a world that felt like nothing but death. That’s what everyone told you, anyway.

They didn’t even need to tell you, really. You saw it in their eyes; the way that children and their parents greeted you on the street with their eyes crinkled at the corners with joy and gratitude. It should have made you happy. It made you happy in your life before this. Sometimes you wondered to yourself why you were teaching again. No, most of the time you wondered why you were teaching.

You replayed the memory of how it happened as you walked home.

First Maria asked you.

“No, I don’t think so.”

Then Tommy asked you.

“No, I really don’t think I’m the right person for the job.”

Then Maria and Tommy asked you.

The exhaustion that overcame you from their consistent requests eroded what little resistance you had. Their arguments and evidence were hard to defend against especially since you’d been a teacher and that the children in the community loved you. Out of some strange sense of obligation, you refrained from telling them that each day you were just going through the motions. You were like a robot completing an assigned task. Because doing, thinking, or feeling anything else was just too painful.

You reached your home, a cozy little cottage that was more than enough for you. As you closed the door behind, you felt a tight pain in your chest similar to what you felt this morning. You strangely thought of Ellie, then thought of your boys, then your husband. It rose to your throat and it was suddenly hard to breathe. You rushed to the kitchen, filling a glass with much needed water.

A loud knock on your door had you startled. Grabbing a pistol from a kitchen drawer you made your way to the door. The knock came again.

Looking through the peephole allowed you some relief when you saw a familiar, rugged-faced man, with salt and pepper hair standing at your door. It was Joel Miller, Tommy’s older brother and Ellie’s apparent caretaker. You opened the door, pistol still in your hand.

“Hello, I don’t think you’ll be needin’ that,” he gestured towards your gun, “though I won’t hold it against you if keep it nearby.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry” you nodded, “force of habit—please come in.”

You gestured for him to have a seat at a small round dining room table. You placed your gun away in a nearby drawer, observing Joel as he looked around your house. You winced as his eyes settled on a photo of you, your husband, and two children. Reluctantly, after his brief overview of your home, he moved towards your dining room table.

“You’re probably wonderin’ why I’m here,” he said, taking a seat and spreading his legs in a way that you could only describe as hyper-masculine.

You clenched your teeth beneath tightened lips as it spurred inexplicable feelings discomfort and disgust. They prodded at you simply because you had noticed.

“Surprised, yes,” you said, trying to hide the trembling in your voice,“but I think I know why.”

“Ellie gave that boy a bloody nose.”

There was something in his voice, in that Texas drawl that sounded almost like…pride.

“Yes, I know, I was there,” you acknowledged in exasperation, “I’m sure she had her reasons but I don’t think it warranted violence, Mr. Miller.”

“Joel,” he corrected, “I agree, but you have to understand where she’s comin’ from, ma’am.”

“Alright, Joel, can I get you some water?” you offered. “Please don’t call me ma’am, it makes me feel old.”

You gave him your first name along with a glass of water.

“Ellie’s been through a lot,” his voice was hushed and gravel-like as he gave his excuse, “you can’t hold it against her for tryin’ to stand up for herself.”

“Joel,” you said calmly, tapping into the part of your brain where you held the voice you used when talking to parents at conferences, “we’ve all been through a lot here, doesn’t give us the right to start punching people in the face.”

“You don’t know how good you’ve got it, though,” he continued, incredulously, “sittin’ pretty in your perfect little town, with your perfect little job, in your perfect little house---you don’t really know what’s out there right now.”

“What?”

Your hands began to tremble at the words, traveling up your arms, to your neck. It was as though someone lit a burner inside you and your blood was the fuel. Red and hot, like living lava from the volcano of you, it threatened to erupt.

“You haven’t seen the things that I’ve seen,” he grumbled, standing up to pace around your home, his right hand trembling, “or done the things I’ve done.”

“What do you want a medal ‘cuz you’ve smuggled shit and killed some people in the process?” you scoffed and advanced on him. “You know, you roll up in here, saying you’re here for family and you come in to my house, Ellie’s teacher’s house, making excuses for her to bash another child’s face in and you expect me to give you sympathy because you’ve got people’s blood on your hands that you chose to spill?”

“I did what I had to survive,” his voice grew in volume as you stepped closer to him, “and I’m teaching Ellie to do the same.”

“And I am doing exactly the same thing,” you growled at him.

The way his left eye twitched and the way he moved his jaw told you that he wasn’t expecting that answer. Beyond your control, you felt tears start to sting the corner of your eyes. A sudden feeling of helplessness and shame overcame you as felt the sudden urge to explain yourself to a man you had only known in passing for a few days.

“I’m not stupid, Joel; Maria and Tommy are my friends, my good friends,” you spoke, not moving from where you stood. “I know what you lost and I know you know…”

The hatred you felt for yourself amplified as the tears fell freely from your eyes. Your view of Joel was blurry from your tears as you tried to find your words again.

“I know you’re not stupid, I saw you looking at my photos, so you know what I’ve lost,” your lips trembled and stumbled at every word. “I have nightmares all the time and I see them--and how I had to l-leave my, my boys.”

A broken shell of you was all that was left. Maybe Joel was right, maybe you were just a broken shell in a perfect town, with a perfect job, in a perfect house. All of it perfect from the outside, but none of it real. You drew your hands to your face trying to stop the tears from falling from your eyes as Joel stared back at you. You spotted a flinch here and there as he tried to gather the knowledge to comfort you.

“I’m sorry, I--,” he said as he reached a tentative hand towards you, but you shook your head and finally took a step away from him.

“This is how I’m trying to survive, Joel, to try to make things better, but I’m just---just fucking it all up,” you said through tears. “Everyday, I’m doing this job that your brother begged me to do and everyday I wake up and it’s never real. And these kids, they’re depending on me and asking me to help them with the simplest things and I can’t; my chest hurts and I can’t breathe, and I fuck up, and I fail, and I lose everything.”

The tears were falling so freely now that you can’t even see Joel. All you heard is how loud the silence is, louder than the tears and labored breaths that are escaping from you. You tried to mumble something unintelligibly to Joel. An apology. An explanation. But you’re certain it just comes out in even messier sobs. The next sound that floats to your ears is the creaking of your floor beneath Joel’s booted footsteps as he moves towards you and unexpectedly grabs you by the arm to wrap you in the tightest embrace that you’ve felt in the longest time.

Tears stained his leather jacket and shirt as you cry into his chest. He spoke nothing. His comfort came in the rise and fall of his chest as he breaths, in the way that he somehow manages to understand to caress the back of your head and your hair, and in the way that his hands rub your shoulders as he squeezes you tighter as if doing so might somehow expel some of your pain. And somehow it did, if only just a little bit. It was enough to allow you to wrap your arms around his waist in return. Your hands explored his back, rubbing up and down to give him back some of the comfort he had given you.

Everything is still dark behind your closed eyes that are still buried in his shirt. With one quivering exhale, you managed to look up to find him looking back at you. His eyes that were tight with stoicism and anger when he stepped through the threshold of your door had changed. Round, soft, deep brown, and glossy with the onset of tears. You knew them like an old friend because they were just like yours, because they’d seen the same horror and felt the same pain. You took your hands from his waist and cautiously brought them towards his face, learning more with your eyes before he gave you the slightest nod as a form of permission. With your fingers, you gently caressed the wrinkles on his forehead tracing down to his temples until you wiped away the tears that had managed to escape from the corners of his eyes. You held your hands at his cheeks, keeping hold of his gaze with your own. He brought his hands to grip yours, rubbing his thumbs on your wrists before his fingers met your forearms with a touch that was beginning to awaken something inside you.

“I reckon we’re more alike than we are different,” his words were a cathartic confession.

You nodded, uncertainty still circling around you as you caressed his face and began to lace your fingers in his dusty-colored hair. It seemed to be all the permission he needed to dive forward to kiss you as he held your face gently in his hands. But you needed more, as quickly as he had moved in to kiss you, you began to peel his jacket off his broad shoulders, throwing it on a chair at your dinner table. A determined, almost dangerous stare filled his eyes as he discarded the flannel shirt beneath his jacket. You pulled off your sweater and blouse in one skillful move, tossing it without a worry as to where it landed. You were left standing before him only in your jeans and bra.

An obvious hunger had taken over you both, as he lunged at you grabbing you by the waist and pulling you in for a kiss less chaste than the last. Your lips held onto each other, tongues exploring and tasting each other through the remnants of salty tears. You hooked your hands into his belt loops, grabbing him by his ass to push his hips towards yours, feeling his cock beginning to twitch and harden with need.

“Bedroom,” you commanded breathlessly.

He nodded and then lifted you as you leveraged yourself against his chest and shoulders as you wrapped your legs around his waist while he kept his mouth on yours. He threw you on the bed, eliciting a quiet yelp as you bounced on the firm mattress. You shifted yourself further up the bed as he crawled towards you. Pushing yourself up to your knees you moved towards him pulling him to you by his shirt with desperation.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you sighed, gently pulling it over his head.

He smiled and let out a breathy chuckle. It was the first time you’d seen him smile since the moment he reunited with Tommy when he and Ellie first arrived in town. This was different, of course: a little playful and a little dirty and something you hoped, at least in the moment, was just for you.

“Sorry, y’know it’s winter,” he chuckled again as his lips were back on you.

His hand cupped your breast and then his mouth traveled to your shoulder. You lowered your back to the bed, allowing him to come down with you, his arms pushing himself up on either side of you to get a better view for him to admire your body with his eyes. With a gentle touch of your finger nails, you caressed his forearms and triceps. Your eyes studied the broadness of him and how his chest looked especially strong as he propped himself over you.

“I’m gonna apologize, ya know, before we---,” he warned quietly, “it’s been a little while.”

“I reckon we’re more alike than we are different,” you whispered, repeating the words he spoke moments before he kissed you.

Faster than you could think, he was on you again, somehow expertly unclasping your bra as he rolled with you in your bed sheets. You helped him unbuckle, unzip, and pull off his jeans, laughing as he clumsily kicked them off with his boxers somewhere on your carpeted bedroom floor. With an involuntary bite of your lip, you admired his large, uncut cock as he moved towards you, this time helping you unbutton and unzip your jeans. You lifted your hips as he slid your jeans from them, taking your underwear with them tossing them on the floor to join his.

You stared at each other for a few moments, drinking in the view of each other’s bodies, maybe even holding a picture of it in your head to keep as a memory to hold on to forever.

“You sure ‘bout this?” He asked, giving you one more chance to make a smarter, level-headed decision.

“Joel, please,” you implored, your fingers dancing in his hair, “I need this, need you.”

He brought his face close to yours, first pressing his lips to your forehead in a sweet kiss before giving you an equally gentle kiss on your lips. Everything else he did with his mouth however, was anything but sweet and gentle. He led with his tongue, first at your neck and then between the valley of your breasts until he tasted each one, swirling his tongue around the pebbled surface, lightly biting at them with his teeth. The anticipation of where his tongue was leading left you panting. The softness of his lips paired with the coarseness of his mustache and facial hair was the perfect contradiction. Your breath hitched as he kissed your mound, stopping there long enough for you to panic about what he would do next.

“Joel, is everything ok? Is there…is there something wrong?” You propped yourself up on your elbows to look down at him.

“Not at all, sweetheart,” he murmured his voice full of marvel like he’d seen a dream, “just admirin’ the view.”

You smiled and before you could say anything else, his mouth was on you. You closed your eyes and threw your head back, as he worked on you first with a broad lap of his tongue through your folds. He works through them at a torturous pace, pitiful moans echoing through your quiet bedroom. And then he moved faster as he savored you, finding your clit poking at it first with a pointed tip of his tongue until he took it between a tight purse of his lips, sucking on it furiously until you cried out for him to give you more. He swiped a few more heavy stripes down your folds until his lips are on your clit again, sucking and humming, the vibrations making your already sensitive center weepingly wet.

“Oh god, god, Joel,” you moaned, your hands grasping at his hair, “I haven’t felt this good in so long.”

You cried out incoherently as he chuckled and returned his attention to your clit, maneuvering two fingers in and out of you as his lips continue to suck and vibrate on the most sensitive part of you. He continued to move his fingers in and out of your folds at an agonizingly fast pace. You whimpered helplessly, crying out his name over and over as he worshipped your cunt like his own personal idol. The pressure from his mouth intensified on your clit as his fingers pulsed in and out, in and out until you cried out seeing stars. A hot gush of liquid came out of you covering his face and hand, dripping onto your ass and onto the sheets beneath you.

“Shit…fuck, Joel, Joel!” You wail, clutching at the sheets from your orgasm.

He let go of your clit with a gentle kiss that makes your body jolt from overstimulation. Your body was still writhing from your climax, your breaths were still fast as you tried to bring yourself down. Opening your eyes, you lay in a misty daze as Joel crawls towards you, wiping his face and facial hair with the tips of his fingers and the pad of his thumb, taking one last lick of your essence. You hadn’t seen anything so erotic in years and you pulled him close, your chests pressed together as you took him in a long and sensual kiss.

“Oh sweetheart, we made a little mess,” he growled as he positioned himself over you.

“I--I forgot I could do that,” you said, still coasting on the high of your last orgasm.

Joel breathed out with a low and sexy, but at the same time sheepish. You looked at him, seeing his cheeks slightly pink with a mixture of pride and humility.

“Glad I could help you remember,” he replied with a smirk,that quickly changed into a heavy groan as you pumped his girthy cock. “Fuck sweetheart.”

“Need to feel you inside me, Joel,” you pleaded, bucking your hips up to his.

“Yes, baby,” he grunts as you wrap your leg around his thigh.

With a sudden urge you sat up and held him close, kissing him fervently and rolling over him so that his back was on the bed. Your fingernails gently scratched his expansive chest as you straddle him. His eyes gleamed with anticipation that evolved into pure pleasure as you lowered yourself down onto his cock, unable to keep from moaning with the feeling of him stretching you. You bounced on his cock and grind on him with the tightest of circles.

“Oh, fuck, Joel you feel so good,” you cried, your pussy fluttering with each bounce.

“Come on, baby,” he groaned as he started to buck his hips up into you with the same rhythm of your bounce. “Keep ridin’ me, you feel so good.”

Moans and slaps of your skin are all that fills the air in your room. You grabbed at his thighs, feeling ecstasy with each bounce. To your surprise he sat up and grabbed you by the waist, thrusting into you and rolling you over so he’s back on top. For a brief moment, his cock left you and you felt suddenly empty. He settled over, pushing your bent legs up towards your chest. The pad of his thumb easily found your clit again and with a few slaps of his cock at your folds, he was pushing into you again. His hips rocked into you in a new found depth and pace as his thumb continued to circle your bundle of nerves. In this position he felt even wider than he had before and your heart and mind raced with each desperate thrust Joel made. That magic feeling began to will within you again as Joel’s pace became faster and faster.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I don’t think I can hold on much longer,” he growled through thrusts, grabbing your hips tightly and angling them upward.

“Oh god, Joel, please, baby,” you cried, knowing you were right there with him. “Take what you need, baby, please take what you need.”

Neither of you could speak anymore. You’d evolved into an orchestral union of bodies, reaching out for each other and crying out each other's names with each grind, push, and thrust. And like dying stars, you exploded together in your orgasms, crying out praise and gratitude for it all and each other. The way his cock pounded in and out of you so easily and how it mingled with your sticky sweetness took you away for a moment. You began to shake uncontrollably and pulled his face close to yours.

“Oh fuck---I, sweetheart---” was the last thing he moaned before looking to you for a final answer to a question unspoken.

“Come inside me, Joel, it’s OK,” you assured, shaking as he gave one, two, three more thrusts to fill you up with him before he whimpered into the crook of your neck.

You collapsed together on your bed, a tangle of heavy breaths and intertwined limbs. For the longest time, you bathed together in your naked silence, pulling up your quilted comforter over your bodies that were starting to get a little cold from the tiniest bit of winter air that you could feel through the walls.

Through closed eyes you listened to Joel’s heartbeat through his chest where you had rested your head. He had taken your hand and rested it there, gently caressing it with his. More little comforts came to you in the form of him nuzzling your hair with his cheek and kissing your forehead. You could fall asleep like this, but being awake was more fulfilling in every possible way.

“Hey,” you heard his voice whisper as he caressed your hair and then your shoulder, “you asleep?”

“No,” you murmured, waiting and wondering about his next words.

“I’m sorry about Ellie,” he apologized.

“Mmm, it’s okay,” you replied and then added, “just give her time, she’ll find her way.”

Heart beats and deep breaths and caresses between words.

“I think so,” Joel’s voice was rough but more resolved than how he had spoken when he came to your door, “I think with your help, she will.”

You smiled, feeling tears again slip from the corners of your eyes, a cleansing exhale leaving from your lungs. “Thank you for the vote of confidence.”

He shifted, squeezed your shoulder, and brushed your hair out of your face until you were looking up at him.

“Hey, baby,” he said softly and then kissed you, his fingers caressing your skin, “you take what you need.”

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #the last of us hbo #juice bar collective #juice collective

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middlingmay · 3 months ago

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Horse trainer Gale x Veteran Bucky Part 3

Read Part 1 here.

Read Part 2 here.

John goes to the ranch weekly at first, usually with Curt when he heads up on a Saturday.

He's never built anything in his life so he listens and learns as the 'foreman' of their little medical station for the horses, a young fella called John Brady, chatters his ears off about load-bearing this, and flexibility versus rigidity on open plains, and water shedding details, and so on. John likes the kid. He's passionate and knowledgeable and doesn't let the others who used to be higher rank than him boss him around.

He gets to know a few others around the ranch. There's a quiet fella called Crosby who's wicked funny underneath it all but who goes green at the gills when an engine revs too loudly. There's a guy called Hambone with a mean looking scar who sneers at John with gold teeth and pokes and prods at him until John drags him out of sight behind the barn one day and tells him if he doesn't quit it, he's going to be shitting gold for a week. Hambone grins at that, asks "I wondered what was taking you so long?" and tells John to call him Ham after that.

There's also Helen who's the first, even before Brady, to crack the whip and snap at them to knock it off when they're getting too out of hand, and there's Sandra who has the dirtiest jokes of them all and has sent John home with ribs sore from laughing more than once.

He hears them all talk to each other, telling their stories. They stay quiet when it's needed, break the tension with jokes when it's needed, lead someone away for a quiet moment when it's needed, and tell someone to get their head out of their ass. When it's needed.

But John still mostly only talks to Curt, and not on the ranch. They still go out for 'playdates' as his ma calls them and he feels eight years old again standing in his kitchen moaning "Maaa!" as Curt snickers into his hand.

One day, Curt isn't there and John's been feeling off all day. His hands are shaking. He's in one of his rare bouts of trying to give up drinking. Marge catches him in a minute alone and asks if he's okay. Says he seems tense.

"I'd be better with a drink in me."

And Marge shuts him down with a sharp, "No drinking on site and there's no alcohol on the premises at all. If you've had one, you need to leave."

John holds his hands up and promises her he hasn't touched a drop (which is precisely the problem). "But seriously? Not even a glass of wine at dinner at the end of the day?"

Marge shrugs and tells him to ask Gale. So he does.

But Gale seems about as willing to give up his own secrets as John is and rebuts John's question with one of his own. "Why are your hands shaking?"

John gets it. He gets the trade in pounds of flesh. So he bares a little for Gale. He tells him how he took up drinking in the Air Force when he realised what it was really like. How hard it was to send his people in the air and for them not to come back. How it wasn't what he thought it was going to be and had much more to do with taking lives than saving them. And drinking was the only thing that kept him on an even keel to do his job. And now he doesn't know any other way to cope that isn't worse.

Gale answers him in kind, if much more briefly, and says, "Drinking's only ever brought this place trouble, John. Nearly lost it to a drunk. That won't be happening again."

John finds it easy to talk to Gale, and as time goes on, he finds himself driving up a day or two through the week as well. They tend to work together now more often than not, and John draws him into conversations with the clients more and more and he feels a misplaced sense of pride to see Gale integrated with his own clientele more.

One day Gale takes him to meet a horse, and that's when they both find out John is fully afraid of horses. It's definitely a laugh that Gale chokes back when John jumps nearly a foot in the air when the horse snorts at him and stamps its foot.

So they start smaller, and that's when John meets Steve the donkey. Lots of visitors start with the donkeys before they graduate to the horses. Donkeys are more like dogs. They like to play and be petted and they're excellent at comforting people. They don't require folks to be quite as emotionally regulated as horses do.

But Steve is a hellraiser. He bites butts and pushes people over. And it breaks Gale's heart because he's just trying to play, but most people avoid him because of that.

But not John. John loves it and pushes Steve right back, and they become best friends. He and Steve spend nearly a full day together one time, and he finally unburdens himself to someone who isn't Curt or Gale. Turns out donkeys are great listeners.

It's late after he tucks Steve in for the night (literally covers him with a blanket and kisses the soft hair on his head). He goes back to the barn to ask Gale if he can steal one of the rooms for the night since he doesn't want to drive back home this late.

He sees Gale pressed against a wooden pillar by an older, slovenly man. And Gale is no shrinking violent. He has his own fist grasping the man's shirt and bares his teeth, but John is between them, in front of Gale, shoving the man off before he can do anything.

The man spits and stumbles off, telling Gale, "You 'member what I said. I'll bring this whole thing down if I have to."

Gale's furious and shaken and John takes him into the cottage to brew him some tea. The silence stretches for a while but eventually Gale breaks it.

"Remember I said I nearly lost this place to a drunk?"

He does. "That the guy?"

Gale nods. "My dad."

John takes them over to the couch and he can't help himself because it really looks like Gale needs it. So he curls an arm around Gale's shoulder and tugs him into his side, and to his relief Gale goes easily, even eagerly, and takes a deep breath against John's neck.

Gale tells him his dad is threatening to go the papers unless Gale gives him money. His dad used to gamble, and when he'd pissed off too many unscrupulous people, he'd send Gale into place the bets (because they were the kind of people who didn't care about legal gambling ages). And Mr Cleven was going to tell the papers about how he grew up a degenerate gambler, spent time sleeping in bars (because his dad wouldn't take them home), and spent time with criminals (because they were the sort his dad stuck around like flies to honey).

And Gale's voice shakes because even though he knows none of that was his fault, one word of it will be enough to scare off all their funders.

So John holds him until he falls asleep there, and comes up with a plan.

#horse trainer!gale #veteran!john #clegan #buck x bucky #john egan #gale cleven #mota au #masters of the air au #mota #masters of the air #curtis biddick #marjorie spencer #harry crosby #john brady

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 8 months ago

Text

I Cherish You, Halcyon Days: vi

“You’re gonna die, kid. In the worst way possible.”

tags: afab!reader (she/her), angst, slow burn

pairing: gojou x reader + onesided!getou x reader

summary: You’re 15 years old when you’re told you’re going to die. You’re 17 years old when you realize who your killer will be. And you’re 17 years old when you make peace with the fact you wouldn’t want it any other way.

index | previous chapter | next chapter

"Need a pick me up?"

You open your eyes to see the youngest of your grade holding a cold bottle of green tea. "Oh, thanks," you grab the cool bottle from Suguru's hands gratefully. You had been sitting in the living room area on the couch when you started drifting off. Staying up for hours the past couple nights training with Gojou is a draining experience.

"It's not coffee but it has caffeine in it," he takes a seat next you, nestling against the arm on the opposite end of the couch. "Did you have trouble sleeping? When I got up to get water, it smelled like someone had been cooking. Was that you?"

Guilty as charged, you deny nothing. "Was up late bullshittin' and decided to chef it up in the kitchen," you shrug nonchalantly.

Your little training sessions with Gojou always go on longer than you originally planned. He's surprisingly strict and persistent nor does he really hold back with any comments on what you're doing wrong, but they're all fair assessments. So just as you did the first night this began, you cooked you both a late night dinner before skipping off to bed.

"Did you meet that Naoya guy, by the way?" The way Suguru's face twists into an annoyed grimace is enough of answer. I'm already coming up with comebacks for the next time I see him, I wasn't fully prepared the last time. "Yeah, can't believe Gojou wasn't just being overdramatic for once. Please kick that guy's ass if you get paired up in the individual battles." You wonder how it will go since there's an uneven number of combatants. Will it be 1v1 fights split between four of them or will it be an all out jumping with every Kyoto student fighting Suguru and Gojou all at once? You suppose you'll find out in a couple days. "Our legacy is on the line!"

The curse user chuckles, "I'll be sure to defend it fiercely," he vows poshly, bowing with a hand over his heart. "Should I fail, I'll gladly banish myself from your sight for all time."

Giggles slip from your lips with ease. Serious as Suguru looks, he's quite playful. It was something you appreciated during your first days at Jujutsu Tech when you came in a month later than the other first years.

Utahime was a doting senpai, Shoko was kind but respectful, Gojou was annoying and Suguru was helpful with an air of spiritedness. He didn't come at you with wave after wave of prodding questions about where you came from, why you were in Japan or even jokes about your technique the way Gojou did. Yet he was more forward than Shoko who was more content to let you do the reaching. Your transition into being integrated into the already established friend group in a way was thanks to Suguru. You were more grateful than you'd ever reveal.

"You know, if being a sorcerer doesn't work out for you, you should really consider a career in acting." Suguru only snorts at your comment. "I'm serious! I can see you reciting Shakespeare as we speak!"

Suguru rolls his eyes but it's good-natured, "as if a sorcerer would be satisfied in a normal career."

"You never know," you lean against the arm of the couch you're on with a grin. "Having backups might be a good idea! You just don't wanna admit I'm right that you have a flair for theatrics."

One of Suguru's eyebrows raises inquisitively, "what are your plans? After we graduate, I mean," he clarifies as quickly as he asks. "Even before you came to this school, I'm sure that's something you had to think about. Were you planning to go back to your home country after graduation?"

Your eyes dart to the corner of the room and you press your lips together, shoulders stiffening ever-so-slightly. You hope it isn't noticeable but perceptive as Suguru is, you know he can tell. "That's," you think of your mother and father and your uneasy upbringing. How your relationship improved after you moved out the house. It isn't like there'd be much of a problem now that I know what curses are. And even by the time I got to middle school, I got better at ignoring them. It would be different if you moved back in with them. "Something I'm still figuring out, I guess."

It isn't as if you never thought of your future. You knew inevitably that it was something you'd have to cross. You suppose you were just hoping to leave that problem for the [First] of the future to deal with. "I'm not really opposed to staying a sorcerer," you continue truthfully. "But I'm not really sure how the jujutsu scene works in my country. We probably don't have an organized force of jujutsu sorcerers like Japan, maybe I could start one."

Suguru mulls over his next question thoughtfully as if he is unsure he even wants to ask. "Why did you come to Japan, if you don't mind me asking."

You mull over if that's something you want to answer yourself, "well-"

"What are you two talking about over here?" Saved by a bell cosplaying as a lanky, nearly 190 cm teenager with white hair who wears sunglasses indoors. Gojou yawns as he approaches the couch you and Suguru are sitting on, he reaches a hand out almost expectantly to your green tea. You open the bottle, taking another swig before you hand it over before Gojou takes a large gulp himself. One that is literally more than half of the bottle.

"Most of that is mine, Gojou," you remind him a sharp look but there's no real bark or bite in your words, you're too tired.

Gojou shrugs, lips still resting on the neck and finish of the bottle, "I'll get you another one," he mumbles nearly incoherently, drinking the rest without a care in the world.

He's lucky you're more amenable to his morning shenanigans because he's been helping you the past couple nights. "Whatever, just put it in the fridge after you buy it."

"Looks like I jinxed you after all," Suguru chuckles to your right and you groan because he's probably right.

"I'm fighting your jinx with all my might," you mutter back. Apparently, once indulging Gojou becomes habit, it's hard to stop. Or is it a bit much to say you indulge Gojou if the most you really do is share food and drink? You're too tired to consider the nuances in this particular moment.

"What jinx?" Gojou cocks his head to the side.

"Nothing," you yawn again. "It's the nunya jinx where if Gojou asks too many questions, I stop sharing all my snacks with him." It's satisfying to see how both boy looks at you in confusion when you speak in your native tongue. As much of a disadvantage you were put in when you first came to Japan because of it, it's become a nice little source of privacy among your peers that don't know the language. A pocket of something you can keep to yourself. "Anyway, it's just a little inside joke between the non-sorcerer family hailing kids on the block," you wink at Suguru and he closes his eyes with a small smile.

The still-cold bottom of what was once your green tea is placed against your forehead in retribution.

Maybe you won't cook for Gojou tonight.

ー

[Today, 14:43]

Shoko: The Kyoto Tech kids passed us up heading to the training area. Naoya is with them. Have fun with that www.

Me: ^o^ don't worry I won't~

It's a day before the Sister Exchange event truly begins when you see the Kyoto Tech students again.

There's only one training outdoor training facility at this school and so, if you all happen to use it at the same time, there isn't much that can be done about it.

You can see why Utahime listed Kamo Ririka as a person of interest, she's gorgeous. You pointedly ignore your friend sputtering that is not why Ririka had been mentioned in favor of focusing on her pastel pink hair. "I only mentioned her at all because you wanted to know about the Kamo students at Kyoto Tech!"

She whispers furiously in your ear, you personally think the dust of pink on Utahime's cheeks still lean favorably towards your theory. Me thinks the lady doth protest too much, you puff your cheeks in coyly. That only serves to make Utahime press her fingers against them to release the air stored in them. "Also, the person you mentioned before with the green streak in his hair," you spot the very lad yourself. "That's Kumatetsu, he's a second year like you."

"Thank you, Utahime, I appreciate your knowledge."

"I could have told you that," Gojou shrugs.

Your side eye is directs to the boy as quick as ever, "you said you didn't even talk to these guys much last year, how am I supposed to know what you know?"

Four of your seven peers are absent from this coincidental gathering. Haibara and Nanami are on some sort of spur of the moment mission and will be back later in the evening. Shoko and Suguru went on a quest to get drinks from the vending machine. As for Mei Mei, she didn't care for training for an event she wouldn't be part of.

Gojou sticks his tongue at you and you return the favor. "Naoya, looking horrid as ever, I see," Gojou waves at the first year with so much mock enthusiasm, you might have thought he was being genuine when he sauntered over to the Zenin. "I'm not good at holding back so if you go home now, I promise to be nice the next time I see you."

Utahime scowls, "Gojou, they just got here-"

"Eager for my attention I see," Utahime's attempt to stop feathers from being ruffled is futile as Naoya welcomes the jabs with his own. As far as you're concerned, Gojou can rile the Zenin boy up all he wants. "Had I known that, I would have done my best to say hi the other day if I hadn't been interrupted."

You snort as you thumb out a text to Shoko that the Kyoto students have arrived. That she and Suguru should probably prepare for the training grounds to be in shambles when they return. And that if a fight starts between Gojou and the mustard-haired first year, you won't be stopping it.

Me: Hell I'll jump in and help!

Shoko: Getou says he would you not get into a fight but if you do, punch Naoya for him if he doesn't make it back in time.

"Even Icarus had to learn a lesson about flying too close to the sun. I look forward to the day the Six Eyes is humbled and brought back down to earth with the rest of us," you thumb halts over your keyboard, glancing at where Gojou and Naoya presently stand. It irks you at how easily Naoya says it, clearly accustomed to using it. "Hopefully it'll be me. But honestly, why wait for tomorrow when we can see what happens today, Si-"

"He has a name," you close your silver Nokia flip, slipping it into your pocket. You feel the buzz of a message coming through but you choose to ignore it in favor scratching the dark irritating itch growing in your stomach.

"Excuse me?" Two heads look at you at your interjection. Naoya who looks at you like you're an insect large enough to garner attention, and Gojou who tilts his head at you curiously.

"A name," you repeat yourself, setting a hand on your hip as you glare back into amber eyes. They just barely look at you with anything other than cold indifference. "Gojou has one. I call you Whiney the Poo and Bitch Baby in my head all the time and I still manage to call you Zenin Naoya out loud so stop calling him that."

"And what happens if I keep doing it in, senpai?" Never before have you wanted to punch someone this badly. Never and you live with Gojou Satoru, the menace of Tokyo's Jujutsu Tech.

"You wanna say the shit again and find out?" Matter of fact, you want Naoya to say it. You take a step forward, all too eager to put the arrogant first year in his place. "You know what, go ahead. Make my day. Say the shit again and see what happens to your ass."

"Okay," Utahime's hand grips your shoulder tightly before you can take another step. "I think we should just train on that side of the training grounds," she points feverishly to the opposite side of the track field that is considerably further than where the Kyoto students have settled.

The Kyoto second year from the other day ー Kumatetsu, if you remember correctly ー places his own arm in front of the aggravating first year. Pretty third year Ririka sighs in equal parts, dark green eyes darkening as she watches the scene unfolding in front of her. "Yeah, that would be nice, there's just so much space here to train," he agrees with Utahime with swift ease. "Why just bundle up in one little corner here, right?"

"Nah, he can move if he wants to though," you snap in Naoya's direction, nodding your chin to where Utahime's finger leads. "Take your first year before I embarrass his ass in front of everybody."

"No no, there doesn't need to be any fighting," Kumatetsu replies with a frantic but annoyed smiled. "We don't want any problems, we're all allies here. We don't want to fight." As if sensing the mustard-haired first year was about to open his mouth and deny that claim, Kumatetsu covers it with without even blinking. "Ignore him, he doesn't want to fight."

"Yeah, I wouldn't wanna fight me either," you roll your eyes. When you see that particular comment grinds Naoya's gears more than anything, you decide to give yourself the win. Bitch Baby 0, [First] 1, you nod to yourself as Naoya is unceremoniously dragged to the rest of his Kyoto peers in a tight headlock away from you and infinitely further from your tallest classmate.

You tap Utahime's hand lightly. "It's fine, I'm not gonna run over and drop kick him if you let me go." Utahime doesn't look like she entirely believes you and you can't really blame her in this moment. You don't think you've ever been that mad before, not in front of these particular classmates at least. When was the last time I got like this actually, you struggle to sort your thoughts as you try to calm yourself down. Right, right, that time with Takuya and his hair.

Takuya, your old crush from your first and second years of middle school. A core member of your friend group with Chinatsu and Tooru until he moved away after the end of second year. I wonder how he's doing, we haven't heard from him in forever. He was a kind boy, a real sweetheart, that's why you liked him so much. His eyes were as black as the night but your favorite thing about him was his hair. You became friends because of it, actually. His dark red hair was long and almost always kept in a braid.

Then some asshole tried cutting it. That was the first and only school brawl you got into in your entire life, skirt on and all. Thank you, Auntie Chiharu, for not grounding me for punching that guy first.

To think the next time you'd get so angry would be for Gojou's sake.

What has this world come to?

"We're going this way," Utahime tells you firmly, upperclassman voice front and center.

"Fine," you sigh. This motherfucker pissing me off, you glare in Naoya's direction one more time. I haven't cussed like this since my Sakuragi Middle days. Your eyes catch Gojou's shades before you turn, his expression unreadable. Partially because half of his face is obscured, partially because the bottom half of his face gives no clues as to what he might be thinking.

Ugh, he has me over here defending Gojou of all people. This might be more unforgivable than Naoya's presence being generally unpleasant. Your glare narrows with a click of your tongue but you smooth out your face since Gojou is who you're looking at. It isn't like Gojou is the one you're mad at. The same rules from before applies. No one messes with one of us except for us. And even then, there are lines that shouldn't be crossed. You turn to follow Utahime begrudgingly to where she is briskly walking to. When you feel the unmistakable shape of an arm draping across your shoulders, you groan, "Gojou don't start."

Unfortunately, the menace of your class is already snickering much to your chagrin. "Oh [First], you do care!" Gojou swoons, leaning against you as if he's a damsel. "I wouldn't have believed it if I didn't see it myself!"

"I did not do that because I like you," you deny uselessly, knowing it won't matter what you say. "We just have a temporary We Hate Gojou Alliance truce going on right now. The We Hate Zenin Naoya Alliance takes precedence over any of your shenanigans during this time period." Utahime doesn't argue against it, so perhaps there really is a truce going on with Gojou.

"You know, the more you say that, the more I'm convinced that you're secretly the president of my fan club," Gojou all but beams. Maybe it's you but he seems slightly more obnoxious than normal and you decide that's likely a good thing in this particular instance. "You can be honest."

You huff but you don't move to immediately shove his heavy ass off of you. He didn't look like he was particularly bothered by Naoya's nasty comments, but you didn't want to assume when you spoke up. Well as long as he's in a good mood, I guess that's all that matters. "Yeah, yeah, you caught me," you decide to indulge the boy only two days older than you. "Number 1 Gojou Satoru fan right here, don't tell Utahime."

index | previous chapter | next chapter

Extra

Here you go, chapter 6 prime for the reading and a day away from the Sister Exchange Event taking place. Y'all are getting this a day early because I have something to do all day this Friday and I'm not sure if I'd be able to get up then at a proper time.

Anyways, Reader is appalled. Naoya's got you out here defending Gojou's honor and shit, you need to rethink your priorities in life. But at least you can confidently say that you'll call Naoya out on his shit whenever the opportunity presents itself time and time again. Turn us up, Whiney the Poo.

See y'all next week.

Likes and Reblogs appreciated.

#look she's writing #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x you #geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto x you #getou x you #i cherish you halcyon days

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bat-snake · 2 months ago

Text

My take on a distant future AU (that depends on Aaravos sacrificing so much energy into finally ensuring Leola's return that he has to abandon his mortal form for a bit - much to her heartbreak) and so

I have no idea how to connect all of these things and have a few vague ideas about who the New Gang is (one of them is a Moonshadow/Sunfire elf with a human grandma, who works for the Katolis Historical Society as a tour guide and she is e x h u s t e d)

There are so many more humans that figured out how to connect to a primal source, but it's like a small rural town's worth because it's still very hard to connect and requires a lot of introspection.

I'm trying to decide if Leola has just one child (named after Callum) or if she has two (named after Callum and Claudia). She's also looking after one of the New Gang, who is also in a coma. But because she connected to the Star primal and she couldn't handle the depths of Infinity, and not because of The Thing that knocked out all the elf kids under 10.

Zym is going strong as the Dragon King and is pretty well adored. Especially since Thunderfall is a thriving integrated city at this point.

And of course, aside from a Molly Gru-esque "How dare you come to me now, when I am this??? (burnt out and exhausted and lonely)" response to his return, Leola makes a pretty clear threat regarding Aaravos and his grandchild(ren).

Basically a "If I even hear a hint that you are pulling destructive stings for my child(ren) that you did for me, I will personally put you in a pearl myself and I will bind myself to it because I know how. Anyway! Humans figured out how to capture an obscura reflection! They put mirrors in a tiny box! I have mourned so many human friends that I am about to snap! The light in side me is dying! I really need you to just be my dad right now or I am going to lose it!"

There's a Rayllum grandchild running around as the new guardian of the Moon Nexus. Her name is Odette. (Which I. Realize now is ironic name choice with the whole "moon touching the lake" thing and was not deliberate on my part but I'm sticking to it. Give her eleven swans I guess)

#The Dragon Prince #TDP #TDP Future AU #All wildly loose ideas where I don't know how to connect them at all #Odette is a kickass Moonshadow Elf name come on

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excalibur-gone-missing · 7 months ago

Note

Hello, hope this message finds you well!!!

My birthday is tomorrow and I was wondering if I could request something for Wonwoo or Jeonghan,,, something that starts as angst and ends as fluff maybe? I've been feeling so shitty lately, sigh.

But also!!! I totally understand if you don't accept this req hehe

Have a good day/night ahead ❤️

P.S. if you accept anons, can I be 🦷 ?

Paring: wonwoo x fem!reader, jeonghan x fem!reader

Requested: yes

Genre: fluff, angst

Warning(s): cheating, a bit of violence

Summary: wonwoo cheats and jeonghan swoops in to save the day

Word count: 1.0k

Other works

Beta reader: none (its not proof read)

disclaimer: this is not the exact representation of the subjects in real life. I just use them for my inspiration.

a/n: I request each and every one of you to comment on this fic don't be a silent reader it helps me as an author to understand my readers and i would love to communicate with all of you. Constructive criticism is always welcomed by me so do talk about this fic or send me an ask.

[permanent taglist] [only for those interested, don’t fill the form otherwise]

----

a/n 2: hey! happy birthday!! or advanced birthday! I wanted to post a proper fic, but as its your birthday, i didnt want to make you wait. so a drabble for i shall provide :)

plus i hope you feel better soon. im rooting for you!!!!!!

btw yes i accept anons, and i would love to talk with all of you! ✨✨✨✨

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

Wonwoo is a busy man. I mean of course he is. The stelar kid of the family, the only child to get a medical degree and also the one to have a fiancé at the age of thirty-one ready to get married and start his own family.

The man was just the epitome of brilliance and was always diligent and hardworking. He was filled with back up plans and made more back up plans for those said back up plans. He was so into creating the perfect life for himself, he even made sure that he has another lady in store to be on the safe side because what if this one leaves him?

Now this is where you come to play. Unbeknownst to you the doctor you had been dating for the better half of two years, has already made plans for his happily ever after with another. What is more hilarious is the one said lover of his is none other than your distant cousin.

Being a woman with normal job that requires working for normal hours in the office, you accepted the fact that you would never understand the intensive hours these doctors work. Yes there were times when he was not called on his pager but his phone and was asked to immediately go to the hospital. Yes there were times when you had gone to the hospital to surprise him only to know that he was not there. And yes he specifically told you he wanted to keep the relationship private as all his coworkers are too nosy for their good.

Should you have figured out that the one guy you were madly in love with was already set to become the husband of other?

Yes

But did you?

Absolutely not!

Maybe that is why he kept you around, you were easy to lie to or were you just a good lay?

You would never know. Funnily enough you wouldn’t have know about the woman either if she wouldn’t have come to your house after your genius of a lover forgot to turn of his location during his nightly escapades with you.

The lady came storming into the house looked around in search of the man who had wronged her all while screaming at the top of her lungs at trying to make her presence known.

You would have never felt the hurt you felt that day if Wonwoo knew how to be a loyal man to his fiancé. You would have never have to hear the words, “this is the bitch you were fucking behind my back all this time,” from that lady. While she slapped you like she hated you and took jabs at your pride.

She made you question your integrity, your life and all your actions. Was it your fault that the man who said sweet ‘I love you’s to you every night was also telling them to his beloved fiancé. Maybe it was.

But the deed was done your self-respect was destroyed. Now you would always look at the mirror and realize that it was you who was the other woman. It was you who took the beautiful fantasy of one home away from another.

You left Wonwoo that day. He never tried to call. You were never important to him anyway. He left you broken, questioning your values, your life, and your actions.

This hurt more than any breakup you had been through because it was when you realized how naïve you were, how it was easy to lie to you. It made you feel like shit and there was no going back.

You stopped visiting your family, and meeting too scared to see those disappointed looks on their faces. What if you stumbled upon her when there was a function, she would hate you and you were too scared to face anyone let alone yourself.

She got married to him anyway. It was just a small hiccup in their relationship, while it did indeed destroyed you, they were happy. It is all that mattered to them. And although you would give them the credit for moving on with their lives, you couldn’t say the same for yourself.

It was then you had met Jeonghan, the man was funny and jovial, a bit of a prankster. He was exactly what you needed to escape life. He was the breath of fresh air you needed. He anchored you to reality and let to feel the happiness of life.

The friendship you both had built, had come shattering down one day when you got to realize he was friends with none other than the man you threw you down the shameful spiral of self-hatred.

That week you reused to talk to the man, at all. He suddenly made your skin crawl. For if he were friends with a man as despicable as Wonwoo after all his deeds, how much of a monster could he actually be. You didn’t want to stick around to get to know that.

Exactly a week after that Jeonghan was standing at your door. And was ready to make you talk no matter what. And talk you did that day. You shouted at the man for a whole hour to make sure he understood you would never be the other woman again. You were fooled once but you refused to be fooled twice.

After your shouting spree, he had held you to calm you down and told you he didn’t know what had Wonwoo done. He apologized profusely for the hurt his friend caused you while relentlessly promising to never betray you.

That day he asked you for a chance and just asked you to trust him for this once and let him in your life. He promised he would make sure you never you feel any less than what you should. He promised that you were enough for him and would spend his whole life proving it to you.

Surprisingly enough he did. He never left you once after that, never let you question your worth. Now after almost thirty years. You are happy with the man. You have lived a life were you enjoyed every bit of it. Jeonghan made sure you did. With your three kids happy and settled, you both went to live in the countryside seeking the peace that comes with it. You are happy and you are sure you would trade the whole world for this happiness. But good for you, you don’t need to.

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a/n 3: i hope you liked this !!

#svt #seventeen #excalibur asks #anon asks #excalibur talks #svt drabbles #svt wonwoo #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen imagines #seventeen jeonghan #svt jeonghan #svt angst #svt au #svt fanfic #svt imagines #excalibur fics

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