#i have to be up at 6 the next morning to get ready for work so it’s not the same
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nickgurl4life · 2 days ago
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ANNIVERSARY BEACH DAY
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NNN
Warnings!Content- fluff, cuddling, breakfast in bed, small makeout session, mentions of sex (but no sex), talking about kids/marriage, swimming, 3 year anniversary, proposal.
!NOT PROOFREAD!
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The day was finally here. It's yours and Matt's 3 year anniversary, and he was pumped. Matt had planned it all out. He set an alarm the night before so he could wake up early. It's 6:30 AM, and he just woke up to his alarm and is in the kitchen starting breakfast. After about 30 minutes he finished the food and he looked at the clock, 7:00 AM is what the clock said.
He gently places the plates of food and a cup of orange juice onto the tray and walks to your shared room. He gently places the tray onto the nightstand and sits next to your head on your side of the bed. He looks down at your beautiful sleeping form with lovesick eyes. "My pretty girl..." he whispers as he gently threads his fingers through your hair.
"Baby, it's time to wake up." He says softly as he leans down and kisses your cheek, hoping to lull you awake, but it didn't work, and he wasn't surprised. You were always a deep sleeper, and when he got you awake, oh god, it wasn't a pretty sight. "Baby, I made you food." He says in a gentle tone and watches as your eyes peek open. "You asshole your already awake!" He chuckles and playfully pokes your cheek, causing you to let out a giggle.
You shift into a more comfy spot and gently pull him on top of you, holding him close. He smiles and wraps his strong arms around you and gently squeezes. "You're clingy this morning..." he says with a soft chuckle. "You're so warm..." You murmur into his neck as your hands rub up and down his back.
After a bit of cuddling, he climbs off of you, pulling an upset whine out of you as you sit up. He grabs the tray of food off the nightstand and places it on the bed, the upset look on your face disappearing and being replaced with a happy expression as you stare at the food. The tray consists of a plate of bacon, 2 fried eggs, a cup of orange juice, 2 pieces of avocado toast, and a small plate of sausage. "Baby, you didn't have to make all of this, I probably won't eat half of it!" You say with a chuckle as you reach out to grab a piece of avocado toast, taking a bite of it and letting a soft groan at the delicious taste.
"Yes, I know, but I wanted to make sure you're full because you've been avoiding food and don't think I haven't noticed, babe," he says with a small frown as he watches you chow down on the avocado toast, making the sides of his mouth twinge up into a soft smile at the adorable sight. "You're adorable, you know that?" He says as he tucks some of your hair behind your ear. You keep eating, completely ignoring the compliments as you devour the food he made, drawing a chuckle from him.
After you finish eating, he sets the tray onto the nightstands and cuddles up to you again. "Happy Anniversary, baby..." he says softly as he presses soft kisses all over your face. "Mhmph...happy anniversary..." you say softly as your hands softly trace circles on his back as he slowly kisses from your cheek to your lips, grazing them over yours as you gently ease into him. His hands drag from your back down to your ass but your hands reach back to gently stop him. He knows you're not in the mood without you having to speak as you guys just go back to gently kissing. His hands gently slide under your shirt to glide on your back with a reassuring touch as he goes back to kissing your face.
"For today I was thinking-" he pauses to place more kisses along your face, "we could go to the beach for our anniversary~" he says as he pulls back to see you. He chuckles as you smile big and your eyes light up, "I love beaches! Are we actually going?" You say in a happy tone as you slowly sit up, he knows your also excited cause you just bought new bathing suits a couple weeks ago. "Yes baby we're going to the beach so-" he pats your butt a bit as a signal to get ready. With the signal you jump up and go to your closet, looking through it till you pull out a black bikini, the rims of the material white and the material a silky but comfy material.
As you slip on the bikini, he grabs black swim trunks out of his drawer and strips naked before slipping them on. When you guys are ready, you're grabbing your sunglasses before he does a cute little wolf whistle, "God damn my girlfriends hot." He says as he gently hits your ass, causing you to giggle. "God if we weren't going out I would fuck you right her right now in this bikini...." he says as you grab your sunglasses, putting them on your head. "Okay! I'm ready!" You say excitedly as you interlock your fingers with his.
After a long 30 minute drive you guys finally arrive at the beach and he watches as you run down to the spot you want to lay your towels like a little kid excited to go swim, he chuckles as he finally gets to you and you guys lay your towels down. He plops down, and you groan, "Matt, I wanna swim cmonn!" You whine as you try to grab his hand. "Babe, hold on one second. I'm putting our phones in the bag!" He says with a chuckle as he stands up. You guys dart to the water and dive in. It's late, almost sunfall, so not many people are there with you. After a while of swimming, you guys walk back to your towels at your designated spot and plop down with a sigh. "Matt, can you grab my water out of the bag?" You say softly, and he nods, reaching into the bag, and as he's grabbing the water, he sees the black velvety ring box... Oh, right, he was supposed to propose here. He hands you your water before looking down, after some thinking he looks at you.
"Look, babe, I know this is very sudden and out there, but we've been together 3 years...and I know we're still young but...how do you feel about kids?" He says nervously, and your eyes widen and your eyebrows shoot up. His hearts are racing, and his brains fail to think anything, but
"Oh shit, oh shit oh shit oh shit."
"Uh, I mean yeah but not at this age but I've thought about it." You say with a smile as you sip your water. He feels himself calm down as you say you've though about it. "Well have you thought about marriage...by chance?" He says softly as he keeps staring gently, his hands trembling. "Oh yeah...yeah I've thought about that a lot!" You say with a chuckle.
"Well if you've thought about it then...what better time then now~" he says as he pulls the ring box out of the bag and opens it. Your so stunned that you stay silent and frozen, eyes stuck on the ring box. "I-i...Matt are you-" before you can finish he's nodding. "Yes baby...will you marry me?" He says and you feel your head spin as you barely process his words. He sits there nervously as you stay silent.
"Baby answer me please..." he says shakily as he tilts his head a bit. As you process it a big smile grows on your face and you nod. "Yes! Yes yes I will!" You squeal happily and he almost tackles you into the beach towel happily. "Oh my god-" he says as his voice cracks, before he can even realize it his tears are soaking your shoulder and yours his. After you guys have calmed down he pulls back to look at you.
"My fiance" he whispers as he gently kisses your head before pulling you back into a hug. The sun slowly sets and you are left in the darkness hugging the love of your life, the only thing you guys are thinking is "this will be a anniversary to remember..."
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(Omg this was my first ever fic and I'm so sorry if it sucks, I'll happily except tips and advice cause I need it 😭❤️)
( Dividers from @bernardsbendystraws )
If you wanna be on my taglist click HERE!
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flying-cat · 1 month ago
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ily bakugou katsuki u are the only thing that hasn't pissed me off today
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#today i was basically told that i have to take all of my breaks at work back to back to back within one hour two hours after i clock in#which means that i don't get a break at all later during the night so i don't fucking Want that but i have no other choice because#i'm basically being cornered into doing it by one of the managers who texted my department lead and said i tried to get someone to#cover me for my break at “almost 7 when everyone is going home” which is a fucking lie i asked at 6#who the fuck wants to take all of their breaks in one hour two hours after they start their eight hour shift#i asked for someone to cover me at 6 because i had to use the bathroom really fucking badly and she was like#“why didn't you take them while the midshift was here” the midshift has a three hour overlap with my shift and i have to be clocked in#for at least two hours before i take any breaks at all and i don't want to take all of my breaks at once that soon#ONE HOUR BEFORE MY COWORKER LEAVES#and like we both have stuff to do????#all three breaks two hours into my shift then nothing for the next six fucking hours funniest joke i've ever heard in my entire life#except it's not a joke because it's from a manager so if i don't do this stupid ass shit i could get disciplined or fired#because they don't want to send anyone to cover for me#you know what's even funnier? i am the ONLY PERSON scheduled for these fucking 2-10 shifts except for our full time guy#my other coworkers? 4-10. i don't want this fucking 2-10 shift get me the fuck OFF OF IT#EATS MY ENTIRE FUCKING DAY#i woke up at 8:30am this morning and it still felt like my entire goddamn day was stolen from me because i wake up have time to myself for#about 5 hours out of my whole day then i have to get ready and get my ass to work until the end of the fucking day#tag rant#tag vent#bakugou katsuki#i feel like this is something i should call my union rep about but idk
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iliveinprocrasti-nationn · 8 months ago
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one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else
#i have to sleep a lot. i’m at the point where functioning requires 8 hours of sleep if not more#I should probably be getting 10+ but i’m a student and i work so 8 is the minimum. but then also getting ready for bed is a whole process s#the whole thing can take 10-12 hours depending how much im sleeping. just to make sure i can do anything#that is time in my day i cannot use for anything else. it’s not ‘oh but i can push through it’ because i can’t without spending the next da#lightheaded and nauseous and vaguely dizzy and with such intense brain fog I can’t think with my fatigue so bad i genuinely don’t know how#get myself to work a lot of days. my abled peers don’t have to deal with this at all. they have unlimited study time if they want to#and yeah it is a choice i’m making that’s true i could just not do. except i would lose my job and fail out of college because i would not#be able to get to classes or do my homework or think. but being told ‘but you are making choices about your life’ when i have lost so much#of what i used to be able to do because i am spiralling down and continuing to get worse is so.#literally last year i would wake up at 6:30 and then go to school till 3 and then go to my internship until 10 and get home at 11 and be in#bed anywhere from midnight to two in the morning and then wake up the next day and do it all again. i graduated with a 3.9 gpa and made it#into my top college while dealing with my cancer symptoms and then the two surgeries about it#but now i lose half my day to just making sure i can get out of bed. i can’t go anywhere because my body is physically too exhausted#any extra time goes into doing homework or occasionally time to myself#not decimating my health by doing minimum body care responsibilities isn’t freeing. occasionally i have a good day which is freeing but tha#usually goes into just. other things outside class or work or eating. I don’t go do something for myself or go do something fun on good day#because I still can’t. good days just mean i don’t want to lie down on the pavement when i’m going somewhere#I just. I don’t magically have control over my life because i try to get enough sleep. i lose half my day to doing that and ultimately it’s#just a bodily function that would have to happen anyway#this is a vent post im just having a really hard time right now because it feels like im in exponential decline. it was nowhere near this#bad last semester. my grades are tanking and i have no free time because anything outside of sleep is either work or school#vent tw#yall can rb this just ignore my tags completely#disability#chronically ill#i keep trying to explain to people how pots works because that’s all logical but there’s no way to explain what it’s doing to my body or ho#i feel all the time. the last time i felt this bad was when i had a bad flu or immediately after surgeries because i don’t react well to#anesthesia and always come out of them feeling like shit. and now i just feel like this all the time and it’s only getting worse#I can’t even stay up late anymore because my body feels like it isn’t counting the sleep even if I get 8 hours#I can deal if I have a free day the day after but that just leaves Friday and Saturday nights and I usually still have to do homework
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deva-arts · 8 months ago
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☆ Nathaniel Wilson ☆
I Really Like Nathaniel because the guy embodies Hope and Positivity without forcing it down the gullets of everyone around him.
He looks like he'd be a pleasant individual to actually be around at 7 am. Even before his coffee. [ Sera should be too, she doesn't seem like an unbearable person to be around in La Matinée ( the Morning ) . But still, she is alot grumpier than her other half. ]
With that said. Insert Happy music here. Nujabes or Smth.
Submitted by @mettamorphoses!
Love the way you drew Nate here! such a clean style and serious face :> He's my favorite little quadfocal guy... friendly, polite, and a good conversationalist! You're absolutely right, he's one of the easiest people to get along with. It's almost like he knows exactly what to say to people.
Sera isn't grumpy so much as she is disinterested and dismissive. She heads to work without bothering to make small talk besides a basic "Hello." if she passes you by. Not the worst outcome, really, if silence doesn't bother you.
#submission#yeah. i'm in Tags too. wassup witchu#Aight but seriously i wonder how literally anyone would be like at 7 am.#Deva's tags start here =>#If he's home for the day he will always be a good conversationalist and offer breakfast or coffee on a morning#This is literally so cool#queued post#As for people at 7 am...#Sera is up by 4 AM unless Nate doesn't have work. By 7 she has already had breakfast and gotten ready to work on her projects.#If you catch her it is likely after she returns from a morning flight. She'll be civil but it can easily come off the wrong way. aw.#Nate takes a lot of long shifts that stretch into the night. Due to this he and Sera have very contrasting schedules.#If you see him in the morning it is usually only because of the weekend or whatever other days he takes off. He is a very tired guy#Vincent has a very erratic schedule and he is always out and about doing things that fancy him#He is also a HEAVY sleeper. Nothing can really wake him except for a very specific noise#Said sound makes him wake up in a horrendous mood. Most mornings are thankfully safe from this sort of temper.#It is hard to say what new bizarre thing he will get himself into next. Like doomcrying while hidden on the roof of a religious congregatio#Sonia is not up by 7 AM without a good reason to be. She is down at the kitchen in a bathrobe by 9 to eat some breakfast.#Which made her the unknowing first victim of Vincent's newly founded pyramid scheme#Amon is a late riser since he is still used to his old schedule from his time at the Ricciardi mafia. Sleeps late? wakes late!#If it's a weekday he will always be up at 6 AM regardless of the amount he slept to take Adra to school.#Eric tends to wake up early but often gets caught up in personal projects. He loves music and editing his tracks but it really eats his tim#So Eric will be going to sleep at 4 and see Sera making herself coffee whilst Nate is also coming home from work and crashing on the couch.#Not even Amon heads in that late. Maybe Vincent does though. If he's “Traversing the night.” Like he says he does.#Vince can't see very well at night anymore. And the sun is almost blinding now. But it's nothing to an immortal like him! ha! bow before hi
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figuerockfaeth · 1 year ago
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need a friend who does not prioritize a romantic relationship over ours desperately i’m so lonely lmao
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imwritingthefout · 3 months ago
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after session hangout
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basically you fall in love with the dm of your campaign in college: Ford pines, smut ensues
This is crossposted to ao3 so if you wanna go read it there, here’s the link:
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Waking up each day to the same old ceiling was starting to bore you. 
Ever since moving out of your parents house for college you felt like a stranger in the dorm you now called ‘home’, and It didn't help that you refused to decorate it. 
Getting out of your plain old bed, you stand up and push away the blinds with a tug, the light from the early morning sun blinding you temporarily. You glance down at your clock; 6:30am, thursday. The time isn't the part that excites you though, it's the day. Today is the day you look forward to all week: Dd&md day! 
You go to get ready for your morning class, excited for what the future of today may hold. You love dd&md, its been your favourite game since you were a child -even though you had no one to play it with back then, you got creative (no goat was harmed in your past attempts at playing the game).
Your classes went by in a blur. Of course you were taking notes and whatnot, it was important to pay attention! But in secret, you were drawing your character all over the side of your notebook and thinking of strategies on how to defeat the next dungeon your dm set up for you.
And then there was your dm. 
One of the many reasons you adored thursdays was because you got to play dd&md of course, but other than that there was another big reason you liked thursdays.
To put it plainly: your dm, Stanford Pines was Hot. like, capital H Hot. you couldn't get over his warm brown eyes that sparkled with passion whenever he detailed the characters he was playing. His hands that moved with his every word, adding to the description of the imaginary world he was building. God you wanted to feel those hands on you. What would they feel like, intertwined with your own, on your hips while he-
You decided to stop that train of thought. As much as you liked him, you also respected him enough to know that he would probably never feel that way towards you, and you shouldn't fantasise about him like that (even though it was hard not to).
And though he was Hot, that wasn't the only reason you liked him. You liked him because he was smart, compassionate, funny and so very cute.
What can you say? You had a thing for nerds.
As your last class of the day finished finished up, you quickly packed up your things and rushed to the old building next to the dorms that housed your favourite room in the whole campus: the old meeting room you guys used to house your dd&md sessions! 
The room wasn't glorious, it was just an old meeting room that's been out of use for years. But to you, that room was the home of your imagination. It held a special place in your heart, and you were sure it was the same for the rest of your party.
Speaking of which, you saw Fiddleford approach you down the old hallway, little puffs of dust kicking up with each of his steps. “Hey Fidds! You ready for today’s session?” you yelled to him slightly as he approached. “Ready as I'll ever be! You won't believe what I have planned in order to kick that sorcerer's butt!” he gave your shoulder a weak punch and opened the door with his key.
Usually, the old building was out of commission. But since Fiddleford knew a guy who works as campus security and convinced him to give him the key, you had full access to the building to do whatever you pleased. Of course for you, anything just means playing dd&md, not causing a mess and cleaning up after yourselves as much as possible in order to not inconvenience anyone. You knew that other people your age would throw huge parties and wreck the place, but you weren't that kind of person, really. You just liked having a quiet place to play your games and hang out with your friends. Fiddleford was like that too, that's how he got the key in the first place; because his friend trusted him not to mess up the place.
As you walked inside, you saw the table set out just how you guys left it last week: the long rectangular table set up in the middle of the room, with seven chairs set out all around the table, one for each player and one for your dm. A whiteboard behind the dm’s seat that shows the map of the fantasy world you are currently in the middle of exploring, and cork board on another wall with a bunch of graph paper pinned to it.
You walk around the table, taking your regular seat across from Fiddleford. “So what do you think Ford's planning for this session?” you ask Fidds. This is your usual routine: get to the building early, wait for Fidds and ask him if he has any intel for the session since his roommate is Ford. “like usual, i can’t tell you, it'll ruin the fun!” Fidds exclaimed, although the grin on his face told you he likes this familiar back and forth. 
You eased into a casual conversation from there, talking about your days as you waited for everyone else. You liked coming early because then you had more time to talk with Fidds and, of course, with Ford.
You met Fidds on the first day of the semester, when you sat next to each other in the freshman orientation presentation, and hit it off from there. you became friends rather quickly, bonding over the fact that you were both far away from home with no friends in town. You decided to help him move into his dorm after the presentation, and that's when you met Ford.
At first, you were a bit speechless at the guy in front of you. His outfit was the usual scholar's outfit of a white button up shirt with a brown vest on top, but then he was wearing jeans in order to look more ‘casual’ as he put it. His hair was neat and tidy and his glasses framed his face perfectly, at least in your opinion. You introduced yourself awkwardly, and once he introduced himself as Stanford Pines, a parapsychology major with aspirations for 12 phd’s in the next five years, you knew you were in over your head. You can't have a crush on a super-genius! What if he turns out to be an arrogant asshole? But you couldn't help developing feelings for him as you got closer. He wasn't just a super-genius, he was also kind and compassionate, understanding and just a good friend. That's when you decided to just stay friends with Ford, you couldn't afford to lose such a good friend.
Speaking of which, the man himself comes into the room, holding a stack of books detailing the rules and monsters of dd&md, a satin sack full of dice and his dm screen. You can barely see his face behind all of the things he's carrying, and immediately you jump up to help him carry everything. He silently thanks you for the help and starts setting his stuff up while you go back to your seat. “Hey guys, how've you been since last week?” Ford asks you two. “Oh i've been well, you know. Dealing with you every day can be challenging but I manage somehow” Fidds says dramatically and you stifle a giggle. Ford gives Fidds a death glare before turning to you “and how are you?” he asks with a smile that makes your knees weak. “I'm good!” you proclaim a little too loudly and cough to hide your blush “yes i'm good, just the usual classes and such” you say in a normal voice (or at least what you hope is a normal voice, it doesn't help that Fidds looks at you cheekily, already knowing your secret crush on his roomate) “how have you been?” you ask him. 
“Just the usual: doing homework, studying and building up today’s session” you catch on to the last part as a potential way to continue the conversation. “Well, what do you have planned for today?”. “Oh come on now, it wouldn't be fun to just spoil the game for you, would it?” he says and points to you to emphasise his point. “You can't even give us an outline? Something?” you pout a little and Ford gives in “fine… I may have something up my sleeve for today, and I can guarantee you won't see it coming this time! That's all I'm going to say for now though” he jabs his finger at you, trying to seem angry that you caught onto his plans last time, but his little smile gives him away. 
Soon your other party members start filing in and you all start the session. 
It goes as usual, you all mess around for a bit before getting serious. You can confidently say you saw the twist Ford put in this session coming, it was obvious how the wizard was actually a party member’s son, they had so many similarities! After another successful session, everyone leaves for their respective houses, leaving you, Fidds and Ford alone in the room to clean up.
“I can't believe you saw that coming again! I swear you're like a sorcerer in real life” Ford chuckles and Fidds adds “that would also explain how you get here before me every time! I swear I ran to get here today and you still beat me here!” “well what can i say guys? I'm just magical in every way!” you strike a silly but confident pose as Ford and Fidds laugh at your antics. “Oh shoot! I promised my friend i’d go on a blind date today, could you guys lock up this time? Ford you can just give me the keys tomorrow morning if i get lucky” Fidds winks and Ford rolls his eyes “alright, we get it, you can go”. Fidds leaves the keys on the desk and almost sprints out of the room.
You and Ford clean up the mess on the desk in silence before Ford decides to break it “how do you keep predicting my twists anyways? I swear it was supposed to come out of nowhere but you're too smart” you blush a little at the compliment “thank you, i guess i’m just good at guessing twists. But you do make it kind of easy. I mean, a secret relative of someone close? It’s kind of a cliche don't you think?” he pulls at the collar of his button up shirt and you can immediately tell something is wrong.
“Yeah.. I guess it is kind of cliche, but it's what fits the character, don't you think?” he says with a guilty tone. “Ford, what's wrong? I feel like you're hiding something” you get close enough to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder “you can tell me anything, i wont judge” you add, trying to coax him into telling you what's wrong.
“Well… I guess I brought the secret relative from my own life because… well… I have a twin brother….” the sentence doesn’t completely shock you, but it is still somewhat of a surprise “why do you never mention him? Did something happen between you two?” he chuckles a bit before saying “still as perceptive as ever, huh?” you blush a bit as he continues, looking out into the middle distance in thought
“Me and my brother were really close when we were young, we would do everything together. But as time went on, we grew apart. He didn't like the fact that I wanted to go away to a fancy college, especially because he knew he couldn't follow me there. I was working on a machine to impress the college, but on the day of the showing it stopped working. My own brother sabotaged my future. We had a big falling out over it and that’s why I'm here instead….” you empathised with Ford, but you couldn't help but question some things about his story.
“I know it must have been hard to deal with the fact you lost your ticket to the college of your dreams, but do you really believe your brother would sabotage you? If he loves you, wouldn't he want to support you? Maybe it was an accident and he didn't mean to destroy your project?” Ford looks lost in thought again before replying “i… it's foolish but i never thought of it that way…” he looks at you with thankfulness in his eyes and you can't help but smile up at him “you should maybe sort this out with him? Talk to him about what actually happened and if he meant to hurt you?” 
“God you're right… Thank you! This changes everything! I'm so glad I could just kiss you!” 
….
It takes him a second to realise what he said and blush at the thought of actually kissing you. You just stare at him dumbly for a second until your brain processes what he said.
He wants to kiss you?
Well this took a turn for the better.
“Do you really mean that?” you ask him with hope in your eyes
“Well… yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t i? Look at you” he finds that it's suddenly very important you understand how much he wants to kiss you. “Wow… i- i didn't know you felt the same…” you say softly and look down. He says your name and puts his hand on your cheek and lifts up your face to meet his eyes “i like you. More than as a friend. Would you… let me kiss you?” he looks at you nervously for a moment before you close the gap between you two and kiss him yourself.
The kiss feels electrifying. As your soft lips meet his you put your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You realise he smells exactly how you thought he would; of old books and aftershave. His hands find your waist and rub gentle circles with his thumbs into your skin. You pull away after a little and touch your forehead with his “you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that” you whisper gently.
“Me too” and he goes back to kissing you, this time he takes the lead. You tighten yourself around him until your chests meet, his hands move down to your hips and he pulls you onto his lap in one swoop. You gently bite his lip as he groans into your open lips. He then moves down to kiss from your jaw to your neck, leaving the occasional love bite. You sigh at his bites until he gets to your collarbones. “Do you…. Want to do this?” he breathes the question against your skin, the feeling of him against you makes you shudder. “Yes. im sure”. He straightens up from excitement and goes back to kissing you collarbone, now more eager than ever as his hands travel past the hem of your shirt and up to your bra. Meanwhile your hands go down to feel him underneath you.
“Someone is excited” you smirk as he breaths heavily against you. 
“Very” his response falls heavy against you as he unclasps your bra (with only a little bit of a struggle) and his hands move to massage your breasts. You moan as he pinches your nipples in between his fingers. You lower your head to bite at his shoulder to stifle another moan from falling out of your lips- “No” he says and moves his shoulder to get you to stop muffling your sounds. “I want to hear you”. The thought of him wanting to hear you like this makes you blush and sends a bolt of pleasure down your spine. “Y-yes’’ 
You intend to start massaging him through his pants but he beats you to it, moving his hand down into your pants. You help him take off your pants and underwear (with a lot of struggle because of your position) and he suddenly picks you up and places you on the table. The cold desk underneath you only adds to the pleasure as he caresses your side before moving his hand down to finally touch you. 
His hand caresses your folds and feels how wet you are, and you moan from the feeling of his thick fingers on your sensitive skin. “Damn, you feel so good” he whimpers at how you feel before kissing your breasts and plunging his index finger inside you. “A-ah~” you sigh as he moves his hand so his thumb is circling your clit. 
He continues pumping his finger inside of you for a second before adding a second one and speeding up the pace. If he continues like this you wont last long. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts, he stops and goes down onto his knees, his face in front of your core. “Can I please taste you?” he asks innocently, as if his request isn't the most dirty thing you've heard him say. Thinking about it makes you even more aroused -if that's even possible at this point- and you hastily agree.
Not even a second after he sees you nod does he jump into your pussy, his tongue plunging into you and licking you from the inside. His nose bumps into your clit as he moves to taste and lick you even more. Your breath hitches and you moan loudly as he begins sucking at your clit, toying and teasing it with his tongue. “Please F-Ford” you manage to say in between moans. He groans against you and the vibrations send a wave of pleasure through you.
He suddenly brings his fingers back into you, curling them just right, hitting that spongy spot inside you that sends you over the edge. 
You briefly hear him let out a broken “Fu-uck” as your orgasm ripples through you in waves. Ford helps you ride out your high as he continues fingering you and licking at your clit. You have to push him off of you as it becomes too overstimulating
You try to pull him up to his knees, but he seems embarrassed by something. He looks up at you with his chin and nose glistening from your wetness, a guilty smile on his lips and his glasses fogged up and crooked. You then look down and notice it. A wet spot against his jeans
oh.
He got off on pleasuring you. He turned into a mess from just tasting you, feeling you on his lips and fingers. “That's the hottest thing i've ever seen” you say suddenly and lean down to kiss him passionately. He pulls away “really? You think so?” he looks at you in shock. “Yes! Now let me kiss you” you bring him up and kiss him passionately. He takes the hint, grabs at your hips and grunts. You can feel him already hardening again so you pull at his belt and pull down his pants and underwear. You softly grab him and start moving your hand up and down as he whimpers against your lips. You bring up your hand and spit onto it in order to create less friction when touching him.
“Please Ford- fuck me” you moan into his ear and he leans his head back in pleasure. “But i don't have-” you cut him off “there's some condoms in the front pocket of my bag, please” you emphasise your point by giving his cock another stroke. This seems to fuel him on to run to your bag and get the condom. He opens the packet and rolls it onto his member. He rubs his cock against your folds to collect your juices and as his head rubs against your oversensitive clit you moan. “Please put it inside” you hold onto his shoulders as he follows your request and pushes his tip in slowly.
He slowly pushes himself inside you until he's bottomed out inside you and you both groan. You move your hips experimentally and he whimpers at the feeling of you around him. He slowly starts to pull out and then thrusts back in with a moan of your name. You dig your fingers into the soft skin of his shoulders as he continues thrusting inside of you slowly. 
He continues gently until you decide to whisper in his ear something that changes his attitude completely “harder- please~”. He understands the message and suddenly picks you up and flips you around -while still inside of you- and bends you over the table. You moan at the sudden change of positions but you have no time to get used to it as he starts thrusting into you at a killer pace. He moves his hips sharply into you, with an almost mechanical pace as he pushes your chest onto the table with his broad torso. You can't help the sounds you let out each time he hits that deep spot inside of you. He grunts into your ear at each thrust and it makes your eyes water from all the pleasure.
You're suddenly pushed over the edge for the second time when he wraps his hand around your body and starts playing with you clit. You scream his name as you cum around his cock. His pace stutters a bit and he curses in your ear as he cums too for the second time.
He slowly eases you both down with some gentler thrusts and then exits out of you with a sensual pop. 
You lay down for a little while with your ass out before you gather some strength to get up. As soon as you do, your legs start to shake and Ford catches you in his arms and chuckles a bit with pride. “So…. did you like that?”  
You dead-pan him and say “no. i didn't like that. Of course I liked that you doofus!” he laughs a bit and kisses you again. “I just wanted to make sure!” he says against your lips. You giggle and pull him even closer “well, i enjoyed that a lot” you give him a small peck on the nose and then pull away to put your clothes back on. He disposes of the condom and goes to put on his pants but pauses. “I can't go out with a wet spot on my pants…. What should I do?” he looks terrified at the thought of walking around campus like that.
“Don't worry, i always carry an extra sweatshirt around in case the ac is too much in class” you laugh as he looks at you like you just saved his life “you are an angel!” he comes up to you and kisses you again before going back to putting on his pants. You hand him the sweatshirt and he ties it around his waist in order to hide the evidence of what happened.
He then comes up to you and hugs you. “You know i meant what i said, right? About liking you” you blush and then respond “i meant what i said too”
“Then can this not be a one time thing? I want to -if you’d want of course, there's no pressure if you don't want to do anything more than what happened today but-” you cut him off to spare him from rambling even more “i’d like to go on a date with you, Ford. i want to go out with you and be with you” he sighs with relief. “Great! Are you free tomorrow?” you check your calendar “yeah i should be- do you want to meet up?” 
“I would love that” he kisses your forehead before picking up your bag and the keys to the room.
You go out but as Ford locks the door, he realises something.
“Why do you have condoms in your bag?”
You immediately flush a deep red as you remember the fact that after first meeting him, your horney brain convinced you to put some condoms in your bag. ‘Just in case something happens’ you thought to yourself
“No reason” you yelp out and pull at his bicep so he continues walking and change the subject.
He chuckles at your antics but goes along with you.
He’ll just have to ask another time.
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violetrainbow412-blog · 11 months ago
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Hi!!! I just read your Wonka fics and they're all so sweet and I love them so much. I was wondering if I could request a certain fic? Here me out,,,,
So basically since there were only 6 bedrooms at the laundry place, the reader had their own room before Willy came but once he came the reader got switched to share rooms with Noodle since that's who they're closest too. The reader doesn't have their own bed for a few days until after they slowly(?) get closer to Willy, and build up the courage to walk to Willy's room in the middle of the night and ask to sleep with him. Nothing but sweet fluff.
Bonus points if Noodle catches them cuddling the next morning while they're asleep. :)))
Midnight Encounters [W. W]
Willy Wonka x fem!reader
word count: 2.2k
note: first, I have to say that I LOVED this as soon as I read it. I'm honestly afraid I haven't done this wonderful idea justice, so whoever asked for this, I'm very grateful. This is my favorite so far!
taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]
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Scrubitt's wonderful building only had six rooms, and when a seventh guest (a forced worker, actually) arrived, you had to figure out a way to make it work. You and Noodle had no problem sharing a place due to your familiarity and that, of course, you were the youngest, to give the new laundry employee a bed of his own.
Mr. Wonka was a most peculiar man, who had gained your attention immediately and, as the days passed, also your affection. It was something like love at first sight, if there was such a thing, and you didn't know if it was due to his charismatic personality, his beauty, or his completely dreamy aura that had captivated you. Whatever it was, it was clear that every time he approached you let out a nervous sigh and he seemed to react the same way to your presence; somehow you knew he felt the same way, you didn't even know why, you just felt it. 
A good amount of time passed, enough for the two of you to share stories in the long hours you had to spend working, and trust was added to the list of things between you. You thought that the bond that was born between you could also be because you two were similar in age compared to the rest, who were younger or older. You suddenly started to enjoy chatting with him, he became the first one you looked for in the crowd and you also allowed him to help you from time to time, even if it was small things, just to be with him a little more. 
That was why that night, after thinking about it for so many hours, you slipped out of your shared bed with Noodle, ready to go out through the hallway in search of a little warmth to shelter you while you slept. Because if anything was true, it was that the little girl's room had always been colder than yours and you weren’t a person particularly fond of this condition. On the contrary, you would say that as soon as a little wind blew through the window your entire body was already shaking in protest, to the point that it had become unbearable to live through it.
You advanced automatically and when you reached the door of your old room there was a second of hesitation, where all the possible results for what you were about to do passed through your mind; some were more favorable than others, however, you knew that you wouldn't find out what was really going to happen until you dared to cross into the room. Would Willy be upset? you asked yourself. You just hoped you didn't scare him.
You carefully turned the knob, which had once been gold but was now only copper, and you were thankful that it didn't have a lock. There was definitely no time to chicken out, you knew when you watched the boy curled up on the bed move slightly, as if the air that had sneaked in through the door had bothered him.
You noticed that he was wearing only his light white shirt and a pair of pants, without shoes or socks. There was a certain vulnerability in the scene, almost like an invitation for you to take a couple of steps and simply slip into his arms and sleep peacefully. How would he feel? Would his skin be soft? Cozy? Would that grip be enough to help you get your long-awaited rest?
You closed the door behind you and the soft click it made was enough to wake the man, as if that had warned him of the intruder who had sneaked into his room. He sat bolt upright on the bed and squinted to peer through the darkness.
"Who is it?"
“It's me, Willy” you responded and upon hearing your voice he visibly relaxed. However, when he asked himself the reason for your nocturnal visit, he returned to alert state.
"What happened? Everything is alright?"
You had no valid reason to be there. Or maybe you had it, but it wasn't something you could explain to the man without exposing yourself, or exposing your feelings. Even if that were the case, you thought that it would sound absurd to confess to him that you were there just because you wanted to discover what it felt like to have him close to you, to feel his breath close to your face, to be sheltered by his body...
“Y/N?” he spoke again, probably because he thought you hadn't heard him the first time. He was afraid it was an emergency so you were there, not imagining anything of what was going through your head.
You finally found your voice, deep inside your chest, and were able to offer him an answer:
"I'm cold"
You honestly didn't know what else to say and deep down you hoped that was enough, but even so, Willy got up still sleepy and stumbled to reach you. 
“Oh, do you need a blanket?” he asked, while he could put his hands at your sides, holding your arms. His curls were messy and there were traces of sleep on his face. “Or would you prefer that I change rooms with you and Noodle? I wouldn't mind, although you should have told me before. If I had known, I could…”
"May I stay here?" you interrupted him. Your voice was a whisper in the darkness and he was still holding you, looking down at you with slight concern “With you?”
For a second he thought he was hearing you wrong and if he had heard correctly, he thought that perhaps he had not understood what you were trying to tell him. You looked disheveled and wore lighter clothing than usual, but he couldn't help but notice the innocence that bathed your face. You looked so pure and pretty that he felt dizzy, which only increased at the possibility that you were suggesting sleeping there; in the same bed… together.
“Huh… Are you sure?” he asked and instantly felt stupid. He just hoped it wouldn't scare you away.
“I guess I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t, right?” you replied, a smile escaping your lips. Suddenly the thought of him not wanting this came to your mind, realizing that it was completely valid “But if you don't want…”
“No,” he murmured, taking his turn to interrupt you. “It's okay if you want to stay here, I don't mind. I also feel a little cold”
If that was just to make you feel better, it didn't matter, after all you knew from the look on you that he wanted to do this just as much as you did. Well, it was that and the way his hand moved up your arm until it reached your face, where he brushed away a chunk of your hair and then kindly caressed your cheek. It was a gentle, loving, and sincere touch. 
Without waiting any longer, you walked between the buckets that stopped the leaks and the man followed you obediently, until the two of you were sitting on the mattress. It was small and worn, with barely enough room for a body to move freely, there was a thin blanket over it and a pillow that covered the entire length of the headboard.
“You look tired,” you pointed out, feeling a slight guilt for having snatched him from his sleep.
“I am a little,” he replied, while he yawned and rubbed one eye as if he wanted to corroborate what he was saying.
You wanted to have the courage to grab his face and kiss him right there, but you didn't dare; it had been too much, you had to control your impulses or you would end up scaring the poor boy to death.
“We have to sleep, then”
Willy motioned for you to take the inside of the bed and when you were lying down he imitated you, forced by the lack of space to position himself a few centimeters from your entire body. You felt small, not physically, but metaphorically, and his attentive gaze and playful expression didn't help much.
"Are you comfortable?"
“Mjm,” you hummed affirmatively.
You felt him stir next to you and then he spread the blanket over you, hoping that would ease whatever had ailed you in the first place. One of his hands began to move down and up your arm in an attempt to give you a little more warmth, which worked perfectly after a few seconds. You felt so spoiled by him.
You were silent for a moment, in which he didn’t dare to look at you for fear that you could read in his expression how nervous he had become. He didn’t expect your visit and feared he was dreaming, although his hand touching you kept him certain that this wasn’t the case.
“I assume I was your first choice for this, was I?”
“You were my only option” you relieved, in a low voice. You weren't going to lie to him, if you had already managed to sneak between his sheets you wanted him to know that you were only thinking about him “I thought your arms would be warm. And I think I wasn’t wrong”
Almost as if your words had been an incentive, he closed the distance even more, placing one of his arms under your head so you could use it as a pillow and using the other to surround your body. Your face felt red and you thought you would die of embarrassment, but instead you just buried your head in his chest. He smelled like chocolate and soap.
“Hey,” he whispered suddenly and you pulled your head out of its comfortable spot to respond.
"Yeah?"
Again he surprised you when you felt that you received a fluffy kiss on the forehead before an answer, managing to add even more color to the skin of your cheeks.
“I just wanted to see your face. Rest"
Would it be possible not to when you were sheltered by such a sweet man, who held you with the care of holding a piece of porcelain? You highly doubted it, to be honest.
Your response was only your arm stretching out from the blanket that covered you to surround his waist and thus become practically fused with him. It didn't take you long to feel the full weight of fatigue settling on you and thanks to the rhythmic beat of his heart, you fell completely asleep, now without a single problem to be able to rest.
In your dreams you thought you heard his voice, but you couldn't make out what he was telling you, and at some point during the night you tangled your legs with his, thus eliminating any remains of the distance you had with him.
Very early in the morning Noodle soon noticed that someone was missing in bed, and although at first she thought you had just decided to get up a little early, she got worried when she went out to look for you and couldn't find you anywhere. The girl wondered if something had happened to you, if you had escaped or even if the mistress had locked you in the closet, just like she did with her. She thought that she had to tell someone about your absence and then she believed that the best candidate would be Willy, because she knew that he would share her concern and help her look for you without any complaints.
She crossed the hallway with her bare feet until she reached the boy's room and once there, she knocked on the door twice.
“Willy?” she called out to him, but there was no answer. That's why she knocked two more times “Willy? Are you there?"
Noodle waited a few seconds for the door to open, but it didn't, and that worried the girl again. What if he had disappeared too? She didn't want to waste time and to find out she turned the doorknob, expecting to see an empty room. But her surprise was great when she looked at what was really behind the door.
It was obvious that the blows had woken the man, so when he looked directly at her he had already put a finger to his mouth to tell her to keep quiet. The girl noticed that there was a bundle curled up next to him, holding him firmly and with its head buried in the crook of his neck, but she opened her eyes widely when she recognized the pattern of the pants that was under the sheet.
At least the problem of your whereabouts had been solved.
"Is…?"
“Yes, but she's asleep,” Willy responded quickly, whispering, “Be good and let her rest, okay? There is still a little while before the laundry opens.”
She nodded, confused and surprised, and waved goodbye to him, closing the door carefully. Noodle smiled to herself as she returned to her room, while she thought that, with any luck, from now on it would be someone else who would have to share the bed with you.
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danrifics · 2 months ago
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good morning i have slept a total of 2 hours here’s my spoiler breakdown for terrible influence antwerp
they start by playing a text to speech voice who welcomes us and the straight boyfriends and the dads (they’re a bit obsessed with the dads i’ll be real) the voice tells us if we film she’s gonna sue are asses. text to speech lady she is an icon
dnp come out and they’re like yo this is cool it’s the first show, you guys are gonna see what we’ve been up to and then they’re like it’s the first show so we can use you guys to decide if we change anything
they they’re like there’s probably people in the audience who don’t really know us so they do a 15 years of dan and phil lore breakdown with dolls of themselves in little set of iconic dnp locations (made by pj and sophie btw) they put these sets in a table in front of a camera and it shows on the big screen, (for 1 section of this the screen doesn’t work for the first part lol) also phil makes the dolls kiss and they also make the dolls hump the breakfast bar cos of course they do
i can’t remember what happens next or maybe it jumps right into the next thing i mention
they play a game show called role model or no-model which is a madlibs style game where you have to decide if the version of dan and phil the audience creates is a role model or not these are compared to real dnp. we had homophobic furry lawyer dan and linguistics dr phil wo has a thing for hamsters. just an fyi for this dan is really good at hearing what the audience is saying and phil is not at all and im pretty sure he made his up cos he couldn’t understand what we wanted
okay so after this iirc they start talking about the youtube landscape and what they’re gonna do after tour and how to keep people entertained and they go on a little adventure through different genres of youtube like minecraft lets plays, vtubers and then they pretend to be mr beast and pretend to give away a bunch of stuff that they don’t have, they cure us of any mental health issues and they cure us from being gay <3
then they decide to have a boxing match cos obvs that’s what youtubers do, they ask us to cheer for whoever they want to win and it has cool intro to it! i’ll be honest this boxing match goes on for entirely too long like it spans the end of the first half and the start of the second but they have like choreographed fighting and OMFG it’s very gay and like suggestive and they do many times look like they’re gonna have sex 😂 like one of phils moves is to hit dan with his ass while dan is holding him from behind so… yeah. anyway dan thought he won ours and then phil knocked him out with a tv, as he should!! also before they end the first half they’re having an insult match where phils tells dan hes gonna burn his house down only for dan to say they live in the same house and i was dying it was so funny, phil also calls dan a dickhead and this is where he also calls him a cunt and that’s how the first half ends. oh also phil has a fake 6 pack on and that’s the $300 dollar silicone btw
okay second half after dan is dead they have a sincere moment and then they’re like you guys keep telling us you want load of long unedited content and they ask us to tell them a topic to monologue about and someone shouts feet and they rant about feet lmao phil excitedly tells everyone he has a better wiki feet rating than dan
then dan goes on a rant about being discriminated against as a millennial (can’t remember how we got there) and phil gets bored and starts watching subway surfers and i’ll be real honest as a gen z i instantly got distracted by subway surfers and didn’t listen to what dan was saying (that was the point tho) and phil keeps turning up the volume and dan gets mad and he storms off
we have a nice sincere moment with phil but idk what tf it was cos neither did phil 😂
then suddenly a voice, oh here she comes, she asks if we’re ready to confess our sins and out comes sister daniel, everyone fucking loses it, if you heard me screaming so loud no you didn’t.
anyway they read some confessions (phil is father philip) and they read out a few including one from @dnphobe !!! phil has a water gun that he didn’t have when he was meant to and couldn’t find and then found and he was spraying it at people to cleanse them of their sins which is what they meant by people being in the splash zone btw also phil sprayed it at dan it was kinda cute
okay so they say they need to go and get changed and they head off stage and there’s a gag where they leave the microphone on and they’re purposely making it sound sexual and it’s so funny and then dan comes out and phil doesn’t cos he’s struggling with his leather fucking trousers that was a completely unscripted part for sure
then they talk about the hiatus a bit and how dan left us and they keep calling us their family and brb while i cry my eyes out
then they pull out a fucking banger of a song, like i can’t even explain to you how good it is, it has a fully like kpop style dance to it that im gonna fucking learn lmao and dan was so good at it like im not even kidding that man was pulling moves!! phil was doing great too btw but he definitely wasn’t as confident in it as dan was but damn it’s the best song yet imo!!
also i forgot to write the conspiracy bit because i forgot where in the show it is but on one of them they were trying so hard to make us say the opposite one but we were literally forcing tour bus on them and yes they confirmed they shared a bed on that tour bus!! and they played it off like its okay for friends to do that (cos it is) but they way they said it was that thing again where they blur the line a little so we know what they actually mean but still pretend they mean something else
okay some little things i remember that i didn’t write above
- “i can’t imagine my life without you”
- “it’ll be 15 years in december” (if you know you know)
- the absolute silence after they confirmed the bed thing cos none of us were actually expecting it
- dan had to prompt phil a little to remind him what to say next but it was very cute
- they kept looking at each other in *that* way
- phil lied to us about when norman died cos he had norman merch coming out
- sleepless night with phil 3 is fake!!
- they showed *that* video of phil asleep on the tour bus
- there were multiple times where i thought they’re gonna kiss right now???
-phil called dan kinda sexy
- ALL IS FORGIVEN, ANYTHING FROM THE LAST WE MIGHT HAVE DONE IS FORGIVEN THEY LOVE US WE ARE A FAMILY THEY ARE LITERALLY OUR DADS
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help-itrappedmyself · 9 months ago
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Danny Punches a Clown Part 6
Masterpost
Danny, after many promises and assurances, lets Red Robin take him to the batcave. They travel by car, and as fancy as it was, Danny was almost scared to touch anything inside it. Red was a much better driver than his father though, so he just closed his eyes and focused on trying to keep his healing up.
The Batcave turned out to be an actual cave, underground, with actual bats in it. He was whisked to a medical area too quickly to see much of anything else besides some other vehicles and a giant computer set up. 
Someone was waiting in the medical space with a tray of tools and bandages ready next to the bed, Red introduced him as Agent A. They were quick to lie him down on a cot and set him up to a heart monitor and that had Red and the A frowning immediately.
“It’s a medical condition.” Danny blurted, and both pairs of eyes shot to him. “My heartrate is naturally very slow, temperature runs cold, pale skin, slow circulation so I can't have a lot of different medications." Not that any medications would really work, but better safe than sorry. Them not working would be suspicious, and Danny does not have the energy or focus for trying to keep straight any real explanations right now.  "It’s fine, I promise.”
Agent A nodded slowly. “Is there anything else we should know before we start treatment?”
“Just can't give me any medicines, I think that's the only relevant bit.”
“Alright, I will keep that in mind. Please lift your shirt so I can see the wound.”
Danny does, and they manage their expressions quite well on seeing it. Agent A goes immediately for creams and bandages.
“What burned you like that?” Red asked.
“Gun.” Danny was starting to slur. He did not want to sleep right now, with these people here.
“A gun? What kind of gun causes burns?”
“New blaster, parents made it special.”
“Your parents make guns?”
Danny shrugs, turning his head to look at Red instead of the far off ceiling of the cave. “My parents make lots of things. They're scientists, inventors." Danny waves his arm around vaguely. "The gun was new though, hadn’t been shot with that one before. The earlier versions were much less powerful.”
“Are you saying that your parents are the ones that shot you?” Red asked gently, taking a seat in the chair next to the bed. “It wasn’t just their gun that was used?”
Danny frowns. “Well yeah.”
Tim is very concerned at the tone he just used, like getting shot at by your parents was normal. “Do they shoot at you a lot?”
“Fair amount I suppose.” Red could see Danny thinking really hard about something. Dany’s head was really starting to hurt. His brain was fuzzy and he knew he should be concerned about something, but couldn’t figure out what. His parents shooting at him was nothing new, considering. “Like, they did it more than Vlad but I don’t see him as often, and they’ve done it longer than the GIW, but since the GIW has started they’ve been about equal I guess. I mean, sometimes all the defense systems in the house target me but that wasn’t technically intentional. Took forever for us to figure out how to get them to stop that.”
“Danny, when was the last time you slept?” Red asked gently.
Danny wasn’t sure if his blip earlier this morning counted. He didn’t think it lasted more than an hour, but the last time he slept before that was before his fight in Amity, escaping through the ghost zone and running around in this dimension.
“It’s been awhile.” Danny landed on. True enough for medical history he supposed.
“Right.” A finished the last of the bandages and tugged Danny’s shirt back down. “Well, why don’t you do that now, while we go and find you something to eat.”
“I’m too tired to fight food right now.”
Tim shared a look with Alfred before turning back to Danny. “Okay then. Maybe sleep first and then eat?”
“I will go start making something now that you’re all set up here Mister Danny.” Agent A states, walking past the medical curtains and shutting them behind him. Red pulled out a tablet and started tapping on it. He noticed Danny’s eyes on him after a moment.
“You going to sleep?”
“Strange place, strange people. Not sure that’s the best decision here.”
Red looked up from his tablet.
“You trusted me enough to come here. Trust me enough to sleep. I will make sure no one but me or A comes in before you’re ready.”
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moonstruckme · 3 months ago
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Okay I’ve been thinking of request ideas for Thawing Out all day while I was at work 😂 What about if something happened with her on the way to practice (nothing serious but maybe it shook her up a bit) and she was late and clearly acting off? Obviously her boys are going to notice…
Love you as always, hope you’re doing amazing! 💖💖💖
Thank you Amber my love!!! Hope you like it <3
collab with @ellecdc
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12
cw: modern au, chronic pain, mention of harassment
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.6k words
You come into the rink with quick, determined steps, blitzing past every door in your path until you get to the bleachers. Sirius is already on the ice, Remus leaned against the boards while he watches. Both boys turn when you sit down. 
“Hello,” Sirius calls, clearly chuffed to have you here as a buffer between him and your bristly coach. “Where’s my latte?”
“No time today,” you say back. You jam your foot into a skate. 
Remus gives you a scrutinous look. “You alright?”
“Fine. Sorry I’m late.” 
You get your skates on in record time, laced up tight enough to hurt. Sirius is ready for you in your starting position, his hands firm on your shoulders. He gives a little squeeze, meant to coax a smile out of you, but you’re in no mood. 
“I was just fucking with you about the latte,” he says lowly. “I don’t need it to get through practice, though he has been especially insufferable this morning.” 
You glance at Remus. He looks the same as always, half relaxed and half watchful. He and Sirius have fallen into a routine of petty spats that you suspect don’t exactly make him look forward to practice every morning, and yet he seems to be getting used to the both of you. He’s less curt than he had been during your first few days together. 
“You only say that because you were here alone with him,” you say. 
“It didn’t help. Without you here he’s in his most unfiltered, fogey form.” 
Your skating is as near to flawless as it’s been in weeks. You throw yourself into each jump with everything you have, using the hot emotions simmering beneath your skin to your advantage. And it works. Remus looks caught offguard but directs several nods of approval your way, whereas Sirius is all untempered joy. His grin widens with each flawless landing, and when you finish your most difficult move in the routine he actually whoops. You think you see Remus’ lips twitch at that. 
“There she is!” Sirius grips your hand, squeezing tight as you go into a synchronized arabesque. His hair is pulled back into a bun, but a couple of loose pieces flutter around his face as he skates backwards. He looks so happy for you, and some of that tight feeling you’ve been carrying around all morning dissipates. You smile back at him. 
You both go into a lutz. It’s a jump you’ve done half a million times. It should be a given, perfect every time. And yet you catch your mistake in midair. 
You land on your hands and knees. 
You pant a couple of times, and your next breath scrapes on the way in. Tears press at your eyes horrifyingly fast, like they’ve only been waiting for their chance. You press your nose to the ice. 
Skates hiss until they’re next to you, Sirius’ hand on your back. 
“What’s wrong? What happened?” 
You shake your head, humiliated by your fall and even more so by this fracturing, how easily it came on. You feel pathetic. 
“Where is it?” Sirius’ voice climbs, growing shrill with panic. “Let me see. How bad is it?” 
He’s trying to sit you up, hands cold and gentle and frantic, but his touch stills when a warmer one meets your shoulder. 
“Are you hurt?” Remus asks. 
“No.” You finally find your voice, but it’s pitchy and awful. “I’m sorry.” 
“Fuck. Fucking hell.” In the next second you’re smushed against Sirius, who hugs you tight as soon as he knows he doesn’t have to be delicate with you. “You scared the shit out of me.” 
“I’m sorry.” Your face feels hotter than hot in the cold rink. You push into your eyes with your fingertips. “God, what the fuck! I thought I fixed it. I don’t understand why this is still happening.” 
You’re sobbing now, tiny explosions that start in your chest and ricochet all the way through you, but fuming all the same. 
“You were both right, I’m holding myself back. I thought I could stop, but it just keeps happening, and I can’t do this. I’m so incompetent I can’t even do a fucking lutz. We need to find Sirius a new partner. I can’t hold us back anymore, I—” 
“Hey.” 
Remus’ voice is harsh, but not as harsh as Sirius’ grip on you turns at the sound of it. Your partner’s face goes sharp and cruel in an instant, an animal bearing its teeth. 
Remus pays him no mind. He keeps his eyes on yours, firm and unrelenting. “Don’t speak about yourself that way,” he says. 
You feel Sirius’ hold slacken in surprise. 
Another tear trudges down your face, and Remus’ expression gentles. “Everyone falls,” he tells you. “You have been improving, faster than I thought was possible, but you can’t expect it to happen all at once. You’re still going to fall sometimes. It’s alright. We’re working on it, yeah?” 
You sniff, wiping underneath your eyes. “Yeah,” you squeak out. “Sorry.” 
“You don’t need to be sorry. Just give yourself some grace, yeah?” His lips press together in a little grimace that’s likely meant to be a smile. “It’s my job to be hard on you, not yours. You’re allowed to fuck up. It doesn’t make you incompetent, or unworthy of competing with Sirius. You are the best person to be his partner. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be here, understand?” 
“Yeah.” You take a deep breath in. “Thank you.” It stutters a bit on the way out, catching on another tiny sob you can’t help. This one comes from a place of relief, but Sirius’ cold fingers dig into your arm anyway and Remus’ brows twitch slightly as though it hurts him, too. 
“No problem,” he says softly. “Are you sure you haven’t hurt yourself?” 
You nod, closing your eyes to will yourself calmer. 
“Good. Do you want to leave off early today?” 
You swallow and start to stand. “No. I’m okay.” 
“No.” Sirius’ voice is bemused enough to sound like a question. He rises beside you, looking at you like he’s trying to puzzle you out. “No, something’s up with you today. We should stop.” 
Remus seems to go along with him, starting back towards the opening in the boards, and you think wryly that if one good thing comes from all this it might be those two finally starting to get along. You also realize for the first time that Remus is out here with you on the ice. It’s the first time you’ve seen him so much as think about coming off of the bleachers, even if he is only in regular shoes and leaning heavily on his good hip as he makes his way back towards them. 
“I’m okay,” you repeat to Sirius. 
He shakes his head. “You’ve been weird since you got here. What happened?”
“Nothing happened.” 
“Something did.” 
You push out a frustrated breath. “Nothing relevant.” 
“But something did happen.” 
He’s steering you towards the exit now. It feels petulant to rip away and stay on the ice even if no one else will, though that’s what you’d really like to do. 
“Are you actively trying to piss me off?” you ask him. 
Sirius shrugs, stepping onto the floor. “If that’s what’s going to work. I only want to know what got you so upset.” 
“Nothing.” 
“Here we are again. Back to ‘nothing.’” 
Remus is watching you both like you’re a show his TV has randomly flipped to. Tentative of where he stands, but definitely entertained. 
You hate that this has become such a big thing. “It’s really nothing,” you say, planting yourself on the bench with a force that perhaps belies your claim. “It was just some git on the way here this morning.” 
Sirius’ eyebrows go up while Remus’ come down. 
“And what did this git have to say to you?” Sirius asks. 
You sigh, starting to unlace your skates since apparently practice is over. “It’s not what he said. He only asked me out, which is fine, but then he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He, like, grabbed onto my arm and wouldn’t let go for a bit.” 
Sirius’ expression goes stormy. It’s almost as bad as the look he’d given Remus earlier, only without a target to be directed at. “Are you fucking joking?” 
“It was fine,” you say. “I made it here, didn’t I? It just freaked me out a little. And pissed me off.” 
“Yeah, you should be pissed!” Sirius starts pacing, mindless of the indents his blades are putting into the rubber flooring. “Who does that? Did he think—what, you were just going to have to go out with him if he took you captive?” 
“I don’t know.” You give him a dead-eyed stare. “I didn’t ask him.” 
“God, you should be able to walk to fucking practice in the morning without being accosted by—by some—”
“Do you need someone to walk with you in the mornings?” Remus seems uninterested in waiting to hear what creative insult Sirius comes up with for the git. He looks at you steadily, his jaw tight but ready to accept whatever answer you give him. 
“No,” you say. “Like I said, it was really nothing.” 
“It upset you,” he says matter-of-factly. “That’s not nothing.” 
“I can walk you.” Sirius plonks down beside you on the bench, seeming to have come to a decision. “Just wait for me inside tomorrow morning, and I’ll come pick you up.” 
You can’t help but smile at that. “If I leave it to you, we’ll never get here. There’ll never be another morning practice again.” Remus’ tongue pokes into his cheek like he’s repressing a grin. 
“Wha—so little faith!” Sirius sputters, straightening before he’s so much as touched his laces. “I’ll be there, okay? We will be needing to pick up my coffee on the way here, though.” 
You give him a skeptical look. “You realize I wake up a half hour earlier to have time to get those?” 
“Fucking hell! Do you really?”
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fallstaticexit · 1 month ago
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Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort
TW: Sex, Sim Spice
Transcript under the cut
Client: I mean this respectfully, Nancy-
Nancy: Mrs. Landgraab.
Client: Right, right.
Client: We’ve done business with Mr. Landgraab for over two decades. He knows what we’re looking for.
Nancy: With Mr. Landgraab's pending retirement, he will be personally involved in very few projects. Any upcoming initiatives will be managed by me. My track record speaks for itself, and I assure you, I will not let you down.
Client: [sighs] You seem like a nice gal, Nancy-
Nancy: Mrs. Landgraab.
Client: We don’t doubt you’re a professional, considering who your father is but I think we will proceed with Mr. Landgraab, even if there’s a wait. With all due respect.
Nancy: I would like to remind you that he will retire, and I will be assuming leadership of the company.
Client: [chuckles] Well, he ain’t off the horse yet, missy. You take care.
Nancy: Wait- fuck. [sighs]
[snickering]
Nancy: Now WHO left this tasty little snack for me!
Jonathan & Malcolm: [squeals]
Nancy: What are you two doing here? You supposed to be in school. You’re not playing hooky are you?
Jonathan: I asked the driver to bring us here first. We wanted to surprise you with Dino. He’s lucky.
Nancy: Is that so?
Malcolm: Do we have to leave, Mommy? I wanna stay here with you!
Nancy: Oh, absolutely. You two are way too distracting and I need to focus. I’ll see you at dinner.
Jonathan: 6:30 sharp?
Nancy: 6:30 sharp. Malcolm, please behave today.
Malcolm: No promises!
Nancy Narrates: [Being a woman in a male dominated field felt like a crime. Being a mother was somehow worse]
Nancy Narrates: [My name alone wasn’t enough to gain their respect. I still had to work twice as hard]
-
Nancy: What issue? How is this possible?
Worker: There’s an issue with the plumbing. I called for our site manager to speak with you about it. We followed the blueprints, ma’am.
Nancy: [mutters] Damn it.
Manager: We can fix it, no problem but we’ll need new plans no later than tomorrow morning, bossman. Shouldn’t set us back but maybe 1-2 days tops.
Geoffrey: Oh, no! No, sorry, I’m not the architect-
Nancy: I drew the plans, actually. You can discuss the details with me.
Manager: My apologies, miss!
Nancy: Mrs. Landgraab will do. Where can we sit and chat?
-
Geoffrey: Ok, I have a joke. What has five toes and isn't your foot?
Jonathan: [snickers] What?
Geoffrey: My foot.
Jonathan: Pfftt! Dad! That was awful! I got one too!
Jonathan: How does a wiener go camping?
Geoffrey: [laughs] Oh boy. How?
Nancy: Jonathan, please, no wiener jokes at the table.
Jonathan: In a Wiener-bago.
Geoffrey: [laughs]
Geoffrey: Hey bud, your steak is getting cold. Come sit and eat.
Malcolm: Nuh-uh. I like watching Mommy. I’m going to be an architect too when I grow up. I’m gonna be the best, just like you.
Nancy: You sure will, my darling. It’ll be me, you and Jonathan.
Malcolm: And Daddy?
Nancy: Well, someone has to file all the paperwork.
Geoffrey: [laughs] Hey!
Jonathan: HA! Mommies can make jokes too!
Geoffrey: So, I had the world’s longest day, the boys are out cold for the night and you look so gorgeous right now. Thinking what I’m thinking?
[both panting]
Geoffrey: [whispers] Want to turn over?
Nancy: [whispers] Yes. Ok, try that.
Geoffrey: Hey, do you just want to stop?
Nancy: [nods]
Nancy: I’m sorry.
Geoffrey: Don’t apologize. You know it’s ok to stop, right? And we don’t have to have sex just because I’m in the mood for it.
Nancy: [sighs] I want to be in the mood, I just...I don’t know. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
Geoffrey: Maybe you’re stressed about work?
Nancy: [sighs] Maybe. My father is ancient, and he would rather work himself ragged instead of letting me step into his role. He doesn’t trust me. Hell, he doesn’t even know me.
Geoffrey: You’re right, he doesn’t know you. If he did, he’d know how capable and ready you are.
Nancy: I’m just tired of feeling invisible.
Geoffrey: Well. Make them see you. Be loud. Be in charge. You got it in you.
-
Nancy Narrates: [I knew there was something inside me that craved more. I wanted to be more than just a mother and wife. I wanted 'something’ so badly, and it drove me mad not knowing exactly what it was that I wanted ]
Nancy: I hear you’re lucky, Dino. What do you have in store for me?
Nancy Narrates: [What I didn’t know was that all that wanting was not done in vain. That day that Judith Ward walked into my office changed my life]
Judith: Knock, knock! I hope you don’t mind taking a walk in.
Nancy: Oh! Oh, Ms. Ward, not at all! Please, have a seat.
Judith: Call me Judy, I insist, please.
Nancy: How can I help you?
Judith: When I purchased land in The Pinnacles, I knew I wanted a home designed by a sharp, feminine eye.That’s why I picked you to design my dream home, The Ward Den. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?
Nancy: It would be my absolute pleasure, Ms. War- Judy. May I ask what made you of all people choose me specifically?
Judith: Look around! The future is female! I make it my business to hire female cooks, female hairdressers, female designers, you name it. Men are only good for one thing these days, well, two if you count my male guard dogs. You know-
Judith: Wah wah wah wah wah.
Judith: Wah wah wah wah wah. Wah wah?
Judith: You know what I mean?
Nancy: Um, yes. Yes.
Judith: You have no idea how excited I am, hon! I just know all those B list bitches will gag when they see my new home on the hill. I’m going to throw the biggest party of the decade just to show it off. Everyone will be dying to have their home designed by THE Nancy Landgraab!
Nancy: I will make sure it is my best work yet. I’ll start right away.
Judith: I know you will! I have a great feeling about this, Nancy Landgraab!
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atimeofyourlife · 11 months ago
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Time after time
written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: uncle wayne adopts steve | rated: t | wc: 942 | cw: reference to abuse, reference of canon fake suicide | tags: steve harrington has bad parents, steve harrington needs a hug
The first time they met, Wayne knew the boy couldn't be much older than fourteen. Definitely younger than Eddie, who was fast approaching sixteen. It was early, a little before 6 am, during summer vacation, no less. Wayne had finished his shift and called into Benny's to get a coffee and breakfast, on the mornings he did this, he was almost always the first customer of the day. Occasionally beaten in by a cop, or a firefighter, or anyone else that had been stuck with a night shift. But he had never seen a kid in so early. Sat alone in the corner booth nursing a cup of coffee with an almost empty plate in front of him.
"Mornin' Wayne. The usual?" Benny asked.
"You know it. But, uh. What's with the kid?" Wayne replied, nodding toward the boy in the corner.
"Dick and Linda's kid. They're back in town, and he needs a safe place. So he comes here."
"Why don't you report it?" "You think I haven't tried? His parents paid off just about everyone from the mayor down. Kid's not lucky enough to have any other family around to look out for him."
The kid came over with his empty cup and plate.
"I've told you a thousand times that you don't need to do that kid." Benny said.
The kid just shrugged.
"What's your name, kid?" Wayne asked.
"Steve, sir. Steve Harrington." He replied.
"I'm Wayne. And I wish my boy was as polite as you."
The second time they met, it was in more unfortunate circumstances. Benny's funeral. There'd been weird shit going on in town, starting with the Byers' kid going missing. Wayne didn't believe any of the official stories. But especially not the story of Benny's supposed suicide. He knew Benny so well, and something like that wasn't the sort of thing to cross his mind.  He took his place in the community too seriously for that.
But the kid had changed. A few years older, and a lot more haunted. The look in his eyes giving away that he'd seen more than his fair share in his young life. And he was jumpy, almost always looking over his shoulder.  He kept to himself, away from everyone else there. Wayne didn't see much of him until after. Steve was standing at the edge of the parking lot, his hands shaking as he tried to get his lighter to work.
"Here, kid." Wayne held his own lighter out.
"Thank you, sir." Steve replied, after taking a long puff on his cigarette.
"No need for thanks, kid. You doing okay?"
"I. I think I'm gonna miss him. He's helped me out a lot." Steve admitted.
"That was Benny for you. Always ready to help anyone out. But do you have anyone else you can reach out to if you need it?"
Steve hesitated a moment. "Yeah, sir. I do."
The third time, it was less of a meeting than Steve yelling directions at everyone. Tabitha, a woman who lived on the other side of the trailer park, collapsed in the middle of Big Buy. The kid snapped into action without second thought, checking Tabitha for a pulse, for her breathing. He yelled at an employee to call for an ambulance as he started chest compressions. At another to clear space. At some other customers to block the end of the aisle so no one else could stand around and watch. Wayne approached as Steve gave rescue breaths, before going back to the chest compressions. When he noticed Wayne, he looked like he was about to yell at him, but Wayne spoke first.
"It's okay, kid. She's my neighbor. And I know CPR too, so when you need a break I can take over."
They swapped places a few times before the paramedics showed up and took over.
"You did good, son. You acted quicker than any adults did. You may have just saved her life." "Anyone would have done it, sir. I was just the closest who knew what to do."
The fourth time, it was at the hospital. Steve in the hospital bed next to Eddie's, identical wounds, but Steve's were infected. Wayne got to talking to Steve while Eddie slept.
"I tried to protect him the best as I could, sir. I patched him up, and made sure he got to the hospital in time. I know I should have done more-"
"You did more than enough. You kept him alive, now you need to focus on making sure that you're healthy. And you can drop the sir shit. It's Wayne."
After that, Wayne lost count of the meetings. From sharing the hospital room with Eddie, to being friends, to being more. He would do as much for Steve as he would for Eddie, and wanted to ensure that both always had somewhere safe to return to.
"Steve, if you ever want to get out of that big empty house of yours, you're more than welcome to join us here. We'd love to have you move in with us." Wayne said to Steve one day while they were cooking together. Eddie always conveniently disappeared when anything cooking related came up.
"Sir, Wayne. I couldn't put you out like that." Steve replied.
"Nonsense. You're as much my kid as Eddie is, it don't matter who your momma or daddy is. We want you here, you spend enough time here as it is, we might as well make it official."
"I, Wayne. I'd like that." Steve was quite choked up, so Wayne pulled him into a hug. All was going to be okay, with him and his two boys.
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bethelighthalazia · 8 months ago
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Terrifying
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Summary:  Your gentle giant of a boyfriend Yunho doesn't always know how strong he is. This is proven during a fight between you two when he throws his guitar.
Genre: angst
Pairing: bf!Yunho X fem!reader
Word Count:  1944
Warnings: mean Yunho, arguing, swearing
networks: @mirohs-aurora-society
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© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.
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It was late in the evening when your boyfriend of two years arrived home from practice. You had cooked his favorite for him and then waited for his return. In the morning, he had said his schedule would end at 6 pm today. Now, it was almost 11 pm. The table set, you had waited patiently, but when Yunho didn't come home at 8, you resorted to the sofa, curling up on it with Yunho's hoodie he left laying there in the morning.
You didn't notice the keys jingle in the lock, nor did you hear your boyfriend enter the shared apartment. You fell asleep only a few minutes after you had laid down on the sofa and were now deeply asleep. Yunho only let out a tired sigh when he noticed you, he didn't mean to be this late, dance practice took longer than he had hoped. Seeing the set table, he then quietly put the food away into the fridge, so the two of you could eat it the next day. Contemplating whether to move you to the shared bed or leave you on the sofa, Yunho's decision is made the moment you shuffle. He gently picked you up and then set you down on the king sized bed in the bedroom, covering you with a blanket and then left to take a shower.
The next morning, you woke up cuddled against Yunho's large frame, a soft smile on your face, but then you remember the last evening, he again came home much later than he had told you. How many times did he promise you to be home early, but then break this promise. But you never said anything, because you knew that he works hard, it's normal to have late work and practice as an idol. You know that. Then why did a tear steal its way from your eyes? Why did it upset you that he came home this late last night?
Because it was your anniversary. Because it's the second time this year that he forgot such an important date. First your birthday, now your anniversary. 
You tried to be quiet, to suppress the sob that built up in your chest, but his strong arms around you didn't let you leave the bed. Swallowing hard, you tried to shuffle out of his grip, but this movement woke him up too, causing you to wince mentally.
“Morning, love…” He hummed with his usual sleepy voice which, on any other day, would have made you smile, but today it just brought another tear from your eyes. You didn't turn around, just whispered “Morning Yuyu” and curled up. This actually made him frown,you usually would smile at him, turn around to kiss him and then cuddle and try to make him stay in bed with you. “You have schedules today, you should get ready soon.” A look at the alarm clock on your nightstand confirms your words, but Yunho shook his head behind you. “We don't have any schedules today and the next two days, so we can spend the day together.” 
Normally you'd be happy about those words, but this morning, you just couldn't. “Okay, let's do that. Are you hungry?” Even your voice lacked the usual enthusiasm, even though you're trying to be happy to have your boyfriend home and for yourself for three days. And of course Yunho would notice this, turning you around, so he could look into your face while talking. The sight of your tears lets him stop and frown though. “Are- why are you crying, love? Are you in pain?” His voice filled with concern, he doesn't even realize that he's the reason you're crying this morning. 
“Y- you really forgot, hm?” It's a simple question and while you swallow down the disappointment and hurt, you manage to give him a little, almost crooked smile. “It's okay though, you had a hard week, it's not your fault, Yuyu. We can celebrate it next year.” Those words cause his eyes to go wide. The dinner he had put away, you on the sofa, it slowly falls in place. It had been your anniversary and he really did forget about it. 
Although, after only a few seconds, his shocked expression turns into a frown, then into something that looks angry or annoyed. “You know that my work will always be like this, y/n. I have to practice and sometimes it makes me come home late. You knew this from the beginning.” He said, leaning back a bit to look at you, which leaves you with confusion. 
“I know that, Yuyu, that's why I said it's okay, I don't-” “Then why are you acting like I'm the bad guy now?” He cut you off, which is unusual for him. He always listened to you, never interrupting you when you spoke before. Swallowing to not start to cry in front of him now, you just nod and get up from the bed, but he grabbed your wrist. Not the usual gentle way though, his grip was a bit harsher this time.
“Hey, we’re talking, I asked you something, y/n.” Frozen in place, you just stay at the edge of the bed, swallowing down a sob before you try to answer confidently, but your words only come out in a whispered voice. “I didn't, Yuyu…please, your grip hurts.” You didn't look at Yunho, somehow scared of him at this moment, but thankfully he lets go of your wrist. The shuffling behind you caused you to wince, but he had turned his back to you when he sat on the edge of his side of the bed, so you quickly made your way to the bathroom. When the door closes behind you, you could hear a loud thump, he had slammed his hand on the nightstand with a little annoyed growl.
When you came out, he wasn't in the bedroom anymore, so you made your way to the living room, where Yunho sat on the sofa, playing a game on his console. He still looked angry, so you let him be and walked to the kitchen area, where you saw all the food from last night thrown away. “Yuyu, did you-” You started, turning to leave the kitchen, but you almost ran into him. “Why did you throw it away?” It was a simple question from you, but for some reason, it flipped something inside him, an annoyed look on his face again.
“Another thing to nag me about? It's not really edible, so I threw it out. Hand me that water, so I can go back to my game.” Nag him? You never nagged him about anything, where was this coming from now? “Yuyu, I-” “Yuyu, I. You what? Looking for another reason to cry about?” He mocked, pushing past you to grab a bottle of water from the fridge before leaving the kitchen again, leaving you standing there, wondering what was wrong with him today.
You didn't know why he was like this, but you didn't like him talking to you like this, when you supported him all the time and never complained about anything to him. After a few moments, you follow him, swallowing the lump in your throat and stand in front of the TV now. You could hear the sound of his character dying in the game, but you didn't care. That is, until he stood in one move and started yelling. 
“What the fuck, y/n?? You just ruined hours of playing!” It's the first time ever that he's yelling at you and it hurts. “I don't care, Yunho! What's wrong with you today?” You're not yelling, the shakiness of your voice present as you try to speak up, tears already welling up in your eyes, but you don't cry. Yet.
“What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? You wake up and cry about me being late, then you nag at me. Don't you think you should be happy that I'm working hard?!” You never before witnessed him this angry, and for the first time in the years you know him, you're scared of Yunho. “You know how fucking hard it is to always go to work, let everyone walk over me while I'm always nice to everyone? Be told that I have to practice more, to be perfect?!”
With only a few steps, he walks over to grab his guitar, holding it up. “And then, I come home later because I did fucking practice, and it's not good enough! No, my girlfriend has to cry about me forgetting to be home in time for dinner.” “It's not about the dinner, Yunho! I told you it's okay, why are you yelling at me now?” You tried to talk back, your voice isn't nearly as loud and stable as you had hoped though. “Why am i- maybe because I'm fuckin tired of you making me to be the bad guy here?! If it's okay and just dinner, why do you have to cry about it?!” With those words, he lets out his built up anger, throwing his guitar at the TV. With you standing near it, you flinch, eyes widen and when both things break and pieces split off and hit you, you can't hold back the sobs. 
The moment Yunho threw the guitar, he realized what he did, his eyes widened in shock, real shock this time. Not only about your sobs, but also because he hurt you. All the anger subsided immediately and he took a careful step towards you, but you just flinched and stumbled backwards. “Y/n, I- I'm sorry, I didn't-” He whispered, his voice a stark contrast against the yelling only moments earlier. You knew he meant this, but you're terrified, dropping onto the floor in a sitting position as sobs shake your body and tears just run free. You didn't even register the pain yet from where the little pieces of debris had hurt you, nor did you care about them bleeding a bit.
“Please, let me- let me take a look…you're hurt, love-” You heard his voice, but only shook your head no, still crying. Letting out a heavy sigh followed by an own sob, Yunho quickly reached for his phone, calling his best friend and putting him on speaker the moment Mingi picked up. “Yunho? Yah, why do you wake me?” Mingi sounded as if he just woke up, but when he heard your quiet crying through the phone, he sat up in his bed, fully awake. “Is y/n crying? Wha-” “Yes, she is…can you come here? Right now?” It didn't need any more words for Mingi to hang up and hurry to rush into the apartment not even five minutes later. The apartment was not far from the dorms, which came in handy this time. However, when Mingi walked into the living room, he froze in place, seeing the shattered TV, the broken guitar and you sitting on the floor, crying and hurt.
He quickly stepped over to you, noticing you flinch when Yunho made the tiniest of movements. Mingi knew that Yunho always bottles up his anger and sometimes it just has to burst out, this time, it seems to have happened around you, which Yunho always tried to avoid. “Hey, it's okay y/nnie, I'm here. He won't hurt you, okay?” Mingi whispered, gently checking your wounds, which are merely little scratches and nothing too deep. Then, he picked you up to carry you to the bedroom, gathered some of your things before just carrying you out of the apartment and took you to the dorms with him. 
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taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson, @hotteokkay, @minkiliciouss, @bunnliix, @gong-fourz
(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)
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bnpd · 8 months ago
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❝ LONG SHOT ! ❞ ; 001
❝ PROFESSIONAL BASKETBALL PLAYER!GOJO SATORU X PHYSICAL THERAPIST!READER. ❞
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SYNOPSIS: After an unexpected encounter with the infamous Gojo Satoru at a local convenience store at 3 A.M. You're given the opportunity to worm your way into his life, but not without a personal invitation from Gojo himself. One thing leads to another, and you're the first person they call when he gets a career-threatening injury, forcing both of you to spend day and night together, but not without some obstacles of course: your cousin.
WORD COUNT : 8K SERIES MASTERLIST : ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . NAVIGATION : ꩜
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PT. 1 : PT. 2
Your days start off simple. Wake up at 5 am. Shower at 5:05. Get ready at 5:30. Breakfast at 6:30am. Leave your cozy city apartment at 7:00 am –sharp– to make it to work. 
“Good morning Miwa,” you greet politely, walking past her desk and she scrambles to gather her clipboard. Hot on your tail, she frantically looks over her notes. “What do you have for me today?” You ask.
“Doctor, your first consultation of the day is waiting for you in your office! And your regular patient called to let you know that those exercises you suggested are working wonders!” You nod and hum occasionally to inform her that you’re listening as you maneuver through the rest of the doctors, stopping momentarily to encourage a patient lifting weights. She speaks quickly. “And Doctor Shoko called to ask if you’ll be going to…” she pauses and you figure she’s looking at her notes again. “The basketball game,” and she's quick to add “ —the Jujutsu Sorcerers are playing tomorrow night.” 
You stop abruptly outside of your office door, feeling Miwa lightly bump into your back before she mutters a swift apology. You turn around, raising a questioning eyebrow. “She called about that? Tell her I’m bus-”. Miwa’s quick to intercept. “She insists! Plus, I thought you loved the Jujutsu Sorcerers?”
You think it over.
You did like them. No. They were your absolute favorite basketball team. Besides, you could never turn down a basketball game. 
“Fine. I’ll see her tomorrow night. Thank you Miwa.”
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“We have just minutes to go here in the fourth quarter of the season opener at the Sorcerer Stadium. The Jujutsu Sorcerers are up by ten over the Special Grades, thanks much to the tremendous effort of the star point guard, Gojo Satoru.” 
Inside the stadium is loud, as fans cheer on their favorite teams. It’s a full game tonight. A completely sold out stadium with all the people that showed up to praise their favorite players. The energy is loud, and fun. As people stand, and others sit in their seats in a stressful manner—mostly the losing team. 
The two kids behind you wear matching Jujutsu Sorcerers jerseys. One boy is sporting a 01 while the other sports a 02. One for the infamous Gojo Satoru and the other for Geto Suguru. You’re happy to admit that you too are sporting a number 01 jersey.
“Gojo Satoru, one of the best point guards in the league. Living up to his reputation and title of the ‘Chosen One’, tonight.” You listen, and watch intently as the announcers speak of Gojo. As he dribbles left, dodging every player in his way, bypassing their attempts to stop him. He’s unstoppable. 
“He looks inside. And he’s got nothing there.” The announcer anticipates. The crowd stands up from their seats eager to watch his next move. Their anticipation is intense as everyone in the stadium witnesses the Gojo Satoru work up close.
“He’s gonna take it himself!” The announcer exclaimed in disbelief, he himself could not believe this. “Behind the back! He puts it up, and it's good” The entire stadium puts their hands up to cheer, and scream. You see a mix of colors in the crowd, mostly a light blue in support of the Jujutsu Sorcerers. 
You tune out the announcers as Gojo Satoru is celebrating his team's score. He’s sweating so much his jersey sticks to his chest and stomach. You can faintly make out the outline of his abs. His muscles flex as he lifts his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his forehead, his abs on full display. You grin at how hot he is. Anyone with eyes can see it. You swear you hear the girls cheer louder at the display of skin. Even if you were still here for the game, you were still a woman after all. 
“You’re drooling.” Shoko points out beside you, and you almost reach your hand towards your mouth to check before you playfully narrow your eyes at her. “Please,” you say dismissively, “What’s the correct way to react to a court full of sweaty hot guys? Watch the game?”. 
Her eyes roll dramatically before sporting a playful grin, and you bump your shoulder against hers to bring out a full smile from her. You succeed. 
Shoko continues to cheer on the team. This is the most excited you’ve seen her since she found a remaining cigarette in her car after she’d just ran out. You were so distracted by the cigarette addict beside you that you almost missed the foul they gave the other team as Gojo Satoru stands on the free throw line. 
“Gojo Satoru shot 95% from the freethrow line last season, but he’s been 100% tonight.” The announcers go back to bickering about the game, praising Gojo’s in-game scores. “Let’s see if he stays on his hot streak tonight, and for the rest of the season–”. 
Gojo dribbles the ball, and the stadium remains silent. The tension thick in the air as they hold their breath–even you, who leans forward in anticipation. He locks his knees, and shoots straight into the basketball hoop. The ball never even touches the rim. He makes both shots. Gojo smirks cockily as he slaps Geto’s hand twice in celebration. 
“-And he’s done it! It’s 12 in a row, for Gojo Satoru. Geto Suguru–number two–has 10 tonight. Quite a duo on the court. I would say.” 
Shoko and you cheer on the team as they celebrate the win themselves. The kids behind you scream so loud your eardrums almost pop, but you can’t find it in yourself to mind.
The energy in the stadium tonight reminds you of why you loved going to basketball games in the first place. The excitement in the court, and in the entire stadium is something no one can miss. 
The kids behind you are so excited that it spreads to you, and you jump up to celebrate with them. Their toothy smiles are so big and bright. They warm your heart. The moment is quickly ruined by the woman sitting on the other side of you, opposite Shoko. 
“Look at that!” Your cousin harshly tugs your arm, pulling you down to reach her seat. “The player’s wives section. Full of snobby bitches.” Her fingers frantically shake to dramatize how much she wants you to see. “I’m looking.” You reply exasperated before rolling your eyes. “She has a custom Birkin! Do you have any idea how expensive that is?” She asks, and you reply with a muttered response “A house mortgage loan, I assume.”
Your cousin was—to put it shortly–spoiled, but you respected her views on someday marrying a rich man. The only problem with that is that she even uses the good ones.
She was a model. Not a well known one, but a model nonetheless. She was gorgeous, and everyone knew it. Even the men you dated. Most of them had gone as far to tell you. But you never let it deter your self-esteem. Men are a defective species and that has nothing to do with you. You choose to push that thought aside before it can develop into a mental breakdown in the middle of a basketball game. 
The children screaming behind you interrupt it before it can. “Look, look!” The kids behind you frantically poke at you to look. 
“He just made a three-pointer,” the boy lisps a little, and you swear you feel the saliva hit your face.
More than half of the game is just Gojo Satoru stealing the ball, and making countless scores. 
You look up at the clock and see the time as it read ten seconds on the board. 
“Gojo Satoru again with the ball!” You watch as he steals the ball and dribbles all the way across the court. Five seconds on the clock. He jumps up, and slams the ball directly into the basketball net with both hands still hanging onto the rim. “Anddd Number 1… brings the game home!” And the final buzzer rings across the court, calling the game. Zero seconds on the board. 
The announcer makes one last comment, “Unbelievable performance by Gojo Satoru.” 
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Gojo is instantly swarmed with reporters in hopes of getting a word with him. But he’s fine with this. He loves the attention. He loves it when all eyes are on him. He thinks it’s how it should always be. A cocky man at heart. 
“Tremendous game tonight Gojo Satoru.” The reporter speaks, and she’s too close for any regular reporter, and Gojo catches onto it quickly. “Thank you, thank you.” He responds in an airy flirty tone. 
He scans the stands, and his eyes catch onto a woman helping two kids from their seats—they wear the number of his jersey, and Getos. His eyebrows furrow, and he tunes out the reporter subconsciously. The mysterious woman laughs at something her friend says—and his eyebrows lift up in surprise at the recognition of his friend, Shoko.
“Almost a decade with the Jujutsu Sorcerers, the only franchise you’ve ever played for…” a male reporter takes a lead on his attention as Gojo turns his head over to talk to the male reporter. He smiles into the camera, a radiant smile. 
A player from the opposing team passes Gojo before patting his back, and cheers at him for the good game. 
“...But you’re a free agent at the end of the season. The question everyone wants to know… will Gojo Satoru re-sign with the Jujutsu Sorcerers?” he asks as he shifts the microphone from side to side at the question, urging Gojo to answer. The reporters surrounding him, too, lean closer into him. 
Gojo licks his lips before responding. His chest breathing erratically from the previous game, “I prove myself night in and night out on that court. I’m the best in the league right now. Of course they’ll sign me. I’m the best.”
He winks at the female reporter after his proud admission as her face turns bright red at the display of flirtation. She lowers the microphone to say something to him personally before his manager comes disrupting the flirty exchange and drags him away from the reporters as their distant shouts begin to fade, entering the locker room.  
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You’re exiting the stadium before one of your cousin’s friends invites herself into the conversations. Completely interrupting your rant about how horrible the injury a recent basketball player received. 
“Girl, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” You turn around at the sound of the high-pitched voice, and see a woman dressed in all black, some large classy sunglasses, and a dark cherry red lipstick. Her aura emitted elegance, and high-class. 
“Hey,” she greets you in a monotone voice before turning over to your cousin again and her excitement seems to be shot back into her system as she begins to ramble to your cousin. Your head tilts at her attitude. Disbelief is clear on your face.“It is so packed in here, it is so gross.” She comments with an undeniable hint of disgust in her voice as she clutches her mini purse closer to her. 
“But anyway!” she dismisses, “Gojo Satoru… is having a birthday party Saturday night at his house, but we don’t have the tickets yet, sooooo we’re going to an after party tonight, and see if we can worm ourselves into getting some tickets.” She picks at her nails before grabbing your cousin's hands to shake them in an urging manner. She takes her glasses off to show her a pleading look. 
Your cousin lifts her eyebrow in question, “Where’s the after party?”
“The Shibuya Hotel.” Your cousin thinks it over before nodding, turning over to you. “You don’t mind do you?” 
You smile at her, “No, not at all. Do your thing.” 
“K-K, bye!” Her long slender fingers moving back and forth in a quick and dismissive goodbye. 
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The bells above the door jingle to announce the presence of someone entering the convenience store. The sudden sound of them has you looking up. 
After the game ended you went home and locked yourself up to finish some remaining paperwork, before checking the time and deciding to grab a snack at your favorite corner store. 
You glance up at the clock in wonder. It’s currently 3 a.m, and the convenience store tucked into the sketchy corner of the city is always empty. It’s quite a walk from here to your apartment, but a welcomed one. Especially at this time. You always found yourself making late night trips to the store for a midnight snack. They were just something you found quite peaceful. A walk in the dark as you play your favorite playlist, finding a chance to lose yourself in your own head. 
You were close to the owner, an old sweet man that conjured a liking to you because of how much you resembled his daughter that was currently deployed overseas. 
You spare a glance at the hooded figure that steps into the store, their back turned to you, but you note how tall they are. A shiver runs down your spine as the opened door allows cold air to rush into the tight space.
You’re not sure if the shiver was a cause of the gust of wind that slithered its way inside or the new presence of the looming figure. You don't like to ponder on the possibility that it might be the latter.
You continue to browse through the mochi flavors, looking for your beloved one. It’s unusual for them to be unstocked around this time, considering how cold the weather is. And how empty this side of town finds itself to be. You sigh as you bend down to get a better look. 
You feel a presence behind you, and you stiffen at their closeness. A masculine, slender hand, comes into view, as it reaches for the exact flavor of mochi you so happened to be reaching for as well. You both freeze at the sudden, and unexpected contact before both releasing a nervous laugh. 
But neither of you find it in yourselves to retract your hands. You clear your throat before speaking. 
“Listen…It’s been a rough night,” You start, and turn to face him, but pause mid sentence at the look of what he’s wearing. A black face mask, a black hoodie with the hood of it over his head, and some sunglasses?…At night…and indoors? Not only that, but the man in question was insanely tall. Taller than any regular man you’ve encountered. He had the height of a basketball player. 
“Never mind,” You suddenly find yourself not in the mood to argue with a suspicious stranger at 3 a.m. in a sketchy part of town.
Your mother always taught you that as a woman being careful with who you piss off, especially a man that could bring you harm, was important. You wish you had the confidence to defend yourself physically, but you’d rather never have to take those chances. That was the reality of it. 
“You can keep it.” You mutter before gathering your things, and speeding over to the cash register. You watch him scan your items, but you can’t shake off the feeling of two eyes burning holes in your back throughout the whole ordeal.
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You pull your scarf tighter against your neck as you speed walk in the direction of your apartment. The cold of the fall and lack of sun always make your entire body quiver. You thank your past self for wearing thick layers of clothing, knowing you wouldn’t be able to handle the freezing weather. 
You never could handle the cold.
Your senses heightened when you heard steps approaching behind you, quickly at that. 
You clench your first in your coat jacket, readying yourself for anything. The steps get closer, and you wait until you feel their presence closely behind you before swinging around, surprising him with a amateaur punch. “Ow!” the stranger winces. “What the fuck!” He chokes out in surprise, holding his face in shock.
You bring your hands up to your mouth in a gasp. “Oh- My-God!” A frantic apology is quick to escape your lips. “Why would you do that?!” You question the stranger exasperatedly. “Don’t–sneak up on a woman like that!” Your hands move around to signal the obvious, it’s dark. 
“Well, fuck!” He responds, “I was just trying to give you the mochi,” His hand extends to reveal the truth. A mochi sits in his grasp—not just any mochi—the one you abandoned back in the store for the sake of it. He chased after you to give it to you. 
Your body deflates at the realization, and it makes you feel a tiny bit sorry. Not for long when you realize he's most certainly at fault. He should’ve known not to approach a girl in the dead of night.
A few feet of distance separates you both, but you can’t help but release a tiny embarrassed laugh at the comedic situation. Your contagious laugh seems to transfer to him because he releases a small huff of amusement under his breath.
You’re both standing under a streetlamp a few feet away from the convenience store, in a defense mode. The stranger in front of you still holds onto his face in an attempt to relieve the pain. 
The physical therapist in you kicks in, and you step closer towards him to inspect the damage. He’s reluctant to let you approach him, tensing is evident in the way his shoulders square up. But you reassure him. “It’s okay,” you softly comfort, “I’m a physical therapist, I just want to see that it won’t bruise or anything.” 
Your words seem to help because his guarded shoulders deflate a little.
“Let me see,” you murmur into the dark, reaching over to remove his hand. He watches you intently through his glasses, and you realize he’s wearing a lot to protect his face. You take the time to study his remote way of dressing. His attempt to hide himself, you reason within yourself. His hair is covered by a black hood, paired with a black beanie, a black face mask that covers his lips and nose, a light blue sweatshirt that brings some color, some gray sweats that cover the entirety of his long legs, and a black puffer jacket to help keep the cold out. He looks warm, yet cold at the same time. 
You wonder why he’s deliberately trying to hide who–or what—he is. 
You find out soon enough because when you peel off his hand, and later his face mask to get a better look at his cheek you blurt out the first thing that crosses your mouth. 
“You’re Gojo Satoru.” It’s spoken in a whisper, he almost doesn’t hear the acknowledgement with how soft your voice travels. Your eyes are wide with surprise, and a bit of elation. It felt like a caress, he notes.
A choked gasp almost leaves your lips when you take off his sunglasses and find the most unreal set of blue eyes stare back at you.
“The one, and only.” His response doesn’t come out as confident as he planned. Instead it came off shaky, and unsure. Breathless even. He blames it on the look on your face, and the way you stare intently into his eyes, seeing straight through him. His lips crack into a smile, and the amused look in your eye caused by his cheesy line.
“You sound more confident on TV.” You retaliate. He’s quick with a witty response, “Maybe you just make me nervous.” He wets his lips with a swipe of his tongue, taking you in. You’re illuminated by the streetlamp.
You laugh at his stupid attempt to flirt with you, playfully dismissing his advances. 
Bringing your focus back to his cheek you inspect it before speaking, “It won’t bruise,” He looks like he’s ready to speak up but you interrupt him by finishing your sentence, “But—you’ll still need to ice it. At least for tonight.”
Of course it wouldn’t bruise, you’ve never taken any lessons on how to properly hit—let alone land a punch. You punched him in hopes of catching him off guard before he could surprise you, giving you the chance to run for the hills, not because you knew you’d be able to take a stranger in a fight. 
When your fight or flight response kicked in, you didn’t even ponder the possibility of punching a professional athlete, let alone a professional basketball player. One that played for your favorite team. Quite frankly you were starstruck, and the fangirl in you was having an entire party. The Gojo Satoru was here. Right in front of you. He was even more gorgeous up close—taller too.
The cameras did indeed do him justice, but nothing ever compares to the real thing. His bright blue eyes, and snow-white lashes were straight out of a magical fairytale. As much as you’d like to jump up and down, and then hug him, you knew you had to contain yourself. Otherwise you would scare him away. Or he would feel too uncomfortable to engage in casual conversation with a crazy fan.
But you were more of a basketball fan than solely a Gojo Satoru fan, and that fact alone was keeping you at bay. Your early childhood years of having a basketball coach father always kept you engaged in basketball in general. 
After going back inside the convenience store to grab some ice from the ice machine—with Gojo trailing closely behind you—you both now sat on the edge of the sidewalk right in front of the convenience store, talking amongst one another about nothing in particular. The only source of lighting being the lit up convenience store, and the streetlamp hovering over your seater figures. 
Gojo sits beside you with a hand holding the ice pack to his face, while another is used to reach into the bag of mochi to grab some more. But your mind can’t seem to ignore how close you two sit against one another, your thighs are almost touching from your close proximity. 
“Thank you.” Gojo’s hushed voice cuts through the silly conversational atmosphere, and turns into a semi-serious one.
A tiny toothless smile spreads across your face, “You can thank me, by winning the championships.” Your knee knocks into his in an attempt to bring back the playful mood, and he takes it gratefully. He responds eagerly by knocking his knee against yours in response. His touch shoots a tingle up your spine.
Your smile must be contagious because the cutest lopsided smile makes an appearance on Gojo’s face, “Oh, so you’re really a die-hard fan?” He teases.
“Ever since I was a little girl.”
“How so?” He asks, his eyes never leaving your face as his hands reach into the bag of mochi to munch on.
“Well,” You think about your next words as you gesture for Gojo to move the bag of mochi closer so that you can grab a piece, “My dad was a college basketball coach—still is—and all through elementary to middle school I would often sit on the side of practices and watch them play. So I kind of developed an interest in watching the sport. I find it nostalgic—in a way. My dad and I just bond over it.”
You mention how you were looking to become a professional NBA physical therapist. It had been your dream ever since you were a little girl. And it still is. Though you’re a current sports physical therapist— the best in your field—you want more.
He’s silent as he reflects on your response. You take this as your chance to bite into your mochi, humming contently at the yummy taste. The chewy texture is satisfying against your tongue, its sweetness seeping into your mood. 
“That’s cool,” he replies after a moment of silence. “I grew up watching—and playing—basketball too.” He pauses, and you patiently wait as he collects his thoughts.
“But mostly because our family has been professional basketball players for generations, and I just kind of fell into that.” 
You nod your head in understanding. You wonder if he’s playing because he genuinely likes the game or because it’s expected of him to continue the tradition. The legacy.
You knew about the Gojo family being generational professional basketball players. Every single one of them have played for the Jujutsu Sorcerers, and because of them they’ve always been an outstanding basketball team. Some consider them to be reincarnations of each other, but that’s just silly internet theories. 
There’s numerous articles about the Gojo family, a lot of them highlighting the way they dominate almost every industry. Their wealth, and worldwide superiority is insanely known. It went beyond just Gojo’s direct family playing professional basketball, their entire family tree is gifted with various qualities. 
You can’t imagine the burden he must carry. 
One thing is certain and it’s that you’re genuinely delighted in his presence. You realize he’s silent before looking over at him, and you frown at the unreadable look on his face. “What’s wrong?” You probe.
His gorgeous bright blue eyes look all over your face in an analytical kind of way, before a ghost smile grazes his features. “Nothing,” he says softly, his eyes staring softly at you, “Nothing at all.” He turns back to bite into his mochi, chewing on it before contently humming to himself. 
A familiar tune, you realize, and you gasp before hitting his arm, “Is that the Digimon tune?” His eyes twinkle in surprise, and something like eagerness—before he takes off into another excited rant. Telling you about his favorite digital pet model toy he used to own as a kid, and how he still has a collection of them at home. He tells you about how he wishes to find a rare one. His descriptions are so animated, and you can’t help but stare fondly at his features. 
Though you weren’t a huge digimon fan, you don’t bother telling him in fear of breaking through his elation.
How the corner of his lips turns up in excitement or how his hands are used to animatedly demonstrate what he is trying to portray. Often used to wave them around. Your favorite feature would have to be his eyes, and the way they sparkle when he talks about something he's passionate about. Even in the darkness his ice cold blue eyes find a way to look so warm.
You like the bubble you’ve both created for yourselves. Time feels unimportant, and worries feel so far away. 
After his rant you fall back into a comfortable silence. The ambience around you does a good job at filling the silence. The crickets hidden in the grass sing as the wind blows, swaying the trees. The moon lightens up the world to the best of her ability. But the city is alive, it always is. New York never sleeps, even at night. It’s probably the time it’s most awake.
Gojo breaks the comfortable silence,“What are you doing Saturday night?” 
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You make it back at 7 a.m., (with the help of Gojo driving you home), and thank the gods that you didn’t have work today. Shoko would’ve pestered you about your late-night whereabouts. 
You’re welcomed by the sight of your cousin sitting on the floor by the coffee table surrounded by numerous magazines scattered around the living room. Her concentration prompts you to raise a skeptical eyebrow. 
Cautiously walking into her space to not cause a disturbance, you ask her why she has a mess in your living room. 
“I’m researching.” What could she possibly be researching in a magazine?
She notices your confused silence, and heavily sighs before putting her pen down. “I’m trying to figure out how to marry a professional athlete so that I can leech off him, and live a happy–rich–life. A girl doesn’t just become the wife of a NBA franchise player by accident.” She takes a moment to apply lip gloss before continuing. 
“It takes strategy, good intel, and vision.” She finishes off before grabbing the poster board sitting next to her, showing you a pin board with various different basketball players. Thankfully, a certain bright blue eyed player is absent. 
Next to each of their pictures is their name, age, birthday, interests, basketball team, and other miscellaneous facts. Her entire pin-board looks like an FBI investigation wall.
“Modeling only pays so much. Especially as a model who isn’t a Super-model.” An exasperated breath leaves her lips as if she was exhausted from just explaining the obvious to you.
“I mean look at this!” She says, frantically showing you the magazine. You lean over to get a better look as you read the title. 
‘PROFESSIONAL ATHLETE, NANAMI KENTO’S WIFE STARTS BRAND NEW BAKING TELEVISION SHOW.’
 “These women get fragrance deals, shoe lines, clothing lines, like; Oh.My.God! Even shows!” Each admission becomes more passionate than the last. As she continues to rant to you. “I’m almost 30. I need to start thinking for myself, and my future. Like, now. I’ll find a man, and use him.” 
You laugh at her crazy talk, you start putting fingers down as you list her current struggles, “You’re crashing in my guestroom.” One finger down. “Your BMW got repossessed because you stopped making payments.” Two fingers down. “You haven’t been able to hold a steady job.” Three fingers down. “And you don’t even help clean the house.” Four fingers down.
You wave them in front of her face to try and get your point across. “Look, I’m all for you finding a rich man in the future, and living off of him—that’s fine. But for now, at least help around the house when you can. I work lots of shifts at the clinic, the least you could do is help at home—” 
“Especially since you don’t help me pay any bills.” She’s ready to protest, and cut you off. You make sure you get the last word in. “I don’t care because I get paid enough to cover this nice apartment in the middle of the city. Just, take some stress off my shoulders.” You smile kindly at her.
She lets out a huff of annoyance before turning back to her magazines, and ignoring you. A tired sigh escapes your lips. Her gloomy mood makes you feel pitiful, but thankfully you remember what Gojo said to you that night. 
“Besides, how are you gonna get an NBA husband, if you…” You grab your phone, and tap on the screen before showing her the details for Gojo Satoru’s Saturday birthday party, “Don’t go to the gatherings?” 
Her eyes grow wide with excitement, and she jumps up to hug you. “How did you do that?” She questions in disbelief, as she grabs your phone to see the tickets. “Well, I bumped into him in the street, and one thing led to another so he invited me.” 
She squeals before hugging you again. “I need to figure out what I need to wear. No—I need to figure out what I need to buy to wear.” She runs to your guest room in excitement, muttering to herself as she begins to move further and further away from you. The door slammed shut as an indication that you’re now alone in the living room.
You choose to keep the details hidden of how exactly you met Gojo because of how personal they felt. It felt like something sacred that should be kept between Gojo and you. You didn’t want to let anyone inside your little bubble. As selfish as that sounded. 
What happened earlier this morning felt so refreshing. You softly smile to yourself before walking to your room to rest your eyes before the party. 
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Your mom has always believed in destiny. That the universe worked in mysterious ways. She liked the idea that everything was meant to be. People were at a certain place, and time for a reason. Even if you lose something—whatever it may be— the first time, it’ll always come back someway, somehow. 
You believe it now as she enters your old adolescent room before you, holding a box in her hands. You had decided to get ready at your parents house because of how convenient it would be, considering how Gojo’s house is closer to your parent’s house compared to yours. 
“You are going to find a husband tonight.” Your mother laughs. You playfully roll your eyes at her admission. “Mom… don’t start.” You half-heartedly warn before she goes off her lovesick rant, placing the box on the table next to you. 
“Honey, I married your father, and he still can’t believe his luck. I mean I understand, I am beautiful, and so is my gorgeous daughter—”
“—and niece!” Your cousin adds before going back to the mirror, touching up her eyelashes. 
Your mother and you sweetly laugh before continuing, “I mean, when I first met him, it was like love at first sight.” You can’t help the frown that overtakes your features at her admission, a certain white-haired blue eyed man coming to mind.
“Anyway,” Your mother says before waving dismissively, “I have a surprise.” She smiles, before opening the box she had brought with her. You gasp as she pulls out the most gorgeous set of earrings you’ve ever laid eyes on. “Are those…?” You trail off in question. 
“Your grandmother’s diamond earrings.” Your mother confirms before gazing softly at them. “She wore them the night she met your grandfather, and I wore them the night I met your father. And now I want you to wear them.” She tells you. 
“They’re beautiful!” Your cousin compliments, quickly picking herself up from her seat and making her way over. “They are more than beautiful,” Your mother responds in agreement.
“I don’t think those will suit her Auntie, but they will suit me!” You glare at your cousin. Your mom smiles at your cousin before handing them to her. A look of betrayal paints your face. “Then I think you should wear them.” 
Your heart drops at the admission, and before you could protest. The earrings are already on her before you could blink. “What do you think?” She asks you. Ugly. You think. 
“I think I need a shot.” You mutter. 
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“Oh my god.” Your cousin says in amazement. “This is beautiful.”
You can’t help but silently agree with her. Gojo’s house was beyond gorgeous. The house was elegant, simplistic, yet lived in. It was decorated enough to uplift the house, rather than outshine it. 
You walk through the main entrance, and see a lot of faces you’d usually see on TV, magazines, and billboard signs. Lots of Gojo’s teammates scatter among the crowd. They’re easy to spot considering their height. 
The music is played to a low volume. The atmosphere emits one of class, tranquility yet fun, and livelihood. People chatter away, immersed in their own worlds, without a care in the world. You suppose that people who have the privilege to attend a Gojo gathering can afford to live without a care in the world. 
As you enter the main living room, you hear a voice command the room. Perfecting timing. 
“I’d like to make a special toast, for a special birthday boy.” Geto grins, lifting his drink to cheer, before grabbing Gojo by the neck and continuing with what you suspect is a birthday speech. As if on queue the people begin to gather around Geto and Gojo.
“I’m sure you’ve all heard this before,” Geto pauses before continuing, “that when some people become rich and famous they turn into pricks…” He looks back at Gojo, “But Satoru’s always been a rich and famous asshole, so it doesn’t apply to him.” He laughs before receiving a shove from Gojo as they share a hearty laugh together. 
“Point is, he’s still the same guy from high school…minus the stickman legs, and high-pitched voice.” The crowd joins in on Geto’s laughter, “To my one and only best friend, happy birthday.” The crowd cheers, and a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday!' ring throughout the room. “Thank you Suguru.” You watch as Gojo and Geto prepare themselves to do a load of shots. As the music begins to pick up again, and the crowd disperses. 
Your cousin taps your shoulder, and you look over at her, “I’m gonna go explore okay?” 
“Oh! O–” You turn around to find her already gone, “--Kay.”
You find your way to the bar, as you sweetly greet the bartender. “Can I have a glass of champagne?”
You’re waiting patiently against the bar when you feel a tap on your shoulder, and a look of surprise crosses your features at the sight of Gojo’s beaming smile. “You made it.” He says happily, eyeing you with a dopey smile. 
“Happy birthday!” You tell him, and his hand rests beside your waist against the bar, slightly caging you in. “I got you a card!” You say, reaching into your handbag for the Digimon themed birthday card, and a breathy chuckle leaves Gojo’s lips at the sight of it. 
His eyes twinkle when he looks back up at you, “Aw, come on,” He says before continuing with a fake pout, “No surprise punch?” 
You laugh at his lame teasing, but play along with him anyway. “Maybe next time, if you decide to run up behind me in the middle of the night, I’ll give you two.” His lips set on a teasing yet flirty smile, raising a questioning eyebrow, “Next time? With the way you look tonight, there will definitely be a next time—”
“Oh god!” A frantic voice interrupts you both, and you’re not surprised to find out the culprit is your cousin. Although you’re happy that she found you again, currently her presence is an unwelcome one. Her hand rests on your shoulder as she looks into your eyes. Your annoyance is quickly replaced with worry as it immediately overtakes your features. “There you are! I am so sorry, but I need to leave.” Your cousin says. 
“What? Why? Is everything okay?” You ask, quickly scanning her for any physical injuries. “Everything is okay! It’s just that I got a call from the non-profit I was working with, and they need me to come in immediately.”
Non-profit? Working with?
“What? You don’t–”, She gives you a look that causes a realization to wash over you. She’s lying to make a good impression. With a roll of your eyes, you clear your throat to look back at Gojo but find that he is already fixated on something. Or more like someone. 
Your cousin. The look on his face causes a sinking feeling to settle in your stomach. “Hey.” He says. 
“Gojo, this is my cousin.” You tell him her name before continuing, “We grew up together.” 
Your cousin barely glances at Gojo before realization dawns on her about who he is, and a flirty smile graces her features. “Oh, hi. Nice to meet you.” She says, before slipping back into a false indifference. Gojo’s eyes never leave her figure, but your cousin has a game to play, and it’s her favorite one. Unfortunately for Gojo, he’s playing right into it. 
“One of the volunteers at the homeless shelter I help out at, just called in sick. So I need to go.” She begins to walk away, but Gojo stops her before she can. “You know, I volunteer too.”
“That’s cool," she says before turning to you and perking up again, “I have to stop by the store to buy some games for the kids, okay?” You couldn’t believe her. Her head tilted to one side while listening to him, a hidden sheen of interest coated her eyes. 
You think you might have to kill yourself after this.
Gojo’s eyebrows raise once again in a curious manner, “You two…live together?” 
“If by living together, you mean she free-loads, then yeah! We live together.” That earns you a gentle elbow in the stomach. “How can I get in touch with you?” He persists with an unrelenting stare.
“Oh…Gojo…It’s Gojo, right?” You feel your eyes roll involuntarily,” I’m sorry I’ve tried the whole ‘dating an athlete thing, and…it’s not my thing. But it was really nice talking to you.” She turns to you once again, and you swear you see a menacing glint in her eye. “Are you ready?”
To jump off a cliff? Absolutely. 
Your cousin walks away, and anger overtakes your entire body. You turn to look at Gojo, and deflate at how his attention is solely on her, and the way she confidently walks away, catching the eyes of many men. Unaware of the attention you hinder as well.
You feel sick to your stomach. You should’ve asked the bartender for a round of shots.
Gojo’s friends watch as you walk away with interest in their eyes. “You know, the objective is not to make them leave.” Geto speaks up. Entranced by you. 
But Gojo’s eyes stay focused elsewhere, before looking at Geto, “I think this worked out just great.” He trails off.
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“What the hell was that back there?” You interrogate in a tight voice as soon as you shut the car door. “Oh. Come on.” The tone of her voice has you reeling back. You watch in disbelief as your cousin reapplies her lipstick through your car vanity mirror. She pops her lips before continuing, “Was he looking at me when I walked away?” Her eyes shine with a gleam of deviltry.
A scoff leaves your lips, and you look away from her. “Yes, he was.” Sadly. “You do realize, you don’t work—let alone volunteer—for a homeless shelter, right?” 
“Obviously,” she counters, “But he seemed like the kind to fall for that kind of stuff. So I gave it to him, and it worked. I won’t even need to work a job anymore when I get to live in this big house.” Her hands gesture back to the direction of Gojo’s house before continuing to fix her makeup. 
“You don’t even work a job now.” You emphasize with raised eyebrows, and a tilt in your head. “Besides, you rejected him.”
“Yeah,” your cousin responds in a ‘duh’ tone, “That’s probably the first time that’s ever happened since…forever. Trust me…” She trails off while fixing her hair, “I’ll be hearing from him.”
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And she did. 
The next morning you’re almost leaving your apartment for work when you hear a knock, and find a well dressed Gojo before your eyes. You raise a questioning eyebrow at the sight of his presence. 
He eyes you for a little before clearing his throat. “Is your cousin here?” A hesitant tone overtakes his features, studying you for a reaction. 
Your heart threatens to drop, but you clear your head before it can. “Yeah.” You respond somberly before continuing, “She’s in her room. I’ll go get her.” You turn around to fetch your cousin but pause mid-turn as a sudden question sweeps into your head. You turn to face him once again in clear confusion.
“How did you know I lived here?” You ask skeptically. Gojo grins confidently, a lazy smile gracing his features, “I know people.” 
“That’s reassuring.” You drift away from him after curtly inviting him inside your home, and you watch as he studies your cozy apartment. Zero-ing in on the personal pictures of you you’ve hung up on your bookshelf. A faint hum comes out of him as he studies your pictures intently, memorizing them. 
“Aren’t you nosy.” You quip at him teasingly. He turns to look at you with a playful expression. “Well, I find you interesting.”
“Well not interesting enough,” you say, muttering to yourself. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” You say walking away from him to get your cousin. 
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Everything took off from there. One dinner turned into two, then three, and then more than you could count on two hands. It’s like their love came easy for them, and you could tell by the countless tabloids covering their every move. 
From Gojo’s ravenous yacht dates with your cousin, to endless shopping sprees. Everyday a new magazine feature was released to keep the public updated on their love story. But you didn’t need to read them to know how good they were to one another. You could tell by the way they’d gaze at each other, more on Gojo’s part. 
She’d come home countless times, with something new to share. Whether it was a new expensive necklace Gojo had bought her, or he took her overseas on a spontaneous trip. You sat there and took it. You were helpless, and all you could do was blindly support her. Encourage their relationship. 
And Gojo? He became unstoppable. It was impossible to believe how much better his life got—considering how great it already was. He was amazing on the court, and off the court (so you’ve heard). Your cousin got her wish granted. She could finally sit in the basketball wives section, sporting a new exclusive purse every game. She got the brand deals she always wanted, and a feature on a well known magazine. The paparazzi were so obsessed with them. Oftentimes photographing them on outings, whether it was an exclusive club, or a sweet night out together. 
Headlines often portrayed their relationship as anything short of wonderful. 
“PACKING IT IN: Gojo Satoru ushers his precious girlfriend into his Mercedes after spending an exhaustive day buying up boutique Manhattan.”
“LOOK OUT!: Gojo Satoru and girlfriend share a sweet kiss at a beach in Bora Bora.”
She got everything she ever wanted, and Gojo wasn’t an exception.
At first it felt like you were drowning. Like you couldn’t escape them, but then acceptance began to settle in.
You were aware of your brief interaction with Gojo. Though it felt like more than that, you realize maybe you’d jump the gun too fast. The way you both clicked that night, maybe you’d imagined his interest in you. Maybe you’d wish so badly for it that it twisted your reality of things. You’d wished to have swept him away the way your cousin did. It hurt to see the man you’d ever truly had a faint interest in slowly fall in love with your cousin. They were just so in love. At least, he thought he was.
But it didn’t matter anyway, it’s not like you knew the guy–beyond just a conversation that lasted hours. Vulnerability leaving you both bare to one another. Gojo wasn’t yours. And now he’ll never be. 
You weren’t bitter. No. On the contrary, at first you were upset—granted—, but then you were happy for her. How could you be bitter? You had your own thing going on. It was going to take far more than this to hurt you. Besides, you could just avoid Gojo Satoru, right?
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sweetbans29 · 5 months ago
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Teach Me: The Tragedy of Conflict (vi) - PB
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Pairing: Paige Bueackers x Reader
Previous Part & Next Part
Summary: You and Paige have been best friends for the last 6 years. You trust her completely. And it is because of that trust that you ask her a rather forward question. AKA - You ask Paige to teach you.
Warnings: suggestive, tiny pains, bigger pains
Word Count: 4.1k
Sweetbans Masterlist & Teach Me Masterlist
AN: You knew it was coming soon.
Over the next few weeks, Paige's internal battle continues to grow. If she thought she was struggling before, each growing day continues to add even more thoughts and doubts that she has when it comes to you. But that isn't the only thing growing, her craving for you has exponentially increased since the last lesson.
Paige thinks about how intimate the two of you were at the most inconvenient times. She pictures you lying on her bed, half naked when she is studying. Her mind replays the sounds you made when her lips were on your neck while she was conditioning in practice. She closes her eyes in class and sees your back arching and hears you saying her name over and over again and all she wants is more.
But the last few weeks have been dry. No lessons, no 'practicing' as you would like to call it, just Paige longing for any touch she could get from you. Even those felt scarce.
Paige is studying with Azzi when she feels like she is going to combust.
"I need something, anything. I have been itching for weeks now," Paige says. The same book has been turned to the same page for the entirety of their study session. Azzi on the other hand was making good progress on her paper.
"Paige. I have been telling you for weeks to tell her how you feel. You are the one who has chosen to ignore any and all of my advice." Azzi says.
"It is not that simple - we freaking live together. What if she doesn't feel the same? That is how many years of friendship thrown away?" Paige says in frustration. She is getting heated.
Azzi laughs.
"What could possibly be funny about this?" Paige says pushing Azzi's computer.
"It is that simple. Just tell the girl you love her and I am sure it will all work out." Azzi doesn't know how much more blunt she can be without flat-out saying that you love Paige. Azzi's suspicions were confirmed that night you walked out of the bar with tears rolling down your face.
"F-that, I will not be the one to talk first," Paige says fed up with the conversation she initiated. She begins packing up her things.
"Where are you going? You haven't even started your assignment." Azzi says as she watches her frantic friend.
"I am going home to change and then WE are going out," Paige says.
"Paige, I don't want to go out tonight," she says.
"Come on, drinks on me," Paige says trying to bribe her to come.
"Fine, drinks AND food on you," Azzi says as she saves her paper and starts to get ready.
The two of them go to Paige's favorite local spot and meet up with some other teammates. They are all having a blast - drinking a little (or a lot) more than they should be for a Tuesday night but no one cared. Practice the next day wasn't until the afternoon so they could sleep in and nurse their hangovers all morning.
It is just after midnight when Paige gets a call from you.
"Hey B, where-are you at a bar?" You say when you hear Paige pick up the phone with a lingering 'hello'.
"Indeed I am!" She yells. "You are the smartest," Paige says with a giggle.
"I am coming to get you," you say as you rummage around your room to find something to throw over your PJs.
"Okay, I will sit right here until you get here," Paige says as she sits on the stool of someone else's table. The people give her a questioning look. "Oops, maybe not there," Paige says moving. "I will sit right here until you get here," Paige says as she is sitting one seat over but still at the same table.
"Did you get that? I moved." Paige says making sure you know where she is at. It doesn't matter as none of what she is saying is adding up since you can't see her at all.
"Okay B, don't move," you tell her.
"Imma be a statue," Paige says as she thinks she is staying still as a pole but is actually swaying to the music.
You let out a little laugh, "I'll see you soon."
You hang up and find Paige's location on your Find My app. You head to the bar, parking right out front and leaving your hazards on. Walking in, you immediately regret the decision to throw on just an oversized sweatshirt of Paige's and wish you would have opted for some sweats as well.
As you make your way through the crowd - which is surprising for a Tuesday night, and find Azzi and Evina first.
"Have you guys seen Paige?" You ask looking around.
Evina shakes her head no. Azzi nods her head over to the little stage in the corner as Paige steps up to sing karaoke. You are also now shaking your head as you watch your best friend make a fool of herself. The more you think about it in the seconds before the song starts, you think it is better to have her upset with you rather than videos of her singing karaoke drunk in a bar circulating the internet.
You weave your way to the stage and grab her arm, removing the mic from her hand. She yells your name in excitement until she sees you are taking her away from the spotlight.
"Let's get you home B," you say as try to get her off the stage.
"No, I wanna singggg," Paige whines.
"You can sing in the car, let's go." You pull her off the stage then wrap an arm around her waist to steady her. "Trust me, you will thank me later."
Paige lets you guide her out of the crowd, her arm now around your shoulder as she waves to her other teammates. You just shake your head and laugh as the girls follow the two of you.
Once you get back to your car, three girls pile in the back as you stick Paige in the passenger seat. You drive them back to your apartment building and begin to part ways.
"Thank you for coming to get us," Evina says with a hiccup.
"Always," you say as you wave goodbye to them.
Paige is asleep and you know once drunk Paige is asleep, she is not the easiest to get to do things.
"B, wake up. We need to go inside," you say shaking her arm. She brushes you off and turns the other way.
"B. I want to go to bed, can you please get moving." You beg the girl who makes no movement to move from your car.
Finally, you get tired enough to grab her arm and pull her out of the car. Her eyes only open a little as she now has to hold her own weight Her arms come to wrap around you, hugging you and nestling her head into the crook of your neck.
"Hi B," you say as you rub her back with one hand and close the door with the other, making sure to lock your car in the process.
"Smell like heaven, favorite smell," she says as her breath tickles your neck.
"Thanks B," you chuckle as you try to shift her to one side of you so you can walk the two of you up to your apartment. Her head stays hidden in your neck as she is now sidestepping with you as you lead her home.
Once the two of you are in your apartment you take her to her room.
"No," she says like a little kid.
"B, you are the one who was just about to sleep in my car." You say.
"Want yours," she says with a pout.
You roll your eyes. At this point you let her go and she puts her hand out to steady herself on the wall. You walk away from her and remove her sweatshirt. When you do, your shirt rides up giving Paige the perfect view of your bare back before you pull it down and walk into your room.
Paige instantly follows you into your room and plops down on your bed - her mind tells her she wants you but her body is exhausted.
She rolls over as you come to her. You start by taking her shoes off and placing them on the ground. She then lifts her arms.
"Flip over," you tell her as she rolls back over so she is lying face down on your bed. You pull at the sleeves of her jacket and remove it. She is left in her pants and tank top. Good enough, you tell yourself as you go to turn the light off.
When you finally lay down you feel Paige shift over to you. Her arm comes to hang around your waist.
You sigh.
Paige's head comes to find the crook of your neck again, her lips painfully close to the sweet spot on your neck.
Little to Paige's knowledge, she has been on your mind as much as you have been on hers.
You lean in just enough to have her lips meet your skin and you release the softest moan. Paige's hand grips your waist as she brings you closer to her, lips starting to move on your neck.
You savor her movements as she begins to pepper kisses up towards your lips.
Before her lips meet yours, you snap back into reality and remember she is not in her right mind.
"We shouldn't do this," you whisper. Paige's movements continue - not hearing what you said.
You place your hand on her cheek and bring her face up to yours. She leans in wanting to feel your lips on hers.
"You're drunk, B," you say. "You should go to sleep."
She looks into your eyes with what you believe to be love but tell yourself it is the alcohol.
She holds your gaze then kisses your nose and curls back up into your side.
The next day at practice Paige struggles and Geno is not having any of it. By the end of it, Paige looks like she has taken a beating. Everyone goes into the locker room to shower and head out but Paige stays back to go through more reps.
"B, you need rest." You say as you walk back out to see her working on her midrange jumper.
You know she isn't going to stop until she is content with her shot so you stand there watching her shot.
After about 10 minutes she finally takes a break.
"Adjust your thumb, it is going to lax when you release." You tell her.
She goes up for another shot, making the change you recommended. It goes beautifully into the basket. She shakes her head.
"I still don't know how you do it," she says a smile finally dawning her lips. "And why didn't you say that when Geno was drilling into me, huh?"
You laugh. "Because then you wouldn't learn to not drink in the middle of the week."
She looks at you with disbelief. She throws the ball at you and you catch it, dribbling it then shooting it.
Paige watches you in awe.
"Do it again," she says. You shake your head no, not really sure why you put it up in the first place.
"Please," she says as she brings you another ball, stands right in front of you, and places it in your hands. "Please."
You close your eyes and proceed to do a shootaround, Paige feeding you the ball. She watches you, eyes never leaving you. When you are finished you are slightly out of breath. You didn't miss a single one which even you found impressive.
Paige walks over to you.
"That was incredible - why did you ever stop?" She asks, not realizing what she is asking.
You sigh and sit on the ground. Patting the spot next to you. She sits across from you, wanting to see you.
"Before we met, I was set on going to UConn to play ball - there was no doubt in anyone who saw me play. They all knew I was going to play for the best," you say referring to Geno.
Paige bites back the joke she wants to make about how much you are hyping yourself up right now - she doesn't want to jeopardize your comfort in this moment.
"And no, I am not just bragging about myself - you can ask Coach yourself. He came to watch me play when I was in 7th grade, already counting down the days until I made my debut here." You say.
"That all changed when my mom left us on my 13th birthday. I woke up that morning excited for the day only to walk downstairs to see a single piece of luggage and my parents fighting. They kept yelling about me and what was going to be my future. She said she was tired of losing her daughter and that I cared more about basketball than I did about her. It was ironic because it was her and dad that taught me how to play. She was my mother and she believed I didn't love her and chose the sport over her. To be fair, I loved the sport more than I loved a lot of things, but never her. She cursed out my dad for ruining my life, saying things about how he was going to break me and I would never make it under his pressure. She didn't understand the relationship my dad and I have. I destroyed my parent's marriage and was the reason she left." You say and quickly wipe away the tears. Paige has scooted her way to you and has taken hold of one of your hands.
"I watched her walk out that day - what was meant to be the best birthday turned into the worst. I was sitting on the stairs as she walked out. She turned to look at me but didn't say a thing. She had said all she had to say. And she walked out."
"My game changed after that - had me in my head. I quit shortly after that. Quit playing that is, started learning the why behind all of it. Behind every play, every move, as many players as I could. I thought understanding the why behind the game would help me understand why my mom left. It didn't of course, but I was still just a kid you know? I didn't understand it fully - I still don't understand it fully."
"My dad saw me deep dive into learning the game from a different perspective and saw how I was excelling in learning the game faster than I learned how to play it. We both sort of just threw ourselves into it - neither of us knowing how to cope. It is how we connect with one another."
"I have started shooting again - but it still hurts. I don't know if there will ever be a time when I am shooting that I don't think back to that day. It is like a blessing and a curse. I feel free when I have a ball in my hand but am reminded of the cost. It clears my head but also opens old wounds."
Paige sits there and listens to every word you say. Out of the 5+ years of friendship, you have only ever mentioned your mom once. Paige remembers when you told her about your mom in the park but you never mentioned this. She feels tears well up in her own eyes.
Her hands come up to hold your face. You can't look her in the eyes so you just close them. She pulls you in and holds you.
She doesn't say anything - not that she would know what to say. All she knows how to do is hold you.
Once the sun begins to set and the gym begins to darken, the two of you head back home.
The team decided to hit the town that weekend after the game. You tag along, knowing you could use some fun. You stick to your classic while the team does a whole variety of different shots and drinks.
"Take a shot with us!" Evina yells as she orders another round.
"You know she doesn't, she likes her classic," Paige answers for you. You push past her, already feeling the effects of your first drink.
"No, I'll take one," you say, already shooting it back before Paige can stop you. She just watches you in surprise. You grab hers and throw it back.
"Ok, I think someone needs to slow down," Paige says and tries to grab your drink. You just box her out and tell her no.
"Let me have some fun B," you say. "I need a little fun."
Paige puts her hands up and lets you do what you want.
You make your way to the dance floor and start dancing with anyone and everyone. Paige watches you from a distance.
"Go dance with her," Azzi says as she comes up to Paige.
"Nah, she can have her fun," Paige responds and takes another sip.
Paige hates seeing others hands on your body but she isn't going to do anything to stop them. Rather she is going to find her own distraction.
By the early hours of the morning, Azzi can't find Paige anywhere and takes it upon herself to make sure you get home safely. When she takes you to your apartment, she realizes you don't have your key and is forced to take you to hers. You sleep on her couch.
You wake up to a major hangover, wanting nothing more than to be in your own bed. As you make your way out of your friend's apartment and stumble to your own, you come across the same realization that she had last night. You are keyless.
You knock hoping Paige is home. You are about to give up when you hear the ruffling of the lock.
When the door opens you are not met with your best friend, but some girl you believe is on the cheer squad.
You look at her with confusion and walk right past her. Even in your hungover state you know the first rule you and Paige had about the apartment was to not bring anyone back after a night out. All flings were to be done anywhere but there. You are quickly sobered up as you walk into Paige's room expecting to find her asleep in her bed but she is not. You walk back out into the living room - she's not on the couch.
"She's in her room," the girl says as she wraps herself in one of your sweatshirts. She probably thinks it's Paiges. Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. She points to your room.
You push the door open slightly to reveal a sleeping Paige, naked in your bed. Clothes scattered throughout the room.
You grab a few of your things, desperately trying not to look at her.
"I don't think she will want you to take her stuff," the girl says as sees you packing some things into a bag.
You ignore her and finish grabbing what you need.
"Hey! I was talking to you!" The girl says loud enough to cause Paige to stir.
"Babe, why are you yelling?" Paige's sleepy voice cuts through the air., as she turns in time to catch her eyes meet yours before walking out.
Paige begins to scramble to her feet, forgetting the fact that she is butt naked, and attempts to go after you but you slam the door and are long gone.
"Paigey, come back to bed," the girl says, already lying in your bed. She's ready for another round.
Paige tunes her out, as all she can think about is how royally she messed up.
Paige is pacing the apartment trying to figure out what happened the night before. She swore she and the cheerleader were heading back to her place. The thing is, Paige doesn't remember being that drunk. She can pretty much remember everything.
Paige sent the girl away after you had left, making sure to get your sweatshirt back from her before she did.
Paige knows she messed up - you guys really only had the one rule and she had broken that. Not only that but she has brought another girl back to your room. What the hell was she thinking?
She tried calling you multiple times but it went straight to voicemail. She then tries calling all of her teammates to see if you went to any of them - only two of them answered.
"Don't worry P, she's probably just sleeping off the hangover from last night - she was super wasted." That was the only real response she got.
Paige decides to go to Azzi's to see if she has seen you. Azzi peaks her head through the door. Once she sees it's Paige, she steps outside and closes the door.
"Azzi - I know she is in there, let me see her," Paige says.
"Paige, I don't think that is the best idea," Azzi's voice is soft.
She tries to go by her but Azzi grabs her arms and looks in her eyes.
"Just give her some time, okay?"
"I don't know what happened," Paige says in defeat.
"I know P, I've got her. Just go get some rest okay?" Azzi says.
You don't go to the apartment for the next few days. You avoid going to any place Paige might be - that includes staying away from the team. The first time you see her is at practice on Tuesday, seeing that you weren't there on Monday.
The team is in the gym and Paige is anxiously waiting to see if you will be there. When you walk in alongside Geno and the other assistant coaches she is relieved but also now extremely nervous.
You don't give her any attention throughout practice. Paige even tries altering her shot to get you to come over to tell her how to fix it but you never do. All she gets is Geno yelling at her to focus or he will make her do suicides.
At the end of practice, you slip out before the girls leave the locker. Little to your knowledge, Paige never went in and was waiting in the parking lot for you.
She calls your name. You hesitate but keep walking. She runs to you and grabs your arm.
"Don't touch me," you say pulling it away.
Paige is taken aback, losing her words.
You look at her waiting for her to say something, anything really. When she doesn't, you speak.
"Okay if you won't talk, I will. I told you the darkest part of me - a part of me that less than a handful of people know. I opened up to you because I love you. I love you, Paige. I thought you felt the same, I thought I saw it in your eyes but then coming home the other day and seeing you brought another girl home. There was a fire that burned within my veins that fizzled out leaving nothing but disappointment. It wasn't that you slept with another girl because that wasn't the issue. The issue was that we have one rule. One rule. Not relating to our lessons but to our home. Our one rule, thrown out the window. See it might have been different if I walked in and you weren't in MY bed. But that is the only thing I can see in my head Paige - what the two of you were doing in my safe space."
Paige wants to say something but nothing comes out.
You sigh. You feel defeated.
"I don't know what to say B, I don't have the energy to fight with you." You look at her for the first time in days - your eyes are tired. "I forgive you. But I need to make myself clear when I say I need space."
Paige wants to argue, tell you how big of a mistake she has made and how much she regrets it. She wants to tell you she loves you and has for years now. She wants to tell you she isn't going to leave you. That the girl meant nothing and all the girls over the years have been a distraction for her - a distraction to get you off her mind. But none of that comes out.
You nod and get in your car and drive away.
Paige watches you leave. She doesn't know what to feel more, the peace of knowing you love her or the pain in knowing you are so much better than she is. She doesn't deserve you - that is the thought that clings to her.
She doesn't deserve you but needs you to survive.
AN: It almost feels worse when forgiveness is given instead of asked for. Let me know what you think. And as always, thank you for all your love and support 💙
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vbecker10 · 4 months ago
Text
Language (Part 5)
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 6
Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)
Summary: Captain Rogers thinks you curse far too much at work so he came up with a way for each word to cost you fifty cents no matter where you are in the Tower. You are desperate for it to stop and go to Loki to see if he has a spell or trick that can help you outsmart J.A.R.V.I.S.
Warnings: swearing lol... obviously?
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You groan and open your eyes to the sound of your phone alarm. The sun has just started to rise, but you need to go home and get ready for work.
"Please turn that off," Loki mumbles against your back.
"I'm sorry," you whisper and let go of his hand, freeing yourself from his embrace. You turn off your alarm and sit up, yawning.
"It's too early," he says, still half asleep. Eyes closed, his hand finds your waist and he gently pulls you back towards his body.
"I have to go home," you tell him but make you no attempt to pull away again.
"No," he says simply, his arm holding you in place.
"No?" you giggle at his unwillingness to let go of you. "I need to shower and get changed. I'm still wearing my clothes from yesterday."
"I have a fully functioning shower," Loki mumbles and you can hear the sarcasm in his voice despite him being so close to falling asleep. His legs intertwine with your legs and his hand holds yours as you both easily settle into the comfortable position he held you in all night. The God of Mischief adds, "And I am perfectly capable of conjuring clothing for you."
"I don't have a toothbrush or anything," you tell him, enjoying the feeling of Loki trying to keep you from leaving.
"Y/N, I can summon anything you need," he reminds you gently.
"I guess that's a good point," you say, having already made up your mind that you aren't going home before work.
"Please stay," he whispers close to your ear.
You smile and squeeze his hand, "Okay."
"Go back to sleep," Loki says softly and you nod, closing your eyes.
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You take a sip of your coffee as you sit on Loki's couch, your eyes follow him as he paces and talks excitedly. You can't help but smile at how confident he looks compared to last night.
"That might actually work," you say when Loki finished explaining his plan.
He chuckles and sits next to you, "Of course it will work. Why do you seem so surprised?"
"If I say it's because your other ideas didn't go so well, are you going to turn me into a frog?" you joke as he drinks his coffee
"You are utterly obsessed with the idea of being turned into a frog," he rolls his eyes but his smile remains.
"No, I'm concerned that it's a very real possibility," you explain. "I've never been friends with anyone who could do that."
"Ah, I see you are assuming we are friends now," he says a bit sarcastically.
"We're not?" you ask him, unsure what you and Loki are to each other after last night.
"Do you want to be friends?" he wonders, setting his mug on the coffee table.
"What are my other options? " you shrug, hoping he will give you some hint as to what answer he is looking for.
Before he can respond, there is a loud knock on his door. He sighs deeply and rubs his temples then looks at you, "That will be Thor." He notices the confused look on your face and smiles, "There are only two people who have ever bothered me when I am in my apartment and one of them is already in here."
You giggle nervously, "That's fair. Guess the plan starts now?"
He smirks and nods, "Are you ready? I promise I won't turn you into a frog."
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Steve and Natasha sit at the far end of the table reviewing the agenda for the morning briefing. Tony, Bruce and Clint stand near the window placing bets on how much money you will be fined today for your swearing. The discussions are suddenly silenced when Thor slams open the door to the conference room. Everyone quickly turns to face him in surprise.
"Woah! Calm down point break, no need to break down the door. There are plenty of donuts for everyone," Tony gestures to the box on the table.
"I don't think that's the issue," Bruce says when Thor takes a step to the side to reveal that Loki and you are behind him. You look down at the ground and fidget with your fingers while Loki glares at his brother.
"What's going on?" Steve asks, standing with his hands resting on the table.
"Thor is overreacting to a simple deal I have made with Y/N," Loki says calmly and you nod.
"She made a deal with you?" Tony asks. "What, was the devil busy?"
"That almost hurt Stark," Loki smirks.
"What did you do to her?" Clint asks, obviously very concerned for your wellbeing.
"Y/N came to me last night after the Captain enforced his new policy regarding her swearing," he explains.
"Seriously Y/N, you thought Loki would help you?" Clint asks you.
You nod.
"I did help her," Loki answers for you. "There is no need for this concern you all share. Y/N is fine."
"Why doesn't she tell us she's fine herself?" Natasha crosses her arms over her chest.
Loki looks at you then back at the team as they gather closer around you both, "She cannot."
"Why not?" Natasha uncrosses her arms slowly and looks at you with growing concern.
Thor answers before Loki can, "He took her voice."
"What?!" Clint, Tony and Steve all shout at once.
Loki smiles, "Don't worry, I'm keeping it somewhere safe." He holds out his hand and a small glass vial appears, a light gray cloud swirls around inside of it. The God of Mischief places it on the conference table in front of you as you rub your throat slowly.
"Absolutely not! Give Y/N her voice back, Ursula," Tony orders.
"How dare you. I am not some common sea witch," Loki glares at him, clearly offended.
"You understood that reference?" Steve asks.
"I read," Loki rolls his eyes. "Besides, I cannot do that. We made a deal, Y/N and I made a perfectly reasonable trade."
"What could you possibly trade for your voice?" Clint asks you but you can only shrug in response.
"That is between Y/N and myself," Loki answers for you.
"I can't believe this is happening," Bruce takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose.
Loki sighs, "There is no need to worry. If Y/N asks, I will be more than happy to reverse the deal."
"How is she supposed to ask? You took her damn voice," Natasha points out.
"She can write," Loki says as if the answer was obvious.
You smile at everyone and give them two thumbs up as enthusiastically as you can.
"You must certainly are not fine," Steve insists. "I can't believe you would do this to get around J.A.R.V.I.S."
"This has gone on long enough," Thor says as he takes a few steps forward and picks up the glass vial.
"Be careful with that brother," Loki warns him and takes a step forward. You shake your head and bite your lip nervously. "This is not like the magic of Stark's fairy tale. If you break that, Y/N's voice will not be released to her, it will simply cease to exist."
"You have got to be kidding me," Tony says, rubbing his temples.
"Give it back to me," Loki says sternly, holding his hand out towards Thor.
"Don't mess with that big guy," Bruce says, his eyes on the vial in Thor's hand.
You watch anxiously when Thor pulls away from his younger brother. "Remove the spell from Y/N," the God of Thunder demands.
"To do that I will need the vial," Loki counters and takes another step forward, closing the distance between them. Loki reaches for it but Thor pulls his hand away, holding it just out of reach.
If you weren't so concerned about the safety of the vial, you might be able to appreciate how much they simply look like bickering brothers and not two Gods arguing over your voice.
Tony steps in, "Thor, give it back to the sea witch."
Loki glares at Tony, "I do not have the patience for you today tin man."
He looks back at Thor and without a word, he flicks his wrist, sending his seidr towards his brother. The green cloud surrounds his hand in an attempt to pull the vial free but Thor clenches his hand and pulls violently against Loki's magic.
"Stop!" Natasha yells.
Your eyes go wide and you cover your mouth with both hands as the vial slips free from Thor's grasp. Loki's seidr doesn't react fast enough and the small glass vial falls to the floor at the older Asgardian's feet, shattering into pieces.
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