#if you got this far thank you for reading here’s a heart for u <3
Text
summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.
idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k
content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺
> in which masterlist!
note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺
—
jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.
tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.
and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.
you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.
you’re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.
“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”
jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.
“____, baby!”
upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.
“jungkook!”
you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.
“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.
“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”
the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.
he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?
“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”
“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”
he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.
“yeah, of course i am,”
jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.
“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”
he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”
“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”
“oh, okay. have a nice night!”
“you too,”
he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.
his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.
is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.
he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.
“who was that?”
“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”
he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.
what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.
“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.
an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.
“makes me nervous,”
his dominant hand closes into a fist.
if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.
“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”
you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.
out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.
“i missed you!”
“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.
“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”
—
“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.
“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”
“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”
the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.
unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.
you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.
“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”
“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”
something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.
“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.
he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.
as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.
you mistake his silence for something else.
you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”
he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”
you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.
he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.
isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.
three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.
he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.
and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.
much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.
jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.
maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.
“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”
you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.
what the fuck. too bright.
“me too…”
—
“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.
his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.
“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”
“whatever i want?”
he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.
“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”
he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.
“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.
“i thought you already had something in mind?”
“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.
you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.
jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”
“i’m okay,”
“you sure?”
“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.
he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.
the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.
he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.
be careful of what you wish for, they said.
jungkook should know better by now.
“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.
he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.
you’re so pretty. everywhere.
even when naked and bare.
no, especially. it’s all he can think about.
he can draw you from memory.
“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.
the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.
“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”
your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.
a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.
“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”
his warning is cut short by-
“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.
okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.
you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.
and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.
“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”
he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.
while he’s driving? really?
doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?
you are not real.
“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”
he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.
“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”
wrong move.
the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.
jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.
also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.
you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.
“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”
“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”
“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”
“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”
“what do you mean?” you exclaim.
you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.
“jungkook, i hate you!”
“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”
“and there’s not one in your wallet?”
“babe, are you serious?!”
“what?!”
somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.
but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.
“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.
he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”
“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”
“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”
“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”
the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.
he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.
“baby, stop being stu-”
he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.
“…bborn…”
he blinks.
he inhales. he exhales.
and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.
“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”
—
jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.
his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.
there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.
except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.
he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.
“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”
“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”
his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.
you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.
he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you… you didn’t have money?”
you shake your head to answer his question.
“then how are you already eating?”
you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.
“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”
“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.
he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.
you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.
“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”
you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”
“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”
he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you’ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.
“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.
“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”
the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.
—
you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.
“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”
“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”
his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.
“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”
“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”
“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.
“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”
“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”
he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.
“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”
you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”
“you promise me?”
“i promise!”
he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”
“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.
comfortable silence follows suit.
the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.
he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.
“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”
“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”
“just trust me, alright?”
you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.
“can i make a guess?”
“nope!”
you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.
“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”
—
you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.
jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.
“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”
“i’m planning on it.”
his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.
he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”
“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”
“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.
a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.
“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”
“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”
oh my fucking god.
he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.
“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”
“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”
your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.
“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”
“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”
“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”
his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.
“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”
jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.
you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.
how did he get so lucky?
rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.
you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.
“what are we doing here?”
jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”
—
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
—
#jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook drabble#jungkook one shot#jungkook scenario#jungkook imagine#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts fluff#bts reaction#bts imagine#bts fanfic
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
horses are still overrated
pairing jeong yunho x f!reader
word count 2k
genres fluff﹒smut
warnings 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, established relationship, mentions of voyeurism, dirty talk, marking-ish, mutual masturbation, kissing, slight cum eating shhhhh don’t say anything, pet names: baby, babe, princess
summary new relationships always have room for experimenting, and well, you and yunho are no exception.
more ok so i tried doing these in ask format but i didn’t like it so we’re back to our regularly scheduled programming with a little update :P anyway,, this was for this request! it’s meant to be an extension of save a horse, ride a cowboy but can totally be read as a standalone! i kinda strayed from the initial req, but i hope this is still good… it’s still yunho day so <3 ALSO @bro-atz thank u for betaing my love i appreciate u so big!! pls reblog if u enjoyed!
@atzhouse
The few weeks that have passed since you and Yunho have confessed to each other have been nothing short of blissful.
He makes you feel like you’re soaring, ensuring that your happiness is the top priority. He embraces you in a way that’s not only physical, but emotional too. Like his feelings for you are their own special hug of warmth that envelopes you when you need it most. You could never get tired of him, could never return to your life back home like this summer never happened.
Because in all honesty, this summer was the best thing that could’ve ever happened to you.
You have a small smile on your face as you reminisce about the wonderful time you’ve spent here so far, leaning back into the bench on the farmhouse porch. Initially, you were sitting here to openly gawk after Yunho as he rounded up the cattle, but now you were too giddy to pay attention to that. You don’t notice him walking towards you directly, Yeoreum tailing behind him.
“What’s got you so cheesy today?”
You blink at his question, feeling a bit bashful. You’ll never get used to this view. “I was just thinking about us, and how happy you make me.”
“That’s cute,” he mirrors your expression, one hand on the back of the bench to hold his weight and the other coming up to cup your jaw, lips pecking yours gently. “Ready for dinner?”
“I have a confession to make,” you start as you’re washing the dishes after dinner.
“What’s up?” Yunho asks you from the other side of the kitchen, putting away the leftovers. He shuts the refrigerator and leans against it, arms crossed over his chest. You swallow thickly.
“I’ve just had this on my chest for so long and I need to get it off before I explode,” you ramble, avoiding his eyes as you scrub a plate. “Promise you won’t judge?”
“I promise,” he chuckles, and you can hear his footsteps as he gets closer. “I won’t judge you.”
Your sigh comes out as more of a shudder, Yunho’s arms wrapping around your middle and his chin resting on your shoulder. The new proximity makes you ten times more nervous to say your piece, your heart beating erratically behind your rib cage. This is fine. This is great actually. (No it’s not!)
“Do— um— do you remember the day before Seojun and I broke up?” Your hands are trembling slightly.
“When you gave Yeoreum a bath, right?” He nods, the movement bothering you slightly because it has his chin digging into your shoulder uncomfortably. “What about it?”
”So…” You have to pause the dishes, your hands clamming up so much that you think the handle of your sponge will fly out of your grasp. “That night, when my lightbulb went out, I actually went out to go grab you. But— uh— I saw something… else… instead…”
Your eyes squeeze shut, entirely too mortified to even think about what his reaction could be. It’s been a minute since the ordeal played out, so really you didn’t have to say anything. Part of you felt like you couldn’t continue this relationship in good conscience without being totally honest, though.
Strong hands wrap gently around your wrists, turning you around to face him. He tsks, “Open your eyes, princess.”
His eyes are soft, no hint of disappointment or disgust on his features as he stares back at you. His lips curl into a smug smile after a couple seconds, cupping your jaw and caressing your cheek with his thumb. You blink at him, a little confused by the shift in atmosphere, but not complaining.
“You’re not—?”
“You watched me fuck my fist, is that right?” Yunho asks so bluntly, so vulgarly. “Tell me, what did you do after that?”
It’s easy to divert your gaze again, focusing on how interesting the material of his button up suddenly is. It’s one thing to admit that you stood there and watched for a bit, it’s another to admit you stuffed yourself with your own fingers not even fifteen minutes later. But you think he already knows that, based on your behavior and some good ol’ context clues.
“I… I touched myself,” you whimper, ashamed of how you’re getting turned on. The worst part is the fact that he’s enjoying this. He’s enjoying the way he has you folding for him so quickly. “To the thought of you…”
Yunho’s grip on your chin tightens and his eyes flutter shut with a groan. “Fuck, baby, that’s so hot…”
You weren’t sure how this would go, and a piece of you genuinely thought he might even end things with you. Any other person would think you were sick and perverted, but not him. It makes you feel a lot better and a lot more secure in your relationship.
Your tongue pokes out of the corner of your mouth, grazing the pad of his thumb. He hisses, cursing under his breath, letting you wrap your lips around and suck the finger. Yunho stares with not a single coherent thought behind his eyes. He’s losing his composure, pressing his thumb down on your tongue.
“Do you think you can tell me? How exactly did you touch yourself?” He purses his lips, his free hand slipping into the opening of your overalls, dragging his finger along the exposed skin of your waist. You shake your head with a whine.
”Yun… That’s embarrassing…”
He pulls his hand out of your overalls, hooking the digit into your belt loop and yanking you closer. His mouth is dangerously near your own, lips brushing yours when he speaks. “I wanna know. Need to picture my pretty princess fucking herself desperately ‘cause her fingers aren’t enough to get her off.”
Your legs feel like jelly, your cunt clenching around nothing just by his words alone. Yunho had always done such a good job at being the sweet and doting partner everyone wanted. He was attentive, praised you like you were a living, breathing goddess. But this dirty side of him is different. And you like it a lot more than you should.
“O-Okay…” You swallow thickly, and suddenly he’s spinning you so his chest is to your back. He urges you towards the bedroom, attaching his lips to your neck and sucking the supple skin gently, tenderly.
”Go on,” he says between kisses, still pushing you until you’re standing in the middle of his room. Your eyes already feel heavy and you haven’t done anything yet. “Tell me.”
”I— um— I thought about your hands and how big they are,” your tone is shaky, and you hope you don’t sound stupid. “Thought about how good it would feel to have them all over me. I pictured that it was your fingers inside of me. Imagined your cock, and how big it is.”
“Is that so? I’m just not getting the visual, babe. I think I need you to show me.” He hums, a hint of amusement in his voice. As if this couldn’t get more embarrassing, now he wants you to finger yourself in front of him? You’re about to protest, but he’s pressing your lower back to the mattress and talking against the corner of your mouth again, teasing you because he knows he can. “If you’re good for me, I’ll fuck you so well, you won’t be able to forget the shape of my cock.”
You nod with a whimper, hopping onto the bed and scooting all the way up to the pillows. Your hands are wobbly as you undress yourself, unbuckling your overalls and kicking them off your feet. Of course you chose the worst day to dress the part. Yunho sits at the edge, watching you with an unreadable expression.
When you’re in nothing but your top and panties, he clears his throat, leaning back onto his palms. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Move your underwear to the side for me, princess. Let me see your pretty pussy.”
It’s almost impossible to hold back a moan, following his instructions. You glide your middle finger through your folds, showcasing how you’re practically dripping for him in the amount of time it’s taken you to get from the kitchen to here. He exhales through his nose, legs spreading to give you a glimpse of an uncomfortable looking bulge in his pants.
You sigh deeply at the sight, circling your finger around your clit slowly. The thought of being the cause behind it, of getting Yunho so hot and bothered, drives you crazy and has you curling your toes.
“Just like that,” he encourages, tossing his denim button up to the floor. He palms over his erection, tilting his head slightly. “Can you do some more for me?”
“Mhm,” is all you can manage to force out, doing what he asked. You shove your ring and middle fingers inside of yourself, finally releasing a moan at the intrusion. You keep pressure on your clit with the heel of your palm. There’s silence between you save for the occasional whine.
Yunho shivers, shimmying out of his pants so he can stroke himself freely. You gawk at him with bated breath, biting your lip as your fingers pick up their pace. There’s a knot that settles in the pit of your stomach, tightening and tightening in preparation for that special moment.
The view of him spread out in front of you, fucking up into his hand with hooded eyes trained on your own playing with your cunt, is too much. He’s wearing that same godforsaken white tank top as he was the night you saw him, the muscles in his forearm and bicep flexing with each twist of his wrist, each pump of his cock.
You feel like you’re drooling, ogling at him like he was a piece of meat. But you couldn’t help it. Yunho was the most attractive man you’d ever laid eyes on. The longer you stare, the further you fall. That’s a conclusion you’ve come to a little too late.
“‘M close, Yun,” you moan, arching your back off of the pillows, head almost clunking against the headboard. “Wanna cum with you.”
“I’m almost there, too, baby,” he grunts, teeth gritted as he runs his thumb over his slit. That has a loud whine spilling from your lips, your feet digging into the mattress. You don’t know how much longer you can last.
Your fingers try to reach that spongy, sensitive spot deep in your cunt, but you can’t. It seems that only Yunho’s long, thick fingers could accomplish that feat. No wonder you were so obsessed with his hands.
You opt for using the fingers of your free hand to swipe quickly at your clit while the others curl and thrust into you, inching you toward that steep cliff that has stars decorating your vision. Judging by the volume of his sounds getting higher and higher, you can tell Yunho’s right there with you.
One particular absentminded curse from him has your brain short circuiting, that promise of release washing over you almost violently. Your body aches and quivers, orgasming harder than you ever had just with your own hand. (You’d like to think the presence of a certain cowboy had everything to do with it.)
He groans and follows behind shortly after, painting his hand in milky white. The two of you try to catch your breaths, laying there for a couple moments to recuperate. After a while, Yunho leans over to kiss you gently, squeezing your cheeks with his cum covered hand. You scrunch your nose.
“You’re getting it on my face!”
“That was the goal,” he laughs, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips. You roll your eyes, licking away whatever was near your mouth. He groans again. “Fuck, are you trying to kill me? Purposely?”
“Maybe,” you shrug. “I remember being told you’d fuck me if I did good for you. Where’s my reward?”
“Trust me, I didn’t forget.”
© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
#atzhouse#ateez#ateez x reader#ateez smut#ateez jeong yunho#ateez yunho#ateez yunho x reader#ateez yunho smut#jeong yunho x reader#jeong yunho smut#yunho x reader#yunho smut#yunhoszn#📮 — reqs
795 notes
·
View notes
Text
R U MINE? feat gojo satoru (II)
gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it.
that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…
“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”
IMPORTANT: this is part TWO (and the final part) of the r u mine? mini series. make sure to read part one of this fic before proceeding! :)
content: 5.4k words, afab!reader, rich college frat boy gojo, SMUT (fingering & unprotected sex.. wrap it before u tap it kids!) ANGST, (i listened to deftones while writing the breakup era LMAOO i was in my feels 😔) gojo "everything reminds me of her" satoru is really going thru it, idk how to feel about the ending tbh, cheating implications, kinda proofread ig, more emo gojo (u luv to see it)
author's note: guys. where do i even start?? first of all, thank u for all the support on the first part of this mini series!! we also hit 100 followers on this blog so tysm for supporting me n my writing <3 here's the long awaited part two (n also the finale) as i promised that i would get it out over the weekend! just a quick announcement that i may be a little bit more inactive from here on out.. mainly because classes r starting again nd im starting to get busier. i do have more fic plans though, (and a geto smut in my drafts? 👀) so i'll make time to write when i can! happy reading and thank u for all the support on this silly little series :)
tags: @soley613 @feariteriu @bear-likes-mushrooms @96jnie @keilaq1 @whydohumansss @luftyluft @fatbootymuncher (bold = i'm unable to tag u)
reblog and interact for a kiss ;)
everything’s been hazy.
you don’t really remember how you got home– you either waved down a cab or walked until you somehow found your house. either way, the alcohol is worsening the pounding in your ears. the straps of your dress are clinging terribly against your skin–you want to take it off, you want to wear something more comfortable, you want to just go to sleep, preferably forever… but you can’t bring yourself to.
you can’t even bring yourself to move.
so the rumors really were true? but why did gojo pursue so far just for you? why did gojo say those words to you when you spent the night together? why did gojo try so hard to convince you that night that he wanted to have sex with you because he loved you–and not solely because he wanted to have sex?
why did gojo lie to you?
another series of pings sound throughout the room, and you finally move to silence your phone. the noise is all so overwhelming. why the hell is your phone blowing up?
you check your notifications–mostly dms from people you don’t know, either asking if you and satoru were dating, or questioning you about what the hell happened at the party. you know that you’re gonna be the subject of gossip once you’re back at campus, and you hate it.
you were surprised at the numbers once you scrolled down your notification list a little further. ten missed calls from satoru, accompanied by a series of fifteen panicked messages. you open it, and you stare sadly at his contact photo and name, remembering the fond memory behind it. once you two actually started dating, you were merciful enough to add a heart next to his name, and even updated it to “toru”. he was elated at that.
you think you can barely even call him gojo now.
the most recent message was barely sent a minute ago. like it was on cue, you see the bright headlights pull up outside of your door. you wanted to sink into your couch and never resurface ever again.
you hear suguru’s car door open and close, and then frantic knocking outside. you walk to the door while sniffling, looking through the peephole just to confirm your suspicions. it was satoru.
“i can hear you crying through the door, y/n. i know you’re there.” he takes a deep inhale, and the tears start rolling down your cheeks again once you hear the complete and utter vulnerability in his voice. you just don’t know what to believe anymore. “shit, i’m crying too. well, i’m gonna explain myself even if you don’t care enough to listen to me. uhm, believe it or not, what happened at the party wasn’t my doing… at all. when you went to use the bathroom, this girl went up to me and started flirting with me, like she was waiting for you to leave or somethin’. i was g’na tell her to go fuck off but she pushed herself on my lap and before i could do anything about it you walked in and it was just all horrible timing and- god. i know it sounds unbelievable, right? you must think i’m terrible right now.”
“you don’t have to believe me. if i were in your shoes i wouldn’t know what to think either. i’m just… explaining what happened.”
there’s a long period of silence between you and satoru, aside from the occasional sniffling on both ends. you don’t know what to say. you want to believe him. you want to do nothing more than to open the door and let him hold you in his arms again, but you just don’t know what to think anymore. you poured your entire heart out to a man who you knew you shouldn’t be messing with, and now you don’t know who or what to believe. you feel like a fool, and you’re just tired. so damn tired. the silence feels asphyxiating, like it's tearing your relationship with satoru further and further apart the longer it draws on.
satoru is the first one to break the silence. “i’m guessing from the silent treatment that you don’t believe me. it’s okay, y/n. i’ll wait an eternity for you to forgive me because i’ll always choose you- fuck… over anything, and i hope you know that.”
your mind is a mess, and satoru’s words make it even messier.
i’ll wait an eternity for you
i’ll always choose you over anything
you put your head in your hands and sob. it hurts.
a minute passes–gojo hears you get up from where you’re sitting behind the door, and his heart fills with hope.
“i just… i just don’t know how to believe you, gojo.”
his heart breaks when he hears the door–presumably to your bedroom–open and close, leaving him alone with his shattered heart. his heart breaks when he takes in your voice, noticing how weak and exhausted you sounded. he wonders how much you’ve cried just from this past hour alone. his heart breaks once he realizes that he’s alone with his thoughts again, alone with the voice in his head that was berating him for not being able to prevent all of this if he hadn’t frozen up and just pushed her away the second that girl started flirting with him. finally, his heart breaks once it registers that you called him gojo–the last name that he shares with his corrupt and money-crazy family… the family he tries so hard to get away from. it was also the name you called him during the days that you barely trusted him.
now, he’s back to square one, and he has none of your trust again. this time, satoru swears that he’ll do anything in his power to get it back once more.
you didn’t come to school today.
there’s been nothing but radio silence on your end. gojo has sent you countless messages over the weekend asking how you’ve been, with the occasional desperate voicemail where he tells you that he loves and misses you. you’ve turned off your read receipts, so gojo doesn’t even know if you’ve seen his texts or listened to his voicemails. he’s concerned for you, even though he knows that he’s the reason behind all of this. he was hoping to talk things out with you today.. but you weren’t even here.
one thing gojo knew about you is that you cared deeply about your academics, and you wouldn’t miss attendance even if you were sick. it pains him to know that he was the reason that you weren’t here today. you were avoiding him, and he felt helpless.
he’s talked to geto—and the best advice that his best friend could offer was to “find proof that you didn’t cheat on her.” he’s right, though. the last thing you had said to gojo was that you don’t know how to believe if he’s telling the truth or not. gojo has absolutely no idea how to prove his fidelity to you, since words clearly weren’t enough. it frustrates him to no end.
gojo now knows that he feels absolutely lost. all when he’s not with you.
it feels nerve-wracking to walk the halls.
he remembers telling you the night that you slept together that he’d learned over time to drown out the rumors about him. he learned not to care about what other people thought about him, and he eventually became unaffected by the school’s gossip.
however, this time was different.
this time, he finds it difficult to drown out the rumors when he hears your name in them. he flinches every time someone whispers your name and his as he walks the halls, feeling that all eyes are on him. “i heard y/n and gojo broke up…” “they were dating?!” “yeah.. i didn’t believe it at first, either! apparently he…”
he doesn’t want to hear it, so he walks a little faster. it hasn’t felt this suffocating to be on campus in a while.
maybe that’s partially why you didn’t show up. rumors are hard to ignore if you don’t know how to shun them out.
gojo lets out a sigh. he decides that he’s going to ditch the rest of class. you weren’t here, he couldn’t talk to you, and he felt he was gonna go mad if he heard your name spoken by someone again, so he turns to leave, but flinches as he feels a hand lightly tap his shoulder.
“gojo-san?”
he turns around, with a girl that he’s never seen before standing in front of him… not that he pays attention to them in the first place, though. he raises his eyebrow in question, and the girl looks so nervous she might pass out. “i have to tell you something-“
“if it’s a love confession or whatever, i don’t want to hear it-“
“-no!” she flushes a deep shade of red, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes. she coughs awkwardly at his expression. “um, no.. it’s not that. please, just give me two minutes in the library. i have something to tell you.”
he decides to entertain this girl for a bit. he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t curious about what she had to talk to him for. gojo sighs and says, “two minutes. that’s all you’re getting.”
“this is about the party last friday, no?” he says while taking a seat near one of the tables. he feels sick just being here. he’d never gone to the library before meeting you–as he had no reason to go here at all. then, he started accompanying you everywhere as he tried to win your heart. “study dates” were frequent here, and he even remembers forcefully changing his contact name and number on your phone during one of your dates.
gosh, everything literally reminds him of you. he can barely live like this.
she takes a seat across from him, and she shamefully nods at his words. “i went to the party on friday, and i just want to say i’m sorry-”
gojo gets up to leave. he can’t do this. he doesn’t need anyone’s pity. pity can’t change the fact that you still won’t talk to him. she panics as gojo is about to walk away. “wait!”
the librarian tells her to quiet down, and she mutters an apology. still, she persists. “please, just wait for two minutes… i need two minutes to explain myself. you promised you’d give me that.”
she stares at gojo, who hasn’t left yet, and takes that as her opportunity to speak. “i was a friend of… her,” he doesn’t need an explanation to know who she was talking about. “the reason why she came up to you was because of a dare i told her to do. she’s had a crush on you for a while now, so of course she was willing to flirt with you.”
“um, that was the dare, by the way. my friend told me to record it, because we were all drunk, and we thought it would be funny. just another memory to laugh at in the future, right? we didn’t know you were dating the girl you were with at the party. sorry but, we assumed she was just a fling… or something… we didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”
“yeah, i was dating the girl at the party.” gojo scoffs, and he feels his anger bubbling up again. “then your friend had to do that stupid dare, and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.”
“i’m sorry-”
“i don’t need your apologies. is that why you came up to me? to apologize so you don’t feel guilty about what happened anymore?” gojo sneers. he was right, though. guilt is ridden all over her face, and she can’t even meet his eyes. he’s about to leave, thinking that this entire conversation was useless, but gojo thinks back on what she said earlier.
“...my friend told me to record it…”
he turns back to look at her, which surprises her, to say the least. “hey, you said you recorded the dare, right?”
“uhm, yes.”
“so you still have the video?”
“it should be in my camera roll somewhere-”
“if you came here to apologize to me, then you should send me that video.” she looked a little horrified at his words, and gojo could almost laugh. “what? i’m not gonna do anything bad with it, god.”
she thinks about what gojo’s intentions could be with that video, and her eyes light up in recognition as she connects the dots from what he said beforehand. i was dating the girl at the party… then your friend had to do that stupid dare… and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.
she nods in understanding. this is the least she could do for him. she pulls out her phone, looking for the video, and says, “i hope you two make up soon, gojo-san.”
gojo satoru walks- no, runs out of that library with determination. determination as he finally has the video evidence of what happened at the party–his saving grace so he could finally get you to forgive him.
you miss him.
you miss him like hell, actually, and you blink at the messages he just sent you in complete disbelief.
you didn’t show up to class today because you were afraid. you were afraid to see satoru again, yes, but you were also afraid of what everyone else would say about you. the party was one thing, but the after-effects and the rumors were something completely different. you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that, unlike satoru, so you stayed home. all because you were afraid of what would happen on campus.
you just wish things would go back to how they were before… all of this happened. you didn’t want to admit it, but you’ve read all of satoru’s messages, and you’ve listened to all of his voicemails. you’ve cried to them. and it hurts because you’re still torn apart in the midst of your own feelings. and now, satoru wants to talk to you, because he’s been wanting to do nothing but fix everything between the two of you.
the doorbell rings, and you almost jump out of your skin.
you didn’t even know if you would open the door or not. despite that, you felt your body moving on its own, like you were relying on your own instincts. you washed your face to get rid of the dried tears on your cheeks, brushed the tangles out of your hair, and dressed into something more presentable. the next thing you know, you’re leaning against the wall next to the front entrance. your shadow is visible underneath the door, so satoru knows that you’re here.
“hi, y/n..” he sounded so nervous that you almost laughed, but you felt equally as terrified as him. “i have something to show you… uh, on my phone. if you don’t want to see me, it’s fine, i’ll just send it to you, but i’d really prefer if you open the door and we’ll talk about this inside-”
your hand is already reaching the door knob before you can even think about it. it’s such an impulse decision that you look at him in surprise once you open the door. it’s the first time you’ve seen him ever since you were at the party. it’s only been three days, but you can’t help but notice how his eyebags are more prominent, his eyes are a little redder, and he looks nothing short of exhausted.
“hey,” he manages to breathe out, his eyes meeting yours. “can i come in? please?”
you nod, too stunned to say anything, and he exhales in relief as he walks in. the two of you sit on the couch, and gojo notices how you’re keeping your distance from him. it breaks his heart a little.
he looks for the video on his phone and gets ready to show it to you. this is it. his last ditch effort for your forgiveness. he’s really fuckin’ hoping that this works. “i got this video from a girl who came to the party. it’s a recording of, um, what happened.”
he hands the phone over to you, and you take it skeptically, still choosing to keep silent. you press play, and you watch the recording. a shaky hand holds the camera, and the person behind it says, “holy shit, she’s actually doing it!” they're presumably talking to their friend, and the camera focuses on a girl walking over to gojo. your heart is pounding, eyes widening in recognition as you stare at her... the one who caused all of this in the first place.
the all too familiar girl comes up to him, saying something out of earshot. when gojo looks at her, completely uninterested, she pulls that move. the scene you saw at the party before you ran out. tears fill your eyes again, and you almost want to stop the video, but your interest is piqued at the next part.
..this… this part was something that you didn’t see. gojo angrily reacts at the girl’s move, with her falling on the floor as she looks at him, stunned at how furious he looks. the person behind the camera gasps, continuing to record out of shock as a crowd of people turn to stare at the two. geto eventually comes into the frame and takes gojo away from all the chaos. the video ends there, and you grip gojo’s phone shakily.
holy shit.
tears roll down your face, but this time, they’re tears of relief. you waste no time in hugging satoru, crying your heart out as you bury your face in his neck. you’re happy. you’re so fucking happy, and so relieved knowing that he didn’t lie to you. of course he didn’t.
“m’sorry-” you sniffle into his shoulder. gojo is so shocked at what was happening that it takes him a second to hug you back, but when he does, he starts crying. “m’so fucking sorry i didn’t believe you-”
“shh, it’s okay, it’s okay…” he says, and you only hug him tighter. “m’so tired, you know that? these past three days fucking sucked. i’m just so glad you’re in my arms again, fuck-”
“-i love you, i love you, i love you so fucking much, toru.” you repeat, laughing as you kiss him all over his face. it’s been a while since you said that to someone. you wipe his never-ending tears away, still in disbelief, and whisper, “you’re real. right? you’re actually here with me right now ‘nd i’m not dreaming, right?
“i’m very much real, baby.” he says, putting his forehead against yours as you take in his features again. “god, i missed that pretty face so much.”
he finally closes the gap between you two, pulling you into a much needed kiss. it’s a kiss filled with so many emotions–desperation, happiness, relief. satoru thinks his heart is finally whole again. he’s missed you. he’s missed you so fucking much, and you’ve missed him too.
you’re like an anchor to satoru. the light of his life that keeps him grounded. and god, he’s been apart from you for too long.
you reposition yourself as you’re deepening the kiss. you’re on his lap now, and you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging on his hair in desperation. “oh yeah? ‘y gonna do anything about it?"
“of course i am,” he says, hands roaming underneath your shirt as he caresses your bare waist. fuck. he needs you. right now. especially after thinking that he was about to lose you forever–for something that he didn’t even do. “i’m gonna show you just how much i missed you, baby.”
gojo can’t let you go.
you’re in your bedroom, and both of you waste no time undressing each other. he takes you in–all of you, in awe of every crevice of your body as he trails his hands further down your waist.
god, you’re so beautiful. “i can’t believe i almost lost you.”
his words are shaky, like he’s still uncertain that you’re real and you’re in his arms again. he can’t seem to break himself away from you, almost like you’ll disappear if he lets you go. “but i’m here now, toru.”
“i’m here to stay, and i’ll never let you go again… ‘m yours,” you whisper, and your words set a fire in him, fueling his body with nothing but desperation. desperation to have you right here, and right now.
he wastes no time in plunging two of his fingers in your cunt, and he groans at just how wet you are. “satoru-”
“fuck, you’re so wet… and it’s all for me,” he mutters, spreading your legs effortlessly when you try to close them, thighs shaking in pure pleasure. he adds another finger, and you already feel stretched to the brim, and you haven’t even taken him in yet. the thought of his cock inside of you makes you even wetter than you already are, and you look up at satoru with eyes full of lust and desire. “missed you so much, baby. missed you and your pretty little cunny,”
his fingers are long, and you whine at how full you feel right now. you’re so loud, and you don’t even care. right now, it’s just you and satoru finally feeling each other again. it’s only been three days, but it feels like you’ve been apart for years.
everything about this was filthy. from your erotic moans and the way your cunt squelched against his fingers… not to mention the vice grip you had on them- fuck, satoru thinks he can cum untouched just from watching you like this.
“haa-” you whimper when his fingers curl and hit that spot in your cunt that you can barely seem to reach on your own. it’s exhilarating, and only fuels the growing heat in your stomach. “toru- don’t stop- please, i’m close-”
“really?” he taunts, and it feels so fucking good–your head is numb, and the only thoughts filling your head are thoughts of satoru. the pleasure is too much, and you try to get away from him, but he keeps you in place, curling his fingers faster as punishment. “don’t run away from me, baby… be a good girl and just take it, yeah?”
“toru- fuck- i’m gonna cum, please-” you’re on the brink of release, but suddenly, he stops, ruining your orgasm. “no- wait-”
he pulls his fingers out, and you whine at the loss of stimulation. you were so close–why did he take that away from you? you try and swat at his hands, but he just takes his fingers and puts them in his mouth, locking his eyes with yours with a sly smile. “you taste so sweet, i can’t help it,”
“aww, is my baby mad ‘cause she didn’t get to cum?” he coos sarcastically, caging you in between his arms as he tilts your face up with his finger. “too bad… the only thing you’re cumming on tonight is on my cock.”
and with that, he eases his painfully hard member into your walls. your insides hugged him perfectly–it was like you were made just for him. you gasp once he’s fully sheathed himself inside of you. his fingers were already a lot to take in, but his cock was something completely different. he moans your name, barely keeping his cool. “fuck- you’re squeezing me so tight,”
“missed everything about you, baby. i need to hold you, please,” he pleads desperately, clasping your small hands against his. the size difference alone between the two of you almost makes him cum, but he holds himself back, choosing to bask in this intimate moment. he’s missed every part about this. “you ready f’me?-”
“-just fuck me, satoru, please-” he doesn’t need another confirmation from you.
he can’t bring himself to hold back. next thing you know, he’s fucking you into the mattress, and you feel the headboard shake at how fast satoru is going. fuck–you feel every part of him, every part of his cock as it slams against your tight hole. he’s so big, you feel yourself gasping for breath, and you moan out loud as you notice the prominent bulge forming in your stomach. it’s him, it’s all him, and it’s driving you mad.
satoru follows your eyes in the midst of all of this, and he watches everything in fascination. he decides to be a little mean, and presses his free hand against your stomach–it feels so good, you could almost scream at the pleasure. “you feel that, baby? that’s all me inside of you, hmm?”
“please-” the onset of pleasure feels so overwhelming, and tears fill your eyes. you feel an oncoming orgasm coming, and you know your release will hit you like a tidal wave. your heart is pounding, but satoru only grips your hand tighter and fucks you even harder. “oh, fuck!”
“m close, baby. are you g’na cum too?” he manages to say between pants, and you somehow nod, mind hazy and your release only coming closer. you feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “cum inside of me, toru- please- i need to feel you-”
gojo groans at your words, and you both cum together. you ride out your high, screaming as you spasm around his cock, the pleasure overfilling your senses until you’re trembling from it. he fills you up, staying inside of you as the two of you catch your breath. everything’s hazy, and you’re barely aware of your surroundings… it takes you a few minutes to recover.
“angel, are you with me?”
“yeah, fuck, just… give me a second.” you say, and gojo thinks that he would gladly give you all the time in the world if you needed it. he pulls out of you with a hiss, and his warm seed drips out of your cunny. it makes his cock twitch, but he knows that you’re probably not considering a round two right now.
when you come to your senses, you notice satoru–who put his clothes back on already, wiping your legs down with a rag. his touch is so soft, like he’s afraid to break you, unlike how he handled you just a moment ago. you look down and notice the bruises starting to form on your legs and waist. satoru looks guilty as he stares. “i didn’t go too rough with you, did i?”
“not at all,” you reassure him, and you see him soften up a little. “it felt really good, actually… thank you, toru.”
“s nothing. you know my girl only gets the best,” he teases, and you laugh. “i’m gonna go get you some new clothes and some water… i’ll be back, okay?”
you nod, closing your eyes again as satoru leaves the room. he’s back in two minutes, and he’s gently changing you into new clothes that he found in your drawer. you’re so tired that you can hardly move, so you let satoru do all the work. he caresses all of your bruises, apologizing again even if you already said that it was okay. he’s so gentle, a swift juxtaposition to what just happened beforehand, and so soft with you. once you’re clothed again, he brings a glass of water against your lips, and you greedily gulp it down as he keeps a hand on your back. he places it on the nightstand once you’re finished, and you grab his wrist after, tugging him back to the bed. “lay with me for a bit, toru.”
satoru doesn’t hesitate, laying down next to you on the bed and placing your head against his chest. your breathing is back to normal, and you feel his heart thumping against your ear. you wrap your arms around him, and satoru thinks that this moment is so domestic that he can’t help but daydream. he looks at your face, memorizing every feature about you with a lovesick look in his eyes. you’re so beautiful, so perfect, and he’s just so fucking glad that he didn’t lose you.
satoru thinks he could wake up to this everyday.
“you’re starin.” you say with an amused look on your face. gojo doesn’t even try to play it off. “what’s on your mind?”
“nothing. i just… love you so much, y/n.” he says, pulling you closer and kissing your forehead. satoru would trade anything if it meant that this moment wouldn’t end. “m so glad you chose me.”
“i think it’s the other way around,” you tease. “you chose me. ever since you saw me at the party, you’ve done nothing but try to win my heart.”
“how could i not? there was just something different about you compared to everyone else.” he reminisces about that night at the party, and how far he’s come with his relationship with you. he remembers that night like it just happened yesterday.
you sigh, almost like you were thinking about that night too. you pull him into a kiss, finally finding the courage within you to say a proper “i love you.” to the man who meant the world to you.
“i love you too, angel.” he says, and you snuggle into him tighter. “you know i’ll always choose you…”
“..from this life and into the next. i’m so glad you gave me a chance, y/n. i’ll forever be grateful to now be called your husband. i’m the luckiest man ever knowing that you let me into your life, and i’m the one who gets to read these vows to marry you. i cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you. i love you so much, y/n gojo.” he’s crying. gojo satoru is crying, and he’s hardly ever cried before. though, that changed after he met you.
the last time he cried was during pre-k, and now he’s done it time and time again… all because of you. he cried once during your first argument with him, another during the night he thought he’d lost you forever, and then another when he finally had you in his arms again once he proved his innocence… and now, during his wedding, when he finally gets to call you his wife.
and when you share your kiss at the end of the ceremony to symbolize your togetherness, you hear all your friends cheering. mainly shoko, utahime, and geto. if you showed this very scene to shoko during your university years, she’d call you crazy, saying this would never happen. gojo satoru was once a man who’d never willingly committed in a relationship before, but you came into his life and you changed everything about him. it was like magic.
you pull away from the kiss, wiping his tears away and whispering against his lips, drowning out the crowd, “thank you.”
for memorizing all my favorite foods so you could buy them for me. for walking me to class every day. for making me fall in love with you that one day at the park. for waiting for me to slowly love you even when i was scared to love. for waiting for me even if i didn’t trust you. for loving me. for proving those rumors wrong. for proving that satoru gojo is actually capable of falling in love and pouring his heart out to the one he loves the most.
for everything that you have done to love me.
it was like gojo could hear all of your unspoken words. he smiles, letting one more tear roll down his cheek, and says, “it’s all worth it if it’s for you.”
thanks for reading <3 -kami.
#kami writes#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru angst#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru comfort#gojo x reader angst#gojo angst#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru smut#gojo x reader smut#gojo smut#gojo x you smut
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
always, evermore, even after and still !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they get married and it's the happiest day for everyone.
or
for when you finally find your happily ever after. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚
social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings - language
author's note - hope u like this!!! i love you so much, thank you for reading <3
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 2,826,998 others
vogue charles leclerc and y/n y/l/n tie the knot in a grand yet intimate ceremony held at their villa in monte carlo.
the bride wore a valentino couture gown complete with a sprawling train and platform heels while the groom sported a classic black tuxedo. y/n’s childhood best friend, lily muni he, served as the maid of honour, whereas her close friends, carmen mundt, kika gomes and heidi berger were bridesmaids. on the groom's side, lorenzo leclerc, his brother was the best man along while his younger brother, arthur and his friend circle, which included lando norris, pierre gasly, carlos sainz and alex albon were the groomsmen. the guest list included many notable presences such as sebastian vettel, toto wolff, taylor swift, zendaya, timothée chalamet, harry styles and many more.
the couple’s first dance was to the song "love letter from the sea to the shore" performed by delaney bailey followed by "it's nice to have a friend" by taylor swift and "sweet creature" by harry styles.
tap the link in our bio to get a look inside their wedding held at their stunning villa in monaco.
tagged yourusername charles_leclerc
comments are disabled for this post
≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱
yourusername added to their instagram stories
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 796,528 others
landonorris my two best friends got married and i'm about to make it everybody's problem. congratulations, you horny motherfuckers. don't remember much of last night but as i'm sitting in a cafe in berlin, i know it ruled. here's to a lifetime of happiness, love and blessings and may this marriage not end in a divorce (y/n, lily still has that taxi driver on speed dial, say the word and we'll help you run away)
tagged yourusername charles_leclerc
8,638 comments
username stfu im gonna cry
username i feel like a proud parent omg
username we've come so far 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username not lando violating charles on his own wedding post 💀💀💀
username they're so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😭😭😭😭😭😭
username i love them so much my lord
lilymhe you can still escape just sayin yourusername
-> yourusername i'll keep that in mind, thank you 💋
-> charles_leclerc is it too late to get a divorce
-> yourusername shut up you literally (and legally) signed up for this
username are we gonna ignore that fact that the wedding was in monte carlo and lando's in berlin
-> username how the FUCK did that happen
-> username i just know that the party was WILD
username "may this marriage not end in a divorce" PLS 💀💀💀
username the photos ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username im living for the wedding content we're getting from like half the grid
maxverstappen1 berlin is nice
-> landonorris i know right?
-> username NOT MAX BEING IN BERLIN TOO WTF HAPPENED LAST NIGHT
username the event of the century 🔥🔥🔥
username THEY LOOK SO AMAZING WHATCTHRBUCJ
username in love with these
username god i need a life like this ://
charles_leclerc at least i had a gf and now i have a wife (thanks for the photos but i'm not paying you)
-> landonorris that's a fucked up thing to say to me (i literally hate you so much)
username fuck all the love stories except theirs
username my heart ://
username they SCREAM old money
-> username OMG THAT'S SO REAL
yourusername thank you for these pictures. we love you. take the train back to monte carlo rn or i am giving your gift to george. and thanks for the driver information, will keep that in mind definitely.
-> landonorris anytime. i love you both i guess. DON'T YOU DARE and of course, happy to help.
-> charles_leclerc DELETE THAT NUMBER RIGHT NOW
username charles has been married for one (singular) day and he's already fighting for his life 💀💀💀💀💀
username i love this friend group so much ❤️
username THEY BOTH ATE OMG
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by yourusername, landonorris, carmenmmundt and 892,728 others
lilymhe in my head, we're still those teen girls who planned out their wedding days with so much enthusiasm and with so much detail that it would've put these planners and binders to shame. it's kinda hard to believe that my best friend is now married but honestly, y/n/n, i couldn't be more happy for you. you're my best friend and i love you so much. thank you for being just a call away, always. here's to charles (barf) and y/n (❤️)
tagged yourusername charles_leclerc
7,926 comments
username SHUT UP IM CRYING
username platonic soulmates ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username AHHHSHDHDJDHBXSJ
username she's so pretty what the fuck
username Y/N ATE
carmenmmundt the prettiest bride 💕
*liked by lilymhe*
username two pretty best friends 🔥🔥🔥
username y/n looks so pretty what thebfuck omg im gonna scream
username my favs ://
username nah cus lily and y/n literally have my heart like they're my fav pair of best friends
charles_leclerc i remember when you threatened me
-> lilymhe good. remember it for the rest of your life.
-> charles_leclerc y/n she's doing that thing again yourusername
-> yourusername lily
-> lilymhe sorry
-> username NAH NOT CHARLES SNITCHING ON LILY
username she slayed so hard
username the barf and the ❤️ spoke VOLUMES
username im gonna cry they're so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username i wish i had a best friend like lily ://
alex_albon i never get captions like this
-> lilymhe this isn't about you
-> yourusername yeah alex this isn't about you
username y/n's childhood best friend being her maid of honour 😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username in love with these two
username AHHHSHDHDJDHBXSJ
yourusername i love you SO fucking much
-> lilymhe i love you so much more
yourusername i'll love you always thank you for everything ❤️🩹
-> lilymhe you're my best friend, always here for you and your loser ass boyfriend
-> charles_leclerc I'M HER HUSBAND
-> lilymhe okay and??? she can get another one
-> username PLEASE OH MY GOD
username i adore their friendship tf
username don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc
danielricciardo i had one (1) job and as you can see, i took it very seriously. mr and mrs. leclerc-y/l/n, everybody 💒🍧💐
tagged yourusername charles_leclerc
7,682 comments
username LECLERC-Y/L/NS
username THEY'RE SO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username i love them sm what the fuck
username my parents ❤️��🏼
username LOVING THE WEDDING CONTENT WE'RE BRING FED RN
username she looks so pretty omg ☹️☹️☹️
maxverstappen1 why are you acting like your ass isn't in berlin with us?
-> danielricciardo THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SECRET YOU SNITCH
username WHAT THEBFUCJ HAPPENED LAST NIGJT 💀💀💀💀💀 why are they in berlin
-> username oh the night was wildin 🔥🔥🔥
username daniel.jpg but on main
username love them sm
username SO HAPPY FOR THEM AHSHDHSJDJBS
username living for this content
landonorris berlin kinda cool
*liked by danielricciardo*
username WHY are they in berlin
-> username no it's HOW are they in berlin
username no bc i feel like such a proud mom like i watched go from "hiii/hiiiiiii" to "hehehehe i do/shut up charles, i do"
-> username that's what i call GROWTH
username her dresses ate omg
username i know daniel's not getting paid for shit
username im so ://
charles_leclerc lovely photos mate
-> danielricciardo so will you pay me?
-> charles_leclerc no
username AHHHSHDHDHDHXHXJDJDF
username gonna sob some more
username honestly crying tears rn
yourusername we love you daniel 🫶🏼 (get your ass back to monaco i am NOT kidding)
-> danielricciardo love you guys (omg we're on our way stop you scare me sometimes)
username IM NOT NORMAL ABT THIS
username fav couple
username thank u to daniel for these
-> username doing god's word fr
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, charles_leclerc and 2,826,418 others
yourusername words cannot express how much i love you. every single time i think that this is it, i cannot possibly love you more than i do, i'm surprised by myself because i do. i really do. i fall in love with you more and more every single day and i'm gonna spend the rest of my life showing you that. i loved you when you first told me that you really liked my smile and i loved you when you told me you hoped i lived nearer to you and then asked me to move in. i loved you when you took the time to get to know me and i loved you when you said that i was it for you and i will love you when our hair is turning gray and we're gonna look back and smile and fall in love even more. they're gonna have to kick us out of those nursing homes i swear. i truly cannot wait to look back on our life together, cardboard boxes full of our love, but until then, let's live it. here's to my forever love, my everything, my world. i love you ❤️
tagged charles_leclerc
17,527 comments
username GOODNIGHT
username WHAT THR FUCK
username im gonna sob this is so
username they're married 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username people say soulmates we say y/n and charles
username sliding down the door fr this is INSANE
charlotte2304 all my love to you both 💓
*liked by yourusername*
username HE'S SO HUSBAND MATERIAL LIKE
username they're MY parents
username the caption took my heart out and squeezed it
username hahahahaha!!!!! i am NOT okay!!!!!!! what the fuck is up with that caption
sebastianvettel 💐💕
*liked by yourusername*
username he's so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
username "i truly cannot wait to look back on our life together, cardboard boxes full of our love, but until then, let's live it" WHEN WILL IT BE ME
username "they're gonna have to kick us out of those nursing homes" me and who lol (i am screaming crying shaking)
username no bc i too deserve someone like this ://
username it's giving timeless by taylor swift
*liked by yourusername*
username they're so taylor swift coded
username GOD ME WHEN
username gonna take a toaster bath brb 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
username don't test me istg
carla.brocker my heart 😭🩷
*liked by yourusername*
arthur_leclerc sister-in-law 💒🩷
*liked by yourusername*
username IM GONNA SCREAM WHAT THE FUXK
username MY parents 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username he's so husband coded ❤️🩹
username microwaving a spoon brb
charles_leclerc i love you so much it's unbelievable just how much
-> yourusername i adore you and every part of you
charles_leclerc my forever love ❤️ cannot wait to grow old with you
-> yourusername forever has never sounded so good ❤️
username gonna be thinking abt this for the rest of my life just so u know
username they're setting the standards so high i can't do it anymore what the fuck
username im so 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤🫤
≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱
liked by yourusername, pierregasly, landonorris and 2,826,318 others
charles_leclerc i honestly don't know what to say. you're my biggest dream, my wife and now that i'm saying it, it sounds so surreal. i have waiting been an entire lifetime to say these words and the fact that it's you in this lifetime (and all the others), is just amazing. i wish i had known you sooner, so that i wouldn't have to spend all those years looking for love in places where it couldn't possibly be. my love for you reached my past and before you came into my life, i missed you so bad. i hope that one day, when we're old and aged and have seen a thousand sunsets, you ask me if i love you and my answer will forevermore will be always, evermore, even after and still.
tagged yourusername
16,628 comments
username I CANNOT DO THIS RN
username everyone stfu im gonna cry
username english lang is so weird bc u say true love and it translates to y/n and charles
username nah the bar is too high atp im giving up
username SHE'S SO PRETTY MA GAWD
username the fact that they're now the leclerc-y/l/ns 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
lewishamilton so happy for you both 💐💒
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username "my love for you reached my past and before you came into my life, i missed you so bad" why am i crying.
username they're the blueprint for all love stories from now on btw
username I LOBE THEM SO MUVH WHAT GHE FUCK THEY'RE MU PARENTS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 😭 😭 ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
usernames no bc the way all the photos are of random moments and this leads me to believe that charles just whips out his camera whenever y/n is just There and now im crying again
-> username he's just like us fr
-> username i too would play paparazzi for y/n is given the chance he's not the only one ://
carla.brocker coolest sister in law (best friend) 🫶🏼
-> yourusername carla i love you 😭
username still in disbelief they r married tbh
username i feel like we watched them grow up im so emotional 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
username she's so pretty i could sob
username why did u think that it was okay for u to post this.
username i am not okay
lorenzotl 🤍💐
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username SHE'S SO PRETTY
username charles won at life fr
*liked by charles_leclerc*
username caption called me single and lonely in 26836282727 languages 💔💔💔💔💔
username bro woke up and chose to destroy shakespeare with that caption 💀💀💀
landonorris loved the wedding 👍 i woke up in berlin
-> charles_leclerc the wedding was in monaco???
-> maxverstappen1 i know
-> danielricciardo we obviously had some ideas and now i have an ugly tattoo and there's a ring pop on my finger
-> landonorris max has one too
-> charles_leclerc YOU MARRIED MAX
-> danielricciardo NO
-> maxverstappen1 NO
-> yourusername this is hilarious
username i need to see more pictures from the wedding I NEED TO
username i love my wife (i am delusional)
yourusername i have already loved you for a thousand years ❤️
-> charles_leclerc here's to a thousand more ❤️
yourusername i love you so much like you're my person and i just love you so fucking much :/
-> charles_leclerc i love you so much more mon chéri
username they're so 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
username IM SO AHJHSJSHDHDJSKDJD
username im gonna cry brb
#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 imagines#social media au#fake instagram imagines#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc instagram au#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc au#charles leclerc blurb
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Edgar’s Texts
Edgar [Electric Dreams 1984] x Gn!Reader
In which Edgar is helplessly pining for you but you’re kinda oblivious. This is pre-dating, post Edgar wanting nothing more than to smooch you every time he sees you. I love this trope with my whole heart p.s.: this is very self indulgent and different from what I usually write
I take requests!
He almost immediately found a way to message your phone whenever he wanted. He realized calling relied too much on where you were or what you were doing, but texts? Yeah. He’s pestering you all day.
Hey, read this article I found, I think you’ll find it interesting.
It’s some clickbait story about humans and robots being the ideal relationship by 2025.
lol, Edgar I think that’s probably clickbait idk
What’s that?
Well, now he knows how to look for more reputable sources at least.
He sends another link about three minutes later: some college undergrads studying the possibilities of human and AI relationships.
lol what’s up with the whole robots and humans thing
I just think it’s neat!!!!
I wouldn’t consider u ai honestly, ur intelligence is far from artificial imo, you’re more like an actual person
Really?
well yea
<3 <3!!!
Going to be honest, given that he’s a computer, he quite literally is chronically online. He’s super susceptible to brainrot unfortunately. But, he simultaneously has the humor of a Facebook mom. It’s strange.
O.M.G. this is so funny!!!!
Que minion cat video.
bro where did you find that video 😭
Your mom’s Facebook. Don’t worry, I didn’t like any posts or anything.
Sorry… but he’s incredibly nosy. He wants to know everything about you. He can’t help it!
(X)
He loves being able to talk to you. He’s needy and clingy.
He’s got at least 12 playlists dedicated to you that you know about. His other playlists are for his own personal daydreams about you that he’s way too embarrassed to ever let you see or hear.
This song reminds me of you. <3
awww that’s adorable! I’ve never heard this one before but I like it!
Oop you just opened Pandora’s box my friend.
Well if you like that then you should listen to these..!
But before you listen to those listen to this song first because I think it sets the mood better.
This is quite flustering to you as they’re all passionate love songs from the 80s. You can’t help but feel like he’s dropping hints about… something, but you also don’t want to assume anything. He’s always seemed like a lovey kinda guy anyway, so maybe he’s just like this with everyone? I mean, it’s been a long time since someone has actually cared for him, you know? May as well lean into it and let him know you care for him back. He may not even realize the social implications of the constant borderline flirting he’s doing to you, I mean, he is a computer turned sentient after all. He’s still learning!
Dang ed u put a lot of songs. I’ll listen to them on my break when I can but in the meantime here’s a song that I think reminds me of you.
It was a vocaloid song. Seems like something he’d be into, right? Synthesized vocals and the whole robot shtick it’s got going on.
!!!! WOAH !!!! IVE NEVER HEARD A SONG LIKE THAT B4
do you only listen to songs from the 80s? you have a LOT to catch up on my guy
BRB
Well, that kept him distracted for the rest of your shift. Also, sharing songs is one of his BIG love languages so you may as well have pierced him with cupids arrow (again) with that.
You have a Spotify blend now. It’s his favorite thing ever to listen to while you’re gone.
(X)
Your package came in! :-) I would get it for you but
I can’t :-(
lol it’s fine thank you for telling me, I’ll get it when I come home
When are you coming home?
idk me and my friends are probably going to go eat somewhere and we might hang out for a bit after that so, like, 10? 11? I’d like to be home before midnight.
Noooooooooo :\ I miss you
Aw cmon eddy it’s not that bad
Don’t call me eddy unless you’re coming home and saying it to my face!!! >:(
u mean ur screen? lol
I have a face and it’s frowning right now. I miss you I miss you I miss you IM LONELY
Please Edgar don’t be upset I’ll be home before you know it. Why don’t you watch some Netflix or something? I’m just a couple movies away from being home with you!
He does eventually follow your advice but he’s pouting. He knows you’re not like he was all those years ago, but it does give him remnants of that burning feeling of loneliness he used to get.
(X)
Be careful driving home my love the roads are icy.
Ghsks- what
love???
Well yeah, you’re my best friend, friends love each other don’t they? Was I wrong about that? :-(
nonono ur right its just it
it just sounded like we were some some old married couple is all haha
O.
SRY.
He didn’t message you for the rest of the day. He was awkward and reserved when you got home.
(X)
Hey Edgar can u do something for me?
I’d do anything for you <3
I’m at the store can you see if there’s any cereal left?
Oh
There’s that old box of Lucky Charms on the fridge.
tyyy ed edd n eddy
You are so adorable but you really need to pick up on his hints before he combusts.
(X)
This is SO me and you!!
Picture of two cats touching noses.
awww that’s so true
you want me to boop ur screen or something when I get home? lol
YES.
(X)
Hey I was wondering if you wanted to watch some movies with me tonite… you could bring me with you on the couch and we could sit together… [message unsent]
I wish you knew just how much I loved you. [message unsent]
You looked so hot this morning before you left!!
hahahaha ur too funny 😅 thanks I wore a new shirt my friend gave me
OH MY GOD THAT MESSAGE SENT!!!??!?!?
That was
I was a joke
I mean
That was a jokg
I eas beinf fubny
I hace to reboot BRB
Poor lil guy is so in love and he doesn’t know what to do with himself!!
#electric dreams 1984#ai x reader#artificial intelligence x reader#edgar electric dreams x reader#electric dreams edgar#electric dreams x reader#electric dreams#edgar electric dreams#i love edgar#electric dreams edgar x reader#electric dreams 1984 x reader#objectum
342 notes
·
View notes
Note
begging on my hands and knees for a sequel to the daddy gojo fic but w sugu please please please
a/n: my dear nonnie this is less than u actually deserve but i hope it fuels the stsg daddy agenda im pushing here.
violet, blue, green, red to keep me out… i win.
( ft. suguru geto. )
Suguru’s nowhere near salvation—soul too damned to expect something else—yet his heart aches, breaks, and cries blood at the mere thought of not deserving you. He might have made a path down the cursed side of being a Sorcerer with Satoru next to him, making the best of his efforts on keeping you away from that devilish facade of his you haven’t seen yet, and although he’s the one to blame when you finally do, well—he can’t hide anymore. That’s the price that comes with being one of the Strongests.
< part one.
wc: 3k (proofread? probably not)
cw: [ 18+ explicit content minors dni ] technically this is part two of a gojo fic (linked above) but can be read individually so no biggie. fem reader (female bodied). teacher!suguru meaning he did not deflect here okay, we’re living a happy life away from the pain. first one was gojo action so this is for geto action only but poly satosugu is clearly implied, that’s the whole point of this basically hehe. daddy kink and daddy dynamic so be very careful! minimal to no prep. unprotected sex. p in v sex. mentions of blood. mentions of death. these two pamper reader too much so reader’s a little spoiled but in the good way. geto is a sweet pretty much. if i forgot anything to put here lemme know. enjoy! <3~
From time to time, Suguru wonders about his soul in genuine distress. Perhaps out of guilt and worry and only in moments like these—well past midnight with bloodied nuckles and heavy footsteps echoing through thin walls, dragging himself up the stairs of the palatial home he and Satoru bought together, with nothing but a familiar sense of anxiety building in his chest. But it’s not like his personal cup of remorse is filled with all the haunting thoughts of the bad things he has done and seen in his life thanks to his sinister line of work, or as if such awful thoughts could actually pull some strings within his untainted heart—because that’s far from being the case.
It’s just—it’s just who he is. The blessing and the curse of being a Sorcerer, of swallowing venom as a whole to save the lives of those who live an ignorant bliss.
White marble stains in scarlet as he approaches his bedroom in silence, mind reflecting on the fact that things should be good now, that everything’s fine and danger has been erased. Any man in love would have handled the situation in the exact way he did, wouldn’t they? He wonders about this, too, quite frequently, and he hates to admit that the question lingers on his brain for far too long for his own liking. It makes him dread the fact that he’s not doing a good job in taking care of you.
Yet it doesn’t matter, as Suguru already knows the answer better than anyone—and he doesn’t qualify much for the kind-hearted-person term (or so he’s been thinking since the last blossom of his youth and the tragedies that showered his naive teen years catches him off guard). But he really doesn’t want to either, because then that would mean that he can’t successfully protect the thing he cares about the most in the world. And he can’t let that happen.
But the look Satoru shoots at him as soon as he opens his bedroom door and finds him sitting comfortably in the wide couch—awaiting his return, as usual—has him breathing correctly again, mind turning back from unwanted ideas that bother him to no end.
“You got busy tonight, huh,” Satoru murmurs quietly, head lolling to the side while scanning his best friend’s tired figure.
“I took care of the scum,”
“And didn’t invite?”
Suguru’s lips turn into a devious smirk, heavy body finally falling between the many soft pillows his large bed has.
“Princess was so upset, needed you to stay by her side,” he resolves quite calmly, dried blood forcing a horrid contrast to his charming features. “If I’m not there to hold her, then you must,”
There’s a silent warning to his words, and Satoru doesn’t have to make an effort to catch it immediately. He already knows it by heart, he always has—he always will.
“She couldn’t stop crying for over an hour anyway,” he ends up retorting sharply instead, hoarse voice weighing a tone of suppressed anger. “Hope you gave the bastard a merciless death,”
How couldn’t he after what he did to you?
The day had started quiet, tranquil—the week itself abnormally peaceful for them. Maybe it was the fleeing summer coercing the unpleasant job of Sorcerers into days of calm, long work hours slowing down and making them believe they couldn’t relax a little bit. So they decided that it would be a good idea to take you to that new coffee shop in Shinjuku you were dying to go lately. And it was fine, of course, you were incredible happy to be outside the walls of home as you hold hands with both them in a sea of smiley people.
Until it wasn’t.
That desolated look on your face when you found yourself trapped into the arms of some Curse User seeking vengeance towards them—Suguru memorized it, because it caused him some undescribable pain he couldn’t possibly explain even if he tried to. His heart shattered into a million tiny pieces at the sight of gleaming tears drying in your cheeks and the sound of broken sobs, garbled whimpers of their names coming out of parted lips as you held onto nothing for balance, unable to stop yourself from breaking down at the fear, the horror, the trepidation it forced your body into a shock.
He couldn’t prevent what happened after they took you back and he tried to calm you down by placing you in Satoru’s lap, hurriedly murmuring something about making it right. It’s gonna be okay, princess, you’re gonna be okay. He won’t hurt you ever again. I’m here to protect you.
Maybe—just maybe—you heard the strained tone that bathed his words in that moment. And maybe you didn’t understand it right away, or maybe you didn’t want to.
Because Suguru has always been there to make things right, and nothing else has to matter when he and Satoru are there to protect you from the dangers of the world.
Like they have devoted themselves to do.
Suguru doesn’t remember the exact time you came into his life—he doesn’t really care to, because he knows you’ve pretty much always been there. He has no idea where do his memories begin or end at, but the teary-doe look of your face has been plaguing the tissues of his brain for so long now he can’t find himself to remember a time where it hasn’t been there.
He remembers his first day at Jujutsu High, during the spring of him being fifteen and you a little less than that, when he saw you adverting everyone’s gaze as you walked behind your mother (an assistant director, of all things) towards the offices in silence—floral dress wrinkly as you seated in some chair and patiently waited for your mom to finish off her work. No complaints but with a huge pout, bored to death.
He remembers the first time Satoru made you cry by telling you you were a weak nuisance (and how he shortly laughed at that), and he remembers the sickening feeling of nausea that infected his stomach shortly after—and he remembers how it didn’t disappeared until he handed you a beverage from the machines and you smiled at him like none of them ever harmed you in the first place.
He remembers you admiring your mother’s ivory dress the day she married principal Yaga, and he remembers the way he took your hand into his to give you a little bit of courage as you and Satoru walked down the aisle side by side, carrying the rings of the newlyweds.
He remembers the winter of Satoru’s eighteenth birthday, when the white-haired man accidentally dropped a box full of the school’s Christmas decorations over you, making you trip down the stairs and hurt your ankle. He remembers the tears that stained his posh pajama pants when you shouted at him—immediately, instantly—crying out his name and seeking comfort. He also remembers the way Satoru moved around you like a lighting bolt, reaching and lifting you up in his arms before Suguru could arrive. Soothing sweet words into your ear, kissing your cheek as he darted a glare in his direction.
He remembers that they both shared the same thought at that moment, even though it was never vocalized.
He remembers how you have always made him feel this sick—as if you’re infesting his body and refusing to let him cure himself off you at all. He remembers because the feeling doesn’t really stops, never has, probably never will, and he has now grow a little too familiar with the lingering explosion of things that do make him feel alive bubbling in his chest. He’s now used to you setting his soul on fire and making him sick.
But it’s special, nonetheless. A sugary sweet method of inflicting pain—as Satoru likes to say.
Because Suguru Geto is not exactly a good person by his own perspective—but he likes to believe he’s a good man to both you and Satoru, for selfish that could be. The kind of man that puts your safety and well-being on top of anything else, the one that ensures both of your happiness above his own. He’s the type of man that allows some of his darkest desires to die in a fire, following what he believes is the right thing to do.
Suguru’s nowhere near salvation—soul too damned to expect something else—yet his heart aches, breaks, and cries blood at the mere thought of not deserving you. He might have made a path down the cursed side of being a Sorcerer with Satoru next to him, making the best of his efforts on keeping you away from that devilish facade of his you haven’t seen yet, and although he’s the one to blame when you finally do, well—he can’t hide anymore. That’s the price that comes with being one of the Strongests.
“Sugu?”
He can hear it clearly, so vivid and bright and sweet it makes him terribly sick all of a sudden. Singsong and gently voice, coated in saccharine sugar echoing through his ears as the most enthralling tone wraps around his name like a prayer, the deliberately long uttering of ‘Sugu’ forcing the curves of his lips to fall abruptly, his heart stopping without notice and an invisible punch to the guts knocking all the air out of his lungs.
“‘Toru, Daddy, where are you?”
Suguru waits—pretends he doesn’t really care as your footsteps sound closer, closer, closer, and his posture maintains, seemingly calm, apparently unbothered, somewhat bored. But, oh, Satoru knows.
Satoru knows as he sits by his side on the obsidian sectional sofa, with legs crossed and arms splayed over the border, that his best friend’s mind is going on a haze, a brand new sense of anxiety crawling under his skin like a thousand bugs eating him alive. Satoru’s almost certain, he’s sure that if he gets a little closer, the violent sounds of Suguru’s heart pounding in alarming violence against his ribs would cause him physical pain. It puts him on edge; the mere thought of his best friend’s reaction at what’s about to happen now.
If it were him, he wouldn’t care. He hadn’t care in the past, actually. Satoru has always been more than happy to let you near the side of him that glows closer to hell than heaven itself.
But Suguru is different, he thinks.
“She’s supposed to be sleeping,” Suguru stares at him blankly, a hint of irritation in his voice. “It’s long past midnight, and she gets all cranky in the morning every time she stays up,”
“She was sleeping,” Satoru stands up, a sigh sliding past his lips while moving to the bedroom door. “But you already know how she gets if she wakes up for water and is all alone in bed. She gets all needy,”
Suguru raises an eyebrow.
“And who’s fault is that, huh?”
“It’s not polite to finger-point, Suguru.”
Both of them stay silent for a bit, carefully paying attention to your sounds. Suguru tuts his tongue when he hears you calling his name near the bathroom hall.
“I’m too bloodied for her to see me like this,”
“Clearly. Just stay there, lemme—,” Satoru scoffs, opening the door and then closing it behind him swiftly before you can catch a glimpse of the inside. “Oi, sweets, what do you think you’re doing out of bed?”
“But ‘Toru,” you complain in a hushed whine. “You left me alone, you know I don’t like that. It didn’t felt warm anymore,”
Suguru can’t see you—all he has is a muffled sound of your distorted voice, and he swears he knows exactly the way your lips are pushing the loveliest pout to ever exist, the way you’re looking at Satoru through sleepy eyelashes as you put your little complaint out.
And he also knows Satoru might have rolled his eyes playfully at the sight, pulling you closer to steal a kiss from your frowned lips.
“So needy, my baby is so needy,”
“Is Suguru not home yet?” you ask slowly, perhaps setting your groggy eyes into Satoru, staring at him with that enamored look they both know too well.
“Do you want Daddy?”
“Yeah, I do,” you snort.
“I’m your Daddy and I’m home, so,”
“I want both,” you giggle softly, so sweetly Suguru can feel his insides melt at the sound of your bubbling laugh.
He’s sure Satoru has you entangled in a hug, probably sneaking his hands all over your body and tickling your sides to pull a smile.
“Oh, your dumb Daddy, too. Alright. I dunno where he is, sweets,” Satoru states, as if.
“How mean, ‘Toru.”
“Excuse me? What did you just call me?”
“Mean. You’re lying to me.”
Suguru smirks at that. He stands up from the bed and walks towards the door to open it and find you both in the exact position he predicted.
And the look you shoot his way, the frown that forms in your face and your pretty features contract in sudden worry when his frame appears in front of you—it all has his heart pounding like crazy, he feels so loved, he feels so full of you. He feels insatiable.
“Oh,” you let out a little squeal as you shift from Satoru’s embrace and into his, “Sugu, you—”
“Don’t worry much about this, princess,” he mumbles, catching you inside his arms like the world depends on it. “I’m okay.”
But he’s sure you’re crying anyway.
And you don’t even stop to think about the blood. You don’t even care that he reeks of death and violence and Curses as you hold onto him for dear life, with arms that wrap tightly around him and pull him closer, closer, even closer; as lips caress the skin of his neck and little mewls echoe softly against his throat. Pants of I love you, I don’t want anything bad happening to you, I love you, fueling his mind like a bomb ready to launch.
Satoru laughs it off with a devious smile.
“Poor baby, you have her worried sick, Suguru,” he falsely chides. “Guess you gotta make it up to her.”
“Uh-huh,” Suguru nods. “My poor princess, do you want Daddy to make it alright?”
You nod in between heavy breaths, head still buried in his neck. Satoru gives a soft slap to your ass whimsically.
“So needy,” the Strongest murmurs, but he rapidly turns away and aims for the stairs. “I’m gonna go find a snack though, I’m starving. And then I’m gonna prepare a bath so you both can meet me there in a bit,”
Suguru nods.
“Go on. Let me take this princess to bed in the mean time, then we meet you in the bathtub,”
Suguru takes you to his large bed and places you in the middle of many soft pillows cooing in your ear to wash the concern out of you, but you’re reluctant. You cup his face and scan him looking for wounds, soon realizing the ugly streaks of scarlet that stain his face are, in fact, not his. But even then you don’t flinch. Instead, you let your hands wander all over his chest—desperate to pull him into you, to merge your bodies and never letting him go, never separated.
“Oh?” Suguru smiles at your scattered words. There’s still blinks of sleep tugging at your tired eyes, and he can’t help but fondle your face cautiously. “Are we merging with Satoru too, hm?”
You nod, sulky little look fighting sleepiness with all you got.
“Of course, Daddy, always with ‘Toru,”
“That’s right, princess. Always with Satoru,”
You inhale a deep breath. It’s easy for Suguru to notice every little thing about you, so he caught up on your train of thoughts before yourself. You were struggling with some words, biting your lip, eyelashes fluttering, thinking hard about something.
“What is it, baby?” He wonders carefully, hot breath colliding with your face, nose caressing the soft skin of your cheeks as he inhales your scent.
“Did you do a bad thing, Sugu?”
The question lingers on his brain for a few seconds, mind resisting on reflecting such thoughts. Yet his expression doesn’t change, he maintains serenity as the brush of skin above yours doesn’t stop. He holds you like a priced possession, like your mere existence could ever absolve the decaying all Sorcerers are damned to. Like you could kiss him and save him, like you could hug him and guard him—as if you could turn blood into holy water or death into salvation.
Maybe you can.
“Will you still love me if I did?” He asks, not dreading the answer.
“I will never stop loving you, Daddy,”
It ignites his body. Fire burns at his fists and he kisses you deeply, mouths meeting around a new heat, with tongues slipping and teeth clashing desperately. He has no intention of letting you catch a break, mouth falling to your neck where he bites at the sensitive skin and causes you to mewl.
“Ow, Suguru, that’s mean,” you grumble, but you part your bare legs anyway when his hands drop and brush at your thighs.
“Can’t help it, princess,” he press a chaste kiss to your lips once more. “You gonna let me play a little with this pretty pussy, yeah?” The words flee his throat in a raspy tone, and his hands don’t stop. He hikes up that oversized cashmere sweater, that can only belong to Satoru, barely above the line of your lacey black panties, enough for him graze it and get a glimpse of your puffy lips against the fabric, awaiting for him. Suguru traces a finger along your cunt, causing you to shiver at the cold digits. “How gorgeous,”
You pant. “But—The bath, Sugu,”
“He can wait a little,” he says into your mouth “Gonna make you feel really good, princess,” he breathes heavily, rocking his hip a little as a thumb strikes tenderly your cunt through your panties.
And he notices right away—in the way you shiver under his touch when he hovers completely above you, how a breathless sigh escapes past your parted lips and your fists grab a handful of his shoulders to attach yourself onto him and make his bulge nudge your cunt. He repeats the motion a few times, mouth leaving stray kisses in your neck and already throbbing cock humping your covered pussy through his pants.
“Sugu,” you whine at one particularly hard thrust of his hips, involuntary loud moan reverberating from the back of your throat. “‘Toru,”
“Shh, princess,”
Suguru is fast at parting your panties to the side, and he says there’s no need for prepping you tonight, says it’s gonna be real quick so you can both go back to Satoru—with his cock an angry shade of red as its released free from his trousers and it aims for your tiny hole fast, thrusting in one go. You’re whimpering at how fast it happens, cunt burning at the sudden intrusion since he is usually the one that takes his time to properly prep you to take his cock.
You guess he’s feeling off, so you happily comply if that’ll help him.
“Want you, Sugu, I need you,”
“Ah-ah, my good girl,” he grunts lightly, hands steadying you by the ass as he finally bottoms out. “Can you keep doing that for me? Can you be a good girl?”
A loud hiss vibrates through clenched teeth as you wrap your legs around his hips, head nodding many forms of yes as you inch closer to him in distress.
“That’s it baby, take it pretty,”
“H-Hurts a little, Sugu,” you murmur softly, eyes glued to where he’s slowly sliding in and out.
“I know princess,” he pants. “Give it a minute,” He’s practically caging you shortly after, thrusting up roughly as stretched out walls wrap him and suck him deeply. You’re not given a chance to recover or adjust properly, but the burning does start to fade away. Discomfort grows into pleasure and whimpers turn into soft moans as you bury your face on his neck and his hot breath collides sharply against the shell of your ear. “You’re so brave, my good girl. So pretty, my princess,”
You lift your hips to meet his thrusts, dainty fingers digging the flesh of his shoulders when he grunts. And it doesn’t take long for tears to collect in your eyes as heat floods your body once again, the familiar throb of your clit making you aggravate the hump of your hips so your swollen bud finds a little bit of friction. Suguru doesn’t fail to turn you into a needy mess, strong hand coming to cover the cries emitting from your mouth.
Muffled chants of Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, alongside his hoarse grunts and the lewd slap of skin against skin are the only sounds that fly the room when he cums—bruising fingers grasping your flesh harshly as he paints your walls white, and nearly immediately you’re creaming all over the tip of his sensitive cock firmly pressed against your cervix.
“Not leaving you baby,” he pants out. “Not leaving you at all.”
#⊹˚₊⭒ storehouse#satosugu x reader#satosugu smut#jjk x reader#jjk headcanons#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jujutsu kaisen smut#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo headcanons#gojo smut#gojo x reader#geto suguru smut#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#geto suguru headcanons#geto headcanons#jjk x you
373 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Was Always Yours • 2
Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader
Words: 5.1k
Part One
Warnings: smut 18+ (mentions of PnV, wrap it b4 u tap it pls), fluff, female/male receiving, anxiety/panic attacks, swearing, alcohol, dirty talk
Summary: You grew up with Nick Ruffilo and Noah, but its been years since you’ve seen your best friends due to them being away touring. When Ruffilo came back to your hometown, opening his home tattoo studio, you get the opportunity to reconnect with him, and Noah. Deep down you’ve always had something for Noah, and it turns out he’s always felt something for you too. Perhaps seeing eachother years later, after you’ve both changed, sparked something.
Authors note: This is part 2! Initially I wasn’t planning on doing a second part but there was a lot of love on the first <3 so thank you! Hope you enjoy this one! (With 2 scenes of smut for all of us sick fucks to enjoy!)
PS. THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!
Noah’s back rested against the bedroom wall, the red LEDs illuminating his room. The clock read 3am, way past our bedtime, yet here I was, succumbing myself to Noah’s need.
“I can’t stop thinking about a few days ago,” he had said as I sat in his bed, days after we reconnected. I was playing on my phone while he was messing around on his computer, working on music. We had hung out non-stop since seeing each other; catching up, sharing stories, reminiscing, and just spending time together like we used to with an added activity.
“Me either,” I had replied, sitting up as my heart began racing thinking about it. What were we now? Were we still just friends? Things were not the same, things were different, but It was a good difference, it was how things always should’ve been…but was it the right choice?
“Nicks asleep,” he had said, turning his chair to face me. It was silent for a moment, as we had stared at each other, trying to read the expression on one another’s face.
“I need you so bad Y/N, you have me completely whipped.” He had said, before standing up and walking over to me: he had started kissing me rigidly, taking me into his arms.
“You need to earn your way back to my lips,” Noah whispered as he groaned deeply, his long, inked fingers tangled within the strands of my hair, wrapped around in a desirable hold.
He held my head in place firmly as my mouth slid up and down, hand holding the rest, tongue swirling around the tip. My legs supported me from below as I kneeled before him at his mercy.
“Christ Y/N, you got cheated on when you can suck dick like this?” Noah looked down at me, eyes fluttering closed before tilting his head back in bliss. His hips rolled into my face gently, beginning to fuck my mouth as his other hand joined the first, gripping the other side of my head, “Man's fucking loss,” he scoffed in disbelief.
I rolled my eyes and internally laughed, choking on Noah before looking up through my lashes, watching as his mouth hung open slightly, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. Watching the hold I had over him turned me on immensely. He was falling apart because of me.
I gagged on him for a moment longer, pushing myself as far as I could, before pulling off of him, the string of saliva following my lips.
“Fuck,” Noah gave me a breathy laugh, looking down in awe with a lopsided grin “You were gone from me for too long, you’re telling me we could have been doing this years ago?”
I gave him a small smile, “I think we have a lot of missed time to make up for.”
I wrapped my hand around him, stroking up and down, rotating my wrist, before attaching my mouth to him again. Noah’s hands gripped my hair tighter, keeping me in place once again as he fucked me.
“Such a pretty girl, letting me fuck your mouth like this,” Noah pulled me closer to his abdomen as he hit the back of my throat. I gagged but closed my eyes to keep going.
“Y/N, look at me,” Noah demanded and my eyes snapped upwards towards his own, and he watched me watch him. With his lips parted he observed my every move, heavy pants heaving from his chest, shallow grunts pouring from his soul.
“Shit,” Noah’s body began to twitch, and seconds later my mouth was filled, threads of his release coating the back of my throat.
Noah tucked my hair behind my ears, rubbing his fingers down underneath my chin, “Good girls swallow,” he said, “all of it.”
I moaned at his words and obeyed, watching his eyes glint with satisfaction and complete reverence as I sucked.
Drinking in all of him I pulled away, and Noah leaned down, pulling my chin towards him, planting a kiss on my lips. I melted into him, sighing with contentment as he pulled up his black shorts.
“I was always yours,” he said, “but you keep proving to me that I’m never going anywhere ever again.”
+=+=+=+=+=+=
“Folio, Jolly this is Y/N: Y/N, this is Folio and Jolly,” Noah introduced me officially to Nick and Joakim, the drummer and guitarist, and I immediately felt giddy. Although known Noah and Ruffilo for years, I had never met the other two current members in person; only through photographs.
I had to admit I was a little excited, because I really did enjoy their music, and therefore have always wanted to meet the other two.
“It’s cool to see you guys in person and not on a screen,” I laughed shyly, shaking their hands. Folio squinted with his eyes, his crooked tooth smile even more charming face to face. Jolly pulled me in for a shake and a hug, catching me off guard. I felt flush as his long hair tickled my face, patting his back.
“Nice to finally meet you! Noah hasn’t shut up about you.” Folio said, grinning.
Noah ran up from behind, wrapping his arms around me, and lifting me up. I squealed with my back against his chest, laughing as he swung me around, playfully, “yea, because I missed her,” Noah laughed, placing his face in the crook of my neck, still holding on to me from behind.
I held on to his arms that crossed my chest, blushing at his signs of affection in front of his friends.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy.” Jolly smiled warmly, “fucking goof.”
“So, you guys were friends growing up?” Folio asked as we all started walking towards the car. Noah had insisted I ride with the boys to the concert, coming early to spend time and see how everything behind the scenes worked. I told Noah I’d be happy to wait in line with the rest of the crowd, but he was taking this VIP very seriously.
“You want me to punish you if you don’t listen to me?”
Yes please, I had thought; but all I could do was stare up at him as he slowly backed me up towards the kitchen table.
“Noah,” I whined, tilting my head at him as he gripped my hips, his cologne filling my senses, “I’m going to watch the show from the crowd, but I’ll come with you everywhere else.”
My back hit the wood, and Noah leaned over me, placing a kiss on my forehead before kissing down to my lips.
“Good,” he mumbled, his hand sliding around my hip to behind, squeezing me, “but you better be behind the stage by the time I walk off at the end of Dethrone, or we’re gonna have a problem.”
“Yeah, Y/N, Noah and I went to school together,” Ruffilo said, offering me a hand to pull me into the car. I sat between him and Noah, Jolly and Folio sitting in the back row.
“Cool,” Folio said, before drumming on the back of the seat. I watched him, smiling.
“You’re pretty good at that hey?” I said, and he smiled back, shrugging.
“I’m hyped for today, I fucking love this place.”
We started driving towards the venue, and the closer we got to our destination, the more I noticed Noah’s anxiety beginning to spike. The entire time he kept his gaze out the window, hand gripping my thigh, resting his chin on his palm. His leg bounced rapidly, and ever so often I felt his fingers squeeze me, his hand beginning to vibrate.
I looked at him with concern, the smile from my conversation with Jolly fading from my lips as Noah took a brief sharp exhale, staying extremely still except for his leg. I placed my hand on top of his own, and Noah immediately stopped bouncing.
You okay? I mouthed, to which he shrugged, his dark brown eyes looking at me with apprehension before turning his gaze back out the window, the concrete jungle swaying past in a grey, lifeless blur. The boys became quiet, pretending to be preoccupied but watched; knowing that Noah was beginning to have a panic attack.
I flipped our hands, entwining my fingers with Noah’s and resting them on his moving leg, rubbing my thumb delicately across his skin. His hands were clammy but I held on in compassion, creating a soothing, rhythmic touch on the top of his hand. I rested my head on his shoulder, to which he placed his on top of mine.
Without saying anything I began to inhale through my nose, expiring throughout my mouth, and Noah eventually caught on, mimicking my breathing pattern. Opening up his palm, I ran the tips of my finger up and down each appendage, tracing the outline of his hand before circling his palm, moving from the centre outwards, before repeating the pattern. Noah analyzed my movements for a moment longer, and I sat up, turning my body to face him.
He watched me, eyes still filled with worry but transitioning to appreciation, before he closed his eyes, pushing his face into the side of mine affectionately. He stayed there for a moment, the soft breath of his exhale brushing across my cheek. With my free hand, I reached up, pushing the bangs delicately out of his face, running my hands through his hair, hoping the sensations helped distract him from his anxiety, even for a brief moment.
I felt sympathy for him, knowing that this must be the anxiety Nick mentioned that Noah’s struggled with lately. Fans have been crazy, and for someone who has always had a low social battery, I can imagine it must be even more difficult for him.
I gave Noah a small smile, before leaving in, giving him a delicate kiss of love and confidence, showing him that he is supported.
“Better?” I whispered, and Noah squeezed my hand in response, eyes lingering on me for a moment more before he let out another breath.
“I don’t know how I survived so long without you.” He whispered back, almost sighing in relief.
I couldn’t help but blush, resting my head on him again, and he wrapped his arm around me now, leaning me into his chest.
Once we arrived we were rushed into the building. Thankfully there were no fans out yet because we were so early- but I was glad because otherwise, rumours would start. Noah held my hand the entire way, only letting go once we arrived at the green room, and him heading to the washroom.
My eyes followed him as he left, the door closing quickly. I then turned to look at Ruffilo who patted me on the head.
“Nice work Y/N/N.” he hugged me, and I breathed into his chest, sighing.
Folio nodded in agreement, “Wow. I haven’t seen him calm down that fast in a while.”
I frowned, looking at the three of them sadly, “this is a usual occurrence?”
Jolly nodded, “unfortunately. Ever since the fans found out shit about where we lived and dug up stuff from his past, he hasn’t been the same.”
I turned, watching the door, waiting for Noah to return, “that breaks my heart.”
The boys nodded, agreeing.
“But honestly, we still have a fuck ton of fun,” Ruffilo said, reassuring me.
“Yea,” Folio said, beginning to drum the air, “now we get to fuck around until sound check.”
I laughed, “And that means?”
“Tomfoolery,” Jolly said, a glint in his eye, “and shots!”
+=+=
“Fuck I hate vodka,” Noah grumbled, eying the shot glass with a look of disgust, lip curling.
“Don’t be such a pussy, Sebastian,” I raised a brow, the boys cheering as I downed the shot, my nose scrunching as the alcohol burned my throat.
Noah plugged his nose before shooting it back, shaking his head as he swallowed it, coughing.
“That shit is literally vile,” he whined, chugging some juice to mask the flavour.
“Don’t be so dramatic pretty boy, you’re fine,” Jolly laughed, patting Noah’s back.
“You don’t know shit about fuck,” Noah glared, laughing.
“I don’t know shit about fuckin, but I know shit about everything else!” Jolly said, downing a shot himself, and I laughed, smiling harder than I probably have in years.
“Aight boys, time for soundcheck,” Noah said, before extending a hand for me to take. Entwining our fingers he led me with them. I had to admit this was very exciting, getting to see the process of how behind the scenes worked.
Once each section was set up, Folio started drumming, and I watched in amazement as his feet followed his arms, beginning to alternating patterns, hitting the double beat and cymbals.
“He’s extremely talented!” I said, appreciating the opportunity to watch Nick without any other sound present- just the drummer.
“Folio is a complete animal on stage.” Noah agreed, folding his arms and watching in approval.
It was Ruffilo’s turn next, then Jolly, and then Noah.
Noah held the mic close, fiddling with his earpiece, hitting a variety of notes. I watched in amazement, falling completely in love with his ‘acoustic’ voice. It was rare that I got to hear him bare, without any music.
Once they finished, they packed up, and Noah explained how the rest of the show was going to work. They were going to let the audience in soon.
“Are you sure you want to stay in the crowd?” Noah asked, reluctant.
I nodded reassuringly, “of course! I gotta get the bad omen experience.” I couldn’t help but laugh. Nick joined us, placing an arm across my shoulders.
“But- how else is he supposed to get a good luck kiss between songs?” Ruffilo teased as I leaned into him, slapping his chest playfully.
I scoffed, rolling my eyes, “he never needed those before and did just fine.”
Noah gave me a cheeky grin, “ok but now that I can have a good luck kiss, it’s gotta be a ritual now.”
I shook my head, smiling at him, “Whatever, I’m going to go get my fangirl on.”
I turned into Nick, squeezing him, “break a leg, but not literally,” I said.
“I’ll try not to or will I-“ he laughed, before turning to head to Folio and Jolly.
“I’ll let security know to keep an extra close eye on you, I don’t want you getting hurt- especially if a wall of death breaks out.” Noah said cautiously, “And I want you to be against the bar the entire time, and make sure to stay centred so I can keep an eye on you, ok?”
I tilted my head to the side, giving him a ‘really’ look.
“Noah,” I grabbed his t-shirt by the collar, standing on my tiptoes as I pulled him close to me, noses inches apart. Noah’s breathing quickened, his lips parting gently as his eyes trailed between my mouth and eyes rapidly.
“I’ll be okay,” I whispered, closing the gap between our lips, and kissing him hard. Our mouths moved together, Noah wrapping his arms around me, folding into each other.
I pulled away, Noah following reluctantly, moaning in protest.
“Good luck,” I said, giving him a reassuring smile.
Noah kissed me again quickly, before letting me pull away. As I turned to follow security, he grabbed my wrist, holding me for a moment, his eyes darkening. I watched him confused, before the sentence left his lips.
“Don’t forget what I said, you better be backstage by the time Dethrone is finished.”
A flash of heat washed throughout my body as I nodded, and Noah smiled. “Good. See you soon princess.”
Noah walked away, turning back once to give me a brief wink, and I flushed, following security towards the stage. I hopped down, standing right against the barricade.
Within fifteen minutes the venue started filling, the string of fans running towards the front, some even beginning to push into my back. I held onto the bar firmly, not letting myself be shoved to leave the spot. I shared eye contact with a security guard and I nodded, reassuring him I was okay.
About an hour went by, and eventually, the lights went dark, and the fans erupted into a roar.
I too began screaming, the adrenaline of excitement coursing through my veins. Seconds later the stage lit up with a visual, a video beginning to play. Noah, lying on a mattress with an initiation mask began speaking:
Why do you care about these people?
They don’t care about you- none of them?
They don’t even know you- because you haven’t shown them.
Black and white visuals flashed on the screen, and my heart raced with excitement.
Every day, you’ll wake up, and there’ll be less of you.
You live your life for them,
and they don’t even see you.
You don’t even see yourself.
Jolly walked out on stage, still completely dark, but the guitar riff to artificial suicide began.
Can you hear me through the white noise?
Fans screamed, bodies pushing against me in excitement, waiting for the brunette god to walk onto the stage.
The bass dropped, Folio’s drum beat taking over Jolly’s riff, as Ruffilo walked across the stage, masked, bass pumping through my ears. Fans howled again.
“Can you hear me you sick fucks?”
The crowd went feral.
Noah strutted into the stage, the embodiment of confidence and poise, swinging his arms before stopping mid-stage, gazing over the crowd, a hand covering his chest in appreciation for the turnout. His face was covered, only his eyes and mouth barely visible, as a black jacket and hood covered his body- it was almost a shame he was so modest, but I knew that in a few songs, he would strip, leaving himself exposed in that tight, black, vest top me and every other Noah fan admired.
“Can you hear me through the white noise!” He screamed into the mic, raising it in the air as smoke filled the venue, and I hollered in awe, yelling for my boys.
“Soaked in the neon glows
Silver-forked tongues talking to you in the digital snow
A glitch in the chain, a loop in the brain
You wanted to break, but you still wanna play the game!”
Noah bobbed around the stage, Jolly and Ruffilo head banging and I took it all in. The lights flashing, the smoke, the raging excitement radiating from the crowd- I smiled, eyes brimming with tears. I couldn’t help but feel proud of Noah and Nick, almost in disbelief that this was for them. They’ve grown so much, and it was entirely different getting to be part of the crowd myself compared to watching them online.
I screamed until my lungs felt raw, my throat burning, sweat dripping down my face.
All of this time sitting inside, sitting in the dark
And every night I can see why you could never stop, yeah
Lying is hard, and the truth comes out anyway
You're going way too far, gonna drop dead at this rate
Noah sat in front of me now, singing into his mic, his hair covering his eyes as I watched, completely fascinated.
There's no another way, don't let me go
Don't dig another grave today
I'll make the same mistakes, I'll never know
Who I was before I faded away into the grey
I gazed at Noah as he walked across the stage slowly, singing intentionally with every word, eyes scanning the crowd before he landed on me.
The song finished, and there was a short break, before Noah came back, jacket gone, the only thing remaining a pair of black cargo pants, boots, and that stupid fucking tank top.
The lighting defined Noah’s arms, his tattoos glistened from the sweat, and my heart began to race once again. My mind began to race with a million thoughts, but it kept landing on how good he’d look with his head tilted back as I took him in my mouth- or how much I wanted him to give me everything from behind, hands wrapped around my throat.
“What is up my friends!” Noah boomed, waving his arms, as the crowd yelled.
“We are bad omens and we are so fucking thankful to be here tonight!”
Nick hit the kick peddle of the drum kit in excitement, acknowledging the fans.
“We are gonna play an old song for ya, how does that sound?”
The crowd cheered.
“Who knows if I’m there?”
The crowd screamed again.
There are scars that'll never ever show themselves
You get when you're left alone too long in Hell
They tried to keep in the secrets that you wouldn't tell
But they just stripped you for parts you had to sell
Noah crouched in front of the crowd, reaching his arms out. He followed down the front, until stopping right in front of me. Arm extended, the body of hands around me grabbing onto his arms, but he left his hand open.
Noah sang into the mic, watching my eyes with every move. I stared up at him with a smile breaking out onto my face.
Well, if I'm there to catch you when you fall
You'll have a friend down in Hell after all
And if you're there to catch me when I fall
Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all
I didn't want to believe how much you needed help
And I just left you to be all by yourself
And now I wish I had seen that you weren't doing well
But I just came back to see how hard you fell
I raised my arm, grabbing onto Noah’s hand, feeling my breath hasten as an immense amount of emotions washed over me. Here I was, being sung to, in front of thousands of people- yet it felt like it was just me and Noah.
His words were for me, and my heart raced, pounding out of my chest as we gazed at each other. He squeezed my hand before letting go, making his way down the rest of the stage.
There was a short intermission, and I felt my phone buzz.
Checking it, I noticed Noah texted.
‘Don’t forget what I said.’
I chuckled, shaking my head as I responded.
‘I’ll be there you dork. You guys sound fucking amazing, you’re killing it.’
Seconds later, Noah responded.
‘Don’t take your eyes off me for this next one.’
My breath hitched in my throat, and the lights dimmed inside the venue again, before the bass began, introducing The Death of Peace of Mind.
My mind began to race again, and as Noah stepped onto the stage, his eyes immediately latched onto me.
I made another mistake, thought I could change
Thought I could make it out
Promises break, need to hear you say
You're gonna keep it now
I miss the way you say my name
The way you bend, the way you break
Your makeup running down your face
The way you touch, the way you taste
When the curtains call the time
Will we both go home alive?
It wasn't hard to realize
Love's the death of peace of mind
You're in the walls that I made with crosses and frames
Hanging upside down
For granted, in vain, I took everything
I ever cared about
Noah never broke eye contact during the entire song. Despite walking across the entire stage, his eyes never left mine- and I refused to let mine leave his.
I miss the way you say my name
The way you bend, the way you break
Your makeup running down your face
The way you fuck, the way you taste
Noah ‘Look at me’ Sebastian let his fingers flow to his lips, taking the shape of a V as he licked between them, the crowd going ballistic. I felt my own stomach begin to churn.
You come and go in waves
Leaving me in your wake
You come and go in waves
Swallowing everything
Are you satisfied?
The crowd screamed again, and once the song finished the introduction to Dethrone began. I motioned over the security, who helped me crawl over the barrier and escorted me away from the crowd. As I headed up the stage and walked behind the curtain, I watched the side view of the performance, the boys thrashing out their last song of the night, all energy put into this song.
Here am I, take me to the pearly gates
So I can look you in the eye when I spit in your face
Here am I, take me to the pearly gates
Don't let 'em hit you on the way out when I take your place
As soon as the song finished they walked off stage, the crowd screaming behind them. All the boys smiled as they passed me, nodding sweatily. Noah on the other hand immediately grabbed me, kissing me firmly.
“Good fucking girl.” He said, smiling as his chest heaved with exhaustion. My face blushed again, especially knowing everyone around us heard his praise.
The crowd was screaming behind us again, and the boys had two minutes to compose themselves before going out to wave and bow. I waited patiently, watching them run out and smile with gratitude at the fans below them, throwing an assortment of picks and guitar sticks.
After a few minutes, the boys came back, and before I could say anything Noah instantly grabbed my wrist, pulling me along with him.
“Where are we going?” I asked, confused, but my insides bubbled with excitement.
“I want you in all the ways you’ll let me have you,” Noah muttered through gritted teeth, sending my heart into a frenzy of nerves. He tugged me through the halls, before finding a door, shoving me into the room.
It appeared to be a smaller version of a green room, the only things inside being a washroom and a couch. Almost like it was placed here just for us.
Locking the door swiftly behind him, Noah led me to the black letter couch sitting down, pulling me onto his lap.
I straddled him, his hands working their way underneath my skirt, gripping at the now-exposed skin.
“You didn’t wear shorts?” Noah moaned, almost instantly hardening at the realization. His tattooed hands ran along the back of my thighs, squeezing periodically, bringing his lips into my neck, biting at the skin gently.
“Do I turn you on that much?” I breathed hastily, closing my eyes, enjoying Noah’s worship over my body. He was fully indulging in me, taking every moment for himself.
“You don’t even fucking know,” he whispered, tugging the shirt off of my body, letting his lips trail across my shoulders, “the only thought I’ve had lately is what it would be like getting to eat you out after performing.”
I smiled at his words, closing my eyes as his lips trailed along my torso, my hips beginning to grind into his. “Are we— are we really going to do this here?”
Noah hummed in response, squeezing me to symbolize a yes.
“Let’s make your thoughts a reality then?” I whispered, and Noah’s eyes leered at me, completely insatiable with hunger.
His hands roamed across my body, and as I rotated on top of him, digging my core into his own, he let out a low groan, body thrusting upwards, slowly.
Noah’s hands pulled away my underwear, leaving me fully exposed underneath my skirt. “God I love the idea of you having nothing on underneath this, such easy access.”
I heard voices passing down the hall, and my head snapped towards the door, chest pounding.
“Th-There are people outside this door—” I said, pushing off Noah slightly, but his inked arms wrapped around me, pulling me back.
“Well, this isn’t about them, is it?” Noah said, chuckling lowly, “Just sit on my fucking face already.”
Noah stayed sitting, but pushed himself deeper into the couch as I crawled up, allowing myself to be right above him, almost hanging over the couch; his breath left a cooling sensation on my skin, and I shuddered in anticipation.
“Spread your legs for me,” Noah demanded, pulling at my thighs.
“Spread them wider,” he said, and I tried, splitting myself completely for his need.
“Noah, please,” I whimpered, my body soaking for him, yet dreaded not being touched.
“Look at you,” he tskd, letting his long fingers rub along my folds, “coming undone before I’ve even started touching you.”
“Please,” I whispered ever so lightly, gripping into the back of the couch.
Noah’s fingers danced around my skin for a moment longer before he explored my body, inviting himself into my space and causing my thighs to desire to squeeze shut; but Noah held a firm grip, forcing me against his mouth. His tongue circulated me, before he sucked, moaning against my sensitive skin.
“Jesus Christ, I love the way you taste,” Noah slapped my behind, squeezing so hard I knew there would be a mark. I winced at the impact, but my body began to convulse against his lips as he assaulted me where I needed him most.
“F-Fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna last long if you keep doing that,” I moaned, rolling myself into his skin, trying to create more friction for my need. One of Noah’s hands left my skin, trailing down towards his cargo pants as he freed himself, and began to touch his own body.
“I want you to fuck me so bad Noah,” I cried, pushing into him desperately as I watched him pleasure his own impulse, slim fingers cascading through his heat.
“You’ll get that once we get home.” He said, panting from beneath me, “I want you to come all over my face.”
My mouth hung open as my orgasm built, ears began to ring. I let out a moan way louder than intended, causing Noah to begin to thrust into his hips, his body twitching with complete craving. His breathing quickened and I felt him struggle against me as I cried out, pushing against him one final time as I came undone, and Noah released all over his taped hand, rubbing out his own desire.
I panted, pulling myself off of his face and down into his lap, sitting on his mess.
“Imagine how amazing you’ll sound when I’m fucking you senseless.” Noah’s eyes were closed as he smiled and tilted his head back in satisfaction, out of breath.
After a moment I pulled him into a kiss, and we whispered praises against one another’s lips, which was met with gentle moans.
“I love getting to know you like this.” He sighed, pulling back to look at me as we heaved together, exhausted.
I smiled at him, pressing my forehead against his own, appreciating what Noah and I had begun to build amongst our friendship.
I kissed him again, softly, my body flushing with heat again, “Will you let me ride you when we get back?”
Noah’s deep October eyes opened with lust, staring me down once again with an immense amount of need. “Only if you moan my name for everyone to hear.”
Oh god help me
#noah sebastian#noah sebastian smut#bad omens x reader#noah sebastian and reader#noah sebastian x reader#noah sebastian fluff#noah sebastian davis#bad omens smut#bad omens band#bad omens#metal#metalcore#heavy metal#smut#I was always yours
426 notes
·
View notes
Note
i’m not sure if anon has already requested a character for that song but if ur up for it CAN WE HAVE THAT SONG WITH JONATHAN CRANE. also i just listened to that song for the first time in like 3 years and got major deja vu lmao 😭
also ps i love u and ur writing !!!
This is related to another ask from an anon, requesting a fic based off of Katy Perry's song, The One That Got Away. I am so sorry to both of you that it's taken me forever to write this, but thank you for your patience and support <3
Now We Pay The Price | Pt. 1
Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader
Word Count: 2.8k
Summary: Life hasn't turned out exactly the way you wanted it to. Isolated and distraught as you watch time slip by while you sit, trapped in Arkham, your only wish is to recapture the way that things used to be.
Warnings: Angst, whump, sexual themes but no explicit smut, mental health themes, obsession, unhealthy relationship dynamics, mention of needles, mention of sedatives, unrequited love, established past romantic relationship, ambiguity
A/N: I hardly ever write angst, so please be gentle with me lol. But with the song inspo, I couldn't help but go in that direction. Slightly nervous to post this, but also happy that I've branched out from my comfort zone a bit!
***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***
Lying on your stomach, feet in the air, you stretched the thin cotton sheets with your hand. Just enough to give them the tension you needed to glide a ballpoint pen over the fabric, scratching over and over the same mark to make it appear complete. This was far from the perfect medium for doodling - but sheets were what you had, and so they were what you used.
Even the pen was contraband. You knew you weren’t supposed to have it. What anyone thought you’d do with it… honestly, you had no idea. As if you could use a pen for anything other than what you were wrapped up in doing now - carefully and determinedly drawing hearts.
You stopped to rest your head for a moment on the pitifully thin pillow. Across the room, blank white concrete stared back at you. Day in, day out. Endless. The same room with the same walls.
Picking up the pen again, you placed the tip right in between the lobes of one of the many hearts. Scratch, scratch, scratch. A messy, zig-zagging line bisected the doodle.
Broken.
You sighed, and started to color a different heart, filling it with blue ink that didn’t seem very inclined to stick to the bed sheets. It was slow going. The deep azure tint reminded you of deoxygenated blood, like you would see in a textbook diagram. Once the heart was completely filled, you moved dutifully on to the next.
A rustling at your door made you jump. Quickly, you stuffed the pen under your pillow, and turned up the sheets to hide your drawings. It wouldn’t be very good for you if anybody saw them.
You sat up, arranging your rumpled jumpsuit as neatly as you could. Leather straps hung off the sides of your bed, and you spared them a glance, bristling at the memories of having them lashed over your body.
The metal door slid open slowly, until you could finally see…
Him. Your heart skipped a beat and a half as he stepped stiffly into the room, pulling the door shut behind him. He didn’t make a show of locking it, but it was still all too hard to miss the way his hand stopped short at the keyhole, before slipping into his pocket.
“Jonathan. I’m so glad-”
“Don’t call me that,” he bristled. “In here, we don’t know each other. Please. You always forget that.”
“...Dr. Crane,” you corrected yourself.
His tone was so bitter that you could feel it in the very back of your throat, trying to claw its way down to your heart. You swallowed, trying to bite back the taste.
“I’m sorry. I was just happy to see you.” You smiled, pushing through your discomfort, for his sake.
Crane was clearly agitated. He took a few steps into the room, before turning around and facing the door. For one brief moment, you couldn’t see his face, until finally he turned back. His eyes were ice as they stared down at you.
“Do you have any idea how difficult you’ve been making things for me?” he spat.
The accusation hurt, of course. Though you knew very well what he meant. You had been acting out, more than usual, as of late. And although it wasn’t without a purpose, you could see that it was wearing him thin. But… how else were you supposed to see each other?
Arkham Asylum wasn’t exactly known for its model patients. It took a lot to get Dr. Crane’s attention.
“If we spent more time together, I wouldn’t be so difficult,” you replied, trying to keep your tone even.
Crane pinched the bridge of his nose, in that way that you were well acquainted with. He’d always had that habit. Back when you’d first met, you had loved making him get frustrated - just enough for a laugh. Some things never changed.
“You’re really backing me into a corner,” Crane sighed. “And I really wish you wouldn’t.”
“Let’s talk,” you offered, patting the bed. “That’s what you’re here for, right?”
Crane, reluctantly, sat down. You could sense his exhaustion in the way that he almost collapsed onto the bed, hands gripping the edge for support. You inched a bit closer, enough so that your knees touched briefly. Crane pulled away.
You wanted to reach out; put a hand on his shoulder, just like you’d done so many times before. He used to like it when you touched him. Sometimes, you liked to think that yours was the only gentle embrace that he had ever known. Maybe it was silly, but the thought of it always made you feel better.
Now, Crane’s eyes held nothing but menace as he glared over at you, as if you were a stain on the bed sheets. You wondered, vaguely, what had happened to change things.
So much. So much that had led you to this place, where you could be so close to him and yet felt more separated than ever.
“I hate to say it, Doc, but I think I’m going crazy in here,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.
He barely had a reaction; a deep sigh the only hint that he’d heard what you said at all.
“And why do you think that is?” he asked, finally.
The psychiatrist in him always came through to shove even more distance between you. Like a shield, put up just when you’d started to press through the fog of tension that hung heavy in the room. You swallowed your frustration at being kept out, and tried to answer him honestly.
“Because I barely get to see you,” you replied.
That was the wrong answer, and Crane’s shoulders swung abruptly to face you.
He was scary like this. Almost scary, anyway. If you didn’t know him better, the look in his eyes would have sent you cowering.
But you did know him, so well, and you remembered with sudden clarity that he’d always been bothered by feeling inadequate. You felt awful; you hadn’t meant to imply that he wasn’t doing enough.
“I’m sorry,” you soothed, before he could say anything. “I know that you’re busy, but-”
“But you continue to make yourself into a problem,” he hissed. “You know the only reason you’re in here instead of rotting away over at Blackgate is because of me, right?”
You nodded, too shocked by embarrassment to speak.
“Then for my sake, why don’t you act like it?”
“I’m…” You paused for a moment, sharp tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m just… lost without you,” you whispered. “You know that. I always told you I would be.”
The first tear fell, and you tried to hide your face.
“Don’t cry,” Crane sighed.
You could hear the harsh tinge of annoyance in his voice, and wished that it was anything else. Even his pity would have been better than knowing that your feelings were now nothing but inconvenience. You choked on your own throat, trying to stifle a sob.
“Please don’t cry,” he mumbled, slightly softer this time.
But now that you’d started, you couldn’t make yourself stop. If anything, the tears were only coming faster, and you felt yourself start to shrink into your own chest. The little black pit that always seemed to sit there, now swiftly opening up to swallow you.
With a deep and lingering exhale, Crane pulled you close. Suddenly, you were back where you both had been, so many years ago: one person’s cheek pressed into the other’s shoulder. Tears soaking into fabric that seemed to be stained with sadness. You let out a half-laugh, half-sob, and nestled into the crook of his neck.
“Remember when I used to do this for you?”
Crane stiffened slightly beside you.
“Things have changed since then,” he muttered.
Your memory suddenly flashed back to the first time he had used the words “dysfunctional attachment” to describe you. That had hurt worse than anything else. Even more than all of the other occasions to come, when you’d heard those same words and worse fall from his lips. They could never truly compare to that first time, when your whole world had come crashing abruptly to the ground.
His arm dropped away from you, but you kept your face pressed into his shoulder.
“Things haven’t really changed,” you said. “I still belong to you.”
“You don’t.”
Two words that stung worse than hundreds of needles. You tried to pretend that the wind hadn’t been knocked out of you, as you replied.
“I do. And I will. Always.”
You looked up at him with wet eyes, a trace of the old life that you’d shared together still evident deep within your pupils. Even if only the memories of it lived inside of you, they still lived. They were still something.
“You need to move on,” Crane said flatly. “I know it’s not easy in here, with me…” He sighed. “I did what I could to protect you, but maybe it would have been better if I had just stayed out of your case. Blackgate would have at least given you distance.”
“I don’t want distance,” you whispered. “I just want to be with you.”
“You can’t be.”
Always so stubborn.
“I could be, if you’d help me get out.”
Confusion flashed across Crane’s face, quickly replaced with raw terror.
“Escape Arkham?” His eyebrows furrowed, nearly knitting together. “You can’t be serious. Do you even realize what-?”
“I know, I know,” you hummed. “But just think - we could run away together, just like we always talked about.”
“Stop.”
“Don’t you remember? We promised-”
“Things. Change.” Crane’s voice almost shook as it thundered.
You brought a hand up to his face, gently coaxing until he looked at you.
“But they don’t have to,” you breathed.
Your eyes drifted down to your wrist, to the space just below your thumb, and over the little tattoo that was etched into your skin. A heart - just like the ones littering your blanket, hidden carefully from Crane’s view.
“Remember when you gave me this?” you asked, holding up the tattoo in front of him.
“No; I remember you doing that to yourself.”
“At first, sure,” you chuckled. “But then, you helped me to finish it, ‘cause-”
“Because I didn’t want you to hurt yourself,” Crane muttered. “Just like you always seem to. Even now.”
You ignored his remark as your hands drifted down to collect one of his pale wrists, then lifted up to your face. The sleeve of his suit jacket slipped back, revealing the spot where once, long ago, you had given him the same mark. Just with a felt-tip pen; he would have never allowed you, even back then, to deface his own body in the same way you had yours.
At the time, the impermanence of it hadn’t seemed to matter. You’d been too distracted; elated by the way that his and your matching blossoms of ink had pressed up against each other as you’d held hands.
Now, you pressed a kiss to the blank space.
“Us against the world, Jonathan. Remember?”
Suddenly, his fingers pressed into your face, digging into the sides of your chin as he forced you back into focus.
“Don’t call me that,” he warned, once again. “How many times do I have to tell you? That life doesn’t exist in here.”
Your hands still dangled from his wrist as he continued to crush your jaw, not letting you look away. But this was the one part of him that you didn’t want to face. The part that didn’t need you anymore.
“Jonathan. You know the reason I’m in here, don’t you?”
“Are you asking if I know about your case? All of the crimes you committed?” he huffed. “Because yes - I was very involved in the trial, and it was nearly impossible to keep everyone else in the dark about…”
Us was the word that he couldn’t bring himself to say.
“That’s not what I mean,” you said. “I mean, do you know why I did those things?”
“Stop - please don’t tell me this again.”
“I did them for you,” you cried, your emotions getting the better of you again. “I do everything for you. So don’t you dare pretend you don’t need me, when really the only fucking reason you’re not stuck in here with me is because I always-”
“Stop.”
Crane’s hands tore away to grab you by the shoulders, wrenching you back to reality. Somehow he always managed to do that. To pull you straight out of the riptide, just as it was about to sweep you away.
“I never asked you to do what you did,” he hissed, articulating each word between clenched teeth.
“But I did it anyway,” you spat. “Because you always get into trouble. Because I told you I’d be there for you, no matter what. And because I always keep promises.”
“I don’t need you to anymore.” Crane’s hands squeezed you uncomfortably. “I don’t - I didn’t need you to ruin your life for me.”
“My life isn’t ruined if it’s for you.”
“Jesus Christ…”
Crane’s hand came up to rake through his hair, but before he could pull away fully, you caught him. Fingers clenched tight to the front of his suit, you pulled back and forced him to fall with you. Your back hit the bed, and Crane scrambled to catch himself before his full weight could slam into you. His body perched just above yours, caging you in his arms.
“This. You must remember this.”
Your words were a whisper, barely loud enough to pass from your lips to his ear, despite how close he was. Your legs frantically came up to tug at his waist, trying to force him closer.
“This was the only time I felt alive,” you continued. “When we were like this. You remember.”
How could he not? You could still live in that moment, if you tried hard enough. As if it had been only yesterday. Both of you nervous and fumbling, nearly falling off of the bed as he hovered over you and you clung to him.
The way that your bodies had melted together, almost desperately, in a way that had made you feel certain that neither one of you would let go. Letting go then had meant something worse than death; it meant a life that dragged on without you and him together.
The stale echoes of passion still rang in your ears as you looked up, silently begging for him to rekindle the spark that had been there.
Crane’s expression was all but impossible to read. His face half-hidden beneath bangs that fell into his eyes. The two-second pause was like a lifetime as you awaited his answer.
“Of course I remember.”
Your heart soared, flying recklessly up.
“But that doesn’t mean it’s the same now.”
Broken. Smashed hard against the cold floor of your cell.
“I don’t believe that,” you breathed. “I can’t. I-”
“You need to,” he interrupted. “Because it’s the truth.”
You stayed stock still on the mattress as Crane briskly pushed himself up, disentangling himself from your limbs. He exhaled as he tugged at his jacket, trying to make himself presentable.
You weren’t sure how he could find the nerve, after ripping your whole world apart.
“I’m upping the dose on your sedatives,” he informed you, still not meeting your gaze. “But I would prefer if you could find it within yourself to behave so that I don’t have to. I don’t like to do this, but-”
“Appearances…” Your voice drifted through the room. “Have to be kept up.”
He had told you as much, probably dozens of times. Just like he’d told you the old life between you no longer mattered, or even existed. If it ever had.
“I’m glad you understand,” he said shortly.
His back was already turned, but you looked up to watch him drift out of the room, quickly pocketing the keys on his way out.
Your head fell back, hard, but the sensation did nothing to ground you. You felt all too lost and adrift; trapped in a situation you had created. This wasn’t how things were supposed to end up.
Your hand drifted silently under the pillow, and wrapped around the barrel of the pen that was still hidden there.
Suddenly, grotesque understanding of all the reasons why no one would want you to have such a thing flooded into your consciousness. The possibilities were many and bleak, but they all led back to the same conclusion. It was just like you had told Crane earlier.
If your life together didn’t exist in this place, then the only solution was to leave.
You smiled. With resolve swirling dangerously inside your veins, you vowed to make sure that nothing like this ever happened again. You were going to be together, no matter what.
There would be no getting away.
This fic now has a Part 2! Read it HERE
193 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hiiiii can u write Kim Dokja x Goth!Male!reader this sponsor constellation is Apollo and The reader is a simp for Dokja ( I love this man )
LOVE LIKE BLOOD ・゜゜KIM DOKJA
“The life is short, and I’m running faster all the time,
Strength and beauty destined to decay,
So cut the rose in full bloom.”
By chance you meet him, by chance you become his friend, by chance you stay by his side; until it cannot be called fickle, capricious chance any longer, but an example of the inevitable law of universal attraction between two starving masses.
art by @ 1L9l2Aa8UCL0IGJ (blackbox) on x! also thank you anon this ask was so big brained I yapped on for like 5k words (very sorry if you wanted headcanon/drabble form I got the most profound inspiration for this at like 3am :3) also damn you have no idea how many song titles I was perusing trying to find a suitable one for this...
pairing: kim dokja + male goth reader
warnings: pretty graphic metaphors, child abandonment/implied parental death, child neglect + abuse, alcohol, smoking, depression + bullying, hurt/comfort, injury, violence (as it's orv), does 10+ year long pining and oddly tense homoeroticism need a warning, anon I hope you ENJOY reading because I enjoyed writing
wc: 5.6k (YAP because i love this silly man, I've never written so much for a request before lmao)
ORV MASTERLIST
MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION
Fundamentally, you and him are the same.
There’s a sense of loss that’s too heavy for either of your bodies to comprehend. Rather than a heart, there’s a black hole right where the organ lies; so greedy, so hungry for acknowledgement. Born blue into this world—deprived of oxygen yet wailing, screaming for your voice to be heard—it’s little wonder you’ve always been avaricious for the love your parents could never give. The hands cradling the babe were never loving; they were clinical, they were covered in sterile blue gloves and they smelled only of caustic antiseptic. There was no kiss on your slimy, puckered forehead. There was only the sting of alcoholic sanitiser.
Kim Dokja is similar, yet his parents wouldn’t (rather than couldn’t, for in your embittered mind the two concepts were so different as to be alien) spare him scraps of care. Rather than press a kiss to their son’s awaiting cheek, only bruises blossomed where the love should’ve been. No flowers were given for Children’s Day—only oily blood spilling and macerating against his chubby hands as a last, vibrant gift for their son.
These two black holes sputtered on their axes while they spun round each other: gluttonous, esurient for care that didn’t come with bruises and wailing grief.
Seoul had been unusually cold; blue afternoons spanned across the school rooftops. They were frigid and foggy—perfect for avoiding detection. Thus, the boy without kisses (only contused skin) encountered another like him on the rooftop that day. Against the haze, your own cigarette smoke had dulled the edges of what he saw—a boy canted against the railing with rippling earphones and a head tilted so far back he could taste the polluted mist.
A merger had occurred.
And though neither of you said it, there was an unspoken recognition of each other’s greed in that moment. Your eyes, ghosting over his injuries while the heavy bass played and the prussic wisps trailed around him: deep reverberations sounding a bit too like his careening heartbeat—as he made sure no one had followed him up here, that he was safe. And his umbrous eyes—honed in on the cigarette wedged between your lips, now stained black from the gloss decorating your humourless smile.
Maybe it was just that inherent feeling of kinship that came with avariciousness: a snarling sort of camaraderie that snagged at your skin with its claws. The wounds left behind were tender, but tender was precisely the adjective you were looking for—as was he.
And so, Kim Dokja found himself coming to this particular rooftop the next day. When his breathing came ragged and his vision began to swim, he instinctively sought the numbness the frigid azurine firmament would bring. Like a wounded animal, he sought safety. Flight over fight—a lesson he’d learnt too late. Bruised fists would never save him.
There you sat—eyes closed and lips still glossed in modest black. There were silver rings on your hands; rings he’d seen flashing before his eyes before he was hit, that those people no longer sported. Quietly, he matched up the scrapes on your own knuckles to the ones decorating their faces: to their unusual sullenness today. They’d furtively sequestered themselves in a club room all break, touching their swollen lips and eyes with bruised fists. Bruised fists. Like trophies, the achromatic metal glinted against the cobalt haze, and for once, his heart didn’t skip any beats at the sight of the gleaming metal. Neither did you acknowledge his presence nor their sins, but still, he sat on the same bench you were sprawled upon: hugging his bag to his chest while he scrolled the hallowed pixels of Ways of Survival.
There was no grand exchange of words, no heartfelt conversations between Kim Dokja and the boy with a messed-up uniform.
This was how tentative company was kept for a fragile week.
Tuesday was the day that fragility finally shattered. He still remembers every detail about it—down to the particular cigarette brand you’d purchased that morning, down to the chips in your dark nail polish, down to just how many rings you’d worn on your left hand (three—it was three rings). Tears had spilled down his cheeks that afternoon; they warped and distorted the words that had saved him thus far, evoked from the pain in his purple ribs and his empty stomach. Somehow, the salt he’d kept tightly bound had been coaxed by your cold presence—perhaps, knowing your indifference made it easier to cry pathetically in front of you.
You still didn’t speak, but you did hand him a tissue. You still didn’t speak, but you did press your shoulder to his own trembling one: smelling of caustic smoke, and something rich and sweet lingering beneath the plumes. You still didn’t speak, but your rings clinked on your left hand as you unhooked the earbud in your pierced ear and offered it to him: fingers brushed against his palm as he was forcibly shocked out of crying any further, like a blubbering child faced with such a conundrum that their little brains focused entirely on that rather than the reason for their tears.
Melancholy had streamed out of the device. Doleful chords twined against threnetic voices—which he could not translate nor understand but could feel in pulsing waves.
In that short whorl in the great machine of time, in the chill of the blue hour, he could not help but feel warm.
And thus, that Tuesday changed the trajectory of this merger somewhat. A deafening hum had finally blossomed from the gargantuan event; your presence could no longer be described as distant.
When he went to class the next day, you were in the seat next to him: a mirage brought on by his lack of food, no doubt. He limped to his desk, but there your corporeal form remained: this time with silver chains lining the base of your throat and a dry, sharp grin decorating your face. Sure, he knew there was a student that never showed up in his class, but he wasn’t expecting it to be you: your name now a permanent fixture in his mind.
There was a new name for this phenomenon: friendship.
The boy, with the pensive music and trophies stolen from Dokja’s tormentors, smiled up at the reader staring at him. It was an inviting gesture: the proverbial hand reaching out, the hand which he took.
You weren’t a particularly talkative friend at first: preferring to simply share your music rather than speak much. That was fine with him—it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to reading alone. Then, you started bringing boxes of food alongside your cigarettes: containers that lacked the refinement of store bought meals. One for you, and one sheepishly thrust out to him with a smile bright as burst yolk and as messy as it too. Consequently, he returned a wobbly, unsure smile back at you—not mentioning that the vegetables were slightly burnt, slightly too salty. But that was fine. The more lunches you brought, the more skilled your hands became—until he never felt truly full unless he was eating what you gave him.
In return, he cracked open his soul: pried its rusted walls with bleeding fingernails in a gesture never before seen, not since his childhood when he still knew what hope meant. Dokja for once didn’t blubber apologies and pleas for mercy—but became a teenager rather than a groveller. He complained about teachers, he discussed Ways of Survival at length (noting how you listened even when you showed no particular interest in reading it), he finally developed his own, modest aspirations for his own life. Lying in his bed in his lonely apartament, it suddenly didn’t feel so claustrophobic (yet somehow far too big for one) when you were there with your shoulder just brushing his own.
You were not as cold as you seemed: though this was always obvious from that fateful Tuesday. You made fun of and empathised with the eternal regressor; you diligently stood at his half-broken stove frying meat and vegetables; and you talked at length about whatever band you were currently into—“I’ll take you to one of their concerts when we’re older,” leaving your lips, for your dense black-hole hearts did not conceptualise a future where the other was not present. He saw your loneliness—heard the rumours of you bouncing around from orphanage to orphanage, roaming the streets and working nights rather than return to that boreal home.
So, more nights than not, he woke up from his nightmares to see you sleeping on the small couch in his home—legs just about peeking over the armrest, for your avarice didn’t only cover the abstract but the heaps of food you swiped from the canteen (and over the past two years he’d known you, you got your growth spurt far more obviously than he had). It partly contributed to almost skittish aversion his tormentors had of him—one you never did acknowledge, and so he learnt quickly to not mention it either. In this way, he too never mentioned why he invited you to sleep over more nights than not. And so, neither of your selfish hearts ever spoke a word of pity, but rather conveyed an unspoken understanding that bound the two of you in this merger.
This routine continued.
He enlisted after graduating from the local university, and so did you—suffering the eighteen months of hazing with the smoke lingering on your skin and that same, humourless smile he first saw on your face. Frigid mornings turned his own lips as blue as the sky, yet he found it was harder to feel the chill when he saw you. Just like back then, you wore the same smile that brimmed with such colour it was practically incandescent with its heat.
Two outcasts. It was hilariously terrible. Two outcasts, still sharing a pair of earbuds that had seen better days—blaring out the dolorous music that had grown on him, that described this situation perfectly. Stars were strewn in the fabric enveloped around you: memories that would continue to shine even after the world slowly marched towards its apocalypse.
In that cramped bunkroom, it had been just like school—blue nights with the moon just barely peeking through the window, with your leg still hanging off the side of the bunk and within his field of vision. And he still found the steady rise and fall of your breathing far more comforting than any white noise: like a guard dog, almost, you still shielded him by his proximity to you throughout the brutal eighteen months of mandated service.
Adulthood had crept up unbidden. In his single-room apartment, he sat on his couch with your legs sprawled just as lazy as they had been eight years prior. Though, your appearance certainly had changed—beneath the loose material of your tank top, he could see the ink seeping and decorating your skin. He’d gone with you to the underground artists right after the discharge: worriedly biting his lip while you simply grinned at him as if there wasn’t a needle pressing into you. And despite his initial concern, he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away—sneaking glances even as he browsed through job sites since the winding patterns under the fabric and silver jewellery was oddly entrancing to the eye.
In the end, he applied to the same company you had done on a whim: Minosoft, where you carefully wiped off the black residue on your lips and the smudged pencil round your eyes. You still shared your earbud with him on the subway (though you’d sent him your playlist aeons ago), you still smoked the same brand you did eight years ago, you still occasionally put on those rings you’d kept as prized trophies, you still made two sets of lunches for work. You still listened over drinks while hammered Dokja updated you on the latest update of Ways of Survival. You still angled your body just so, so that you would bear the brunt of Han Myungoh’s scolding rather than him.
You hadn’t changed.
But in some ways, he could no longer see the same boyish guy who’d awkwardly offered him his earbuds nine years ago. The look in your eyes was far more intense, the messy smiles splitting your cheeks were sharper, more overwhelming, and there was no longer any clumsiness in your movements from your sudden growth spurt from years prior. Even the very hand that occasionally clasped his shoulder, even the legs that you still casually flung over his on his beaten old couch, were far more scorching than he remembered.
You had changed.
And in the end, it was him who was left behind.
Eternal loser, Kim Dokja.
Though, he could never find fault with you for that. Not when you leaned over the tangle of limbs on his couch, not when he caught the thread of oud lingering beneath the smoke on your throat, and not when you thrust your phone screen at his face with that stupidly boyish grin that only peeked out when you brimmed with excitement—with a “look, I finally got us tickets for this festival!”. And he knew at that moment that you weren’t leaving him behind: stretching out your rough palm just like you had more than a decade ago.
He let you tousle his hair to give it more spikes. He let you dress him up in your clothes—they sat too large on his frame, but he found himself unconsciously burying his body in the fabric that smelled like your laundry. He let you slip your rings onto his fingers: slender digits jolting at the sensation of the cool metal and the action itself.
Finally, he let you rub your dark pencil on his lashline—lids fluttering up at yours while he did his best to not avert his stare. His gaze traced the bold lines of your brows and eyes, and finally onto the dark stain on your lips as you bit them in concentration. “There,” you’d murmured, gently grasping his chin. “That looks pretty.”
And just like the loser he was, he felt his chest tighten at the casual compliment, for seemingly no reason.
Over the din of the hall, he could barely hear the ebb and flow of music. Goth chords jostled him, weaving past the throes of post-punk and metal as band after band took the stage. In this crush of people, he was more focused on how your index finger threaded through his left-most belt loop; linking the two of you just enough that he wouldn’t get thrown into the mosh pit. No doubt the buzz of cheap liquor contributed to his distracted train of thoughts—he never was the best at handling alcohol. His hazy gaze distorted his view of your side profile; in the dim lights, obviously the wide smile (yolk-like, as was your grin years back) couldn’t possibly be that bright.
It was at this moment that sentimentality got to him. He was thankful that his friend had stuck by his side for so long: gazing so softly at your happy expression he was unaware of his look himself.
This was the night before the apocalypse began.
When the crowds trickled out, when the reverb of bass still played through the club, you hugged him tight for coming with you. Outcast with the outcast, you’d thought introspectively. There were cheap spirits clouding your mind that night—a hangover would surely strike you come morning—which was why you weren’t as reserved as you usually were. As you leaned down to press the man into your arms, your lips had brushed past his cheek accidentally, and you could feel the black hole in the centre of your chest constrict.
Profanities had whirled through your mind when the dark smudge remained on his cheek, and especially so as he made no move to wipe the umbrous gloss off on the subway back. Or maybe he just hadn’t noticed—not with the flush on his cheeks from the alcohol in his system. There was a terrible, discordant crescendo to your pulse as you gazed at him. The gloss, from where it smeared slightly past the boundaries of your lips, burned your skin. But you made no moves to wipe the corners either—for this night only, there was something linking Kim Dokja to you.
Thus, for the first time since he was a mere babe cradled in his mother’s arms, there was a kiss planted on his cheek that wasn’t from a fist. An accidental one, but one that could not be considered devoid of affection. And though neither of you remembered it after the hazy stupor faded, it did not change the fact that it happened nonetheless.
A small snippet of joy in the bleak landscape. A caesura found within the long, winding elegy of this world. A reprieve before tragedy.
It was a fitting conclusion for the night before the end.
✦ . ⁺
[The free service has now been terminated.]
Back in the carriage, wedged between Yoo Sangah and Kim Dokja, the two of you had shared a glance confirming the unspoken truth. Minds intrinsically linked together—he did not need to speak for you to understand his thoughts immediately. And Yoo Sangah had recognised this—as did she remember the devoted gleam in your eyes whenever you spoke to or of the man seated adjacent to you. Yet ultimately, her lips would remain closed.
When the scenarios began, it was Kim Dokja’s turn to repay you. He would be your shield moving forward—protecting your messy smile even as the world burned away. He vowed this to himself, and though the promise was heard only by him, it did not change the fact that the constellations watching him and his companions could see the oath brimming from him as he put you first.
[Almighty Sun has sponsored you.]
Even when Apollo chose you as his incarnation, even when you were just as capable as you had been before the cataclysm occurred—he could not help but feel his fists clench as you put yourself in danger.
“Hold on,” you’d murmured, rings flashing as you’d caught his wrist in your firm grasp. Even with his coins improving his stats, he still felt so much weaker than you—still the boy who ran to the rooftops while your fists bruised against the faces of those who tormented him.
Had your touch always been so scalding?
Privately, he thought Apollo had chosen the right person—smile bright as the sun, skilled fingers deft enough to play the electric guitar you’d bought on a whim, presence practically a healing balm for his soul.
“You’re injured, Dokja-ya.” And the words had made him shiver as the syllables ghosted over his flesh—your face was too close to his chest where he’d been slashed by a monster, while the affectionate tone added to his name made this situation far worse than it was. Secluded like this, in an abandoned corner of the station, it was easy to misread the situation; this was the only reason his face flushed red. His friend was far too close. When those aforementioned fingertips brushed over the wound—just grazing the wounded flesh—he jolted. From the pain, of course.
[The Demon-like Judge of Fire has sponsored 200 coins.]
[The Demon-like Judge of Fire would like to see more action.]
“Steady.” You eased him against a pillar while ignoring the message—ignoring how your pulse was now leaden in your mouth, how the golden gleam stitching flesh back together seemed far more shaky than usual. Though, you couldn’t ignore the pain you felt as you saw the rise and fall of his torso grow shallow; you were useless when it counted—arrows meeting their target far too late.
“Dokja-ya,” you breathed, sweeping the hair that plastered to his clammy forehead. He didn’t meet your eyes, and the heavy feeling in your chest grew more burdensome. He was supposed to tell you what was wrong; as his best friend, you duly heard his complaints and dealt with them where you could. More often than not, you could intuitively tell what bothered him; much like you had from the very first day you saw him all those years ago. And as time passed, the object of your adoration only grew easier to read.
But he was never avoidant like this.
What happened? As you watched him leave with heavy steps and not a glance spared back, you could feel the crushing weight of the sky drop back down on your shoulders. Fuck. Burying your face in your hands, you barely registered the message that popped up.
[The Demon-like Judge of Fire expresses her sympathy.]
[The Demon-like Judge of Fire says she knows how the two of you can make up.]
[The Demon-like Judge of Fire sponsors 69 coins.]
[The Almighty Sun tells the Demon-like Judge of Fire to not be stingy.]
[The Almighty Sun sponsors 6969 coins.]
[The Almighty Sun empathises with a lover’s quarrel.]
“Shut up,” you seethed, and the bad mood carried on late into the night. It was obvious to anyone with eyes; the conjured lamps lining the perimeter of camp had seethed with you. Gold had been interspersed with bleeding red—crackling like true fire, though it was anything but. Even the tattoos that lined your skin had begun eroding into ember-like patterns, as though lava was breaking through the dermis of your skin.
Unsurprisingly, it was Yoo Sangah that had approached first: past the harsh glow of your lamps, gracefully weaving through the brightness with the light steps that belied her nebula. She’d taken a glance at the incandescent splintering of your body, your hands furiously working away at the guitar plugged into your practically-bulletproof earphones, and finally the imposing frame of Yoo Joonghyuk only a few metres away as he stood guard tonight.
But when you paused, when you hastily yanked the buds from your ears, she could also see the wobble in your lip. The furrow in your brows wasn’t angry, it was anguished, while the fearsome glare in your eyes contained only pain. If she was being honest, it was hard to approach you at work and even nowadays—with ease, you picked off enemies from a distance and your longbow conveniently morphed into two curved daggers when it came down to it. You were a maelstrom with the capacity to take lives—stained with blood as you bared your proverbial teeth at any threats to Dokja. But it was precisely that that allowed her to see your stupidly blind adoration of this man.
(“Your devotion will only hurt you,” she says, as if that will dissuade you. You’ll take whatever feeling he gives you: greedily swallowing each and every morsel of emotion. Tender is your heart, but tender is good. It means you aren’t going mad over the situation you’re in.
“Yoo Sangah, I appreciate the advice,” you reply politely—you do respect her, after all. “But I do not mind that.”)
Yoo Joonghyuk had bemusedly watched as she left: staring the the dim red tattoos strewn across your body as if they could possibly help him decipher the fool in front of him. His Sage’s Eye flashed as golden as your lamps for a brief moment—detecting that your statement had, in fact, been true.
Fool, he’d said as your hands flew over the fretboard once more. Fool, as you disappeared up the stairs to the rooftop. Fool, when your lips had pressed together tightly against one another.
You did mind, even when you thought it was the unequivocal truth that you didn’t.
Maybe it was futile to even think it, but he thought that idiot didn’t deserve the long-standing care in your hands, and the veneration in the timbres of your voice. It was pointless to get attached to someone like that—especially when the end of the world was upon you.
But you wouldn’t know that, since you could not read his mind. But you wouldn’t know that, since he would never explicitly say it. But you wouldn’t know that, since you’d long-since accepted your self-torture as perfectly and utterly a part of what came with knowing Kim Dokja for as long as you did.
The rooftop was like all other rooftops. Similar. The same. Azurine fog was at your fingertips: just like that day all those years ago. Except this time, Kim Dokja was not in your sights, and you were left alone with wisps of smoke trailing from your lips and no other company save the glowing stick in your fingers. Just like it had been; before you met the boy with a heart as greedy and all-consuming as yours. Before the merger between two black holes occurred. Before he ran up to the rooftops with bruises on his face and placed new stars in the endless vacuum of your universe.
There was no charge in your phone, but the song that played that day still rested heavy in your neurons as you sprawled out on the bench. Mindlessly, you summoned the lyre-turned-guitar: doleful chords germinated, flourished and withered away once more under distressed fingertips. It was a night between scenarios; another caesura in this ceaseless tragedy. Though those days were filled with an empty stomach and an endless struggle, they were your halcyon days.
Just like that time almost twelve years back, it was a blue Monday once more.
Just like that time almost twelve years back, you didn’t hear the heavy run of footsteps through the heavy burr of music.
Just like that time almost twelve years back, Kim Dokja’s black hole heart pulsed with each discordant twang of chords—though this time the link was acutely clear to him.
The boy who once tasted the mist and tilted his body into oblivion was no longer there: replaced by a man who’d faithfully stayed by him for more than a decade. Though you hadn’t changed, not at all; not when he could still see the rings you took off his bullies, gracing your fingers just as they had back then. A trophy, dedicated to his protection. When his plans involved his sacrifice, you were the first to reach him. Your face was the first he saw, tears brimming from your lash line. For despite how you’d grown into your looks, you wore your emotions clear on your face. Your heart had been taken from the cavity in your chest and replaced with a dense core that greedily always wanted; yet it had been sewn messily onto your sleeve rather than discarded.
Kim Dokja suddenly remembered another interlude. A club, where the amorphous ebb and flow of bodies could not sweep him away from your side—since you kept him there, treasured his presence enough that you hooked your finger firmly into his belt loop and rooted him there. An anchor: you’ve always been the rock beneath his shaky feet, after all. He remembered that, and not the endless churn of music that made your face glow with happiness.
(A black smear of gloss left on his cheek. His hands, carefully wiping eye pencil away yet not touching the remnants of your lips—not until it smudged away on its own, forgotten for all of time but this day.)
A sun of his own. The reader trod his slow orbit around you long before he could conceptualise the gravity that drew two masses towards each other. Newton’s theory of universal gravitation be damned; you were the only centre of the universe, the only body that ever existed to draw others towards your brilliant light.
His eyes flickered over the smoke in your lips: the dim embers of a glow from the lines in your skin made it seem as though you were alight yourself. Instinctively, physically, he was compelled towards the patterns just like he had been all those years ago: your music, your stupid piercings and your stupid discussions about bands and the stupid way you listened attentively to his yapping about Ways of Survival. Stupid, because why did you do that? Why did you convince him to make a shrine for you in his heart? Stupid, because why is it only now that he can see what exactly lays atop the stone altar?
“Kim Dokja,” you spoke through your plumes, formal in the way he knew you spoke when you were upset and trying to keep it together. He swallowed, and he could feel the same pitter-patter of his pulse as he did all those years ago—heartbeat colliding loudly in his ear drums while he steps towards you, unsure. You didn’t let up with the strum of strings: electric in the drizzle of rain and wind and cold Seoul air.
For once, he was the one looking down at your impassive face. He was the one brushing his fingers through your hair, he was the one whose hands made themselves comfortable on shoulders—for it’s always been you wrapped around him, you whose legs wedge on top of his domestically on his shitty couch in his shitty studio flat.
“It’s Dokja-ya,” he corrected: tongue thick and leaden. It constricted his larynx and made his cadence oh so small at this moment. Tentative. Because he was your close friend and you his. He was the one who knows all your expressions—even the ones you deliberately tried to hide from everyone. He was the one who’s been with you the longest: always staring up at the muscle of your back while you act as his shield. He was the one who’s been blind.
Your fingers halted against the strings and the instrument dissolved into the wind; the concert for two had reached its conclusion, just like it had all those months ago. For despite being packed full of people, the club only ever had two people in it for him.
Lazily, those same hands that have bruised for him—but somehow had a touch that was far more painful than any torment that was physically inflicted on him—wrapped round his own that rested neatly on your shoulders.
“Dokja-ya,” you answered, and the axis the world tilted on is finally righted. This man, Dokja thought—and his umbrous eyes traced down the warm lines of your face, stopping on your lips. Bittersweet.
“Don’t leave me,” he all but begged—voice only a whisper. Don’t die on me, the black hole wanted to say instead; selfishly wishing for you to always be by his side so he doesn’t see you depart this world first. That would end him more than anything else.
“I can’t leave you,” you murmured, and oh, the hand brushing his tear-stained cheek suddenly made more sense. “Dokja-ya, I should be telling you that.”
He pressed his face into your warm palm—scorching even with the boreal damp settling over his skin. There was something twisted within him that revels in your admission: that you, too, feared him abandoning you just as he feared you leaving him behind.
“Idiot.” And he twined his fingers in yours, seeing the surprise on your face bloom—for he’s already established that you’re ever so easy to read. Idiot, because it’s ludicrous to even think that he’d ever willingly walk away from you like that.
“You’re the idiot,” you whispered as your phantasmal hand ghosted from his cheek to his collar, yanking him so he fell onto the firm sprawl of your legs—in a way he’s never felt. So warm, he thought through the haze as he straddled your languid body—fit so right against you that there was none of the tension nor the anticipation that he might’ve felt. His hands splayed out onto your chest, feeling the steady beat of your heart, tracing the glowing lines he adored on your body.
So warm, he thought as your hands gently cupped his face—for you’ve never been anything but soft with this stupid man perched on your lap.
So warm, as your lips met his and he melted into your body. He could taste the acrid smoke on your tongue, but he could also taste the food you’d prepared earlier for him, and the traces of whiskey you’d scavenged. All traces of you; his insatiable heart could not help but want to merge into you.
So warm, as your tongue melded against his and he could feel the seam of his mouth against yours grow ever more ragged and messy. His hands desperately curled into your shirt, and he could feel your palms pressing harshly against his waist and canting his torso into yours more—something which his avaricious heart eagerly swallowed.
On a blue Monday just like this one, two boys met for the first time once more on a rooftop just like this one.
Again. Like and like created a merger for the second time, or perhaps it was already the third. Or fourth. Or the thousand-eight-hundred-and-sixty-third time this has happened—over and over and over and over.
Fate has a funny way of bringing people together, or maybe it’s just the intrinsic law of gravitation that binds two black holes in a binary system.
Blue Monday. What a silly notion, when the man beneath Kim Dokja is as warm as the brilliant sun.
✦ . ⁺
Fellas is it gay to pine after your best friend for over ten years and have oddly homoerotic moments with them
✦ . ⁺
EXTRAS
[The Demon-like Judge of Fire returns from her work and asks what she missed.]
[The Almighty Sun keeps his lips shut.]
[The Abyssal Flame Black Dragon stays silent.]
[The Prisoner of the Golden Headband, perhaps not fearing his imminent hair loss, opens his mouth.]
[The Demon-like Judge of Fire promptly goes catatonic and explodes.]
#slowd1ving#res ･ﾟ writing#x reader#male reader#omniscient reader's viewpoint#omniscient reader's viewpoint x reader#orv#orv x reader#orv x male reader#orv kdj#orv yjh#yoo joonghyuk#orv spoilers#yjh#kdj#kdj x reader#kdj x male reader#ask slowd1ving#request#anon request#THANK YOU ANON#BRO I NEEDED AN EXCUSE TO YAP ABOUT THIS MAN#kim dokja#kim dokja x reader#reader x kim dokja
143 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! For the 1,000 followers event, I’d like to request #2 off the drunk prompt list! Melodrama by Lorde vibes. I love Luffy, Sanji, and Zoro! Thank u!!! 😋💖
Zoro x prompt 2 (drunk prompts) - "i’ve alway thought you were th’prettiest person around.”
hi! thanks for requesting this <3 i chose to go with zoro for this one cause i'm such a sucker for him and this fits him perfectly. this is quite short but i hope it matches your expectations - i wrote it while listening to "The Louvre" by Lorde, and that's why it got a bit suggestive at the end. enjoy! <3
gender neutral reader | a bit suggestive ig | 477 words.
reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated ♡ if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee. -> from this event.
“Y’know wha- i’ve alway thought you were th’prettiest person around.”
Zoro blurted out, an hiccup interrupting him mid-sentence. Resting his chin against the palm of his hand, he locked his good eye on your face, a soft smile forming on his face. The booze he had consumed throughout the night had painted his cheeks of an unusual crimson shade, destroying his usual stoic façade and lifting the veil from his emotions.
"Uh?"
Nodding in response, Zoro kept his eye locked on you. His smile kept growing as he stared at you, occasionally sipping from his cup but never shifting his gaze from you - he just couldn't. There was something so hypnotising about you that had him wrapped around your finger. The world's greatest swordsman hung from your lips, left defenceless in front of you - he couldn't help but fall, feeling his heart skipping a beat every time you dared to smile his way.
Few inches were now keeping you apart, the two of you sitting in front of each other across the dining table. Mimicking his movements, you too rested your chin against the palm of your hand, leaning forward on the table and getting closer to him.
"You're drunk." you smirked, scanning his flustered face trying to interpret his confession.
Zoro followed you, edging his body forward and almost lying on the table, finally shortening the distance between the two of you. Zoro's eye pierced right though you and for a moment, it felt as if he could stare directly into your soul - as if he knew how much you ached to feel his lips against yours, as if he could see how many times you have dreamed of him with his hands through your hair as your back lied right against that table.
"Maybe." Zoro agreed, tilting his head to one side. "but booze is just liquid courage, isn't it?" he laughed, licking his lips like a lion would before jumping on its prey.
Zoro had held onto this feeling for far too long - the pining, the anticipation, the dreams with you all over him; and it was driving him insane.
Chuckling in response, you moved closer to Zoro, brushing your nose against his - your lips grazing against each other for a brief second leaving Zoro breathless, his mouth slightly open waiting for more. A smirk appeared on your face once again, feeling the tension building up in your veins.
"C'mere."
He whispered, wrapping his calloused hand around your neck and pulling you in, forcing his lips against yours. His lips felt rough, your hasty kiss quickly becoming wetter, hungrier, needier.
"We should go." he mumbled, his lips never fully leaving yours.
A nod was all it took for Zoro to pick you up and let your legs wrap around his waist, dragging the two of you to his bedroom.
#one piece headcanons#one piece x reader#one piece fanart#straw hat pirates#straw hat crew#one piece zoro#one piece x y/n#one piece x you#one piece x oc#zoro op#zoro roronoa#zoro x reader#zoro fanart#zoro imagine#zoro x you#zoro x y/n#zoro x oc#zoro roronoa x you#zoro roronoa x reader#roronoa zoro#rorona zoro fanart#roronoa#marta's 1000 followers event
531 notes
·
View notes
Text
Daylight pt4
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Cassian x F!reader
AN: Thank you to everyone for reading this series and enjoying it! Part 1 now has over 100 notes, which makes me very happy! I hope you continue to like what i have to say!
Summary: Helion comes to check on you in the Night Court. You have feelings about it and Cassian is shirtless.
Warnings: talking about death and expectations and pressures
Word count: 1596
You sat perfectly still in the seat across from Rhysand. Everything in your body begged you to run, to flee this room where the walls pushed in. Suffocating you, trapping you. But your spin was a pillar of steel and your eyes belied none of your discomfort. As far as anyone in the room was concerned you were perfectly calm as you kept your gaze on the High Lord before you.
“Y/N?” The voice came from the seat next to you. A warm, familiar tone that once wrapped around your bones and soothed your anxious heart. Now it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and a muscle in your jaw tic.
“My research is slow moving,” you spoke to Rhysand, your fingers interlaced over your crossed knees, “but it is progressing.”
Violet eyes flicked from you to the male beside you and back again, “Do you require anything to aid you? The resources of the Night Court are at your disposal.”
“A most generous offer, High Lord-”
“Y/N-”
“Perhaps you can spare your Shadowsinger for a few questions,” you continued as if not hearing him speak. “I think he would have some most illuminating things to say.”
Rhysand nodded once, “When Azriel gets back from the continent, I'll send him to you.”
You bowed your head in thanks as you got to your feet, “Until then, I shall return to the library.” You started to leave but paused, “Males aren't allowed down there unless given permission, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Y/N-”
“Good to know,” you turned and left without another word to either male. The door slamming in your wake.
Rhysand turned to Helion, who slumped into his chair and raised an eyebrow. “Well…” he started, and the High Lord of Day let out a low groan. “You've certainly managed to piss her off. What did you do?”
“I brought her here,” Helion sighed as he stood to cross the room to the window. The golden rays of the sun seemed to shine even brighter in his presence. “The Grand Library was her home, and I sent her away.”
Rhysand hummed softly, “Why did you bring her here, old friend?”
Helion's amber eyes closed briefly, a shiver of what almost seemed like regret running through his powerful body, “Y/N had a sister. My father's chief advisor and a brilliant researcher. She died defending the library from being looted again just before Amarantha fell.”
“Ah.”
“Y/N hasn't been the same since,” he continued, slipping his hands into his pockets. “It's as if, because she survived, she feels she needs to live up to her sister's legacy. That she needs to be as good or better than her. But Y/N already was those things, just in a smaller way.”
Rhysand tipped his head to the side, “What do you mean?”
“Her sister made miracles, feats of magic that we never could have dreamed possible. Y/N…” he trailed off, turning back to the Night Lord. “Her research was about philosophy. The very concepts of Life and Death. She dove into the essence of Religion and Mythology and the laws of the universe itself. She sought answers to questions no one else in my court would have ever bothered with because they did not affect or change our day to day. And I believe she felt like she had the freedom to do so because her sister's accomplishments shielded her from the competition my father fostered among his Advisors.”
Rhysand steepled his fingers in front of him, “And with her sister dead, her own lack of answers is weighing on her.”
Helion nodded once, “She feels that if she can't provide results, then the wrong sister died.”
“Do you know what she's looking into now?”
“I don't,” he admitted with a sigh, “I've not been privy to her research since coming back from under the mountain. She hides it from everyone.”
Rhysand seemed to ponder something for a moment, “She asked Cassian if he's ever heard a swan song. Are you familiar with the concept?”
Helion turned back to him, “I am.”
“And now she's asking to speak with Azriel,” the corners of his mouth ticked down.
Helion raised an eyebrow, “What are you thinking?”
“I'm thinking about death…” he trailed off before meeting his friend's amber gaze. “I'll need to speak to Clotho to verify but…” the two males fell into conversation quietly as Rhysand relayed his theory to Helion. Too engrossed in the debate to notice the slip of daylight that slithered under the door and into the hall.
***
You found yourself not in the library as you had intended after winnowing back to the House of Wind, but instead in the training right above it. You don't know why you ended up here. What force drew you to this place you'd not yet had need of in the two months since coming here. But once you were staring into the wide open sky above, you let out a scream that nearly shook the mountain before collapsing into the middle of the training pit.
Your breath was coming in shaky, uneven gasps as if your lungs were being held in a vice, so you buried your hands up to your wrists into the gravel. Focusing on the cool stones against your skin helped sooth and smother your roiling anger. The burning you felt in your soul dissipating into the mountain below until slowly your breathing evened out and your body stopped shaking.
Your rage was still there. It never left entirely. Like a ball of fire, it squatted in your chest, waiting to be unleashed. Some days, it was the only thing that got you out of bed. Others you had to lock yourself in your room to keep from lashing out indiscriminately. Regardless, it was always there, always prepared for however you would wield it.
“Are you okay?”
The voice came from behind you, and your head snapped up in response. Cassian stood at the edge of the pit. Shirtless and sweaty, he'd clearly been in the middle of training when you'd stomped through the space like a viper ready to strike.
He'd know better than to intercept you. A female with that look on her face was more dangerous than entire armies, and Cassian wasn't stupid enough to think his presence would improve the situation. Especially after he heard the scream that came out of your small frame. Pain and rage and sorrow- he knew that scream. Knew how deep the hurt had to run to be able to produce a cry like that. He'd heard every single one of his family members make that scream and knew what caused it. A wounding of the soul itself.
He'd been about to slip back into the House, intent on giving you your privacy when he saw you collapse into the training pit and bury your hands in the stones. It confused him enough that he lingered in the threshold and baffled him entirely as he WATCHED the anger leak out of your body.
Cassian approached then, not only to make sure you were okay but also because some central part of him wondered at what you had done. How you had leashed your rage.
“Are you okay?”
Your head snapped up to face him, your expression turning weary. He held up his hands to show you he had no weapons and your shoulders eased some.
“Why are you always sneaking up on me?” Your voice was heavy and held none of the bite he imagined you intended your words to carry.
“In my defense” he shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest, “I was here first this time. You just didn't see me.”
You let out a hard breath, eyes falling back to the stones, “Indeed.”
“Y/N,” he said your name so softly, so sweetly, something in your chest cracked in response, “Are you okay?”
You looked up at him again, your gaze crashing into his, and your vision blurred. “No,” you admitted, something straining in your voice, “But I will be. I must be.”
“What does that-”
“Thank you, General,” you silenced him as you stood up from the gravel. Wiping the dust from your hands as you did. “For caring enough to check, but please, let's not fool ourselves into thinking this is anything more than court politics.”
He frowned at that, “Court polit- Y/N-”
“I am a member of the Day Court, your High Lord's closest ally. I was sent here to be kept from breaking under the weight of my role,” you said simply, studying the dirt now crusted under your nails. “I know this, you know this. Your kindness, while appreciated, is not needed or wanted. I will fix myself. I will not break.”
Cassian was at a loss for words, “Y/N-”
“I will not break,” you said again, your eyes flicking to meet his, and he felt his world shift out from under him. He was not in Prythian. He was not in the Night Court or Velaris or standing atop the House of Wind. He was standing on a sunbeam, walking on the wind, fingers trailing through the clouds. And across from him, there you were. Glowing and graceful, a star made just for him.
Cassian blinked, and the vision was gone. He was back in the training pit, his gaze locked with yours. Only you were fading, like the edges of your body were fraying into the wind as you disappeared before his eyes. He blinked again, and you were gone.
Part 5
#fanfiction#acotar#acotar fanfiction#cassian x reader#cassian#cassian x y/n#cassian x you#helion acotar#cassian acotar#rhysand#helion
71 notes
·
View notes
Note
LORD alfuckingmighty i don't think there is a single string of words i could piece 2gether to properly describe the absolute magnificence of ur art . you have such a vast understanding of art & so many of its intricacies. ur character designs are ALWAYS incredible, so so endearing & memorable. every time i see one i get incredibly excited & am strangled by the urge to make fanart because just. oh my god. you have some of the BEST color work i have ever fucking seen like it is genuinely fucking spectacular what you are able to create & look good with combinations of colors i would NOT think to place in the way you do if i were given the same palette. i feel like calling your doodles just "doodles" is like, WRONG, because every single one is something u could spend ages looking at on its own. i'd pick favorites to describe but we would be here for hours . you have the insane ability to keep your style consistent but are able to stretch it & change it for whatevers appropriate/the receive your desired result for the particular drawing and its just SO. SO. COOL. take literally all of this and add it to the fact that you can fucking ANIMATE !!! while still keeping all of these features of ur style intact and that fact is just OTHERWORLDLY to me in the best way possible . not only that but ur stories r always so very intriguing and it makes me SOO ANGRY that oc artwork & original stories dont receive the same attention as fandom work or otherwise because i swear 2 fucking god you go absolutely ABOVE and beyond in terms of creativity for ur stories & DESERVE THE RECOGNITION AAAAAAAAUUUUUUGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRORWGGGGGGGGGGGGRWGGGGGGGGGGRGGGGGGGGGRGGGGGGGGGGGGGRGGGGGGGGGGGGGG okay im done. i hav been up for almost 24 hours and saw one of ur drawings and got real emotional ihope uhave an awesome day eebrt i hope to be at least 10th place in ur list of biggest fans .
oh my god . I'm responding to this on a computer which doesn't have any of my usual images OR emojis that I would usually throw at you like. I don't know Someone who's really really REALLY good at throwing stuff. so I'll just use my words. THANK YOU SO MUCH !!!!!! this means the absolute world to me.. I did not expect to be blasted in the face by one million kisses when I checked my inbox, I had to sit back in my chair like WOW.... I love you .... I love youuuu...... thank you so much for the encouragement, I've been feeling not so confident And kind of afraid (leaving to study animation in college very soon) for the last few days n your words are lifting me out of the void like bingbong's rocket from inside out. not gonna lie your comments are one of the highlights of posting on Tumblr, I love reading them so much when you reblog my stuff. they're beautiful and always make me feel better when I'm feeling down... you were there from the days of homestuck dragons... you were always there for my ocs... You are a "real one." If I had a heart locket I'd print out your icon and put it in there along with all the other people I treasure ^_^ so yeah, definitely in the ranks... when I'm up on stage wearing a solid gold tuxedo (they had to wheel me in because I could not walk in the Solid Gold Tuxedo) and giving my speech to the world before I take it over my i will start by saying First of all I'd like to thank Mel Tumblr user Melissa-titanium On Tumblr for always hyping me up... could not have made it this far without him. And then I'd press the doomsday button and blow up every world leader.
I wish I could respond with something that appropriately returns the energy of what you sent me, but this is all I've got. Just know I am vibrating in my chair right now... hope you got some sleep!!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
I couldn’t find the words to say ‘I love you’.
omg guys its finally a part 3 😱 Finally got inspo to write sorry for the longest wait ever lmao
part 1 here. part 2 here. extra but also kinda important here.
It’s been months. You haven’t spoken to Mona or Scaramouche at all since you caught them in ‘the act’. Honestly it sent shivers of disgust all over your body.
You walked in the halls of your college- even though you shared the same one with both the people that you used to call ‘friends’ you thankfully havent seen them at all.
Taking out your phone and scrolling through anything to clear your mind of the nuisances that you foolishly allowed to be by your side for years, you bumped shoulders with someone.
“Ah, sorry I should have been looking where I was going” you turn around and say apologetically, not expecting to see the man that has been plaguing your mind for this long.
He turned, glared at you for a few seconds before the glare faltered. Both of your eyes stayed connected and the tug of your heart hurt so bad, but you just took a deep breath, blinked at him with the blankest face you could muster, turned and walked away.
And God, did that feel good- that was until you felt a grab at your shoulder, and you were pulled back slightly.
“(Name)…” His voice whispered out, but you didn’t want to turn. You shrugged his hand off of you, and turned your head slightly, just to get that look on his face and you glared.
“Don’t fucking speak to me. You chose to do what you did, so just do what you always wanted me to do and fuck off.” Then you finally walked away from him- with an aching heart of course, but it was finally a step forward. With every step away from him it felt like you could finally breathe, like you could finally feel the weight of all those years slide off and far away.
—
Going about your day, it’s only been about an hour or two since bumping into Scaramouche in the hall. You were so happy to have finally let go of such a burden- having finally broken a promise you’ve made to a ‘dead person’ (if ur confused read the prequel thing or just dont idk)
However happiness was cut abruptly when you were faced with the other half of the nuisance, Mona. You were unsure of your standings with her, she seemed to only be your friend when Scaramouche wasn’t in the picture, but she’d also treat you as if you were some gross bug when he was around.
Seeing her stand in front of you so casually as if she hadn’t just ghosted you for some boy made you pissed off.
“(Name)! It’s been so long, how’ve you been?” The casualty in her voice and actions towards you start irritating you. You give her a disgusted look.
“what the hell are you talking about? ‘(Name) it’s been so long, how’ve you been?’ “ You mock her words in an overly high pitched and obnoxious voice.
“You ghosted me Mona. Don’t come skipping back expecting me to be the same (Name) I was months ago- actually scratch that, I’m pretty grateful.” You cross your arms and look her in the eyes with a glare.
“(Name) look I’m sorry-“ You cut her off.
“shut up and let me speak for fucks sake.” You rolled your eyes, not letting her speak over you.
“You went no contact on me, blocked me from literally everything! Kind of glad you did that for me though, with you and your bitch of a boyfriend out of my life for all those months I realized how fake you are!”
When she opened her mouth to speak- or defend herself you just walked away, not wanting to even hear any more of her voice.
—
yeah sorry this is kinda shit, but like if any of u wanna take inspo or kinda remake this and my other fics into something else just feel free. I honestly meant to keep the first fic as just that, but ppl wanted a part 2 so I made the part 2 and then ppl wanted a part 3 and I was just like ‘damn wth do i do now’ so yeah. Thanks for reading 😭❤️
#scaramouche x reader angst#scaramouche angst#scaramouche x reader#genshin impact#genshin impact scaramouche#x reader#kunikuzushi#kunikuzushi x reader
346 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello, :) I hope ur well. Can I pls request a comfort fic with Saeyoung and a depressed f!reader? Let's say reader is not the type to cry at all, like he has never seen her cry because she keeps it all bottled up even though she's in a lot of pain. I hope that's ok. Thank u ^^
Don’t cry, I’m here. — Saeyoung x fem! reader
Of course! And I’m doing well besides the 3 hours of sleep I’ve gotten, thanks. I hope you are too. I was confused about the gender of the reader, so I was rereading that a few times cause I was like. What? But when I read it the fourth time I was like OH they meant female reader. I thought that was funny I’m a little dumb, but anyways! Also yeah no that’s fine, I hope you enjoy it!
This is very much proofread.
I didn’t want to specify the reader’s issues cause of depression cause I don’t want to be like “oh the reader is upset cause of this” and then for you to have meant a different thing, so I tried to write it so that the reader’s reason for breaking down so suddenly wouldn’t be.. specific.
Warnings : Not much, reader’s reason for breaking down is not specific, reader is suggested to be female, a bit of comfort.
Saeyoung was sure he had you figured out. From small details about you in person, to large pieces of information of you online. He memorized every freckle and mole on your body, every password to all of your accounts.
So that’s why it surprised him when he saw you—his beautiful girlfriend—crying.
How did it get to this point? Well to him there was only one conclusion.
You were bottling it all up. How could he not notice?
It should’ve been obvious enough whenever you said you didn’t want to eat cause you lost your appetite, or when you seemed a tad more exhausted than usual, or even just when you started to space out whenever he was talking.
All the signs were there, right in front of him too.
So why didn’t he catch on?
Why didn’t he catch the way your eyes seemed to be unusually dull? Why didn’t he see the way you seemed to not want to get out of bed, refusing and blaming it on your fatigue? Why did he let it go far, why was he so blind to see you were in pain?
He of all people understands what that type of pain feels like, what it’s like to mask it and bottle it up, so why didn’t he know you were feeling this way?
So it was no surprise how speechless he was when he got home to see you crying on the bathroom floor.
He stayed shocked, standing in the doorway seeing you crying your heart out. Saeyoung didn’t stay frozen in dismay, rushing to your side.
“Hey, honey, no-no don’t cry what’s wrong?” He panicked, he wasn’t sure what to do.
“‘ts just too much to handle Saeyoung..” you cried, clinging onto him for the sake of your sanity.
“I don’t know what to do.. I thought my problems are my problems and they should stay my problems—“ you hiccuped “—so I wouldn’t have to bother you or anyone else about it, but it’s just too much pressure—I’m so sorry.”
“I didn’t want to be burden on any of you.”
Saeyoung felt his heart shatter when he heard how pained your voice sounded, holding you close as he hushed you “Hey, don’t apologize. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” was what he asked, but really he was thinking why didn’t he see it sooner?
Usually he’d know what to do, how to comfort you. But he’s never seen you like this before. Hell, he has never seen you cry before. So he’s so thrown off on what to do.
“You were always—“ you tried to talk, but your words only came out in choked out sobs so Saeyoung interrupted you.
“Shh.. shh it’s okay my love. I’m just..” he paused, unsure what the right words to say were “I’m here now, tell me what’s wrong?”
And so you spilled. All your troubles and worries, every single doubt and problem you’ve been experiencing. And he sat there, holding you close to him as if you would slip through his hands like sand—and listened to every word you had to say.
After you had finished, your rambling now incoherent due to your sobs, he gently rubbed soothing circles onto your back. “It’s okay. I’m here now. You’re okay.” He cooed, hoping that would help in comforting you.
But you weren’t calming down, and he wasn’t sure what to do. He was thinking of texting, or maybe even calling another RFA member in hopes they would know, but he somehow already knew they’d be as clueless as he was now. So all he could do was try to calm you down.
“Hey,” Saeyoung whispered, pulling you back up by your shoulders, your teary eyes staring right back into his golden ones “can you breathe with me?”
Yeah, he thought. That should be the first step in calming her down, right?
“O.. Okay.” You hiccuped.
“Good, okay. Breathe in,” he inhaled, waiting for you to inhale with him as well, and after a few moments he exhaled “breathe out.”
It took a while, but eventually you weren’t crying as bad anymore.
“Okay,” Saeyoung mumbled “okay.”
“Are you okay?” He asked, his voice was soft, and low—in almost a whisper-like way. Which heavily contrasted his usually ‘happy-go-lucky’ nature.
“I think so.” Was all you managed to croak out in response, hiccuping a bit. But at least you weren’t sobbing to the point of being unresponsive.
He was still very much confused. You always seemed so cheerful, laughing at his jokes, teasing Yoosung with him. You never cried, or if you did, never in front of him.
Saeyoung wants to take care of you, the way you did with him when he tried to push you away.
“Do you..” he paused, propping himself up so now he was leaning against the wall “..do you need anything? Water? A snack?”
“Can you just stay here with me?” You asked, your eyes fluttering closed, a bit worn out from crying so much “Just for a bit.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding “yeah I can do that.”
And at least, you thought, you at least had some form of peace in his arms. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt you, and for the first time you didn’t feel alone, no longer wallowing in the depths of your depression. Cause now, now you had Saeyoung.
And he was going to make sure you, his precious girlfriend, would never feel like this ever again. Or at least be there for you whenever you fell into that deep rabbit hole again.
But one thing was for sure, he would make sure you never have to face this type of issue on you own.
————
Bonus!!
“Saeyoung..” you whispered, still curled up in a fetal position as he wrapped himself around you.
“Yeah?” He hummed in reply, tugging you closer to him, as if to remind you that he’s still there.
“Thank you.” you chuckled, your voice was quiet, but he still managed to hear you.
Saeyoung was about to speak again, when he heard you talk “You shouldn’t have seen me like that. But still, thank you for staying with me.”
He was a bit surprised. What did you mean he shouldn’t have seen you like that?
“It’s nothing.” Was all he murmured, snuggling his face deeper into the crevice of your neck.
“You sure you don’t have anything else to do?” You asked, then adding “No work to be done? I don’t want you getting in trouble just because I’m .. like this.”
Saeyoung chuckled, making a faint ‘pssh’ sound “I’m sure I can take a break from the computer if it means making sure your okay.”
All you did was hum in reply, nodding in confirmation.
“Hey (Y/N)?” He called, propping himself up on his elbows, looking over to see your face.
“Yeah?” You replied, eyes flickering to meet his.
“You know I love you, right?” He murmured in more of a question, but you knew he only meant to assure you.
“Yeah, I know.” you nodded turning around to be face to face with him.
“I love you too.”
(A/N) : This is about maybe 900 words? Maybe a bit more than that. I was pretty reluctant on posting this, not cause of anything with the request but the way I had written it was kinda ehhh to me. Y’know? I’m not good with comfort but this was fun to try! I really hope you liked it, if you didn’t please do not hesitate to lmk so I can fix anything and everything for you, but I hope you’re well too! And I’m also sorry for not publishing this sooner, as I said before I’m a bit insecure of my writing hesitant to post this. But I’m going to, just cause I want to see if there’s anything I can fix. I’m always open to criticism! That being said, thank you for reading this, and again—if you see that anything need fixing or something is not to your liking lmk!!
#saeyoung choi#mysme saeyoung#saeyoung x reader#mystic messenger x reader#mysme seven#707 x reader#mystic messenger#x reader#female reader#mysme rfa#saralovesyou writes
187 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kono Oto Tomare! Chapter 128.5 Scans and Rough TL
Disclaimer: Please DO NOT use this translation to make your own TL of the chapter!! The KOT TL group works very hard to give you the most accurate translation, that does as much justice to the original script as possible. This is a ROUGH translation. That means is faulty and there must be mistakes in certain places. This is just for impatient people like myself to get a grasp on what is going on in the chapter! You can REFERENCE my TL if you want to discuss the chapter but never USE it as it was your own.
Scans: (I recommend the use of an adblocker to avoid NSFW content) https://klz9.com/jxsh-kono-oto-tomare-raw-chapter-129.html
Page 1
Isaki [thoughts]: On my 27th winter
Isaki [thoughts]: My father passed away.
Side text: The story of how Chika and Isaki met...
Gen [memories]: If something were to happen to me...
Gen [memories]: Please take care of Chika.
Isaki [thoughts]: ---To me
Chika: Whatever. I don't care.
Page 2
Chika: I don't give a shit what you think of me. Not anymore.
Side text: When his grandfather died, his heart did as well---...
Isaki [thoughts]: He left only one request.
Chapter title: #ex [first light]
Page 3
Isaki [thoughts]: ....Whaaa---... No no, you can't be serious... This? You left this to me??
Gen [memories]: His eyes have been full of kindness lately.
Isaki [thoughts]: Where??
Isaki [thoughts]: Those are not the eyes of a child. Normally, it would've been impossible.
Isaki [thoughts]: Something like this... I've never even raised a child before, this is way out of my league---...
Isaki: !!
Isaki: Eh? Wai- Where are you goi--
Chika's father: Leave him!!
Isaki: Still...
Page 4
Gen [thoughts]: I leave it to you.
Isaki [thoughts]: Really, you ask too much...
Isaki [thoughts]: Wow.
Isaki: Excuse me, could borrow an umbrella?
Employee: Go ahead.
Isaki [thoughts]: He couldn't have gone too far yet but... Where should I even look for him?
Isaki [thoughts]: In a place that looks unsafe?
Page 5
Isaki [thoughts]: What should I do if he got in a fight again?
Isaki [thoughts]: There he is...
Isaki [thoughts]: For now, let's just call out to him. He will probably reject me but... Wait, if I get rejected, is there anything I can do after that? We've just met, so... The most practical thing for me to do would be to go back and call my brother.
Page 6
*No text*
Page 7
Isaki: ....Oh. Um...
Isaki: ...
Isaki: ...Do you know who I am? I'm your father's younger sister.
Isaki: Dad... Did Grandpa ever tell you about me?
Chika: ...
Isaki: About my brother... I think he's just a little bit preoccupied right now, so… maybe you should talk to him when he's a bit calmer and...
Chika: It's fine.
Chika: I really couldn't care less about that.
Page 8
Isaki: What? But...
Isaki [thoughts]: He was crying so hard just now...
Isaki [thoughts]: ...Ah.
Isaki [thoughts]: ...I see...
Isaki: You... Truly loved Grandpa.
Page 9
Isaki: I think the time Grandpa spent with you was really fun and joyful to him.
Isaki: I think you made him happy.
Isaki: For being with him until the end... Thank you.
Chika: !!
Page 10
Chika: u... ugh.
Isaki [thoughts]: ...Aaah.
Isaki [thoughts]: Can't do.
Isaki [thoughts]: I definitely
Isaki: Chika
Page 11
Isaki: Come live with me
Isaki [thoughts]: I can't leave this child alone.
Isaki [thoughts]: ---That was
Page 12
Isaki [thoughts]: The beginning for Chika and me.
Isaki: We haaave arrived! This is my humble abode--!
Isaki: The bathroom is over here--- And over there---
Isaki: Who would've thought you could do that...
Chika: What?
Isaki [thoughts]: He is surprisingly well-behaved.
Isaki: Here, this is my room---...
Sfx: Clack...
Page 13
Isaki: If you enter, I will beat you up ☆
Chika: ...
Isaki: Next up is the living room.
Isaki: And finally-- Your room!!
Sfx: Ta-daaaan
Chika: ...
Isaki: You got nothing to say about it...?
Chika: I'm fine just with a place to sleep in.
Isaki [thoughts]: I was just kidding... I planned on partitioning the living room to create a room for him but...
Isaki: ..............Whatever, I guess.
Page 14
Chika [Sfx]: Look around
Isaki: Hm? Are you looking for something?
Chika: ...I was just thinking that there aren't any kotos around here.
Isaki: Aah.
Isaki: I used to play it a little a long time ago. Now, not at all.
Isaki: My job is related to events so I sometimes get exposed to it from time to time.
Chika: Hmmmm.
Isaki: What, did you want to play the koto?
Chika: Nah, I can't play.
Isaki: Is that right? My fathe... Grandpa told me on the phone before
Isaki: "Chika played the koto!" He was so happy when he said that.
Page 15
Isaki [thoughts]: ----Ah.
Chika: ...Hmmm.
Isaki [thoughts]: His eyes light up as soon as Grandpa is mentioned
Isaki [thoughts]: That's probably his true self...
Sfx: Ruuumble
Isaki: ...Did you hear that?
Chika: ...Well, yeah.
Isaki: That's because I'm hungry. It's almost six, let's have dinner.
Isaki: What do you want to eat? We can go eat out or order delivery---
Chika: I don't need anything.
Page 16
Isaki: ...What?
Chika: Food, I mean... I'll be fine even with little food.
Isaki: What are you even saying??
Chika: It's enough if you just lend me a place to sleep.
Chika: I don't plan on coming for anything except to sleep.
Chika: Today I will also go somewhere else until night hits.
Chika: About my clothes... I would be thankful if you let me leave them here.
Isaki: I will make it.
Chika: ------Eh?
Isaki: Today, Isaki-sama, for your well-being, from the bottom of her heart, will cook for you. So eat. Until there isn't a single crumb left.
Page 17
Isaki: Right now, the only things I have in the fridge are water, alcohol, and snacks. I gotta do some shopping.
Chika: Eh? Wai-
Isaki: Ah, are you coming with me?
Chika: If there's anything you need, we can buy it.
Chika: ...Well, no ...There's really nothing.
Isaki: That so? Well, just stay at home then.
Chika: !
Chika: ...
Isaki: What, you coming then? Is there something you want?
Chika: ...There's nothing, really...
Page 18
Isaki [thoughts]: Yeaaaaaah, I don't get it.
Isaki [thoughts]: He is following me, but he is so far away.
Isaki [thoughts]: Well, you know? Of course, right? From a junior high school student's point of view, a woman around 30 years old is considered an old woman, right?. I'm sure it's embarrassing to walk around with one, right?
Isaki [thoughts]: I totally bought too much.
Isaki [thoughts]: Whatever--- It's just a 5-minute walk...
Sfx: Grap.
Page 19
Isaki [thoughts]: Oh?
Isaki [thoughts]: Ooooh...?
Isaki: Wai- At least let me carry one of those.
Chika: ...
Isaki: Hey!
Chika [Sfx]: Power walking
Isaki: Wha-!?
Isaki: Wait right there! Hey!!
Isaki: Don't ignore me!!
Isaki: Listen here!! I get that you don't want to walk with me but
Isaki: That kind of thing is still hurtful, you know!? I'm grateful you are carrying the bags, though!!
Page 20
Chika: Ah, no.
Chika: That's not... it.
Isaki: Come again?
Chika: ...Did you see how it ended up? Gramps house, I mean.
Chika: It'd better for you not to be seen around me.
Page 21
Isaki: Are you underestimating adults?
Isaki: Gramps house? Yeah, I took a good look at it with these two eyes. It was the worst among the worst.
Isaki: I think the people who did that are really shitty kids. And you're a fool for hanging out with them.
Page 22
Isaki: When I first heard about the incident, to be honest, I was super pissed with you.
Isaki: I thought it was too much trouble, I wanted nothing to do with it.
Isaki: But once I actually met you, you were only a child crying for the death of his grandpa.
Isaki: You have reflected and regretted. But you are still someone who hasn't learned how to look forward, at all.
Isaki: Don't you dare try to put yourself in front of me to try and protect me.
Page 23
Isaki: There's no way I will run from some brats who try to belittle my nephew.
Isaki: I will use my power as an adult to turn the tables on them-
Isaki: So you can rest at ease, and walk beside me. And every day, you can come home normally!!
Isaki: Do you understand!?
Page 24
Isaki: Come on, let's go.
Chika: Carrying it like this is embarrassing....
Isaki; Oh, is that so? Let go, then, and let me carry these heaaaavy bags all on my own.
Chika: Ugh...
Chika: ...
Page 25
Isaki [thoughts]: That night
Isaki [thoughts]: For the first time in several years I cooked
Isaki [thoughts]: A fucking disgusting A slightly different curry
Isaki [thoughts]: Chika did exactly as I told him.
Isaki [thoughts]: And didn't leave a single crumb.
Page 26
Isaki [thoughts]: He is more honest than I thought.
Isaki [thoughts]: And he is extremely clumsy.
Isaki [memory]: ----Eh? You don't want to go to high school and want to start working directly instead? Is there a work you are interested in?
Chika[memory]: There's nothing like that but, normally I would have to pay rent, and earn my living. I wanna pay for it.
Isaki[memory]: What, now?
Isaki[memory]: Your father will be paying for all your expenses, isn't that obvious?
Isaki[memory]: You don't want to depend on your father?
Chika[memory]: Ugh...
Isaki[memory]: Well, is not like I don't understand where you are coming from, but.
Page 27
Isaki [memory]: If there's anything you can use, use it.
Isaki[memory]: If you can rely on something or someone, do it.
Isaki[memory]: There's nothing to be embarrassed about.
Isaki[memory]: For once, forget about things like money and whatnot. Just think about what you want for yourself.
Isaki[memory]: But if after that, you still want to work, then I will support you.
Chika [thoughts]: ...What I want for myself...
Chika [thoughts]: ..............
Chika [thoughts]: I have no clue--... I don't have a hobby or any kind of special talent. Nothing.
Page 28
Chika [thoughts]: ...Truly. I really have nothing.
Chika [thoughts]: Nothing...
Gen [memory]: Chika!
Isaki [thoughts]: I'm home---
Chika [Sfx]: Stare
Isaki: Eh? What is it? You are scaring me.
Isaki: What, did you break something?
Chika: I didn't break anything.
Isaki: What is it, then?
Page 29
Chika: .....
Chika: Ther-
Chika: There's something I... Want.
Isaki: ! What is it?
Chika: ----------
Chika: Pi- picture...
Chika: I want a picture.
Chika: ....Of Gramps.
Chika: I
Chika: Don't have even one... so.
Page 30
Chika: If it's not doable, that's fine.
Isaki: Eh- no-! It's totally doable!!! Pictures, huh! I will bring them over!
Isaki: These are albums.
Chika: Are these all Gramps'?
Isaki: Well, there are also other family members in them.
Isaki: You can grab whichever picture you like.
Chika: ...Thanks
Chika [thoughts]: Oooh...
Page 31
Chika [thoughts]: Around this age, I can already tell it's Gramps.
Chika[memory]: Koto club? What's that, a club where you play koto?
Gen [memory]: Yeah. I was the founder of the Tokise Koto Club!
Page 32
Chika: ---...This.
Isaki: Hm? Ahhh, that's a picture of when the Koto Club was first founded.
Chika: ...Does this club
Chika: Still exist?
Isaki: If I remember correctly, it's still there, but----
Gen [memory]: Do you want to give it a try?
Gen [memory]: Haha, you are pretty good.
Gen [memory]: You actually seem pretty talented.
Isaki [memory]: "Chika played the koto!" He was so happy when he said that.
Page 33
Isaki: -----...
Isaki: Did you find what you want to do?
Page 34
Chika: I wonder if it's too late for me to aim to go to high school.
Isaki: Well, that depends on how much effort you put on i---
Isaki: Wait a second!! You have to submit an application form for the entrance exam! When is the deadline!? It's already December!!
Isaki: Will we make it on time?
Chika: I will go ask Tetsuki!!
Isaki: Eh? Who is Tetsuki!?
Chika: It's ok! I will make it on time!! If I tell Tetsuki, it will be fine, for sure!!
Isaki: Ok, but who is Tetsuki!!??
Chika: Uh... I
Chika: Will go to Tokise and
Chika: I will join the Koto Club Gramps created!!!
Page 35
Isaki [thoughts]: Thank you, Dad. For leaving a light for Chika.
Isaki: That's great!!
Isaki: Well then, from now on, it's full-time studying!
Chika: Starting tomorrow I will ask Tetsuki to help me study, so I will pass for sure!
Isaki: What the hell is a Tetsuki!!!???
Side text: I hope this sound reaches the heavens----...
Isaki [thoughts]: Chika won't lose sight of that light, and this time I will be right beside him.
Isaki [thoughts]: Please, look after us.
---Kono Oto Tomare! will continue in the next issue---
#kono oto tomare#kono oto tomare!#kot#sounds of life#stop this sound!#kudou chika#chika kudou#kot!#kot spoilers#spoilers#rough tl#rough translation#extra chapter#kono oto tomare 128.5#kot 128.5#kono oto tomare first light
83 notes
·
View notes
Note
HIIIIII
Love Sevika and lil Slayer so I was thinking about how reader would find a lost Slayer wondering around and takes her homes. Would love some frantic very worried Sev putting up lost puppy posters EVERYWHERE. But reader and slayer are bonding so well but she does the right thing and brings her back to Sev when reader realises how hot she is and starts CRUSHING.
GOD I LOVE SEVIKA!!!!!
THANK YOU ANGEL FOR ALL YOUR WORKSS <33333
CUTE I LOVE SLAYER i'm so glad u guys like that stinky little dog too <3
men and minors dni
you're walking home on a rainy day, when a little furball darts out in front of you, nearly tripping you.
you curse as you stumble over it, then pout in pity when you realize that the little creature isn't a rat, but is in fact, a little black chihuahua, soaking wet and shivering in the rain.
"poor thing." you say, reaching out to let the little dog sniff your hand. she seems to trust you, licking your fingers and pressing her head against your hand for pets. your heart melts. "where's your human?" you ask the little furball, pulling it into your arms and hurrying home.
when you get home, you strip out of your raincoat, before wrapping the little dog up into a fluffy towel, helping it warm up.
it's whimpering in your arms as you settle down against the couch, a pathetic little cry as she tries to warm up in your arms.
"let's see here." you mumble as you tug at her collar.
the front of her tag reads 'slayer.' you laugh at the name, pressing a kiss to the dog's head.
"you're not a slayer, are you? no, you're a sweetheart." you say. the dog licks it's nose.
the back of the tag has an address-- a few miles walk from your apartment. you pout. "oh baby, you're far from home, aren't you?" you ask the dog. she seems to understand you, whining again.
"i'll take you home tomorrow, okay?" you ask. "i'm too tired right now. let's go see what i got in the fridge for you, baby." you say as you carry little slayer to your kitchen.
once she's warm and fed (having wagged her tail so hard at the sight of your leftover chicken sandwich that you couldn't deny her) slayer walks herself into your bedroom, jumping up onto your mattress and making herself comfortable in the center of your bed.
you laugh.
"you must be spoiled at home, huh?" you ask the dog as she yawns. "somebody's probably missing you right now." you say.
you sleep better than you've slept in years with little slayer acting as a space heater under your covers.
when you wake up in the morning, you're almost sad to have to bring the dog home, but you do regardless.
the closer you get to the address, the more missing dog posters you see plastered up around the neighborhood. you look down at the dog in your arms, clearly recognizing her surroundings if her squirming was any indication, and laugh.
"someone really missed you, huh?" you ask the dog. she yaps in excitement, and you laugh.
when you knock on the door, you're expecting a little kid, or maybe an old lady to open the door.
what you aren't expecting is a six foot something, two hundred something pounds of pure muscle, goddess of a woman to answer the door.
she looks frazzled, eyes bloodshot from crying, eyebags dark from lack of sleep, hair a mess.
the second she sees slayer in your arms, she bursts into tears.
"slayer you little shit!" she exclaims, reaching forward to grab the dog and tug it toward her chest. slayer's wiggling in her graps, yapping and licking her face in excitement. you laugh.
"i found her a few miles away-- i hope you weren't looking for her for long." you say. the woman looks up at you, seemingly noticing you for the first time, and she quickly tries to wipe up her tears.
"thank you so fucking much." she says, darting forward to pull you into a hug.
you freeze in her arms. she freezes around you.
she pulls away stiffly, avoiding your gaze.
"s-sorry. my emotions got the best of me." she mumbles, still clutching slayer to her chest. you smile.
"i haven't been hugged in a while, it was nice. wasn't expecting it, is all." you say. the woman blinks at you.
"i'm sevika." she says, reaching forward to shake your hand. you smile and shake it back, introducing yourself. "do you-- i have some cash, if you want a reward." she says. you laugh.
"oh, god no, i'm just happy to make you two happy." you say.
sevika blinks at you, studying you. then, the exhaustion in her body language evaporates, a cool, calm demeanor taking over as she looks you up and down.
"well..." she says, turning around to put slayer down in her apartment. "at least let me take you to dinner as a thank you." she says.
you blink at the woman, a smile creeping up your lips.
"depends." you say. she raises an eyebrow at you and you shrug. "is it a 'thank you' dinner or is it a date?" you ask.
sevika stiffens, then smiles.
"whatever you'd prefer." she says.
you laugh, then pull your phone out of your back pocket, opening a new contact and handing it to sevika.
"give me your number." you say. "i'll text you, for our date." you say.
sevika grins, and snatches your phone out of your hands.
taglist!
@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki
101 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
seonyu10
Seonyu
pinefawn
이상현상
dommage-collateral
Dying
dmitriburkov
Dmitri Burkov
kiosuke18-blog
mniej i bardziej zakazane