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xoxoluvnicole · 2 months ago

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Little Angel

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader (First person POV)

You and Theo both end up at a Slytherin Halloween party, he is drawn in by your costume.

!SMUT! 18+ ONLY

CW: Alcohol, weed, pet names, choking, getting tied up

~~~~

"You look absolutely adorable!" My best friend squeals, looking at me over my shoulder in the mirror hung on the wall in my dorm room.

I smooth down the white mini skirt that adorns the top of my thighs. I decided to dress as an angel, it was an extremely basic costume but I knew it would draw the attention I wanted from boys. It was an all white outfit, a see-through corset was squeezing my organs in ways that made me vaguely worried for my health. My makeup was done all nice, with white accents on the inner corners of my eyes and small jewels dotted randomly on my face. Lastly, the piece that tied it all together was the white angel halo that sat on top of my head thanks to the headband.

We rushed out of my dorm, running through the dark halls of Hogwarts as quietly but as quickly as we could. Walking down the stairs into the dungeon, I could hear the music blasting from yards away. The green LED lights shined beneath the door that led into the Slytherin common room. A scrawny Slytherin first year had the poor job of standing at the door.

I waltzed right by him, catching him staring at the top of my legs. The room had all the furniture pushed against the walls, a makeshift bar was set up next to the door, and there was a lingering smell of different intoxicating substances. I held my best friends hand as we snuck our way through the crowd standing at the door.

I could see all sorts of unique costumes standing around the room. A group of Ravenclaws were dressed as the Scooby Doo mystery gang. I could see a few playboy bunnies followed by their Hugh Hefner boyfriends. Lots of popular tv show characters, a few Ghostface masks and Michael Myers stood in different corners of the room.

I could feel my friend tug at my arm, dragging me over to the bar. Pansy Parkinson was dressed as a sexy pirate, being the main bartender for the party. When she saw me, she smiled.

"Finally decided to join the party?" She yelled over the music.

I smiled at her, looking over my shoulder to scan the party. "Just give me something fruity!"

She quickly mixed something up for me, it was a bright pink color and it tasted similar to a cherry pie. It was dangerous, I knew I'd be drunk within the hour if I drank this as fast as I wanted to. I leaned over the bar, my ass sticking out behind me.

"Don't look behind you.." Pansy warned, looking past me while she continued to mix up a drink. "Nott's been staring at you for the past few minutes.."

I smiled at the name. Theodore Nott. He was a Slytherin seventh year, hot as ever and he had a cunning attitude attached to him. We've talked a bit, being smoking buddies every so often when he came up to the Astronomy tower with his boys while Pansy and I sat up there. Not strangers, but definitely not as close as I wished we could be.

I stood up straight, peering just every so slightly over my shoulder. He was wearing a black suit with a red button up shirt and tie. His face was covered with black and white face paint, depicting a skeleton. A simple costume, but it made me want to drool and trip over myself.

The cold drink in my hand was giving me a bit of confidence, as I took another sip. I whispered a quick goodbye to my friend and turned around on my heels. Theo was stationed next to the fireplace with Mattheo and Lorenzo at his sides. I slowly sauntered through the crowd, saying my hellos to the friends I bumped into along the way.

Theo acted like he didn't see me coming, looking away to the other corner of the room.

"Skeleton? Pretty basic, don't you think, Nott?" I giggled, bringing the drink up to my lips for another sip as I stepped in front of him.

He chuckled, finally meeting my eyes but not before he examined my costume. "Angel?" He took a minute to pause, "Unique.."

I smiled at him. I moved my hand holding the drink between us, silently offering him a sip. He held his hand up, denying it before he brought up his other hand which revealed the blunt he was holding.

"Classic.." I giggled at him.

I opened my mouth to speak again, possibly flirt with him a bit more before some Rihanna song came over the speakers. I gasped, looking up at the strobing lights on the ceiling. My hips began to sway as I took another drink, before setting it down on the mantle of the fireplace.

"Dance with me!" I yelled over the music to Theo, grabbing his upper arm and dragging him behind me.

The area that was the designated dance floor was crowded with people from every house. I managed to snake my way to the middle, stopping and turning to face Theo. The song continued on, as I grabbed Theo's hands to swing them back and forth. He smiles a small smile at me, eyes drawn to my body.

The song continues on and Theo's hands find my waist, turning me in his arms so my back is against his chest. My hips move side to side, his following mine. We stayed on the dance floor for the next few songs. Between me grinding on him or wrapping my arms around his shoulders to sing along with the song.

"Wanna go smoke somewhere?" He leaned down to whisper in my ear, hands still glued to my waist.

I nodded. He grabbed my hand within his, guiding me through the crowd and up a staircase into the boys dorm wing.

"Where are we going?" I giggled, whispering behind him.

"My dorm.. I've got better weed in there." He looked back at me, smirking.

He opened the door, leading me into a plainly decorated room. The only character that stood out was the weed accessories placed all over the room and the big tapestry that hung over his bed with a marijuana plant plastered in the middle of it. It was messy, but not disgusting. It smelled like cologne and old spice.

Theo let go of my hand after he shut the door behind us, walking over to the window to prop it open. He picked up a marbled green and black glass bong, walking over to the sink to fill it with water.

"You know how to pack weed?" He asked.

I shook my head, shyly sitting down on the edge of his bed. He nodded, walking back over to his bed to stand in front of me. He took the weed and began packing it in. He got it all ready, grabbed his lighter and lit the bong. He took a long hit, pulling back and opening his mouth to take a gasp in. Theo held it in for a few seconds, then leaning out the window to blow the smoke into the atmosphere.

"Here, your turn.." He walked back over to me, handing me the bong.

I held it in my hands, putting it up to my mouth as Theo held the lighter against the weed to light it for me. He pulled the plug out after a few seconds to let me take in all the smoke. I tilted my head towards the window and blew out, coughing.

Between coughs I managed to speak out, "Haven't.. done this.. in a while.." I giggled.

Theo smiled at me, taking another quick hit before setting the bong down on his nightstand. He sat down next to me on the bed, leaning back so his back hit the wall. I sighed, glancing around his room.

"Come on, lay back.. Take a load off." Theo suggested, pulling at my arm.

I leaned backwards, laying down next to him. My brain quickly got foggy from the previous alcohol and now the weed. I sighed, looking up at the ceiling as I felt Theo's gaze focus on me. I looked to my side, smiling at him.

"What are you thinking?" Theo asked quietly.

I hummed for a moment before giving my answer, "I dont know, honestly.." I giggled, "Nothing, I guess."

Theo chuckled, looking up at the ceiling. I sat up, shaking myself out of the wings that were on my back. I moved my legs to lay down at the head of the bed. Theo followed suit.

"How long have we known each other now..? Like six years or something like that." Theo asked, his words a bit slurred from the intoxicating smoke he inhaled a few minutes earlier.

"Something like that.." I agree, huffing. My heart was beginning to beat faster and it felt like I had a lack of lungs in my air.

I placed a hand on my heart, making sure my body was still functioning correctly. Theo eyed me, then placed his hand over mine.

His hand over mine was warm, like a spark of fire just lit between our connection. "You okay?" He asked.

I nodded, giving a small 'mhm'. My eyes fluttered closed as I lay there with the hottest guy in all of Hogwarts who had his hand on my chest. Maybe I was just high and hallucinating. Yeah, that's probably it.

I continued on with thinking I was hallucinating until I felt his hand slowly move from on top of mine to on top of my breast. It was a lingering touch, he held his hand for a few seconds before his fingers started to pry back the corset top I was wearing, easing his hand under and on to my boob.

Before I could comprehend what was happening, Theo looked at me with genuine care in his eyes. "Is um.. this okay?"

I nodded, vigorously.

"Use your words.." He coo'd.

"Yes.. Yes, this is good.." I stumbled over my words, watching and feeling his hand slip lower and lower into my top.

I felt his pinky finger brush over my nipple, the sudden sensation caused a chill to vibrate through my body. His thumb and index finger pinched and swirled my nipple between them. I bit my bottom lip, my eyes wandering from the ceiling to his face. He had a stupid smirk on it, watching my body squirm due to his simple touch.

"How easy is this corset to take off?" He questioned, pulling his hand out from under it and nudging me to sit up so he could take a look.

"Not hard, just um-" I paused to think, my intoxicated brain was not working the way it should. "Untie the tie and then pull the strings apart." I guided him.

He did as I told him, and before I knew it my corset was being thrown on the floor and I was left sitting topless on his bed. Theo's eyes wandered up and down my body, and I suddenly could feel every insecurity I've ever had seeping into my brain. I went to wrap my arms around myself but before I could Theo grabbed my wrist, pulling it back to my side.

"Why do you want to cover up such a beautiful body?" He spoke softly.

I shrugged, not having an answer for him. Soon, Theo was leaning forward towards me. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my lips, shocking me in the process.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yes! I'm very good.. Just- high," I giggled, "But this is nice! Keep going.. Please"

Theo smirked an evil smirk at the words that just came out of my mouth, "Good girl, using her manners."

I went to smile but before I could his lips crashed against mine, his one hand moving around my neck to settle on the dip beneath my head. He pushed our faces impossibly closer together. I was blushing, hard, my face was red hot and I felt as if any second I would start to sweat.

Theo's other hand found it's way down to my chest, kneading both boobs in one of his hands. His tongue jammed into my mouth, searching for something that was no where to be found. We stayed like that for a minute, tongues bumping into each other and saliva swapping between us. He pinched my nipples which caused me to pull back and yelp. That just made Theo smile wider.

He used the opportunity of me pulling back from him to kiss down my neck, onto my collarbone and my chest, finally ending up at my boobs. He took one nipple into his mouth and sucked on it. I tried to stifle my moan by biting my tongue.

He backed away from my nipple with a pop, "So pretty.. Can't believe we've never done this before."

My brain short circuited for a moment, "You've thought about this before?"

He laughed quickly, before going back to kneading my boobs with both hands. "How could I not, cara mia? You've sat in front of me in Muggle Studies for the past two years. I see your beautiful body every time you go to stand up or sit down.."

His words made me blush. I giggled at him and his confession. "You're cute, Nott."

He smiled at me for just a second before his eyes turned lust filled. He trailed his one hand from my chest down to beneath my short skirt, coming in contact with the white thong I wore. His fingers circled over the underwear as he looked up at me. Ever so slowly, he moved them over to the side and his fingers were now touching parts of me I only dreamed of him touching.

His index and middle finger made small, quick circles around the bundle of nerves. I laid back on his pillows, watching as he so carefully took control over me.

He looked up at me through his eyelashes, his mouth opening slightly and his eyes widened. Before I could ask if he was okay, I felt those same two fingers jam into me. My body shivered and a moan fell out from my lips.

He licked his lips, eyes flicking between his fingers pumping in and out of me and my face. "So.." He paused his movements, "tight." He jammed them back in, going deeper than I ever thought was possible. My back arched off the bed at his sudden movements. I was at his disposal and he knew it.

"So good, cara mia. So good.." He whispered, leaning his face down closer to my core as he stuck his tongue out and licked it.

I gasped, my hands flying to the edges of the bed to steady myself. He continued to lick up and down, occasionally sucking on the bud. It felt heavenly, this obviously was not the first time he had done this.

"Theo.. fuck me.." I managed to squeak out between moans. This made him smile at me.

"Your wish is my command, darling." He smirked, unbuttoning his suit pants.

I leaned up to help him, unbuttoning his top and loosening the tie as he worked to take his trousers off. Soon, his clothes were discarded on the floor. Except for his tie, he held onto his tie. I looked questioningly at it, my eyebrow raised.

"Put your hands together, behind your back." He demanded.

I did as I was told, and he used the red tie to bind my hands together behind me. He pushed me backwards, my shoulders hitting the soft mattress.

"Are you sure about this?" He leaned down closer to my face, planting soft kisses on my neck.

"Yes, please. Please, Theo." I begged, squirming beneath him.

The lust in his eyes grew as he pulled my panties and skirt down my legs. He shimmied his boxers off, exposing his impressive shaft. He had a reputation at school of having BDE (big dick energy) and I could now confirm that the rumors were true. Very true.

He wrapped his hand around it, pumping it a few times. He was rock hard, just from touching me. It was a bit of an ego boost, I wont lie.

He lined himself up with my core, pushing in painfully slow. I bit my lip, trying to quiet my moans but it was no use. I moaned loudly, causing his face to snap up at me.

"Quiet, cara mia." He warned, wrapping the hand that wasn't gripping my waist around my neck.

It was a light touch, until it wasn't. Theo began pushing himself in and out of me, faster until he was at a brutal pace. His hand around my neck tightened, my brain becoming more foggy than it already was. He continued on, using my core however he wanted to. My hands longed to touch him, but the tie around my wrists made it impossible.

"Flip over.." He said after pulling out, watching as I struggled to move from my back to my stomach.

He pulled my ass into the air, forcing me to arch my back into the bed. He pushed back in, hitting deeper than he was before. He pulled my hair into a ponytail, tugging on it so I was forced to press my back to his chest.

"Pretty angel.." He cooed in my ear, "Getting absolutely destroyed." He smirked.

I looked over my shoulder at him, the skeleton face paint still intact. It made him even hotter than he already was, if that was possible. His tongue was stuck out just slightly, curling around his bottom lip in concentration. His hips continued to buck up into me.

"Im close, Theo.." I whined.

"Good girl, go on. Finish all over me." He whispered, continuing his unrelenting pace.

I came undone on his shaft. My body was shaking and my breathing was staggered as I fell forward onto the pillows.

He moaned out random words of praise, before I heard him say "I'm gonna come too."

He groaned, erratically slamming his hips into mine. He pulled out at the last second, his hand wrapping around to stroke himself to finishing. His thick cum was all up my ass and back. We both moaned out a sigh of relief.

Theo stayed behind me for a second, before he patted his hand on my ass and got off the bed. He returned a few seconds later with a towel he used to wipe me down, being gentle like I truly was an angel in his arms.

"How was that?" He asked, smirking.

"Great.. Amazing.." I said, my chest still heaving for air.

He scooted me over to the inside of the bed, laying down next to me. He pulled me into his arms, leaving the softest kisses on the top of my head.

"Oh, cara mia. You did so well.." He praised me, running a hand through my hair and untying my wrists

We sat there for a few minutes, enjoying the moment. I traced shapes on his chest with my now free hand. I could hear the music from the party playing in the distance. I heard commotion from all sorts of people, drunk and high.

"Do you wanna go back to the party?" Theo asked after a while, moving my chin up to plant a kiss on my lips.

"No.. I don't think I can walk." I giggle.

He smiled down at me, laying back into the mattress.

#theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #smut #hogwarts #harry potter #fanfic #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott smut

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celestie0 · 11 months ago

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.7 to lose someone you love

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 7/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 8.5k

a/n. sighhh i'm rly sorry for the wait. and thank you sooo much to the love for the last chapter omg :') this chapter is gojo pov and it's a bit different than the rest, but i still hope you enjoy and that it was worth the wait. if there are typos, they're not typos they're actually 100% intentional and you are the silly one

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

When Gojo was just four years old, he called for the paramedics for the very first time.

He had wandered around the house, wide and innocent blue eyes searching the room for the landline in the dim light of the evening, his lip quivering in a pout. His small arm reached up to pet around at the top of his parents’ dresser before his fingers wrapped around the phone. He couldn’t remember what the number was at first, the one his mother always told him to call in case of an emergency, but he remembered he scribbled it down somewhere with red crayon in one of his coloring books. By the time Gojo first realized he needed to call for help, located the landline, looked through all of his little portraits of dinosaurs and spaceships sprawled across the carpet of his room, found those three numbers, and then finally dialed them, his father had already been seizing and shaking on the bathroom floor for longer than twenty-four minutes.

He was just a child. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know any better.

Gojo spent the remainder of that night hugging his mom in the hospital’s emergency room, his tears soaking through her shirt as she gently rocked him back and forth in her lap while whispering soothing words in his ear. His father lay motionless on the hospital bed before them, eyes shut, and Gojo will never forget the haunting sounds of the machinery that was keeping his father alive. It was a sudden onset seizure, likely stemming from the traumatic brain injury his father had suffered a few years ago, and the prolonged convulsions he experienced on the bathroom floor that night had resulted in severe brain damage. Gojo could still hear the echo of his mother’s silent cry when the doctors informed them that it’s unlikely his father would ever fully recover from this.

No reasonable adult would ever look a four-year-old in the eyes and say if you had called for help sooner or knew what to do, maybe your father would’ve still had the chance to live a long life. Yet, even at his young age, Gojo was aware of the energy in the room, and that explanation was the only truth his mind could grasp onto to make sense of what he had just witnessed.

After two weeks of clinging to life, his father miraculously woke up from his coma and persevered for the sake of his wife and son. Shortly after the incident, he began to have recurring seizures but fought through them each time. Without fail, he made Gojo breakfast in the mornings, even if it meant having to clean up the spilt orange juice on the counter every now and then because of how his hands could not stop trembling. He always walked Gojo to the bus stop, waving him goodbye, despite how troublesome and embarrassing he found it to use his cane. The love he had for his son was so palpable that it eclipsed the bitterness over how his life had ended up because of the blessing it had brought him.

In his prime, Gojo’s father was a renowned soccer player, so incredibly talented at the sport that he left a lasting mark on the way teams strategized, his presence on the field commanding respect, and he was one of the greatest talents the entire college division had ever seen.

He met Gojo’s mother at one of his freshman year games, a pretty lady in the stands that caught his eye from the sight of her laughter among her friends, her radiance drawing him to her from the field, and that’s how their love began. Exactly one year following that day, he stole one of his grandmother’s thrifted rings from her jewelry collection and that was what he used to propose. Gojo’s mother had accepted it with so many tears and so much snot running down her face, and he had never found her more beautiful. They married young and sweet, like most people back then.

During the thrilling semifinal match between Keio Uni, Gojo’s father’s team, and Yokohama Uni during the end of his senior year, spectators witnessed a game that most college soccer enthusiasts would deem was a once-in-a-lifetime watch. Both teams engaged in relentless offense, and Gojo’s father was on his way to shatter the record of the most goals scored in a single championship match within the history of the league, but when he received a call from his wife during a timeout with the most life-altering news he could have ever heard, he abandoned everything on the field that day to go home and be with her. Grainy footage from the televised broadcast still exists online today—the moment he sprinted across the field, confused players glancing in his direction, amidst the uproar of the crowd. She called to let him know she was pregnant.

No one knew that would be the last game of soccer he would ever play.

It was a freak accident, a distracted driver behind the wheel of a gray Chevy on a dark and rainy night, veered straight towards Gojo’s parents car to avoid a branch on the road. In a moment that could only be described as his instinct to protect, he quickly swerved his vehicle, taking the brunt of the impact on his side. His family surrounded him at his hospital bedside as they grappled with the news that he would be unable to play the sport ever again due to his traumatic brain injury that would lead to lifelong motor function loss. According to the doctors and police, had he not swerved to shield his wife and unborn child, the outcome would have been far more disastrous. After months of rehabilitation, he regained enough ability to walk and just enough function in his extremities to welcome his newborn son in his arms.

When Gojo was just six years old, two years after witnessing his father’s first seizure, he stumbled upon a dusty, forgotten soccer ball tucked away in the corner of the garage. When he eagerly presented it to his father, excitement gleaming in his eyes, he was only met with a scowl and the demand to discard it, to never bring such things like that to him ever again. His mother protested, ensuing in an argument, and as Gojo lowered his gaze to the ball in his hands, he noticed his father’s faded signature adorned with a heart and message of love for his mother. The ink, once vibrant, now faded with time.

It wasn’t until Gojo turned seven that his father finally relented to teach him more about the sport, knowing it was all his son wanted for his birthday. With determination in his heart, Gojo pleaded for his father’s guidance, eager to kick around a nearly deflated, weathered ball. His father watched his son, expression morphing from reserved and stoic, softening to surprise, then hopeful, and he found himself cheering on his son’s clumsy endeavors on the field despite how many times he tumbled and fell. Because that was his son, his pride and joy, reminiscent of him embracing the sport that he himself had cherished so many years ago.

As Gojo grew older and excelled at the sport, securing victory after victory in every youth league, his father’s health steadily declined. The recurring seizures caused by the brain damage from his prolonged convulsions on that fateful night exacerbated over the years and started to take an increasing toll on his body. Yet still, he never missed even a single one of his son’s games. Whenever Gojo swiftly sent the ball flying through the net, the first person his eyes would search for on the field was his father, the joy in his eyes being all he cared about in the world. Gojo lived to make his father proud, because it was the only thing that made him feel like he could make up for what little he had done to protect his father that night.

You were just a child. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know any better.

The day following Gojo’s eleventh birthday, his father had his second major seizure, falling into another coma, but this time he never woke up. Two years later, his mother made the tough decision to end his life-support, and then he was gone from their lives. Gojo’s mother was inconsolable, and he knew that his father took a piece of her soul with him to heaven that night. The piece that allowed her to smile.

one day, you’ll lose someone you love. and everything following will fail to have meaning.

But why was he remembering all of that now?

The shrill of Gojo’s alarm clock woke him up from the intrusive memories that were washing through the fore-front of his mind, and he grumbled to himself before whacking at his nightstand haphazardly to shut the thing off. He ran a hand across his face in an attempt to wipe the sleepiness away, features instantly settling into an annoyed scowl as he blinked his eyes open and the filtering sunlight through the windows harassed his vision.

He laid there for a few seconds, mending to the pounding headache at his temples with his fingers rubbing circles, and then he finally sat up in bed. Blinking at his sheets, the images of last night start to flash through his mind. The heavy music, the dim lighting of the bathroom, the dizzying jealousy, and the taste of you on his tongue–

The memory is supposed to arouse him, and would on any normal day, but because you had left him standing there stunned with no release of his own at all, he instead just feels a pulsing, soul-deep throbbing pain at his crotch that could really only be due to the fact he was left high and dry by you last night. He groans at the sensation, palm pushing down on his lower abdomen to try and relax the torture, which barely helped. It’s either he jerks off or takes a cold shower, and given the former was likely not possible for him right now since his god-forsaken brain decided to push the traumatizing experiences of his childhood to the forefront of his headspace first thing in the morning, meaning it’s unlikely he’ll be able to settle into the memory of you bent over that bathroom counter for him, he decides on the cold shower. And it’s safe to say that today already fucking sucked.

The moment the chill water hits the skin of his body, he recollects the look you had on your face right before you walked out on him. Soft, searching, to him almost seraphic, but you also looked wounded. And something from your anger with him since before he even had you in that bathroom, to the agonizing moment you left him in there by himself, told him he’d messed up big time with you somewhere along the lines.

He knew he had been a jerk last night. He didn’t really have much of a right to be seethingly possessive of you, but the sight of you kissing another guy had him seeing red and his knuckles turning white. He finds himself clenching his jaw at the unwelcome memory even now. He figured he probably ruined what would’ve otherwise been an enjoyable night for you, and so you decided to get revenge by walking out on him. However, he can’t shake the feeling that things are messy and complicated now, primarily because of him, and he felt like he needed to apologize for dragging you into his weird, confusing emotions.

He gets himself dry and dressed, grateful for the barely sufficient relief he had down south, and sighs as he grabs his phone and taps on your name, thinking about what to say to you, and just settles on typing out Hey, can we talk? and then presses send. He turns the ringer of his phone off, tosses the device onto his bed and then heads out the door.

Geto was sitting on the couch in the loft, rubbing an ice cube across his forehead as he sprawled on the cushions and let out low and consistent groans to himself. Gojo flopped down on the armchair across from him and assumed a similar position, rubbing at his temples to nurse his own headache. Geto opens an eye to look at him.

“Morning,” he grumbles.

“I take it I’m not the only one that feels like they’ve been hit by a truck?” Gojo asks.

Geto makes a disgruntled noise and throws his head back on the cushion. “I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. God knows how much I had last night.” He reaches over to the console table in the center for the bottle of Ibuprofen and tosses it to Gojo, who catches it and stares down at the label. “I didn’t really see you drink that much though. Don’t know why you’re hungover.”

Gojo sighs. He wasn’t hungover. His headache was from the fact that had a lot on his mind. Like the feeling of your skin last night. And then the pain of being blue-balled. And also for some reason his father’s death. Very exhausting to juggle those thoughts at once.

Gojo twists the cap off the bottle of Ibuprofen and pops two pills, drowning them in his mouth with Geto’s glass of water, then runs a frustrated hand through his hair. The man across from him raises an eyebrow.

“You good?” he asks.

“Super peachy,” Gojo replies.

He sighs. “Well, whatever it is, just make sure it doesn’t affect your play today,” Geto warns him, sinking further down into the couch. Gojo lets out an exhale through his nose. Geto usually pushed further for answers whenever he was in a mood, so the fact that he didn’t this time meant that hangover was bad.

“I’m more worried about you. You think you’ll be fine in a few hours?” Gojo asks. Geto just waves his hand in the air in response as he grabs the hand towel on his chest and drags it up over his face, shielding himself from the light of the room.

“I have no choice but to be fine. We have to win this game,” is all he says through muffling cloth.

Gojo nods, resting his elbows on his knees and looking down at the carpet. It was finally the game of the 28th, arguably the second-most important game of the season. If they take home the win, they’re automatically seeded into top sixteen teams, which means they’ll only have to win four more matches after today to take home the championship. But if they lose, they’re seeded to the bottom, and then four turns into a daunting eight. In the history of the league, not a single team has ever lost their pre-seed game and still continued to win the playoff championship. So Geto was right, they have no choice but to win today. Otherwise, they could kiss goodbye to a 12-year UTokyo championship streak.

“Not going for your run?” Geto asks, interrupting his thoughts.

“Nah, not feeling up for it,” Gojo replies.

He clicks his tongue. “Never skip the pre-game ritual, man.”

Gojo groans, knowing that he’s right, and so he reluctantly gets up off the chair and heads back into his room. His phone lay there on the bed, facing down, and he felt so tragically taunted by it that he weighed the options of whether or not he should check if you replied back before his run or after his run. And then he’s wondering why you affect him this much in the first place.

He resolves to check after his run, and only gets one arm through his shirt before his hands betray him and he snatches his phone, eagerly tapping the screen to turn it on.

He sees your name at the top, where you had just replied barely a minute ago. Sure, we can talk. He blinks at his phone when he sees the polite period at the end of your message, and the proper capitalization, not to mention a vocative comma? He was starting to feel really nervous.

He didn’t care that you had only replied a minute ago, he quickly typed out his response and sent it.

|| 10:35am Gojo: Do you know how to get onto the stadium field today?

He sees you typing, and he’s holding his breath.

|| 10:36am you: yes, I do. I’m going in w the newsletter journalists. Was this what you wanted to talk about?

What did he want to talk to you about exactly? Something like I’m sorry about being an ass last night, totally not cool for me to be that territorial over you, although I can’t say I wouldn’t do it again because seeing you kiss someone other than me kind of made me want to die. Also, I’m sorry for acting like you’re just someone I know, I don’t know why I did it. I guess it’s because I didn’t know if you thought of me as any more than just someone you know either, and that thought was frightening. Did I mention I hated seeing you kiss someone that wasn’t me?

He’s never really been good with words. Or feelings.

10:37am Gojo: No, it’s not, it’s something else. I’ll come find you on the field before the game starts

He stands there, gaze fixed on his phone screen for the minute-long pause you took to respond, that for him felt like tortured eons, just for you to send-

10:39am you: k

Gojo finishes getting dressed for his run, anxiety brewing in his stomach drearily, and when he heads out the door of the house, the fresh morning air doesn’t help calm him down like it usually does. Of course, as he’s running, his thoughts wander to you. He’s thinking about the smell of your hair–or was it the perfume on your skin?–either way, it was intoxicating. The curve of your neck, that spot that made you whimper– fuck. Think of other things. Like the sound of your voice, soft and sometimes needy, but he enjoys it that way–makes his head spin. Or when you’re being sweet and thanking him for something you shouldn’t, because to him everything about you was a privilege and never a task. Even in the hot spring sun of the late morning, he finds himself missing the warmth from your body, and that look. That goddamn look in your eyes when you’re peering into his like you want him to–

“I’m sure he’s really proud of you.”

His legs stop him on their own, like they know something about the feelings in his chest that he doesn’t, and he’s standing still on the sidewalk of the neighborhood now. Short puffs of air escape his lips from his blood pumping fast through his body, and he could physically hear the sound of you in his head. Intimate enough to where he turns to the side slightly facing his surroundings, like there was no way it was just a memory and you weren’t actually near. He finds himself swallowing hard and having to consciously keep moving forward.

Gojo makes it back to the house, freshens up for the second time today, and gets dressed into his UTokyo soccer uniform with his signature #10 jersey. He leaves with Geto to campus, where all his teammates gather before eventually boarding the bus to the UTokyo stadium field ten minutes away. Coach Yaga yells their ears off in the locker rooms in an attempt to get their plays for today through their brains, and the exhilarating noises from the stands as they make their formal entrance through to the field fills Gojo’s senses, along with the obnoxiously loud music playing as pre-game rituals settle in. Gojo sets his bag down on the bench and joins the others in warm-ups for about fifteen minutes, before catching a chance to sneak away and look for you across the expansive pristine grass.

After lightly jogging around the perimeter of the field for a couple of minutes, he finally spots you, his raised eyebrows now flattening under the fringe of his hair as he relaxes. He didn’t realize he was tensing his shoulders until now. You were just beyond the sidelines near a hydration station, fidgeting with something in your camera case, lips pressed together in a frustrated expression, and he saw your body sulk with the sigh you let out as you must’ve realized you had forgotten something. The corner of his mouth twitches upwards into a slight smile, an unconscious reaction to seeing you look so damn cute from your troubled face decorated with a pout. And then he remembered he had been looking for you, and he had found you, and the only thing to do next was to be near you.

He ambles up to you, and you only catch sight of him when he’s just a few feet away and finally standing in front of you. He sees your eyes widen slightly, lashes blinking once, twice, and then there’s a blush of color to your cheeks as you fidget with the stadium access badge hung around your neck. He noticed there were grass stains on your jeans over your knees when he looked down.

“Hey,” Gojo greets you over the loud music playing on the field.

“Hi,” he sees you say, and he realizes he can barely hear you.

“Let’s go over there,” Gojo yells, jerking his head over to the side.

He leads you over to an area tucked near the east side entrance, a corner slightly underneath one of the sectioned stands where the loud cheers of the stadium somehow reflected off less. It was about as private or silent of a place that the two of you could manage to have a conversation on a soccer field before a match, if you could just ignore the dressed up school mascots rehearsing their walk-ins and walk-outs through the entryway.

You take a few steps backwards until your back hits the concrete slab wall, and he’s in front of you as he watches you study him for a second, taking in the sight of his uniform, before your eyes finally meet his.

“Are you ready to take your photos today?” he asks you, poorly attempting to make small talk despite the images of you with him in that bathroom last night flashing through his memory. Now was seriously not the time to be turned on.

You nod, and respond “I am”, giving him absolutely nothing to work with.

He sighs. “Listen, about last night, I just wanted to apologize. For dragging you into that bathroom with me, although you did ask me to-” He sees you narrow your eyes and cross your arms across your chest. “Sorry,” he sighs, “Seriously, I just…I don’t know what got over me then.”

“You don’t know? Or you just don’t want to tell me?” you prod at him. He briefly considers pretending he doesn’t hear your question over the sound of the stadium, but he knows he wouldn't get away with that, not with the way you’re looking at him like he’s just one more fuck-up away from making you storm off.

He looks at your lips. “I guess the only thing I know is that I didn’t like seeing you kiss someone else.”

You shake your head and close your eyes. “I know you didn’t, Satoru. Otherwise last night wouldn’t have happened. What I’m asking is why.”

He’s struggling now, searching his head for answers, like he’s fighting for his life on a test that he didn’t study for. When he looks down, he notices your foot has been tapping impatiently. And when he looks back up, there’s that wounded expression from last night again. “I don’t know,” is all he can offer.

You uncross your arms from your chest, lips parting slightly as your eyebrows pinch upwards with a disheartened look. He sees your gaze shift slowly across the features of his face, searching, and he wonders if you can see something within him that he can’t. The thought terrifies him. “Fine. It’s my turn to speak.”

He nods slowly. He wasn’t sure what you wanted to say to him. He imagined you would just cuss him out with a few choice words for being a raging asshole last night and then you’d be on your merry way. But he senses sincerity in your voice. Not that he was phenomenal at reading people, though.

He watches as you clench and unclench your fists at your sides nervously, then twiddle with the strap of your camera, then tuck your hair behind your ears, then blink rapidly as you look up at him, then worry your bottom lip between your teeth, then open your mouth to speak just to close it again.

“Do you need me here for any of this?” he says in an attempt at a joke to ease you, but when all you give him is a glare, he’s fearful enough to be serious again.

“I like you.”

He blinks. “Thanks? I like you, too.”

“No, no. I like you as in I have feelings for you,” you clarify. Gojo’s eyes widen at the confession, and he stands up straighter.

“Oh,” he finally replies when he realizes he hasn’t said anything yet, “I…I wouldn’t have guessed that.” Holy shit, if that was how you felt, then he really has been a raging asshole this entire time.

You roll your eyes. “I know. You’re a hopelessly dense, menacingly flirty, sleazy frat dude college athlete,” you sigh, “But I still like you. Unfortunately, tragically, annoyingly, much to my dismay, against my better judgment,”

“Okay, I get it-”

“I think it started that night you stayed with me when I was stranded with my flat,” you confess suddenly, your chest rising a little bit faster, and his expression softened. “I just really appreciated you being there for me.”

His voice is gentle when he speaks next. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I would’ve been there if it happened ten times over,” he pauses, “although I’d seriously question your ability to drive if it happened that many times.”

“And I think it started when you walked me out to the practice field for the first time, and you told me you cared about my dreams,” you say with a slight step forwards to him, unable to acknowledge his words at all, as if there was a script you needed to stick to that was the only thing keeping you from falling apart in front of him.

He finds himself instinctively leaning towards you, close enough to where he notices you’re wearing a different perfume today. “But that was before the night of your car incident,” he reminds you.

“I know,” you nod, and there’s that look in your eyes that he loves, “and I also think it started that first night we met and you looked sad when I said we weren’t friends.”

Gojo’s eyes widen, his heart skipping a beat in his chest, and he finds himself breathing shallowly as he listens to your words. “y/n…I think you’re working backwards here.”

“I’m trying to say I’ve had feelings for you this whole time,” you say to him, “they were tiny at first, I didn’t really see them, but now they’re too big for me to hold all by myself.”

Gojo nods slowly, and he already knows what you’re going to ask of him next.

“I like you in a way that makes me want more from you,” you admit, eyes steadily on his with resolve, “I don’t want to be just someone you know, or someone only for sex-”

“y/n-” he tries to interrupt you.

“And I certainly won’t be someone that sits around to wait for a guy if he doesn’t want me back,” you say, but there’s an apprehensive look in your eyes when you speak next, “so, I need you to answer to my feelings.”

Gojo blinks at you, his heart beating fast in his chest from your confession, and he feels like with every testing second that he fails to answer you back, you slip further and further away from him.

He knew he had affection for you. He always wanted to be close to you, even when he already was, as if he couldn’t get close enough. He wanted to take care of you, and see that softness in your expression when he knew you felt safe and happy. He couldn’t stand the thought of you with someone else, and it took him this damn long to realize as he stood in front of you that he had no interest in being with anyone else either. So then why did his chest feel so tight? And why was he struggling so much to give you an answer?

one day, you’ll lose someone you love. and everything following will fail to have meaning.

Gojo’s eyes widened as the memories of his life flashed through his mind, a chill running down his spine as they knock the wind from his lungs and he feels that same sense of dread that has been following him like a ghost since that day when he was just four years old, standing in the hallway, wondering why his father was having a nightmare on the bathroom floor when he should’ve known it was something far worse than that.

Gojo blames himself for so much that had gone wrong in his life. And he should know that it’s not his fault, but all of his grief was greedy to breathe and live, desperate to find a reason for why he had to lose someone he loved, and his grief found a home in all of his guilt.

And he was terrified to lose someone close to him again. Even if he decided to see what could become with you, even if he thought for a moment that he was allowed to feel any sort of happiness with you, the thought of falling short and failing frightened him. He was so tired of adding to a long list of regrets in his life. And he knew he wasn’t what you needed— what you deserved.

“I…” he starts, swallowing the lump in his throat, “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel the same way about you.” He knows he sounds convincing enough from the way the light in your eyes dimmed, anticipation faltering and replaced with a sad expression over your features. He needs to take a shaky breath to continue speaking. “It seems I’ve led you on in a lot of ways, and I apologize for that. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen anymore.”

You’re silent for a long moment, twiddling with your fingers as you look up at him. “I see…” you say, and when he sees your lower lip quiver slightly, he feels sick. His instinct is to reach out for you, pull you closer to him, but he knows that’s not a luxury you would allow for him, and he knew it wasn’t one he deserved either.

Your voice is trembling when you speak next. “I appreciate you letting me know. And you don’t have to worry about not leading me on anymore, because this will be the last time you see me.”

His entire body runs rigid.

“Why?” It’s a stupid question, but he asks it anyway.

“So I can get over you.”

All he can do is stand with the feeling of a chill in his bones.

“And I ask that you’ll respect my space while I do,” you add on at the end.

He’s silent for a long moment, then lets out the breath he was holding in. “I will,” he says, the promise leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

There’s a moment where you both just look at each other, as though the two of you were trying to hold onto the moment, but you’re the one to break out of it first, and he’s the one to wish it would’ve lasted a little longer.

“I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” The words already sounded like goodbye. “I’ll make sure you look nice in your photos,” you say with a small smile, holding your camera up slightly, “and good luck today.”

He wonders if he’ll regret this moment.

“Thanks.”

He steps aside so that you can walk past him and back out to the field. Gojo takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly, and relaxes his shoulders. Well, that was intense. Definitely not the direction he thought that conversation was going to go in at all, but that’s fine. He handled it fine. Totally fine. Things were going to be totally fine. He just has to play the match now.

The first step he takes back towards the field, he feels his uneasiness return, with the second step the feeling of his heart beating becomes violent in his head, with the third step he swears he can’t feel the tips of his fingers, with the fourth he feels severely nauseous, and with his fifth- was he seriously about to throw up?

He barely makes it back onto the grassy field cutting across the obstacles of people at the sidelines, using all his strength to not double over before he reaches a table and grabs one of the water bottles. He sees a group of men, all dressed in suits and loitering near the team manager’s station, perk their heads up at the sight of him and he’s groaning internally. The last thing he wanted to do right now was talk to any damn recruiters, but he sees one of them bold enough to approach him in his periphery. He sighs, taking one last gulp of water, and tries to stand up straight and look like he wasn’t going insane.

“Hi, I’m Jousuke Tsuda, recruiter for Tokyo Metropolitan’s national league team,” he says and stretches his hand out for Gojo to shake. The man looked aged, with thick creases to his forehead that could only mean he’s witnessed a hell of a lot of life and he has the soul to prove it.

Gojo’s eyes widen at the mention of Tokyo-Met’s team, and he grabs onto the man’s hand in as firm of a handshake he could manage. “Gojo Satoru.”

The man laughs. It’s deep with a slight crackle. “I know your name, son. Every recruiter in the country does. You’ve got a lot of eyes on you right now.”

“I’m flattered.”

The man raises an eyebrow at him. “Surely you feel pressured.”

Gojo only hums to himself.

The man glances at his watch. “I know the match starts in a few, but if I could have a moment of your time. Take a walk with me?”

“Sure.”

The two trail down the line of the field. “I’ll get straight to the point, kid. Tokyo-Met’s really keen on scouting you for the national league following your graduation,” he says.

Gojo feels like he should be excited about that news, actually, he should be ecstatic and groveling at this man’s feet, but instead he just feels empty and hollow inside.

“Forget the fact that you’ll be playing in the nation’s most revered team,” the man continues, “but compensation is high, too.” He pulls his phone out from his front suit pocket, tapping away at his calculator app, then turns the screen towards Gojo. Holy shit. “I’m talking about a 350 million yen per year contract here. I could advocate for higher based on how well you perform the rest of the season.”

“I…I don’t know what to say,” Gojo responds.

The man is silent for a second then sighs. When the two of them reach a somewhat secluded bench near the corner of the field, he sits down on it and expects Gojo to do the same, to which he complies.

“You know, I’m used to much more enthusiastic reactions from players that hear this kind of news, although they’re usually ecstatic for barely a hundred million a year compared to what I’ve just offered you,” the man says.

“I guess it’s the pressure,” Gojo says to him, “it’s got my emotional response circuit all fried up, y’know?” He was pulling excuses out of his ass.

A small hmph noise is heard beside him before he sees the man pulling a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his slacks. “I know your father has left big shoes to fill, kid. I can’t imagine the fear of feeling like you’ll fail, or the anxiety of an injury taking you out any time you’re on the field, not wanting history to repeat itself.”

Gojo’s eye twitches and he narrows his eyes at the man seated beside him. “My dad got injured in a car accident, not while playing the sport.”

“I know,” he responds, finally pulling a cigarette out of the pack, holding it between his two fingers as he rests his wrist on his knee. “The story touched the hearts of everyone in Tokyo, and the entire soccer community in general. I remember reading about it in the school newspaper. Back in the day when they still printed those things out.” Gojo’s surprised, and he’s only given a sideways smile before the man continues. “I knew your father, went to the same college as him.”

“I don’t think he ever mentioned you,” Gojo says.

He lets out a hearty laugh. “He despised me. I was a money-hungry finance major that saw a huge opportunity in mediator sports recruitment agencies. Figured if I could sign a player like your father to my start-up, I’d be set for life. He was a smart man not to sign, regardless of how things turned out.” He shakes his head musingly. “I gave up after that and got a real job. You’ll find a lot of your hopes and dreams die in college.”

“I see,” Gojo says.

The man leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and looks over with a serious expression on his face. “Tell me, son, what does this sport mean to you? Why have you dedicated your entire life to playing it?”

Gojo only gives him a cursory glance.

“Is it the fame and attention? The pride? The thrill? The prospect of earning millions and then retiring at thirty, and you get to watch your wife and kids playing in your grand estate’s pool on a sunny summer Sunday while you’re swirling around a glass of ‘90s scotch in your hand?” he asks, tone derisive but luring. “Or does it mean something more to you?”

Gojo looks down at his hands that were clenched tightly into fists. He relaxes them so that his fingers fall open weakly and his palms face the sky. He remembers the feeling of being a kid, the smell of freshly cut grass consuming his senses, the sight of bruises on his knees from how many times he fell on the field chasing after the ball, and the admiration in his father’s eyes every single time he stood back up. “It’s a chance to prove myself,” he finally says.

“Prove yourself of what?” the man pushes.

“That I’m capable of greatness,” Gojo admits, “like my father.”

The man nods slowly in acknowledgment. “Yes, your father was a great man. But not because of how he played the game. He was a great man because he knew which sacrifices were truly important.”

Gojo looks at him wearily. “Are you trying to tell a player you’re attempting to recruit that the sport isn’t important?”

He shakes his head, looking straight ahead. “No, it’s important. But it’s the meaning you give to your life outside of it that gives it importance.”

Gojo raises an eyebrow at him, not really sure what to make of the cryptic sentiment.

The man claps his hands together and stands up. “Alright, I’m sure that’s all the time you’ve got for me. Think about my offer, and if any other recruiters approach you with better ones, just know I’ll push for higher.” He hands Gojo his business card and brings his cigarette to mouth, balancing it between his lips. “Reach out if you have any questions.”

Gojo looks down at the card, his finger tracing the edge of it as he studies the shimmering gold lettering. “Why not just hit me with your best offer and leave? Why bother having this kind of conversation with me?”

The man pulls his cigarette from his mouth, pinching it between his two fingers once again. “We’ve all got regrets we want to make right, kid,” he says. And with his hands in his pockets, he walks away.

Gojo watches the man as he makes his way down the sidelines back to the cluster of men in suits. When he hears the referee whistle, he shoves the business card in the pocket of his uniform shorts, and makes his way towards the center of the sidelines.

His teammates instantly come up to him with optimistic smiles and encouraging pats on his chest and back, trying to keep the energy high to manifest a win for today, but Gojo just feels exhausted and like he’s drowning. He has so many thoughts swimming around in his head, he can’t even begin to explain, and he just wants someone to see through him at this moment.

The teams stand on the field for the national anthem, and then Osaka Uni’s team disperses while UTokyo’s alma mater plays. Coach Yaga yells for all the players to huddle before the coin toss and reminds them of their plays for the afternoon.

Nanami pulls his sweatbands onto his wrists, Geto pulls his hair back up into a bun, Chosou pulls tightly on the straps of his goalie gloves, and Gojo pushes his hair up off his forehead to snap his headband onto his face. He looks around to his other teammates and that sense of pride he feels to be a part of this team swells dully despite his emotions.

UTokyo wins the coin toss, choosing to kick, and Gojo finds his place in the center of the field. The crowd is already cheering preemptively, their pride in their home team evident in the passion of the filled stands, and Gojo peers across the large expanse of the field as he rests his foot on top of the soccer ball. It’s a scene he’s seen a hundred times in his life, but the sight is daunting today. He takes his foot off the ball when he hears the referee signal the start of the match with a short piercing shrill of his whistle, and the second Gojo draws his leg back and his foot makes contact with the ball, sending it flying forward, he can already feel that something feels very off.

Every single time he had the ball in his possession, his footwork felt heavy and delayed. His teammates had set up more than three chances for him to score, and he shot wide every single time. The crowd’s cheers started to diminish, and he could feel the growing discontent and exasperation from all eyes on the field. Ten minutes before halftime, they were down 1-0, and stakes were starting to feel high.

One of his teammates passes a ball right to Gojo’s favored foot, the crowd instantly erupting with noise and stands to their feet as Gojo shuffles the ball past the penalty line, through Osaka’s defenders, eyes locked with the perfect opportunity to strike. This was good, he had his rhythm back, even if just for a moment, and he can see it, clear as day–the trajectory to the goal. With the feeling of slick sweat on his face and determination in his veins, he withdraws his leg back to kick the ball. The world went silent in his head, the only sound being the beating of his heart, and-

“this will be the last time you see me.”

When he recalls your voice, everything moves in slow-motion as his ankle slips slightly on the grass from his moment of hesitation, and then the ball is swiftly stolen by an opposing team player and maneuvered past him.

“Fuck!” he hisses, immediately turning his head around as he helplessly watches the opponents players move with fervor in pursuit of another goal. The crowd hushed in horror as Osaka passed the ball through UTokyo’s defense, swiftly steadying down the side and sending the ball flying through Chosou’s outstretched arms. 2-0, and the lead ref calls for halftime.

“Dude,” one of his teammates comes up to him as they walk back towards the benches and throws his arms up in the air, “what the hell is wrong with you today?”

“Seriously, man, not a single goal in the first half? You know how many times I’ve set up a shot for you?" another one of his teammates chimes in, nudging Gojo’s shoulder way harder than he’d usually warrant, and shortly after, a blaming fest begins among the players.

“Enough!” Coach Yaga yells out. All of the players quiet down and look at him, some grudgingly gulping down water while others just try to regain their breath. Gojo’s arms just hang at his sides in defeat. “We’re pushing everything on offense now, we can’t afford to miss any more shots,” Coach Yaga says, his fear of losing the match evident too despite his rough tone, “Satoru, I’m switching you out. Dai, take his place.”

“What?” Gojo asks incredulously, charging forward so he’s in front of the older man. “I’m not getting benched.”

“You will, because I say so,” Coach Yaga says sternly, “you’re distracted, boy. I can see it all over your face.”

“I’m n-”

“Just sit down,” Coach Yaga lets out a disgruntled noise. “When players are distracted, they get injured. Have faith in your teammates.”

“Coach,” Gojo asks again, this time almost pleading. He hardly ever questioned Coach Yaga’s calls, he had a great deal of respect for the man. But something within him just absolutely refused to get benched today.

Coach Yaga stares at him for a long moment, and it’s only when one of the refs chirps their whistle that he finally exhales and gives him a reluctant jerk of his head towards the field.

Geto sets up the perfect shot for Nanami to sweep for a kick that barely lands through the goalie’s lunge for the ball, and then on the next play, secures another goal himself. The score is tied, 2-2, with eight minutes left on the clock. Gojo manages to steal the ball on a defensive play, and it’s only really a stroke of luck that he manages in one solid pass the entire game, straight to Geto’s foot, crowd roaring, and he watches his best friend shoot and sink within the last minute and a half of the game.

3-2. UTokyo’s win.

Gojo sighs, exhausted as he makes his way to the bench, crouching down and zipping open his duffle bag. Spirits are low among the team despite the excitement from the crowd over their win because of how hauntingly close the loss felt during the last moments of the match, disinterested in celebrating at all as they meekly dispersed across the field. Gojo knew he was going to get a massive yelling-to from Coach Yaga and he could feel the searing disappointment from his teammates for not carrying the game more. This was just a bare win, could’ve gone either way, and his performance today wasn’t a good look for any recruiters either. He felt so emotionally and physically drained from this entire day, and he wasn’t sure how the hell he could feel any better.

Shuffling through his bag for a water bottle, his knuckles hit something cold and metallic-sounding tucked away inside. He hums to himself curiously before grabbing it and pulling it out.

strawberry vanilla soda.

Hm. This wasn’t the one you gave him a couple of days ago. He already drank that one. Did you sneak this into his bag? His brow furrows, and he stares at the sparkling smiling sloth on the label. When he turns the can in his hand, he sees a little note messily scribbled in black ink.

good luck today! u got this :) ur a star

His eyes widened.

And putting his heart through a shredder would’ve hurt less than when he realizes what an idiot he’s been this entire time.

He’s instantly searching the field, peering through crowds of people, mascots, banners, flags, for any sight of you. He’s not sure how or why he goes in the direction that he does, but deep down it’s because he knows you like taking millions of pictures of flowers, and the west side exit has endless blooms of them. And so when he runs out that way, cleats tapping against the concrete pavement that leads out into the courtyard in the front of the stadium, and spots you standing there, he finally lets out the breath of air he feels like he’s been holding in his chest all day.

You’re aiming your camera at teal and orange petals scattered across the decorative florals lining the raised concrete planters, then pull it down from your face and twiddle with the settings, tilting your head to the side. You then pluck at one of the blooms that was spilling over the edges, bringing it to the tip of your nose curiously. And he just watches, chest heaving from the urgency that he rushed to get to you, heart aching from the desperation of wanting to be near you. He wanted to ask you how you were feeling, he wanted to know how your pictures came along, he wanted to know what you were doing after this, and he wanted you to be with him. But most importantly, he wanted to make sure that this wasn’t the last time he ever saw you again.

It isn’t until a minute after that you seem keen on his presence too, and you swiftly turn your head in his direction, surprised. “Satoru?” you say. He wonders if he’ll melt. He wonders if those ice-cold barriers he’s built over the years could thaw just from the way you say his name.

But when he takes a step forward, you take a step back. And he halts. The expression on your face was unfamiliar to him. Once soft, curious, trusting. Now you looked at him like you were guarding something, keeping it safe from him, and he no longer had the right to intrude. And then he realizes the hell he’s put you through all this time.

He regrets pushing you away.

“I know I said I’d respect the fact that you want space,” he says through bated breath, “but I…I just can’t stand the thought of never seeing you again.”

You’re solemn when you look at him, reading the plea in his eyes, and then slowly shake your head. He feels like he can’t breathe.

“I’m sorry. Goodbye.”

And then you walk out of his life.

a/n. thank you for reading! i have a few more author notes that explain a few things that i couldn't really find a way to fit into the chapter organically, but wanted to address before moving on, if you're curious you can find them here. hope to see you in the next one! pls lemme know if i missed any tags i'm sorry if i did :')

➸ take me to chapter eight!

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @lost-resonance @foulprincesscycle @purplehallow11 @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @erencvlt @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @hojoslutoru @drthymby @ninitoru @btszn @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @fvsm4x @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @cierocanteat (thank you to everyone <3)

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anadiasmount · 2 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/anadiasmount/766146994146295808/could-you-write-something-about-jude-realising

I loved the only jude pov idea so could you write something about jude telling his (and/or your) parents that he wants to marry you and he’s been thinking about it for a while and that he’s convinced you’re the love of his life and he will do anything he can to prove it to you every single day

this might be a little rough but hubby jude has my heart… 😕😕

“here’s your morning juice and vitamins, don’t forget we have a dinner tonight,” you half understood jude as he spoke quickly, he was late for training like usual, but he never left without saying goodbye. whether you were awake or not, a kiss on your cheek and he was gone for the day. though today seemed different, felt different but you brushed it off.

jude was running late to his appointment, he had no training today but you didn’t have to know that. he went to a small yet very popular jewelry store in downtown madrid, where he had picked out your dream engagement ring. he needed your friends help and they were more than willing to make that trip and helping out a nervous jude.

the ring was set to pick up, and he would ask for your parents blessing tonight when you visited them. you were oblivious, they were oblivious. only your friends and him knew about this. yet all he wanted was the scream that he was closer to marrying you. he had no doubt that you’d say yes. jude knew you wanted to get married, with him. you had drunkenly confessed after a night out and reminded him weeks later when you said your first “i love you’s”.

so jude was ready. you were ready.

you had graduated and landed your dream job. he considered you as his wife already. you knew him from the back of your hand but with jude, he wouldn’t fail to answer any questions related to you. whether it was from your favorite foods, to a movie, to a makeup product, to a favorite memory, he knew all of you. inside and out.

your friends had gasped and covered their mouth, eyes tearing up when jude showed them the ring. they all were in awe, jude especially since it was getting real for him. he couldn’t deny that feeling in his chest, getting choked up with his own emotions, knowing you were his forever home. the only home he wanted to be in, in this life and the other. “it’s absolutely gorgeous jude!” one of you friends reclaimed.

“our y/n is going to love it!” replied your other friend to while jude let out a breath of fresh air. “when do you plan to pop the question?” they asked, “after international break, we have a couple days together and i want to take her on a small getaway. but i want to get her parents blessings first, which we’re doing today because we’re going over,” jude nodded, hearing them let out a small squeal of excitement.

“look mom…” jude whispered, his dad sitting down next to her as jude pulled out the red velvet box from his back pocket. “is this what i think it is?” she gushed, opening the box gently, her hand resting against her chest as she admired the ring. “having this around me is so tempting you don’t understand. all i want is to ask her to marry me,” jude smiled, immediately thinking of you.

“i don’t even have to ask if you’re sure, your eyes and smile say it all,” his dad said making jude look at them. “we’re happy for you both. there’s no doubt in my mind that the two of you are made for each other. while marriage can be hard, it’s also the most beautiful thing that’s ever been created. she’s your soulmate, protect that forever,” his dad continued, standing up to give jude a hug. where he couldn’t contain his emotions.

“thank you guys for everything…”

on the way back, jude had picked up a few groceries and snacks for you. along with his bouquet of flowers since it was time to get a refresh. making sure to stock up on waters and different beverages as well.

after a while jude had returned back to your house, immediately looking to see where you were. “y/n? darling?” he asked, “in here! i’m in the study!” you yelled, meeting jude by the doorway where he engulfed you into his arms. “god i missed you so so much,” he murmured, smelling the sweet scent of your hair. you tippy toed and pressed a small kiss on his lips.

jude laughed at the small state you were in, hair in rollers, and he was guessing setting powder beneath your eyes and nose. “i’m almost done getting ready, i just had to quickly take a call because they needed me to give authorization for something. do you know what you’ll wear?” you say as you walked into the kitchen and drank water.

“yes i do…” jude couldn’t stop staring at you, that look he gave you full of love and respect. “i know i look funny but it’s just the powder,” you laughed, “stop! why are you looking at me like that!” you exclaimed walking over to where he sat. “because i love you, but you do look a little goofy with this on,” he joked feeling the playful slap on his shoulder. “go get ready! now before we catch traffic!” you said seriously while jude just nodded.

while jude anticipated to be nervous, he wasn’t. the sense of comfort yet worth filling his head. this was a huge deal, asking your parents for their blessing. but jude could radiate the answer from a mile away. the love you had together was so traditional and old school, the two of you loved that. it didn’t exist much these days, but the love you and jude had made everyone around you feel alive and happy.

as the night filled with laughs and talks of the past, you had taken over and helped your sister in law with the babies. jude knew this was his chance so he booked it, watching as you disappeared and went upstairs. “could i talk to you both?” he whispered seeing how their faces pulled into confusion but followed him either way. the three of them sat in the living room, jude pulling the ring back out from his back pocket.

“i’ve never in my life been so tempted to risk it all for a person. y/n is my person. my happiness. my home. my all in this world. i never knew if i’d find that. but with y/n it was a quick and undeniable feeling. i feel like i’ve known her my whole life. she knows me more than i know myself, and i knew she’s the one for me since she’s stood and sacrificed for our love…” jude said, your mother letting out a few tears as she looked at the ring.

“it would be an honor if i could have your blessing to marry your daughter. i promise you now i will take care of her forever. not just for marriage, but it’s because im giving you my word. because i love her with my entire heart…” jude asked shakily, knowing how much this meant to you and him. knowing this is just a step closer to finally having your happy ever after.

“you have my blessing jude,” your dad said, standing up and hugging him deeply, knowing there’s no hesitation because jude has never given them the reason. that he knows jude isn’t lying and will stick to his word. “yes you can marry my little girl,” your mother gushed going to jude and hugging him tighter, the two men laughing. “you did an amazing selection with the ring… she will love it,” she said.

“i’m willing to prove whatever it takes to show her how much i love her…” jude sealed. “what are you all doing without me,” you came back with a huge smile, joining your parents and boyfriend.

“i want in on whatever it is…”

#judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader

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twstedreamweaver · 7 months ago

Text

Missing Magazines

Octavinelle with a Fashion Model Reader

How would the Octavinelle boys react to you being a model? Based on the premise that you, the reader, are a model and are featured in a popular fashion magazine that Sam sells at the school - except when you go to buy one, you realize that someone bought out almost all the magazines. Who could it be?

Things to mention: Azul never stopped signing contracts with people and the Octotrio are still shady. Reader is slightly different from canon Yuu. Also, this is my first fanfic, so I apologize in advance for any inconsistencies with POV! Twisted Boys featured: Azul, Jade, Floyd

The warm sun was a welcome surprise after several dreary weeks of intermittent rains and grey skies. Throngs of students were happily milling about on the central lawn, some boys from Savanaclaw were throwing a Spelldrive Disc like a frisbee, and you spotted some Ignihyde students actually touching grass for once.

With the passing of the Spring rains, Night Raven College seemed to spring back to life with the touch of a little sunshine.

And just in time for the release of the summer edition of one of the top magazines in Twisted Wonderland, Fleurs de la mode. However, this edition was special - it was your first official modeling gig for a fashion magazine.

Admittedly, when you were first scouted by a modeling agent at the NRC's Song and Dance Championship, you were hesitant (I mean, after dealing with the outrageous amount of con artists at NRC, who wouldn't be skeptical), but the Fleur City Associates modeling agency turned out to be legitimate. After some back and forth with your agent, and several gigs later, you got the opportunity to model for a popular fashion magazine on account of your unique "otherworldly'" flair, which you assumed was a weird compliment from one of your managers. Regardless, your nerves had long since worn off with the first paycheck (thaumarks are hard to come by) and now you were excited to see your hard work in print.

"Welcome back, my little imp." Sam waved from behind the counter. "What can I conjure for you today?"

"Good morning, Sam!" You smiled, "I heard that you just got in the newest edition of Fleurs, could I buy one off you?"

Sam gave you a peculiar look, before smiling - wait, was that a trace of a smirk?

"I do apologize little imp, but I am fresh out of stock. Those magazines flew off the shelves this morning."

"Wait, but didn't you just open like thirty minutes ago?"

You were a bit disappointed. On one hand, you didn't really need the magazine, but on the other hand, it would've been nice to have at least some proof of your accomplishment in this strange world. At a school where magic was the highest priority, it was nice to finally be known for something that wasn't just your lack of magic ability.

"Yes but, eh hee hee, it seems the magazine was quite popular this time around." Sam snickered. You sighed.

"However," Sam continued, "You've lucked out this time little imp, For the same price as a magazine, I can tell you who bought out half my stock. I'm certain that you can get one from him for free!"

"Thanks Sam, for the, uh, considerate offer, but I think I'll pass!" You remarked, trying to think of who might have bought out such a large stock of magazines.

"Are you certain, my little imp?" Sam leaned over the counter, smiling, a bit too maliciously for your liking. "Don't you want to see your magazine debut firsthand?" Huh?

You were only featured on a few pages, so how did he even know you were in there? Did he actually read the fashion magazine? Looking at his attire, you find that highly doubtful.

"How'd you know about that?" You inquired, trying not to sound overtly suspicious.

"Why else would so many imps be standing in line outside my shop at seven in the morning?" Sam, for sure, was smirking this time.

No way. How did this get around? You felt your face go hot, suddenly embarrassed. Hold on, you reasoned with yourself. Vil is a model too, along with some other Pomefiore students, so students modeling shouldn't be a shock to anyone!

But if the reason the magazines sold out so quickly was - that is, if Sam's not tricking you - because of your shoot, then why would anyone buy half of the entire stock? Especially at Sam's ridiculous prices.

You sighed; you'll figure this out later.

"I'm good, Sam. Thanks for the offer, but I've got to get going to my next class." You quickly backed away from Sam and ducked out the front door before he could cut you off with another suspicious offer.

"Come back anytime little imp!" The door swinging shut behind you as Sam big you goodbye.

God, was there a single good person in this school??

Wait, a realization suddenly hit you. The guy who bought half the magazines, was it-

——-

You practically stomped across the school, through the mirror room, and into the Octavinelle dorm.

You didn't lie to Sam earlier; you really did have to go to class. And then after four classes and nearly eight hours, you had to go to club. So, now it was practically late afternoon, and you were only now on your mission to hunt down the buyer of some 60+ magazines.

The moment you stepped inside Mostro Lounge, two tall, ominous figures seemed to materialize directly beside you.

"Hello Jade. Hey Floyd."

"Shrimpy!" Floyd exclaimed, before wrapping his long arms around your torso and squeezing tightly.

"Now now, Floyd," Jade smirked, "Let's not squeeze the life out of our little Prefect."

"I'm here to discuss some things with Azul." You told the two 6-foot-tall eels.

You must have sounded agitated because Floyd and Jade quickly took the hit and grabbed onto each of your arms respectively and dragged walked me to the VIP room.

"Now then, who are we to interfere with your business affairs?" Jade let go of your left arm to open the large, ornate VIP room doors.

"Only VIP access for our Shrimpy!" Floyd exclaimed, striding into the VIP room where some student was groveling on his hands and knees, begging Azul for something. I noticed that he had a small anemone sprouting from his head, looks like Azul got another freshman. Grinning, Floyd roughly grabbed the poor student by his shirt collar and unceremoniously threw him out the door.

Jade sinisterly smiled at the boy, before bending down to say something in a hushed tone, causing the boy to squeal and shuffle away frantically. Jade smirked, stood, and walked over to stand beside the seated and slightly flustered Azul, as Floyd slammed the doors.

For once, and to my astonishment, Azul, usually the pristine image of a savvy businessman, looked a little nervous.

You were surprised that he didn't even object to Floyd tossing his client (more likely his victim, given the anemone) out.

Azul pursued his lips and tented his fingers on the table, before taking a breath and seeming to regain his composure.

"Why, (Y/N), to what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening?"

Azul typically spoke formally and eloquently, but given your and his relationship as friends, his behavior was a little, unusual. Something smelled fishy, and it wasn't the fish swimming outside or the mermen in the room.

You chalked it up to your own misunderstanding of the situation, or to Azul already going into business mode to prepare for what was coming.

"I'm here about the Fleur magazines you bought."

For a brief second, the three (well, more like two, Floyd just seemed slightly humored) seemed to go pale. Azul gave you a blank stare, mouth slightly open, and Jade turned away to focus intently on the wall with a trace of a grimace on his face. Floyd chuckled and looked at Azul.

Weirdos. What is up with them today?

"You're reselling those Fleur magazines for a profit, aren't you?" You continued on.

A brief moment passed. Jade turned back to look at you and Azul quickly snapped back to reality with a small laugh and a smirk.

"Yes! Why, you deduce correctly, Prefect, I did buy the remaining stock in order to resell them. They're quite in high demand, given your popularity amongst the student body."

"I apologize if you wanted to buy one, but I couldn't miss such a lucrative and perfectly legal business opportunity!" Azul cloyingly apologized, gesturing with his hands in a show of mock apology.

Floyd and Jade nodded along in fake sincerity. Seems you guessed right after all.

"Okay, seeing that you're admitting it, I'm not really that mad. But, also, seeing that you're going to profit off my face, I have a proposal."

The three leaned forward. "Do go on," Azul nodded.

"I can sign my picture in one of the magazines, so you can ramp up the price, and, in return, I can get a free magazine."

"Done!" Azul exclaimed, magically flying over a contract to you. You have no idea how he managed to write one so fast, because it seemingly materialized out of thin air.

The contract wasn't wordy and there were no terms and conditions. You suppose it makes sense given how simple the agreement is, but it still seemed quite hasty.

Regardless, after reading it over twice - it is Azul after all - you signed, and Azul magically lifted the contract and pen into his hands and swiftly slid them into some drawer.

While you were reading the contract, Jade quietly ducked out before returning with two magazines in hand. He hovered over your shoulder, before flipping one magazine open to reveal one of your swimsuit model pictures and setting it on the table for you to sign.

You signed, although it felt a little weird autographing something, but it was best 'business' proposal you could come up with.

Jade handed you the other magazine and Azul stood up. You still find the height difference between him and Tweels humorous, although Azul was still taller than you, so you didn't have much room to judge.

"It's a pleasure doing business with you, (Y/N), as always." Azul smiled, fumbling with something out of view in his desk drawer. "Have a good night."

"Want a drink Shrimpy?" Floyd inquired, placing an arm on your shoulder, turning you away from Azul.

"I would be more than happy to make something to your liking." Jade agreed, leading me out of the room. "On the house." He quickly added.

"As much as I'd love to, I have a tutoring session with Riddle. He saw my grade on last week's midterm and almost exploded on the spot."

"Aah, I haven't seen Goldfishy in a while." Floyd wondered aloud. "Hey, Shrimpy," He smiled, "Let me come with ya."

"Absolutely not," Jade remarked with a cold smile that did not reach his eyes, "You have a shift to work Floyd." You have always found the difference between their personalities amusing.

Remembering your appointment, you whipped out your phone to look at the time. Oh no. You had five minutes.

"Shit, I got to go, see you guys later!" You waved and ran off, terrified that you might actually witness Riddle explode this time.

"Goodbye, (Y/N)." "See ya, Shrimpy!"

Two sets of mismatched eyes intently followed you out the door.

------

"JADE." Azul practically screeched, slamming his hands on the table. "Do you know how BADLY that could have gone? Are you insane? You're lucky the prefect thought I was trying to resell them!"

"We're lucky." Jade corrected, carefully and meticulously removing pages from a Fleur magazine at a Mostro Lounge table. Azul threw his hands up in frustration.

"Hey, Azul, I never heard you objecting." Floyd rolled his eyes. "And why are you so embarrassed anyway; you're puffing up like a pufferfish."

"Well now, we have to sell the magazines." Azul huffed to himself and sat down besides Jade and the stack of magazines. "So, stop tearing the merchandise!"

"No." Jade snapped angrily. Realizing, Jade quickly collected himself and returned to his typical collected attitude, resuming his carefully removal of magazine pages, "There is a clear solution - we sell the magazines, just without certain pages featuring the prefect."

Azul stared, deadpan at Jade, clearly exasperated. "And just what are you going to do with half a hundred pictures of the prefect?"

"Remind me, who took one of the magazines after I bought them for 'personal use'?" Jade sneered, meeting Azul's stare, causing Azul to blush and begin stuttering excuses.

"I still don't get why we can't just tell Shrimpy." Floyd shrugged, leaning back in his chair, holding up one of the torn-out magazine pages of (Y/N) standing on a beach, hair blowing in the (fake) wind, dressed in a one-piece swimsuit, with a chic cover-up.

"Absolutely not!" Jade and Azul shouted in unison.

Thankfully, the Mostro Lounge was closed, and no one could hear the three mermen squabbling late into the night.

#twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech #azul ashengrotto #floyd leech #twisted wonderland hcs #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst crack #gender neutral reader

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pshcomforts · 8 months ago

Text

➳ cardigan | psh.

popularhighschool!sunghoon x loserfem!reader

“you drew stars around my scars, but now i’m bleeding”

synopsis: sunghoon caught you at a bad time.., or better to say, at a late time when he rushed and yet found you injured from a few bullies.

warnings/content: written in third pov. reader’s a little grumpy and closed off. angsty. mentions of blood. reader gets beaten up.. this is cliche, i won’t lie..! cursing. not proofread.

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 3.1k

a/n: fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s boyfriend), min-su (heeseung’s girlfriend), and ji-woo (jake’s girlfriend). honestly inspired by that one scene in revenge of others!

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: cardigan by taylor swift

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

2:12 ────────────|─────── -1:47

y/n quickly thanked the cashier before speeding out of the convenience store. it was dark, scary, and the girl was alone so of course she was trying to hurry home.

she was halfway through her walk, texting her friends when a figure had stopped in front of her.

she glanced up and found a classmate with a wide grin plastered across her face.

“hey y/n,” she sweetly called in a fake tone. “i’m surprised to see you here.”

y/n’s face morphed into disgust as she pushed her aside. “what do you want?” she asked, allowing the girl to murmur — “leaving so soon?”

“don’t you want to stay and talk?” a different voice bellowed from her right. another classmate who was friends with the other appeared from the dark shadows.

a mischievous grin was shown on her face as a few more began to pop up.

y/n sighed, biting her lips as she remained composed from what was about to happen.

“i want to get home, so get out of my way.”

she attempted to leave the scene, but was pulled back by a hair grab from one of the girls.

“you think you can just flirt with sunghoon and get away with it??” y/n heard the first girl who stopped her scowl.

it finally clicked for her as to why these girls began to bother her.

it was just earlier today when she had gone to the canteen to find her friends, and soon spotted them with their partners.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ — flashback

“hey guys!” she beamed at her group of friends.

“hey y/n!” they yelled back in the same, excited tone.

y/n quickly sat down in the open seat as she greeted her friends’ significant others as well — jake, heeseung, and jungwon.

“hey baby, sunghoon’s right there, we’re gonna go okay?” min-su’s boyfriend announced, causing the members to get up and leave to where sunghoon was, which was at a group of table where the popular students normally were.

y/n felt her heart tighten at the sudden name. memories flooding back from the boy she put all her trust in and broke it. they used to be friends, but once his popularity grew, so did their distance.

so as she kept her gaze down, ji-woo huffed out a quiet sigh while looking at dae and min-su.

there was nothing her friends could do to mend her and sunghoon’s relationship together. though the two had their friends dating each other, there was a clear line that they never crossed in terms of being okay again.

✩ ‘but i knew you’ ✩

when she didn’t bother to look anywhere but her feet, she didn’t realize that sunghoon unknowingly laid his eyes on her.

any time he tried to look elsewhere, they’d still land on her without a thought. his heart burned that he wasn’t near her like he used to be.

even when one of the girls at his table, the one who approached y/n, tried to get his attention, he’d just let it run by his ears — not caring if it looked rude.

he just wanted the girl he’s always loved in his life again, even if it meant losing his popularity.

“y/n..?” dae called out to her, allowing the girl to turn towards him. “want to head to a class instead?”

her heart softened once she realized how considerate her friends were in recognizing the awkward distance between her and sunghoon.

“i’d like that…,” she murmured back.

the four rose from their seats but y/n held herself back, announcing that she’d meet them near the door after tossing her lunch away.

as she did so, she was forced to walk by the group of kids who deemed themselves as popular — in which including sunghoon, and a few other enhypen members.

she sighed, pushing herself to get used to the uncomfortable energy as she sped to the trash bins.

when she finished her task, she walked toward her group of friends, rushing through a few crowds when a familiar student had accidentally bumped into her.

the bump was harsh enough that she almost stumbled down onto the ground, but she quickly stopped herself to avoid the possible embarrassment.

“sorry!” y/n yelled. “are you okay??”

she glanced up and found the boy she’s been avoiding in front of her.

sunghoon took a noticeably large gulp as he towered over her, hands still firmly holding onto her forearm so she wouldn’t fall.

her heart instantly dropped with how close she was to him, hating that he was in front of her again. she blinked her eyes before pulling her arm back to lose his grip.

“sorry..,” she mumbled, turning away before she could get a reaction out of him.

y/n mentally cursed in her head as she ran off to her friends who watched the whole thing happen from afar, not wanting to hear from the boy who abandoned her.

but from what she didn’t know was that sunghoon kept his attention on her even after she left the scene, body frozen and gaze locked from where she stood.

he couldn’t comprehend the fact that she spoke to him again. his heart was fluttering from her very minimal yet repeated words in his mind.

“sunghoon?” the girl who approached y/n asked. “what’s wrong?”

she attempted to link her hands with his but he slipped out of it.

“we’re not together, don’t do that.” he coldly replied, returning back to his seat next to jungwon.

she fumed out a few curse words under her breath as her cheeks heated out of embarrassment.

she was determined to make sure y/n knew her place after having an encounter with her crush.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

y/n yanked herself out of the harsh grip on her hair, shoving the hand away as she clicked her tongue in annoyance.

“it was just a bump. you can have sunghoon all you want, i don’t want him.”

lies, but she wasn’t about to admit that in front of those group of girls.

“please.., you bumped into him on purpose didn’t you?” one of them uttered, scoffing in disbelief, causing y/n to scoff as well.

“now why would i do that? i don’t want to get close with him.” she rolled her eyes. “does he not give you enough attention for you to claim this or something?”

the proclaimed leader guffawed out a laugh, truthfully a little choked out at the remark y/n made but was still unfazed.

“your feisty attitude won’t win him over.”

“your bratty attitude won’t win him over either,” y/n snapped back. “i don’t even want him. he doesn’t pique my interest.”

lies again.

as she tried to walk out of the threatening circle, one of the girls pulled her back into it.

“you don’t think you can just walk away that easily, do you?” the leaders lips evilly curled afterward.

y/n rolled her eyes, exasperating a sigh since she couldn’t believe she was getting dragged into this situation for no reason.

“with your friends gone, guess you have no one to protect you, hm?”

a hand finally flew towards y/n, indicating that the long awaited fight had begun.

the girl fought back in the best she could, throwing hands and slamming heavy backpacks against each body to protect herself.

she did well for a second, victory almost in her hands but the amount of people against her was outweighed and she unfortunately lost.

in seconds, the girls who had bruised marks from y/n regained themselves and threw her to the ground.

they each took a beating, causing y/n to feel the constant hits that were purposefully harsh.

once the leader deemed it was enough for a lesson, she kneeled down to the girl’s eye level, forcing a hand on her chin.

“talk to sunghoon again and it’ll be worse.”

the girls hurriedly ran off, a few still aching from what y/n was able to do as she was left alone.

she heavily sighed, air almost being kicked out of her lungs when she found it hard to breathe. she was finally able to stand after a few gasps, clothes rustled and hair messy from the beatings.

“fuck..,” her weak voice mumbled, lips trembling as she clenched onto her chest. “that fucking hurts.”

y/n slowly dusted herself off, body almost falling limp when her phone began to ring. she checked it, finding her friends ringing her in for a call but she declined it.

with her messy state, she didn’t want to worry them so she refused to pick up. the girl turned toward the direction of her original path, groaning at the pain before staying still at the person in front of her.

sunghoon was not too far from her, heavy pants being the only thing heard from him as he couldn’t believe his eyes. his heart dropped and his blood ran cold once he registered it was y/n.

✩ ‘cause i knew you’ ✩

from another perspective, hoon heard the girls beating someone up, but he didn’t know it was her.

he still ran, hoping to stop whatever was happening but was too late once he found that it was just one person in the scene.

they stayed at a good distance, nobody uttering a word as they found themselves glued to the ground, only staring in each others eyes.

✩ ‘stepping on the last train’ ✩

hoon’s face was filled with guilt, while y/n couldn’t help but resent him. it wasn’t his fault, but she wasn’t willing to face him either.

the main thing audible were their heavy breaths overlapping one another. they were both too scared to speak, afraid to break the unbearable silence that consumed them.

✩ ‘marked me like a bloodstain’ ✩

suddenly, his feet brought him closer to y/n, mouth slightly gaped open as his eyes were watery from how beaten she looked.

the sounds of gravel beneath his shoes were heard and she could only softly flinch. her body ached for attention with the new bruises that were forming on her skin, but she couldn’t stop filling her mind with sunghoon in front of her.

then a particularly painful sensation took over in her abdomen, forcing her to clench onto that area with her hands.

she softly groaned out a sigh, dry lips crackling with her hiss as little blood fell from it. her body was in agony and she couldn’t ignore it anymore.

her hands instinctively went to the railing near her, tightly gripping onto it for comfort. she squeezed her eyes shut though still determined to leave sunghoon.

however, her body failed her when the pain had filled almost every inch of her body.

a soft scream had escaped from her as she almost lost herself, expecting a harsh take to the ground but soon finding it a little easier to stand.

she felt a hand holding her forearm in place, keeping the grip tight so she wouldn’t fall.

it instantly registered to her who it was.

she grumbled an annoyed look toward sunghoon, not fully facing him as she harshly retracted her arm back.

“i don’t need you, sunghoon.” y/n spat out, attempting to walk away but failing when the pain increased.

she softly winced, clenching onto the railing more than she did before as she walked.

the boy trailed behind, gaze still worryingly scanning her.

“you’re hurt, y/n.”

“first time you noticed?” she shot back, voice cold with how unwilling she was to talk to him.

sunghoon’s face contorted into a saddened expression as she only sighed.

“go home.”

y/n tried to leave, but her body failed her once again. she almost fell to the ground, feeling like she lost complete control when he still kept his hold firm on her.

“i don’t want your help,” she scowled.

the girl tried to push him away, but accidentally fell into his arms instead. she felt his hands instantly snake to her waist, pulling her closer as she exhaled heavy breaths.

“i know you don’t want to see me, but i’m helping you either way. you’re too beaten to be by yourself.”

she was always a stubborn one, and he remembered that. her mouth opened to defend herself but found her voice to be weakened and drawn out, allowing him to take her back to his place without a fight.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

y/n was now sitting in sunghoon’s living room, house empty with his family gone for the night.

“ah, here we are.” he murmured, grabbing a few bandaids and cotton balls before sitting down next to her.

the girl kept her gaze down when she felt one side of the couch dip, unwilling to meet eyes with her old friend.

“i’m gonna clean your face,” he gently warned, careful with how he gave his tone.

his fingers hooked under her chin, leaning closer so he could finally wipe away the dried, crusted blood that was once fresh. she softly hissed, eyes shutting as sunghoon continued to dab the bloody areas.

he couldn’t believe she was in front of him again. granted, it was to clean her wounds but even through her bloody bruises, she was still the most beautiful girl in his eyes.

he just hated that he was the reason for this. his heart shattered whenever he heard her bite back her pain. he knew she was keeping a wall up, and he knew why.

“y/n..,” he softly called. “can you look at me?”

he peered his gaze into her face, swallowing down a harsh lump as he awaited for an answer.

“no.” the girl harshly replied. “i don’t want to.”

hoon couldn’t help but scrunch his face in pain when he felt his heart sting from those very words, but he strived to continue.

his hand still held her in place, fingers slightly trembling as every second that passed was a striking reminder of how he couldn’t protect her.

“i’m sorry. this shouldn’t have happened to you. those girls are mean and vile, you didn’t even do anything.”

he truthfully hated that he found those girls to be his friends, hated that they were the ones responsible to have caused y/n to be in this state.

✩ ‘a friend to all is a friend to none’ ✩

“don’t.”

he tried to sooth her, and maybe even mend what was broken, but she couldn’t bear with it.

“don’t what?”

“don’t do this. i don’t want to hear you apologize about your friends, or about how sorry you are.” she mumbled, finally glancing up at him.

✩ ‘chase two girls, lose the one’ ✩

her heart almost melted when she was met with him, almost.

she was able to find his features that she loved most, along with how his hair flopped perfectly to the side, complimenting his pretty stare she could get lost into.

✩ ‘when you are young, they assume you know nothing’ ✩

but sunghoons heart instantly dropped and his gaze softened completely once she allowed herself to lock eye contact. his words were almost slurred with how much he was in a daze as he murmured — “but i am, y/n.”

it was almost incoherent in the way he only focused on admiring the girl in front of him.

✩ ‘but i knew you’ ✩

y/n pressed her lips into a firm line when she felt her eyes twinkle with tears. they danced around her eye bags as she felt her walls breaking down.

“if you are then why didn’t you protect me?” her lips trembled, voice trailing off once her tears threatened to fall. “you said you always would, and yet you weren’t there.”

sunghoon was at a loss for words. he opened his mouth to say something but he couldn’t — because she was right, he failed her.

“you weren’t there when they threw their backpacks on me and caused bruises, you weren’t there when they each took their hits, you weren’t there when they watched blood run down my lips..,” she stopped herself, biting back the tears. “so why would you be here for me now?”

the boy felt his world stop, guilt written all over his face as everything almost deafened in his ears. her words repeatedly lingered in his head, and he couldn’t get it out.

his fingers dropped the blood-filled cotton pads, thumbs quick to stroke her cheeks for comfort but she pushed them away.

forcing a tough exterior back up, y/n weakly stood with her body still in pain. she was quick to face the door — to leave all of this behind — but sunghoon’s hand had held onto her wrist.

his breaths began getting heavy again and he was almost close to breaking down.

“i still need to clean you up..,” he weakly mumbled, eyes scanning for her demeanor.

✩ ‘tried to change the ending’ ✩

he let his fingers cling onto her wrist just a little tighter in hopes of her obliging. he couldn’t let her leave in such a state.

y/n’s back faced his front as she was faced towards the door, chewing her lips close enough to draw another portion of blood out. she wanted to stay with him, just for the night at least, but no good ever came to interacting with sunghoon.

“i don’t need your help.” she reiterated. “i’ve done it without you before, i can do it without you again.”

✩ ‘peter losing wendy’ ✩

“y/n..,”

his call was almost like a light towards home, but it instantly flickered out with the reminder that he abandoned her.

✩ ‘but i knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss’ ✩

sunghoon gave a soft tug at her wrist, trying to get her attention back onto him as he swallowed down another guilt-eating lump in his throat.

“you walked out on me, sunghoon.”

she stopped herself when she felt her heart tighten in the dreaded pain of him. though every part of her body ached, her heart tore the most.

“now i’m gonna do the same.”

✩ ‘i knew you’d haunt all of my what ifs’ ✩

hoon let out unsteady breaths, indicating that tears had finally streamed down his cheeks. he bit his lips and sniffled, feeling like he was saying goodbye when he was quick to loosen his hold on her.

his fingers detangled from her but they didn’t drop completely, they still lingered around her wrist, ghosting over what he lost.

✩ ‘and i knew you’d come back to me’ ✩

when y/n felt his hold leave hers, she retracted her arm back and winced in pain.

no words were uttered as she walked towards the door, not bothering to glance back at sunghoon, who couldn’t help but feel guilty.

✩ ‘you’d come back to me’ ✩

the girl soon walked out on him as stated, and much like he did before, she was now the one to leave him.

✩ ‘and you’d come back’ ✩

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

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lexirosewrites · 6 days ago

Note

O!Steve & B!Robin as childhood friends!! Not Nancy Wheeler Friendly bc this is from a protective Robin POV & I needed drama & No Upside Down AU

They meet when Robin skips 4th grade & become friends when they're paired together for a project. Steve is a Henderson bc his mom divorced his sire Richard Harrington & Steve didn't want to b a Harrington anymore he wanted to have his mom's maiden name. He & his mom moved to Hawkins the week before school started.

Steve is chubby & a boy omega (which is rare especially in Hawkins Elementary where only two other boys in the grades below r omegas) which makes him different & he's not very good at reading aloud but he still gets some of the best scores on their social studies or history lessons & his scent is still muted like the kids younger than them. So he isn't popular but he isn't overtly bullied but he is largely ignored by the kids w more social capital.

So he & Robin bond abt being treated as outcasts. They quickly become best friends & spend as much time together outside of school as they can except every other Sunday bc Steve's mom drives a few towns away in Roane County to the nearest Episcopal church.

Robin was raised Buddhist bc her mom is a child of Vietnamese immigrants & her dad was an anti-war protester (especially after he gets drafted into Vietnam, causing him to lose his left leg). The Buckleys celebrate a vague Christmas tht they treat more like Yule with Father Winter instead of Santa, presents still happen but Robin is expected to choose a few of her gifts to give to a nearby domestic violence shelter where some kids stay.

Then high school starts. Steve has his first heat the summer before & so his scent matures to smell like baked apples w honey. He loses a bit of the baby fat, his face gets clearer of acne he'd developed in 7th grade, & his hair is noticeably more shiny. This means Steve is suddenly the subject of new attention by some of the beta boys & alphas of Hawkins High. It all makes Steve uncomfortable so Robin stops trimming her nails & even files them sharper when at home. She shows off her newly sharp nails when she scratches up the arms of an alpha senior who wasn't taking Steve's polite refusals as an answer, tearing up their jacket sleeves, & even ripping a big hole in the bottom of their backpack so all their things tumbled out.

After tht word spread quickly tht Steve Henderson had a guard, Robin Buckley. So the attention turned from a rush to a trickle.

A!Tommy Hagan tries harassing Steve in their sophomore year & calling it courting but Robin tells B!Carol Perkins tht Tommy is trying to cheat on her & together they scratch Tommy so deeply he gets scars. Sophomore year is also when Steve begins babysitting for extra cash. He starts w his little cousin Dustin, then the Sinclairs hire him every other Saturday night, & the list grows till Steve is having Robin help him keep a planner just to keep track of his babysitting gigs.

Then junior year brings abt a Steve who is the uncontested prettiest omega in school & the attention gets worse. Except now ppl know to try to get Robin's approval. She doesn't make it easy & this weeds out the ppl who only wanted a chance to say they'd popped Steve's cherry.

This works till A!Nancy Wheeler sets her sights on Steve. Nancy does practically every task Robin gives her w minimal complaints, so Robin gives Nancy the chance to actually court Steve. Except it quickly becomes clear to Robin tht Nancy didn't seem all tht interested in learning more abt steve outside of who he was in the schools social ladder. Robin would watch how Nancy flaunted their relationship to others to establish a growing social status but would then make eyes at B!Jonathan Byers, The Creep as others called him.

When O!Will Byers goes missing (later being found kidnapped by his father) & B!Barb runs away while the town is focused on tht, Nancy becomes more & more disinterested in Steve. Apparently insisting to Steve tht Barb was her best friend & tht she would've told Nancy if she was going to run away. Robin snorts when Steve tells her this bc it was obvious to Robin their friendship was a one way street of Nancy getting what she wanted.

So of course Nancy embarrasses herself & Steve at Tina's Halloween party the next year, after a year of growing colder towards Steve & leading him on & insisting to them both tht Jonathan is just a friend. Of course Nancy runs off w Byers after the whisper of a lead on where Barb had gone reaches her ears, of course she comes back smelling like Byers in a way tht made it clear she'd had sex w him & only then breaking up w Steve & worst of all is how Steve doesn't get angry with Nancy or Jonathan.

It all gets more annoying when Steve is newly single & knot headed A!Billy Hargrove tries approaching Steve when no one else is around. He never offers to exclusively court Steve & he never approaches Robin abt it either. He just follows Steve to secluded corners of the school or town & makes comments when no one is around to hear him.

Eventually they graduate, Robin decides to put off going away for college opting instead to take classes part time at the Roane County Community College w Steve. Billy Hargrove races out of town after he beats his father in the Hargroves front lawn, Mr Hargrove leaves town soon after but his wife & step daughter the Mayfields stay in Hawkins. Robin only learns most of this thanks to Steve being Max's babysitter now

for two weeks of the summer Nancy tries to court Steve again, claiming she'd changed but this is after Jonathan Byers learns tht Nancy hadn't broken up w Steve till after their fruitless attempt to convince Barb to come home led to them sleeping together & so he breaks up w her unable to believe she'd hurt Steve in the way his own father had hurt his mom

They get jobs at the mall in the food court. Then the larger parent company of their employer Scoops Ahoy gets shut down by the government for tax evasion & tax fraud & a whole list of illegal labor practices so they find new jobs at the Cinema-plex in the same mall. Then the mall burns down bc the construction was cheap & several safety regulations were blatantly ignored. So they find another job they can work together. This time at Family Video, after an interview w Keith (whose parents own the small strip mall where the laundromat & the arcade & video store r located) wherein Robin said her favorite movie was a German silent film she knew Keith would know nothing abt & Steve equally stumped Keith w a samurai movie tht Robin knew didn't circulate in the US, Ms Henderson had gotten the VHS of the movie shipped to Hawkins through friends in the UK.

Time went on, they took their classes at the small community college, Steve still babysat here & there, & the platonic soulmates were even apartment hunting in their free time. Settling on the relatively affordable rent of a 2 bed trailer in Forest Hills.

That's where Eddie Munson pops into their lives. Apparently he'd met Steve once or twice when Steve had come by to babysit Max. Now tht the pair lived so close by Munson he took to being a welcome committee. A couple of months of living in the trailer park, hanging out w Eddie who had begun working at the local mechanics instead of racing out of town like Hargrove, & buying the odd joint from the alpha at an obviously reduced price. Munson made his move & approached Robin on a day tht she was working without Steve.

The alpha was visibly nervous but determined & he didn't even shrink away when Robin glared him down for 5 minutes in silence. So she sighed & gave him a random task tht she knew Steve would like to see. This went on & on, Eddie growing closer w Steve & when Steve told Robin he wanted to b courted by their neighbor she delivered the news to Eddie w her best friend right behind her.

The pair courted for 2 years before Steve sat her down & told her he was pregnant just abt 2 months along & tht he & Eddie were going to exchange bites before the due date & tht they wanted to move in together. Robin was silent bc they were supposed to leave for Portland tht spring, so tht she could attend college & Steve could get a cosmetology license, they were supposed to remain together into their old age. She didn't even realize tht she'd nearly gone into a srs beta drop till it was the next morning & she was being held by Steve in his nest.

Over breakfast sandwiches in bed Steve explained tht she had dropped before Steve could tell her tht if she approved Eddie was going to drive to Portland two weeks before they planned to leave & get a 3 bedroom apartment set up. If she didnt approve Eddie was still going to drive there early but just find an apartment for stobin & another apartment for himself. They talked for hours abt how Steve didn't want to b best friends w anyone except Robin & his alpha, how Robin had been scared for awhile abt Steve leaving her, & it ended w them having a movie night where they ordered Eddie to pick up a pizza & sodas & the biggest order of chicken tenders possible

7 months later after a home birth in Portland Oregon, Robin cried when she got to meet her best friends twin babies & learned tht they'd named the youngest of the baby girls Janis Robin Munson while the older twin was Joan Cathy Munson (Cathy was Eddie's mom's name & coincidentally grandma Henderson's name)

& Aunty Robin became the Munson pups favorite babysitter 🥰

Robin being protective of omega Steve is always so lovely💕💕💕

#slick sunday #steddie #steddie omegaverse #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #beta robin buckley #platonic stobin #steve x eddie #a/b/o #omegaverse #mpreg #tw mpreg #cw mpreg #my asks

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goth-vampires-blog · 16 days ago

Text

Kitsune Hybrid.

SYNOPSIS: In which (y/n) (l/n) a rare fox that thought would be a myth became famous in the fox's community, since she was a child and one of the popular student in Cherryton Academy for her looks and nina tails.

Fandom: Beastars

CHAPTER ZERO: Kitsune.

Author Notes: Yn is four years younger than Melon. This story does have a harem (both girl and boy).

3RD POV:

Dim lights lit up a child bedroom that was fulled up with toys as a child was peaceful sleeping though the night having no problems noise, as a white female fox approach the bed reaching down to the bed and pulling up the rug that slip off the sleeping child.

"My previous gem... if only you were born as a full fox, then you wouldn't be hatred by the kids." Luna, the fox name, gently pet her daughter head that was puff up by her little fox's ears.

(F/N) was a little different from the children in her neighbourhood, she was a mix species just like that gazelle hybrid next door to them. Though she a special one in the fox's community.

A Kitsune is what she called, a fox with more then one tail, a trickster with supernatural powers.

----

Outside the apartment was a young gazelle hybrid name melon, he was mix with a leopard which explains the spots on his face. He was eight years old and was doing groceries shopping for his mum.

Once he was at the stairs, a sound of a door squeaking brought his attention, a girl that would make you think that she was a human if it wasn't for the fox ears on top of her head and the nina tails behind her.

"Bye bye mama!" She yelled at the top of her lungs, slemming the door shut, making the gazelle hybrid flinch. Turning her head, the fox girl stared into the gazelle eyed, tilting her head to side her fox ears, going down a little as well, looking at him with curious.

The gazelle eyed the fox before making his way downstairs. Hearing footsteps behind him, glancing, he saw the fox jump down each step as she carefully balanced herself when she landed on it. "Hey! Are you a hybrid, too?" The fox question trying to keep up to the gazelle who just let out a tired sigh.

"..."

"Becase if you are, do you wanna hang out?... I haven't seen a hybrid like me, befoe." The girl exclaimed, getting close up to his face only to get pushed back by the face. "Why are you so annoying?" The gazelle asked, watching as the girl grinned, showing her sharp teeth at him as she grabbed his hand that was holding onto her face, she than held it before jumping up and down shaking his hand each jump.

"Becase you have a smell like you are going through something." She said with a frown, one of her teeth pointing out of her mouth. As the gazelle stared at her in surprise, mouth opened as he just looked at her in shock.

The two stay quiet as the fox girl removed her hold on the gazelle, looking off to the side as if something else got her attention. "... What kind of hybrid are you? And the name is Melon." The gazelle or known as Melon question staring at the fox curiosity.

"Oh me? I am half human and fox! I am kinda a rare case because of my fox bloodline, and my dad said that I am what you call a Kitsune it apart of a folklore of my dad side of the family!" The foxes explained honestly, trying to find any more information about herself. "Oh! The name is (f/n), and I am an only child." She said hands on her hips, smiling softly at Melon, who held back a smile.

Melon continues to walk to the shops with (f/n) following alongside him. Her curious eyes looked everywhere around them, shining brightly as molen continued to walk, glancing back just to see if the Kitsune is not far behind.

----

After a while (f/n), help Melon carry the bags up the stairs to the apartments once they make their way up to the fifth floor. They stopped when two polices man was trying to calm down a crying fox woman.

"Oh... mama?" (F/n) spoke out loudly as the fox woman, along with the police man looked behind them just to see the little hybrid looking at them with a big smile on her face.

As for Melon, he stared at the fox child with disbelief. 'Don't tell me.. you left your home without your mother knowing.' Melon thought, watching as Luna ran and hugged her daughter, who was still holding onto the bags.

The policemans, a tiger, and a horse walked in front of the pair asking (f/n), who is the boy she is standing next. "Oh! Mel? His my best friend! I want to help him with his groceries." (F/n) explained with excitement as she hugged her mother before side hugging Melon.

After getting the results from the four year old, they left not before giving a warning to Luna and (f/n).

"You little lady, why did you leave the house? You're supposed to have a nap time." Luna explained, pinching (f/n) as she let out a whine as Melon stared at the two foxes that looked like a normal family until his.

Melon cleared his throat, getting the two attention he then pointed at the bags in (f/n) arms, and she let out a surprise "ah" as she gave it to him. The two foxes watched Melon walking to his apartment, unlocking it and walking in.

"Oh.. that's right, is he your friend?... huh dear?"

'I hope he likes the gift..."

----

With Melon

Melon walked in, seeing his mother already in front of him wearing an apron before reaching her head out and touching his horn in an inappropriately manner, Melon shivered in fear, seeing that look on her face.

When Melon mum stops touching his horn, she leaves to put the groceries away, lifting up one of the bags something hard, falling out, drawing Melon attention.

Picking the wooden that had a note stuck onto it, Melon rash a brow in confusion, clearly remembering that he didn't buy it. 'Did she?' Thought Melon as he opened the note reading to.

「 Hello, Mel!

I hope you love the gift it a fox charm that I can make, really cool, right?! Anyway, the only reason I am writing this is because I am moving soon. My mum and dad got a premonition at work, and they want to get a better apartment but that charm I give you is a token of our friendship if something happens and you don't feel like telling anyone just hug the charm and a spirit lookalike of me and will hug you.

You can even talk to it since it's connected to me, and I will find a way to answer.

Pts: Those police men were really scary.」

Melon felt something coming out of his eyes and landing on the paper, he open the wooden box and saw a very well crave out fox with blueberries around it.

He stared at the wooden fox, bringing it close to him and hugging it. And just like what she said in the note, Melon felt a warm presence hugging him in front.

----

With (f/n)

Just like she thought, he was hugging the wooden fox.

Now, her new journey to a new house starts next week.

"Dear, it's dinner time!"

"Huh? Coming Mama!"

----

Finish chapter 0

The new chapter is coming out next week.

Readers can comment on who you want as love interest. Sorry if Melon doesn't act like in the anime. This is Kid Melon.

#beastars x reader #Melon #reader insert #kitsune #anime #fox #hybrid

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reidmotif · 11 months ago

Text

Regret on the Rocks

Summary: Spencer finds himself at a bar being served by the girl who once broke his heart. Turns out she feels a lot more than just regret for letting him go.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Light Angst/Smut

Content Warning: drinking, Spencer is a little depressed, mentions of heavy bullying (specifically 3x16), car sex, female masturbation, Spencer POV, heavy kissing, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 4.3k

Masterlist

Regret is an emotion I’m well accustomed to. It’s not to mean that I’m unhappy with my life by any means, but I’m aware of the space between my current situation and the ‘beyond’ that could’ve been if things had just been different.

If I’d never joined the BAU.

If I’d had a more conventional life in the first place.

If connection came to me as easy as it seemed to other people my age.

But none of those things seemed to ring true, so I carried regret in me like a bruise of honor. Despite the regret, I faced it every day and lived to do it all over again in the morning. It didn’t mean it was easy, and today proved that. Today, it was hard going to sleep knowing I’d wake up to do it all over again.

In light of this, I’d found myself in a bar, alone. The case we’d been working on saw little to no fruition despite our efforts, and it’d resulted in another body we couldn’t save. Another person I was responsible for. It weighed down on me more than I cared to admit.

I found myself continually lost in my thoughts, navigating through the carefully weaved web of guilt and self-doubt, spiraling, until a much softer, surprised voice pulled me out.

“Spencer Reid? Is that you?” She asks. I hear her voice before I see her, and I know that it’s the bartender stood behind the bar, and there’s confusion as I wonder who could’ve possibly recognized me in a rundown small-town bar.

I look up and meet her eyes, and it’s as if a flood of memories ensues. A flash of recognition crosses my face, and seeing the images playing in my head, almost akin to a film reel, slowly walking me through one of my earliest regrets.

I was 15, navigating my senior year while being the youngest one there. Despite the oddness of my situation, it never crossed my mind that I shouldn’t have tried so hard to participate in the same social events as my peers. With the hindsight of adulthood, I now imagine that if I had withdrawn, spent more of my time alone than trying to not be, the hurt of never being accepted would sting less, because I’d never had tried in the first place.

But I had tried, and she was the only one who got me. She was older, yes, and beautiful and popular, but those didn’t matter half as much as the conversations we’d manage to have. She never seemed to take offense to any ramble of mine, and I’d feel my heart soar when she’d ask questions after my monologues, sending me the clearest signals of interest in what I had to say.

And as a lonely 15 year old? It meant the absolute world to have that. To have her as my friend.

And so, when it came time for senior prom, in the interest of at least trying to fit in, I asked her to go with me. As friends of course, but even then she shook her head, and ruefully told me someone else had asked her. I vaguely recalled the name she’d given me off of a football roster I’d once read while attending the school, and nodded. I understood. I was prepared for the rejection, in fact I’d already taken it the moment she said no. I was prepared to live with it.

Then came the week before prom. Being lured away from the safety of the campus, and onto a football field. Being tied to a flagpole, while everyone watched- and laughed. I remember seeing a face, his face, knowing he was the one who was taking her. Taking (Y/N) to the prom.

I rarely dwell on the events of that day, but I do remember the regret. I remember wondering that if I’d just never spoken to her, I’d maybe have been less of a target. I wondered if maybe I’d never asked her in the first place, maybe our friendship could’ve survived the whole ordeal, but it hadn’t. She never spoke to me after that, her head hanging low as she continued to hang off of his arm, never sparing me another glance again.

But here she was, glancing- no, staring at me, her eyes wide.

“What are you doing here? Are you.. Did you always live here all along?” She asks, her voice uncharacteristically soft and mellow. She was loud back in high school, I remember. She had the best laugh I’d ever known.

It takes me a second, but I give her a flat smile, setting my glass down. “I’m here for a case, actually.”

“A case..?” She says, her head tilting a bit in confusion.

Clearing my throat, I nod. “Yeah, a case. I’m an FBI agent. I’m here for a recent string of murders being committed in the area.”

“Wow, FBI, huh? I never thought of you as law enforcement.” She says, her eyebrows raising. “Always thought you were going to change the world with that brain of yours.” She adds, a small smile on her face. My eyes narrow in distrust at the sudden compliment, unsure of her intentions.

“I’d say I’m changing the world.” I respond, a little defensively. “I like my job. I like that I change lives by not letting them end.”

She immediately retracts her statement, vehemently shaking her head. “No, no! That’s not what I meant at all. I mean, of course you’re changing the world- I just thought you’d be doing more. Okay- not more. I just- Gah. I swear, don’t take it the wrong way.” She pauses, before gesturing to herself. “I mean, I have no room to talk.” She says, the words a little rushed and frantic.

“What do you mean, no room to talk?” I ask, squinting in genuine confusion.

“I mean, I work as a bartender. I don’t know what I want from life, but it’s certainly not this.” She says, motioning to the shelves of drinks behind her, a little defeated.

She’s so different from when I knew her. Self-assured. Confident. She seemed almost meek in this environment, and the only recognition of the girl I knew came from the small, embarrassed smile she gave me.

“Well. We’re a lot more alike than you think, then. Titles mean nothing.” I say, voice a bit quieter. “I don’t think it’s anything to be ashamed of, though. We’re just getting through life the best we can, right?”

She nods a little, seeming to take comfort in my statement. “Look at you. You’ve still got the same sweetness in you from high school.”

Stiffening at the mention of high school, I just nod and taking another sip from the glass in front of me, which was starting to empty out. “Not trying to be sweet, I think. Just honest.” I say, bluntly.

It’s mean, I’m aware. I can feel her trying, but I don’t want to offer her the same. I want her to feel awkward. I want her to know what she did was wrong.

There’s a silence that passes through the two of us, before she breaks it with a continued gesture of kindness, turning around to fill another glass with my drink of choice and setting it down in front of me, a small smile playing on her lips.

“For being honest then. Thank you.” She says, and her eyes meet with mine. I almost hear the unspoken apology in her voice, in the way her fingers slowly push the chilled glass towards my empty hand, in the way she bites her lip softly, waiting to see what I’d say.

“To being honest.” I say, raising the glass slightly and downing the drink a little faster than I intended, not wanting to think too much about the implications of the gesture. To know that she possibly had regrets too. That she might still have the goodness I once knew in her.

“I have about half an hour left in my shift, but if it’s alright, I’d love to catch up properly.” She says, keeping her gaze trained on mine. “I’ve.. missed you.” She says, her voice soft.

I don’t respond to her last statement, but I can’t deny the magnetic pull begging me to say yes to her request, to at least see where our lives had gone after our separation. So I nod, silently.

“I’ll be here.”

I try to lay off the drinks for the next thirty minutes, opting to sip some water instead to clear my mind in preparation for the time I’d be spending with her. Part of me wondered if I shouldn’t have accepted the invite at all. It wasn’t that I forgave her per say, but the curiosity to know her all over again was overwhelming, regardless of the pain she’d caused me. I’m once again reminded why “curiosity killed the cat” is such an overused aphorism.

She comes up to me thirty-six minutes later, and I hate myself for keeping track. She flashes me a small smile.

“You waited.” She says, softly.

“I said I would, right?” I respond, unsure why that would mean anything to her. I agreed to this. I wanted this, even if I could physically feel the inner turmoil brewing throughout my body. I suppose it didn’t show though, because she continued on, smiling.

“There’s an ice cream place I like around here. Would you like to go?” She asks, and I see her teeth catch onto her bottom lip, the plumpness of the feature being exacerbated by the action, causing me to momentarily lose my train of thought.

“Uh. Yeah, ice cream. Sounds good.” I say, placing my hands in my pockets.

“Did you drive here? I mean- I hope not. You drank quite a bit.” She says, starting to walk to the exit of the bar.

“No, no. My hotel is actually right here. I walked. Needed to get my mind off some things and I ended up here since it was convenient.” I say, and I feel myself falling back into that comfortable rhythm of just being able to speak freely around her.

It’s like no time has passed at all, and yet I’m acutely aware that nothing is the same. That we’re avoiding a bigger issue at hand.

“Yeah.” She murmurs. “The murders around here have been grisly, haven’t they?” She says, starting to lead me to her car. “I get nervous when I hear about that stuff, so I find myself looking away from the news more often than not.” She continues, quirking her mouth to the other side, as if she’s aware this isn’t the best course of action, but does it anyway.

“It’s cute.” I think.

I push the thought away.

“Understandable.” I reply, nodding. “I don’t watch the news either. I mean- I do read the news. But I don’t watch it.”

She starts the car, and I observe a hint of a grin on her face, her eyes crinkling at the edges in a way that makes my heart jump. “So you still like to read then?” She says, seeming genuinely happy I’d kept up the habit even after my youth.

“Oh yeah. I mean, reading isn’t something I really ever let go of. It’s a good activity when you’re out on the road so much.” I say, feeling solace in talking about something I truly loved. “Sometimes I feel like books provide me with better stimuli than social interaction.” I continue, unaware of the implications of my words, and I only realize once I’ve seen her raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I mean. Friends are good too, right?” She says, a hint of concern making her way into her voice.

I chuckle a little bitterly. “Probably. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I have my team, and I’m grateful but-” I pause, taking a deep breath. “I don’t know. It doesn’t come to me like that, you know? And I’m not bothered by it, but I don’t like to think about it.” I say. There’s a faint feeling of heat on my face from the honesty, but I continue to stare straight ahead, not wanting to see her reaction to my words.

“You were a good friend to me, Spencer. Better than a lot of the friends I had in high school, and I’m not just saying that.” She says, softly.

I respond without thinking, shaking my head with an embittered motion and a click of my tongue.

“Yeah, and look where that got me.”

She’s a little silent then, and I refuse to say anything else. She’s the one who invited me here. I don’t know what she wanted out of this, but I wasn’t going to forego my own feelings just to spare hers. I was here. That was enough. I was allowed to say that.

We pull into an empty parking lot, where I see the neon lights advertising an ice cream parlor, but we don’t get out. She turns off the headlights and blows a bit of air between her lips, placing her hands in her lap and turning towards me.

“Spencer.” She murmurs, swallowing a bit. “I am so, so sorry for what I did in high school. I know I wasn’t there when.. You know when. And I know I didn’t speak to you afterwards, and I am so sorry.” She repeats. “I hope you believe me when I say I really did miss you. I was such an idiot back in high school, and nothing can repair that, but I missed you so much.” She says.

I turn to her and can see the tears welling up in her eyes and feel my heart soften. It’s insane, the effect she can have on me, even years later.

“Hey, don’t cry.” I say, immediately reaching over to wipe a tear from her cheek, my thumb swiping over the expanse of her smooth skin. “It’s just high school. It’s a long time ago.”

“No.” She says, emphatically, shaking her head. “Don’t lie to me. What I did was awful. It doesn’t matter if it was long ago. You can call me a bitch. You can- scream or hell! I don’t know. You can be angry at me. You should be angry at me. I could never say sorry enough.” She says.

I shake my head, all the previous resentment and bitterness dissipating instantly. It was a bit odd, feeling the emotions I’d long held onto even years after our fracture go away so quickly, but she was my friend. For what it had been worth, she had been good to me. And right now, she was my friend, crying in a car, and the guilt and shame couldn’t be more obvious.

I move to hold her hand, wanting to comfort her, rubbing small circles into the skin near her thumb, her fingers grasping over mine, almost afraid to let me go now.

“You’re right, in a way. What you did confused me and left me feeling really.. lonely. But now that I’m older I think I better understand it, but it doesn’t change the fact you hurt me.” I reply, and I see her jaw tighten, nodding and taking my words to heart.

“But I don’t think I resent you anymore for what happened.” I continue, the words tumbling out. “Seeing you guilty and ashamed so many years later is just making me wish we’d talked earlier, so we wouldn’t have had to feel this way for so long. Maybe we could’ve.. I don’t know. Picked up where we left off.”

She gives me a flat smile, tears still in her eyes. “Yeah? I’d have liked that.” She murmurs.

“I mean it.” I say, flashing her a soft smile. I decided to lighten the conversation for her comfort.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t call you an idiot for dating that prick though.” I respond, a little teasingly, hoping to get a bigger smile out of her.

“Oh god.” She says, leaning back, laughing a bit. “Please do. God, he was so .. awful.” She says. “He wasn’t half as funny as you. Just.. boring honestly.”

I smirk a little at the words, feeling a bit of pride but brushing it off with a shrug. “I mean, it's a cliche right? Beautiful, smart girl with the boring jock?” I say. “You and like, 6 out of 10 high school girls probably fall directly into that category.”

She gives me a laugh at that one, a real one, and my heart soars upon the sound alone. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed her.

“6 out of 10? Where’s that statistic from? High School Girls Anonymous?” She responds, matching my energy and continuing the banter.

“Just trust me. I know these things very well.” I say, trying my best to sound as faux academic as possible, hoping to make her feel at ease, to fully let go of the tension from before.

“Well, then.” She says, softly, turning the conversation to be a bit more sincere. “I’m glad I don’t fall into that cliche anymore. I’m glad my taste changed.”

I nod, surprisingly relaxing into the vulnerability of the words. “Yeah, it happens. Tastes do change throughout life, especially post-adolescence. One could denote it to the development of the prefrontal cortex, but I like to say it’s out of knowing what you want out of life.”

“Have yours? I mean, your tastes. Have they changed?” She asks, her eyes boring into mine, and I realize that my hand is still holding hers.

I lick my lips and shrug. “Here and there. For the most part, yes, but I find myself clinging to certain aspects of my teenage self.” I respond, vaguely.

She continues to look at me, nodding. “Mine have. For sure.” “How so?” I ask, my heart speedingbup.

“I think I learned to like sweeter guys.” She says, softly. “Ones that don’t bore me entirely, and ones I actually want to spend time with. Maybe that’s a cliche in itself but..” She shrugs, ending off her sentence there.

I nod, wondering where this was leading. Her eyes were trained on mine and I could feel my pulse quickening. Was she going to kiss me? Was I going to kiss her? Was I crazy for thinking that at all? What was happening here?

“You said you still have certain aspects of your teenage self in your tastes.” She says suddenly, her face moving a bit closer to mine. “What did you mean by that?”

I sigh, taking in the features of her face, and how they seem to be illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the windows of her car. She was so stunning, even now. Even after all these years, I couldn’t deny she’d only grown to be more beautiful.

I lick my lips and nod. “I guess I just meant.. I still find you just as beautiful as I did back when I first knew you. Even moreso now, honestly.” I say, quietly.

I can feel her breath hitch, and her own tongue darting out to wet her lips, mirroring my actions. Her gaze shifts from my eyes to my lips, and back to my lips again, and I’m extremely aware of what I want at this moment.

“Can I kiss you?” I ask, my hand still in hers, studying her with a careful gaze.

She nods almost immediately, and at the same time, we surge forward to meet the other’s lips, her hands immediately cupping my cheek and my hands moving to her waist. I hear the click of her seatbelt being unfastened, and suddenly she’s in the passenger seat with me, straddling my waist and continuing to keep her lips locked firmly on mine.

It’s like I can’t get enough of her, my hands exploring her back, eventually lowering them to squeeze her ass, which elicits a low moan from her. I pull back a little, panting and see her eyes blown out with lust, causing me to groan from just how deep my desire for her ran in this moment. I let one of my hands to run over her bottom lip, pulling it down and letting it bounce back up, enamored by just how close she was.

“Fuck.” I murmur, unable to contain my awe at her and without wasting a moment, she’s grabbing my hair roughly to pull me back in again to meet her mouth with mine. When given the opportunity from another soft moan from her, I immediately slip my tongue into her mouth, relishing in the way she grabs my collar and presses her body against mine, matching my enthusiasm one for one.

It felt so good to be wanted by her.

She starts to whimper at the intensity of our prolonged contact, and the sound activates something primal in me. It was almost as if once I heard it, I couldn’t go back. Pulling myself back from the kiss, I start to trail my lips up and down her neck, leaving hot, wet kisses in my wake while she writhed in my lap, her fingers tugging on my hair in desperation. I played with the motion for a bit, testing out certain points on her, before finding that she’d moan loudest at a pulse point at the junction in which her jawline met her neck. I sucked on the spot, being sure to leave a large, dark mark.

I didn’t care what would happen after this night, but for right now, she was mine, and I intended to treat her as such.

“You said your hotel room was nearby, right?” She pants, starting to move her thighs off mine. “We can go and-”

I immediately wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her back against me with a force that surprised even me, before gripping her hair and placing my mouth near the shell of her ear. I can hear her squeak at the motion, but her legs relax back into straddling mine.

“I want you now.” I whisper, my voice hoarse and low. “We can go, if you’d like but- I need you now. I can’t stress that enough.”

She melts in my arms as I say that, and a grin comes upon my face from the desire she was displaying as well. She nods quickly, before moving her fingers to my belt, and just upon hearing the sounds of the hardware moving, my head involuntarily falls back because- holy fuck. Feeling her so close to where my pants were now currently constricted nearly had me finishing right there. I could barely look at her without feeling overwhelmed. I feel my cock being pulled from my briefs, and I let out a moan.

I look at her again, and she’s the picture of lust. Her pupils are dilated and her hair is messy, and her mouth slightly agape. She’s everything I want right now. All I want.

“You’re so big.” She mumbles, leaning back, her hand wrapped around me, beginning to stroke me in a gentle, rhythmic motion.

“Yeah?” I murmur back, breathing in sharply when her thumb runs over my slit, feeling the precum already dripping down my shaft. Even her hand is making me question if I’ll finish right here before ever getting to be inside her.

“Yeah.” She whispers, almost breathlessly.

“You can take it.” I say, looking at her, and the girl looks like she’s about to moan off of my words alone. She licks her lips before responding, her voice a bit higher than before.

“I don’t have a condom- but I’m clean and-”

“Yes.” I respond immediately and she moves quickly. My fingers, as if possessed, move to unbutton her dress a bit, letting her breasts spill out (to my delight). The urge to strip her bare for me crosses my mind, but then I’m acutely aware that we were in her car, and the risk of being caught was far too high for the pleasantries I wished to indulge her and myself in, and I find myself slightly wishing we had gone to the hotel room. Next time.

Before I get too caught up in the fantasy of possibly ever fucking her again, I see her reach under her dress, presumably to move her panties aside and groan at the thought. My hands roam over her body to find her hips, slowly guiding her onto my cock, her walls squeezing around me tightly as her hips met mine.

Her moans were sweet, but I found my hand covering her mouth quickly, watching as her eyes shone with pleasure with just the slightest movement from either of us.

“Need you to stay quiet, pretty girl.” I murmur. “You can do that for me, right?”

She nods, eager to please, and I keep my hand on her mouth for a moment too long as I watch her eyes flutter shut, then open, her hands wrapping around my neck to stabilize herself. She starts moving then, lifting off until my tip is the only thing inside of her, before slamming against me, creating the best type of friction for both of us, causing there to be desperation for more. My hands rush down to grip her waist, and I can barely stifle my own noises from how fucking good she feels.

It’s a frenzy after that, and I match her movements with thrusts from below. I know it’s enjoyable for her, based on how hard she’s trying to not make a single sound, but still lets out the tiniest little whimpers and gasps when my cock grinds against her spot, and from the way her thighs shake every single time I disappear deep into her, a small bulge forming in her lower stomach every time I pushed into her. Every clench and squeeze of her cunt drives me insane, and I can’t help the low groan slipping out of me.

Her movements get erratic, signaling her end, and I grin at how quickly I managed to get her there. My fingers move to stroke her clit in circular motions, savoring the way I could hear her whisper my name, grinding down on my dick and chasing the feeling of my fingers on her.

“Close?” I mumble, biting down on her shoulder lightly, which causes a louder moan to slip out of her.

“Yes. Yes.” She whispers, breathlessly. “Please, Spencer. Oh god. Please.”

I jut into her more rapidly, continuing the motions against her, before her walls tighten and squeeze around me, and her cunt flooding the base of my cock. I continue to move like a man possessed, swallowing the moans of her orgasm with a messy kiss, before finally, I reach my release as well, coating her walls from the inside out.

She pants for a second, collapsing against my shoulder as she tries to catch her breath, and I stroke her hair, attempting to do the same. She moans softly, her hands wrapped around me as her eyes flutter open and shut.

“I was wrong.” She mumbles, nuzzling into my shoulder, kissing it softly. I’m unsure about the meaning of the words, so I quietly ask her.

“What about?”

“You’re incredibly different from when we were in high school.” She says, softly.

“Good or bad different? I ask, a little self consciously, which is amusing considering I’m still inside her.

“Good. Really, really fucking good.” She clarifies, quickly, with a dazed smile. I lean in, kissing her a bit more softly now, letting my lips languidly trace over hers.

“You too.” I murmur, and I can feel her smile against my lips.

No regrets about this one.

WOAHHH. oh em gee. a fic! so so so deeply sorry i didn't live upto posting more fics this december and january, but i swear i'm gonna keep trying to at least get two out a month. valentines day is coming up, so you already know i'm gonna try and write something fluffy and cute for that, so look out for that. as usual, thank you so so much for any and all continued support. it seriously means the world to me and i cannot say that enough <3 i hope this fic was enjoyable. like, reblog, comment, whatever <3 just ty for reading!! <3

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds self insert #dr spencer reid

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incorrectbatfam · 11 months ago

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Types of obnoxious batfam stans

Written by an obnoxious batfam stan

Not really a rant but something I've noticed over the years interacting in different spaces and I've decided to make your problem now.

Please note that I'm not saying there's any "right" way to be a fan because we all suck by virtue of being comic nerds, but there are certain kinds of batfamily fans that stick out to be in particular.

Anywho, here are 12 kinds of annoying batfam stans that you've probably run into and you better get a laugh out of it *points gun to your head*.

1) The Newbies Who Never Heard of Google

There's no shame in being new to something. It's a phase that we're all guaranteed to go through, whether we're 11 or 101. However, in this day and age, so many things can be easily googled that you don't need to shout every question you have into the VVorld VVide VVoid. If you need comic recs or a reading list, google it. If you wanna know a character's origin story, google it. If you need to know the color of Batman's underpants in a particular issue in 1965... well that's probably too specific for Google but Reddit will definitely have an answer.

2) The Middle School Authors

Before the 13-year-olds get up in my notes, I'm not saying everyone that age writes like this. Middle school is a state of mind. These fanfic writers usually stand out in a few ways.

They're oftentimes first-person POV or reader-insert. Give Y/N a break, she's tired.

The grammar is stunningly atrocious. I get if you're inexperienced or if you're writing in a second language, but we are in the prime era of autocorrect. If you need help, it's right there. Also, fuck c*nsoring b*d w*rds and fuck "unalive."

The characters do things that are out-of-character because the author is projecting their own personality. Bruce Wayne is a lot of things but he does not listen to the fucking Mountain Goats.

There's a lack of experience or research when it comes to certain topics. That's not how physics works. He can't walk that injury off. And that's definitely NOT how you do the horizontal hokey pokey.

3) The Neckbeards

Unfortunately, these basement-dwelling mouth-breathers tainted the image of what a comic fan is, though that's been changing recently. Still, we've all seen them. They gatekeep via pop quizzes, 'cause obviously you're not a real fan unless you know what page 10 of Batman #138 smells like. They give unsolicited commentary on people's cosplays, nitpicking the guys and being gross toward women. And heaven forbid the comics add a little diversity.

4) The Moviegoers

Nothing inherently wrong with getting into the fandom via the movies, nor is there anything wrong with sticking to that. I just feel like we're two different species of Galapagos finches, you know?

5) The Christopher Nolans

Separate from casual fans of the Nolan movies. I'm calling them the Christopher Nolans because these people have a tendency to reach for the grimdarkest thing possible. It's like they cannot fathom Batman having any other emotions besides punching and gargoyle brooding.

6) The Canon Purists

Wanna share a fun headcanon? NO, because Stephanie Brown never used cherry lip balm in the comics so therefore that must be the absolute truth. These people are a stickler for comic accuracy to the point where it's like... why bother interacting with the fandom in the first place? The worst part is when they're adamant on following a single continuity and refuse to consider anything else. This is comics we're talking about. Everything either has been or will be canon at some point.

7) The Fanon Worshippers

On the opposite end of the spectrum, we have the people who base their entire perception of the characters on something either they pulled out of their ass or that their mutual with 16 followers came up with, despite evidence directly contradicting it. I love WFA, but I feel like that's partially responsible for further perpetuating certain popular myths. Also, these fans tend to focus solely on the batfam/their ships. It's one thing to have some people in the foreground vs. background, but put some respect to Bart Allen's name you goddamn cheesecakes.

8) The Golden Age Dads

These guys aren't really obnoxious. I actually find it kind of cute how they think Jason Todd is still dead.

9) The Chronically Online

I have a rule of thumb when it comes to discourse: if it's not something I'd hear about at a bar, it's not worth my mental energy. Some people haven't gotten the memo, though.

These are either the well-intentioned but misinformed teenagers or grown-ass adults beefing with children because they don't have a life. They have takes that are oversimplified, rage-inducing, TikTok algorithm attention-grabbers that no one cares about in real life.

Don't get me wrong, we've got a bunch of issues in comics and fandom that are worth discussing. However, there comes a point where you're splitting hairs and need to go the fuck outside. I'm not gonna link the post 'cause I don't wanna call them and their 7 notes out, but the other week I saw someone saying Stephcass was a racist ship because something something colonialism parallel. You gotta be Elastigirl to have that kind of reach.

10) The Corporate Simps

I love comics. I appreciate the writers and artists. However, you will find my carcass in a ditch before you catch me licking the boots of DC/Warner Bros. Basically, these fans, fewer as they are, can't seem to fathom that their favorite franchise can (and does) put out some steaming motherfucking garbage.

11) The Hot Cosplayers

Not actually annoyed, I'm just a little jealous. Stop being hotter than me, please and thank you.

12) The One With A Punchline For Everything

Wait–

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yoon-kooks · 2 years ago

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paired & puppy-eyed | jjk

⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader

⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au

⛓️summary: When Jeon Jungkook agrees to be your partner for a class project, he doesn’t realize what that might escalate to until you show up at his door in a teeny-tiny crop top and cling to his tattooed arm like his naughty little kitten.

⛓️word count: 4.6k

⛓️warnings: dom!jk, sub!reader, daddy/kitten undertones, dirty talk, reader calls herself a sl*t one time, dick tattoo, many rounds of sex off screen😔

⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️

a/n: if you're looking for the ✨filthy✨ smut version, read paired & pierced from the reader's pov! this one takes place in the same 2 days but from jungkook's pov without explicit smut😔 if you read both, lmk which version you preferred! i personally like this one more bc we get more catdad!jjk heh

Jungkook doesn’t always have a goal for the day, but today is different. He’s running on approximately zero hours of sleep and would love to get a nap in before class starts. That shouldn’t be too much to ask.

Unfortunately for him, that won’t be happening today because there are at least ten girls huddled next to his desk when he walks into the classroom. An onlooker might assume that these girls are gathered around for a chance to win his heart over, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. In reality, there’s a queen bee sitting a foot away from him, and she’s the one everyone’s always drawn to.

That queen bee is none other than you.

As Jungkook quietly takes his seat, he overhears something about that Loudmouth Jim who sits on the other side of the classroom. Apparently, you were hanging out with that guy at some party. A girl like you can do so much better than Loudmouth Jim who always needs to make everything about him. He couldn’t accept it when his ex broke up with him, so he turned it around on her to make it seem like he was the one breaking things off with her. Now he’s made it his mission to make her jealous by flirting with popular girls like you. Jungkook swears he only knows this because his tattoo artist loves to spill the tea he hears from his other clients.

“Is he as big as they say?” All the girls look so wide-eyed and eager to hear what you have to say about Loudmouth Jim’s cock. They talk about shit like this all the time, and as much as it makes Jungkook want to bang his head against a brick wall, he’s also lowkey disappointed that they’ve never once wondered about the size of his cock. He wouldn’t mind if that seed were planted in that pretty little head of yours.

As it turns out, you haven’t seen Loudmouth Jim’s cock. Thank god. And from what it sounds like, you didn’t want to see it anyway. Good girl. In fact, when Jungkook takes a peek next door, you don’t even look super engaged in the girl talk. You nod along and smile a bit, but you’re a lot quieter than one would expect for someone so popular. It’s kind of cute.

Eventually, class begins and Jungkook lets out a sigh of relief. Now the girls have to cut the chitchat and leave. At long last, he can finally catch up on some sleep. This wouldn’t be an issue if not for the tiny demon kitten that wandered to his doorstep a week ago. Not only does she keep him awake at night by knocking shit down and chewing on his phone charger, but she also haunts him in his sleep.

He dreams of the little fucker swatting her paws against his back and wiggling her tiny body into his hood. When that isn’t enough to get his attention, she starts gnawing on his index finger.

“Hey Jungkook.”

The boy opens an eye and the first thing he sees is you bent down in front of him as if you were about to do something indecent under his desk. He immediately shakes that thought out of his head, though he still has no fucking clue why you’re down there looking up at him with such needy puppy dog eyes.

“Wanna be partners?” you ask him.

Still half-asleep, he looks around the room and sees everyone pairing up and talking about a project of some sort. Fucking hell. He absolutely despises any and all projects that aren’t individual. Even the ones where a super pretty girl is asking to pair up with him. But before he can decline, he notices you checking over your shoulder and sees Loudmouth Jim on his way over. Ah, it all makes sense now. You’re just using him to avoid being partners with that asshole. It’s a matter of picking the lesser of two evils. Understandable.

“Sure, I guess.” As much as Jungkook doesn’t want to admit it, he wouldn’t have had it in him to say no to you anyway. Not with those puppy eyes.

“Good, good.” The smile on your face is too much. Why are you smiling that big for something as small as agreeing to be your partner? It’s really not that deep. But it is really cute. Fuck. See, this is what happens when he doesn’t get enough sleep—his mind develops some sort of irrational softness that won’t go away until he either lets his body rest or rubs one out. He’ll do whatever it takes to get that nasty soft feeling out of his system.

Seeing how the classroom isn’t the best place to have his hand in his pants, he opts to fall back asleep before class ends. Hopefully he won’t be disturbed by any more kitten nightmares.

Ten seconds later, Loudmouth Jim enters the scene, and Jungkook can kiss his nap goodbye. Still slumped over, the sleep-deprived boy listens in on the awkward exchange between you and Loudmouth. Bro apparently can’t take a hint that you want nothing to do with him. Jungkook would step in and tell Jim to fuck off, but he wants to see you do it yourself. That would be kind of hot.

“I’m actually partnered up with Jungkook, sorry,” you say in an apologetic tone. You probably get taken advantage of all the time because of that compassion. There’s no need for you to be so nice to everyone you interact with, and especially not to shallow people like Jim. That must be exhausting.

“That kid asked you to be his partner?” Loudmouth spits. Kid? Jungkook does his best not to snort while pretending to be dead. When he takes a peek, he sees you nod. “And you said yes?”

You nod again. This time, however, you don’t give him the gentleness you’re known for. With a furrowed brow, you almost look bothered—something you probably feel all the time but never show. It’s so rare to see your emotions out in the open like that. It’d be quite intriguing to see how you look when you’re genuinely happy, sad, mad, horny—

Nope. Jeon Jungkook is not going to let his sleepy mind wander there on a Friday morning. It can at least wait until he gets home.

After Loudmouth Jim is gone, Jungkook sits up and stares at you. Your face has already softened back up. Fuck it. He’s never seen anyone so cute in his entire life, through sleep-deprived glasses or not.

“Why didn’t you just partner up with that other guy? It sounded like he wanted to work with you.” Kind of a dick move of him to ruffle your feathers when he already knows about your distaste for Jim, but Jungkook is genuinely curious to hear what you have to say. And he’s not one to be curious about other people’s affairs.

“That’s not what he wanted,” you say. They don’t call him Bad Intentions Jim for nothing.

“What about everyone else? Aren’t you friends with everyone here?” Perhaps “friends” isn’t the best word to describe the rest of your classmates, but it’s clear that they enjoy being in your presence.

Apparently, you feel a bit more detached than that. According to you, no one’s going out of their way to save you from a hypothetical burning house. Jungkook probably would. But there’s no way in hell he’s admitting something like that. He’d sound like a simp!

“Who would you save?” he asks. Surely you have someone you’d put before anyone else. Anyone would be lucky to be your number one.

“No one.”

Jungkook knows he shouldn’t feel a certain way about your answer, but he can’t control how his lips curl into the slightest smile. Your response is proof that the two of you aren’t as different as it seems. He might even like you for it.

Heck, he might even offer to do the whole damn project by himself and still give you credit for it! That’s the plan he has cooked up for his antisocial self—until you keep insisting on working together. Something about meeting up on the weekend. Maybe he should stop playing hard to get and just say okay.

“I’m busy.” He immediately hates himself for saying it. That’s his default response for any sort of social gathering, and his dumbass went on autopilot for no reason.

“Busy with what?” The way you flutter your eyelashes at him is both innocent and seductive. Are you actually flirting with him? Because it’s working.

“My newborn,” he utters out of panic. It didn’t entirely come out of his ass, though. The vet did say his kitten is around eight weeks. That’s basically a newborn, and she’s definitely been keeping him busy.

But then your eyes get all big and sparkly. “You have a child?”

How the fuck is Jungkook supposed to respond to that? You’re so excited over a human baby that doesn’t exist, and now he has to be the bringer of bad news. He normally doesn’t feel bad for others, but this makes him feel like absolute shit.

“If it’s easier for you and the little one, we can work at your place?” you offer. Why the fuck are you so gullible and trusting in him, and why is that a huge turn-on for him?

“I was just fucking with you…” he finally comes clean. You look exactly like the surprised Pikachu meme, and yes, it’s adorable. Fine, you win. He gives you his number and address and invites you over.

All that for a fucking project.

When Jungkook returns home, a sleepy kitten waddles its way over to the door to greet him. She yawns her fish breath in his face as soon as he picks her up for a kiss. Ungrateful little demon.

She doesn’t stop there, either. With a burst of energy and a bushy tail, she flicks her eyes around, looking for a wire to chew on. The computer cords must be quite appetizing because she keeps trying to eat them.

“Hey, that's dangerous, Lucy.” Jungkook peels the kitten away from the wires and sets her down on his bed, but she just runs right back into the danger zone. “Lucinda, you little shit.”

Twenty minutes later, the boy makes a run to the pet store and returns with a few peace offerings. He’s not much of a cat person, so he has no idea what all the young kittens are into nowadays. Hopefully they like mouse toys and pink bunnies.

Like the new father he is, Jungkook spends the rest of his evening teaching the kitten how to play fetch, rocking her to sleep, and tucking her in with the mouse and bunny. Finally, the demon has been tamed.

By the time he gets into bed, it’s already past midnight. He’s exhausted and should probably get some sleep, and yet his mind is still wandering. He can’t quite shake that image of you getting down on your knees at his desk, just begging for his attention. For a second, it looked as though you, the most popular girl on campus, were lusting after his cynical smartass self. The mere possibility of that lures his hand into his pants to address that ache he’s been enduring all day. But before he can get any relief, he hears a set of paws back on the prowl.

Jungkook hobbles out of bed and turns on the light. To no one’s surprise, the naughty kitten is caught red-handed with a wire in her mouth.

With a sigh, he collects the kitty, sits her down in his lap, turns his computer on, and opens up the code for the partner project. It’s going to be a long night.

The funny thing is, the assignment itself doesn’t require much time or effort. What takes up all his time and effort is this silly kitten. She’s adorable but so damn needy. Kind of like you. If you were here to work on the project with him like you’d fought so hard to do, you’d surely be much too big of a distraction. No work would ever get done when you bat your eyes at him and giggle over the tiniest things.

It takes a good few hours between modifying and adding lines of code and keeping an eye on the troublemaker, but Jungkook eventually gets it done before the sun rises. As an added bonus, the naughty little wire fairy has finally worn herself out. She curls into a ball on top of Jungkook’s chest and falls into a deep slumber. The boy is out a minute later.

It’s around ten in the morning when Jungkook wakes up and checks his phone. You’re supposed to drop by sometime today, aren’t you? He wishes he knew when to expect you, or if you weren’t coming at all. It’s up to you to message him, though, since he gave you his number and not the other way around.

Just then, he hears a knock at the door. His first instinct says it’s you. But then he checks his phone again and sees no new message from your unknown number. Surely you’d shoot him a text before heading his way.

It’s probably just the special package of kitty toys he ordered a few days ago. He’d get up to check, but he’s not trying to disturb the little rascal from her slumber. She’s still resting peacefully on his chest, and he’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible.

But what if the package gets stolen? Jungkook spent a lot more money than he’d like to admit on those kitty toys, and he’d be pretty pissed if someone took that away from his child.

Groaning, Jungkook slowly lifts the sleepy kitten off his chest and places her on the warm spot where he’d been lying. She stretches out her tiny limbs but otherwise continues her snooze. Perfect.

The first thing he sees when he opens the door is your bare tummy because you’ve apparently decided to show up at his door unannounced in a micro crop top. It’s so short your pretty tits might pop out if your arms were held above your head. Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t mind seeing a little underboob if that’s the look you’re going for today.

Then he notices you staring at him like he’s a stranger. You haven’t even greeted him yet. He watches as your eyes travel up his bare arm to his face and messy man bun, and then back to his arm. That’s when it hits him. This is the first time you’re seeing any of his tattoos and piercings.

The quiet studious Jeon Jungkook at school doesn’t look like the type to have a full sleeve or this many piercings. He doesn’t like drawing attention to himself and prefers to keep a low profile. Life is just easier that way. That’s why he always takes his piercings out and covers his tattoos with a hoodie when it’s time to go to class.

Seeing him now in a muscle tank must be quite shocking to you.

“Why do you look like that?” You have the audacity to point the finger at him when you’re looking that good in your little crop top. “I mean, if I’d given you a heads-up, would you have thrown on a hoodie and removed all your piercings before I got here?”

Oh? You sound kind of upset at the fact that he’s been intentionally hiding his body art in class. Like you’ve been missing out.

“Maybe,” he answers as he leads you inside. Your curious eyes are still glued to his tattoos. You ask why he hides it all, and he mentions his distaste for compliments and small talk.

He does it to avoid the exact things you’re so good at attracting.

“Fine, I won’t talk about how pretty I think your tattoos are.” You bring out a pouty lip to combo with those puppy eyes. He wonders how you make your pupils so big like that. And what the fuck are you so whiny for? You want to admire his body art that badly? Fine.

“I’ll grant you permission to give one single compliment.” Without a single thought, he lifts his tatted arm for you to grab onto. Your hands are so soft and warm as they slide across each tattoo. It’s in times like this that Jungkook wishes his entire body was covered in tattoos for you to trace with that angelic touch.

After what feels like forever, you still haven’t said your one compliment. It seems like you’re just using this as an excuse to latch onto his arm like his little kitten.

“Well? Are you gonna fangirl over my tattoos or just keep fondling my arm?” He’d give you a nudge but his arm is too busy being fondled.

“I wish I could see all of them.” Your eyes meet his as your tits press into his arm. The compliment is innocent at face value, but the implications behind it sure as hell aren’t. Oh, you definitely want to fuck him.

If you think you can just waltz into his home with that crop top, drool all over his tattoos, and ask for sex so shamelessly, you’re not wrong. His body is aching to squeeze those tits, to feel just how tight you are, and to make you squirm until you squirt.

“Ooh kitty.” Like an easily distracted toddler, you toss his arm aside and move on to the next toy that fascinates you. The kitten drops her mouse in front of you and sniffs your hand when you scoop her up. Jungkook watches from afar as his own kitten steals you away from him. She even presses her pink nose to your cheek. That little fucker.

Jungkook has to bite his tongue at least five times to stop himself from asking if you’re done playing with his cat. He’d come off as jealous and needy for your attention. Instead, he acts like the mature father he is and puts her to bed in that pink new donut cushion he’d bought for her the other day. She kneads her paws on the bunny until she can’t keep her eyes open anymore and settles into the loaf position. He’s convinced she’s only behaving like an angel right now to impress his lady friend.

“So what’s this project again?” The boy has no intentions of actually working on the project, but he’d prefer it if you weren’t so focused on his cat.

“You’d know if you were listening!” You turn back to the cat again. He could’ve sworn he heard you whispering something into her triangle ears like, “Your daddy is so useless.”

Hearing that name come out of your mouth is confirmation. Confirmation that you’d be so submissive if he were to spread your legs open and make you his little plaything. And he kind of likes the sound of that.

“I’m just fucking with you again. I already finished it, by the way,” he hums. Since you seem to be the stubborn type when it comes to project participation, he sits you down at his computer with the finished code to prove that daddy is not in fact useless.

He expects you to be all wide-eyed and impressed by his work, but you simply sigh as you run the program. Great. It appears he has yet another ungrateful little thing on his hands.

But then you start adding in a bunch of stuff “for the aesthetic” because although he’s “quite possibly the nerdiest boy you’ve ever met,” there’s still room for growth when it comes to “the fun shit.” And by “the fun shit,” you mean coding in a cat doing some elaborate kpop choreo.

Half an hour later, you run the final product again and submit it in its perfect form. Aren’t you the nerd here? Quite possibly the prettiest nerd he’s ever met.

“Are you sure that Jim guy wasn’t trying to be your partner just to get a good grade? Nerd,” Jungkook says before face-palming internally. Why does he always resort to name-calling as his way of flirting with people? This is why no one likes him and why he’d rather just keep his mouth shut. He’s going to ruin a good thing with you if he keeps that up.

But to his surprise, you throw the name right back at him with a playful smile on your face. “If that were the case, he would’ve asked for a threesome with you too, Nerd.”

“Not particularly interested in a threesome with him.” But a threesome with you? Sounds interesting.

You call Jim an asshole and don’t deny that you have a bunch of shallow relationships with the people in your class. When the boy asks you about it, you admit it’s intentional. It’s this mindset of surrounding yourself with a lot of different people until you run into the few you click with.

And while Jungkook can’t relate to having that many connections to his peers, he understands the desire for someone who cares for you unconditionally and makes you want to do the same. He’s been waiting for that person to show up for him too. Idly. At least you’re putting yourself out there.

“Found anyone yet?” he asks, lying down on his bed. He stares up at the ceiling and not at the pretty person sitting less than a foot away from him. You’d joined him on the bed at some point to play with the kitten, but the feline was very quick to abandon you. Now it’s just you and him.

“There might be a boy I’m interested in.” Your voice is flirty and soft. The boy knows he might have a big ego at times, but there’s no doubt in his mind that you’re talking about him. You wouldn’t be on his bed eyeing him like that if that weren’t the case.

With that knowledge in mind, Jungkook decides to tease you some more. “I bet it’s Jim, isn’t it? You know, like a passionate love-hate type thing?”

“Fuck no.” Your face hovers over his like the moon during an eclipse, except you’re much more enticing to look at. He catches your eyes on his lips until they find their way up to meet his gaze. “Never mind, it’s no one.”

Liar.

“Really?” His body suddenly moves on its own, overcome with the lust that had been building up since you first showed him those puppy eyes in class. He pulls you beneath him and holds both of your wrists above your head. He was right. That crop top is indeed short enough to show him some underboob with you in that helpless position. And, much like how you said you wanted to see all his tattoos, he wants nothing more in this moment than to see the rest of you until he’s seen it all.

Purposely keeping the tiniest distance between his lips and yours, he whispers, “I was under the impression you were kind of into me.”

As the afternoon turns to evening, you’re still at Jungkook’s place, still fondling his arm on his bed, and still obsessed with all the art and piercings that grace his body. The two of you had fallen asleep after getting a few rounds of filthy sex out of your systems, much to the boy’s surprise. He’s used to people leaving right after, whether it’s because the relationship was purely sexual or because it just wasn’t worth his time. You’re different, though. There’s something about you that he wants to keep holding onto.

“Did this one hurt?” You poke the metal sticking out of his eyebrow.

“Not as much as you stabbing me with your finger just now,” he frowns, running a hand through his messy hair. The man bun must’ve come out at some point in the midst of all that hair pulling and wrestling in the sheets.

“You must have really low pain tolerance then,” you giggle with your finger ready to poke him someplace else. But before you can do so, he closes his hand around yours and tucks your pointy finger away to put an end to your antics. “You’re no fun,” you pout.

“Really? You seemed like you were enjoying it when I let you s—”

“Where’s this one from?” You somehow dodge the accusation and free your finger from his grasp to poke the shark tattoo that you now know hides beneath his shirt. You’re so sneaky.

“Someone.” Aka the same artist he gets his gossip from.

“What about the… snake one?” Of course that’s the one that pops into your dirty little head.

“Someone else.” Aka the one he might have slept with a few times before she convinced him that the snake would look good on him there. She wasn’t wrong. “You’re nosy.”

“I’m just asking! Maybe I want a tattoo too!” you squeak. Jungkook has no doubt in his mind that you’d look pretty damn hot with any tattoo anywhere on that body. “Tattoos are attractive, no?”

“Be honest, you only fucked me for my tattoos, huh.” The boy knows this to be false because you aren’t the shallow type, but he just wants to hear what other good things you have to say about him. Because maybe he doesn’t hear that a lot from others.

“Obviously. It had nothing to do with how hot you are, or how easy you are to talk to, or how soft you are for your cat, or how perfect of a pair we made for that project,” you lie with the most charming smile ever, snuggling up as close as you possibly can to his body. Twirling his long hair around your finger, you tuck it behind his ear, and whisper, “I’m such a little slut for your tattooed cock.”

The boy gets yet another urge to tear your clothes off again and feel your bare body connect with his so perfectly. He’s just about to shove his hand into your panties (you gave up on pants after the third time) when you let out a tiny snicker.

“I take back what I said about you not being fun,” you say, lips flush against his neck. “You’re fun to tease.”

Him? Fun to tease? Maybe you’re forgetting about all the teasing and torture he put you through earlier. Maybe you’re in need of a little reminder.

“Hey,” he says in his stern parent voice. You look up at him with those big innocent eyes again. Oh great. It’s clear that you know his weakness and aren’t afraid to exploit it. Just like how his naughty little kitten knows she can get away with anything because she’s too cute to get mad at. “Behave or I’ll kick you out.”

“Oh?” His so-called threat catches your attention enough to get your ass in his lap and your hands tangled in his hair. You let him taste your lips, your tongue, your everything—a sweet taste he won’t ever get sick of. “Do whatever you please to me,” you purr as the soft kisses quickly become an unbearable heat of pure desire.

Between you and his kitten, Jungkook already knows he’s gonna have his hands full. The thought of caring for others would normally irk him, but it’s not like he could ever say no to you or the kitten, even if he tried.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts college au #nerd jungkook

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idkwhatever580 · 7 months ago

Text

Country Girl

Masterlist

Pairings: Natasha romanoff x singer!reader

Prompt: One night a drunken Tony forgets y/n’s Texan roots and dares her to sing something different.

Warnings: dumbass Tony, songfic, swearing

A/N: okay guys. I usually dislike country but it’s growing on me. Yes this is low key a vent lol but in a good way? Idk I know the people that I’m linking the songs to. Like I literally know them. (Well the second one I know know and the first one I know her kids better but I know her too lol)

Disclaimer: I do not own these songs. The first song in the fic is not going to be y/n’s but the second one is. I would like to preface this by saying it’s like a face claim but for a song lol idk how to describe it 😭

Y/n’s Pov

I just finished my last song of the night and I am saying my goodbyes to the drunk people of the infamous Stark party.

Then suddenly Tony walks onto the stage (more like trips) and slurs

“You can’t sing good! Only good singers can sing every genre”

I chuckle at him and say

“Tony I can sing every genre. I just don’t.”

He smiles at me like he’s about to win something.

“Prove it. Sing a country song.”

I smirk and look over at Natasha who is on one of the couches watching me from afar and she gives me an eyebrow raise so I say

“What’s in it for me?”

He thinks and says

“You know how you always want me to make you your own iron man suit?”

He waits for me to nod and when I do he continues

“I’ll make one for you if you can sing a country song with no lyrics”

I hold my hand out immediately saying

“Deal”

He pauses and says

“But! You can’t sing one of the popular ones that everybody knows like before he cheats okay?”

I keep my hand out firm and say

“Deal”

So he takes it and we shake on it. I make it a point to look at the crowd and say

“Y’all are seeing this right?!”

They all nod and I once again give Natasha a little smirk knowing I’m getting an Iron Man suit.

So I go backstage for a second and grab my guitar and then I pull up a stool and adjust my mic.

I take a breath and say

“Here goes nothing”

Making the crowd laugh a bit. Honestly anything can make a drunk person laugh.

Either you can listen to this or just read the words. Idc. It helps if you listen. (It’s only part of the song btw)

I start strumming the guitar like my teacher taught me. I learned how to play on this song so it’s in my heart.

But it doesn’t matter. I’m still nervous as fuck. I might have learned how to play with this song but I never had to perform it.

I never stay in one place too long

A dirt road's singing me a siren song

I smile when I start to feel the music. I can see a couple people recognizing the song. But not many since it’s only like half way popular.

I gotta find a field

I need to spin my wheels

I got a hankering for four wide tires

And I can't help it it's the way I'm wired

'Fore you get too close

At the last minute I decide to change the words since I’m gay and I don’t like boys. Don’t wanna send the wrong signals.

Girl you need to know

I got a heart like a truck

It's been drug through the mud

Runs on dreams and gasoline

And that ole highway holds the key

It's got a lead foot down when it's leaving

Lord knows it's taken a hell of a beating

A little bit of love is all that it's needing

But it's good as it is tough

I got a heart like a-

“Hold on hold on hold on!”

Tony cuts me off so I stop playing. I give him nasty look and everyone in the crowd boos him since he literally cut into the song I was singing. But before I can say anything he says

“I know this song. I wanna hear something I haven’t heard before.”

I roll my eyes and say

“Stark, you actually only asked for a not super popular country song. I’m singing a half way popular country song.”

He shakes his head and says

“Okay me something you know I’ve never heard before.”

I smirk and look over at Natasha and she nods her head.

So I run backstage and tune my violin so I can play the bridge and then I set it on my stand and oick up my guitar again.

“You wanna hear something you’ve never heard before? I’ll give you just that”

He narrows his eyes and says

“What’s the song name?”

I sigh and say

“Leave Texas Dry.”

He folds his arms and sways a bit. He’s still drunk as fuck

“Who’s it by?”

I smile at him sweetly and say

“Y/n motherfucking Y/l/n”

His face goes white knowing he just lost and I say

“You seem to have forgotten my roots Anthony. I was born and raised in Texas. In other words you just lost a bet with a country girl.”

He scoffs and says

“Not yet. The song has to be good. How do I know it’s not chicken shit?!”

I smirk and say

“Let me fucking play and you’ll see”

The crowd low key goes wild and I sit my happy ass back down and start playing.

I’ve only played this song for Natasha, but I sure as hell practiced so many times that I memorized it. I was not about to get it wrong in front of my possible girlfriend at the time.

I remember asking her to be my girlfriend after singing it.

Once again I am NOT Kay O’Neil. I am simply an acquaintance that loves her music and also happens to write fanfics lol.

Here’s the song if you wanna listen before reading.

She’s like summer rain

Takes my cares away

Drives me insane

She’s all I need

Just for her to stay

Is all I plead

While singing I start thinking of her. I am only looking right at her and I think of the first time I met her. Before we dated I could not handle myself. It’s almost funny how clumsy and awkward I got around her.

‘Cause when she smiles

My heart can’t take it

And I’d go miles

Just so we could make it

‘Cause I’m startin’ to see

How hard it would be

To let her pass by

And leave Texas dry

I was just a girl from Texas that ended up with powers. I had no idea what my life was to hold.

She’s pourin’ down

And I can’t get enough

Wanna keep her ‘round

I remember the first time we danced in the rain. I was sad and sitting on the roof. She, being my best friend, had come out and sit there with me. Then it started raining and she pulled me up to go inside but I stopped her and asked her to dance with me.

I stepped on her foot a few times but she didn’t mind.

‘Cause when she smiles

My heart can’t take it

And I’d go miles

Just so we could make it

‘Cause I’m startin’ to see

How hard it would be

To let her pass by

And leave Texas dry

I pick up my violin for the bridge and start playing with all my heart.

Then I look at Natasha and smile seeing her bright smile on display. She can make me melt from one look. And I start singing the bridge.

It’s hard lettin’ go

When her love is all I know

But I want her to do

What she wants to

I wrote that because I was terrified. We had a situationship, but she was scared of love. And I was scared of life without her. But I wanted the best for her so I was ready for rejection.

Then I slow it down for the last chorus.

‘Cause when she smiles

My heart can’t take it

And I’d go miles

Just so we could make it

‘Cause I’m startin’ to see

How hard it would be

To let her pass by

And leave Texas dry

She blows me a kiss and I send her a dopey smile and I suddenly remember the black box in my pocket. I kept it on me for any time that was perfect. And honestly. What a better way to do it?

So I move my hand to signal her up here and I give Wanda a look to make sure Tony doesn’t get in the way of it.

She immediately understands and nods her head having her mission set out.

Then Natasha makes it onto the stage as I sing the last few lines.

Oh don’t leave Texas dry

Leave Texas dry

I stand up and look at her and she has a surprisingly watery smile.

I hand her my violin since the stand is behind her and while she turns around I shush the crowd and get down on one knee while getting the ring box.

She turns around and gasps.

I give her a loving look and say

“Natasha. You have been there for me from the very beginning. I remember my first day here and Clint was showing me around telling me not to get hurt if you didn’t like me. But you surprised everyone by volunteering to help me get my things and you were so kind. I knew in that moment I wanted you. I have known for so long I love you. I love you so so much and I will never stop loving you.”

She has her hand covering her mouth and her eyes are watering. The crowd, thankfully, is dead silent except for the few coos from them since the mic is still on. I have my head mic on today instead of using the normal microphone.

“I asked you to be my girlfriend three years ago with this exact song. And when you said yes I almost passed out. I completely expected you to reject me by punching me in the face. I honestly am surprised you haven’t punched me even now. And I thought, what a better time to ask this question than doing it like I did in the beginning. So please. Make me the happiest woman alive and marry me?”

I look hopeful and she pretends to think about it like she did the first time but ultimately she nods and says

“Yes y/n I would love to marry you”

After that I break and let out a sob and shakily place the ring on her finger. She actually had to help me because I was so shaky. But she pulls me up to stand and kisses me in front of everyone.

And then our moment is ruined by Tony patting me on the back.

I look at Wanda and she sends a sympathetic look that says ‘I did all I could’ and then I smile knowing we at least got a moment. But Tony says

“Look at that ladies and gentlemen and everything in between”

I smirk knowing I rubbed off on him. And he continues regardless

“All of this happened because of me.”

I roll my eyes and instead of fighting with him I just let him have his moment knowing he won’t remember this in the morning and say

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. But you still owe me a suit”

He groans and runs off to get another drink. I turn to Natasha and say

“Let’s go to our room fiancé”

A/N: I hope y’all liked it!!! I def let my country out a bit. But not a lot. You can tell I’m from Texas from the y’all

Taglist comment or message me to be added to Taglist!!!

@ilovesnat @ihartnat

#natasha romanoff #avengers #fanfic #marvel #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #fanfiction #black widow

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ozzgin · 7 months ago

Note

Hope you’re doing well! Just read your monster writer fics. I love the idea, it’s so hilarious to imagine a monster having a human kink. Beat what if the reader is also an author? And author who writes monster fucking stories! I could just imagine them working together. Helping where the other is curious/lacking knowledge. They could write a companion series where one book is the monster’s pov and the other is human pov all for the same interaction. Oh! Or what if our little human is being hired to write a very intimate book about a different breed/species of monster, how would our writer monster respond/help? Just such a fun idea to play with!

In my attempt to connect some of the stories together, I came up with the idea that the Monster Author is a frequent guest at Monster Hotel. And Reader could be working at the hotel as a way to make money on the side, because their published books aren't quite at the same level of popularity yet.

Both write monster-human smut. They have no idea about each other. The Monster Author is a scattered airhead, too absorbed by his writing to notice anything around him. He is completely oblivious to the multiple fliers and brochures advertising a human employee. He leaves manuscripts and unfinished pages all over the room, which are then sorted and cleaned by Reader, but the handwriting is too atrocious to decipher. Reader has no idea what all that paper is about.

And then, it happens. The hotel hosts a small award ceremony for creative writing, featuring old-timers and promising newcomers. The two main winners for erotic romance are Monster Author and Reader.

"We'd like to congratulate our own (Y/N), for being not only an exemplary employee, but a talented writer as well", the manager announces.

The Monster Author is mildly curious about this mysterious hobby artist. Reader climbs onto the stage, and the dots finally connect. They stare in disbelief. To think they've been folding the sheets of their favorite writer. The ancient Beast returns their shocked look. An actual human? They had an actual human under his nose, this entire time?!

He immediately begins to devour Reader's books. Fascinating. This demands a collaboration. No, a permanent partnership. Reader must quit this silly job at once, there are ideas to be uncovered and stories to be created. He insists. He would be more than glad to help Reader elaborate on monster...particularities. He can even demonstrate it himself, if Reader would only allow it.

#monster author #monster hotel #monster x reader #monster x human

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perfctvelvet · 7 months ago

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Megan Fox fics plssssssss

Last Call; Megan Fox/Fem!Reader

Content: 2nd POV. Strangers, slight infidelity (reader is dating someone but not exclusive), semi-public sex, D/s elements, praise and teasing, oral sex (Megan receiving), boot riding

Being one of the few bars in the town with a 4am liquor license made Aire one of the more popular bars around. It was somewhat upscale, but not completely a high-end bar. Megan has been working behind the bar for almost a year now, but this isn't her first bartender rodeo. When it came to last call she always had to call one of the security guards to come get the hanger-ons who thought they still had a chance to pick someone up for the night.

Tonight was no different. Last call was announced and some people began to slink out while others stayed. It was now Saturday morning, and the usual crew of hanger-ons were still sitting at the bar, trying to get in one more drink before they were forced out. One person stood out like a sore thumb though: you.

Megan has never noticed you before and she considers herself quite talented with remembering names, faces, and stories. It's not like it never has happened before, but it was rare to see a woman sitting at the bar alone for hours until the final call. She's been watching you all night, but not in a creepy way. She is often curious and she is curious about you. You didn't look particularly sad, but it was rare that anyone who sits at the bar alone for hours until close wasn't ruminating over something.

"Hey," she called out to you, instantly grabbing your attention. "Did you hear it was last call? Do you need anything?"

"Oh, no thank you. I'm okay."

You thought the conversation was going to end right there and then, but she walked your way and stopped right in front of you. She rests her hands on the bar and looks at you until you look back at her. You felt a little displaced. The bar is not your usual choice for a night alone so you weren't used to this. Was she trying to get you to leave? You were about 1 of 15 people still inside. The only sound in the room was low chattering and the sound of glasses being cleaned and polished.

"Do you always sit at bars by yourself?"

"Never, but the day I'm having -- well had -- seems fitting."

Some would call Megan nosy, she called it great customer service. Hundreds of faces came in and out of here every single week and someone always had some sort of story. Happy ones, sad ones, bizarre ones; Megan has heard them all. She always found people's actions and the whys behind them to be so fascinating. If she had gone to college she probably would've studied psychology, but she found standing behind the bar and hearing people talk to be more fulfilling.

"What kind of day was it?"

"It's not that interesting."

"I'm not really concerned with how much it's going to wow me. I hear enough crazy stories in one day, that I don't mind the stories that people may think will dull me. So, what kind of day was it?"

You looked around to see where everyone was. The other bartender was at the far end and the closest person to the two of you was six seats away. It was unlikely that anyone was going to hear or care about what you had to say about your day.

"I'm starting to see this girl and she was talking about what she wants in bed, and it feels like she was describing someone who was the complete opposite of me."

"What do you mean?"

The sex stories patrons told weren't scant, but it was rare for someone to admit that they may or may not be lacking in the bedroom. You seemed so sweet, and a little shy, to Megan so your honesty was brave to her. However, she wasn't prepared for what you had to say next.

"She wants me to be submissive in the bedroom and...and I've never been that!"

Megan always does her best to keep an open mind yet here you are insinuating that you like to be the dominant one in bed and she's shocked. Maybe under that sweet demeanor was someone mean who could fuck their lover hard and right.

"Well, when she says submissive, does she mean hardcore stuff like restraints and whips?"

"No? At least I don't think so? We haven't explored all of that yet, we haven't even fucked yet! I used to consider myself to be more flexible and at the whims of my girlfriends, but I think I'm a little jaded by my ex-girlfriend, y'know? She was a little bit of a pillow princess, which I didn't mind, but it's been a long time since I've been vulnerable to let someone have control of me like that."

"Well is that what you want?"

"I don't know? I'm not opposed to it. I guess it just feels like another mental shift. This must be what it feels like for former ballerinas to try to dance again after decades of not doing so."

"Yet, even ballerinas still retain something. It's muscle memory. If it feels natural to you, then do it. You know..."

"Y/n."

"Y/n, you don't have to do things you're uncomfortable with, right?"

"I know, I know. It's just that I really like this girl and our dates have been amazing so far. Personality-wise we click so much, but for some reason I just struggle to break this mold. Maybe I've adapted a little bit of that dominance into my personality and it feels a part of me."

"So let me ask you this, if you were to start dating another partner and she wanted to keep things vanilla, how would you feel? No one in the situation is particularly dominant or submissive, it's just a passionate, go-with-the-flow, sort of situation."

"I don't know. I guess I wouldn't mind it either. Like I said earlier, I care a lot about my partner's pleasure and whatever they want, I will go along with it."

"Okay, but what do you want? I've met people who are dominant and liked be fucked rough and people who seem more docile be dominant -- like you. So, deep down, what do you feel? Do you want to fuck, be fucked, or just make love to someone?"

You sigh, thinking really hard about what your heart's current desires are. Maybe it was the alcohol or the rough work week you had, but you wanted someone to hold you sweetly while fucking your brains out. You wanted that so bad, not all the time, but right now you did. You just didn't know how to vocalize it. You didn't have to though because Megan read you like a book. A smirk spreads on her lips and she picks up your glass before dumping out the rest of your drink you weren't going to finish.

"We are always changing, Y/n. There's nothing wrong with that, and equally there is nothing wrong with saying what you want."

"Fine. I would love for that girl to top me." Admitting that was like a weight being lifted off of your shoulders. The break-up with your ex was rough and you probably held onto some things for that. It wouldn't be fair to bring that into a new relationship. You wanted to let go and do what you felt was right. The only thing is you were unsure if you could do that. This new girl is not a rebound and you weren't going to treat her like one. "I would love that, but I just don't know how to let go."

Megan cocks her head to the side. There was something about you that was so cute that she understands why this new person you're seeing wants to fuck the shit out of you. You were so tightly wound and seemed like the woman to always be in her head, overthinking every little action. In her personal life she seemed to be attracted to your type no matter how many times she had to remind herself that relationships are not a conquest. Yet, she felt moved to help you a little.

"You don't have to do it alone. There's plenty of people who would love to help you out."

The coquettish slant in her voice and the way she leans into the bar is enough to get her point across. Your heart starts to beat irregularly, and instantly you see the image of your new possible girlfriend in your head. You two weren't exclusive at all, in fact she talked about another date she might be going on with someone who isn't you. You can't be upset with her because on the very first date you two laid out the rules and discussed what it would mean if you two were exclusive. She told you you were free to see other people while you two still get to know each other, but just be safe and honest about it. Neither of you had the 'what are we' conversation yet. This was something like a movie; hot bartender offers to sleep with a patron instead of just kicking her out 30 minutes before close. You rationalized this situation by telling yourself that this will help out your future relationships.

"Do you happen to know one of those people?"

Megan's smile widens. She got you reeled in.

"Meet me around the back door. Bars' gonna close early tonight."

You felt a little odd just standing there waiting for Megan. A chill had fallen over the night, which was now morning.

After every body was out, Megan ended her shift. She came out the back to you waiting for her. She half thought you would've left and just gone home. That wouldn't have been surprising at all, but it seems like you were serious about working out the kinks.

"My cars over there."

She points to a black SUV. It's not the biggest, but surely it could fit the two of them in her back seat.

"Okay."

You start walking towards her car, but you're stopped by her grabbing your hand. You stop dead in your tracks and look back at her in confusion. Megan has had this coy look on her face all night, almost as if she knows something that you don't. Looking at her sent electricity down your spine. Her eyes were piercing.

"Not yet," she says firmly. "Get on your knees."

Right here? Right now?

You almost asked that out loud, but you were too stunned to speak. At any moment Megan's co-workers could walk out and see them. She looked so confident and sure of herself though, maybe she has done this before and the people she works with are used to it? Surely anyone fucking on the property would get fired, but Megan didn't seem to worry about anything. You on the other hand worried. You wanted to feel free but it was going to feel free when you had the fear of getting caught stuck on the brain. You look around and there is not a single soul on these streets. Pretty soon the soon will start to rise and signal a new day, but right now you two were shrouded in darkness save for the outside light attached to the building.

You obey. After seconds of standing there, you finally obey and it makes Megan happy.

"Good girl," she purrs.

It's been so long since you've heard those words uttered to you in such a sweet manner. It scratched a deep itch that you had. You tried to picture the girl you're seeing saying those exact same words to you as you stare up at her, but all you can see is Megan.

Megan caresses the top of your head, enjoying the view of you down on your knees. It looks like you belong there in between her knees and looking up at her. The sight almost makes her moan. She had no clue what she was going to do with you when she asked you to meet her out back, but now her pussy is begging for attention.

"I want you to keep being a good girl for me, push my skirt up, and pull my thong down."

You do more than listen, you eagerly run your hands up her thighs to push her skirt up around her waist. The moment you were about to pull her thong down, she stopped you.

"Aht! Go slower. Don't rip the damn thing off of me!" Megan's tone is a little more harsh. In any other setting she would enjoy how eager you are to please, but she wants to take her time.

You feel slightly embarrassed but you push and continue anyway. You hook your fingers in the thin straps of her thong, but you don't pull them down her legs just yet. Instead you lean in and kiss her inner thigh. Megan instantly shivers and lets out a sigh that makes her sound like she's melting. You kiss her thigh again, remembering how much previous girlfriend's have gone crazy over that.

"Just like that."

You're happy to hear the approval in her voice instead of that nagging tone. You wanted to please her. At first you thought that you going down on her was going to give you power over her, but she's telling you what she wants, thus making you relinquish your autonomy in the situation. You find yourself waiting patiently for her next instructions; peppering butterfly kisses all over her inner thighs.

"I want you to suck on my clit like a good girl, okay? I know you can open that mouth and work wonders, I know you can."

It was every single encouraging word that left you hooked and addicted for more. You found solace in how she called you a 'good girl' and wanted to hear it over and over again. You need that, so you obey. Her thong comes down and your face is pressed against her dripping sex.

"Oh fuck!"

Megan is shocked at the sound that comes out her mouth. All you did was lick her clit once, but god you were so good at it. After a long shift that gave her an ache in her back from standing, you between her legs made her melt. She grabs a handful of your hair rather roughly. It's not like you were going to go anywhere, but she held onto you tightly.

"You sure you struggle with being a submissive little bitch?" She whispers between moans. She didn't mean to sound so harsh, she was just too turned on. And her words were turning you on. You found yourself wanting to perform for her, to be her good girl. "Don't stop," she moans again, breathlessly.

The juices coming from her pussy slide down your chin and you can feel it drop onto your bare knees. You never intended for this night to end in such a sloppy way, but with the way her juices mix with your saliva there was no other choice. You were slowly getting hooked on this stranger's taste; the way her legs quivered and her hips bucked at every lick. Her body was reacting in the way that your ex's always would when you went down on her, but everything felt different with Megan. You felt the flame deep in your belly and it made you desperate. So desperate that you pressed your clothed clit against her boot and started grinding against it. It wasn't the best feeling in the world but every little time you felt the friction against your clit you moaned into her pussy. Megan was shocked at how quickly you turned into a mess; then it dawned on her, this is who you were deep inside. It was like spilling your guts to a complete and utter stranger. It was so easy for you to give in and submit to her.

"Good fucking girl," she groans, clearly enjoying this all too much. "I should tell you how pathetic you look getting off on my shoe, but you just look so cute being this fucking thirsty for me...fuck me with your tongue!"

In seconds you slide your tongue past her slit and into her. Your hands are gripping her thighs but she grabs one of them and places it right on her clit. Instantly you start rubbing her clit.

"See you know what to do."

You can just hear the smile. There was still a little bite left in you and you enjoyed hearing her words turn to lewd moans as you rub her clit and tongue fuck her. The sounds coming from your mouth fill the back alley. It was downright filthy.

"Be a good girl and make me cum!"

She was close and you could feel her clit pulsing underneath your touch. She didn't give you permission, but you put your mouth back on her clit because you wanted to driveher higher. Your fingers don't just fall aside, you slide one into her and feel her warm walls wrap around it. If it weren't for you keeping her up, she might've been slumped over right now. Every single nerve seems to unwind as unadulterated pleasure washes over her. She moans and moans until she reaches her climax. Her voice gets caught in her throat as her cums seeps out of her and onto your face.

You feel something deep inside, nothing like it before. As Megan regains some of her composure she looks down at you and smiles. You almost feel like a dog that's about to be given a treat for good behavior. You should feel some sense of shame as you're not used to this, but instead you feel proud.

"Fuck," she lets her skirt fall down and she straightens up, "that was better than I thought it would be, no offense."

You were staring up at her with her cum on your face, of course you weren't offended. You wiped your mouth clean with your sleeve and stood up. Megan pulled up her panties and noticed how she could hear the birds chirping. The sun would slowly start to light the sky in about 20 or so minutes. She couldn't wait to go home and knock out after that.

"I think you'll do just fine," she pats you on the shoulder, something that feels oddly condescending. "But, if you ever need the reminder, I always work the closing shifts on Tuesdays and Fridays."

You didn't know what to say. You hoped you didn't need to come back and that everything with your new sort-of-relationship will work out. However, you feel a little pang in your stomach. Is it guilt for what you did? Is it sadness that it's over? Only time will tell.

#kinda loving 2nd pov 🙈 feels more exciting idk!#megan fox x reader #megan fox smut #celeb smut #celebrity smut #f/f #f/f smut #f/f fanfic #smut #blurb #lesbian fanfic #lesbian smut

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