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baby-yongbok · 1 month

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OnlyFans

Best Friend!Yang Jeongin x Afab!Reader

✦ Genre: Friends to Lovers - non-idol - [18+ Only]

✦ Content Description: 6.6k + 11 screenshots

✦ Summary: Your best friend finds out about your OnlyFans account which leads to you discovering how you really feel about him.

✦ CW: Unintentional exhibitionism(?), Unprotected sex [wrap it up party people] ✦ A/N: This is my FIRST Jeongin fic and I am hella excited! (and nervous) I really hope that you enjoy it! This is a hybrid of fake texts and story so make sure to open it all the way to see it all! AHH I'm so nervous.+ reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡ ✧ Masterlist ✧

Sleep abandoned you after you and Jeongin spoke, your thoughts were everywhere and nowhere and your body was working against you. Why does the fact that your best friend thinks that you’re hot turn you on? Why are you imagining him touching himself to the sounds of you moaning while you fuck yourself?

Is he big?

How would he feel?

Wait - how did he not recognize your voice?

You never show your face, only the shoulders down, but you’ve uploaded voice notes. You’ve done tons of horny rambles that he had to have listened to. Okay, wait wait wait, does he only get off to you? He said that you’re the only girl that he follows on the site… Okay, stop, brain shut the fuck up.

The next day you tried to operate how you normally would. You went to the gym, you got your morning coffee, you thought about Jeongin moaning at the sight of you, you screamed in your car and you went back home. Honestly, this is working out great.

You did everything that you could to distract yourself from the unending thoughts. You did laundry, watched TV, skipped rope on your balcony, you even started color organizing your closet. That’s when your phones started ringing with that tone that you know all too well.

You stared at it for what felt like a second, you tried to calm yourself down and cursed yourself out in your head for making this such a big deal. He said that he doesn’t care. He won’t mention it, he’ll just get off to your videos and that’s that. Jeongin is your best friend who finds you hot and touches himself to your videos, that’s so normal. You’re so normal about this.

By the time you finally hyped yourself up to answer his call the phone stopped ringing and you let out a huff of heavy air that you weren’t even aware you were holding. You’ll call him back…later.

Not even three minutes later there’s knocking at your front door and you rush to open it. You’re expecting a package today so this must be it. You swing the door open and your heart jumps out of your chest and runs down the hall. “Are you okay?”

Jeongin waves in front of your face to grab your attention as you stare at him, unmoving. “I called, you didn’t answer.” You clear your throat but end up choking a bit from how dry it is. You opt for nodding your head while you desperately swallow your spit to try and save you from further embarrassment.

“Right, yeah yeah come in, what’s up?” You hastily stumble to the side as you open your door wider. He stalks in like he always does, comfortable and confident. “You have my green jacket, Felix hyung wanted to borrow it tonight.”

”I gave that back, didn’t I?” You smooth down your skirt, suddenly feeling super self conscious. He’s seen you in this exact outfit more times than you can count but it’s different this time, right? No, it’s not supposed to be different. We’re acting normal. We’re so normal about this.

”Noona?” His fingers wrap around your wrist and you jump out of your thoughts, literally. “Is everything alright? You keep spacing out.”

Has his hand always been this damn big? That’s all that you can think to yourself as you stare down at where he’s holding you. “I’m fine, Jeongin,”

”You usually call me Innie.” He retorts with furrowed brows until it all clicks for him. “Is this about last night?”

You pull away from him like he’s on fire and start power walking to your bedroom before he can say another word. “I’ll go look for that jacket.”

You slam your room door closed behind you and sink to the floor against it immediately after. This is crazy, you’re acting crazy and horny and - and - fuck, has his hand always been that big?

Has he always called you noona that smoothly? Has he always been like… that? Wait, no, pull it together. Find the jacket and send him away so you can spiral in peace.

After about ten minutes of searching through the mess you made and battling your inner demons you find the jacket that Jeongin came for. When you leave your bedroom you expect to see him sitting on your couch but you find him in your kitchen instead. He’s washing your dishes while he hums some song that you’re sure that you could identify if you concentrated but you can’t think straight. Your brain isn’t working at all because your best friend is standing there, at your sink, washing your dishes… In only a white tank top and gray sweatpants.

Your eyes find the discarded sports sweater he arrived in thrown sloppily over one of your counter stools before they quickly return to Jeongin’s toned back. This shirt should be illegal. He shouldn’t be allowed to look this good.

You stand there, jacket in hand and thighs pressed together while you try to muster up the courage to say something, anything. Just as you’re about to speak he turns around with a cup full of water but it’s only full for a second before he jumps with a scream and pours it all over himself.

”Ya, noona!” He huffs, bracing himself against the counter. “What the hell? You scared the life outta me.” He drops the now empty cup into the sink and braces himself with both hands against the marble.

“Why are you just standing there?” You don’t even hear his question. You can’t hear anything except for the fast beating of your heart and incoherent screaming from your last brain cell as you take in the sight before you.

The front of his shirt is soaked and you can see right through the fabric sticking to each and every dip and contour of his unbelievable body. Has he always been… so hot? “Noona, seriously, what is going on with you? Do we need to talk about something?”

He steps towards you and you take a clumsy step back. “I uh, found the jacket.” You sit the jacket on the stool where his sweater is then look back at him. You look him in the eyes this time to avoid possibly fainting but you quickly discover that his gaze is just as intoxicating.

“Forget the jacket, I’m trying to figure out if -“ He takes another step towards you and you take two back.

“Okay, so I’ll see you later, right? Awesome, later Innie.” You rush back to your bedroom just as he takes another step to try to stop you. You slam the door shut and repeat the same routine as earlier. When did he get so hot?

What the fuck? Did he just ask you if you like it?…Why is the answer yes? Why does that make every thought that you’ve been thinking for the past 12 hours way worse? You gotta pull it together, you can’t let a simple question cause you to spiral. He probably didn’t even mean it like that…right?

You spend the next three hours trying to forget that text. You take a shower and cook yourself a dinner that you barely even touch because it’s not what you want. It’s not him, do you want him?

You drag yourself to your bedroom after you stuff your leftovers in the fridge and plop down on your bed. You scream into your mattress once or twice before you decide that you can’t take it anymore, you need to do something. Anything.

Before you can even really think about it you’re in your closet that should honestly count as a second bedroom but you're fine with it being your mini studio. This is where you’ve filmed every video, where you capture every picture and record every ramble. This is where you are when you make the content that Jeongin loves. Maybe he’ll love this too.

You make yourself a bit comfortable in front of the large mirror on the wall and turn on your voice recorder. “Hey there…Do you have a second? I just wanna get something outta my head.”

You settle into the fluffiness of your bean bag chair and spread your legs in front of the mirror. Your pajama shorts ride up a bit and the thin gusset exposes just enough of your cunt for you to take in. “I’ve been thinking about you all day, yeah you. I can’t get you off of my mind and it’s driving me crazy.”

You sigh into your phone, glancing down at the recorder to make sure that it’s still running. Your free hand runs over the scarf tying your hair back and trails down the side of your neck. Your fingers brush over your sweet spots slowly and carefully kinda how you think he would do it.

”I want you.” It’s more of a whisper than you intended but you keep going. “I want you so badly that it’s driving me mad. I bet you know that though, don’t you?”

You nearly say Jeongin’s name at the end of that sentence and you nearly moan it into the air when your fingers brush over your nipples. “Tell me that you thought about me too.”

Your hands start moving faster, grazing your covered and exposed skin with a hungry haste that you’re sure that Jeongin would recreate. He’d explore you with a lust driven by curiosity and desire. He’d rip you apart and take his sweet time putting you back together. He’d be rough and gentle, slow and fast, shallow and deep. He’d be everything.

You didn’t even realize that you were still talking into the recorder when your eyes snap open. You have no clue what you’ve said and you have no clue when you started rubbing at your clit but you don’t care. Moans are tumbling from your chapped lips as drool threatens to spill over the corners.

There’s nothing but pure carnal desire lingering around you and it’s all for your best friend. All for a man that you’ve never looked twice at until today, or have you? You always knew that Jeongin was attractive. You always felt a tingle when he’d hold you or play around with you but you’ve learned to push it down. It was manageable until last night. That’s when the dam broke.

”In- I - I need you.” You almost said it, almost let it slip. “Touch me please, please.”

Your fingers are slipping inside before you can even process it. You’re stroking up against your g-spot at a pace that should be painful but you feel nothing but bliss because you’re thinking of nothing but him. Him him him.

The slick sounds of your cunt are loud enough to be caught on the recorder but you wouldn’t be surprised if they’re completely overshadowed by your moans. “Make me cum, please please please, m’ gonna cum.”

Your vision is going white before you can even take a deep breath, it gets caught in your throat as you cry out. You’re panting, mumbling curses left and right and then right as you’re ending the recording it finally slips. “Innie”

After sitting and staring at your reflection for maybe thirty minutes you finally pulled yourself up off of your bean bag chair and freshened up. You plopped down onto your bed face first and screamed, this seems to be becoming a routine.

Once you get a grip you sit up against your pillows and stare at the new audio. How could you make this while thinking about Jeongin? Are you a terrible friend? Can you blame him for being hot? Can you say that it’s all his fault and just live life hating him for ever finding your account? No, I mean, yeah you could but that would be stupid.

You load the audio into your Only Fans account and put together the new post. You usually wouldn’t think twice about uploading a ramble, you’d usually listen to it in your headphones to check the quality and then throw it online for your subscribers to enjoy but this one feels different. This one feels wrong to post. After a bit of debating you take a deep breath and go for it. It can’t be that bad right?

Nevermind

It’s been about an hour since you posted the audio and it’s gotten back to back likes and comments. You’ve even gotten some chat requests with tips that you plan to reply to later but the one that just came in caught your attention.

You don’t know what it is about it, maybe it’s the username or the energy behind their message but you’re almost a thousand percent positive that it’s Jeongin on the other side of this chat.

You sound so pretty in your new audio. You’re really fueling my imagination tonight. I.2.n.8 Sent a tip

You stare at the message for so long that you forget to blink. This is so obviously him. The user name is a dead giveaway. Jeongin is messaging you about your new ramble… you shouldn’t reply.

Fuck.

You replied. You replied and you flirted so fucking hard that you’re sure that he’s blushing in his bed just like you are right now. You’ve talked to plenty of guys like this. You flirt and make them feel special and then boom more tips but you don’t even care about the money right now, not when you’re having so much fun texting - sexting - the only man that’s been on your mind. Your best friend.

When you see Jeongin the next day at a small get together you expect it to be awkward. You expected for him to give you knowing looks from across the crowded restaurant table but he didn’t. He acted completely normal like he hasn’t been sexting his best friend for the past eight hours.

You tried your best to mimic his demeanor. You spoke to him as normally as you possibly could and as the night went on it got easier to ignore the elephant in the room. You stole some food off of his plate and even sang karaoke with him at the bar that you went to afterwards. You almost forgot about the messages, until you got home.

Care to help me with a situation, sweetie? I’ll make it worth it, I promise. I.2.N.8 Sent a tip

Holy Fuck, that’s a big tip… like, money… that kind of tip. You sat on the edge of your bed with a messy cocktail of cheap liquor running through your veins and giving you confidence to do things that will surely have you screaming into your mattress later, and not in the way that you really want.

You strip down and head to your closet, clicking a few pictures in poses that you’ve never tried before and some that are your tried and true classics. You hold your breath as you organize the album and attach a price to it. If he really wants to see it he can pay, you’ll be needing the money to fund your therapy sessions after this anyway cause this teasing is driving you insane.

Right when you send the set to the ‘mystery’ guy a text from Jeongin drops down into view and you’re instantly covered in goosebumps.

Ayen 🥐❣️: I had fun with you today, missed you. Ayen 🥐❣️: I work late tomorrow but I’m free the day after, wanna come over?

This is suspicious… right? You should decline. Yeah definitely decline, you don’t wanna risk anything happening that could ruin your friendship.

You’re screaming into your mattress again.

You accepted the invitation as you were thinking about declining it.

You never stood a chance.

You don’t sleep, instead you plan a cute but chill outfit to wear when you go over to his place. It’s not a date but you still wanna be cute, this isn’t weird. This is normal.

What’s not normal is the way that you’ve been glued to your phone since this chat with Jeongin popped up. You’re not neglecting your other messages but you do spend extra time on his chat. You give him exclusive content that barely costs a thing and you’re fucking enjoying it. You’re addicted. So much so that when you get to Jeongin’s house the next day for your hang out it’s all that you can think about.

You’ve been here for about an hour and a half. You thought that it was just gonna be you and Jeongin. You thought that it was gonna be a nice best friend date. It’s not.

“You seriously never saw that video before?” Jisung asks Felix with a mouth half full of whatever he ordered a bit ago. You’re sitting next to Jeongin on the couch with his roommate Seungmin next to him and his other roommate Felix on the floor with Jisung. ”Never.”

They fall into some conversation that everyone seems to be paying attention to but you. You’re too busy staring at your blacked out phone screen as you try to cope with the fact that you’re sitting next to the man that you’re secretly sexting.

He hasn’t made anything weird just like he promised, everything is fine. You just need to calm - what the fuck?

Your phone chimes and your screen lights up to show a browser notification. An OnlyFans notification. You look over to the man next to you to catch him stuffing his phone in his pocket while he laughs at something that Felix said. Did he seriously just text you?

He did. You open your browser and the message is right there. Staring at you while you stare at him.

Bet you’re lookin’ so pretty today, sweetie. I.2.n.8 Sent a tip Mind showing me what you’re wearing today?

You gulp down the spit pooling in your mouth and choke a bit but you hide the cough well, you think. Why would he text you now? Why here? Maybe this is a good chance to see if it’s really him. Yeah, this is your chance.

You type the cutest reply you can think of while your heart does the cha cha slide in your chest and hit send. You hold your breath as you wait for the ding but you’re choking once again when you actually hear it.

Jeongin reaches into his pocket and smiles down at his phone. He doesn’t unlock it. He doesn’t check the message. But you know what he does? He fucking smiles at you.

“You okay, noona? You’re spacing out again.” Seungmin is replying before you can even open your mouth.

“Maybe if you actually spoke to her instead of texting that OnlyFans girl she wouldn’t have to daydream.” The other two instigate Seungmin’s teasing and Jeongin only rolls his eyes with a smile.

“You’d be obsessed with her too if you’ve seen what I’ve seen” He settles back into the cushions a bit, extending his arm to the back of the couch behind you. He feels so much closer to you like this, or maybe it’s just because he’s talking about you to all of your friends. “She’s worth obsessing over.”

“Share her account then.” You jump a bit at the suggestion, it was quick but it was enough to gain Felix and Jisung’s attention. Jeongin is the opposite of you. He isn’t phased by the suggestion one bit, he just smiles down at his lap and shakes his head. “Nope, she’s a treasure that I plan to keep to myself.”

Seungmin scoffs and the other two start with the teasing again but Felix’s gaze keeps floating back to you. You try your best to relax, no one knows that you’re the OnlyFans girl so they aren’t actually talking about you. But this on top of Jeongin texting you while sitting right next to you is starting to be too much.

“Yeah yeah, tease all you want, I’m getting a drink.” Jeongin asks if anyone else wants anything from the kitchen and collects requests from almost everyone except for you. You just sit there quietly staring at your lap, quietly dying inside until the burning in your chest gets your feet moving.

“I’ll be back.” You mumble but only Felix replies, he’s the only one that heard you and his eyes follow you as you take the same path that Jeongin did a second ago.

Your friend is looking into the open fridge when you get to the kitchen. He’s grabbing a bottle of water when he notices you come around the corner.

“Hey, did you want -“

“Not here.” You whisper through clenched teeth, it’s quick and quiet enough for you to get the point across and then escape. “Do not message me here, are you insane?” Jeongin closes the fridge, water bottle in hand and a grin on his lips.

”What?” You look back to make sure that you’re still alone before stepping closer to him. ”Do not text me here.”

”Why would I be texting you when you’ve been right next to me?” He sips from the bottle in his hands before sitting it down. “I think that you’re confused about -“

”You’re I.2.n.8, I know you are. You’re the one who’s been tipping me and texting me on OF for days.” Jeongin looks down at the tile in an attempt to hide the smug grin on his face. “You promised not to make it weird.”

”I kept my promise.” He shrugs, looking back up at you with a different gaze, a darker one. “I haven’t made anything weird. I haven’t brought it up. It’s you who thinks that I’m texting you.”

He steps closer, leaving little room between you two. You can feel your face getting hot, the temperature is rising with each second that your eyes are on his. Your thighs press together and you take it as a desperate plea from your body but you don’t know what for. “ Do you want it to be me texting you?”

The air feels too thick with him so close, you can’t breathe. It’s too much. You turn away, desperate to retreat back to your safe space on the couch but he grabs your wrist before you can escape.

His other hand finds your waist and guides your back against the marble counter next to the fridge. “Don’t run away from me again, noona.” There’s barely an inch between you two and the air feels dry at this point. Your tongue feels too heavy to control in your mouth so you dip it out to skate across your bottom lip. Jeongin watches the movement carefully, too carefully.

”Tell me, do you want it to be me, hm?” He shifts, caging you between his arms as he leans against the counter. You catch the flex of his muscles from the corner of your eye and it makes you feel dizzy, what is going on? “Do you want it to be me who tells you how badly I wanna ruin such a pretty thing like you?”

You bite back a groan and sink into the surface behind you. He steps forward, now impossibly close as he moves to whisper in your ear. “Is that what you want, sweetie?”

Oh fuck, it is him. It’s really him.

”Jeongin, we can’t” You’re whispering to him so he whispers back. “Can’t what? What are you thinking about? I’ve only asked you a question.”

”You can’t be this close to me.” Your words feel forced and your limbs feel heavy as you try to find a way to settle against him. “This isn’t right.”

”Yeah? So you touching yourself in your closet and moaning my name is fine? But this isn’t right?” Your eyes widen the second those words leave his mouth, how did he know that you film in your closet? He’s been there a couple of times of course, he’s sat in your bean bag chair and he’s helped you pick out outfits but he never knew that you do Only Fans. So if he knows that you’ve been filming in your closet that means he recognized it from one of your videos… which means that he also had to have recognized you.

“You knew that it was me the whole time didn’t you?” Your eyes flick from his to his lips and back up. “You knew that it was my account.” His lips spread into a wide mouth smile as he mimics your previous pattern with his dark pupils.

“Maybe I did.” He moves his hand to your arm, running his fingers over the exposed flesh of your wrist. Every touch feels like fire as the pads of his fingers glide up your forearm. “Maybe I hoped it was you.”

His fingers press into your flesh every so slightly, it’s enough to make you shift into a firmer press of your thighs. “Maybe I only subscribed to the account because it looked like you.”

His fingers take their time going over the curve of your shoulder. They tease the strap of your top for a second, before dancing up the curve of your neck. “Guess I got lucky, huh?”

That was what tipped the bucket. That is what had you crashing your lips to his and wiping that smug smile off of his face in an instant. He moans into your mouth before you can moan into his, his hand cups your neck, pulling you closer as his other hand grabs at your waist.

It’s heated and sloppy. He feels just as desperate as you do with every clumsy swipe of his tongue over yours. You’re panting into his mouth, only pulling away for half a second to breathe before you’re tasting him again.

Your hands grab at his flexing arms, scratching and kneading the flesh before you move to make fists into the fabric of his shirt. He feels unreal, he’s more than what you dreamed of. He feels so strong and soft and he tastes like lust itself.

You press your body further into his, taking in the matching thump of his heart to yours as your lips move in an impossible rhythm. It’s clear that you both feel the same hunger, the same longing, the same need for each other. Maybe this was driving him insane too.

“Jump.” His command is muffled and wet against your lips but you understand him and swiftly obey. His hands move to the back of your thighs to help you up onto the counter and he briskly fills in the space between your parted legs with his slim waist.

You wrap your arms around his neck as his hands wander up your clothed thighs, his fingers dig into the plush flesh with a deep groan. “Fuck, do you know how long I’ve thought of this?” He trails kisses over your cheek and over the shell of your ear.

“I watched every video.” He moves down the curve of your neck, nipping and kissing the flesh to milk moans from your parted lips. “I listened to every audio. I saved every picture.”

He sucks bruises into your clavicle, licking over the rising cherry marks and planting sloppy kisses. “But none of that is as good as this.” You’re panting and moaning into his ear. Words don’t make sense. They jumble and disappear behind your eyes with each rough grab and desperate lick.

“Do you feel as good as you look, sweetie?” Your eyes flutter open when he pulls back from your neck. Both of your lids are low and your eyes have a lustful haze fogging them. “Can I please feel you?” His hands explore you while you fight with your tongue to form words. They skim over your curves and make you feel like you’re electric. You’ve wanted this, you wanted this so badly.

“We shouldn’t.” Your mouth forms the wrong words and you curse yourself for it. Jeongin just nods at you, hands still exploring your body until they reach your breast. He cups them, squeezing a bit and running his thumbs over your hardened nipples.

“We shouldn’t” He repeats after you, massaging your breast more intensely and pressing the prominent bulge in his sweatpants firm against your cunt. Your breath hitches and your eyes flutter shut.

“We can’t” It comes out as a moan as he leans in and sucks on the flesh on the other side of your neck. Your fingers rake through his hair and he groans at the slight tug you give. “You’re my best friend.”

“Don’t worry about making things weird.” He whispers between kisses to the shell of your ear. “Just worry about what you want.”

He pulls away again, fox eyes staring into yours. “You’re not gonna lose me, don’t worry.” Your eyes search his for a second and you can feel your resolve breaking.

“Touch me.” Your voice is barely above a whisper but he heard you, he’s just going to act like he didn’t. “Say it again.”

“Touch me, Innie, please. I wan’ it.” His hand is slipping down the front of your shorts in an instant. Everything is back to being clumsy and rough, fast and desperate. He moans when the pads of his fingers run over your slick folds.

“No panties, sweetie?” His eyes roll back and he bites at his bottom lip to try to control himself.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” He hooks his fingers into the side of your shorts and starts trying to work them down your thighs. “I need you, it’s driving me mad.”

You lift up for him and when you come back down his lips are on yours. “You’re driving me insane.” He whispers against your spit slick lips, his forehead is pressed to yours as his fingers roam your slippery cunt. He covers you in your own slick, dipping in and out of your folds and teasing your waiting hole.

“Please, no teasing, I can’t take it.” He rubs your clit, once then twice before slipping back down. “Innie, please I’ll be so good. I’ll be so good for you please just fuck me.”

He pushes a finger into you slowly, taking in the soaked warmth that he caused. This is all because of him and his cock twitches at the thought. You moan and arch your back, your nails dig into his forearms as he moves. His rhythm is steady and unfamiliar, it makes your body sing in a way that no one else ever has.

“You’re so tight, noona. So wet.” His eyes are glued to where his finger is disappearing inside of you. He adds another, pushing in slowly before taking his previous pace. “Oh fuck, this is how it looks when you fuck yourself. When you take those toys and stuff your cunt. Shit, it’s so hot.”

You’re grinding into his hand, meeting his fingers when they fill you to the knuckle. Your tongue is poked between your teeth in an attempt to keep yourself quiet but you’ve already failed. Each thrust is met with a whining whimper that Jeongin eats up like candy.

“Innie, Innie, c-can you curl them please? Curl your fingers inside of - holy shit, yes yes yes.” He watches your eyes roll back as your orgasm builds and builds.

“Did you think of me?” His voice is thick with lust as he watches you. “When you made your last audio, did you think about me?” You’re shaking your head before you can even filter the question. You admit it shamelessly as you chase your high that’s dangling in front of you.

“Yes, I did I did, I thought of you.” Your orgasm rushes up your legs and blurs your vision with one more stroke of his fingers but he’s pulling out before you can ride it out. You whimper at the loss but a gasp quickly follows when you’re filled with something thicker.

“I know.” He moans, bracing himself against the cabinet behind your head as he pushes into you. “You said my name in the audio, you know that?”

He bottoms out with a groan, your cunt is spasming around him as your previous orgasm rips through you but you can already feel another one building as the first one subsides. His other hand settles at the nape of your neck and he pulls you in for a searing kiss.

You can’t breathe being this full of him. With his tongue exploring your mouth and his cock stretching your walls. It feels like you're suffocating in the most delicious way. “Shit, your pussy takes - takes me so well.” You can feel his control dissolving. It’s evident in the way he pants against you and how his dark eyes droop lower and lower with each unsteady pull of his hips.

“I wanna take my time with you.” He whispers against your lips. “I wanna but I can’t.” He’s whining, moaning and cursing into the air as he drags against your walls. You can’t even really hear him if you’re being honest. Between the sloppy sounds of your cunt being fucked, the rapid beating of your heart and ringing in your ears you’re completely clocked out. Utterly brain-dead.

“Please, let me hear you. Please, I wanna know what you sound like when I fuck you.” Your voice shakes with a moan of his name as he switches his pace. His thrusts become faster and deeper, his breathing ragged, he’s doing his best to fuck you how he’s seen you fuck yourself. He’s doing his best to ruin you the same way that he imagined every time that he’d jerk his cock to your content.

“More more more, please. Deeper, I wan’ it deeper.” His hands move to your thighs at your request and he pulls your ass to the very edge of the counter. He supports your legs on either side of him while you brace yourself against the side of the fridge.

He pushes into you until his pelvis is flush against you. Every single thick inch of him is buried inside of you. Your pussy swells around him, squeezing him so perfectly that he lets his head fall forward with a moan. The hand that isn’t against the fridge balls the fabric of his shirt against his chest and slowly pulls it up until his torso is exposed to you.

“Oh, fuck.” Your eyes snap shut once you feel him twitch inside of you. You let your hand run over his toned core, taking in every firm dip from under his fallen shirt. “Move, please. Please, Innie.”

“‘M gonna cum if I move.” His voice is strained as he rummages for any last bit of self control but he’s lost it all. He pulls back slowly, swirling his hips to hit every spot that you could imagine and more. Your pussy clenches around him as he sinks back in and he nearly busts at the feeling.

“I can feel you in my fucking stomach.” That’s all that you had to say to break him. That’s all that you had to say to have him pushing deeper into you then pulling back with every intention of ruining you. The only sound that you can hear is skin against skin decorated by your harmonizing moans.

His eyes are shut tight as he moves, he’s biting his tongue, trying his best not to whine and moan like he does into his hand while watching your videos. You on the other hand are loud. You’re so fucked out and dazed that you can barely remember where you are. You couldn’t answer the first question asked to you even if you tried, the only thing that you can think of right now is Jeongin. Everything is him. Him, him, him.

“Innie ‘m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me. Gonna make me cum, fuck fuck fuck.” You scratch into his abs, leaving pretty red marks for him to remember this moment. Your head falls back as you float in the feeling of being dumb with pleasure. His hips slam into you at their own accord and you just take it. You let him fuck you just how he wants, just how you need it.

“Cum, please cum. You feel too good. sweetie. Gonna make me cum.” His thrusts become more frantic, his movements more erratic. Your body is trembling and your mind is blank. A familiar fuzziness takes over your vision as you lose control, you welcome it. You savor it and quietly beg for more. “Cum on my cock, noona.”

He’s begging and you’re complying. Your vision blurs with a hazy white, your breathing hitches, and your body trembles with pleasure. You’re more than positive that your damn near screaming his name as he fucks you through what might be the most intense orgasm of your life. “That’s it, Thank you for your cum. Thank you.”

His fingers dig into your thighs as his thrusts become unpredictable. He can’t take much more and he knows it. As much as he wanted to savor you he just can’t help but to get lost in the way you feel. He can swear that you were made for him. “Oh fuck, oh, fuck, I’m cumming.” With one final thrust he’s pulling out and milking his cock of thick ropes of white that settle on your inner thigh and drips down to frame your glistening cunt.

He slumps forward, forehead resting against yours as you both pant hot and heavy satisfaction into the air. The silence is loud, almost louder than your pounding heart and racing thoughts as your eyes flutter open to meet Jeongin’s.

You stare at each other, it’s soft and almost comfortable but there’s still this looming uneasiness in your chest that makes you feel like you made a big mistake. It makes you feel like you just lost something. “Here.” He speaks first, pulling back from you to reach for the water bottle that he had earlier.

“Drink this, please.” He’s gentle as he opens the bottle and raises it to your lips. He tips your head back with a bent finger and turns the bottle up for you. “Are you okay?”

You swallow hard, panting for another second before you try nodding your head but you don’t know what to tell him. “Hey.” He grabs your attention, pulling you out of your thoughts for a second and calming you with his touch. “Everything’s alright. We didn’t ruin anything.”

He smiles softly, pressing a soft kiss to your lips that you can’t help but melt into. Maybe he’s right. Maybe you’re just nervous to confront all of this, maybe you’re just scared to admit to yourself that you want him. You want him so badly and so much more.

He pulls back and you sigh, nodding your head with a whisper. “I’m okay.”

“Let me clean you up and we can talk?” He starts fixing himself up and you can’t help but to snort a laugh. “I feel like we did this in reverse order.”

He smiles as he moves over to the sink. “Yeah, maybe.” The two of you laugh softly as he wets a couple of paper towels. It’s quiet again. It's comfortable. Everything will be alright.

“Your bedroom is literally right down the hall, you couldn’t fuck there?” Seungmin yells to the two of you and you freeze, Holy fuckaroni, you forgot that they were here.

“You never even brought me my drink!” Jisung follows and Jeongin rolls his eyes and comes back over to you with the paper towels. Felix yells right after Jisung and you can’t help but to break out into laughter with Jeongin as he cleans you up.

“Are you two not confused that they just fucked? Is it just me?.”

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 1 year

Text

CALL MY NAME AND I'LL COME RUNNING ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; satoru can be irritating, at times. but even if you push him away, he’ll always, always be there for you when you need him.

word count; 8.7k (this was supposed to b a short drabble but i was possessed by the devil halfway through)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, reader n toru have a fight, mild swearing (a couple fucks here n there), hurt/comfort, satoru has communication issues but he’s trying his best, depictions of stalking (reader gets followed by a random creep but satoru comes to the rescue dw), uhh implied thoughts of violence? (satoru wants to Maul said dude but doesn’t), literally just me being in love with satoru gojo for 8.7k words straight

a/n; no thoughts head empty only gojo running through the streets like a wild beast looking for u <33 im normal about him yeah.

“you’re so annoying sometimes, you know that?”

satoru smiles. the sentence isn’t one he’s unaccustomed to hearing.

usually, the words are soaked in an undeniable fondness, as they spill from your lips. rich with exasperated love. one that never fails to have the corners of satoru’s lips curling up, a mellow kind of joy blossoming in his chest.

but now, that fondness is nowhere to be found.

you sound thoroughly exasperated, and a little bit fatigued. more than anything else, there’s a vague irritation behind the tilt of your voice, something almost cold. it makes all the difference in the world.

and yet, despite that, a certain someone chooses to pay no heed to the bad omen.

“aw, c’mon. you know you love me, baby.”

satoru is grinning. lighthearted, awfully sweet. there’s a certain smugness to it, though, one he couldn’t wash away even if he was aware of it; you wouldn’t do so even if you could. that smugness is a part of him, one that you’d usually find endearing.

but right now, it only seeks to further your frustration.

it was a stupid fight, truthfully. completely meaningless. satoru had forgotten to pick up after himself for, like, the fourth consecutive time, and so you grew annoyed. not by a lot, but enough that you felt the need to be firm when you reminded him not to make the same mistake over and over again.

but satoru had only grinned, in that self-satisfied fashion of his, and apologized in a way you couldn’t possibly call sincere. then he did what he usually does — promises to work on it. to not do it again. he never follows through, though.

but even that thought wasn’t anywhere near enough to make you truly angry. what really began to irk you was the fact that satoru wasn’t taking you seriously, even in the slightest.

that’s how he always is, when it comes to this kind of thing. and you try to be patient, you do. you try to be understanding. sometimes you even appreciate that he keeps the atmosphere light, but other times, you just can’t help but feel irritated by it.

and the current situation happens to fall into the latter category.

you don’t care if satoru leaves a candy wrapper or two out, every once in a while. of course you don’t. it’s a silly thing to argue about. but would it hurt for him to just listen to you? to try to put himself in your shoes, for once? it’s not about the wrappers, or the undone dishes. it’s about the way he treats you when you complain about it — like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t matter. even if it obviously does, to you.

so, gradually, the topic of your little argument began to shift, into a conversation about satoru. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to talk about the things that bother you in a serious fashion. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to take you seriously.

and he just keeps proving your point, with every word that falls from his lips.

at this point, you’re genuinely beginning to feel a little angry. but satoru doesn’t see that as the warning sign it is — he just thinks it’s cute. he’s just been cooing at you, this whole time, despite your numerous attempts to actually explain how much his behavior affects you sometimes. it feels a bit like talking to a wall. satoru keeps on teasing you, even as you try to be firm about your point, and only brushes you off with empty promises to do better and more unneeded comments about how much he wants to hug you when you pout like that.

and you falter, a little. of course you do. you’re weak to satoru. weak to his words, that sweet voice of his, that pretty grin. but that only makes everything worse, because if you let yourself look even a little bit flustered at his comments, he sees that as his cue to continue.

you don’t even know if he’s doing it on purpose, at this point. is he doing it because he knows it’ll annoy you, or does he genuinely not understand that you’re upset? you’d like to think that there’s no malicious intent behind it, but can’t he see how troubled you are? you don’t get it. you don’t get him, and that frustrates you most of all. satoru can be so goddamn convoluted, sometimes.

so you simply can’t help but feel annoyed. angry, even. how long have you been arguing for, at this point? you’re not sure. but you feel the frustration inside of you grow, as the minutes tick by, into something you know will eventually explode.

a sigh falls from your lips, deep and exasperated. a little bit exhausted. “i’m serious, satoru. you’re not even listening.”

“i am!” he protests, stubbornly. childishly. “you just look so cute when you’re all mad. not my fault you’re so distracting.”

satoru smiles, voice sugar sweet, but all you can do is frown. does he really think it’s cute that you’re upset? the thought makes you somewhat sad. but you can’t show that, can’t let that part of you win — you don’t even want to think about the possibility of you crying, because of this. yeah, no way in hell.

so instead, you channel it into anger. as the blood inside your veins comes to a boiling point, you dig your nails into the skin of your palms, gnawing at your bottom lip and shifting from one foot to another.

”satoru, i’m —” another sigh, sharp and vexed like the blade of a knife. ”i’m trying to have a serious conversation, here. can’t you see that i’m upset?”

satoru takes a moment to look at you, from behind the black glass of his shades.

he can. of course he can see that. you’re frowning, and there’s a crease between your brows, and you keep huffing and sighing every three seconds — you’re obviously, undoubtedly upset. and satoru wants to take you seriously, he does. it’s just that the part of his brain that only ever wants to coddle and tease you keeps persuading him not to.

he’s not lying, either; you do look cute. almost too cute to take seriously, when you’re pouting so sweetly, a little red in the face from all the frustration bubbling inside your chest. you look so small, glaring up at him like an angry puppy.

satoru can’t help but smile. it’d be impossible not to.

and he will listen to you, will take you seriously. he knows you’re angry, knows you’re upset, and he intends to deal with that properly. but he doesn’t need to do it right now.

just a little more teasing, before he has to stop beating around the bush. satoru dreads it, a little bit, dreads having to genuinely be serious, be open and apologetic. it always feels so strange, so discomforting.

all that stuff can wait until later. for now, he just wants to see you blush a little more, huff and puff at his limitless affection, that he knows you love deep down. where’s the harm?

(and therein lies the problem. satoru is observant, and typically good at seeing the line that he shouldn’t cross when it comes to you. but there are times when he slips up, times when he doesn’t realize that his words have begun to sting. times when the line becomes blurry, because he knows some part of you enjoys the way he babies you, and sometimes it blinds him to the part of you that doesn’t.)

satoru is smiling. it’s the same as always — big, bright, glazed over with honey-sweet adoration. smug and teasing. it’s such a satoru-like smile that it makes your breath hitch, sometimes, makes your heart race with wonder. but now all it does is annoy you. everything you love about satoru is annoying you, right now.

in your eyes, that pretty smile of his seems almost taunting. like he’s trying to pick a fight with you, trying to make you even more upset. you don’t want to blow up over something like this, you really really don’t — but for some reason, you feel dangerously close to. it’s not like you at all.

you bore into his eyes with a cold glare, even though you can’t exactly see them with his shades in the way. posture straight and rigid as you try to make yourself look bigger. you must look at least a little bit menacing, like this. right?

“i’m seriously angry with you,” you say, hoping your voice sounds as austere to his ears as it does to yours. “don’t you get that?”

satoru coos, unable to hold the sound back. he doesn’t notice the flicker of hurt in your eyes, only focusing on how the sunset rays frame your figure, kissing your skin with sun-soaked fervor. you look so pretty. and that angry look on your face is too tantalizing not to tease.

“aww,” he croons, inching closer to you. there’s a teasing glint in his eyes that you can’t see, unmistakably fond. “is my little baby that upset?”

you blink. his voice sounds even more sugar-sweet now, obviously exaggerated. there’s amusement there, too — like this is just one big joke to him. you think he must be doing it to belittle you, to embarrass you. speaking to you like you’re some kind of grumpy toddler, and not a grown adult trying to have a serious conversation with their partner. your blood boils, boils, boils.

— and so the cup overflows.

“oh, go fuck yourself.”

it’s almost in a hiss that the words fall from your lips, cold and harsh; they leave the confines of your throat before you have a chance to reconsider them, sudden and sickeningly heavy. crude, too. you’d never be so crass with him under normal circumstances.

but you’re overwhelmed, thoroughly and completely, and satoru is being particularly infuriating. you genuinely feel hurt by the way he’s disregarding your feelings, and that realization stings more than anything.

so you can’t help but say the words, louder than you meant to, before turning on your heel swiftly and walking out of the room.

you don’t even have time to register what you’re doing, legs moving on their own before your mind can catch up. brisk and heavy steps carry you to the door, all while you furiously attempt to blink away the tears of frustration that begin to form in your eyes.

it only takes a second for you to grab your jacket — then you’re out.

satoru hears the front door close, echoing off the walls of your apartment. you don’t quite slam it shut, but you close it with more force than usual, and he can’t help but inwardly wince.

a moment passes.

then, he flops down on the couch, lanky arms and legs dangling uncomfortably off the edges. the groan that slips from his lips is muffled by the soft cushion as he burrows his face into it, while replaying your interaction inside his mind.

satoru can’t help but feel uncomfortable, with this conclusion. a little bit irked. a vague something rests inside his chest, something he doesn’t quite want to admit to feeling. it makes him feel a little bit sick.

(”oh, go fuck yourself.”)

he can’t recall you ever raising your voice at him like that. when it comes to him, you’re usually so patient; soft, understanding, gentle. for you to have snapped in such a way — to have stormed out of the apartment in your anger — he must have pushed you pretty far.

satoru sighs.

he really pissed you off, huh?

(he can never quite seem to get this right, can he?)

it was never his intention to make you genuinely mad. he just lost sight of the line, for a second. that’s all.

and maybe he was also trying to avoid the issue, trying to avoid actually arguing with you. because he hates it. he hates it more than anything. satoru would much rather see you smile and blush than act all serious and sad.

he just wanted to make you laugh.

was it insensitive? yeah, probably. he just can’t help but fuck this up, it seems. now he’s gone and made you angry — and as much as the sight would usually thrill him, as cute as you look when you’re irritated, a pit of anxiety settles in his gut. everything just feels wrong.

more than anything, satoru feels restless. because, right now, there’s nothing he can do. he can’t chase after you, even if just to apologize — that’d make you even angrier.

he knows he needs to give you space. you were obviously overwhelmed; some fresh air will do you good.

it irks him, though. satoru wants to fix it. he always wants to fix everything, before it even breaks. and even now, all his mind can do is spin in circles, wondering how he could possibly cheer you up.

he’ll just have to apologize, when you get back. and hope you forgive him. maybe he can get you something sweet to munch on, or a bouquet of flowers. would that make everything okay again?

satoru doesn’t know. so he just scratches his head, and tries his damndest not to think of how defeated you looked before leaving.

your steps are heavy, dragging you forward, leading you somewhere you have no knowledge of. it’s chilly out, and the sun is already setting.

everything in the world feels so wrong. like it’s tilted slightly to the left, like the earth stopped spinning around its axis. like everything suddenly lost its saturation.

you just needed to get away from him, for a while. away from that smug smile, that patronizing tilt of his voice. you couldn’t even stand to be in the same apartment as him. it’s not often you feel that way, not often at all.

and it only increases your growing frustration.

you are beginning to calm down, though — you know you are. the crisp evening air and the pleasant mingle of people soothes your muddled senses, smoothing down the crease of your brow and the ache in your chest.

a heavy discomfort, and a growing guilt. that’s all you can feel, as the anger slowly seeps out of you, turning into vapour with every exhale of your breath.

you hate arguing with satoru. you hate it more than anything. the guilt clawing at your chest barely leaves any room for anger — you almost yelled at him. just the thought of doing that to satoru makes you want to cry.

because you love him, at the end of the day, even when he’s being absolutely insufferable. he’s a sweetheart, your sweet boy, always trying to lighten the mood and make you smile. maybe you should have been a bit more understanding; you know satoru’s bad at this stuff, bad with emotions and vulnerability. and deep down, you know he’d never hurt you, not on purpose.

he probably just didn’t realize that you were genuinely upset. it’s a mistake that anyone could make.

but it just makes you feel so frustrated. like he’s not even looking at you. always hiding behind those shades, never opening up. never letting you see him wear anything but a smile. you want him to take it slow, open up to you at his own pace, but that doesn’t make the wait sting any less.

it’s not like you were asking for a lot. first, you simply asked him to pick up after himself. the way you do, the way anyone does. then, you simply asked him to treat you with respect.

a sudden pang of bitterness runs through your chest. sure, you could’ve handled it all better — but he could have, too.

every step you take hits the pavement with an irritated kind of decision. whatever. whatever. for now, you don’t want to think about it — all you want is to walk around and take in the sights, enjoy the peace and quiet.

so that’s exactly what you do.

before you know it, the sun has set, and the moon has risen — shining down and painting the streets in a mesmerizing blue, ephemeral and tranquil. it’s enough to give you some peace of mind, as you lurk around familiar streets, soaking in all the open space. so different from that suffocating apartment, and the man inside it, with that shit-eating grin and those breathtaking eyes.

(he’s called you, a couple times. you haven’t been gone for long — an hour or so, you think, maybe two. some part of you wanted to answer, just to hear his voice through the phone, but the part of you that’s still awfully irritated shut that down immediately. so, stubbornly, you just let it ring.)

the streets are empty, and the sky is dark. the light of all the lampposts illuminate your way, along with the soft flicker of the moon and stars. an endless galaxy stretches out before your eyes, little pale dots of stardust shining like jewels.

an ever-lasting, never-changing sky, that continues on for infinity. limitless. all the space you could possibly want, and then some.

for a moment, you can only look at the glittering stars in wonder, soaking in the feeling of absolute solitude.

— it doesn’t last, though.

“you alone?”

a sudden voice calls out from behind you. close, discerningly so, enough to make you flinch. you curse yourself for not noticing anything sooner, caught up in looking at the starry sky, in angling your phone to take a picture of it.

hesitantly, you turn your gaze towards the sound — wincing under your breath when you see the man a couple steps away from you. he looks a little crazed, you think, shifting from foot to foot and hunching over.

oh fuck no.

great, just what you needed. that’s just your luck, isn’t it? your brain can only spin in circles, trying to get your body to react, to run. to do literally anything except just stand there like a deer caught in headlights.

in your nervosity, all you manage is a painfully awkward laugh, as you stutter out a halfhearted response.

“oh — no, i’m just waiting for my boyfriend!” you smile, unconvincingly. your face must be soaked in unease. whatever he wants with you, it can’t be anything good.

at least you said that one word clearly — boyfriend. you can only hope it’s enough to scare him away.

but the man only shifts a little more, emitting a gruff kind of hum, not saying anything else. your spine tingles with apprehension. every cell in your body wants you to leave. he seems a little intoxicated, you think, and the thought only stirs the anxious feeling in your chest further.

god. why does this have to happen to you? why now?

thankfully, you’ve got your phone in hand. as your mind scrambles for solutions, your fingers tap at the screen, urgently scrolling through your contacts. in such a frightened state, your acting must be positively awful, but you make a vague attempt. not like you’re getting any oscars for this, either way.

“sorry — he’s calling me now!” you stammer out, taking a step away from the man. he doesn’t make a move to follow you, so you take your chances and press your phone to your ear, feet carrying you forward with haste.

in your fear, you don’t think twice about calling satoru — but you can’t help but internally wince at the decision, as the anxious patter of your own heart resounds in your ears.

how are you supposed to talk to him, exactly? what are you supposed to say? hey, i know i just told you to go fuck yourself, but will you hear me out? i need your help.

and you do. you do need his help. all you want is for him to swoop in, to take you in his arms, your knight in shining armor.

satoru’s said it to you, before — that if you need anything, anything at all, you can come to him. that you can always, always lean on him, without exception.

you know that he likes helping you. likes it when you open up to him, when you put your trust in him. when you aren’t afraid to ask for his help.

so despite everything, you hold your phone to your ear, walking away with brisk steps and praying that he’s not petty enough to ignore your call like you did to his.

back home, satoru is still resting on the couch, tapping his feet and trying to distract himself.

he’s a little anxious. it’s dark out, and you’re not answering any of his calls. when you’re out of sight, like this, he can’t help but feel a little helpless — worried about everything that could happen to you. but it’s not like he can force you to pick up.

you’re probably at a friend’s house, or something. telling them all about what an asshole your boyfriend is. as much as the thought stings, satoru hopes it’s true; it’s all he can comfort himself with. anything is fine as long as you aren’t out walking alone, in the cold, in the dark.

entirely caught up in his spiralling thoughts, satoru almost flinches when the phone rings. laying on the table in front of him, just within arm’s reach. it only takes a second for him to react as his gaze flits to the bright screen, and he sees the contact name, the many heart emojis littering it.

with a start, satoru jumps up. his back straightens out, and his hand flies to grab the phone — he’d feel embarrassed at his own eagerness, but right now he just can’t help it. even under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn’t let the phone ring more than twice, always giddy to hear your voice whenever possible.

this time, however, he does falter slightly.

he takes a split second to simply stare at the phone in his hand, at the affectionate contact name. what is he supposed to say to you, exactly? how is he supposed to act?

satoru doesn’t know, but as if afraid that you’ll change your mind and stop the call, yourself, he opts to simply answer. he’ll just have to figure out what to say on the fly.

(unfortunately, satoru’s instinctual response to anything is either smugness or playfulness.)

“well, well. look who finally decided to pick up.”

you’re the one who called him, not the other way around — but satoru can’t be bothered with small details like that right now. he only hopes you don’t notice the faint nervosity in his voice, the stiffness as he tries to sound unbothered.

you don’t notice anything at all, mind far too muddled, too clouded by fear. all you can do is take a deep breath, desperately trying to grasp control over your wavering voice.

“— satoru?” you call out, voice meek and frail. the man in question notices it immediately, sitting up a little straighter, but before he can say anything you continue. “i’m sorry, i just — are — are you still at home?”

there’s an anxious tilt to your voice, one that’d be impossible for satoru to miss. your words are a little breathy, spoken in a fast tempo, and he feels a sudden dread crawl up his spine.

something is wrong, his senses alert him.

“yeah,” he hums, trying to hide the turmoil in his own voice. “why? is everything okay?”

the line is quiet, for a second. “it’s just —“ an exhale, as you once again attempt to steer your voice in a less nervous direction. “just… some creepy guy tried to talk to me. i told him i was waiting for my boyfriend and now i’m walking away from him but he’s still following me.” another exhale, as you worriedly sneak a glance over your shoulder. ”i just — i don’t know what to —”

“where are you?”

satoru cuts you off, voice eerily serious. his gaze turned cold the moment he heard creepy guy, legs moving him towards the coat rack by the front door as if on autopilot.

he’s already left the apartment by the time you answer, looking around you meekly.

“i… don’t know,” you sigh. “i’m not far. i walked past that one crêpe stand by the park but then i, like… continued up that street? and now i don’t really know where i’m going.”

you continue, a little exasperated as your gaze flits around the dark street. attempting to recall your steps, a difficult task with how on edge you feel. “i’ll try to look for a sign, or something,” you gulp. “… i’m sorry. i just wanted to get away from him.”

satoru’s voice is comforting, when he speaks, eager to console you. grounding and soft. “hey, it’s okay. i’m heading there now, alright?” he smiles, hoping you’ll hear it in his voice. “i’ll be there before you know it.”

you do hear it, and his words ease a little of the anxiety in your chest, despite your fear. “okay.”

the line grows quiet, again, and your brows furrow in worry. “can — can i keep talking to you?” you ask, uncertain. a little pitiful. ”please?”

“of course,” satoru answers, instantaneous. he’s already making his way towards the crêpe stand with decision in his steps, mentally scanning the area ahead. despite his own anxiety at the situation, he attempts to sound as secure as he can possibly manage, desperate to soothe the worry in your voice.

“try to relax for me, okay? nobody’s gonna hurt you. not while i’m here.”

his words are absolute, as he consoles you. he sounds so sure of himself, so much that you can’t help but believe in his words. so you nod, emitting a weak hum when you remember he can’t see you.

“can you tell me what you see, baby?”

“uhh…” you look around, blindly, trying to find some sort of meaningful hint around you. “there’s like… some toy shop?”

satoru only hums. “can you check your location on your phone?”

you blink.

of course. why on earth didn’t that cross your mind before?

“oh — yeah — fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i didn’t —“ you sigh, heavy. “hold on.”

following satoru’s instructions swiftly, your gaze scans over the screen. he waits, patiently, already heading past the park and up ahead. as soon as you succeed in finding the name of the street, you echo it to him.

satoru sighs, a little relieved. “okay,” he hums. “i’m not that far away. i’ll be there soon.” he only hopes his words can soothe your fear, even a little. “is he still following you?”

you glance behind you, and meet the gaze of the stranger. just like you were afraid of, he’s still following you — if anything, he seems to have gotten a little closer. with a jolt, your heartbeat picks up.

“yeah,” you gulp.

satoru’s chest tightens. he emits a low hum. “just hold on. i’ll hurry.”

focusing only on the tilt of satoru’s voice, you try to calm your breathing. you just want to see him. the thought of doing so is the only thing keeping your trembling ribcage intact, at this point.

you swallow a shaky breath.

“thanks, toru.”

a sudden pang of ache sprouts in satoru’s chest, like thorny vines curling around his ribcage. his heart hurts. you sound so scared, so very small.

this is all his fault, he thinks. all of it. he got too careless; none of this would’ve happened if he had only been more considerate. if he had just stopped you from leaving and apologized, or hadn’t upset you in the first place. then he wouldn’t have to hear that scared little voice, wouldn’t have to imagine your body shaking like a leaf in the cold night. so far away from him.

but satoru can’t beat himself up over it, not yet. there’ll be more than enough time for that later. for now, he needs to get to you — that’s the only thing on his mind.

so he lets his feet carry him forward, running towards your location with bated breath. he’s sure you can hear it, through the phone, even though he tries to contain it.

the sound consoles you, if anything. it reminds you that satoru is there, that he’s on his way. that there’s no need to be scared.

but you can’t help but freak out, a little, when you hear the man call out from behind you.

“hey!” he slurs, stumbling towards you with unsteady steps. his voice is loud, angry, and it sends your mind reeling into panic mode.

a flinch overtakes your body, before you stumble forward, walking even faster than before. you’re almost running now, breath hitching as you gulp. satoru hears it all — your panic, the echo of the man. his own tempo picks up.

“baby, calm down, okay?” he consoles you, voice concerned and honey-sweet. “just keep walking. i’m almost there.”

“sorry —“ you squeak out, between flurry breaths. breathing uneven, laboured and anxious. but you try your best to calm down. “‘s just scary.”

it almost feels physical, the way it irks him. satoru wants to pull you close, more than anything, but he can’t. and that just makes the calamity inside his chest grow, clawing at his ribcage as if trying to escape, to go to your side.

(he never, ever wants to hear that kind of fear in your voice again.)

“i know,” he soothes. “you’re doing good, honey. listen — he’s not gonna touch you. i won’t let him. you have nothing to be scared of.”

you nod, even as you exhale a shaky breath. ”i know.”

and you do. you know there’s a truth, to satoru’s words, one that’s never failed you before.

because satoru is your safe space, at the end of the day — he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and sometimes he’s bad with emotions. but he tries, you know he does. and, more than anything else, you know that he’ll always, always be there when you need him. he’ll always be there to protect you.

and a part of you is sure that everything will be okay, as long as he’s around.

(it’s easy to forget how trustworthy satoru really is, how much he cares. how dependable he is. and how serious he can get, when he truly needs to be, despite his childishness. it’s moments like these that remind you of that.)

but it’s still scary, at the end of the day. you can’t help but feel uncomfortable, a little lost in the world. because you and satoru just fought, you just told him to go fuck himself, and yet here he is. running to your side, in the middle of the night, because you’re scared and alone and you need him.

the man continues to shout, behind you, muttering curses you can’t quite make out. you look over your shoulder nervously, steps hurried.

and satoru runs like a man possessed, through the moonlit streets, gaze scanning the area like a wild beast. his most visceral instinct is screaming at him, tugging at his flesh and bones, desperate to protect you. to comfort you. to wash all your worries away.

as he makes a sharp turn, he momentarily stops the movement, halting to look around. he thinks he must look a little crazed, with the moonlight illuminating his eyes, but he couldn’t care less.

especially not when his gaze lands on a certain person, further down the street — small and alone.

your eyes meet his.

with the darkness of the street, it’s hard to make anything out, but the light of the lamppost helps. though even without it, satoru’s sure he’d know it was you, just from the sensation that unfurls in his chest as his gaze lands on your figure.

an audible sigh of immense relief falls from his lips, and his tense shoulders relax, eyes softening just a tad. he hears a similar noise coming from the phone in his grasp, and he assumes that means you recognize him too. not bothering to end the call, he puts it in his pocket, walking over to you with brisk steps.

you stumble towards him, yourself, the worried crease between your brows now smoothed away. the closer he gets, the faster you move, until you can see the blue of his eyes. two pocket-sized moons.

satoru swoops you in for a hug before either of you can say anything.

he cradles you close, awfully close, so close you can hear his heavy breathing against your ear. it tickles your neck, along with his soft hair, and you shiver. his fragrance envelops your senses, a blend between fresh laundry, strawberries and some expensive cologne. your favorite scent in the world.

and suddenly, the world is devoid of danger. nothing can get to you while satoru’s there. all that exists is you, and him, and the soft flicker of the moon.

satoru squeezes you tightly, ensuring himself over and over again that you’re safe. he might be squeezing you a little too tight, but he can’t bring himself to think about that just yet.

finally, that growing calamity inside his chest is satiated. winding down at the feeling of you pressed up against him, the indisputable proof that you’re okay. with you in his arms, satoru feels like everything is alright, again.

the fear inside his chest, so foreign it leaves him shaken to the very core, finally begins to dissipate too. he doesn’t think there’s anything that makes him feel quite as hopeless as the thought of not being there for you when you need him. he never wants to feel that fear again. it’s suffocating. it crushes his lungs.

all he can do is hold you close, his big palm smoothing down your hair, the back of your head, your spine. warm and comforting. keeping you steady against him. he can feel your heartbeat, rapid and anxious, so fast that his heart aches. satoru is eager to soothe you, eager to make it go away.

”i’m here, baby,” he breathes, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head. ”you’re safe now.”

the words are spoken softly, right by your ear, and you exhale a shaky breath. you’re bundling up his clothing with your fists, anchoring yourself to him. after a little while, you let go, opting to wrap your arms around his midriff instead. nuzzling into his broad chest, you try to blink away your tears and contain your sniffles.

you nod against him, and satoru kisses the crown of your head.

and, finally, his gaze strays. it falls farther down the street, until it lands on a certain man — shifting from one foot to another. watching you both in silence.

the calamity inside his chest rouses from its slumber, once more.

satoru makes sure to keep his hands on you, still rubbing your back with one steady palm cradling the back of your head. keeping your face hidden in his chest, safe and secure.

then he raises his head, back straight, full height on display as his eyes meet the stranger’s. he can tell they do, even with the distance, the darkness of the street.

and satoru knows he looks menacing. he knows the light of the lamppost illuminates his figure perfectly, framing his tall stature and broad shoulders. and he knows the moonlight caressing his skin illuminates his face, his cold eyes — blue and uncanny, glowing even brighter than the moon. staring daggers into the man’s soul. if looks could kill, there wouldn’t even be any remains left to find.

the man stiffens, visibly, and satoru delights in it. he doesn’t leave, though, and for a second satoru wonders if he’s really intoxicated enough to come closer —

but, sure enough, all he does is stagger a little. then he walks away, grumbling under his breath, hands in his pockets.

and satoru isn’t satisfied, with this conclusion. not in the slightest. he wants to run up to the man, wants to hold him up by the throat, wants to tell him off. because he has the nerve to terrorize someone like that, stalk them with intentions he knows can’t be anything but revolting. the nerve to do that to you, of all the people in the world —

satoru doesn’t know if he’s hated anyone quite as much.

and a part of him wants to make him cower. make him fear for his life, just to make sure he never does anything like this again. leave him with a fear so great it’ll linger for as long as he’s alive.

(and a more animalistic side of satoru, one he doesn’t want to acknowledge, wants to do things that are much, much worse.)

— but you come first. without question, and without exception. he refuses to leave you alone, and refuses to make you look at the man for even a second more.

so he’ll focus on you, entirely.

he can tell you’re still shaken up, heartbeat pulsating against him, little flutters of life prickling his skin. there’s a desperation in the way you hug his waist, like he could disappear at any moment. like he’ll slip away if you don’t keep him close. the sight tugs at satoru’s heartstrings.

his first priority is to soothe you, always and forever. so that’s exactly what he does.

satoru smiles. it’s small, in the wake of the situation, but awfully sincere. fingers reaching down to trace over your jaw, he gently urges you to look at him; when you do so, hesitant, he cups your cheek with his palm.

your teary eyes feel like daggers to his heart, an unmistakable proof of his failure. his failure to protect you, to keep you safe and happy. but at the same time, he’s glad, from the bottom of his heart — that you’d let him see you like this. even after everything.

you look very meek, blinking the tears away as you look into his eyes. they’re bright, and comforting. you wonder if he left the shades at home, if he rushed over here so hurriedly that he didn’t think to bring them with him. you’re happy, in any case — the effect they have on you is undeniable.

you can’t bring yourself to look away, consoled by the flickers of white inside his irises, like fluffy clouds in the blue sky. ever-lasting, never-changing.

satoru tilts his head, smile sweet and understanding. ”that was scary, hm?”

his voice is tender, somehow so mature. like he’s some older, wiser being, comforting a scared child. it’s so soothing, so very grounding.

squeezing your eyes shut, you can only bring yourself to nod, as you nuzzle back into his chest.

”you’re okay now, honey,” satoru coos, smoothing down your back as you sniffle. an immense softness seeps through his whisper. ”i’ll always be here to protect you.”

there’s a truth to the statement, heavy and pious. like an oath, a pledge, something for you to believe in unquestioningly. you allow yourself to soak in the words, knowing them to be true.

you’re safe, now. there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. satoru’s here, and he’s hugging you, pressing kisses against your shoulder.

but you just can’t stop crying.

when you speak up, your voice is weak, barely above a whisper. close to breaking apart at the seams. too tired after everything to resist the guilt inside your veins, you sniffle, and part your lips.

”i’m sorry i yelled at you.”

satoru stills.

then, his gaze softens, considerably. he hears himself coo, softly, palm smoothing down the back of your head.

his sweet angel. apologizing to him, when he’s the one who started this whole mess. when you’re still so shaken up. because he let you leave the house angry, because he made you angry in the first place. because he didn’t see how important the discussion was to you.

(“you’re not even listening.”)

yeah. he wasn’t. he didn’t really want to.

an acute sense of shame. an intense guilt. that’s what he’s been trying to push down, all this time. that’s the unnamed something.

it’s hard for him. to be as sincere as you, as open with his feelings and emotions. as mature. because even in a situation like this, you can swallow your pride and frustration, and apologize. even when you aren’t in the wrong. you’re always the bigger person, always the one to give in first, because he’s too stubborn to do so himself.

next time, satoru pledges, he won’t let you. next time he’ll be the one to swallow his pride.

because, yes, being vulnerable and admitting that he was in the wrong makes him feel a little like he’s being skewered alive — but you’re important to him. he loves you. and he wants you to know how much he trusts you, how special you truly are.

if he can show you that, by being a little sincere, a little serious, then any discomfort he feels in the process is a small price to pay.

satoru’s lips meet the crown of your head, as he encircles your smaller frame, arms reaching around your neck to pull you close. he rests his jaw lightly on the top of your head, breathing in your scent. ”you have nothing to apologize for, baby.”

a pause lingers between the words he’s already said and the ones he yearns to say, but can’t seem to pull out from within his throat. it takes effort, to squeeze them out; but every time he replays your own apology in his mind, it gets a little easier. he squeezes you lightly before opening his mouth, as if to give him strenght.

“i’m sorry.”

you blink.

for once, satoru sounds sincere when he apologizes — almost painfully so. bordering on something you think may be nervosity. you try to look up, to catch a glimpse of his expression, but he keeps you hidden in the crook of his neck.

”i was being immature,” he continues, sighing. you don’t know if you’ve ever heard satoru sound so uncomfortable. ”you know how bad i am with this stuff. but i never want to — you know.”

he makes a gesture with one of his hands, as if that will say the words for him.

“— i didn’t mean to upset you. honestly.” satoru inhales the cold air, in hopes it’ll make him more honest. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

you listen. intently, not missing a word, not a single tilt of his voice. it all sounds so genuine, almost foreign on his tongue. satoru seems to be trying to find the right words, grumbling a little under his breath.

he’s cute, like this. kind of awkward, but that only makes him cuter. you nuzzle closer to him, comforted by his very existence.

”… i’ll work on it,” he whispers, at last. “i’ll listen to you. i promise. i really, really will.”

you think satoru’s voice wavers, just a little, when he says his final piece.

“so please don’t cry.”

this time, satoru doesn’t stop you when you attempt to lift your gaze, loosening his arms around you and raising his head from where it rests on top of yours.

your eyes meet. satoru is smiling, weakly. he tilts his head, looking at you with something you could only ever describe as love.

”okay?”

such a lovely smile. so painfully genuine. his eyes are on full display, shining in the dark of the night, like splotches of moonlight. like someone stole the moon down to earth, and carved out little pieces to put in his irises. an ethereal hue.

he’s so gorgeous. hair just a tad messy, tousled from all the running he did to get here. cheeks a little red from the cold. when he smiles, his eyes crinkle. but he looks almost pained.

(he was so, so worried.)

blinking away the tears clinging to your lashes, you simply stare, entirely mesmerized by the sight. satoru’s thumb goes to wipe at your glassy eyes, smoothing away the drops that threaten to fall. you want to engrave his expression into your memory, so you can never forget it. but it’s just a little too much.

so you hide in his chest, once more. the word that falls from your lips is tiny. “okay.”

satoru smiles, kissing the top of your head with a relieved exhale. bathing in your presence, still reeling from his show of vulnerability. he feels a little like he just cut himself open, let you peek inside his ribcage. the night air stings his skin.

but you’re so warm, hugging him tightly, breathing and heartbeat finally relaxed.

(he doesn’t mind it, not if it’s you — having you look inside his chest. if you asked, he’d let you build a shelter there. right between his fourth and fifth ribs.)

now that the words are out of his throat, they don’t burn at all. satoru feels a little silly, for being so scared to say them out loud. he knows you’d never use them against him.

all you do is snuggle closer, as if silently conveying your forgiveness.

you stand there for just a little while longer, wallowing in the tender atmosphere. finally, satoru makes a move to leave, and you begin to walk back home.

“sure you’re okay now, baby?”

you nod, exhaling a flurry breath. it turns into vapour in the cold of the air, drifting up and dissipating in the expanding starry sky. “yeah. thanks for coming so quickly.”

“of course,” satoru only says, choking back a yawn.

your hands are intertwined, and he’s halfheartedly swinging them back and forth. it soothes your anxiety, and satoru’s protective instincts. you know neither of you will slip away, like this.

you shiver a little, subconsciously inching closer to satoru to protect you from the harsh bite of the midnight breeze. he notices, giving you a glance and a tilt of his head. “you cold?”

“just a little,” you mutter, smiling weakly as you look up at him. ”i’m fine.”

satoru huffs. did you really think he’d be dissuaded by such a weak retort? there’s no way he’s letting you walk around all cold and shivering.

so you come to a standstill, as satoru begins to shrug off his coat. he refuses to let go of your hand for even a second, making the process slower than usual — your heart flutters a little, as his fingers curl around yours, delicately.

when he finally gets it off him, he wastes no time in draping it over your shoulders. it’s big on you, warm and soft, shielding you from the chilly air. satoru can’t help but giggle sheepishly, as he always does at the sight — you look so cute.

“c’mon. let’s go home,” he grins, ruffling your hair teasingly.

satoru doesn’t feel cold, not in the slightest, as he holds your hand tightly. just your presence is enough to warm his bones to the marrow.

the silence between you is comforting and soothing, as you continue to walk. hand in hand, admiring the starry sky. you’re both too tired to speak — but satoru does so, anyway.

“i meant it, y’know.” satoru sounds sleepy, but earnest. ”i really will work on it.”

he doesn’t look at you when he says it, yawning softly and stretching his free arm. gaze fixed on the morning star.

“oh.” you pause, squirming a little. sheepish. “thank you. i’m sorry that i — i mean.” a sigh. “i probably overreacted a little.”

satoru shakes his head, waving off your guilt. “nah. you’re right. i never want you to feel like i’m not taking you seriously.”

his gaze meets yours, tentatively. his eyes shine like wedding rings. “you mean a lot to me.”

the sincere words manifest themselves as a heavy pressure to your chest, closing in on your heart as if crushing it. it’s a pleasant sensation, though, overwhelming as it is. you’re a little scared that your knees will buckle if he keeps this up, but even if they do, you wouldn’t want him to stop — satoru’s love is terrifically overwhelming when there’s nothing to hide it, when it’s just love and nothing else.

but you’d never reject it. you’d let it crush you to death with a smile on your face.

all you can do is avert your gaze, afraid that you’ll fall into the blue sea of his eyes if you don’t. heavy thumps of blood resound in your ears as your heart beats, warmth spreading throughout your entire body.

“… you mean a lot to me, too.” you echo, holding his hand just a little tighter. warmth rises to your cheeks. “i just felt really frustrated, i guess. like you were looking down on me. i know you weren’t actually, though.”

satoru chews at the inside of his cheek, almost anxiously. “i know i can be a little much sometimes,” he says, tasting the words on his tongue. “and i appreciate you for putting up with that. i’m sorry i let it go too far. i’ll be more considerate.”

your heart stutters in your chest. you’re not sure what to say — the way he forms his words makes them feel so absolute. and you believe him.

“i’ll be more considerate, too,” you echo, looking down at the pavement. “i shouldn’t have blown up like that.” a pause. you mumble, quietly, a little embarrassed. “i shouldn’t have told you to go fuck yourself.”

satoru breathes out an amused huff, chuckling lightheartedly. his eyes carry a teasing glint when they meet yours. “i probably deserved that. no worries.”

“still,” you pout. satoru giggles.

“we’ll both work on it, then,” he hums, tilting his head to find your gaze. “right?”

you blink. a small smile breaks out across your face. “right.”

satoru swings your hands back and forth, looking awfully happy with himself. you’re proud of him. really.

“oh —“ he says, breaking the sleepy silence once again. “and i’ll stop leaving wrappers around, too.”

this time, you’re the one who huffs out an amused breath. “thank you,” you grin, looking up at him. he thinks the sight is terribly precious.

a yawn leaves your lips, drowsiness sneaking its way into your bloodstream. you’re not sure if it’s due to the dark, or if you’re just a tad exhausted after all the arguing and panicking.

satoru notices, and gets an idea.

“you tired, baby?” he coos, eyes teasing but soft around the edges. “d’you want a piggyback ride?”

when you give him a look, sleepy and kind of exasperated, satoru grins. you huff out an amused breath, just a tad embarrassed, but it only spurs him on.

so he crouches down, one knee meeting the pavement, letting your hand slip from his. you blink, tiredly, at the loss of contact. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s wearing that lovesick, smug little grin of his.

”c’mon. your big, strong boyfriend’ll carry you.”

satoru’s feeling playful, you can tell. that’s usually a bad sign — but you can’t deny that you’re tired. and the prospect of getting carried all the way home is eerily tempting.

your gaze falls on his back, and his broad shoulders. silently, you walk towards him, and wrap your arms around his neck. satoru holds you up by your thighs, and then stands up, jostling you a little; he does so without a hitch, and you’re reminded of how strong he really is. his grip is secure, and you trust him not to drop you, no matter what.

you let out a content sigh, basking in the chill of the midnight air as you nuzzle your cheek against his soft hair. satoru chuckles.

”my sleepy lil’ sweetheart,” he coos, voice a tad raspy. ”lucky thing you’ve got me, huh?”

there’s a softness to his voice, despite the teasing tilt obscuring it. you can only huff out a breath, somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff, and cling to him tighter.

satoru will get you home safe. he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and he can be bad with emotions — but you can always, always trust him on that.

so, with his coat shielding you from the chilly air, and his back warming you up as he carries you back to your apartment, you allow your eyes to flutter shut; enjoying the cozy feeling his presence brings you.

he’ll always be there when you need him.

#NOBODY LOOK AT MEEEEE i was having a gojo moment ok.#i just think hes. the perfect man. a silly goofy princess 98% of the time but when u need him to be there hes so comforting n secure.#i Need him.#also obsessed w the idea of gojo only calling u ’honey’ when hes being particularly sincere like that does smth to me man.#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader

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bokettochild · 3 months

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Just saw the update!

So, first thoughts!

Gremlin Legend and Sky is something I am LIVING for. Sky's little look of approval as he stands between Wars and Legend after that little move is sending me!

(Wild is not impressed)

I also really love that JoJo played with Warriors' cape/scarf being capable of doing that, which is a major risk btw, but I love that we see it's potential now!

Like, Legend's timing is perfect (and I love that this confirms the Legend v. Wars dynamic we all love) especially considering Hyrule was literally talking about the same thing and you'd THINK Captain-War-Hero over here would be more cautious because of it (although the fact this implies Legend doesn't trigger Warriors danger sense is GREAT for the fluff fic writers like me!)

Time and Wars looking like disappointed parents though is brilliant

(Warriors with messy hair is so funny to me, help)

The continued portrayal of Time being too harsh with the boys, all tense after what happened to Twilight, that's great. i'm glad the consequences of past events are following them, it really makes this all feel linear!

I also am ALL HERE for the boys finding their differences! Warriors and Wild both admitting to being new to dungeon crawling and the monsters involved is a great thing we've all been playing with in fics, but making it cannon feels like validation :)

Also, Warriors being defensive of that, and maybe a bit prickly about their judgement, I think it shows a lot of him. he's got his pride,a although he's learned to tame it. He's feeling a bit miffed to realize how different he is, but doesn't want them seeing him as lesser as well (although they never would). I can also hear him using a clipped military sort of tone when speaking here. It's just the way his words are selected and strung together that makes it seem he's being very to the point, direct, and cold in his tone, which really sells the whole difference between a soldier and the "average nobody" that the rest of them were (ironic, since he's trying to act like the difference isn't a big deal but only further accentuates it this way).

Twilight being pleased that Epona is fine and just enjoying a meal made me grin so big though. He's all worried for his girl but she is, quite literally, happy as a horse over there LOL

Also, this bit:

recognition for Sky's right-handedness, my beloved! (JoJo is giving us all the easter eggs!)

The fact that the passage is too small to let them all fight though is a brilliant way of preventing some of our heavy hitters and more skilled heroes from being able to do anything though!

I like how that gives us the chance to see Time one-shot the foe and also gives him the impression that the rest are maybe not skilled enough to do this alone. WE all know they are, but they're a handicap to each other right now, and it's only further cementing in his mind that they're not ready for all this, which will make his overbearing speech and the judgement he casts on them in combat all the more an issue.

I mean, we all know the hero's shade was like that, but JoJo has shown Time acting this way from the start

(Deep Shadows P.2)

(Likelike)

So I guess we're in for more of that now, and most likely someone (probably Legend, as it's usually him, or Wind, who is very aware of judgement from teh rest) is definitely going to have to call him on it soon, maybe in the dungeon. Will that lead to some bonding with Time where he has to admit he cares and worries about them as though they're his own? I hope so!

Anyways, all this to say, we really are seeing how much they struggle to work together, so hopefully this dungoen will teach them all how to do that better, as Time mentioned earlier

(Dawn p.8)

Now, to finish it off!I would like to thank JoJo for giving us so many beautiful shots of Twi this time around. I'll admit it now, he's pretty darn fine <3

That said, I'm loving the Legend content too! i hope we get to see some more starring moments from him going forwards, what with him being the dungeon veteran and all! It's great seeing his childish/playful side these last few updates, but I'm really craving some veteran Legend right now >:)

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #lu warriors #lu twilight #lu time #linked universe update

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chaotic-mystery · 2 months

Text

Call It What You Want

pairing: Joel Miller Jackson era x f!reader

summary: Who knew a storm would push you and Joel exactly where you wanted to be but never thought you’d end up?

content warnings: shocker shocker, Mads wrote fluff for once! There’s a slight mention of arson and your house burning down but ya know, the rest of it is fluff. Nicknames, implied age gap but it’s not specified, storms. NO USE OF Y/N.

authors note: this is almost two months late for the lovely @janaispunk 1500 kisses challenge! I couldn’t find my moodboard unfortunately (it was beautiful) so I had to improvise. I got Joel + cheek kiss. It’s short and sweet 🖤 Jana ilysm. || word count: 1.1k || thank u always to @pedgito for beta reading & @wannab-urs for hyping me up to post despite how far I got derailed from life. Ily ily ily.

Two years. It’s been two years living with Joel Miller in Jackson. It wasn’t what you expected, given the week you moved into the smaller house just up the hill, someone decided to burn it down to get you to leave. It wasn’t really the warm welcome like you were promised. Joel was tasked with housing you until they could rebuild or find you somewhere else to shack up. Given he was Tommy’s brother and Tommy was with Maria, no one dared to even mess with anyone close to the Millers.

It took Joel a mere three months to decide he liked keeping you around, it wasn’t so quiet in the house anymore, and he had someone to share his dinner with because he could never figure out after all these years how to cook for one person. Either way, you both liked each other’s company and you didn’t want to live anywhere else. However, there was a mutual agreement between you two of house rules.

Keep up after yourself, do your work and do as you’re told, and no overnight guests.

Even if you didn’t talk about it, the third rule just kind of happened. It was never your house to get comfortable in and over the years you slowly started to feel more relaxed, but it was never going to be yours.

A nasty storm was rolling in during the middle of the night and knowing storms freak you out, especially living in a house surrounded by trees as tall as buildings, you laid in bed staring at the ceiling, contemplating going into Joel’s room to wake him up. You just wanted to be held again, despite you starting to catch feelings for him. You knew the first night you climbed in his bed for relief of knowing you weren’t alone in the house, this was going to fuck you up. You just wanted to feel someone else there with you, anyone. It just so happened to be Joel who was half asleep but more than willing to let you sleep in his bed as long as you didn’t try anything with him.

With each sunrise, you’d wake up in his arms and his head nuzzled into your neck from behind. Had Joel known what was happening or how you’d wake up tangled in each other, he’d make a big deal about it and not let you come in during the middle of the night anymore. Before he’d open his eyes you’d crawl out of his room to let him think you left hours ago.

A ginormous crack of lightning lights up your bedroom and follows with booms of thunder loud enough to rattle the windows and causes you to jolt up in your bed.

You grab your blanket and run into Joel’s room, skipping the knocking that normally wakes him up. He jumps awake, fear coursing his veins as he looks around the dark room and seeing you standing there from the small flashes of lightning.

“What’s the matter?!” He asks and swings his legs over the side of the bed closest to you.

“There’s a storm and-”

“C’mon, get in here.” He lays back down and lifts the covers up, not aware you had your blanket.

Still, you jump in under them and lay your blanket over the top. He knew you were scared of storms, it was all he needed to know as to why you busted in the way you did. With no second thought, Joel’s arms wrap around your body, pulling you against his chest to console you.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. I’ve gotcha.” He murmurs tiredly as he rubs your back gently to soothe you.

His warm palms smooth over your t-shirt covering your shoulder, almost sucking all the anxiety right out of your body.

“I’ll forgive you for barging in here like that, even if you did scare the shit outta me.” His chin lays right on top of your head, tucking you in closer than you’ve ever been to him. Did he always smell this good and you’re just now realizing?

“I’m sorry, yeah I probably should’ve knocked. I’m sorry.” You try to cover your face in embarrassment but he catches your movements and tugs your arm down, tightening his grip on you as he rocks back and forth trying to get you to laugh.

“No no no, cut it out. I’m just messin with you. C’mon, get some sleep. Long day tomorrow.”

You couldn’t stop staring at the skin on his neck and thinking about how badly you wanted to kiss him. Cuddling with him never went further than what it was because if it did, you’d have to talk about what you two were and that would completely ruin everything.

“But I’m not tired now.”

“Too bad, if you just stop yappin’ you’ll get tired.”

“But-“

His hand comes up gently to your face and squeezes your cheeks together to keep you from finishing your thought. Your adrenaline was pumping as you could feel his face get closer to yours and his breath tickling your skin. A ghost of a kiss was pressed to your cheek, followed by him saying goodnight once more.

Your entire body was on vibrate, hands cemented to your torso where they’ve been since you climbed into his bed. Joel’s hand never left your face as he started to drift off to sleep but his grip loosened.

“Joel.” you whisper

No answer. You shuffle under him and he stirs softly.

“Joel.”

“What's the matter, kid?”

“Why’d you kiss me?”

Bracing yourself for him to kick you out for talking too much, you hold out for an answer and to your surprise, he answers.

“Because I wanted to.” He grumbles and blinks open his eyes, the thunder still rumbling outside.

Biting your lip trying to decide if you should keep going, to give into your temptations and tell him what you’re thinking about.

“What if I want you to kiss me…like…for real? Would you?” You shuffle around as he sits up enough to prop his arm up and hold his head steady in your direction.

“Why would you want that?”

You didn’t know how to answer. Maybe it was the mixed signals you were getting, the looks you’d catch from Joel every time he saw you talking to a guy, or maybe you just really wanted him to kiss you. It had been forever for you too, since someone glittered your skin with delicate kisses and touches from angels and every day that passed, it grew stronger and twined itself with whatever this was with Joel.

“If you’re going to kiss me, I’d rather have a proper one.” You whisper and the flash of lightning lights Joel’s face, exposing the stupid smirk on his face.

What happened that night was going to stay between you two, even if it meant complicating everything.

Thank u for reading! 🖤

#1500 kisses challenge #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us fanfiction #jackson joel miller #give me that old man NEOW #tlou hbo #joel the last of us #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal joel miller

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the-modern-typewriter · 4 months

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Could you write a snippet about a sunshine civilian x terrifying villain?? The civilian doesn’t like “change” the villain but the villain does have a soft spot for them

"Would you like me to get involved?" the villain asked.

The civilian paused, halfway in the middle of doing the dishes. They started again smoothly enough - mind racing through their options.

Involved in what? Oh so innocent. An insult to them both.

How did you find out? Obvious. The villain made it their business to be aware of everything going in their general sphere.

Of course I don't want that. Of course I do.

"You're asking?" the civilian said, finally. "I didn't think your possessive streak would allow you to sit out on my battles."

"You enjoy your independence. I prefer not to upset you further."

The villain stalked across the room, taking a dish from the civilian's hand and beginning the work of drying it. It still caught the civilian off guard; to see them do such mundane things. A dark conqueror did not exchange his throne for a pair of sunny yellow marigolds.

Except, with them.

The civilian exhaled a slow breath.

"There's a limit, of course." The villain's voice was too casual. "If they'd laid hands on you..."

"I don't think any of your followers would be that stupid."

The villain didn't say anything to that, simply taking the next plate. The civilian didn't say anything either for the next few dishes, because dishes were annoying but easy and the villain's world was fascinating but hard.

"I can fight my own battles," the civilian said. "It's not a big deal."

"I know you can. And that's not the point."

The civilian huffed, finally daring a glance at their lover. The villain's gaze was an inferno. Dangerous. Teeming with violence. A carefully controlled fury. The civilian couldn't possibly look away from it.

The villain reached to turn off the hot water tap without breaking eye contact, head tilting a fraction. They raised an eyebrow.

"If you got involved," the civilian said. "They'd never dare so much as insinuate shit about me again. They'd be so polite."

"They'd get on their knees whenever you walked into a room." The villain's voice dropped instantly away from casual to velvet. "They'd ask permission before so much as looking at you. Would you like that?"

"No." Yes. Sometimes.

There was no judgment on the villain's face.

"It's not an impulse I want to indulge," the civilian amended.

"Mm, pity. I'd like seeing everyone on their knees for you. They'd grovel. Beg me for mercy and then beg you, when they realised I was not the one in a position to grant them forgiveness for their sins."

The civilian shivered.

The villain smiled. Their eyes lit up.

"Don't tempt me." The civilian elbowed them, gently, splashing soap suds everywhere. Then they pressed a kiss to the villain's shoulder. Their mouth only felt a little dry. "It would be terrible for my ego. I'd be insufferable. The power would go straight to my head."

The villain laughed and the civilian could finally look away, grinning ruefully to themselves as they shook their head. They turned the water back on and then did some more of the dishes, chest feeling a little lighter than before despite themselves.

"Thank you," the civilian said. "For asking."

"Do you know how you want to deal with the situation?"

"Honestly, I was just going to ignore it. I can handle people making snide comments."

"Boundary setting and discipline is important."

"This is why everyone is scared of you."

"This is also why no one would dare try and bait me in a conversation."

The civilian scrunched up their nose in acknowledgement of the point, glancing at the villain again. "Well, I don't want to sic you on them. As funny as their expressions would be, I'd feel really bad about it in the morning. And I don't want -" The civilian stopped.

"You don't want them to think you'll coming running to my coattails whenever the other kids on the playground are mean to you?"

"...not how I would have said it, but yeah," the civilian muttered, cheeks flushed.

The villain immediately leaned down to press a kiss to the warmed skin, seeming utterly unable to help themselves. The civilian could feel the villain's grin against their skin.

The villain would be delighted if the civilian did that, at least in part. It was the closest they could get to playing the protector, the anti hero.

"For what it's worth," the villain said, against their ear. "I don't care what they think about you."

"Lions rarely care about the inner workings of ants, it's true."

It was the villain's turn to huff. They switched the water off again, wrapping an arm around the civilian and bodily moving them away from the sink. Their lips dipped to kiss the civilian's neck. "Not an ant."

"Obviously, I'm the cutest ant around. No one's disputing that."

"You're my favourite thing," the villain said. They found the civilian's mouth and kissed that too, before straightening. When they looked down the inferno was still there (always there) but back down to its normal level of simmering. "My absolute darling."

"Yeah, yeah."

"So if you change your mind about your enemies screaming, sobbing for your absolution..."

The civilian rolled their eyes, and felt a smile tugging their lips even if they probably should have been horrified. They leaned in to kiss the villain in turn.

"I know who to call."

#civilian x hero #writeblr #villains #creative writing #writing #ficlet #my writing #writing snippet #snippet #fiction #romance #original fiction

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lady-raziel · 5 months

Text

and alright, here's my last (let's hope) and boldest take yet. lots of people have been talking about the level of staff (around 25-ish people) at watcher, and whether downsizing that number could have been a potential avenue of reducing costs before just jumping to a subscription model. at first i was like yeah, i'm not sure that there needs to be 18 people involved in making a lets play. i was in the fucking trenches in the unus annus days and i'm still amazed how markiplier and ethan nestor managed to put out pretty well edited videos every day for a whole year with only a handful of editors and a couple people filming. what unus annus was trying to do and what watcher is trying to do are obviously pretty different, but the point is that you really don't need a whole crew of people to make lots of different types of content and do it well.

i still think there probably doesn't need to be a whole production crew involved with the creation of some of the simpler types of content watcher puts out. however, i don't think the size of the staff is the real problem. in fact, i think the staff of watcher probably should have been larger.

let me explain. if i begrudgingly go to one of my most detested websites (linkedin. *bleeegh*) and look up watcher, i can see that pretty much every person on staff is in a creative role of some sort by their own admission. at first glance, its like, oh, that makes sense. they're making creative products, it's natural that they should all be in creative roles. however, once you think about it for a little longer from a business perspective, that fact is really concerning.

after all, by watcher's own definition, this is a production studio. this is a company. So in this sea of creative roles, who's doing corporate planning? Who's managing finance? Who's doing payroll? Or brand outreach? Or human-freaking-resources??? you can hire outside groups for all this. i'm aware. but those services cost a lot of money to contract too. i'm just finding it concerning that there is pretty much no one on full time staff that is there to at least do some of this stuff. if watcher wants to be a big-boy company, that's fine, but that means you have to pay some people to be part of your company to do the not-fun business stuff like accounting. or resource management.

if they want to be a real company, they should actually have a lot more people on staff to deal with all the non-creative parts of running a company. even if they contract out most of it, you want at least a few people that are your people and don't actually work for someone else. that's how you don't get screwed over or end up in a contract you can't get out of.

which leads me to my last train of thought. like, as i go through the staff of watcher and look at what they do, it really seems like one of the ONLY people who's job it was to look at the business side of things WAS steven lim in his role as CEO. and thinking about that, i'm like god, can you imagine?? here's a guy who just wants to create cool stuff too but as one of the few people who has to think about the realities of Brand and the Business, HE has to be the one to burst the bubble. He as CEO has to say no to people and make decisions to make sure the company survives. In a group of creative people who just want to make things they're interested in, no expense spared, he was probably the guy who had to stay at least a little tethered to reality.

I'm not about to say that steven lim isn't to blame here. everyone involved in making the decisions that have led up to this point is part of this. but shit, it absolutely sucks to have to be the person at the end of the brainstorm session when everyone is coming up with their best ideas and to have to say "guys, i don't think any of these things are possible unless we make some big decisions."

is that what happened at watcher HQ? i don't know. at this point, with radio silence from everyone, speculation is all we've got. but if you follow the thread of a bunch of creatives striking out on their own to make their own business after being burned by their former employer, despite not knowing really how to run a business, and then only hiring fellow creative people and not other people who actually run business things... well, all of this starts to make slightly more sense in WHY none of watcher's actions make sense. everybody wants to stick it to the man and be their own boss with their own business, until it actually comes to the hard parts of doing that. at that point people start to realize, "oh, maybe some of the things that existed at my old job were there for a reason, actually."

all this is why lots of creatives striking out and starting their own businesses don't work in the end. they're thinking about in terms of creative products still, when they really need to be focusing more on the "business" part of the "creative business." it's sad. it sucks. it destroys a lot of good ideas and good people, because one person in every company like that has to be the one who thinks practically. could this have been avoided if watcher had been hiring people all along to manage this business and not just adding people to add to the creative output? maybe. even then it might not have been enough to curb other predictable impulses that led us down this path.

i feel bad for watcher, and i feel bad for the fandom. but i can't help but wonder if this was always the kind of situation we were going to end up in, and we just missed some of the warning signs because ALL of us were thinking, "well, that could never happen to us. we're different. not the Ghoul Boys."

#watcher #watcher tv #two stupidly long thinkpieces in one morning? wow! what a bargain!#just don't ask which of my responsibilities i'm ignoring by typing all this out

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fangirl-dot-com · 6 months

Text

🖤Prologue - My Reputation's Never Been Worse

Ok, so I was in the mood to create something dealing with the news about Logan's car being traded for Alex. So, I thought, why not give Reputations a prologue. Now, this does not happen in 2024. This is set around the 2023 Brazil Grand Prix. Everything in this story is fake. I'm sorry I had to make some of the drivers mean - in no way do I think that they act like this. Yes, they could be nicer to Logan but because I don't know them personally, I have no real thoughts about what they do in their own lives.

All I know is that Logan deserves all the love and my heart hurts for him.

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Saturday, November 4, 2023

“You want to do what?”

James sighed as he hunched over his desk. Logan was in disbelief over the question that he was just asked. Alex sat to his right, chewing on his finger nails.

“It’s just for one race Logan. It’s no big deal.”

Logan’s brows pinched in annoyance. “No big deal? Two races ago, we scored our first double points. I have raced clean, I’ve shown you what I can do.”

“That right now doesn’t matter Logan,” James pushed. “What matters is the team. And we need to keep pushing to get points.”

“Then let me race. Let me prove to you that I can do it.”

Alex coughed, but no one paid attention to him. The Thai’s eyes were pointed at the floor. His silence was deafening. Logan leaned back in his seat.

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

There wasn’t an answer from James, which gave Logan everything he needed to know. How dare they come to a circuit without an extra chassis. How dare they ask Logan to give up his car that he worked so hard to get in the first place. It was ridiculous. And even if Alex managed to score points, it wouldn’t really matter. There were only a few races left.

Logan finally turned to his teammate. “What do you think about this?”

Alex only replied, “I would do what was best for the team.”

A scoff escaped the blonde’s lips.

“So if I had crashed out, and they asked you to give your car to me, what would you say?”

“It wouldn’t matter because they’d never ask me to do that. I’d still drive.”

Logan’s jaw wanted to fall. Did Alex really just say that? The man who had been so confident in Logan. The one who encouraged him after every fault. The person who was supposed to be his teammate.

Logan could only collapse against the back of the chair. In frustration, he threw his hands up.

“Fine. Whatever it take for the team right?” he bit.

“Thank you Logan.”

However, the American was out the door before he could even hear James. He needed some air. As he walked around the paddock, he saw lots of people but thankfully (or sadly) they didn’t pay attention to him. After walking for a bit, he knew where he was automatically going to.

The back of the Mercedes garage.

George, bless his heart, had comforted him once after a particular bad DNF and told him that if he ever needed a place to just sit, he was always welcome there. The tall Briton was always nice to the American. Way nicer than anyone had really treated him.

He sat on the wet-ish grass and pulled out his phone. Time to look like he was actually doing something. Maybe the weather in Madrid was nice, or maybe it was raining back home? The weather app was always his go to.

It only took a matter of moments for the post to go live. His eyes followed the mass amount of comments that poured in. And most of them were not lovely. He wanted to cry, but he knew better.

Footsteps made him aware that someone was coming. He quickly stood up and rounded a corner, putting his back flat against the wall.

It was Alex, George, Lando, and Oscar.

“Great,” he whispered when he realized that there was no way to escape without them seeing. Oh well, eavesdropping was one of his specialties.

“He was not happy,” he heard Alex say. “I don’t blame him.”

Lando scoffed, or well, he thought it was Lando.

“This wouldn’t have happened if he was a better driver.”

Yep, that was Lando.

“Come on, don’t say that.”

Thank you Oscar, Logan wanted to say. Thank you for standing up for me.

“Mate, you were just saying yesterday about how he really isn’t fit for F1. You said that he should have stuck with Indy Car or something.”

Ouch.

Logan wanted to throw up.

“Shit, I was really mean to him in there. I should have said something.” That was Alex again.

Logan could practically hear Lando roll his eyes. For some reason, George has stayed eerily quiet.

“Alex, it’s his own fault. I’m just saying everything that everyone is thinking. I’m the only one who is brave enough to say it. Logan Sergeant has no business being in Formula 1.”

Oscar stuttered out, “That’s enough Lando.”

“Right sorry, forgot you two were close.”

Come on Oscar.

“Not that close. He exaggerates a bit. To be honest, I just felt bad for him. He kind of stuck to me and I just let him.”

Oh.

Alex sighed. “He wanted to prove something so much. But there’s really no need.”

“No need?” Logan whispered to himself.

“James isn’t extending his contract. Williams is going with whoever wins this year’s Formula 2 championship.”

There was silence for a bit. Logan took the time to reign in his breaths that were quickly getting faster and faster. He did not need to have a panic attack here and now.

“We have to go, Andrea is texting me.”

“I’ll go with. My engineers have to look over Logan’s car to change some things.”

He heard footsteps start to walk away. The lone Williams driver let out a deep sigh and sank to the ground. His head was automatically in his hands as he finally let his tears shed. What he didn’t see was a 6-foot Briton walking his way.

The blonde gasped when he felt a food nudge his. His head shot up and was faced with George.

“Oh hey. Didn’t see you coming.”

“I know you were listening.”

Red flushed Logan’s face as the idea of being caught.

“It’s not eavesdropping if everyone talks so loudly.”

George sighed. “I’m not mad Logan. I’m worried for you.”

A scoff escaped from Logan.

“You’d be the first.”

George felt his heart drop at the sentence.

“I try and try, and no matter what I do, it’s never good enough.”

“Mate, you can’t get anywhere in a Williams. Did you even see my rookie year? It was bloody awful.”

Logan looked back down. “But you’re now in Mercedes. You won the Formula 2 championship. I wasn’t even runner up or third place. Williams is all I have, er, well, had I guess.”

“I’m truly sorry Logan.”

“Sure.”

George started to walk away, knowing that trying to convince the American that he was good enough was a lost cause. Logan waited until the Briton left before standing up to make his way back to the garage.

He could feel the eyes on him now as he made the journey back to Williams. His eyes caught George standing with Lewis, Max, and Charles. They looked sad as they watched him walk.

Whatever, Logan did want or need their pity.

The American kept on walking, only stopping to ask for a car to take him back to his hotel. Man, did he wish Benny were here. It would make everything so much better. His phone had been blowing up with so many notifications. Multiple messages from his friends back home, along with his parents, had been nothing less than supportive.

However, one message caught his eye as he was going through the long list. He was surprised, but there was a warm, fuzzy feeling at the sight of your name. He knew that you were also having a hard time adjusting to everything. Except for the fact that you had won a race for Arrow a few weeks prior. Hell, he was even at your celebration party. But he remembered the looks on your team’s faces as you celebrated.

One good word would be jealousy.

And it wasn’t just your team: it was everyone.

He sent you a quick text saying that he’d call you when he got back to his room. A fast “I’ll be waiting” brought the warm feelings back.

He quickly walked through the hotel doors and into the elevator. It was going to be so nice when he could change into his sweatpants and t-shirt.

Logan mulled over the entire thing as he showered.

He could have stayed home in Florida. He wasn’t needed here anyway. He could be in his childhood room, in his own comfy bed instead of the stuffy hotel room that he knew was smaller than the one that Alex got. He had seen the Thai’s pictures from Instagram and their rooms did not look the same.

He quickly glanced in the mirror, just to see if his hair looked fine. He was thinking of growing it out, but hesitated to. He didn’t want to be made fun of even more than he already was. With a jump into the bed, he was ready.

He sent you a quick text, only to be met with the FaceTime screen ready. He rolled his eyes, you had always been so impatient to talk to people. When he pressed the green button, he was met with a big smile and an oh so familiar and safe face.

“Hi Logan.”

How he missed your voice. You were always so soft spoken, but could yell at people if you needed to. He had been on the wrong side of your yell one too many times. But, he could listen to you for hours if he could.

“Hello? Earth to Logan?”

He quickly shook his head.

“Hi Y/n,” he murmured, laying his head on his bicep as he just looked into the camera. You had a sad smile as you looked at the blonde.

You could see his eyebags and his pale completion through the small screen. His red eyes signified that he probably cried when he took his shower (you knew because his hair was still soaked).

You cleared your voice. “How are you holding up?”

Logan’s shoulders only raised before dropping back down.

“I’ve been better.”

“Of course you have.”

“Overheard that I’m not going to be resigned for next year.”

A gasp echoed through the room before you sighed. Your hand ran through your hair. When you and Logan were little, people always mistook you for twins or very close siblings. That always annoyed you because you claimed that Logan was your boyfriend, not your brother. The moms and dads would just laugh.

Looking back, you always wished you cherished those moments more than you had. The “relationship” only lasted for three days or until you saw Logan give Jessica his extra fruit roll up instead of you. After that, you claimed that you could only be his best friend since he didn’t love you as much as you loved him. You were over it as soon as you gave Michael your extra fruit roll up.

You looked down at your fingers in your lap and bit your lip.

“What are you thinking about?”

You sighed again. “If it helps, I’m not getting resigned either.”

Logan’s eyes widened as he scoffed.

“That’s ridiculous. You have given them 1 out of their 2 wins this season.”

“And Logan, you scored points as the first American in like 30 years. Nothing in motorsports is ever fair.”

Logan leaned back, but kept his face visible.

“Remember when we were kids? And we always said that we would make it to our dreams together?”

A quiet hum sounded from his phone.

“Have we made it yet?”

Silence was his answer.

“I don’t think we have.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Logan, is driving in a Williams really your dream?”

The male thought for a moment. Did he accomplish his dream of getting and making it to Formula 1? To the outside world, yes, yes he did. He drove for an F1 team. He ‘made it’ even if it wasn’t the best. But is it really making it if you finished 21st in a 22 driver line up?

No, that was not making it. That was barely getting by.

“I guess my dream was just to show everyone that I could do it. That I’d be good at it. But, now I haven’t done that.”

“Then why have you given up?”

“Because everyone wants me to. No one has ever liked me for me.”

“I do.”

Logan inhaled sharply. He finally turned his head to see you looking right at him through the screen. He felt a tear run down his face.

When had that gotten there?

“Logan, listen to me.”

A hum from him made you laugh. You guessed that’s what you were going to get out of him.

“You have the talent, Williams saw that. They just couldn’t give you a car to maximize your potential. And who cares if no one likes you. You don’t have to make them like you, but at the same time you do. You can’t be green-eyed lady whisperer Charles Leclerc or World Champion Max Verstappen.”

He rolled his eyes. “Wow, thanks Y/n.”

Your giggles filled the air. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Yeah, yeah, please continue about Charles’s green eyes.”

“Dude I could write a whole biography on his eyes alone. But I don’t want to. I’d rather write a whole novel about yours.”

What was that supposed to mean?

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say Logan, is that you have to believe in yourself and show them that they need to like you because you are you. Say it with me please? Like you’re talking to a hater. ‘You must like me for me’.”

Logan whispered back, trying to believe his words.

“You must like me for me.”

He shot up from the bed as soon as he said the words.

“Isn’t that a Taylor Swift lyric?”

His eyes narrowed at you through the phone. You only smirked back at him.

“Quite possibly. Now, you are going to go to bed, sleep so well, and then keep smiling. Show them that they haven’t destroyed your spirit just yet.”

Logan put his head on a pillow.

“Oh, so they are going to destroy my spirit at some point.”

“Yep!,” you popped the ‘p,’ “but not right now. That can come later.”

He smiled dopily at you.

“You’re the best you know? I know that I say that Oscar is my best friend, but it’s actually you.”

A whine-like noise came from your throat.

“You’re my best friend too. I’ll see you in a couple of months ok? Still have to beat Dalton at football this summer.”

“You say that every year!”

“Ok and?”

“Goodnight Y/n.”

“Night Logan. Sweet dreams.”

You hung up the phone, leaving Logan alone in his little hotel apartment. He thought about what you had said. What’s the point in trying to make them believe in him anyway. They were going to throw him away like trash soon.

But you were also right. He didn’t need to prove anything to anyone. He just needed to show them what he could do, and they could feel bad about it later.

Logan set his alarms for the morning and got under the covers.

He’d show them.

His reputation has never been worse, so what’s a bit of fun until the end?

logansargeant has posted

logansargeant if I didn't have a day job, I'd spend every moment listening to you, come visit me soon - your best friend

liked by georgerussell63, williamsracing, racer.y/n, and 493,206 others

logiebear oooooo girl in the pictures - have something to tell us mr. American 🤨

lolo2024 what they did to him this weekend was unfair

sargeant2 this was my first Grand Prix and I came from Spain just to watch him! I'm so sad that now I won't get to... :(

logansargeant hey! sorry about that - let me know what you're wearing and I'll try to find you, thank you for the support 💙

sargeant2 OH MY GOSH

racer.y/n I'll see you soon ok! sorry, my day job is also taking up all my time 🧡 *liked by logansargeant*

indyxf1 HELLO Y/N L/N??

log4_ever who is she?

indyxf1 so she like grew up grew up with Logan and she currently races for McLaren Arrow (their IndyCar entry) - she's won half of their races (1/2)

sarg4president they don't deserve you Logan!

loscar_812 I thought Oscar was your best friend hmmmm??

logan&y/n uhhhh haven't you seen that Oscar has been drifting since he's gotten closer with Lando??

loscar_812 oh. yeah. :(

billsracing and I thought williams was different - not them creeping in the likes 🙄

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jaeyunverse · 1 year

Text

the 24-hour dating challenge

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

genres: fluff, crack, mutual pining, suggestive, best friends to lovers, influencer au

wc: 8145

warnings: profanity, hoon is a loser and down bad sawry, you can’t see the mutual pining but that’s a skill issue on my part bc i swear it’s there, fic is completely from sunghoon’s pov, this was supposed to be short and sweet but it got kinda spicy towards the end LMAOAO but nothing happens so dw!!

summary: being a famous youtuber isn’t easy, especially when you have to constantly come up with new ideas to keep your audience entertained. and this time, your viewers want you to date park sunghoon, your best friend of nearly a decade, for the entirety of 24 hours.

moodboard: one ☆ two

note: omg i didn’t think i would struggle w this oneshot but i lowkey did w the last part ☹️ i think it’s bc it has been a while since i raw dogged a fic HAHDHS anyway i hope the end doesn’t seem super abrupt and y’all enjoy! i would love to hear your thoughts + feedback :’)

inspiration: evelyn and fred (♡)

masterlist

“Your followers want me to do what?”

Sunghoon was positive he’d misheard you. However, part of him hoped you’d confirm the life-altering information you’d casually uttered without even bothering to look away from the TV screen.

“Hoon!” you exclaimed, your fingers aggressively moving about the gaming console. “Oh, my God, they’re coming after me! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK—” you screeched— “Nonononono I can’t take them by myself! You testicle-guzzling cocksucker, why did you die when I needed you the most?!”

Sunghoon watched you struggle warily. Your leg was bouncing with anxiety and your eyes were bulging out of their sockets. He wasn’t entirely sure you were breathing. Beads of sweat were clinging to your forehead, and your face was scrunched up in a weird, constipated expression.

There was a good chance you’d utter fouler insults if he disturbed you while playing, but he couldn’t stop himself from broaching the subject. “Are we just going to pretend you didn’t say the thing you just said?”

“The thing about you being a testicle-guzzling cocksucker?” you gritted. “No.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “The thing about your followers wanting us to date for a video.”

For a few moments, you didn’t deign to acknowledge him. Then, as if a switch inside you had flipped, you pulled the TV’s plug and turned to face him. “Would it be weird?”

Wow. Okay, Sunghoon mused. I think it would be a fantastic idea and a dream come true, but I don’t trust myself around you. Even as a mere friend.

However, instead of voicing his thoughts, the boy simply shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve been friends for several years now. I’m a regular on your YouTube channel and I think your fans are aware of the dynamics of our relationship. What do they mean when they say they want us to date? Physical intimacy aside, we already do everything couples do.”

“I think they want us to be romantic,” you admitted. “Go on a date, hold hands, cross some lines.”

“Cross some lines?” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lip curling in a smirk. “Is this you speaking or your subscribers?”

Groaning in exasperation, you shoved his shoulder. He fell back on the couch, laughing. “Shut up, dickface! You know I’ve been swamped this semester. My influencer gig has been seriously lacking. I need to step up—do what they want me to do. Besides, we only have to be girlfriend and boyfriend for 24 hours. It’s really not that big a deal. Are you in or not?”

Sunghoon took a few seconds to mull over your words. Sure, he would love to be your boyfriend for 24 hours. As long as his fantasies were brought to reality, he didn’t care if the whole relationship was fake and short-lived.

For far too long, he’d pined after you. He thought he was doing an excellent job at hiding his feelings, but then you decided to make vlogs for fun. That’s when shit actually went downhill.

Within a few years, you’d amassed a following of over 5 million on YouTube and 3 million on Instagram. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say you’d become somewhat of a local celebrity.

Being one of your closest friends, Sunghoon was often featured in your videos. Initially, he’d baulked at the idea of being filmed, but you’d worked your magic on him. The boy soon found himself being comfortable around cameras.

Even though Sunghoon never started his own YouTube channel, his popularity grew along with yours. His Instagram had garnered over two million followers, and courtesy of his good looks and attractive physique, he’d been offered a bunch of brand deals too.

You’d scowled at how far Sunghoon’s pretty privilege had gotten him. While you busted your ass coming up with unique ideas and editing your videos to perfection, all he needed to do was show up.

What you didn’t know, though, was that part of the reason he’d become a heartthrob among the youth was you.

You might have been dumb and blind, but your followers certainly were not. They’d realised how Sunghoon looked at you—his eyes always twinkled and a fond smile automatically adorned his lips whenever he caught sight of you.

To add to that, your fans had pointed out habits he didn’t even know he possessed. For example: idly braiding your strands; bringing you snacks whenever he swung by your apartment; saying hey, sunshine and giving you a side hug by way of greeting; disguising his compliments as insults.

The list was embarrassingly long.

They’d noticed the elastic he kept around his wrist at all times too—it was one of the two you’d used to tie his hair into little ponytails because you were convinced you could transform him into Boo from Monsters, Inc.

Sunghoon himself had forgotten the reason he wore the elastic around his wrist. All he knew was that it was yours and it felt right. But when he read the comments obsessing about it, he rushed to watch the video your fans were referring to.

And damn, they were right.

Sunghoon didn’t know if you’d seen the comments your fans regularly left on your various social media pages. You’d never mentioned anything about the community calling you “couple goals,” and he was too much of a coward to inquire if you were aware.

It was infuriating to know how transparent he was. Sunghoon wished he’d never gotten used to the camera and let slip his true self.

Perhaps this was the cost of gaining the boyfriend material label—his unrequited feelings exposed for the entire world to see.

Sunghoon would never admit it, but he’d spent the better part of a day reporting everyone who’d shipped him with you. The entire incident had truly made him go off the rails.

However, today’s revelation was unexpected. It was an opportunity. A chance to experience something he’d desired for many years. Suddenly, he found himself thanking those busybodies online instead of cussing them out for being ridiculously invested in his love life.

Sunghoon knew saying yes to your proposition would bite him in the ass later on. He knew he’d crave more of you once he got a taste of being your boyfriend, and giving this fake relationship a shot would definitely make it harder for him to get over you in the future. He knew he was a massive idiot for willingly indulging in impending heartbreak, but he could always cross that bridge when he came to it.

“Okay,” he said, meeting your gaze. “I’m in.”

There was a small chance Sunghoon was getting ahead of himself. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken it upon himself to organise the perfect date.

Being bitchless his entire life wasn’t doing him any favours in performing the task. Originally, he’d figured he would do a quick Google search and plan a day according to the results shown.

Unfortunately, most activities on the list were things the two of you already did on a normal basis. He’d racked his brain to think of a unique idea after scrolling through the internet for hours on end and coming up empty-handed.

Karaoke? Check. Restaurant hopping? Psh, you did that every weekend. Rock climbing? He was scared of heights. Bowling? Boring. Concert? None of your favourite artists were in town. Clubbing? He would rather spend quality time with you than get both of you wasted. Arcade? Basic and low-budget; he didn’t want to be cheap. Road-trip? Needed more than just 24 hours.

Sunghoon wondered if he was the problem. He’d shot down every option he’d come across so far by classifying it as not good enough. His stress levels were skyrocketing trying to make your 24-hour relationship perfect.

An entire day’s research had ended up being fruitless. You’d decided to go through with the challenge on Sunday, so he only had tomorrow to come up with something satisfactory.

Sighing, Sunghoon rubbed his eyes and closed his laptop. He eyed his phone on the bedside table for a few seconds, contemplating whether he should just call you and ask if you had anything in mind.

Before he could rethink his choice, he picked up the device and dialled you.

“Hey.” Your voice on the other end was deep and hoarse. A glance at the wall clock informed Sunghoon it was past midnight, and he’d likely woken you up. Guilt twisted his stomach. “Is something wrong?”

“Sorry, I didn’t realise it was late,” he mumbled. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Nah, it’s alright. I was watching a movie and passed out halfway through it. I needed to finish it anyway.”

Lying back on his bed, Sunghoon inquired, “Ready or not?”

“Yeah.” You huffed a laugh. “I finally got around to seeing it. Your choice, as always, is impeccable.”

Though you couldn’t see him, he raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just say you dozed off in the middle of it?”

“Well, yeah, but that’s because I’m not a stupid nocturnal with no care for their sleep cycle and health.”

“Ouch.” Sunghoon clutched his chest. He could practically hear you roll your eyes. “No need to be so harsh.”

You hummed absent-mindedly, a yawn escaping your lips. “Was there a reason you hit me up, or can I get back to the movie?”

“Oh, yeah.” Sunghoon cleared his throat. “Do you have any suggestions for the challenge? I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but I haven’t come up with anything interesting.”

“Not really. I tried researching a bit, and there isn’t much we don’t already do. I’m starting to wonder if the only difference between a platonic and romantic relationship is physical intimacy. I’m sure we can reach a consensus though,” you added.

Sunghoon groaned. “This is proving to be more difficult than I—”

“WAIT!” you interrupted him with an exclaim. “How about a picnic date? We’ve been talking about going on one with the rest of our friends for ages, but it’s never worked out. Let’s go—just the two of us. We can choose outfits for each other too! I’ll order you something online, and you do the same for me. We can spend the rest of our day doing whatever you want.”

Sunghoon’s eyes widened. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“Right?” you giggled. “Maybe we can spread a blanket in the park under a tree and have a nice brunch. I’ll organise it!”

“I’ll take care of dinner and plan another activity for us to do between the two meals.” He grinned. “Looks like we might actually be able to pull this off, Y/N.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited to film a video,” you admitted.

Sunghoon’s heart fluttered, and his lips widened into a smile. “Me too.”

Everything was set. You’d received the dress Sunghoon had ordered for you, and he’d taken delivery of the one you’d bought for him.

Upon opening the package, Sunghoon was surprised to see you’d accidentally ended up matching outfits. While he’d chosen a white summer dress with blue flowers for you, you’d picked out a white graphic tee and low-rise, faded blue, baggy jeans for him.

The fit was minimal—something that he would have purchased if he’d seen it in a mall.

Grabbing a pair of sunglasses and running a hand through his messy hair, Sunghoon made a beeline for his car. He shot you a quick text regarding his ETA before backing the vehicle out of his driveway.

[hoon]: omw be there in 10

[y/n]: okie i’ll wait for u. call me when ur outside!!!!!!!!!

Averting his gaze to the road again, Sunghoon took a deep breath. He’d finally planned the perfect day out. It took a lot of effort and coordination on his part, but the several favours he had to call in were worth it.

He’d probably gone over the top, especially considering the fact that this wasn’t even real, but he was determined not to half-ass anything. He had one chance, and he’d damn well make sure he didn’t waste it.

Turning the corner of your house, Sunghoon dialled your number. “I’m here.”

“Coming,” you popped, the sound of your footsteps descending the stairs audible through the call.

He grabbed the bouquet of flowers from the backseat, got rid of his sunglasses and exited the car. Your door opened a few seconds later, and Sunghoon’s world slipped from under his feet.

God, you were beautiful. So beautiful and so fucking pretty in the dress he’d chosen for you. The material fit you perfectly—it accentuated your upper body and was flowy from your lower waist. The dress was almost ankle-length with a side slit that began at your upper thigh. Your shoulders and collar bones were exposed, a gold pendant filling the empty space the deep square neckline left in its wake.

Your left shoulder was carrying a tote bag, and your right hand was holding a large picnic basket. Much to Sunghoon’s surprise, your free hand was wrapped around a bouquet too.

Snapping himself out of his reverie, he took the basket from you and placed it inside the car. “You look amazing, sunshine,” he breathed. “Just—wow.”

Giggling, you did a little twirl for him. “Thanks! I love what you’ve done with your hair. It makes you more attractive.”

Sunghoon mock-saluted and bowed dramatically, a chuckle escaping his lips. “Took me ten minutes to style it.” Glancing at the flowers in your hand, he asked, “You got me flowers?”

Maybe his eyesight was faulty, but Sunghoon felt your entire demeanour suddenly change. Tucking a stray strand behind your ear, you averted your gaze from his and shyly mumbled, “You took it upon yourself to plan the majority of the day. The least I could do was gift you some flowers.”

Right when Sunghoon thought he couldn’t love you any more than he already did, you went ahead and did this. He’d never received flowers in his life before, and the gesture meant everything to him.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he took the bouquet from you. “Thank you,” he said, voice heavy with gratitude. “Don’t kill me, but I don’t know the name of these flowers.”

Laughing, you pinched his cheek. “They’re asters.”

“What do they mean?”

“Why don’t you search it up when you go home?” you quipped. “Let me know once you find out.”

Sunghoon shrugged and handed you the flowers he’d bought for you. “Sunflowers for my sunshine.”

A wide grin broke across your lips. “They’re my favourite!”

“I know, dummy,” he said, flicking your forehead and opening the passenger’s door for you. “That’s why I got them for you.”

“Be nice!” you complained as he walked around the car. Taking a seat beside you, he started the engine and began driving. “I’m your girlfriend!”

“I just opened the door for you,” Sunghoon pointed out, promptly ignoring the way his heart rate picked up. “I think I’m being gentlemanly enough.”

“That’s not a word.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“This is why you get no bitches.”

“I got you.”

“Are you calling me a bitch?”

“I’m calling you mine.”

Snorting, you said, “Not your best save, Park.”

Biting down the smile threatening to break across his lips, Sunghoon said, “I’ll survive, but you should really start recording.”

“Right,” you gasped, your eyes widening. Fetching the DSLR from your tote bag and switching it on, you placed it on the dashboard carefully. After ensuring that the camera was rolling, you began, “I’m in the car with Sunghoon right now. He just picked me up, but I lowkey forgot to record it.”

“Y/N was too busy gawking at me,” Sunghoon teased and raised an eyebrow at the lens. “I’m too attractive for my own good.”

“Nobody’s buying your bullshit.” You rolled your eyes. “But if you do think he looks cute, it’s because I chose his outfit.”

“And if you think she looks beautiful, that’s because I chose her outfit.”

You nodded. “He did. We thought kicking off the challenge this way would be cool. Clothes were ordered by both of us individually, which means neither of us had any idea what had been chosen by the other until we met ten minutes ago. Crazy how we still ended up matching.”

“We exchanged flowers too. Y/N got me asters, and I got her sunflowers.”

“Hoon has no idea what asters signify,” you commented and nudged him with your elbow. “He didn’t even know the flowers I gifted him were asters.”

“Don’t shame me for not being a nerd!” Sunghoon defended himself. “Only you can be the kind of person who reads The Language of Flowers and indulges in floriography because they’re bored.”

“Aaaand the worst boyfriend award goes to this guy sitting right next to me,” you announced, shooting him a nasty glare. “He’s been annoying me from the moment he came to pick me up.”

“I opened the door for you!”

“How long are you going to milk the one gentlemanly thing you did?”

Sunghoon scoffed in disbelief. “I thought gentlemanly wasn’t a word.”

“I lied,” you popped and grinned cheekily.

“The problem with this relationship is you, woman, not me.”

Laughing, you turned to the camera again. “We’re going on multiple dates today. I’ve organised a picnic brunch, and Hoon has organised dinner.”

“It’s a surprise,” Sunghoon explained. “But I can assure you that it’s going to be the coolest thing ever.”

You hummed in agreement. “I believe him. He always gives the best surprises. Anyway, I’m going to stop recording now, and I’ll see you guys once we reach the park. I think we’re almost there.”

“Five minutes,” Sunghoon provided.

You grabbed the DSLR and brought it close to your face. Cupping your hand over the lens as if you were telling it a secret, you whispered, “T-minus five minutes to the best picnic date ever. Bye!”

Despite it being June and most kids being on vacation, the park wasn’t crowded.

Even though it was almost 10:30 and the sun was merciless, there were plenty of people jogging on the track. Sunghoon spotted a laughter club in session a few hundred metres away from where you’d laid your blanket under the tree.

Thanks to the clear sky and blowing wind, more than a few people had taken out their own picnic baskets and decided to enjoy the weather. A bunch of middle-schoolers were playing basketball about fifty metres away from your tree, and though Sunghoon would have appreciated the peace, it was fun to watch them run around on the court.

You’d set up the camera immediately upon arrival. Even though it was still rolling, neither of you were aware of it. It lay forgotten to the side, and as far as Sunghoon was concerned, it was just the two of you.

“It’s a beautiful day,” you mumbled, gathering your strands and tying them up in a messy bun. “Really fucking hot though.”

“You have some relief, at least,” Sunghoon said, pointing at your exposed shoulders and flowing dress. “I’m fully covered and positively dying in here.”

You smiled sheepishly. “Oops. That’s my bad.”

Laughing, Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair. “What did you get for us to eat in that basket of yours?” he asked. “It was pretty heavy.”

“Nothing much,” you answered and dragged the basket closer to you. Opening the lid, you pulled out Tupperware containing watermelons, muskmelons and mango slices. You’d also prepared a heart-shaped pizza and baked half a dozen macarons. Finally, you fetched a bottle filled with peach-iced tea and a pair of champagne glasses.

Sunghoon gaped at the assortment of food you’d arranged. “Did you make everything by yourself?”

“I wish,” you snorted. “Mom made the macarons and delivered them via FedEx. I don’t have the patience to bake.”

“Okay, but this is still crazy,” Sunghoon said, amazement evident in his tone. “The amount of effort you’ve put in is insane.”

Blushing, you shoved his shoulder. “Stop! You’re embarrassing me!”

“I’m complimenting you!” he exclaimed, and served himself a piece of the pizza. “Bringing homemade food is the best thing you could’ve done. And God, this is delicious. I’m going to wife you right now.”

You laughed incredulously. “Slow down, Romeo. We just started dating. How about you show me a good time first?”

This. This was exactly the reason why Sunghoon didn’t entirely hate being stuck in the friend zone. Because no matter how much you told people you were just friends and there was nothing going on between the two of you, you were constantly flirting.

The only reason he was afraid of confessing his feelings was that he didn’t know much of the flirting was real. It was the dynamic of your friendship—neither of you thought it was weird making suggestive comments. You were too comfortable with each other to let such things bother you.

Sunghoon could no longer tell whether your relationship was still platonic. He was too hopelessly in love with you to keep knowing the difference between a joke and genuineness. His heart surged every time you said something only a romantic partner would, and his heart shattered every time he reminded himself that you didn’t actually mean it.

You never meant it.

But Sunghoon was a selfish person. He was going to take what he could get. He would rather be unintentionally strung along than give these moments up. The minuscule part of him that hated you for the pain you were causing him was nothing compared to the part of him that loved you unconditionally.

Forcing himself out of his reverie, Sunghoon raised an eyebrow at you. “In front of everyone?”

“You’re so gross!” you snickered, your eyes shining with mischief. “I obviously mean when we get home!”

I’m going to kill myself, Sunghoon thought. I’m going to kill myself before she kills me.

The two of you had finished eating almost thirty minutes ago. Now, you were just lying on the blanket and staring at the sky, having conversations about the most random topics.

You were talking shit about some know-it-all guy in your physics class, but Sunghoon wasn’t really paying any attention to what you were saying.

He was still stuck on what had happened an hour ago when you’d urged him to feed you because “that was what couples did.”

Sunghoon didn’t give a shit what couples did. His biggest problem at the moment was his mind replaying the incident like a broken record. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d already known he was being an idiot by agreeing to come on this date, but he never thought he’d regret his decision this quickly.

“Are you okay?”

Blinking, Sunghoon spared you a glance. “Peachy.”

“Those kids over there are calling us,” you told him, pointing to the basketball court. “We should go see what they want.”

Nodding, he pulled himself to his feet and gave you a hand. Leaving the DSLR under the tree wouldn’t have been safe, so you grabbed it and the two of you made your way to the children waiting for you.

“Hey,” a perky boy greeted you enthusiastically. “I’m Hyun. We’ve been playing basketball for the past several hours. The team that wins 6 out of 11 matches has to treat the other team to ice cream. Unfortunately, 2 of our friends left, and now it’s just the 6 of us divided into 2 teams. We really don’t want to play half-court, but we can’t play full-court with a team of only 3 each. Do you guys want to play the last few matches with us? One match only lasts 15 minutes.”

Sunghoon exchanged a look with you. Then, you glanced at your spot under the tree. Lastly, you checked out your outfit—the slit exposing most of your leg and the lack of coverage for your shoulders.

“I have a pair of shorts and a shirt in my car,” he informed you.

You took a moment to weigh your options. Honestly, playing in the open when the sun was out to torture everyone didn’t sound appealing. There was also the issue of you needing to switch outfits, and you didn’t know if you wanted to take the effort of changing inside Sunghoon’s car.

But kids had always been your weak spot and the little rascals were staring you down with their puppy eyes.

You sighed. “Fine. We’re in.”

“I haven’t played in a while,” Sunghoon admitted. “I think it’s been over 6 months.”

“I haven’t played since varsity girls either,” you said. The kids had left to take a break a few minutes ago and the court was empty save for the two of you.

You’d changed into his clothes, but the shirt was too long for you. So, you’d requested him to tie the extra into a knot at the back. Thankfully, the shorts could be tightened at the waist with lace.

Sunghoon could get used to you wearing his wardrobe.

He idly dribbled the ball the kids had given to him for safekeeping while you stretched your stiff muscles. “Then I guess we get to evaluate whose skills have become more rusty.”

“Free shots?” you asked, eyes alight with a competitive fire and a smirk tugging at your lips. “We can test our aim and get a feel of the baskets on this court. It would be a good warm-up exercise.”

Sunghoon poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Bring your camera here. Record me from up close. I’m going to go for a layup.”

“Wow,” you scoffed but did as you were told nonetheless. Before stepping onto the court, you’d filmed Sunghoon and yourself, explaining that you were about to play basketball with a bunch of kids. Naturally, you’d decided not to record the match in order to respect the privacy of the children. “Don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourself? I’m telling you right now that I won’t care if you miss the shot. I will use it to humiliate you in the video.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes.

You switched on the DSLR and pointed the lens at him. “We’re doing free shots till the kids come back from their break,” you said. “Hoon’s convinced he can land a layup even though he hasn’t touched a ball for several months.”

“Don’t condescend me,” Sunghoon grumbled as he walked to the 3-pointer line. “It’s not like I’ve completely forgotten how to play. I’m pretty sure I can nail a simple shot.”

“We’ll see.”

“You know what,” he called. “I’m going to dedicate this layup to you so that when I make it, you’ll know not to doubt my athletic prowess.”

All you did was raise an eyebrow.

“This one’s for you, babe!” Sunghoon announced and began running. The ball was a number 6—smaller than the size 7 he was used to. The grip was worn due to excessive use, but he still had complete control over it.

However, he misjudged the distance from the hoop. He realised a second too late that he’d taken the first step of the layup later than he was supposed to.

The ball collided against the rim and rebounded.

“Air ball!” you hollered and zoomed into Sunghoon’s face. “Athletic prowess found to be missing! What a shame!”

His cheeks, along with the tips of his ears, were red with embarrassment. He couldn’t even bring himself to look into the camera after making such a big fool out of himself.

“I am begging you, Y/N. Can we please edit that part out?”

“I’m kicking your ass, Park.”

“I suggest you take the over-confidence down a notch.”

You smirked, dribbling the basketball in place. Sunghoon was blocking the way to your side of the court, and each of the kids on your team had a man on them. Playing in the sun for so long must have tired them out because no one was making an effort to get rid of the shield standing in front of them.

The last match was a 1v1 at this point.

“I’m not in the habit of lying,” you said, and dribbled the ball from between his legs.

Sunghoon cursed under his breath and chased after you, but you were speeding away from him faster than he could keep up. The layup was clean and effortless. You barely broke a sweat.

“SUCK IT!” you screamed. “Your team is going down!”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. He watched your team—Hyun, Chul and Dae—do the victory dance you’d taught them. It was hilarious because none of you had any coordination. The arm wave move made it seem as though all of you were having a seizure.

“We still have fifteen seconds of the match left,” he pointed out, and pat Iseul’s back in reassurance. “Don’t go celebrating just yet.”

“You’re four points behind. Just admit defeat,” Dae said. “We’ve won!”

“We’re not surrendering,” Hajoon said angrily. “Sunghoon will make sure we win.”

“Boys!” you interrupted loudly. “Let’s finish the championship sportingly. We’re playing for fun.”

Chul muttered something under his breath that Sunghoon and you chose to ignore.

“Seojoon,” Sunghoon called quietly. “Now that we have possession of the ball, I need you to pass it to me from below. Then I need Hajoon and Iseul to gang up on Y/N. Don’t push or shove; just keep her away. The worst thing we can do is commit a foul. The rest of the boys won’t be a problem, but I’ll need Seojoon to act as my shield in case they try to take the ball from me. Do not let anyone come near me under any circumstances. I’m going to go for a 5-pointer.”

The trio audibly gasped.

Iseul nervously asked, “Are you sure you can score?”

“Not without the three of you helping me out.” Sunghoon nodded. “Y/N is quick and slippery. Keep your eye on her. We’ll lose if she gets possession of the ball. I’ll take care of the rest.”

The boys let out a sound of agreement and dispersed, taking their respective positions.

Sunghoon searched for you, and when your gazes met, he made a gesture of slitting his throat. This time, you rolled your eyes and dismissed him without a word.

“Let’s start,” you announced with a clap and got into position. He noticed you were standing away from the basket. The rest of your team was too. It dawned on Sunghoon that you’d positioned everyone in a way that would prevent them from committing a foul which would grant his team free throws.

It was smart and reasonable of you to think that way. Sunghoon wasn’t known for landing 5-pointers. Heck, he never even attempted them. He usually went for layups and 3-pointers.

Focusing on the game, he took a deep breath. Seojoon passed the ball at him as soon as you yelled Go!

Sunghoon dribbled to your side of the court immediately. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you hesitate, but your mouth parted in realisation the second you caught onto what he was doing.

“Stay on her!” he yelled at Iseul and Hajoon. “Don’t let her go.”

Sunghoon dodged the rest of your teammates. Seojoon wasn’t doing a good job at keeping them away, but he didn’t have enough time to dwell on it. He could do this by himself as long as you were out of the picture.

Sunghoon eyed the basket and bent at his knees, gathering enough momentum to jump. He’d been hitting the gym more often, and he hoped to God his hard work wouldn’t fail him at such a crucial time.

Exhaling once, Sunghoon jumped and let the ball fly across the court. The moment the ball was out of his hands, you crashed into him, knocking him to the ground and falling on top of him.

“Ow,” he muttered, his arm wrapping itself around your waist on instinct. “That’s foul play.”

Before you could bite back, Sunghoon heard someone scream, “No way! Sunghoon did it!”

Sunghoon grinned and craned his neck to look at his teammates. A laugh tumbled past his lips when he saw them doing the floss dance and playfully teasing the losing team.

The sound of your groan made him avert his attention to you. You’d raised your head to find out whether Sunghoon had made the basket, and upon realising that you’d lost the match, you let it fall on his chest again. “Man,” you grumbled in defeat.

“Aw,” Sunghoon teased. “It happens to the best of us.”

“Who asked?”

Snorting, Sunghoon loosened his grip around your waist. Rolling off him, you laid down on your back in the middle of the court next to him. “Am I supposed to buy you ice cream now?”

He checked his watch before answering, “Nah. Let’s go home and freshen up. It’s almost time for my date.”

“The beach,” you marvelled. Both of you were standing on a cliff overlooking the expanse of sand and water. “I should have guessed.”

Sunghoon agreed. It shouldn’t have been hard to pinpoint the venue of the date once he’d requested you to wear shorts and sandals. However, your obliviousness had worked in his favour.

The entire thing was supposed to be a surprise. It was supposed to sweep you off your feet.

He averted his attention from the ocean to find that you were already staring at him. A soft smile was adorning your face, and with the breeze ruffling your unbound hair, you looked nothing short of a fairy tale.

“Do you remember the last time we came here?” you inquired, and returned your gaze to the view again. Sunghoon didn’t bother to take his eyes off you—he couldn’t take his eyes off you. The reflection of the sunset in your irises was too intoxicating. “Jay, Jake, Yizhuo and Isa were with us. We spent the entire night talking around a bonfire. I couldn’t keep myself awake once the clock struck two. You tucked me close and let me rest my head on the space between your shoulder and neck. You kissed my forehead and promised me you’d wake me up in a few hours.”

Sunghoon didn’t say anything. He only kept staring at the image of the sunset in your eyes—the way the ocean consumed the ball of fire the same way his love for you consumed his very being.

Love shouldn’t hurt this much, he thought. It shouldn’t be this painful.

“I remember the way you smelt,” you continued. “Like vanilla and sandalwood. I remember wanting to pull you closer because you also smelt like home. I hated moving to a new city for college. I missed our hometown. I missed life being simpler. I missed the old times. But those brief moments before I fell asleep reminded me that not everything had changed. The clumsy boy I’d met in kindergarten was still with me. Sure, he was a bigger pain in my ass than he had been when we were kids, but he hadn’t left my side even once. And I knew he wouldn’t for a long time.”

“You’ve been the only constant in my life, Sunghoon,” you mumbled and turned your body towards his. Snaking your arms around his waist, you pulled him into a hug. “Thank you for being a good friend to me. I love you.”

And though Sunghoon knew you didn’t mean it the way he wished you did, he returned your embrace and confessed, “I love you too.”

“What the fuck?” you whispered and let go of Sunghoon’s hand to jog ahead. “WHAT THE FUCK? IS THAT A CANDLELIGHT DINNER?”

Laughing in amusement, he pocketed his hands and watched you freak out. The beach was usually crowded at this hour, but he’d asked Jake—the surfer of their group—if there was anywhere he could spend the evening undisturbed.

“Your eyes do not deceive you,” he joked as he approached you. “I know it’s kind of corny, but this was the most romantic date setting I could think of.”

“Corny?” you exclaimed incredulously. “This is amazing!” Nudging him with your elbow, you teased, “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“You would have known a lot more if you’d asked me out before,” Sunghoon smirked, a suggestive undertone to his comment. “But I suppose we can make do with what we have now.”

You snorted. “You’re insufferable.” Then added, “I don’t want to shoot us having dinner here. Maybe I’ll just film the date set-up and our outfits, but I think I want this evening to remain between us only.”

“Oh.” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure, that works for me. Do you want me to get your camera?”

The next five minutes were spent recording the date he had organised. The food was prepared by Jay, whose chef father had taught him a thing or two before the boy moved to the city for college. Sunghoon had dragged Yizhuo and Isa with him to shop for decor.

They’d bought a soft blanket which was now spread on the sand. He’d also purchased six couch pillows to make the setting cosier. Fairy lights covered the perimeter of the throw.

The coffee table Sunghoon had stolen from himself and brought to the beach was filled with all kinds of your favourite food, a scented candle burning in the centre of it.

Since he’d known he couldn’t escape you to set up everything that he’d planned, he’d begged his friends to do it for him. Obviously, they’d teased him about it on their group chat, but he’d ignored them the way he always did.

“I have another surprise,” Sunghoon popped as the two of you settled down on opposite sides of the table. “I don’t know if you’re going to be up for it though.”

“Is it the wine?” you asked, eyeing the corked bottle partially hidden under one of the pillows. “Because I saw it long back, and I am all for getting drunk.”

Sunghoon chuckled. “Nah, it’s not the wine, but yeah, we’re getting drunk. There’s absolutely no doubt about it. But,” he continued, “I’d been going through Pinterest to search for date ideas when I called you in the middle of your movie a few nights ago. After our talk, I remembered you’d made this board with Karina when you were a thirteen-year-old.”

You gasped and reached over the table to smack his arm. “You stalked my Pinterest?! That is so uncool! There’s tons of embarrassing shit on there! I should have privated those boards when I had the chance,” you muttered to yourself.

“Then I wouldn’t have rented a projector for us to watch a movie after we finish dinner.” Sunghoon grinned cheekily. “We are not watching some sappy romcom though,” he warned. “Soap2Day came in clutch so we can watch Suzume or Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 3. Your choice.”

Your mouth parted in surprise. For a few moments, you didn’t say anything. With a raised eyebrow, Sunghoon watched you struggle to form the words. “Okay, I know it was creepy to stalk you on Pinterest—”

“NO!” you blurted, your eyes widening. “It’s not creepy! I just—No one has ever done anything of this sort for me. I don’t know what to say except… thank you.”

Before he could reply, you buried your face in your hands, and muttered, “Gosh, I sound so ungrateful, but I really do appreciate it. More than I can express.” Raising your head, you looked straight into his eyes. “I have this extremely strong urge to kiss you right now. Would it be fine with you if I acted on it?”

Sunghoon stopped breathing. His smile dropped, and his heart skipped a beat. The entire world could have crumbled, and he would have remained frozen in place, trying to make sense of what you’d just said.

“W—what?” he croaked.

You broke off the eye contact and dropped your gaze to the ground. “Sorry. That was stupid of me—”

“Yes,” Sunghoon breathed. “Yes, it would be fine with me.”

You exhaled, appearing visibly relieved, and that somehow made him feel better about the sharp turn the evening had taken. Of course, he was thrilled you wanted to kiss him, but part of him couldn’t help but wonder if you’d regretted voicing your thoughts.

Licking your lips, you unfolded your legs and scooted away from the table. Instead of standing up, you got on your knees and made your way towards him.

Sunghoon also moved away from the table to make space for you, and once you reached him, you swung your legs on either side of him. Straddling his lap, you towered over him.

Snaking your arms around his shoulder, you glanced at his mouth.

Even though it was driving Sunghoon out of his mind to not close the distance between your lips, he let you take your time. You traced your thumb across his lower lip and then shifted your hand to the back of his neck.

Weaving your fingers through his hair, you let your eyes flutter shut and lowered your mouth over his.

Sunghoon’s entire universe exploded into shards of molten light. A tidal wave of emotions crashed into him, setting his nerves on fire and making fireworks explode inside his chest.

The boy couldn’t have kissed you back any faster. Tilting his head to the side, he pulled you closer by the nape.

Settling in his lap, you tugged at his hair, the nails of your other hand digging into his shoulder.

A groan slipped past Sunghoon’s lips. God, he’d coveted the taste of you for so long, and now that he was finally kissing you, he realised he’d never estimated the magnitude of his love for you accurately before.

Because this… this was everything. Sunghoon felt on top of the world, and pure euphoria was coursing through his veins. He couldn’t get enough of you. A single kiss would never be enough to satiate him. The floodgates were thrown open, and the thought of this being a one-time, impulsive thing made his gut twist painfully.

He knew he needed to tell you. Right here, right now, he needed to tell you the truth.

“Y/N.” Sunghoon gasped, breaking the kiss. He was leaning back now, his weight resting on his left elbow. The desperation and urgency with which you’d come onto him had been more than he could handle. “I need to tell you something.”

Your eyes remained glued to his lips and there was a tinge of disappointment on your face. As if you didn’t want to stop. As if you wanted to keep going.

With a jolt, it dawned on him that you probably wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

The epiphany alone was enough for Sunghoon to consider ditching his plan of confessing his feelings and instead close the distance between your mouths again. But, he steeled his nerves and pushed himself into a sitting position.

He didn’t bother asking you to get up from his lap nor did he bother removing his left hand from your waist. If this confession went sideways, he’d end up losing you anyway.

“What is it?” you whispered, your disappointed expression giving way to concern and nervousness. “Did I go too far? I’m sorry—”

“Stop,” Sunghoon ground out. “Please stop. Let me speak.”

You pursed your lips, but he could tell you were scared shitless. There was fear in your eyes, and he hated making you feel as though you’d done something wrong when you’d given him the one thing he’d wanted more than anything else.

“I…” Sunghoon started, forcing himself to find the courage to say the words. “Y/N, I love you.”

There it was. He’d done it. The cat was out of the bag, and all he could do now was wait with bated breath.

Your mouth parted open, but no sound came out of it. Your face was unreadable. It was void of any emotion. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Sunghoon tore his gaze from yours and let out a humourless laugh. “Right. That’s okay—”

But then he felt your hands grabbing his jaw, making him pin his attention on you again.

There was pure, unadulterated joy on your countenance, a wide smile adorning your lips. “I love you too,” you breathed. “Oh, my God, Sunghoon, I love you too.”

Sunghoon blinked. “What?” he mumbled, his mouth set in a pout due to your squishing his cheeks.

You leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his puckered lips. “I love you too,” you repeated.

Gripping your hands, Sunghoon removed them from his face and stared up at you in bewilderment. “You’re serious?”

“Hasn’t it been obvious to you?”

“Hasn’t it been obvious to you?” he shot back. “I’ve loved you since high school.”

You snorted. “So have I.”

“Sophomore year.”

“Same.”

“I knew right after the homecoming ball.”

“Sucker!” you exclaimed. “I knew right after the game!”

Sunghoon frowned. “It’s not a competition, Y/N,” he said, and then added, “But if it were, I would win. The amount of effort I’ve put into hiding my feelings is insane.”

“Sure,” you drawled. “That’s why all my followers keep saying it’s clear you’re in love with me.”

The tips of his ears turned red in embarrassment. “You saw the comments?”

“Of course I did,” you answered, your voice soft. “I just never believed them. The notion never seemed possible. Isn’t it crazy how it was real this entire time?”

Sunghoon chuckled. “We’re idiots.”

“We are,” you said, smiling at him in affection. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have ever said anything about what I truly felt if you hadn’t found the courage to confess to me.”

“I know, I know,” you defended and rolled your eyes when he gave you a pointed look. “I did ask if I could kiss you. Trust me, I was more surprised than you were. Heck, I was fully prepared to play it off by spouting some bullshit in case you said no. What you did for me, Sunghoon… I couldn’t keep the urge inside me anymore. I didn’t care about the consequences. I didn’t care that there would be no turning back—I knew I had to take the risk. And I’m glad that I did.”

Sunghoon’s heart swelled with joy. “Me too.”

“Wait,” you said quickly. “How’d you know you were in love with me?”

Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, he answered, “While we were dancing at homecoming. You didn’t have a single move in you, but you didn’t wanna be the only one not dancing, so you started doing what you’d learnt in Zumba. It was hilarious—watching you be clueless but still killing it on the dance floor. It made me proud of you, but more than that, it made me realise what I felt for you.”

“Aw,” you cooed. “That’s really sweet of you, but I definitely knew what I was doing.”

“Let’s not ruin the moment by lying to each other.”

“You’re such a dork!”

“It’s your turn now!” Sunghoon grinned. “Tell me!”

“Okay, but you have to promise not to judge me,” you warned. “My story is embarrassing.”

Locking his pinkie with yours, he promised, “I won’t.”

“Remember how you sat with Yeojin at the game?” you asked, to which Sunghoon nodded. “Well, I’d been saving seats for us. I fought a lot of people to keep the seat next to me vacant, but you didn’t even acknowledge me when I called your name. Yeojin caught hold of you, and you went to sit with her without bothering to check if I was around.” Shrugging, you mumbled, “That made me mad and jealous and upset. Not just at her, but at both of you. I’d never been possessive over my friends, and I’d never felt such ugly emotions before. There was only one reasonable explanation.”

Sunghoon’s eyebrows flew up. “Woah. I’m sorry for what I did.”

“Nah, it’s cool. It was loud at the game and I don’t think you heard me.” You laughed and waved him away. “I was being petty. And I know it’s not cute like your story, but that was what made me realise there was a chance I loved you.”

“Cute or not, that was the best story I’ve ever heard,” he said cheekily. “Also, don’t get me wrong—I would love nothing more than have you sit in my lap, but I think we should finish dinner first. Let’s finish what you started once we’re done eating.”

Your eyes widened, and you scrambled away from him. “Right.”

“Wait!” Sunghoon grabbed your wrist before you could get up and go back to the other side of the table. “The asters—what do they signify?”

You smiled and leaned closer to his face, pressing the gentlest of kisses to his cheek.

“Love.”

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months

Note

AITA for putting a hit out on an ex friend’s dnd character?

A few years ago I [M 18] was the link between two different online friend circles along with my longtime friend A [M 22]. Essentially, both A and I ran two different dnd campaigns that acted as a melting pot between our two friend groups. It was really fun, super casual stuff. Enter C [M 19], who was originally one of my friends and played in both groups. Over time it became clear that C was, to put it lightly, not a great person. At the time, I was a really new DM and struggled a lot with my self confidence. C was a super disruptive player in my group, going off the rails and generally trying to undermine both me and other players. I tried to sort it out between sessions, but it didn’t end up working out. It came to a head where I ended up shutting down my campaign, claiming school got to be too much, but in reality I just couldn’t deal with C’s behaviour. It was a really big blow to my self confidence at the time.

At this point a lot of people had been cutting out C for various other things like this - generally being disrespectful and callous, not taking responsibility for harm he caused, etc. Pretty soon the only times I was interacting with C directly was during A’s campaign.

A, who wasn’t 100% aware of the situation, came and talked to me after a session one day about why I’d shut down my campaign, and I told him everything about how I was feeling. He was really understanding, and said that he got the feeling that I probably didn’t want C around anymore, and neither did he. I agreed, so A offered to ‘sort out some stuff with C’s character’ and shuffle him out of the group. I made a joke about wanting C’s character to die, in a pretty flippant way, and the conversation diverted.

This is where things get kind of weird.

So, at the time, I was expecting A to just talk with C and kick him out of the group in between sessions, but that didn’t end up happening. C was at the next session just as planned, and continued to show up for several weeks. During this time A, and I really don’t know how else to describe this, pulled some Machiavellian scheme on C’s character as the DM to ruin his life. A wove in this story where C’s character got this evil mask shard of a dead god, and played on C’s want to sabotage other players & go his own way in a very ‘lone rogue’ way to isolate him from the group and get him involved in all these evil deeds (killing minor npcs, etc). None of our characters knew about this in character, but A dropped all these hints and the context lined up to make it seem like C’s character was slowly going insane. C, unable to communicate in or out of character, backed up this idea by refusing to talk about the god IC or OOC. Eventually this god fragment lead to the death of C’s character when an overpowered assassin struck him down, in a fight that felt very ‘well this could’ve been a party boss but because you didn’t tell anyone, you died’. Immediately following this the party found out about C’s character’s evil deeds, meaning he wouldn’t be mourned by the party. The whole death felt so… hollow. It really felt like C had ended up in this situation because of their own hubris. But they hadn’t.

A had masterminded the whole thing. He’d given me live updates about his plan to essentially manufacture a situation where C’s character died a miserable death that felt totally deserved in the eyes of the other party members. And then we all just blocked C anyway???

I’ve never seen someone manipulate somebody like that in my life before and I’ve never seen anything like it again. I’ve never told anyone else in the group that the death was masterminded by A because of my petty grudge about my failed campaign. I don’t speak to either A or C now but I still feel bad about not doing something. Should I have just told A to kick C way before this?? I had no clue it would spiral into actual months of chess mastering his demise!!

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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kikyoupdates · 22 days

Text

Otherworldly Attraction ⭑˚🔮⭑ 𝑏𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝

yandere!jjk x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.

prologue | story masterlist | next

Itadori helps you to your feet, and you can’t help but stare at your hand, at the way that it’s tightly grasping his. Even now, it still feels like a dream. You’re actually holding Itadori Yuji’s hand, like it’s no big deal.

Honestly, it’s almost impossible not to fangirl.

But perhaps it’s a good thing that your nose is bleeding right now (not really), because it prevents you from making a total fool of yourself, and so, with great reluctance, you let go of Itadori’s hand and start walking.

“Man, I’m really sorry about this,” Itadori apologizes again, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I feel awful. I should have been more aware of my surroundings. I know apologizing doesn’t actually help much, but I’m seriously sorry, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you!”

Yes, your nose hurts like a bitch, but being kicked with that soccer ball allowed you to meet him, so in the grand scheme of things, you’re not complaining.

Still, there’s a lot of blood, so you definitely need to see the school nurse.

It’s actually for the best that Itadori is walking with you and guiding you along, his hand resting gently against your back in case you sway unsteadily and trip over your own feet. Without him, you wouldn’t have a damn clue where you’re going. It’s the first time you’ve ever stepped foot in this school, after all. Based on what those girls said earlier, it sounds like you’re a recent transfer student or something…? That’s a rather convenient plot device. Although this whole situation is so ridiculous that you would expect nothing less, really.

“Just a bit further,” Itadori encourages. He offers you a bright smile, and you have to squint through your eyes, because he may as well the sun. His protagonist status couldn’t be any more obvious.

Eventually, you arrive at the infirmary, and Itadori promptly slides the door open and pokes his head into the room.

“Um, excuse me? Miss nurse? There’s a student here who got hurt pretty badly, and she needs help.”

There’s no response. You follow him and step inside the room. Sure enough, it’s empty, so you can only assume the nurse isn’t here right now. She’s off doing god-knows what. Seriously, what is it with school nurses and never being around to do their jobs?

“Uh-oh,” you say, a few droplets of blood slipping through the cracks of your fingers and splattering onto the floor. “I don’t feel so good…”

You’re hit by a sudden wave of dizziness, and Itadori catches you in his arms before you can fall onto the floor. Maybe you should have taken him up on his offer to carry you earlier. You already know from watching the anime how abnormally strong he is. He lifts you up as if you’re weightless, then gently places you down on one of the beds.

“Uh, crap,” Itadori mumbles, brows pulling together in concern. “I’m not that good with this kind of stuff, but for now… just lie down, okay? I’ll get you some tissues.”

You watch him scurry around the room, nearly knocking things over in the process, but he returns to your bedside before long, offering you a needlessly large pile of tissues.

…actually, considering how bad your nosebleed is, those tissues still might not be enough.

“Thanks,” you say, shifting onto your side so that you can face him. You grab a few tissues and press them to your poor, aching nose.

What a terrible first impression. Here you are, having finally met one of your favorite characters of all time, with blood gushing down your face. It’s incredibly unflattering, you have to admit. Most people would probably think it’s pretty gross. You’re lucky that Itadori is the nicest, friendliest person ever.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes for the millionth time. The poor guy looks guilty beyond belief. It’s not his fault that he’s got superhuman strength. He can blame the author of Jujutsu Kaisen for that.

“Don’t worry about it,” you wave off, still holding the tissues close to your nose, so your voice comes out a bit muffled. “Accidents happen. I’ll live.”

“But still! You look like you’re really suffering, and I just—” He stops to sigh. “Anyways, it’s my bad. I can’t change what happened. I just wish I knew a better way to help.”

“Seriously, I’m okay,” you insist. “I don’t want you to keep beating yourself up over it. Um… earlier, I heard someone say your name. Itadori, right? I’m [Name].”

You obviously already know his name. You know even more about him than he does, to be honest. You know what the future holds in store for him, and how soon, his life will change forevermore.

“It’s nice to meet you, [Name].” Itadori chuckles weakly, hanging his head in defeat. “If only we’d met on better terms. After today, I swear I’m never playing soccer ever again. I’m going on strike! Even if those guys keep pestering me to play with them, it won’t happen!”

“There’s really no need to go that far. I promise I’ll be fine.” Hesitantly, you pull the tissues away from your nose. It seems like the bleeding has mostly stopped. “See? I’m already getting better. This is no biggie.”

“Damn. You’re really tough,” Itadori marvels. “Most people wouldn’t be as calm as you. It’s badass!”

No, I’m just too busy fangirling over you right now.

You obviously keep your thoughts to yourself, but it’s impossible to fully suppress the smile that keeps rising to your lips. None of this makes any sense, and truthfully, you can’t help but wonder what happened in the real world—the world you’re from. You wonder about how your parents and friends are reacting to your disappearance, or if you’ve even disappeared at all. Maybe this is some sort of alternate reality. Maybe you’re living within both worlds, simultaneously, without even realizing it.

Ugh. It’s probably best not to think too hard about it. This whole thing is way too trippy.

"The nurse still isn’t here,” Itadori remarks. “I guess it is lunchtime. Well, either way, I’ll stay and wait with you until she’s back.”

“I appreciate it,” you smile.

Obviously, the canon plot of Jujutsu Kaisen has yet to kick off, because this is just an ordinary high school, which means he hasn’t met Fushiguro or Gojo at this point. It also means that he’s incapable of seeing curses. But for some reason, you are.

You were able to see that weird insect-like curse from before, when no one else could. That means that you must at least have an above-average amount of cursed energy, right? The curse also ran away when you approached it. Maybe that’s why? Because it sensed that you were aware of it?

Who knows, really. But you suppose it’s a good thing that you’re able to perceive curses. There are some exceptionally dangerous ones out there, and you feel much more at ease knowing that you won’t be completely blind to them.

For a little while, you just stare at Itadori. You make a point of studying all his features, the same features you’ve only ever been able to glimpse across a screen, or while flipping through the pages of a manga. It’s so surreal that you’re able to hold a conversation with him like this. It’s strange—but also exhilarating—to see him looking your way and to know that the smile on his face is directed towards you.

But… all that being said, you know what kind of world Jujutsu Kaisen is. You know how incredibly dangerous the plot will become, and how your life can easily be put at risk. Every fan dreams of being able to interact with their favorite characters, but just because you’re now living in a fictional world, it doesn’t mean you have a death wish.

You won’t be able to spend much time with Itadori. Soon, he’ll go off to Jujutsu High, and you’ll probably never see him again. There’s no guarantee that you’ll even talk after this. The only reason you met was because of some fortunate accident that granted you the rare opportunity to speak to him. He’s a popular guy, after all. There are plenty of other people he’ll be spending his time with.

Still, it was nice while it lasted. You should be content with just getting to meet him at all. You should be grateful for an opportunity that normally wouldn’t exist.

“Oh, there she is,” Itadori perks up. It seems like the nurse has just returned, and he stands up and hastily bows to her. “I’m so sorry! I accidentally kicked [Name] in the face with a soccer ball, and she got really hurt because of me! Please take a look at her to make sure she’s okay!”

“You did what?” the nurse blinks, and she hurriedly glances over at you to find you flashing her a thumbs-up, with a wad of bloody tissues pressed to your nose. A heavy sigh falls from her lips. “Oh, good grief.”

“It looks worse than it is,” you reassure.

“Let me be the judge of that, please. You should run along and enjoy what’s left of your lunchtime,” she tells Itadori. “Thank you for bringing her. I’ll take care of it, so don’t worry.”

Itadori frowns. “I hope she’ll be alright. Is there anything at all I can help with? I’ll stay behind if you need me to, just so I can—”

“Everything will be fine,” the nurse insists, unscrewing a jar filled with cotton balls. “Classes will be starting soon, so just let me handle this. Alright?”

“Yeah. Alright. I’m sure you know best.” Itadori looks back at you once more. He smiles in a way that conveys how bad he still feels. “I’ll get going now, [Name]. Again, I’m really sorry for what happened. I hope you feel better soon.”

He leaves moments later, and you exhale softly. This was a remarkably coincidental meeting. The two of you hardly know each other, and you doubt another opportunity like this will arise. It was destined to be a one-time thing. That’s what you instinctively believe.

But of course, you’re wrong.

“[Name], hey! Good morning!”

You blink repeatedly. It’s a brand-new day, and you’re back at school again. Yesterday you went home to find that your parents in this world look exactly like your real parents, except, well, they’re not. They act like them, too. Mostly, at least. In a way, it’s reassuring to have them around, but since they aren’t as bewildered as you are by this new world, you can tell they haven’t been isekai’d. They’re just kind of here. Like placeholders, or something.

Anyways, nothing out of the ordinary happened last night. You had the same kind of interactions with your parents as you normally would. You know better than to question all the semantics, so you’re just going to go with the flow and make the most of this situation.

But right now, you’re rightfully taken aback, because Itadori is grinning ear-to-ear while he waves to you.

“Um, hey,” you reply, blinking yet again. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” Itadori keeps smiling. “By the way, how are you feeling today? I heard you went home yesterday after lunch to get some rest, but the nurse told me your nose wasn’t broken or anything, which is a relief.”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” you nod. “Apparently it’s not uncommon to get a nosebleed after getting hit in the face. It doesn’t always mean it’s broken. So, I don’t need to go to the hospital to get it realigned or anything. Which is good, because I was really dreading that. I heard it hurts like a bitch.”

“I’m sure it does,” Itadori laughs. He stops himself, though, looking very sheepish all of a sudden. “But, uh… seriously, I’m really sorry about what happened. I feel like I shouldn’t be joking around after what I did to you.”

Aw. What a cutie.

He’s a sweetheart, no doubt about it. You wish you could express how much you’re grateful just for the opportunity to even talk to him, but if you tell him the truth, he’ll definitely think you’re crazy. And so will everyone else.

“Don’t stress about it,” you smile. “There’s just a bit of swelling and slight bruising. I’ll be good as new in no time.”

Itadori beams at you. “You’re so nice, [Name]! Thanks so much for not holding this against me. I’ll try to figure out a way to make it up to you in the meantime.”

You keep trying to reassure him that there’s really no need, but he seems determined to right his wrongs. Together, you walk into the school building, quickly lock up some of your belongings, then you head to the classrooms.

“This is my class,” you say, stopping in front of one of the rooms. Yesterday you skimmed through some of your relevant school documentation, like your student ID, enrollment papers, etcetera. You’re a new transfer student, so thankfully, there were a bunch of papers lying around at home for you to consult.

Itadori tilts his head to the side. “Weird. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you. I stop by here pretty often. A few of my friends are in this class.”

“I just transferred in recently, so that’s probably why.”

“Oh, right. I think I remember hearing that we got a new transfer student. Are you liking it so far? I mean, apart from getting kicked with a soccer ball, obviously.”

You chuckle softly. “It’s been… good. Um, yeah. I have no complaints.”

Mostly because my memories of this place don’t date back any farther than yesterday.

The hallways are bustling with students hurrying to get to class, so regretfully, it doesn’t look like you have much more time to loiter around and chat.

“I guess I should head to my classroom now,” Itadori says. “But I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better! I’ll see you again soon, okay?”

“Yeah, see you around,” you smile.

He walks off, and within moments of stepping away from you, some other student comes up to him and drapes an arm around his shoulder. He’s absurdly popular, of course. The kind of person that others naturally gravitate towards.

You smile, heart pounding wildly in your chest. It’s still crazy how this is even happening right now. Talking to him always leaves you breathless, in a sense. It leaves you feeling giddier than you can even put into words.

Even though your nose is still a bit sore, you’re in such good spirits that it hardly even fazes you, so you turn around with a spring in your step.

Only to hastily clear your throat.

“Um, sorry if this is a weird question, but… does anyone know which desk I sit at?”

Lunch rolls around, and Itadori returns.

It turns out that when he said he’d see you again soon, he meant really soon. You watch, mouth agape, as he excitedly waves to you from your classroom’s doorway.

“[Name]!” he calls out. “[Name], hey! Over here!”

He’s as expressive as ever, and your classmates don’t even look surprised that he’s calling your name with such enthusiasm, despite you having only just transferred in. Itadori’s so friendly that it’s practically a given he’ll get along with everyone.

You walk over and give him a curious look. “Itadori? What’s going on?”

“Nothing much,” he grins. “Just wanted to ask if you wanted to eat lunch together. My treat! It’s the least I can do for you, all things considered.”

“Are you sure? You really don’t have to. I packed a lunch from home,” you say, gesturing towards the bento box on your desk.

He scratches his cheek. “Hm, okay. Well, I guess I won’t buy you lunch today, but I’ll definitely do it next time! Did you want to eat together anyways?”

No way.

You can’t believe this is actually happening. It’s crazy enough that you were able to meet him in the first place, but now he’s even going out of his way to seek you out? You suspect it’s mainly because he feels guilty for injuring you and wants to make sure you’re okay, but still.

Itadori Yuji could actually become your friend?

“Y-Yes,” you blurt, immediately cringing at how excited you sound. “Um, yes. Thank you for inviting me. I’d love to eat lunch with you.”

“Awesome!”

His grin shows no sign of disappearing, and you race back into the classroom to quickly grab your bento box, heart fluttering all the while.

Together, you walk through the hallways, and it looks like he’s leading you someplace. You can only assume it must be his usual lunch spot.

Eventually, he stops in front of another classroom. It has a big plaque above it that reads Home Economics, but there’s also a paper plastered to the door. A paper that says something else entirely.

Before you can even comment, Itadori slides the door open and looks back at you, grinning yet again.

“Welcome… to the Occult Research Club.”

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