#it's really annoying how people address this topic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sweetnans · 4 months ago

Text

Stuck in the moment || Bakugo, K. (pt.4)

Pairing: fuckboy Bakugo/hopelessly romantic fem. reader

Trope: Enemies/friends to lovers.

summary: You made a mistake, a huge mistake. You fucked the most cocky, annoying, bastard, fuckboy you knew. Bakugo Katsuki. And that fact was against all your beliefs. Now, after the rumor (truth) spread like a pandemic virus in college you'll have to live with the stormy consequences of your acts and whatever trash was brought with it.

a/c: Hey, it's me again. Here we are in a new series I plan to continue. I really hope you enjoy it. I put my favorite man in action (bakugo) being a selfish bastard that you would love eventually and I couldn't help to put another "trope" I'm a sucker for (guardian/father figure Aizawa) I'm so sorry if that bothers you. Once again, I'm sorry if I misspelled something, English is not my first language. (Not proofread yet)

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3♡ -> Pt.5

m.list

Is there anything better than privacy?

Nope.

Bakugo had a room for his own. His roommate bailed from college right after the first class. He had an awakening about his future or something like that he had said before taking all his clothes and leaving. Bakugo felt some sort of relief that lasted...ten minutes? His friends used to invade his space quiet often. When he came to his room after seeing your flirting with Todoroki (from afar according to him), Kirishima and Sero were there talking about a game. They noticed in an instant that something was happening to his friend. He had his usual scowl on his face, but his brows were knitted together. A bad omen.

"Hey dude, what's up with that face?" Seemed like Sero was the one who grew a pair overnight.

Bakugo only grunted on his way to the closet. He needed to change his clothes to go to the stupid party you were attending. He made sure of that.

What if he sees you with Todoroki? Was it going to make his stupid stomach churn again?

"Hey man, we were talking about the party," Kirishima said, gaining part of his attention. "We were thinking about staying here, playing games, drinking our secret stash-"

"Fuck no" he didn't even stutter.

The reaction from Bakugo set an alarm to both of his friends. They knew about how casanova Bakugo could be, but he never, ever, showed that much, the fact that they were almost certain, after what happened with you just a week ago, that his friend's response was going to be a solid yes.

"Why so eager?" Sero asked.

"I just need the distraction," Bakugo shrugged while picking and searching the proper outfit.

He was vane most of the time, but he never took more than five minutes to choose a plain shirt and baggy jeans. Kirishima knew very well what was going on.

"Sero, why don't you go knock Mina's door and tell her about the change of plans"

Kirishima tried to be subtle. Man, he tried. Fortunately, Bakugo was so busy trying to decide between a white shirt and a black shirt that he didn't notice the exchange of looks that his friends were doing right under his nose.

"Sure," Sero winked to Kirishima and left the room.

Kirishima didn't know how to address the topic. His friend would definitely deny it, and they would be doing a full circle with yes and no that would end up in Bakugo just answering with noises.

Bakugo couldn't stop touching the fabric of his clothes. Was it too soft? Was it too white? What if there was a theme he didn't know about?

"You're panicking." Kirishima crossed his arms while leaning on his desk chair. He wouldn't lie, the scene was comical to witness. "You know you can talk to me"

The friendship between the two of them was something that most people didn't understand. Kirishima was always smiling, talking to everyone and telling jokes, while Bakugo, well, he had a permanent scowl on his face, rarely showed any other emotion than bored superiority and the only events that people saw him interacting with other people was with only one purpose, to state that he was better than everybody else. He was considered a private man and someone who had a police tape that said, do not cross.

"I don't know what's happening to me," he said, exposing his heart. He wasn't going to start naming or counting details. It was implicit, and Kirishima understood very well.

"You know what, man, you need to clear your head a little. This week had been rough. What about a beer pong to drain some stress off?"

Bakugo nodded to himself without even glancing at his friend. He needed a distraction, and he was almost sure that a party was a good place to find it.

...

"I can't believe that you, the queen of punctuality, is late" Jirou was losing it with you, the fact that you left her on read after she sent that demanding text and that you were also taking your time on getting ready.

"I'm sorry, Aizawa asked me to feed his cat, and you know how she is"

Blaming your non-biological dad was the ultimate movement in your pocket, so gen z of you.

"Oh yeah, Denki told me about the rizz in your training class. How did it go?" She asked you while picking her nails looking uninterested but you caught her side glancing you.

You slid your black leather skirt on your legs and shrugged.

"Well, you can see the burn marks on my legs here," you pointed above your left knee. "And here," you pointed your right mid thigh.

"Ugh, did you put something on it? That's gonna leave a nasty scar, " you denied, shaking your head.

She was right, but you didn't have anything to tend the wound.

"Does it hurt?" She asked this time, getting close to your leg.

"Yeah it does, like a motherfucker" you giggled. "But it's okay, it's a one-time thing, Aizawa is coming back and I would never ever ever have to sparr with him again"

There wasn't a pun intended in the mention of the one-time thing, but still, you really hoped that you would never have to be in that situation again.

"Well, at least this time was something professional"

You nodded, putting your boots on.

"Oh, but then, when I went to feed the cat, he was there, waiting outside Aizawa's door"

"He was where?"

Denki, as always, appeared out of nowhere, startling the shit out of you. Thank god he was outside the room this time and not hiding in the closet or under the bed.

"I'm pretty sure you heard me right," you said, putting some gloss on your lips. They stayed quiet, urging you to follow the story. "I finished my chores as a good daughter, and when I opened the door to leave Aizawa's apartment, I stumbled against him"

"What was he doing there?" Jirou asked with a quizzed look on her face.

"I don't know, he didn't tell me," you shrugged and turned around. Both of them were looking at each other with suspicious eyes. "What?," you inquired.

"I mean, not because we are your friends and we have to be delulu for you, but it's weird, don't you think?" Kaminari said and looked straight to Jirou for support.

"In a normal situation, we would be feeding you with improbable situations, but right now, I'm even intrigued with Bakugo and his behavior towards you. He seems like he's always trying to bump into you"

You couldn't believe what you were hearing.

"Wait a minute, we don't know why he was there. We haven't seen each other in a week less talk to each other, he's not trying anything, maybe he was lost or-"

"Yeah, right, lost." Jirou rolled her eyes sarcastically.

"I know the guy better than you two, and I think that Jirou is more on the correct side than you," Kaminari mumbled.

"Thank you!" Jirou stated, hoping off the bed.

"I think you're both wrong. He's not behaving in a way that's unnatural for him, he's just being obnoxious because what I said to him the other day, he's gonna leave me alone in a couple of weeks and move on to the next" you grabbed your jacket from the hanger and pointed to the door to get them going.

"You're basically saying that he's in fact following you." Kaminari dropped one of his heavy hands in your shoulder to keep you steady on the way to the party.

"She just proved my point without even meaning it." Jirou winked at you while you shook your head.

...

The lights inside the house were faint, a dim glow of absence in the middle of a considerable amount of bodies dancing at the rhythm of the music that was blasting through the speakers.

Jirou and Kaminari were the first ones to get lost inside the crowd, and it was perfectly fine for you. You weren't the kind of friends that were attached to the hip all the time. You respected each other spaces and you knew that eventually, you would find them slightly drunk, and you would hang with them again.

The party was situated inside of someone's home. A person you clearly didn't know. At that point, seeing nothing but unfamiliar faces, you started to doubt that Kaminari knew the owner of the house too.

You poured a transparent liquor in a red cup. You knew that you said earlier that you weren't going to drink, but just a drink won't hurt you.

You were looking at everything, trying to spot someone familiar or a thing to do. You wouldn't consider yourself socially awkward. In fact, people always found you easy to talk to, but you didn't make the first move. Between hi's and hey's, you recognized the characteristically two color bush of hair.

Todoroki was for you, an acquaintance. You knew him for a few classes. He always greeted you back when you raised your hand at him saying hi, but there was always something more. He was handsome and quiet, the mysterious pretty boy full of secrets that every girl wants to conquer. You weren't sure if you were one of them or if it was his vibe and mismatched eyes that always lit a little sparkle inside of you, tingling in your stomach with curiosity.

Well, you know what they say about curiosity killing the cat. Your only job was maintaining the cat alive, so for the sake of that...

"Hey," he said when he saw you approaching.

"Hi," you elevated your voice because of the music. He mimicked that he didn't hear you because of the speakers, so you leaned a little to his side. "Sorry, I didn't know you were into this"

The music, the flashing colored lights, the high pitch of voices from people trying to talk to each other. You included.

"It's friday night. What else can I do?" He shrugged hiding himself a little.

He was still a ball of cotton.

After everything that happened after the war, everyone evolved into a new facet of themselves, forming new angles, new emotions, and new personalities trying to rationale the traumas of the past into something positive.

He suffered a lot, and the fact that his suffering was being broadcast and watched by everyone in the world hurt a thousand times more. He lost all his privacy and the right to deal with the sorrow in his own way without staying in the public eye.

"I can relate to that." You sipped your liquor and scrunched your nose a little. "What are you drinking?" You glanced to his cup, but it seemed to only have water inside.

"It's vodka," he swung the cup in his hand and then gulped all the content down his throat in one go.

"It was vodka," you stated, quirking a brow. That was unexpected. And sexy. "Take mine, I don't like plain vodka"

You gave him your cup, and he accepted without second guesses.

"Do you want me to make you a drink?" He said.

It was subtle. There was no hint of flirtatious intentions. He was soft and friendly but unintentionally.

"Do you know how to make drinks?" You were surprised by his confidence. You doubted your capacities daily, so it was uncommon for you seeing this kind of demeanor, let alone in him. You were projecting.

"Yeah, there's this barman who always appears on my for you page"

He didn't laugh when he said the most mundane thing on the world, so you didn't laugh either.

"Sure, show me what you got"

You followed through the people, and in a moment where everyone was stuck like glue with everybody he grabbed you by your wrist to not lose you.

His fingers were warm, so you could bet it was his left hand. You wouldn't lie to yourself. The pads of his fingers carresing your pulse point in a firm, but soft grip made your cheeks turn red, but there was no chill in your spine or butterflies in your stomach. It was pure tenderness.

Once in the kitchen, the sound of the music lowered a little because of the close doors and the panels of ceramics doing their jobs, preventing the outside.

He moved through the kitchen, hesitating every step he took.

"What do you have in mind?" You leaned in the counter, forgetting you were wearing a slutty top that propelled your boobs almost to you neck.

He side eyed you, and after a peak to your neckline, he became more clumsy.

Your boobs were firm. They weren't big, but they weren't small. Your ex-boyfriends or past flings had always said to you that they were perfect. You knew that tits were tits for them, and the mere concept of boobs was attractive for every straight man.

Lifting your hand without making much fuzz over it, you pulled the top covering the skin.

"I-I," he stuttered, opening and closing a few drawers. He cleared his throat, regaining his confidence again, and showed you a couple of lemons. "Kaminari said once that your favorite drink was Cosmopolitans"

You were surprised by two things. The first was Kaminari talking about you. You needed the context of that conversation, the why, the who, and the how. The second thing was him remembering that unimportant fact about someone who didn't even talk to.

"Yeah," you came back from your stunishment.

Completely, contrary to how he moved in the kitchen fetching all the ingredients, he showed that he was a total expert making drinks, or at least he was good pretending to know how to make them. He used his hands graciously to pour all the things into a shaker he found, and then he poured the most delicated drink you ever saw.

You were used to Kaminari and Jirou mixing all the ingredients stirring them with a straw but that was different.

"Here you go"

The glamor ended when the drink touched the red cup, but we are going to skip that detail.

In your mind, you cursed yourself from the past, the one that swore that would never drink again because after sipping just a drop of that elixir, you couldn't help but want more.

"You shouldn't be moaning like that in front of everybody"

His gruff voice coming from behind made all the hairs in the nape of your neck react.

Of course, the only one that could ruin the perfect moment with the perfect drink and the perfect company was nothing more and nothing less than Bakugo Katsuki himself.

Oh, beloved earth, could it please swallow you already?

...

Bakugo meshed well because of his friends. They were talkative enough to supply the lack of social rudeness of him.

After they arrived at the party, he planted himself in a giant group of men playing beer pong. He played a few rounds and then got bored because everyone was wasted, and for him, it was no fun watching them stumble and laughing at the most stupid things.

His friend helped a little with that. They were talking with Sato and Shoji about some game and some fighting techniques that Bakugo was more than pleased to show interest and even help them with their doubts.

They engaged in a conversation that evolved to many topics that he actually enjoyed. He was fully focused on them when a glance of the color of your hair and the characteristically smile of you dragged all his attention out of the group.

You were wearing just a top and a tiny skirt with black boots that made him want to be stomped on.

Bakugo excused himself of the group. His friends were too busy to realize what was happening and why he was so exalted.

You weren't alone.

You were following that half n' half shithead.

He was the opposite of idiot. He knew how to play his game and how to act when he was committed to spying on someone. He observed from the slight opening between the frame and the door how Todoroki reacted to your presence and vice-versa.

He had a great view of your ass in that skirt. You were leaning on the counter with your ass popping up, and he could notice that Todoroki had a nice peak of your tits. He saw you covering yourself quietly after he became the stupidest person of all times acting distracted and awkward.

"Fucking icyhot," he thought.

Bakugo needed to do something quick, and for one moment, his lack of reasoning won over his structure and square shaped mind.

After that one sentence that drew your attention completely, he saw the change in your posture, the way your smile faded, and how suddenly all your muscles were rigid against every part of your skin that you were showing because of your outfit choice.

He felt intrigued because of the sudden change of your demeanor in response to his presence, and he also felt satisfied with that.

"Oh dear," you sighed, turning around to face him. He never showed any particular emotion, but this time, he couldn't hide the little smirk that appeared on his lips.

"I never expected to see you here," he continued.

You were about to answer when you realized that it wasn't directed to you. He was talking to Todoroki, ignoring your presence in front of him.

"Yeah, I'm not a fan of this kinda stuff," Todoroki said impassive.

"I can notice that," he said with superiority and because of the silence he added. "So what's going on in here? Are you having a little party for yourselves?"

Bakugo knew very well how to play the who can be more annoying game. In a matter of competition, he always won. This wasn't an exception.

"Todoroki was making me a drink, and that's all, now if you excuse us -" you said, opening your eyes and directing them to the door so he could read the room.

"Cool, what'cha drinking?" He didn't wait for your answer and grabbed the drink that you left in the counter taking a giant sip.

The tension in the room was palpable, and you were dying of embarrassment. The booze in your system was not the sufficient amount to get you through what was happening. You wanted to die.

"That's a little too acid for me, but it's good, sure you did a great job"

The way he was saying things was taking you to the verge of lightning him up with your quirk. You looked at Todoroki. He was more than used to weird interactions, but he was looking at Bakugo in a way you couldn't decipher.

"I have an early training at my dad's agency tomorrow, I have to go." Todoroki voice was plain, but when he looked at you, you could see the pity in his eyes. "Maybe next time"

Your entire body was saying sorry, but the words never got to your mouth. You only nodded. He was a good guy and someone that you were actually interested in getting to know, but there was the other bastard ruining everything again.

Both of you saw Todoroki leaving the kitchen, and if someone was looking at the scene from outside, they could've seen how Bakugo puffed out his chest and how the pure rage invaded your body.

"Look what you just did!" You smacked his bicep, and he smirked wider, making you regret smacking him so lightly.

"What? He was totally shitting on himself with you here. I saved his ass. " he pointed towards the door that was still moving with the tandem of Todoroki storming out. "I bet he wouldn't have made it to the second base with you"

"Jeez, that's for me to decide," you whined like a little girl.

"I just did what I had to do"

"Oh my god, what's gotten into you lately?" The bravery made only by the alcohol in your system took control of yourself. "You've been following me and riling me up just for the fun of it. It's been a fucking week I thought that what happened between you and me was more than over, what do you want from me?"

Just as the booze took over your system, Bakugo had his own little thing commanding his decisions. He wasn't sure of what it was.

"I want us to be friends"

You were taken by surprise.

He didn't know what he was doing. He didn't do friends, he didn't need a friend, he had enough but you, what was the deal with you? He found exhausting the feeling of you feeling repulsed by him, the avoidance game that you played very well.

Damn he felt intrigued by your lack of excitement when it came to him. Excitement? The euphoria that tagged along with having the experience with him, people talked about his stamina in bed very often, and that was the clear answer in his head. Was he good enough? Yeah, he was, but it seemed that he wasn't enough for you.

He always knew that his attitude was bad and people loathed him because of it, and it was alright for him. He could definitely still live knowing that. It made sense, at least, hating him for something bad like his demeanor...but sex? He thought he was one of the dudes that the girls wanted more of, the type of guy that the girls will speak of with their friends, the type of guy that would be top tier in a chick's list, well, that really happened before, many times, but what was the problem with you? Why did everyone else he sleep with do that but not you?

He didn't expect the sudden feelings that came along with the concept of you.

Rage. He remained calm in the most stressful situations, but you, with the snap of your fingers and your smart mouth, did everything to put his world upside down, and that wasn't fair for him.

Jealousy. Seeing you flirting, talking with other people when the number of times he had ever spoken to you were almost close to zero than to ten.

Even dependency. He wanted to be close to you so much.

And...confusion, why? why was he feeling so out of control out of nothing?

That's how it felt being pussy whipped?

"Friends?" You snapped him out of his senses.

"Yeah, friends is a word that means -"

"I know what friends are, you stupid asshole." You rolled your eyes at him who was still standing there with superiority after destroying your moment with Todoroki.

"So?" He urged. He was calm even when his mind was racing at the possibility of you saying no.

"What's in for you?" You were suspicious. You knew very well the closed circle of friends he had, only four at best.

"Nothing, I found you not a total waste of space," he said nonchalantly. If you were expecting him to shower you with compliments, you were wrong.

You knew how he was. Always believing he was the best, that his position in the world was above the others, how he called 'extras' the people that were surrounding him but not fulfilling his expectations or even near his expectations, well, if he had one because most of the time people weren't worth his time.

You were exactly the opposite of him. You never had the need to test people out. You never had the need to prove yourself against others. You lived your life day by day, almost unnoticed. You needed to be smarter than him.

"Fine," you conceded. "But, there's one condition"

He scoffed, clearly enjoying and making fun of you for thinking you had the position on making conditions.

"We are not fucking again"

You drew the line.

You've had your friends with benefits before because you knew them. Bakugo was a completely different scenario for you.

He wouldn't lie. He, in his men mind, thought that maybe offering his friendship to you would be the easiest way to get inside your panties. You were not just a pretty face. You had brains.

"Sure, you don't see me fucking with raccoon eyes" he rolled his eyes pretending to be offended.

"Then we have a deal." You smiled tensely at him. He extended his hand for you to take it. "That's how you normally make friends? Like you are selling something?"

"Shake the damn hand"

He used the opportunity of you closing your hand in his to pull you closer to him, stumbling against his broad chest.

You looked at him squirming your eyes, waiting patiently for the moment he decided to fuck everything up. He looked closely at your face, the smuged marks of your eyeliner under the corner of your eyes, the way your lashes curled up and marked more the shape of your eye. He was perplexed by your beauty.

"You left some hair on my pillow, " he said with his voice hoarse, tugging a string of your hair behind your ear.

"We said friends, didn't we?" You smacked his hand far away from near you and he smirked.

"Yeah," he shrugged. "To be honest, I don't know how long this is going to last"

"What do you mean?" You asked, taking the remaining amount of drink in your cup.

"Don't get me wrong. Im a man of my word, but I don't know if you would be able to keep up with our promise"

You laughed at him. You've seen the man naked. You had him on top of you. You didn't need anything from him.

If he wanted a challenge, you would be more than happy to comply.

"Yeah, of course," you scoffed, "I have so little control of myself that I won't be able to keep my hands to myself."

The tone in your sarcasm was rich. He found it amusing.

"Laugh all you want, but I'm not going to be the one suffering because of this dumb decision of keeping us as only friends"

The seriousness on his voice sent a chill up and down through your spine.

"You are so full of yourself." You laughed again, but this time, it was a nervous laugh.

He put his hands up in redemption while walking backward toward the door and then left you all alone in the kitchen with your thoughts.

Was he drunk, too?

He was, only ten minutes after you accepted on being his friend, in fact, suffering because of your quick answer and condition to not mess with each other. He needed strategy, thinking logically to make you make the first move with him.

He didn't know what was the thing responsible for him being so stubborn when it came to you. He didn't know if it was like those occasions when you became obsessed with the things that were out of your reach. The negative of you about being even near him again. He didn't understand a thing about what was going on. But he did know that he was Bakugo Katsuki, and when he had something - someone in this case - in mind, he didn't give up until he had it in his hands.

(Not proofread yet)

End note: I'm working late cause I'm a writer. I tried to make it longer because I made you wait a week for it, so enjoy! Todoroki making us our favorite drink? We know that since he discovered youtube shorts and reels (not tiktok because he is half boomer and socially awkward) he's been stuck with watching short videos every day, cocktail videos and house projects are his favorite, I have no doubt about that.

A penny for your thoughts about this (not really but express yourself)

taglist: @kiridagremiln @aefillor @screechingfangirlaf @chuugarettes @gold24fish @dreamcastgirl99 @andyetshewrote @budibbly @candiiee @linkfromskywardsword @galaneiaeris @fantasynerd05 @big-denki-energy @3thr3al @marsbars09 @whatswrong7 @scaranthropy @cc1306 @junehasnotbeenfound @jeanbabygirl @pirana10 @sappho-the-kitten-tamer @ahbeautifulexistence @polarbvnny @th0tformikasa @surprisemodafakas @xxjesshuxx @katsuisbaby @azzo0 @atashiboba @azzo0 @berryvioo @hiimsaraandyou @bizzybkd @regrexx @justsinri @slut-4-gojo @bexxs @lemuhr @monkeycheeks-lvl26 @tsukikoxo @sikuthealien @mia-luvs @dondeh-zedonutqueen @the-queen-yn @stardream14 @pretty-sparkle-bomb @itzjustj-1000 @m-atcha-tea @liluvtojineteyam @shosuki @v3n7s @yoyolovesdaiki @jenna-sakura @femi12hhf @aejabba @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere

taglist continues on the comments.

963 notes · View notes

lemonlover1110 · 2 years ago

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 1] Ikebana

Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Chapter Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Morning Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Handjob, Spitting, Praise Kink, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Shower Sex, Death (Not Major), Slight Angst, Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Satoru doesn’t remember much about his childhood– Not the parts that didn’t involve you anyway. He remembers playing with you when you were kids, but apart from that, he can only remember pivotal moments. Important moments that to no surprise, always managed to involve you.

When Satoru was five, he walked into his kitchen with a scraped knee, searching for help from someone that worked around the house. That’s when he saw a girl around his age, and he got excited. So excited that he forgot about his scraped knee. The girl hadn’t noticed him though, as she tried to get her mother’s attention.

“Hi! I’m Satoru” were his first words to her. That’s when you turned to see him, and you like to think that a beautiful friendship blossomed.

Satoru never really understood why you lived there, or why his parents never acknowledged you when you two played together. They’d address Suguru, one of his closest friends, or literally anyone else that would come over from school. Just not you, even though you’d play together every afternoon.

When Satoru was seven, he understood that your mother was a servant and lived in the servants’ quarters along with the other people that worked in the house. Satoru didn’t quite understand how important his family was or how rich they were at that time.

When Satoru was eight, he was turning into a spoiled brat. He was already spoiled before but he wasn’t quite a brat. He’d throw tantrums more often, and not only was he rude to his friends, but especially to you. That attitude went on for months until you said,

“I don’t want to play with you anymore.” which made Satoru realize that maybe he wasn’t being the best person to his friends. That same afternoon you received your first flower. A lily that he picked out from his mother’s garden, something that if she knew, she’d be livid. That was the first time Satoru ever apologized to anyone, and the first time he gave a girl a flower.

When Satoru was ten, he remembers how his parents started to argue about topics he didn’t quite understand. He just remembered being uncomfortable as he heard their aggravating yelling, and feeling embarrassed because you’d be there playing with him. As an adult, Satoru wonders why they decided to argue so close to his room when they lived in a literal mansion. He guesses it’s not their fault that their bedroom was right by Satoru’s. But in the end, Satoru is grateful because you decided to help Satoru out by dragging him out of the room.

He remembers being annoyed at first, claiming he didn’t want to play outside. The playroom was close to his parents’ bedroom as well. There was nowhere he seemed where he could escape, although the house had a multitude of rooms. You dragged him to your mother’s room and showed him the few toys you had. You still had fun, and Satoru was able to forget about his parents’ problems.

When Satoru was eleven, he begged his father to allow you to go to school with him. The problem was that he went to a private school, and the tuition was something your mother could definitely not afford. But he begged and begged until his father finally pulled some strings and got you into the school, and the Gojo family paid for your school’s tuition.

When Satoru was twelve, his father’s work was in vain. Satoru’s group of friends didn’t really like him hanging out with someone else so much while at school, especially a girl who was just the daughter of a servant. Satoru got defensive about it at first, until he wasn’t. He stopped hanging out with you at school, ignoring you at lunch or whenever you found yourselves in the classroom together. You didn’t understand Satoru’s cold behavior until you heard one of his friends talk about you to him.

“Why do you even keep looking at her? She’s probably all dirty.” And those words broke your heart. You knew what he meant. You also remembered Satoru not saying anything.

You didn’t try to talk to him back at his home, and he really didn’t mind. From that moment on, your friendship deteriorated since Satoru wouldn’t try to talk to you, locking himself in his bedroom.

When Satoru was thirteen, he thought he got his first crush. It was one of your friends from school, he recalls her name being Shoko. He found her cute, and thought about asking for your help to ask her out, but you two didn’t talk anymore. You didn’t acknowledge each other, even though you went home together.

When Satoru was fifteen, he no longer had a crush on Shoko. He doesn’t know if he ever actually liked her or if he just liked the fact that she was so close to you. Satoru found himself missing the friendship you had, wondering how he could get it back. It had been three years since it came to an end. He didn’t know how to get that friendship back. During the summer, he did the same thing that he did when he was eight years old: picked lilies from his mother’s garden and gave them to you. That was the second time that you got flowers.

“Hey!” Satoru yelled when he spotted you walking around the backyard. It confused you because Satoru doesn’t talk to you anymore. What confused you even more was Satoru holding two flowers from his mother’s garden. He walked up to you, and you stared, trying to figure out what he’s planning.

“Mr. Gojo… What do you need?” You asked him. He extended his arm, attempting to hand you the flowers. But you didn’t take them.

“I want to apologize. I haven’t been… the best person to you. You were my best friend for seven years and now I don’t even know your interests. All because I listened to some stupid boys.” He said, and you pouted. You took the flowers from him before you wrapped your arms around him. “I miss you as my friend.”

“I miss you too, Satoru.”

A friendship formed again, but it wasn’t quite like the one you had ten years ago.

When Satoru was sixteen– Sixteen was a weird year for Satoru. He had gotten his friendship with you back, yet it was awkward. Not because you missed being friends with each other for three years, but more because Satoru had some weird feelings toward you. He thought it was just tension because of his past behavior, but he realized how upset he got when Suguru confessed that he had a crush on you.

“Why do you even like her?” Satoru immediately asked, his blood boiling. The moment those words left his lips, Satoru knew that the reason everything was so weird was because he liked you. When he was sixteen, Satoru finally realized he liked you.

When Satoru was seventeen, he fell in love. He fell in love with the way you expressed yourself, the way you dressed, your interests. He loved the way your face lit up whenever he asked about what you liked. The way you excitedly spoke and stumbled over words. It’s creepy to even say that he loved the way you smelled. Yet Satoru never bothered to confess, scared to be rejected, also because his best friend still liked you.

When Satoru turned eighteen, he got tipsy on his birthday. Even though he invited you to the party, you didn’t show up. You chose to spend the night with your mother because in the end, you wouldn’t fit in with Satoru and his friends.

He wasn’t having the fun he planned on having, he was just thinking about you. He knew you were around, but he didn’t want to drag you out of your room to spend time with people you don’t like that much. He debated on not celebrating at all, but then he realized how suspicious it’d end up being. He didn’t want you to realize how he liked you.

His plan was to move on past it all, although it was hard because he was literally so in love with you. The thought of you with anyone else made him sick. He just didn’t know how to tell you, fearful of rejection. He tried to have fun, drinking along with his friends.

“Satoru, where are you going?!” Suguru yelled as Satoru began to walk away from everyone else, heading to the servants’ quarter. Suguru thought about following him, but he stayed behind when he was approached by some of his friends. Satoru just had a single thought in mind. You.

He remembered your mother’s room clearly, it was the third door to the left. He was about to knock, but he paused. Then he heard your voice, and he wondered if he was hallucinating until he turned and saw you.

“That’s not my room anymore. My mom asked your mother if I could have a separate room… Around five years ago.” You told him as he slowly walked towards you. You stood confused because he didn’t bother to speak. Until his hands cupped your face and he looked down at you. His gaze shifted from your eyes to your lips.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how beautiful you are.” He began, and you looked up at him– At first utterly confused. But it hit you. Pretty quickly you realized why Satoru was so distant. You then thought that you were thinking way too highly about yourself, especially when the breath of alcohol passed your nose.

“Satoru… You’re drunk. You should go to bed. I can tell everyone else to go home.” You offered while Satoru smiled.

“Drunk? No way. Maybe just a little tipsy.” He dragged out his words and you’d be laughing if his hands weren’t on your face. He forced you to look at him, and his face got closer and closer to yours. “I just want to kiss you right now.”

“You’re really confident.” You responded. Satoru has never exerted this type of confidence before.

“May I kiss you?” He questioned, and your face got warm at his question. Your gaze lingered on his glossy pink lips, and you wanted to accept. But you knew better because Satoru isn’t in his right state of mind. Maybe he wasn’t drunk but he was definitely leaning more toward being drunk than sober.

“You’re not thinking straight.” You said. “Don’t do something you’ll regret, Satoru. I can put you to bed.”

“I’m not a child– I know what I’m doing.” He answered. He licked his lips, while he continued to look down at your lips. “Please.”

“Why would you even want to do that?” You asked, blinking slowly as you watched Satoru. Satoru bit down on his lip as he tried to come up with an answer. Maybe he’s tipsy, but he isn’t dumb enough to humiliate himself like– He’s no better than that.

“Because I love you. I love you so much.” And with that, Satoru kissed you. It wasn’t his first kiss, but it was for sure the most memorable one of his life. He knew he’d regret it the next day, but he couldn’t live his life without at least having kissed your sugary soft lips once in his lifetime. Even if everything ended up awkward between the two of you.

When Satoru turned eighteen, he ruined his friendship with you. But in the end, it all worked out. He ruined his friendship because you ended up as his girlfriend instead, which is more than he could’ve asked. At eighteen, Satoru got his greatest gift.

And now, Satoru is twenty-one, thinking about proposing to his girlfriend. You’re no longer eighteen, so of course a lot of things have changed. Instead of staying in the Gojo house, you’re now hours away at college, while Satoru finishes a useless degree at the best university in the world.

He’s so close to finishing his degree, but time seems endless when he’s in a different country from you. He can’t wait till he gets to wake up each morning next to you, it feels like that day isn’t soon enough.

“How’s school, baby? Nothing too stressful I hope.” Satoru says, looking at the small device in front of him that displays your face. It really does you no justice. He’d give just about anything to be with you right now, but he’ll be flying you out soon so you’ll spend some quality time together. The more time you spend apart, the more romantic your reunion ends up being.

“Annoying. Boring. Stressful.” You list, and he chuckles. “I can’t wait to see you, baby. It’s what motivates me nowadays.”

“Aw, I’m flattered. It’s the same with me though. I’m just thinking about you all day and night. I can’t wait to see your pretty little face.” He tells you.

“You’re seeing me right now, aren’t you?” You respond, and he ends up rolling his eyes before he laughs. Every time you call each other, you talk on the phone for hours, and Satoru never gets bored of it. Usually, the call ends with one of you falling asleep, and this time it ended up with you falling asleep.

“I love you.” Satoru says, his eyes droopy as he hangs up the call. He smiles, thinking about spending the rest of his life with you. He can’t wait to propose, just thinking about giving you the ring he bought for you.

He succumbs to slumber, not hearing as the phone rings. He doesn’t return the call the next day either, assuming that his parents don’t have anything important to say. They never do.

Satoru waits eagerly at the airport, his eyes looking around to find his love with her luggage. You texted him when you were on the plane, and texted him once you landed, so it’s now a matter of time for him to find you. He anxiously glances at his phone every thirty seconds, waiting for you to send him a text. He’s hoping that you’re okay and you haven’t gotten lost.

“Satoru!” You yell, and Satoru’s eyes brighten up as a smile overcomes his face. He waits for you with open arms, and you run to wrap your arms around him. Two months since your last encounter, your lips meet his in a sweet kiss. He doesn’t want to pull away, but he knows he has to before he ends up doing something that he shouldn’t be doing in an airport.

“My love, how was your flight?” He asks, taking the luggage from your hands so you can walk without having to carry anything heavy. You begin to walk toward the elevator.

“It was good. There was a baby crying the whole way here though, I was a bit annoyed not gonna lie.” You share, and Satoru almost laughs, but he feels as if it’d end up insensitive. He offered to get his parents’ jet, but you refused. You don’t want to shove the relationship in their faces, knowing that they don’t like you– His father does, however, Mrs. Gojo doesn’t.

“You have all day to rest. But tomorrow we have our schedule all packed.” Satoru says, causing you to groan. You get into the elevator and Satoru clicks on the third floor to go to the floor he parked at.

“I’ve barely landed and you’re already making me think about work–”

“It’s not work if it’s fun… Unless you don’t like getting massages.” He cuts you off, and you quickly change your mind. You were wrong. “You know I’m not going to make you work while you’re with me. Ever.”

“Then why am I getting a degree?” You question as the two of you exit the elevator and begin to walk to Satoru’s car.

“To kill time before you can officially become Mrs. Gojo.” He answers, and you fight back a smile as you think about the possibility of marrying Gojo. When you were thirteen, you liked him, but you thought that getting with him was impossible. Now he gets on your nerves because he can’t stop saying how much he loves you.

“Why do you think I’d change my last name?” You ask as he opens the passenger door for you. You get in and he leans down to peck your lips before he says,

“Why would you pass up on the opportunity of becoming Mrs. Gojo?” He replies, and before you can say anything, he closes the door. You weren’t going to say anything anyway, you don’t want to offend his mom by saying that you’re afraid that by getting the last name, you’ll end up like her. Satoru knows that his mother isn’t the easiest of the bunch and he often complains about her, but you doubt that he’ll like hearing you complaining about her.

You check your phone while Satoru puts your luggage in the trunk. You don’t have many messages except the ones from your mother asking you how the flight was. You begin to text her back while Satoru gets in the driver’s side and turns on the car.

“Are you hungry?” Satoru asks and you shake your head. “Are you sure? I don’t have anything that you can snack on at home.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.” You answer. You know that Satoru frantically went shopping the previous day, and if he didn’t have anything, he’d order anything for you. He squeezes your thigh as he begins to drive.

“I just want to make sure you eat something before getting home. It’s an hour-long drive.” He informs you, and you still shake your head before you kiss his cheek.

“Thank you for caring about me.” You tell him. He grins from ear to ear. “Right now, all I want to do is take a nap.”

“You can nap while we drive back to my apartment. Then you can sleep for the whole afternoon.” He says, his hand caressing your thigh.

“I want to spend some time with you though.”

“We have all week to do that. Sleep a little bit.” He responds. You don’t have to hear him twice before your eyes shut and allow yourself to relax for the rest of the ride.

When you wake up, you’re in Satoru’s soft bed, and the sun isn’t out anymore. You slept the whole afternoon. You were barely awake while walking from the car to the elevator, and from the elevator to his apartment. You fell asleep on Satoru’s couch, and he carried you to his bedroom.

You see light coming from the bottom of the door, and you stand up and walk towards the door. The aroma of the food he’s cooking fills up the area, and it brings you to smile, knowing that he’s cooking something up. He usually tells you about the great meals that he’s learned how to cook, and you never believe him. Every time you’re reunited, he’s usually back at his house so he can’t cook for you, but he finally has the opportunity to show off his skills, so he’ll do so.

You walk to the kitchen to find him cutting up some tomatoes for dinner. You walk over to him, trying to be as quiet as possible since he hasn’t noticed you yet. You love scaring Satoru, and you’ll take every chance you can take to do it. You wrap your arms around him, hugging him from behind. He jumps up a little, startled. You kiss his shoulder before you say, “I was dreaming about you…”

“Really? Was I shirtless? I hope so.” He says, causing you to laugh. “Dinner is almost ready.”

“Good. I’m starving.” You tell him. “Where’s everything? I want to start setting the table.”

“You can sit down and watch some TV. You’re not lifting a finger this whole week.” Satoru tells you, and you certainly can’t complain. You never have had the chance to sit back and relax, and since your boyfriend wants to give you that opportunity, you’ll take it. “I still haven’t made reservations for tomorrow’s dinner, do you want anything specific?”

“I really haven’t thought about anything. You can pick.” You answer. You surf through channels, trying to find something that you’re entertained by, and when you finally find the right one, Satoru announces,

“Everything is set. You can come now.”

You stand up and walk over to the table and take a seat. You look at the food and your stomach growls at the sight, causing Satoru to chuckle. He serves your food while you comment on how delicious everything looks.

“I have so much for us planned.” Satoru shares as he passes you your plate. You begin to eat without waiting for him, simply too hungry to wait for him. He laughs, seeing how eager you are to eat. “I’m not sure if we’re going to do it all.”

“Why not?” You ask, genuinely curious.

“Do you really think we’re getting out of the house much when you’re not so tired?” Satoru asks, and you feel your face warm up. You sheepishly smile at him, then you focus on your food to try, trying to hide your embarrassment. He notices and tries to change the topic, “I’ll be visiting home soon too.”

“Really? I can’t wait. One week isn’t enough.” You say. “You should come by more often.”

“Staying home isn’t that fun, baby. First day is fine but then my mom gets annoying.” He responds. “When I move back I’ll get an apartment for the two of us. Or maybe a house so we can start a family right away.”

“A family? Aren’t we too young?” You question, and he chuckles. If only you knew all the plans he has already made in his head, all of them to be completed within five years. “Not that I’m opposed–”

“If it were up to me we’d get married tomorrow.” He interrupts you. “But of course, we have to give it some time. However, I’m not moving back till a year or so, you might change your mind then.”

“Really?” You respond. You love Satoru more than you could ever imagine loving someone, but you have a couple of other priorities that come before starting a family with him. “I’m not opposed to getting married soon, but I do think we should wait before starting to have kids and such. We’re still so young, even if it’s in a year.”

“Well–”

“Plus, your mother would probably want us to have a lavish wedding, even if she doesn’t like me. Lavish weddings take a long time to plan. We can’t have a child out of wedlock, can we?” You argue, and he ends up sighing defeated.

“You’re right, baby. You win.”

Sunlight peeks in through the gap between Satoru’s curtains, and they hit you directly. You fell asleep without a problem last night, and now when the sun has barely risen, you’re awake. You feel a large arm wrapped around you, and smile as you hear Satoru’s heavy breathing. You take in his fresh, clean scent before you attempt to escape his embrace to begin getting ready for the day. But he doesn’t let go. He pulls you close to him, burying your face into his bare chest.

“Where are you trying to go?” He murmurs, barely comprehensible. “You’re not getting up from here until I’m ready to wake up as well.”

“I can’t just spend all day here in bed. You’re going to take a while to wake up.” You respond, yet he doesn’t let go. You’re not going to fight it, after all, Satoru is much stronger than you. You spend around five minutes, laying in bed, doing nothing before you tell him, “Toru… C’mon.”

“You’re really going to wake me up?” He replies while your fingertips begin to trace down his sculpted body. Your fingers feel featherlike running down his body, and it certainly doesn’t help keep him awake. That’s until your finger hooks on the waistband of his briefs. But you don’t do more than that. “Aren’t you going to continue?”

“Aren’t you sleeping? I don’t want to disturb you.” You say, and he grabs your hand, guiding it inside his briefs. Your hand wraps around his shaft and he begins to move it.

“I’m wide awake, baby.” He responds, and your hand begins to move at its own pace. He takes his hand out, moving it inside your pajama shorts to tease your clothed cunt. Your lips go up to meet his, your tongue pressing against his bottom lip before it enters his mouth. Your hand works ever so slowly on his shaft, and he’s groaning in your mouth.

You pull away from the kiss and take your hand out, spitting on it before going back to stroke his dick. You’re slowly picking up speed, and Satoru moans with your every move. His mouth lands on yours again, trying to suppress the embarrassing sounds that escape his throat. He also pushes your panties to the side, two fingers running through your folds to gather your slick, while your tongue presses against his.

Once he gets his fingers wet enough, he pushes them into your cunt. You moan into his mouth while he slowly begins to move his thick fingers in and out of you. This is what you miss most about being with Satoru, the fact that you’re left to play with yourself as if it could compare to what Satoru gives you.

Satoru curves his fingers so they hit just right, while his thumb begins to play with your clit. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, and you’re not focusing as much on stroking his cock. Satoru begins to thrust his hips, doing your job for you. You bite down his bottom lip before pulling away from the kiss.

“Hmm– It’s so fucking good, ‘Toru.” You moan, holding your breath while his fingers work their magic. You shut your eyes and try to take it all in. You completely stop moving your hand, but Satoru gets himself off, he’s moaning as he approaches his release. You feel the pressure build up as your orgasm approaches. “I love it, baby– Fuck–”

“Moan my name, baby. It’s so pretty when it rolls off your tongue.” Satoru mutters in your ear, his low raspy voice nearly enough to make you come. You begin to moan his name over and over again as your orgasm looms closer and closer.

You’re so focused on yourself that you don’t feel his cum that has soiled his briefs. Your hand stays wrapped around his cock while he makes sure to make you come. You get louder by the second until you finally come.

Satoru takes his fingers out and brings them up to your lips before he presses his fingers against them. You open your mouth and take his fingers in, and you begin to roll your tongue around them. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.”

He takes his fingers out of your mouth and then shoves them into his mouth. You watch him, taking off your pants before you get on top of him, your knees on either side of him. He takes his fingers out of his mouth while he looks up at you. You begin to rub yourself on his briefs.

“I want more, ‘Toru.” You tell him, while his hands go to your hips. Your lips go down to meet his, pecking him a couple of times before he responds,

“Then takemore, baby. I’m all yours to use.” He responds before you push down his underwear. Your hand strokes his cock a couple of times before you push your panties to the side and you align his dick with your entrance.

You slowly lower yourself on his cock, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. If his fingers are long and thick, his dick is even better. You’ve been waiting for this for so long. You take as much as you can get before you begin to move up and down his cock, making the man groan.

“What a sweet little pussy. I’ve missed you so bad, baby.” He says while you bounce on his cock, your hands on his chest for support. You bite down on your bottom lip, trying not to be too embarrassingly loud. You don’t want the neighbors to get the wrong impression of you, “Have you missed me? The same way I’ve missed you?”

“So bad.” You respond. Satoru’s hands go to your ass, his nails digging into the flesh. He looks up at you, watching your facial expressions as you take it all in. “Been thinking about you nonstop, ‘Toru.”

“That’s what I like to hear from my girl.” He says as he spanks your ass. He begins to move for you, setting a much faster pace than the one you were going at. Your eyes shut as you take it all in. His hand goes to play with your clit, getting you to the edge even faster. His cock alone is enough to make you come, but he loves making you putty in his hands as fast as he can. “I really miss you so bad, baby. I need you to be on my side all the time.”

“Satoru–” You moan, not really paying attention to the words that leave his lips anymore. He’s just making you feel so good on his cock, hitting every right spot, your thoughts are forming anymore so you’ll agree with anything and everything Satoru says. Even when he says,

“I’ll just give you a baby so you’re forced to be with me. Wouldn’t you like that? Don’t you want to carry my baby?” And all you can manage to yell is, ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ which brings a smirk to Satoru’s lips. “I’ll give you my baby. I’ll give you as many as you’d like.”

“Fuck–” You feel yet another orgasm take over, making you completely weak. Your nails dig into the skin of his chest while you’re on the edge of another orgasm. “Satoru, it’s so good.”

“I’m gonna give you my baby, make sure you’re stuck with me.” He continues, while you throw your head back. He feels your cunt tighten around him, and it drives him crazy. His voice is so whiny when he says, “Fuck… Baby… I need you by my side every day.”

“Satoru!” You loudly moan before you reach your orgasm, your legs spasming. Satoru praises you for it,

“Making a mess all over my cock… Oh, you’re such a good girl.” His hand smacks your ass again while you realize how much you love being praised, especially when what you’re doing is already giving you so much pleasure.

Satoru chases his release, and he gets so close to it with every movement. Your pussy feels so nice and warm around him… He doesn’t want to finish any time soon, he just wants to stay buried inside of it for the next six days. But that doesn’t stop the fact that he’s so close to finishing. “I’m gonna give it all to you, baby. Gonna give you my baby.”

He mutters a couple of words about knocking you up, making sure that you’re by his side for the rest of your lives before you feel the warmth in your cunt. His seed fills you up while your head falls onto his chest.

You both try to catch your breaths, his hand running up and down your back. He remains buried inside of you, and he won’t take it out unless you ask him to.

For a moment you just lay down, listening to each other breathe. But your stomach growls, and you feel your face get warmer than it already is, but this time of embarrassment. You speak, “We should eat something for breakfast.”

“Let’s wait for another five minutes.”

And while you two wait, Satoru’s phone rings. He reaches over to the nightstand to grab his phone, and he rolls his eyes before declining the call.

“Who is it?” You ask him. You heard his phone ring a couple of times the previous night, and each time he declined it. You genuinely wonder who it is, and you doubt that Satoru is seeing another woman so infidelity is not on your mind. He loves you too much.

“Just my mom. You know how annoying she can be.”

Satoru has shown you that he loves you a million different ways, but this, this by far is the best way that he has expressed his love. You get a pedicure and also a manicure. Satoru sits right next to you, also getting a pedicure. You commented how you were thinking of going to the nail salon before coming to visit him, but you didn’t plan it out. So here you are because your boyfriend is attentive.

He’s also having the time of his life as his feet get massaged. You exchange a few words every now and then, but neither of you is really in a talking mood. Until Satoru asks, “Where do you want to go for dinner? I still haven’t thought of any place.”

“I haven’t either.” You answer. “You should be the one to take me somewhere since you know the area.”

“I guess you have a point…” He responds, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s indecisive and he’s scared he’ll pick the wrong option. “But I planned this lovely day…”

“I think you can pick something else… It’s not a life or death decision, you just have to pick a restaurant. You couldn’t even help me pick a nail color, it’s the least you could do.” You tell him, and he chuckles before his eyes glance at your pink nails.

“I told you that you should do blue. You just didn’t want to listen.” He argues, and you laugh in response because he’s right. He did try to help you pick a nail color, he just didn’t pick one that you liked enough. “But fine, I can–” He unintentionally kicks his foot during his foot massage. He apologizes before he continues talking, “I can pick a restaurant.”

“I can’t wait for the massage…” You change the topic, and he hums in agreement. His phone begins to ring again, and he looks at the phone only to decline the call again. You look over at him and furrow your eyebrows before asking, “Your mom again?”

“She’s more annoying than ever. It’s like she knows that you’re here.”

“Maybe it’s something important. You should pick up the phone.” You say and he shakes his head.

“I just want to have a relaxing day with you, and she’ll ruin that. I’ll call her tonight.”

When you get back to Satoru’s apartment, you’re rushing to the bathroom to take a shower and begin getting ready for dinner. Satoru told you that he barely managed to get reservations at a nearby restaurant and that it’s one of the best restaurants in town. He told you the dress code, and you’re worried that you won’t have anything in your suitcase that fits.

Satoru thinks about joining you, sitting on the edge of his bed. It’ll slow you two down and possibly make you late, but that’s a risk that he’s more than willing to make. He thinks about it for a moment, until he ultimately decides that you can always eat somewhere else. He takes off his clothes as he walks to the bathroom, more than ready to delay today’s plans. He walks into the steamed-up room and sneakily makes it into the shower.

You’re spooked when you feel two hands land on your chest, and he squeezes your breasts. You turn to look at him, your eyebrows furrowed before you say, “Next time make sure to announce that you’re joining me or I might just die.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” Satoru says before he pecks your lips. He’s stepping forward, making you step back until the water is no longer hitting you and your back is pressed against the wall. “Since you don’t care about where we go for dinner, we might as well change plans last minute.”

“We can make it fast.” You respond before his lips land on yours. His tongue presses against yours while his hand feathers down your body until they reach your pussy. His fingers run through your folds while he pulls away from the kiss and moves down to your neck. He begins to suck on your sweet spot while he slips a finger into your cunt. A moan leaves your lips when he does so, and because he sucks on that sweet spot in your neck that’s enough to drive you wild.

He continues kissing down your body while he inserts another finger into your cunt. Just like earlier in the day, he curves them so they hit just the right spot, and you’re rolling your eyes. He’s on his knees, and his tongue begins to lick your cunt.

He focuses on your clit, and you have you bite your bottom lip so you’re not too loud. His tongue flicks your clit just right, and you’re barely able to stand.

“You’re doing such a good job.” You praise him, your eyes shutting as one hand grips his hair. Satoru eagerly licks, loving the taste on his tongue. God, he fucking hates the fact that you’re in a completely different timezone than he is. He really wants you by his side at all times.

He takes his fingers out and his tongue stops flicking your clit. His tongue moves down and it enters your cunt. His thumb begins to play with your clit while he moves his tongue around, and you’re not able to hold back your moans anymore. You feel your orgasm approach, and you grab a handful of his hair, pulling it. He doesn’t even notice, just enjoying the taste of you on his tongue.

“Fuck– I’m gonna come…” You tell him. His thumb works on your clit so well, and you praise him for it, which serves as his encouragement. He looks up at you, so adoringly, but you’re not looking at him. You get louder and louder until you finally come on his tongue. He takes his tongue out and kisses your clit before he stands up and kisses your lips.

You’re about to get on your knees and return the favor, but you both hear Satoru’s phone ring. He’s about to ignore it again, letting his mother get tired of calling, but the phone keeps ringing and ringing that it makes you say, “It must be important, ‘Toru. Go pick it up.”

“It’s probably nothing–” He begins but you cut him off.

“She’s very insistent, Toru. She’ll continue calling through dinner. Just check what she wants and I’ll finish my shower.” You peck his lips and he sighs in response before getting out, grabbing a towel, then grabbing his phone.

“Hi mom.” He greets her, a little too unenthusiastic for her liking. First, she asks where he has been and he responds, “I’ve just been resting after so many exams. I need to relax once in a while, y’know?”

“Your father is sick. Very sick.” His mother says, which makes the man freeze. “I’m not sure if he has much time left… He just suddenly– I don’t know.”

“What– I’ll be there first thing tomorrow.” Satoru responds, hanging up the call before he barges into the bathroom. You’re getting out of the shower, grabbing a towel to wrap it around yourself and Satoru announces, “We have to go back home tomorrow.”

“Oh? Why?” You ask, following behind him while he goes to his closet to begin packing essentials; he doesn’t need much since he has pretty much all he needs back at his house. “Satoru, is everything okay? Why do we have to go back so soon?”

“My dad is… sick.” Satoru says, slowly realizing the gravity of it all. His dad has never been sick, from what he can remember. He wonders how he’s so sick and how horrible it has to be for his mother to call. He sincerely thinks of the worst, and he hopes that in the end, everything ends up okay with his father. “I’m sorry for ruining your vacation but… If she’s calling me, it’s because it’s bad.”

“No, no. It’s okay, Satoru. He should be your priority.” You respond before going back to the bedroom to change into something more comfortable since your plans have clearly changed, and to pack up your suitcase once again. You didn’t expect your week to be over so soon.

“Dad…” Satoru says, barging into his parents’ room. Satoru paid for the next available flight and you flew out. Now you’re both at his parents’ house since you’re still on vacation and you’re not planning to go back to your apartment near your university yet. You’re with your mother, while Satoru sees his father to figure out just how bad it is.

He walks over to the bed where his father lies. His father isn’t looking too well, he looks so pale and exhausted. He’s definitely lost some weight too. Satoru walks to his father’s side before he sits on the edge of the bed. “How are you holding up? Mom didn’t tell me about you being sick before–”

“I asked her not to.” His father cuts him off. “I want you to focus on your studies so you can take over as fast as possible.”

“For how long have you been sick?” Satoru asks. This clearly isn’t something new, it was just kept from him. His father is rarely around, even when Satoru is visiting, so he never had the chance to see just how his health deteriorated.

“That doesn’t matter now, does it?” His father responds. “It doesn’t matter, really. I want to hear about you, Satoru. I know nothing about your life except that you were friends with one of the maids’ daughters.”

“Yeah…” Satoru chuckles, unsure of how to talk about it. His mother knows about the relationship, but he hasn’t talked to his father about it yet. Truth be told, he didn’t tell his mother, she just figured it out. “We’re not really friends anymore… She’s my girlfriend.”

“I know…” His father confesses with a chuckle before he begins to cough. He reaches for his handkerchief and covers his mouth. After a minute, he stops and his father grabs his glass of water and chugs majority of it before he speaks again, “I knew you two would end up together the moment you begged me to pay so she could go to school with you. That’s why I offered to pay for her college.”

“Wait, you’re paying for her college?” Satoru is taken aback by this but his father shakes his head.

“No. She turned me down. Told me I had already done enough.” His father shares, which makes Satoru wonder why you would say no to him, but it’s fine. It’s nothing too bad, he would’ve appreciated you sharing him though, “I like her. I don’t believe in love or soulmates all that much, but then I remember on your eighteenth birthday when I caught you two kissing, and maybe, I believed in love.”

“You don’t believe in love, dad?” Satoru questions, as he realizes this is about the most that he’s spoken to his father. He knew that his father and mother never really loved each other, at least not romantically. He realized it when he was around fifteen, but he didn’t expect to hear it from his father ever.

“I loved my father. My mother. You, ‘Toru. The day you were born was my happiest day, you were my little boy. But I never loved your mother in any type of way.” He confesses, and Satoru just inhales, swearing that he’ll never live like that. He can’t imagine living his life without you. “I appreciate her. She’s a very smart woman that’s kept everything afloat. She gave me you and I could never thank her enough for that. But apart from that, I never grew to love her. She’s a cold woman, and I wasn’t made to love a woman like that.”

Satoru just bites his bottom lip, unsure of what to say at his father’s confession. He expected something similar, but he still doesn’t like the confirmation that his parents were stuck in a loveless marriage. He hates knowing the fact because his father is on the brink of death and he’s probably never experienced love– That he knows of. Satoru often forgets that his father lives a whole different life and that he knows none of the details.

“How did you see me kissing– Oh.” Satoru begins and realizes quickly why his father was in the servants’ quarters. “Please don’t tell me it was–”

“Wasn’t with her mother. Don’t worry. She’s not my type.” His father assures Satoru, which somewhat helps him but still grosses him out. Satoru decides to change the topic, about to confide with at least one parent because he knows that his mother wouldn’t approve.

“I’m thinking about proposing to her soon.” He brings up, and his father grabs his hand and squeezes it. “I know I’m going to spend the rest of my life with her, so I don’t think I should waste too much time. She wants to get engaged after we both graduate.”

“Do what you think is best. Just hold tight to her and don’t let her go.”

“I love you, dad.” Satoru holds back tears as he hugs his father. His father hugs him back, patting Satoru’s back.

“I love you too, son.” His father responds, and he believes that it’s the first time he hears those words leave his father’s lips. He hates that he’s only heard this so late in life from his father, but he loves it, and he’s sure he’ll miss it.

A month after coming back, you’re back at college and Satoru is at his parents’ house, patiently waiting for the horrible day. He accepted his father wouldn’t make it, so he made sure to savor every moment. He’s barely talking to you, and you understand that he’s upset, so he’s distant. You still try to check up on him as much as you can, even when he barely tries to communicate.

One April night, right at midnight, your phone rings, waking you up. It’s Satoru, and your heart drops knowing why he’s calling. He calls you sobbing, and you try your best to calm him down. While you do so, you begin to get changed to head to his place, which is hours away but you’ll get there before sunrise.

“I’ll get there in a few hours, baby. Try to get some rest.” You tell him before you hang up the phone. And just as you promised you were in his house within hours, hugging him as he cried. He finally fell asleep in your arms, and you fell asleep shortly after.

Around six in the morning, he randomly wakes up, and you wake up as well. He pecks your lips before he says, “I want to marry you.”

“I want to marry you too.” You answer. Things change up and he becomes the big spoon before you both fall asleep again. Satoru is woken up and he sees his mother in the doorway, enraged at the sight.

“Satoru! My office, now!” She yells, and he’s forced to get up and follow behind his mother, who has taken the loss of her husband quite well.

After his father’s funeral, you go back to college and try to check up on Satoru as much as possible. He’s more distant than ever. He isn’t bothering to even text you back anymore, which you understand since he needs time to process everything.

A month after everything, you receive a call from Satoru out of nowhere. You think that he’s slowly going back to normal, and you exit the bathroom to calmly take the call. When you pick up the phone, you immediately hear his gloomy voice,

“Hey…”

“Hi, baby. How have you been holding up?” You respond. The last time you received a text from him was three days ago. “Are you back–”

“I’m fine– Oh I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” He says.

“Oh no. It’s fine. I’m glad to hear that you’re fine.”

“How have you been?”

“I’ve been feeling sick. I think I might be–” You begin but he cuts you off.

“I haven’t been feeling my best, and I think we should take a short break.” He says, and your heart drops. “I love you, but I don’t think I’m in the right headspace to be in a relationship.”

“Oh– Okay… Okay.” You feel the tears well up before you hang up the phone, not letting him say anything else. You doubt he has much to say anyway. You’re about to take a seat but then you remember the test in the bathroom, and you’re forced to walk back inside to read the results.

You gasp, a tear escaping your left eye before you grab it and throw it in the trash.

You’ll wait before breaking the news to Satoru.

@yeagerfushiguro @luckimoon @uhremmi @conniesbbymama @mykyoon @prettyiolanthe @mc-reborn @the-loneliest-girl @cloudsinthecosmos @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @yumihisusupremacy @blinkingsuns @oi-loverboy @Gojoismybitch @neireav @lilith412426 @goldfishesarecute @misshale21 @rivaiken @q-the-rockaholic @merlinssassybeard @ikilledsparky2 @abcde12345 @mimizsworld @jiwonchii @lily3847 @luckimoon @ryototsukai0824 @Stupendousexpertcheesecake @mrs-itadori

3K notes · View notes

vagabond-umlaut · 2 months ago

Text

summer collapsed into fall

summary: gojo satoru has no favourite colour. he feels no need nor interest to have one, either. pairing: gojo satoru x reader [unspecified gender] tags: slight undertones of teacher-student relationship BUT there is NO ACTUAL romance between them; can this be called pining? idk; character study like fic of our sweetest satoru *cries* he deserves sm better; fluff but with a mild serving of angst; wc 0.8k notes: fic title inspired by a quote by oscar wilde; fic inspired by this lovely post i saw on pinterest; jjk isn't mine; loosely related to 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate'; tumblr hates me using dividers hence the new fic format ^_^

satoru doesn't really have a favourite colour.

it's never quite crossed his mind. and even if it has, he has never seen it to be important enough to allow it be anything more than a passing thought, a meaningless thought---it is not like his life will be impeded should he not have a favourite colour, nor is anyone ever going to ask him what it is, so why bother?

but now, as you peer up at him expectantly, having already listed your top five favourite colours and why you love them so, satoru wishes he did bother back then.

he decides to feign confusion.

"what?"

"what what?" you shoot back, eager gaze not wavering one bit, "i just told you my favourite colours; aren't you gonna tell me yours? it's fine even if you have just one, sensei."

but is it fine if he has none?

throwing his watch a quick glance, he turns back to you. then exhales a quiet sigh, tired but the farthest from annoyed, when he sees you're still waiting for his reply... shutting the bus window beside, he turns to lean against it, shifting to face you properly.

and sighs, decidedly noisier this time, "this isn't the type of questions one asks their teacher, y'know? they are too casual, meant more for a friend than for a teacher."

"you got to be the last guy to lecture me about etiquette, sensei," you retort without missing a beat, huffing a quiet, amused laugh.

"and after the time i had to bring you to ieiri-san after you passed out from drinking a bit too much: i guess we're a bit more than a teacher and a student, aren't we, sensei?"

not really... no.

while satoru believes your first point to be a debatable topic, he does not think the two of you are anything but a teacher and a student, no matter how much help you extended to him or will in the future---it's not like he isn't grateful, though. he is; he really, really is---it's just his belief that few acts of kindness do not necessarily cause a friendship between people, and he intends to tell you this very clearly---

but finds he cannot. he simply cannot.

not when you say, still so eager but with an undercurrent so achingly soft that even the strongest wonders if he can handle its weight: "i'm not that bad a friend, y'know---you can ask others if you want; they'll tell you i'm a good friend, not the best but a decent one---"

"why don't you guess what's my favourite colour?"

rude, yes, horribly so. satoru knows, he knows this very, very well. but what can a man do but divert when he's being unsettled by words like the ones you addressed to him, by the tenor you employed for him---

although now that he observes you consider his suggestion, the man wonders if diversion was the right tactic or not.

he could have just lied and told you any random color. he could have chosen to be honest and told you he has no favourite colour like you and probably the rest of the world have.

but no, he doesn't.

satoru does not opt either of the above two painfully simple, painfully easy options. choosing instead to ask you to guess what his favourite colour is... satoru never really anticipates he'll end up being this much more unsettled, thanks to his decision of diversion:

if there was a subtext of a haunting softness in your manners before, the sorcerer reckons it is the text now, typed out in bold letters then underlined and highlighted in neon---you too shift to face him, even moving the bag kept in between to your lap and shifting a bit closer, but still a respectable distance away---only to punctuate your effort with a keen stare, much too gentle, at him.

it's scary, he thinks. yeah, undoubtedly scary. but somewhere in the back of his mind, something says it's also comforting.

many eyes look at satoru throughout the day. they gape, they gawk, they study the man and every small aspect of his person with many different kinds of reasons behind them. but before today, there has never been anyone who has regarded him with this much care, that too for a nonsensical cause like yours...

he wonders, just what are you seeing in him?

just who are you seeing in him?

"it's orange, isn't it?" you exclaim abruptly, leaning a touch forwards with a snap of your pointer and thumb. voice too loud. smile too big. eyes too bright, way too bright---

satoru takes not even one whole second to decide:

he now has one favourite colour.

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #kit posts 📝

213 notes · View notes

savannahsdeath · 11 months ago

Text

thinking about dealer!ellie, but not the college-little one . . . one, that an innocent girl like you sees on a dark alley and she can't help but instinctively start walking faster. yet, it turns out, she's really a sweetheart when you give her a chance <3

warnings: daddy issues kinda ?? ellie can seem creepy at first but i swear she's not .. thats all for now

you explored the darkest part of the city, the moonlight not brightening your way at all. you felt lost.

you always defined yourself as fatherless, it was the easiest way to explain the lack of a parent — people thought he died and didn't pursue the topic. after some time passed, you started believing your own lie. deep down, in a strangled part of your brain, you knew he's alive and well. but on the other hand, he wasn't — not for you, not in your life. why would he matter?

until he contacted you. he didn't show up in person, what at first made you think that he's... well, a pussy. but you soon realised it's actually analytical and mindful of him. you could act on impulse, say or do something bad. seeing him for the first time won't be easy. he gave you some time to think, so your emotions didn't get between both of you, and couldn't ruin your relationship from the beginning.

but he could at least leave you his phone number instead of the most complicated address, consisting of, not to be dramatic but, like a hundred numbers.

"can i help you?" you heard a feminine, yet hard and raspy voice.

the unforeseen sound made you jump, your heart beating like a little bird trapped in a cage, trying to get out of your chest. you couldn't let her notice how scared you were, though. you crumpled the letter in your sweaty hand. the yellowish paper felt humid, probably soaking wet from your moist skin.

"i don't think so." your voice trembled with the first vowel but you managed to regain your unbothered, callous posture right after.

"this..." she gestured at the ground and area around you — dark buildings that looked empty, yet you felt watched, in plain sight. "this is a bad place for girls like you."

you nervously cleared your throat, deciding to ignore her opinion, and continued on walking. but you could still hear her echoing footsteps.

"i think that— you shouldn't be there. and you don't want to be there." she crossed her arms.

once you gave up and turned around, you were left surprised by how pretty she was. your expectations were— well, on a way lower level. she looked masculine and you could see the curves of her muscles through her clothes, yet you weren't feeling precarious nor apprehensive by her presence anymore.

"actually," she continued, "i know that. it's painted all over your face. one glance in your direction and i already sense the discomfort."

you sharply inhaled, the air hissing in your nostrils as you mumbled an annoyed "god" under your breath. "are you always like that?"

"no." she shook her head and pursed her lips in a thin line, before realising what you meant and chuckling. "not at all. but you should be fuckin' thankful." she untangled her arms and shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans. "c'mon, what are you looking for?"

you pinched your nose bridge and closed your eyes with a huff, because why did she have to be so damn persistent and perpetual? but she seemed able to help you, so in a slightly complaining—dissenting tone you murmured your father's name.

and her stubborn smirk faded, her gaze shifted between you and the letter in your hand. "who are you?" she asked, emphasizing each syllable, as if she was talking to a child.

you were dubious and skeptical on what you should say nor should you admit the truth, you just shrugged. a hesitant, mistrustful raise of your shoulders, which even deepened the girl's frown, knitting her eyebrows together. "i dunno..."

"you can't be a sluuu— sorry, a prostitute" she thought aloud, actually considering this option.

"why?" your expression glowered as you scowled. oh, so your father is associated with call girls, how nice! "don't answer. whatever. just— take me to him."

"i can't." she defensively raised her hands. "you could be a... fuck, i don't know, a spy or something!"

"don't be stupid" you scoffed and couldn't help but roll your eyes. "i'm his daughter."

she gulped and her eyes widened. "daughter?..."

✧˖°

PART 2 IS OUT !!

#tlou ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie #ellie x you #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams x female reader

1K notes · View notes

messiahzzz · 6 months ago

Note

You’re one of the most annoying people on this site. And that really says A LOT because WOW! Shut the Fuck up about Gale wanting to be a father or not. He never says that he doesn’t want to be one. You projecting things onto him doesn’t make it Canon.

on a serious note: i’m certainly not the one that continuously brings up this topic unprompted. i personally really don’t understand the entire controversy around the topic or why fandom feels the need to rehash this conversation almost weekly. i truly believe that there’s nothing more of value to learn from it, to address, or add to it… yet fandom won’t let it rest.

to once again clarify: what i mean by “gale wanting to be a father isn’t canon” is that there is no evidence/neither hints anywhere in any of the dialogue that support the contrary. characters like h*lsin, w*ll and la*’zel have entire adoption subplots. all of them mention their children explicitly during the epilogue:

narrator: *your soul warms thinking of lily aurora ravengard, your adopted daughter. a treasure of a girl, found at the entrance of the open hand temple - one grey eye, one brown.* w*ll: ah, the girl could melt the staunchest heart. she might even have brought a smile to old withers' face! w*ll: but tonight is for us - and lily's only four months of age, besides. i promise, the temple will keep her in good care.

player: and our little hatchling? is he safe? la*'zel: of course. i have complete trust in our newest allies. xan is in fine hands tonight. la*'zel: what a wonder he is. he will be a fine warrior, if he chooses. or a poet, or an explorer, or a scholar.

h*lsin: being away from it... i cannot help but worry how they will fare in our absence. player: we'll be back before they know it. h*lsin: i hope so. the children shall miss their bedtime tale tonight - though perhaps i can glean a few new stories from our friends here, to make up for it.

even shad*wh*art has a line where she briefly mentions that children might be a possibility for her in the future.

shad*wh*art: and i get to see my parents almost every day - i need to make every moment with them count, after so much was stolen from us. but they're doing well, [...] shad*wh*art: who knows? perhaps they'll have grandchildren before long.

gale in comparison? he has none of that. he remains childfree during the entirety of the game + epilogue. in fact, his line in the epilogue that addresses the topic of grandkids is this one:

tara: this is why mrs. dekarios and i will be waiting an eternity more for grandchildren. nodecontext: self-pitying gale: psst! shoo, tara. nodecontext: shooing away tara like one would a naughty cat.

i already wrote a post about this entire discourse here [x] but to repeat myself once more: all of the dialogue that vaguely addresses the topic of children in any way in regards to gale are these snippets

player: gale… how would you feel about having another person in our relationship? gale: what, like a child? i’m not quite sure i’d consider myself father material, plus our current lifestyle isn’t exactly what i’d call settled…

gale, upon spotting oliver during their game of hide and seek: ah, i have you! just a shame i don’t want you.

gale treating the children the group comes across with respect isn’t an indicator either. this is a courtesy gale extends to everyone he meets. he’s a character that approves of a protagonist who systematically commits good deeds. whether it’s sparing animals, helping without compensation in mind, or aiding children. wanting children to be cared for… and you know… for them not to die is common etiquette that every adult should extend to a child in need. those are not “dad goals!!!” it’s quite literally just basic human decency. gale is genuinely kind and caring to everyone he meets, there is no reason why this also wouldn’t apply to children.

i often see fandom mention his encounter with mol at last light and how excited he is to talk to her. which i think greatly misinterprets the context of the scenario since he didn’t have much of a reaction to mol before either — gale is ecstatic about lanceboard. again evident by his reaction to the party finding the life-sized board during the wyrmway trials, and how he immediately offers to give tav pointers. explaining different approaches to them in enthusiastic detail if they allow him to. the man just really likes lanceboard… as well as being the smartest person in the room.

gale: ah, lanceboard! why, this might just be the highlight of our misadventures to date.

gale: lanceboard happens to be a game with which i have more than a passing familiarity. might i offer a suggestion? nodecontext: gale's a badass lanceboard player, anticipating showing off

if you want to headcanon your tav and gale raising a big family together that is more than fine and no one is stopping you. whatever you want to happen to these two after the storyline of the game is up to your respective fantasies. no one is policing you on what you should do with your own character. go wild and create whatever fan content you wish, no justification required.

yet once again, as there is no mention in canon anywhere — neither in the main game nor the epilogue — that this is something gale would ever want (whether that may mean immediately or somewhere down the line) gale wanting to be a father remains a headcanon. while gale being childfree is explicitly shown in the game, in strict comparison to other companions that either have children by the end of the game or voice the desire to (eventually) have them.

my personal preferences are of no relevance here whatsoever. i care about accurate and correct characterization and will point out inconsistencies/false information no matter the topic. i, for one, want to appreciate these characters in the way they're written, not how i ideally want them to be.

#also i can live with being annoying #at least i don’t go out of my way to send anon hate to random strangers on the internet #asks #it speaks #fandom discourse #dad!gale #bg3 #gale dekarios #bg3 meta #summed up: gale is for the cf crowd

178 notes · View notes

cherry-flavoured-thot · 1 month ago

Text

What's Left Unsaid

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Ace x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Desc: Just you and Ace pining over each other and making everyone sick of it.

There’s an elephant in the room that neither you nor Ace seem to want to address. To the passerby, nothing strange seems to be occurring between you. Instead on the outside you both appear to be really close friends, which in itself is not an issue. And if that was simply the case no one would bat an eye. But to the people who know you and him, it is most definitely not the case. And they are tired.

There have been times where Thatch has spotted you both sitting down to eat breakfast but you’re too busy staring at one another that the food seems to go cold, despite how heated your gazes were getting. To the point where he could be across the room and feel uncomfortable for the strange energy going on between the two of you. Bringing it up with Ace was a lost cause, as he’d just punch his arm and tell him to shove off because nothing was going on. “So… you and Ace?” But bringing it up with you doesn’t seem to be anymore fruitful. You pretend to act coy about the issue.

“We’re just friends, Thatch.”

“I don’t think any of my friends look at me like you two look at each other.” You were both bordering on undressing each other with your eyes, which if it was a once of occurrence, he’d leave it alone. But he’s witnessed it several days in a row. You open your mouth to retort, only for him to cut you off. “And don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.” You sigh, grimacing into your food.

“What if he doesn’t like me back?” Thatch is speechless. He’s just provided you some form of evidence that clearly Ace might be thinking about you more then just a friend, and you still aren’t sure. He’s not sure what’s got him more stumped, how you just seem to have no idea. Or the fact that two of the most reckless people he knows both appear to be shying away from confronting their feelings.

Marco, is just as perplexed when Thatch fills him in. Because he’s heard more times than he has fingers both of you flirt with one another, and some of those lines made him do a double take. It can’t be that you’re both oblivious, there’s just no way that’s the case. Not with the shared glances, incessant flirting, and how strange you both get upon any physical contact with one another. You both seem to be enabling each other, but neither daring to finally bite the bullet with it outright. And it was just starting to get irritating.

There’s nothing more annoying than trying to fill Ace in on something important, who can zone out at the best of times. When you happen to be in the vicinity, because every ounce of his attention just falls onto you. He’s not sure who’s worse, Ace, who while denies up and down what he was doing, doesn’t seem to hold much shame about his blatant staring. Or you, who will also deny it up and down, to the point of being overly flustered about the whole ordeal.

“Ace you’re seriously dragging this out.” Marco decides to voice the next time it occurs, Ace’s head snaps straight back to him. “Just confess already. You can’t really think they don’t like you? Because if I had a 100 Berries for every time you said to each other things that even some couples would blush at, I’d have enough to cover several bounties on this ship.” Ace can’t argue with that, holding his hands up defensively in defeat.

“Alright, alright, point taken.” Marco was satisfied enough to drop the subject. But made a mental note if this drags out any further to take matters into his own hands.

You both knew you were dancing around the topic. The actual admission lingering around like a cloud over head. Perhaps it was the deep-rooted fear of rejection that was stopping either of you from finally voicing it aloud. Or the wanting of finally having the other being the one to crack and finally confess. Either way, you both knew it was time to do something due to the questioning of your crewmates.

“So…” you both spoke at the same time. It was late, you were both alone together, with the words dancing in your throats. “You go first,” you and Ace laugh as you interrupt each other again, he gives you one of his signature grins before speaking.

“Would it be crazy for me to think that you like me more than a friend or crewmate?” You match his grin with one of your own.

“Hmm I don’t know; would it be crazy for me to think that you feel the same way?” A silence inserts itself of between the pair of you. You both look to one another, waiting for someone to make the final leap over the line. And upon not wanting to have another strange conversation with Thatch or Marco about the relationship status of you and Ace, you decide to do it. “I like you, Ace.” You feel relieved to finally voice it aloud, and so does he, taking your hands into his.

“I like you too,” echoing the sentiment straight back to you. Joy radiating out his features the same way heat does from his body.

“So, uh did Marco have a conversation with you about our flirting or?” Ace eventually brings up while you’re both standing there overlooking the dark ocean into the night.

“No but Thatch did bring up our um staring contests? At breakfast.” You both laugh again. “No wonder they are so over us.”

“How much do you think Marco heard? Because you said some crazy stuff-“ you’re quick to stop his sentence, recalling some of the things rather recently that he’s said to you in passing.

“Now hang on just a minute, you also said some crazy stuff, that I can’t even repeat while being sober.”

#one piece #op #one piece x reader #ace #ace x reader #portgas d ace #op ace #op ace x reader #my writing tag

73 notes · View notes

testingthewatersss · 10 months ago

Text

One day I'll get a request and keep it short, but uh, not today because this could've easily been a series. Under 4k is good for me though, so that's a win.This is my first time consciously shooting for a G/N reader in a long time so, bare with me.

Floodgates Usual Winter Solider context warnings but this is pretty tame tbh Bucky Barnes x G/N Reader Imagine 3830 words Fluff, mild angst. 18+ MDNI Requests open for a while via messages check masterpost for updated availability.

Everybody knows that Bucky is touch-starved. It's the unspoken truth that's used by everyone to excuse his irritable demeanour. It's the reason why nobody minds leaving the common rooms empty when he passes out on the couch in the middle of the day and Steve doesn't let Sam jab at him too much for how sweet he is on you.

The hope that had flourished when you'd made your relationship a little more public was quickly dying out though. When all the inhabitants noticed that Barnes was still a grouch. If anything, he was more jumpy when people got too close.

It was Bruce who suggested that the reason might be that the only person who didn't understand this blatant link between being kept isolated for the better part of a century and not tolerating mundane forms of contact might be Bucky.

After a lot of hushed discussion, Natasha was the one who decided to address it. Not being able to stand the undercurrent of gossip, but also not wanting to provoke any kind of intense reaction, she bided her time and cornered you.

"Does Barnes know he needs some skin on skin, or is he still takin' the long way round figuring it out?"

Coffee catches in your throat. You're in a Starbucks, you've just run a stupid 5k route that you hadn't wanted to and she's asking you this, now?

"Of course, he knows" You reply after a beat, "I mean, we all know, but he really knows."

She looks unsurprised, offers you a brown sugar packet and sits back on her stool.

"You know, couples-"

"Are you about to give me a sex talk?" you cut her off, humour making your lip quirk, "Please do not give me a sex talk"

"I wasn't talking about sex, we all know you're havin' plenty of that-"

You scoff at her, not bothering to ask how or why that's a topic of discussion at all.

"-I know exactly what you're talking about..." you decide to say, tone a little more serious now, "...It's delicate, Nat"

"That's why I'm talking to you" she replies, "I want to stop hearin' about it, and the only way I can get Rodgers to stop talkin' is to stop him from worryin' and the only way to do that is give him something."

You consider her words for a moment before nodding.

"He knows, I know- We all know, but it's difficult for him and I am not going to rush him into anything" You tell her, "but that doesn't mean I'm not keepin' an eye, and for what it's worth, he's gettin' better with the whole thing."

"His attitude didn't seem better this mornin'-" she counters from behind her paper cup, "He nearly Wilson put through a wall-"

"-for trying to get him to go to a couples therapist with Steve." You remind her smugly, "He told me all about it."

It's her turn to scoff then.

"Any other personal things you want to ask me?" you press, half a challenge. She grins before making her expression intensely serious-

"So, about the sex-"

You don't linger in the cafe for long, and you definitely don't run back. You call a cab, much to Romanoff's dismay. The break from the serious atmosphere of the tower has done wonders for her mood though, and by the time you make it home your arms are ladened with bags. Fast food for everyone and clothes and some new kind of tablet thing that Tony had insisted he can turn into a portable holo-deck.

Bucky is waiting in your suite.

The second you see him the conversation you'd had about his attitude seems ridiculous.

He beams up at you so wide that he gets creases by his eyes, and all he can do is chatter about everything that's happened since you left.

Steve annoyed him by out-lapping him on their run.

Wilson annoyed him, by well, breathing apparently.

He's finally figured out how to fix the dishwasher, so he doesn't have to call maintenance anymore, and he's finished packing his bag for the mission he's leaving on in the morning, and, he tells you proudly- he's made dinner.

It's some kind of soup, at least, you think it's meant to be a soup. But, whatever it is, it's good. And he's still smiling as you wash the dishes, bumping his hip against yours when you make a snarky comment about him still not using the dishwasher he's so proud of fixing.

And then he gets quiet.

You're sitting together on the couch, the same way you have been for hours, with your legs barely touching but with his warm, flesh fingers wound tightly through yours. You think about asking why he's suddenly turned mute, but then you notice the time.

"When do you leave?" You ask, stroking the back of his palm with your thumb.

"Four" he mumbles unhappily, giving your palm the lightest squeeze, "You're stayin' here, right doll? You're gonna wait for me?"

You laugh silently, pulling your legs up beside you to curl into his side.

"Don't I always?" you tease, grinning as he reaches over with his metal hand, guiding your lips to his.

"I'll be back before ten" He promises, "Steve promises"

"Oh, does he?" you murmur, lips still ghosting his, "You know he's driving Natasha crazy"

He quirks a brow, even so, close to his face you can see curiosity shining behind his eyes.

"Aparently you're a jerk because I don't give you enough skin on skin"

He rolls his eyes, laughing as your fingers find his cheek.

The second you actually touch him, though- the laughter dies. He has to focus all of his energy on not moaning at the contact.

You feel him tense and lessen the pressure, letting him move instead, pressing another kiss against your lips as he goes back to looking at you, this time, though, there's nothing but adoration behind the blue.

"you do plenty" he whispers, before moving quickly, standing and pulling you up with him, carrying you effortlessly, "I'm fine."

"I know" You hear yourself agree, although you think he'll hear the doubt in your tone, "But- if you do ever want something, you know I'm here, right?"

What Bucky wants he thinks, is totally irrelevant.

He wants to lay in your lap for hours, he wants to fall asleep and stay that way for hours because your fingers are in his hair. He wants to cry and not have to hide in a shower to do it. But you deserve better.

You deserve normal.

As normal as he can give you anyway.

Not that that's much, but he can't control that he reminds himself sternly, what he can control, however, is this.

He can keep the floodgates closed. He can do what he does best and keep it down.

He can make do with fleeting points of contact. With your hand in his, and your body in the same bed. The warmth of you is more than enough. You being there, smiling safe and lovely is more than enough.

And when he places you on the soft mattress and watches you start to tangle yourself with the covers, he's once again certain that that is all he needs.

What would I say, anyway? he thinks sadly, taking his place on the side of the bed that always seems too cold, How could I even bring that up without openin' a whole can of worms?

His cheeks burn hot with embarrassment, and as he thinks tragically about how much he wants to just reach out and feel you, his eyes start to sting.

"You doin' alright, sweetheart?" you ask, already knowing that he's not. He nods though and forces a smile you recognise.

"Tired" he mumbles unconvincingly.

Before his cheeks can get any more pink, you decide to smile back. It works to settle him. So does the way you reach out to take his hand again.

"I'll try not to wake you up" he promises quietly, "I'll see you tomorrow night"

"Tonight" You correct, looking over at the clock on his nightstand, "It's 1, you're leavin' in 3 hours, you better try and get some rest."

You don't know whether he does or not. He's gone when you wake up, reaching out for the fingers you normally fall asleep holding. He's left a note, telling you he loves you, and that he'll see you soon. And you tell FRIDAY to send him a message wishing him luck. When you don't get a reply, you decide to keep yourself busy. You order a delivery of food, which Bucky needs more than he realises, the state of his small built-in kitchen is shameful it's at best and depressing at its worst.

In all fairness, a punnet of pulmbs, some milk, 2 carrots and half a loaf of bread is far from that- but still. A stock-up isn't going to hurt anything.

And then you still haven't heard, and the tower is creepy when it's empty.

Like a school at night, you muse, walking through the walls, chattering to FRIDAY just to have some background noise.

Aside from assuring you that everyone's vital signs are fine, she can't actually do much to distract you, so in the end, you abandon her too and settle for sitting in your suite, on the bed, exactly where Bucky had left you.

You fall asleep reading and only wake up when you hear the door click open. You beam, rubbing tiredness from your eyes as you wait expectantly for him to come in and greet you.

He doesn't though. You can hear movement but it's not coming towards you, so you decide to just go to it instead.

"Hi, sweetheart-"

Your happy greeting dies as soon as you see him. Flushed with adrenaline, and tugging at his belt, which is still laden with grenades. When he finally rips it free, tossing it to the floor with such reckless abandon that you can't help but cringe, you walk towards him.

He's pulling at his vest now. Metal fingers pulling desperately at the straps that hold it in place, growing more and more frustrated as he can't quite get them loose-

"Here" you whisper, hating the look of anguish he's wearing, "Let me help"

His arm snarls as you reach out to replace his fingers with your own. But to his great surprise, you don't even flinch. You just hush out a soft breath and guide the metal palm away.

"You're fine" you promise, seeing the way he's relenting.

His brow meets the window as he leans against it, both arms falling lamely to his sides as he focuses on breathing.

On staying still and not just taking off running until his legs give way beneath him.

"You're back late" you muse, flicking a glance at the wall, where the time is being projected by what you're assuming is Tony's version of a wall clock.

11: 33

"Not too late though, huh?" you continue, knowing he likes the background noise, "Is anyone hurt?"

Bucky gives a short shake of his head.

It hurts. The movement sends daggers through his eyes. But still, he bites his tongue and tries to keep still.

He needs the vest off. He needs the layers of heavy, bulletproof padding, gone. He needs to not feel like he's dressed for battle, and he needs the ringing in his head to stop.

"Just you then" you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

"'m fine" he mutters, knowing you won't argue- especially since it's exactly what you've just told him.

You hum in quiet disagreement instead. Tugging the last of the straps free before letting the rough weighted vest fall to the ground with a dull thud that makes you wonder if you should've checked it for explosives first.

"Better?"

Your voice cuts through the pulsing in his ears, making him hyper-aware of the way he's still resting his head against the cool glass of a window of all things.

Is it better? he thinks, rolling his shoulders unhappily.

"Yeah" he murmurs, "Yeah, thank you, sugar"

And then he turns to you, wearing the fakest smile you've ever seen, and you can't help but reach out and stroke his cheek.

He flinches. He physically recoils back into the glass with a look so sad that you miss the false grin.

"They-uh" he coughs, embarrassment burning through his chest, "They shouted my words out through a speaker" he confesses, "I- I probbaly shouldn't even be here- Steve, Tony, they all, all say I'm okay, but I- I might... I, I just wanted to see you"

Your phone is already in your hand. Typing frantic questions to Natasha, to Tony and Steve and feeling your whole chest relax as replies start flooding in.

The words are deactivated, as deactived as they can be, anyway. He's not a danger, not that a different answer to that question would've changed anything, and everyone knows where he is. When he'd bolted from the Quinn-jet in irritable silence, the entire team had let him go because they knew exactly where he was going, and considering the fact that he's physically uninjured, fighting to get him to go to Med-bay would've been a waste of everyone's energy.

They still might've tried, in fact, Steve definitely would've tried, if they hadn't all been exhausted already.

When you look back up at him, your heart cracks straight down the middle.

He's just, waiting.

Eyes closed, brow on the glass,with his breath making it fog up by his face.

His back is heaving too, shining in the dim lights of the room. His back is shaking like he's crying, but his jaw is locked tight.

"What do you need, huh?" you wonder softly, not moving to touch him again, "Sweet, sweet boy- you got off that plane, and you ran- you ran all the way here, and then you stopped in here, why?"

His eyes flicker open, red and sore.

"I" he swallows, "I had to get it off"

You quirk your head, not understanding, and then you see the vest by his boots and nod.

"It hurts" he mutters to himself, "It's always hurt. I needed it off"

You know he's not talking to you, but you nod all the same, hoping that it might at the very least encourage him to keep his eyes open.

And then you realise what he's saying, and you can't keep quiet anymore.

"What hurts?" you ask softly.

His cheeks are hot again. He knows that he's embarrassed. That he should be, that it's right that he's burning with shame, but with the way his head is splintering he really doesn't care.

"The vest," he tells you quietly, "My skin, it- uh...it's always... the scars they uh... I- I needed to get it off..."

He looks at you, expecting to see a hint of something. Disgust, maybe? Or pity. What he doesn't expect, is the way you just nod again, expression understanding as you inch closer towards him.

He bites back a whimper, using all the strength he has left to not just collapse in your arms.

Keep the floodgates closed.

"Its off..." you remind him mildly, "Your home, it's off... so, what else do you need?"

Bucky blinks, sniffing to try and stop tears from forming as he stares at you.

And then, he hears you sigh, and his chest tightens so much that he can't catch a breath.

A sigh is never good. He thinks. He's done it. He's finally done it. He's done something that has made you realise he's a lost cause.

He's the lost cause.

But, when he forces himself to look back at you, wanting to memorise your face before you leave his world forever, no matter how painful it is, he sees you smiling. Leaning against the window, only inches away from him.

"I want to help" you promise softly.

A disbelieving scoff bubbles up through the tightness of his throat, and for a second, you think he looks like himself again. Even if he's a little rough around the edges.

"You did..." Bucky reminds you quietly, "I couldn't get it off, and you helped me"

The urge to roll your eyes at his gratitude is quickly tempered by the genuine affection in his tone. You settle for nodding instead.

"So what else do you need?"

This time, when your hand meets his face he shivers. Feeling something deep in his chest snap as he starts to lean back into the contact.

"C-could you..." he gulps, desperately shy now, "God, doll- could you just, touch my hair?"

"Your hair" you murmur, love drenching every word as you slowly trail your fingers up past his temple, stroking through the tangled length so gently he wants to scream.

"Please" he shudders, "don't pull-"

His frantic request chokes off incomplete, the heat in his cheeks making his jaw lock petulently.

"You don't like havin' your hair pulled?" you muse, tone light in contrast to his, "Noted."

"Does anyone?" he wonders bravely, adjusting to the slow, trailing warmth across his head.

You laugh at that, further coaxing him out of his embarrassment.

"Sure they do, Buck," you tell him conversationally, "people like all kinds of things..."

He's melting. He's sure he's physically melting into your fingers. Into the gentle tug and pull, into the wonderful, brilliant sting of human contact.

All you hear is the softest hum. It's content though, so you take it as a win.

"So since this definitely a winner..." you drawl, bringing your free hand down to his, letting him grasp your fingers in reflex, "What else do you like?"

The part of his brain that isn't purring like a cat, stuttering to a halt at your question. His eyes focus, as he blinks at you, face full of such total adoration that you feel like you should probably look away, but he's so beautiful that you can't quite manage it.

"You"

That makes you laugh, small and flattered as you shake your head.

"You've got me, Barnes." You remind him lightly, "If we could be doin' anything, anythin' in the world, right now what would we be doin?"

The smile he gives you then is the most precious one he's ever worn. Your whole body flushes with affection as he chuckles silently reaching up and pressing a kiss against the back of your hand, as you scratch your free knuckles against the back of his head.

"I have no idea" he mumbles honestly.

Your brow quirks, before you move, pivoting and opening your arms to coax him in.

He freezes, staring at you with longing as he offers a sad shake of his head-

"I can't- darlin'-" he stammers nervously, "I want to- I- I really- I-"

"You" he hears you whisper, "can do whatever you like."

He shakes his head again, stubborn this time.

"Not that" he mumbles, "Not to you"

"To me" you repeat, curious.

His lips tighten and then part, breath shallow as your thumb finds his cheek.

"I won't be able to stop" he explains, voice quiet like he's sharing a secret, "If I start, I won't ever be able to stop and you- you're-you're everythin' to me and I- I can't put that on you- because I really- I mean it- I don't-"

Your head is already shaking, your arms are moving, pulling him into your chest.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to stop" Bucky feels his words melting into your shoulder, he feels the heat of your body against his. His bare chest burning against the thin fabric of your vest. The feeling of your skin against his threatening to make his knees buckle. "I- I won't be able to stop"

You shake your head, hushing him as his resistance fades away to nothing. As he goes pliant in your arms, head falling to the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry" he whispers, "I'm so sorry"

"You're never listen" You mumble in reply, letting his hand go so that you can hold him tight against your front, "I just told you, sweetheart..."

Bucky pulls away just enough to look at you, and when you see tears brimming in his eyes, you can't help but hush him again, noting the way his hands are wound tight into the fabric you're wearing.

His lower lip pouts, he tries to avert his gaze but it doesn't work. He just can't manage to tear his eyes away from you. From the way you're looking at him, full of affection. Full of patience and kindness and-

"Didn't I just tell you, huh?" you murmur, smiling a little again, "You've got me"

He blinks, still not understanding.

So you do the only thing you can.

You kiss him. You kiss him until he pulls back, until he dips back down into your arms, tired and aching and pressing his own kisses against the skin of your throat.

"I'm not goin' anywhere" You remind him gently, "We don't ever have to stop"

We don't ever have to stop.

Your sweet words rattle through his mind all the way to the bedroom.

If it weren't for the aching in his knees and the awful cold of the room now that he's not hidden in your front, he might not've even noticed the journey.

He's too tired, now. His head aches, and his adrenaline is well and truly shot. But the hope of you, of more of the wonderful warmth of you, is more than enough to keep him moving through it.

I've done worse for less, he reminds himself with every wounded step.

We don't ever have to stop.

And then there's the bed. The edge of the bed against his calves, and he knows his hands are free and that he should be doing something but he can't think of what, no matter how hard he tries.

You remind him, your hands on his belt, your feet nudging his boots so he remembers to kick them free before finally lowering himself onto the covers.

For a minute the familiar coolness jars him. His head spins and throbs and pulses and then,

and then your fingers are back in his hair. Your arms are wrapped around him, and all he can feel is warmth.

Warmth and pressure building behind his eyes. Incredible pressure that finally spills free as his eyes overflow. As he surrenders and clings onto your back with all the strength he has left, and cries.

He sobs, silently at first, tears melting into your chest as you stroke his back. Whispering soothing words that you know he can't hear. Letting him finally just be.

And then, he's asleep. And so are you, a tangle of limbs and covers and heat. The kind of heat that makes you drowsy, that makes Bucky drowsy.

Drowsy enough to sleep through whatever nightmares were bound to have been triggered by the missions, drowsy enough to keep him that way for hours in a row. And when he does wake up, for the first time in... well, a long time- he's smiling.

236 notes · View notes

hezuart · 11 months ago

Note

Thoughts on the “Look my Way” music video? For context if you don’t know, this is a fan song that’s just animated. Paranoid DJ had written this song awhile back, though Viv did take out some lyrics and switch them up a bit. What I personally don’t like is that there’s a line in the original where Stolas mentions the “impish play thing” line, as well as acknowledges that Octavia is hurting, and Viv cut that out. The song itself also doesn’t help for the show narratively really regarding the ship of Stolitz.

OMYGOD Okay so much to talk about here. It's a BEAUTIFUL song, amazing song, and I even loved the original of it. The animation for this AMV is breathtaking, everyone did an AMAZING job on it. This is what Helluva Boss songs should sound like. I was annoyed with that one scene, albeit very pretty where Stolas and Blitz have a string attached to the pinky finger, which is an indication of soulmates. This bothers me because a soulmate is either A. someone you have been reincarnated with over the years to love or B. Someone you click with- someone who completes you. You meet in every lifetime or they are the perfect person for you. This does not fit Stolas X Blitz AT ALL. They are not perfect for each other, they are complete opposites and the entire appeal and beauty of their relationship was the fact that they were fuckbuddies! They weren't even friends! They were tied up in manipulations, classism, and power imbalances. Their relationship required a lot of growth, a lot of work, and a LOT of learning on what love actually was, how to maintain it, and how to right their wrongs like-They needed to actively explore and learn what love means. They needed to find a real connection that would actually give them chemistry. Being soulmates is a complete cop-out. (Soulmates don't rely on reincarnation, but some do- and reincarnation is not a thing for demons???) You could say I'm overthinking it and being nitpicky with this visual, but this is exactly what it is! That is a soulmate string!!! He even says "I'll grant you this mercy, this bind on our souls-" LIKE BRUH wHAT !!! I'm so mad about what their relationship has become. They were toxic but not doomed. Now they're nothing Anyway..... still very beautiful and pretty

youtube

I have friends who actually know this guy and work closely with him. Apparently, Viv was the one who asked to change the lyrics of the song because it didn't "fit her story"???????? The lyrics changed: OG: "Come now, my little impish plaything, we both made our choice" Viv: "But dearest, I know better now I must give you this choice" It makes sense why she would want this changed since this song is about Stolas actually finally being in love. But it's still very sus because we still have not addressed Stolas's classism problem that seems to fluctuate episode to episode. OG: "Is this how she'd feel? Abandoned, all alone and left to fend For herself, for some semblance of happiness that doesn't have to end?" Viv: "Is this what you feel? Scorned by a realm that cannot comprehend, What you are, so I'll grant you this mercy this bind- on our souls needs to end" Again I can understand this change because we are going off-topic with Octavia here. However, I do find these changes very suspicious, especially if she wanted the song to better "fit her story". Because these circumstances are things that I have accused Viv of retconning before. Where Stolas wasn't actually in love with Blitz from the start and only saw him as a shiny toy, an "impish little plaything". Where Stolas was actually shady in cheating on his wife and not being there for his daughter nor really understanding her. "Home doesn't feel like home anymore. You ruined it." I can understand in the context of the song why these lines would be removed, but in the context of the overall story, I'm very suspicious of it, because those are very important contexts that people try to insist are "just people's headcanons" when they literally aren't. This could be considered active proof of Vivziepop retconning her story, but I will go with the latter and stick to my logical explanations for why the lyrics were changed- gonna try to have some faith here.

~~~~

Apparently, Cherri and Angel's AMV Addict was also a fan song. In THAT video, this is the description. Fully acknowledging it was a fan song, and giving clear credit to the person who made the song.

THIS. IS THE DESCRIPTION FOR "JUST LOOK MY WAY"

NO acknowledging this is a fan-made song. NO credit for Paranoid DJ. No thank you, no praise for the original, no links to the original song- He is at least in the credits, but not the description! This is insanely shady! I don't know if this was just a mistake or not, but this is really uncool. Again, he's at least in the ending credits, but... the description would make it more obvious. Vivziepop has a history of not crediting people for their work- I don't know if she was the one who made this mistake nor not.... this is not the worst it could have been, but at the very least whoever runs the youtube should fix the description out of respect.

#vivziepop critical #helluva boss critical #ask #long post #text post #just look my way

209 notes · View notes

captainpulisic · 2 years ago

Text

you've ruined my life by not being mine - m. mount

wrote this during a severe brain rot so I hope it isn't too mid, thank you to anyone who reads & I hope you enjoy :) word count : 4.4 k gif creds to owner

mason mount is absolutely gorgeous. nothing else to say, no need to elaborate. everyone who comes across him can confirm this. he’s a god amongst mere mortals, you’re sure of it. being an intern for chelsea's social media team, you have had the privilege of crossing paths with him several times a day. all these small interactions and polite ‘hellos’ have made you smitten. you’re positive that is the case for every girl who has the honour to be the winner of his attention.

you’ve come to the conclusion that he has a gift of making anyone he's talking to feel special. his eyes never leave yours, making it known that his attention is solely on you. the real killer is that smile of his. it’s very soft and boyish, with just a hint of shyness. as if he’s as nervous to talk to you, as you are to him. that bastard. how dare he make your cheeks go deep red and hands shake just by saying ‘have a nice day’. the audacity!

he could be worn out from an extensive training session or surrounded by other important chelsea people, yet he’d always find a way to squeeze in a conversation with you. it was sweet of him, really. the fact that he was nice enough to make you feel so welcome to the family, like part of the team. he probably did it for everyone, yet it still made you feel special, nonetheless.

mason was always going out of his way to make small talk with you, to ask how your weekend had been. he assured you that once you finished uni, he was positive the club would offer you a full time position. he’d confide that your ideas and content was the best, engaging everyone from fans to the players.

‘why wouldn’t they try to keep the best when they already have them, yeah?’ he would assure you, squeezing your arm. you always felt you skin burning by the time he let go.

you find yourself in that exact situation right now.

after a particularly long week full of training, everyone was filing out of the locker room. freshly showered and exhausted, mason’s only mission in life was to get home and sleep for the next twelve hours. no agents or coaches or ‘after training, distress at a club’ plans will stop that. end of discussion.

he’s almost out the doors and into the parking lot.

well, that is until he sees you. you’re near the office doors, all smiles and cheerfulness as you talk to other people from the social media team. he’d never admit this to anyone but you have him quite smitten, too. one time he practically bumped into all his teammates when he saw you across the hallway. conor bitched to him for the next hour, annoyed at how he’d accidentally shoved him into a wall. he’d speed walk at an embarrassing pace, just to be able to say hello you, to be in your presence.

as he approached your group, your co workers left you to face him by yourself. your small fangirl crush on him was a well known topic, since they swore he fancied you back. as if, you’d blush and wave them off.

“hi,” he halted, ending his unusually fast pace. “hey, you.”

“to what do I owe the pleasure, mr mount?” you felt your grin go wide. you both laughed at the nickname. it was a recurring joke from when you had just started your internship, too starstruck and using only formal names to address the players.

the first time you had been introduced to mason, you had addressed him as ‘mr. mount’. you were scared and confused when he started to turn around and look at all the people passing behind him. you weren’t sure what you had said wrong.

“oh, ‘m sorry. I heard mr. mount and immediately thought my dad was here. please, call me mason.”

you had been a giggling mess since then and even now, you always found yourself laughing around him. on masons side, he heard your laugh that first encounter and vowed to himself he’d do anything to keep hearing it.

“I just wanted to let you know that a bunch of us are going to a club tonight,” he didn’t even know what he was saying until he had already said it. his tired limbs were yearning for his bed but his y/n crazed brain overpowered him. the chance to see you outside of the bridge was such a sweet opportunity he couldn’t pass up. “come, please?”

you had never really been invited to those club or party hangouts, they were mostly reserved for the players and their girlfriends. you’re a bit stunned, you thought he’d come over to ask you if he had to do any reshoots for last week's youtube video.

you’re both silent, waiting for your own response. your face is crimson red and he’s nervously tapping his foot. it doesn’t help that you can’t even make eye contact with him, too shy to look at his face. you’ve always found it hard to say anything directly to his pretty face. of course you want to go but you don’t want to make this into something bigger than it is. you don’t want to get your hopes up that this might be a step into seeing each other in a non work environment, like a pregame for a date?

no. what if he’s just being polite and this is a work get-together? what if he’s mistaken you with a different y/n, a cooler famous y/n?

before you can even choke out an answer, you notice a goddess type woman approaching the two of you. she’s wearing an all-access visitor pass around her neck and walking with the confidence of someone who owns the place. and her heavy gaze is set upon mason. she’s truly beautiful, like someone you’d see on the runway or a vogue cover. in a totally progressive and feminist way, you don’t like how much skin she’s showing. at least not when you’re forced wear such workplace appropriate attire, anyway. it makes you green with envy on how she looks like someone more fit for mason. now that’s the type of woman he would be seen with at the club .

“time to go home, mason?” she sounds sweet, too sweet. hearing her delicate voice call mason makes your skin crawl and heart plummet.

he quickly gravitates all of his attention on her, giving her a nod. as soon as he’s in arms reach, her delicately manicured hand is wrapping around his foreman. she doesn’t even spare you a glance. she begins to pull him away from your shared spot, causing your mood to significantly dampen.

“y/n,” mason says, pulling you out of your self wallowing thoughts. he’s giving you that award winning, boyish smile. “you’ll be there tonight, right?”

his tone is so soft and sincere. it warms your heart, even as that beautiful woman is clinging to his arm.

you brave a fake smile, “i’ll try, mr. mount.”

he’s only able to smile in response, the probable supermodel eagerly tugging him out the door. you see her pull out keys from her purse, as he, ever the gentleman, opens the door for them.

you feel a fool. mason is one of the most sought out men in the country. he’s sweet and handsome and funny and probably has a thousand girls at his disposal. your chances with him are next to zero. you’ve told yourself countless times to be content with the little attention you get from him. polite conversation and shy smiles is all you’ll ever get from him and that's totally fine. it has to be, anyway.

you’re stupid and idiotic. very stupid and idiotic. you knew you shouldn’t have showed up to the club, it wasn’t your place to be here. you weren’t even planning on actually showing, preferring to spend the night at your apartment, yearning for your unreciprocated crush on a certain footballer. yet, as you were heading out of the building for the end of the work week, you bumped into a couple of the other players. you had been too busy wishing it was you asking mason if he was ready to go home, you hadn’t heard them calling after you.

all of the players were fond of you, fond of the cheeriness and lovely attitude you brought to the bridge. and you were equally as fond of them. so, when they asked if you wanted to join everyone else at the club, you said yes. you figured you’d make yourself miserable and see mason with his supermodel friend the entire night. yeah, you loved the pain.

being at said club now, you regret your decision. the music is too loud and the strobe lights are giving you a headache. everyone else has been nice enough with some small talk when passing by you, except for mason who was nowhere to be found.

an hour passes by, and you’ve lost count of all the drinks you’ve taken. it’s pathetic to admit that all you’ve done is think of mason. how can someone so beautiful make you feel so sad?

you finish the remnants of your drink and decide to head back home. coming here was a mistake and the original person who asked you to come didn’t even bother to show up. the bigger mistake though, is how you might have underestimated how many drinks you’d gone through in your short time here. you’re barely out of the main room and in the lobby when your vision begins to get blurry. your balance is wobbly and you’re quickly reaching to support yourself against a wall.

you’re not sure how long you’re in that position. trying to somewhat sober up, you wonder how difficult it’d be to go back into the main room and find one of the players to help you.

would you even be able to recognize any of them? you were royally screwed.

your train of thought is broken when you see someone on the other end of the room relentlessly pacing. you’re only able to make out their moving outline, they look nervous. you disoriented state only hears them mumbling, as if they were talking themselves up.

it endears you. it reminds you of mason, you’ve caught him doing the same before any big game. come to think of it, the figure looks a lot like masons. same build and same pretty hair at the top of their head. plus, the jacket they’re wearing looks a lot like the one you once told mason you loved. that was months ago, though. surely he hadn’t remembered you’d said that.

wait.

it is mason.

mason.

oh.

he sees you right after, his pacing coming to an abrupt stop. not having noticed your intoxicated state, he’s quick to approach you. “y/n?”

your brain isn’t on your side tonight. your mouth speaks the first words that come to mind, “hey there, gorgeous.”

“hi, love.” his smile is instant as his gaze fixes upon your face. He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he’s always had. you adored his beautiful prince like hair. it looks as it had been perfectly styled at one point, now it was disheveled from endless tugging and fixing. he frowns when he realises you’re leaning next to the exit door. “are you leaving? I was just heading in there to see you.”

instead of responding, you try to take another step towards the exit. this is too much for you. on a good day, you’re barely able to handle being in his intoxicating presence. in your current state? you can feel him taking up every atom and particle surrounding you.

you stumble and his reflexes are quick to hold you up. as if this is a regular occurence, your hands instantly find their way onto his chest.

oh my god, you scream in your head. mason mount has his hands wrapped around my waist. my skin is burning where he’s touching me, please never let go.

“i’m okay, i’m okay,” you mumble.

“having too much fun, yeah?”

you’re tempted to lie to him. you want to tell him that you had the best night of your life without him, that you hadn’t even noticed his absence. you want to tell him that you drank too much because you were having too much fun with other guys.

you’re tempted to tell him the truth, too. you want to tell him that you were having the worst night of your life, that you drank to forget that he was probably having fun with his supermodel girlfriend. you want to tell him that it should be you asking him if he’s ready to go home, after a long day of work. while you’re at it, you think of telling him that his face is so infuriatingly gorgeous that it’s all you ever think about.

would he even care?

you feel dizzier with the way he’s looking at you with those pretty, concerned eyes. mason has always had a knack for making you blush with just a look but tonight it’s stronger. all you want to do is kiss him silly. these stupid feelings irk you, really.

“stop looking at me like that!” you take your hands off his chest and your fingers immediately miss the contact. you lightly shove him, “god, you make me so fucking mad sometimes.”

now mason is confused. the corner of his mouth dips, “i’m sorry, love. I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“oh, ‘i’m sorry, love. I don’t know what I did wrong’, bite me!” you try your best to copy his accent. you know you’re acting childish, but you can’t help it. common sense left you long ago and now is the only time you can tell him exactly how you feel. “you have no idea how infuriating you are.”

“y/n,” he tries to tilt your head up by your chin. “look at me.”

“please stop, i’m begging you,” you whine. you know you resemble a spoiled child, but you’re on a roll. “don’t you know its actually impossible to look at you? your face is so pretty and I never know what to say when you look at me and you’re always looking at me. can you imagine what that does to me?”

“yeah, well how do you know i’m always looking at you?” he muses. “that’d have to mean you’re always looking at me, too.”

at this point, mason finds the situation very entertaining. he can’t help but laugh. he had arrived at the club twenty minutes ago, trying to build up the courage to walk in there and find you. he still wasn’t even sure if you’d shown, never have given him a real answer. being ever the optimist, he was hopeful you’d be in there waiting for him. he had planned that tonight was the night he’d confess his feelings for you, that he’d ask you out on a proper date.

fear of rejection got the better of him and he had psyched himself out. so, there he was. pacing back and forth, working up the courage to walk into the main room and tell you that he was crazy for you. he was just hoping you felt the same way, that you’d give him a chance.

the possibility of finding you drunk out of your mind, babbling about how pretty you found his face, had never crossed his mind. this was way better than him stuttering out his feelings for you. mason could spend the entire night in this position, longer, if it meant more time next to you. he’s not cruel, though. he knows he’d be proper embarrassed if the roles were reversed, he doesn’t want you to regret whatever drunken thing you say to him. plus, if you’re going to call him pretty, he wants you to be sober for it. “hey, lets go home, yeah?”

hearing those words are like a trigger to you, a switch that releases the impending dam of tears in your eyes. why can’t he tell you those words under different circumstances?

“stop,” you’re sputtering out. “this is hurting me too much.”

he lets go of your waist right away, leaning you back against the wall. you miss his touch immediately. “what is? do you want to stay?”

continuing your drunk tantrum, “you don’t get it!”

“y/n, help me understand.” he’s trying his best to wipe the tears on your cheeks but you’re shaking your head too much. you refuse to look at him, he’s desperately trying to meet your eyes. “what don’t I get?”

“that this is all your fault,” your tears can’t stop. you hate how you can hear yourself slurring your words. “you made me feel this way!”

“what way?”

you make dramatic arm gestures of the space between the two of you, “this way, idiot!”

mason is more confused than ever. nonetheless, he surrenders and apologizes for making you feel ‘that way’. you’re too distracted repeating a slurred ‘you should be’, that you don’t notice that he’s steered you out of the club and to his car.

“c’mon along now, love.” mason isn’t sure how the night is going. on one hand, he’s with you and that's all he’s wanted for the longest time. on the other hand, he’s not having the easiest time trying to unlock the passenger's seat, while simultaneously making sure you don’t stumble onto the pavement. one things for sure, he’s not complaining on how you’re holding onto his arm for dear life. plus, you keep whispering something into his ear, and it keeps making him blush.

gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous.

you don’t stop repeating the word to him, as if it's a secret only the two of you could know. you whisper into him once more, as he finally opens the car door and places you inside. the long, eventful night had started to take a toll on your body, your body lazily slumped into the passenger's seat.

“you really do have a pretty face,” you whisper. you’re much more calm now and the tears have stopped. even in your state, the bittersweet thoughts won’t stop. he has the prettiest face you’ve ever seen, he’s the sweetest boy you’ve ever met. but he’s not yours, he’s someone else's. before the tears can return, you’re distracted because you have to tell him his face is beautiful but you had been using a different word seconds ago. what was it? its at the tip of your tongue. “it’s like… what's the word? what word was I saying?”

he spares you a quick glance as he buckles your seatbelt. teasingly, “gorgeous?”

“yeah,” you lazily smile. it’s the last thing you say before the sound of the engine lulls you to sleep, “it’s gorgeous.”

the headache is already making you wish you were dead as soon as you open your eyes. before you can tell yourself off for drinking way more than you should’ve, you begin to panic.

this is not your bed.

this is not your room.

that is not your glass full of water on the nightstand that is not yours.

you’re definitely going to scream when you look down and find yourself adorning a large, unfamiliar shirt and shorts. even though you can’t see yourself, you’re sure your face is red with embarrassment.

please don’t tell me I hooked up with some rando, you silently beg any god that will listen.

in this scenario, you’d usually pick up your clothes and sneak out before getting caught but, where the hell are your clothes? and whos fucking house is this?

stumbling into the hallway, you feel as disoriented as you did when you left the club last night. you wish you could remember who you left the club with, too.

finding your way through the maze of this large house, you come face to face with some picture frames decorating the wall. the face you see in these frames makes you wish it was actually some random guy house you were in. instead, you’re greeted by mason-fucking-mounts framed and pretty face.

you hear him before you actually see him. you hear a commotion from the other end of the hallway. you’re tempted to turn around and find the exit instead of facing him. you don’t know what happened last night and you’d rather not find out.

alas, your feet involuntarily move towards the sound and you’re met with mason sitting on his sofa. the television is on but you can faintly hear him mumbling to himself. his leg is nervously bouncing, and his eyes never waver from the clock on the wall opposite of you. unsure of what to do, you clear your throat.

you fear he’ll get whiplash from how quickly he turned his head.

“oh, you’re awake,” mason motions you to come closer to him, a smile appearing on his face. he reaches for your arm, pulling you down to sit next to him. he points at the two mugs on the centre table, “I made you some tea, did you drink the water I left you?”

“mason, what happened last night?” you don't know why you’re whispering, but you are. unconsciously, you tug the hem of his oversized shirt you’re wearing.

“oh, no no no,” he begins to sputter out. “we didn’t do anything, don’t worry!”

you’re only slightly disappointed.

mason continues, “I think you had too much last night, you were pretty out of it when I saw you.”

you can’t meet his eyes, “oh god, i’m so embarrassed.”

“don’t be!” he’s quick to reassure you. “you said some pretty great stuff when I bumped into you but still, better not to leave you alone, ‘figured you’d need help leaving so I decided to help you home. I didn’t actually know your address so I brought you here. I left you to change by yourself and I slept on the couch, don’t worry.”

“oh,” you look away from him. “i’m sorry, I bet your girlfriend didn’t like that you left her to help me. sorry for ruining your night.”

“girlfriend?” he looks more puzzled than you look sheepish.

this is the last conversation you want to be having, especially hungover. you look down at the floor. “yeah, that stunning supermodel who drove you guys ‘home’ yesterday.”

the bastard has the nerve to laugh at this. seeing your not-so-pleased face, the laugh turns into an awkward cough. “sheryl isn’t my girlfriend. she’s part of the new partnership promotion, shouldn’t you know that? didn’t your team arrange everything?”

your answer without missing a beat, “we didn’t have any involvement in it, ‘above our paygrade or something’. i’d never seen her before.”

“oh, well she’s just part of the campaign, she’s not my girlfriend. the only reason she drove me home was because my car broke down at the film set and she offered to drive me to the bridge and home afterwards. she’s nice but ‘m not interested in her like that.” your heart had just mended a smidge but it was cracking all over again when mason added, “plus, I fancy someone else.”

“cheers.” you give him your best half assed smile. of course he had his heart set on someone, you should be happy for him. it’s not like you ever really had a chance, you’re only hoping you hadn’t said anything too incriminating last night. its better if you leave right now, with what dignity you have left, and act as if none of this ever happened. you can go back to polite conversations at the bridge and he can pine over his crush. you can only imagine how stunning she is. if mason wasn’t falling onto his knees for the goddess that sheryl was, this other girl must be aphrodite herself.

“yeah,” mason is fully grinning now. “she’s just the best person. I don’t think she knows how stupidly obsessed I am with her, I do anything I can just for the chance to talk to her and be around her. I used to be too scared to make a move, because I didn’t think she’d feel the same.”

she’s an idiot if she doesn’t, you miserably think.

mason rambles on, “I think all my mates know how I feel. i’m sure they’re just waiting for me to tell her, so they don’t have to hear me talk about ‘how pretty she looked today’ anymore. I say she looks pretty but I think there's a better word.”

you can only smile in return, not trusting your voice to congratulate him on this gem he’s found.

“you know,” mason cracks a smile, “i think she’s just so gorgeous.”

“what did you just say?” your eyes snap up to meet his. hearing him say those words trigger blurbs of last night to come back to you. you remember the drinking and the crying and the tantrum and repeatedly calling mason gorgeous. now you’re certain you’ll have to disappear off the face of the earth. shaking your head, “oh god, are you making fun of me?”

“of course not.” mason is in utter disbelief. is he not being clear enough? “christ y/n, are you really going to make me get on my knees? it’s you, i’ve been crazy for you for so long. I wasn’t sure if you felt the same but i’m hoping last night was some indication that you do.”

you can’t believe a word you’re hearing. now you’re sure you drank too much last night and got alcohol poisoning. you’re probably laying in the hospital and having these deluded fantasies of mason saying he fancies you. that is the only way this can be happening.

“y/n, love.” his smile never falters but you can hear the anxiousness in his tone. here he was, being vulnerable and wearing his heart on his sleeve. he was just waiting for you to do the same for him. he was waiting for you to do what you’ve been doing for months now. what you both had been doing, just secretly and shyly. he reaches out to squeeze your hand, “please say something.”

you’re sure you might start crying again. happy tears this time. “god mason, of course I like you. my heart has been yours, pathetically and desperately and always.”

he doesn’t respond, choosing to finally kiss you instead. it’s better than either of you could have imagined, and you know his heart is yours just as much as yours is his.

authors note 2.0 : if I had a nickel for every time I wrote a mason fic where its an unrequited love and he confesses that he loves reader after reader sees him w some girl, I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but its still weird that it happened twice (idk im predictable ig)

#mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount fluff #mason mount angst

607 notes · View notes

viviennevermillion · 1 year ago

Text

poisoned veins

✧ notes: first work for my "autumn remedies" event! i'm doing the commonly triggering topics first before moving on to my more soft prompts. stay safe while going out and look out for your friends as well. here's an article about how to recognize drink spiking if it happens to you or a friend and what to do in this situation.

✧ synopsis: sampo protects you and takes you to natasha's clinic after your drink has been spiked, waiting in worry for you to wake up. (hurt/comfort), 3.1k words

✧ now playing: bad things — breathe

✧ warnings: drugging, medical emergency, vomiting, seizure, needles

Entertainment was always sparse in a place like the Belobog Underworld. It was almost a little ironic that a Masked Fool like Sampo found enough amusement in a place where most people spent their free time in fight club and meeting up in backalley taverns. That's what pretty much every establishment in Boulder Town was like in the late evenings. You could hardly expect a fancy restaurant in a community that had been sealed off and short on resources for such a long time. But people still made the best of it. Most bars and taverns had enjoyable menus, so people didn't mind coming back on their weekends. It was not Epsilon XII and hardly comparable to the joyful atmosphere Sampo knew from the Masked Fools taverns, but it was the perfect place to get some inspiration for a new scam.

He didn't expect to find you there when he entered the tavern late at night. He had helped Wildfire out with procuring a couple of necessary items and had gotten back late; deciding he wasn't in the mood for half-burnt scrambled eggs that he tried to make while tired and with a hardly commendable attention span. So take-out food was the way to go tonight. He sat down on the stool next to you at the bar. "Hey, fam!", he addressed you with a cheerful smile on his face, "do you come here often?"

You chuckled at his remark and took a sip from your drink. "Why does this sound like a cheap pick-up line?", you raised an eyebrow at him as Sampo ordered the weirdest food on the menu. "It's not, I swear!", he held up his hands defensively and laughed, "I was just curious, is all." You shrugged. "Well, to answer your question, I don't really go to places like this all that often but I was in the area and I really needed a drink. I'm exhausted." Sampo didn't know what you had been doing beforehand, but he could guess that it probably had something to do with helping another poor soul in need or just not understanding what an appropriate time to stop work was. A common pattern around here, really.

"What a coincidence, I just came here for a meal as well", he smiled at you but was a bit annoyed about having to yell over all the background noise. He felt like you were a little uncomfortable with the atmosphere at the bar. "You don't seem to like the place a lot", he remarked, earning a glare from the bartender who probably thought it was out of place for someone to declare loudly that a person didn't like his establishment. But you seemed almost relieved that someone pointed it out. "Yeah it just isn't as safe and comfortable as I'm used to", you nodded, taking another sip of the drink, "had to shoo away some idiots who were getting a little too comfortable being in my personal space before you arrived."

Sampo took his plate with the chocolate sauce burrito into his hands and got up from the stool as soon as it was brought to him. "Well, if you need their money as compensation, you know where to find me", he winked and nodded his head towards the front door, "wanna sit outside where it's a little more quiet?" Pondering on his words, you noticed you were more than ready to leave this place.

So you followed Sampo Koski to sit on a small bench under a lamp post across from the tavern.

There were a few guests outside and Sampo kept his distance from them as he walked through the dining area. Meanwhile you seemed to struggle a little. "Watch where you're going", an older woman hissed as Sampo turned back and saw you getting a little dizzy, bumping into the sitting customer and causing her to let go of her fork which promptly dropped down to the floor. The waiter made his way inside to get her a new one. "Sorry...", you mumbled and seemed a little bit out of it.

Sampo walked back to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder for support, guiding you over to the bench. "Don't need to hold onto you, really", you sighed and sat down, your words sounding a little bit slurred. He wondered how much you had to drink. "Friend, are you doing okay?", he asked with a smile on his face. "Mmmh...", you replied, feeling the wooden surface under your hand as you sat down, almost missing the bench a couple of times, "...just a little tired."

Sampo raised an eyebrow and there was a look of concern on his face but he brushed it off. He knew how a person could get with enough sleep deprivation. Besides, he was there to look after you when you got too drowsy. It was late and he made a mental note to walk you home when the time came. For now though, he thought he'd just sit under the moonlight with you for a while, letting you take in the fresh air and clear your senses. Maybe he'd get to talk with you a little bit and finally find the courage to ask you out. He had done so a couple times, always hiding his true feelings behind his goofy facade. You had thought he was joking and he didn't have it in him to correct you thus far. He couldn't blame you, really.

The downside of being a jester could very well be that people struggled to see that there was a person with feelings just like everyone else underneath the mask. Sampo gazed up to the stars with a helpless smile on his face. He remembered when he made you laugh and how his first thought had been that maybe this had been the reaction he had been looking for all along when he committed to his shenanigans. That seeing you giggle about his endeavors made it worth running from the Silvermane Guards every once in a while. Ever since the border between the underworld and the overworld was reopened, they had been patrolling in Boulder Town as well, which made Sampo's line of work even more difficult. He wondered if you could love someone who had an arrest warrant on his back. Perhaps he'd always be a coward when it came to letting you see what was in his heart, he mused.

"Well, maybe it's time to head back for us. It isn't long until the night patrol passes through here and I wouldn't want to run into the guards tonight. How about I walk you back home?", he sighed but his heart seemed to stop for a second when he looked at you again. You were slouching, your hand pressed to your head and Sampo noted that you looked a little sick. "Y/n?", he called out your name and tapped your shoulder multiple times. You were unresponsive. "Y/n?", he tried again and grasped your shaking hand as you leaned over to your side to empty your stomach into the trashcan next to you. You missed.

"Hey, maybe we should stop by Natasha's clinic before we get you home, alright?", he spoke softly but there was worry evident in his voice, "you don't look like you're doing too well..."

Sampo saw you reach for the drink next to you with unsteady hands, struggling to hold onto the glass as you lifted it to your mouth. A realization seemed to cross Sampo's mind. He took the beverage from your hands before you could take another sip. Something inside you seemed to protest, and you tried to reach for the glass again in confusion, knocking it out of his fingers by accident.

It fell to the floor with a loud shattering sound, startling you. Sampo saw tears forming in your eyes from the shock. You seemed scared and confused but unable to communicate. "Come on, let's get you to a doctor", Sampo whispered in a comforting voice, helping you up, "I'm sure someone will clean this up, don't worry about it. Can you walk?"

He got his answer when you collapsed and your legs gave in. Luckily, Sampo was fast enough to catch you before your head hit the pavement. You stared up with wide eyes but didn't seem to look at anything in particular. It was like you were staring right past him. Your muscles tensed and you tried to point at something that Sampo couldn't see. He called out your name a couple more times in panic, gently tapping your cheek multiple times as if hoping you would just snap out of it. His heart had sunken in his chest and a shiver ran down his spine, seemingly freezing his bones. You looked like consciousness had left you; clenching your jaw and moving it like you were chewing on something.

Sampo swallowed his fear and picked you up, ignoring the concerned stares of the nearby tavern guests. Natasha's clinic was only a few streets away from here. He could make it in 5 minutes if he ran. Running with you in his arms proved to be a challenge as your body continued writhing. The movements reminded Sampo of a new-born baby tossing and turning in the crib and grasping for nothing in particular. Definitely not something that should be happening to you.

You looked dead inside. The image sent a feeling of panic through Sampo's heart and he was hoping his own legs wouldn't give in due to the shock. He needed to be strong for you now. Memories flashed through his mind of the last time he had met you, grabbing a coffee with you in the overworld and joking around about his newest scam. Everything had seemed like fun and games during a time where the possibility of losing you had never crossed his mind. But now it did. And it terrified him. As the cold air of the night seemed to burn in his lungs as he kept running, a quiet voice inside him wondered what would happen if he never got to see your smile again. He could only guess at what had put you in this state but he didn't know what it actually meant for your health. Were you going to see the dawn? Were you going to stay like this? He probably shouldn't think about that for now, he mused.

He opened the door to Natasha's clinic with such force that it sounded like he had kicked it down as he called out for the underworld doctor. He recognized her by the sound of her heels on the floor as she made her way towards him. "Sampo Koski, how many times have I told you to keep your voice down in my hospital-", Natasha stopped in her tracks when she saw Sampo holding you like this, trying to keep you still as to not drop you, "oh god." She hurried over to the emergency section of the clinic and got a stretcher ready for you. "Put them down here", she instructed Sampo, who carefully lowered you onto the stretcher. Natasha noticed there were tears in his eyes and he was shaking. She had never seen him this concerned about anybody.

"Will they be okay?", Sampo bit his lip and tried to calm down, taking deep breaths while simultaneously doing his best to keep your arms and legs on the bed so you wouldn't hit them against something and injure yourself. "Probably", Natasha calmed him down and brought her medical equipment to your bedside, "I've had cases like this before and so far none of them died on me, so have a little faith, okay?" Sampo nodded. "Would you help me keep their arm still? I need to take a blood sample", she asked him. He firmly but gently pinned your arm down with both hands while Natasha took a sample of your blood and then put you on an IV. She brought the tube with your blood to the laboratory while Sampo held your hand in his to make sure you didn't move your arm too much with the catheter in it.

Seeing you writhing on the stretcher made his heart break. Neither trying to comfort you with his words nor swearing that whoever did this to you was going to pay for it seemed to bring you back to him. He felt helpless. The time Natasha took to get results from the blood test, administer medicine to you and ultimately cause your body to relax again felt like an eternity to him. It eventually just looked like you were sleeping, which allowed Sampo to calm down as well. "They need rest now", Natasha said eventually, "I need to attend to the other patients but you can stay here if you'd like to... though I do have the feeling you wouldn't leave even if I kicked you out." She gave him an encouraging smile, having noticed how much you meant to him. Sampo just smiled back weakly and let her continue with her duty as a physician.

When you woke up your head hurt. You felt confused and didn't know where you were. Images flashed through your mind of you talking to Sampo at the bar counter. That was the last thing you remembered. So it was confusing to you to open your eyes and find yourself in a hospital bed with a catheter in your arm and an annoying beeping sound coming from the machine next to you. Natasha had noticed you had woken up and came over to your bed.

"I see you're awake", she remarked with a soft voice and sat down on a chair beside you, "how do you feel?"

You cleared your throat and noticed how dry your mouth felt. Natasha already had a glass of water ready for you. "Can you hold it?", she asked and carefully handed it to you, keeping her hand on the bottom of the glass in case you dropped it. You managed to hold onto it and take a few sips from the water. "Thank you", you mumbled with a weak voice and sat up, feeling a bit of your strength return already, so you kept drinking.

Natasha allowed you to take your time to gather yourself. "So... how did I end up here?", you asked, your voice still sounding a little hoarse. Natasha sighed. "What's the last thing you remember?", she asked you. You took a moment to reply. "I was sitting at the bar counter, talking to Sampo", you explained and chuckled weakly, "he ordered this horrible chocolate sauce burrito... seriously who eats something like that?" A small smile found its way onto Natasha's face. "So, what happened?", you asked quietly.

"Well... it seems someone mixed something into your drink...", she started, seeing your eyes widen, "nothing more happened but you collapsed in front of the tavern and had a seizure. Sampo brought you into my clinic." "Oh...", you mouthed, your thoughts scrambled all over the place as you tried to process what Natasha just said. She nodded towards the other side of your bed and your eyes followed her gesture, finding Sampo passed out on a chair next to you with his crossed arms and head on your nightstand and a blanket draped over him. He was drooling a little and even though he was asleep, you could tell he seemed exhausted.

"He stayed here the whole night", Natasha told you, "...refused to leave your side even when the guards wanted to take him into custody because they suspected he did it." "He didn't", you retorted immediately and Natasha stopped you. "I know. They found that out after investigating the tavern and hearing from other witnesses that you had that drink before Sampo even entered the tavern." You sighed with relief. The last thing you wanted was for the man who brought you here and made sure you got the medical treatment you needed to be arrested.

"Honestly, I've never seen Sampo so scared before", Natasha remarked, "he looked like he had seen a ghost." Your hand reached for your sleeping companion and your fingertips gently carded through his dark blue strands of hair, stirring him awake in the process. Sampo yawned and opened his eyes with a tired expression but as soon as they met yours, he felt wide awake once more. "You're alive!", he exclaimed with a relieved smile on his face and reached for your hand, holding it in his own, "Sampo Koski was so worried about you!" You squeezed his hand. "Thank you for looking out for me."

"There's absolutely nothing to thank", he told you, sounding more sincere than you had ever heard him, "I'm sorry I couldn't do more..." Those last words were more of a whisper but you picked up on them anyway. "You did everything you could", you insisted as Natasha did some further testing to make sure everything about your condition was stable.

"You're going to need to stay here for further testing for now", she explained to you, "you will likely be fine but it's best for you to remain in the hospital and be monitored for today." You nodded. "Don't hesitate to call out to me if you need anything", Natasha continued, "as for everything else, I'm sure Sampo doesn't mind keeping you company while you're here." You looked over to him and he nodded to confirm what Natasha had said. "If you don't mind, of course", he added awkwardly. "I don't", you reassured him and held onto his hand.

Sampo remained by your bedside until you were discharged in the evening, aside from the time he went out to get lunch for the two of you, surprising you with a meal you had mentioned liking. He was ready to answer any question you had about the time when you were unconscious and the things amnesia has made you forget. He made sure to let you know that whenever you needed to talk or just didn't want to be alone after this, he'd be only one call or text away. Whether he had a 'business meeting' or not, according to his words. He doubted he fully knew how to deal with the situation but he swore he would do his best to make sure you'd be okay. You didn't know where the future would take you and how this situation would affect you in the times to come, but you found comfort in the fact that, come what may, you wouldn't have to deal with it alone. Perhaps that was all the confirmation you needed to understand how much you meant to Sampo. Maybe words weren't even needed anymore...

if you liked this fic, keep an eye out for the other works i have scheduled this month. reblogs and comments are appreciated! 👍🏻

any support for my event would be greatly appreciated! 💕

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #sampo x reader #sampo koski #sampo koski x reader #sampo koski x you #sampo x you #sampo #hsr sampo #hsr #honkai star rail #honkai star rail sampo

217 notes · View notes

f4iry-bell · 1 month ago

Text

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 | 2

pairing: jameson hawthorne x nerd/good girl reader

summary: summary: who would have guessed taking an unwanted picture of her could lead to that tense moment? more than that, who would have thought it would get his attention to make a deal? and guys like him drain a person inside out when are interested in you.

series taglist: @clarissaweasley-10 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07 @elysianwayy77 @lyra-kane @bewitchingkisses @zenikswaffleshop @off-to-the-r4ces @jamcarven

permanent taglist (for jameson): @clarissaweasley-10 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07 @elysianwayy77

warning: edges????

word count: 1.5k

a/n: I'm so sorry, i wrote half of it during my exam week. next part will be better!!!😞

masterlist | series masterlist

← part 1

After making their deal official by shaking their hands, Jameson immediately asked for her number. She was hesitant to give it to him, even suggesting that he'd accept her email address instead. Jameson made fun of her, and convinced her to give her number. She felt insulted when he made fun of her. She knows people do make fun of her behind her back but none of them really did it in front of her face.

“Is that what you're going to save me?” She rolled her eyes, and pushed back her glasses.

It read; Front Row Princess.

“I’m not wrong, am I?” She wished she took boxing lessons so she knew how to throw an actual punch. Because his smirk was annoying to the point she actually wanted to punch him.

“Well then, I'll save you as The Most Privileged White Boy of the Century.” She raised both her eyebrows, and added. “I'm late for my next class, so bye.”

Jameson just laughed at her comment. “Wait. Talk to me.”

“I just said I'm late. Are you deaf?” She looked pissed, she hates it when people act like one's words matter nothing.

“No. I did hear you. That's why I'm asking you to talk to me. Let's start from now, you go late to class. It'll be a different experience to enter a room full of students, or walking in the hallway with barely any students.” Instead of smirking he gave her a friendly smile this time.

“No, I'll start tomorrow.”

“You won't. Start today. Right now.”

“I don't want to be late to class. Everybody will stare at me, and God the whispers. I don't want my professor to be disappointed.” She blinked rapidly when she was talking.

“Your professor won't be disappointed. You still have time, just be 5 minutes late. Won't hurt a fly. And who cares what those whispers say? Don't you have a project you have to work on?”

She was quiet, Jameson had a victory smile. She can't accept that she is wrong, especially when she's with him.

“Let's chat. I'll go first. I like insane rides and speed because of the adrenaline rush. It gives me pure joy.” Jameson sat down on the floor.

“Uh…cool.” What she really wanted to say was ‘freak’ or ‘weirdo’.

“Now tell me something about you.”

“Uh…I don't like heights.” She confessed. “Ironic, I know.” She pointed at the edge of the rooftop.

“No wonder you got so scared when I came. You probably thought you were about to fall.” He chuckled at the memory of her jerking up.

“I could have fallen. Don't do that to me or anyone, it's not safe.”

“Okay, miss right.” He rolled his eyes.

“I’m serious.”

“Alright, change of topic, what's your favourite pizza topping!?” He asked.

She sighed, this boy can never take anything seriously, why did she let him help her? Maybe it's his face, and how pervasive he was, or his charm. She wonders how she is going to keep up with him, because they are two different species.

“I don't like this.” She said on the other side of the call while sitting on her dorm bed. “I could get in serious trouble if I sneak out. New rule; you help me but without getting me into trouble.” She told him.

“You’re not sneaking out, just get a gate pass saying you have to meet a family member for dinner and you'll be late tonight.”

“I’m not good at lying.”

“Then I'll lie for you.”

“How will you do that, genius?”

“I'll tell the dormitory incharge that I'm your boyfriend, and we both are meeting your parents so my dear girlfriend might be late by just half an hour.”

“No! You're not saying that.”

“Then the first option is.”

“Fine. But will you at least tell me ‘Out of the Bubble Experience’ am I going to have?” She asked.

“Why? So you can either be mentally prepared or say ‘I’m not going to do it’? No way. Second lesson; Live in the moment.”

“I- I wasn't going to do either of those.” She frowned at how he was quick to read her mind from kilometres away.

“Sure. I'll meet you outside where I told you at 8:30PM. Don't be late, princess.”

“Now what?” She asked. She was wearing a normal red shirt, and a cardigan over it paired with flared jeans.

“We're going on a mini drive, mini that will only take an hour.”

“An hour?!”

“Just an hour.”

Most of the car ride was “where are we going?”, “are we there yet?”, “just tell me where!” and some music, Jameson asked her if she wanted to play any music of her choice but she knows that he'll judge her music taste so she listens to his stupid fuckboy music.

After an hour exactly he stopped a little away from their destination, he got out of the car to open the door for her but she was already out, and neither of them commented on it. Jameson thought she wasn't aware that he came to her side to open the door, and just let it be.

“What now?” She asked him, raising her shoulders.

“This is the part where you say “Is this the part where you kill me?”” She can see his cheeky smile through the moonlight, and just glared at him. “Alright, so we're walking half a kilometre, is that okay?”

“Yeah, but why?”

“What's the point of coming out on a night like this if not to take a walk?” He said as he started walking in reverse.

They were at the top of a hill, it was high, and the side Jameson was walking in reverse had an edge. He took slow steps towards the edge, there was a foot tall cement railing that was there at the edge, which he could easily trip over. It was about a foot thick as well.

“Stop.” She demanded but he kept going.

“I won't fall, princess. Relax, there's a railing.”

“You could trip over it.”

“Nah, my plan was to walk on it but seeing the fear in your eyes I think only I'll be doing it.”

“You what?!” She rushed over to him to make him stop walking backwards. Her hands reached for him to stop, as soon as they made physical contact, Jameson paused for a moment, and only a moment because he knew if he stopped she'd stop touching him. Like he predicted she tried to stop him by tugging his arms. Although there was a barrier of fabrics between them, Jameson still felt the electric touch that they write about. He finally stopped once he reached the railing, he turned away, and then sat on it then put his legs to the other side where they were dangling down.

“Jameson!” She let go of his hand once he stopped but boy did she not expect him to do that.

“Join me, we are about 90 feet high.”

“90? No way I'm sitting there! God, can you just get off of it please?” When Jameson looked at her she was genuinely worried.

“Are you worried that I'm going to fall?”

“Yes!”

“I won't. Now join me. You're missing out, seriously. If you want I'll hold your hands.” He was teasing her about holding her hand but a part of him actually wanted to hold her hand. “Come on. YOLO, right?”

She rolled her eyes but took a step forward, and hesitated to say something. “Will you actually hold my hand?”

He paused. “To keep you safe.”

She nodded, and sat. He put his hands behind her back to make her feel safe. She didn't put her legs to the other side, she was sitting close to him, he turned to her to see that she was looking down on her thighs but with her eyes closed. When he spoke the hair at the back of her neck rose as his breath fanned over her neck.

“If you're scared to face your fear, you'll never outgrow it. I won't let you fall.” He promised. “Just put your legs over, or not. But at least turn and look at the view. You are seriously missing out. And I really want you to see this.” It was true, Jameson was so excited to show her this small view from this high. He is actually a bit sad that she's not experiencing it like he wanted her to.

She sighed with a nod, and turned back to look, her eyes sparked.

“Woah.”

Jameson smiled at her reaction although it was just whisper he heard it crystal clear, maybe it's the distance but a part of him told him that he would hear her from kilometres away as well. He didn't want to call it infatuation, because he knew that they are binary opposites.

And would never work.

So he called it an experiment, a challenge, anything but infatuation. He was determined to make it stay that way, even if felt a little tug on his heart the way her eyes twinkled, and when she smiled looking at the view.

It doesn't matter, they'll never work.

part 3 →

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #jameson hawthorne x you #jameson hawthorne x reader #grayson hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #the hawthorne brothers #xander hawthorne #avery grambs #avery kylie grambs #nash hawthorne #the grandest game

36 notes · View notes