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miss-hyoko · 2 years ago

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Privileged One

Character(s): Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, and Malleus

Summary: What if you were his childhood friend?

Tag(s) and warning(s): GN!Reader, fluff, platonic but can be read as romantic, reader is NOT Yuu, a bit depressing for the character's part (not too serious)

Note: I initially plan to make you two a normal pair of childhood friends, but my stupid brain is acting up midway and makes it seems like he has a one-sided crush on you. I still hope you enjoy, though (⁠っ⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠っ

1. Riddle Rosehearts

Most of the Heartslabyul students are jealous of you. You are the only person who can (accidentally) break the rules of the Queen of Hearts and then get away with only a light scolding from the Housewarden.

There had once been a student who dared to say that Riddle played favorites on you, but then the red tyrant got angry and they ended up getting collared for a whole week. The punishment actually could have lasted much longer, but you who heard the news took pity on the student and asked Riddle to release him. That student is now a living example of what can happen to people who dare to comment on how Riddle treats you. Now, almost everyone knows how important you are to Riddle.

Every time you come to visit Heartslabyul, the students there will automatically lead you to Riddle without paying attention to your reason for visiting. You find it a little amusing, the way their faces light up whenever they see you before trying to get you to Riddle as quickly as possible, it's as if they have found a savior who can save them from a calamity called Riddle Rosehearts. You can't blame them, they became like that after noticing that every time Riddle's with you, he will be a bit lenient in giving punishment to the rulebreaker because his attention is too preoccupied on you.

When an Unbirthday Party was being held, you would definitely be invited and there's a special seat that has been arranged just for you, which is right beside Riddle's own seat. There's an unwritten rule that says the first slice of cake belongs to the Housewarden. But, since the cake belonged to Riddle now and that rule wasn't exactly written down on paper, then there's no harm in letting you have the first bite, right? In his defense, Riddle claimed that he didn't break the unwritten rule. The first slice of cake was indeed his, he just let you have the first bite.

If you have trouble understanding a certain subject, fret not because you have Riddle to tutor you. Once school was over, you two would have a study session in Riddle's room. Accompanied by tea and Trey's handmade cakes, Riddle will teach you with the patience he has never shown to anyone but you. Every time you answer correctly a question he gives, Riddle will give you a spoonful of Strawberry Pie from his plate. And if you answered wrong, Riddle will explain it again from the beginning until you fully understand it. This pattern will continue to repeat until finally all the questions are answered or the strawberry pie on his plate runs out.

Amidst his busy life as Heartslabyul's Housewarden, Riddle would always try to spend more time with you. Like; accompanying you to walk to school, talking briefly with you when you two pass each other in the hallway, having lunch together in the cafeteria, and when school is over, he'll wait for you so both of you can go back together to Heartslabyul and have a private tea party.

Whenever he's feeling stressed and exhausted, somehow you always show up at the right time and give him the comfort he's looking for. The two of you would spend time together in his room, with Riddle resting his head on your thighs while your fingers trace the soft strands of his hair. Accompanied by your gentle hum, Riddle then decided to rest for a bit together with his childhood friend before continuing his work later.

2. Leona Kingscholar

Rather than calling yourself Leona's childhood friend, you actually feel more like his personal assistant, considering how much work you have been doing for that lazy lion.

Together with Ruggie, you two were entrusted by the teachers to bring Leona back to class every time he skips class. But knowing Ruggie, he will surely let you handle it all while he himself returns to class to study (he would rather not waste his school fees, okay?). Left all alone, now start your journey, trying to find Leona. You already know where Leona is, but first you need to go to the cafeteria to buy some meat which you plan to use as an 'offering' so (hopefully) he will go back to class with you.

Every time you pick Leona up from his napping place, usually there will be two possible endings. The first one was that he will accept your 'offerings' and go back to class with you, although begrudgingly and full of complaints all the way to the class, then continue his nap in class, which makes you heave a long, weary sigh. While the other one is, he pulls you to accompany him to take a nap together, where you will be his pillow and also his partner in crime considering now you also skip the class together with him.

Even though he never shows it, Leona secretly loves watching you bustle around doing things for him. From cleaning his room, cooking for him, doing his laundry, and other menial work. Ruggie would do all that work for his money, meanwhile, you do all of that out of concern for your lazy childhood friend. It makes Leona feel as if you put him in as your priority that's more important than anything else, it makes Leona feel smug.

Every beastman in school knows better than to pick a fight with you. Never mind fighting, they shouldn't even talk rudely to you. If they dared to do so, then they should be prepared to face Leona's wrath. In Leona's mind, you who are his childhood friend are a part of him. Offending you means offending Leona as well, and Leona won't take it well.

But no matter how your patient is, sometimes you can also get annoyed with Leona's endless laziness. So, you will wake the lion up from his sleep and tell him to do his own business himself. And since it's Leona, of course he refuses and will try to go back to sleep, but you're not going to let him have that peaceful sleep until he finished all his works. The two of you then will start squabbling about it for a bit while the other Savanaclaw students will stare at you in amazement, for you're the only daring one to scold their lazy of a Housewarden. If it were anyone else, their Housewarden would probably kick that person away the moment they disturbed his sleep.

In your eyes, Leona is no different from an overgrown cat. Whenever Leona's mood gets worse, he will look for you and take you to his room to accompany him to sleep. You didn't try to cheer him up, you knew all Leona needed now was just your company, so you started telling him about your daily life and other interesting things you encountered today. And whether you realize it or not, Leona never sleeps even though his eyes are closed. He listens to all your stories in silence without missing a word. For him, your voice is far more effective in calming his nerve than sleeping.

3. Azul Ashengrotto

In the Mostro Lounge, there is one special table that no one is allowed to sit on, no matter how much they are willing to pay for it. If someone tries to occupy it by force, then they would come face to face with one of the Leech brothers and be banned from entering Mostro Lounge again. That table was specially prepared by Azul just for you, his most beloved childhood friend. Every time you visit Mostro Lounge, Azul will drop anything he's currently doing just to greet you personally and help you order your favorite menu.

Contrary to what people think, Azul doesn't give you free food just because you're his childhood friend. You still have to pay for your meal, but Azul doesn't mind giving you a little discount. And when I say he gives you a little discount, it means he will give you several discount coupons that you can stack with other discount coupons with a maximum of 100%. But in exchange for the coupon he gave you, you have to keep this nice thing a secret from the other customers. Because truth to be told, Mostro Lounge doesn't accept stacking discounts, but since you're his childhood friend, Azul doesn't mind making a little exception for you.

At school, you were always seen together with the three infamous Octavinalle's students or at least one of them, mainly Azul. Because of that, there are rumors going around saying that you are also involved in some kind of shady business alongside the three. You aren't concerned with the rumours, but Azul does. He would send the twins to find the person who spread the rumor and teach them a lesson or two about how one should not just jump to conclusions without any real evidence. People can talk shit about him and he couldn't care less. But talk shit about you, and Azul will take it personally.

Every time Mostro Lounge wants to add a new menu, Azul will call you to be the taster. If he sees you enjoying the new menu, then that same night the menu will already be on the Mostro Lounge menu list.

Since you're Azul's childhood friend, it's not surprising that you're also good friends with the Leech brothers. Together with Jade and Floyd, you three have fun teasing Azul. But different from the Leech brothers, who will be given additional work if Azul manages to get angry, you will only end up with a long scolding from the businessman.

Even so, you still feel a little guilty for making Azul angry. You know Azul usually has a fair amount of patience, but if he gets angry, it means the jokes you three makes have gone a bit too far. Hence, you volunteered to help out at the Mostro Lounge. Azul is a little touched by your sentiments. You have always been very caring and concerned with his feelings, ever since childhood. Well, that side of you is the main reason why you're Azul's favorite person.

But as a businessman, who is Azul to turn down the chance you're giving him? Since you asked for it yourself, then he won't be lenient in giving you orders. This resulted in you ending up in the VIP room, sitting on one of the soft sofas, cookies and tea served on the table in front of you, while Azul sits at his desk and goes through his documents. Azul has indeed given you one task, which is to sit quietly and accompany him to work until the closing time.

Azul is the type of person who is full of preparation and planning. It made him feel secure, knowing that he was ready to take on anything. But if something goes wrong and out of his expectations, Azul will become very frustrated and all he wants is nothing but to crawl back into his octopus pot. It was times like these that the twins would turn Azul over to you. Their childhood experiences have taught them that once Azul entered his octopus pot, only you can persuade him to come out. You won't blatantly coax Azul out because the first time you do it, Azul actually hides deeper into his octopus pot. So to solve this problem, you're going to sit outside his octopus pot for a few moments without speaking a word, giving him alone time while still reminding Azul that you're there for him. After a long enough silence, you will start talking about random things to completely turn his attention to you and forget his frustration. For a while, you will continue to talk alone, but you keep telling stories until finally, Azul starts responding to your words one by one. Azul realizes that all the topics you choose to talk about are completely useless, but oddly enough, he doesn't mind hearing all your ramblings at all. When he is finally back to normal, he will pop himself out of his octopus pot and act as if nothing happened. But the next time you visit the Mostro Lounge, Azul will treat you to a free meal as his token of gratitude.

4. Kalim Al-Asim

Even though you are not a servant of the Asim family like Jamil, but you still insist on taking care of Kalim because he is a sunshine boy who must be protected at all cost.

Usually, people will see you hanging out together with Kalim, with or without Jamil. You are the only person Jamil trusts to look after Kalim when he is too busy doing other things.

Kalim loves to tell you numerous things, from the big news he heard from Cater in club-meeting to the little things like how sleepy he was during Professor Trein's class. You always listen attentively to him, while occasionally giving a response as a sign that you pay attention to his story.

Kalim also likes to gift you random objects he found at shop. He said they reminded him of you, so he reflexively bought them and wanted to give them to you. Because of his habit, Jamil often scolds him and constantly tries to remind him not to buy things spontaneously. But did Kalim stop? No.

Everyone knows Kalim likes to throw parties, but when it comes to you, Kalim hopes to always throw a party for you if Jamil doesn't forbid it. Did you get a good grade on Professor Crewel's pop quiz? It's time to party! Did you get coach Vargas' praise for doing a zigzag flight? It's party time! Are you sad because your favorite novel character died? A party will make you feel better!

Look, Jamil is grateful that you often accompany Kalim so that he can focus more with another work, but can you stop agreeing to all of Kalim's requests?! What do you mean you can't say no to him?! What do you mean his twinkling eyes look so mesmerizing that you forgot to say no?! Great Sevens, please give Jamil's more patience to face your and Kalim's stupidity.

Kalim is the epitome of the sun itself, he is always optimistic and cheerful. But that doesn't mean his life is always smooth, sometimes Kalim can also feel down. If that's the case, Kalim will usually sneak out of the dorm using his magic carpet and then go to your place to invite you to join him. Flying his magic carpet and spending time with you is Kalim's best way to relieve stress.

5. Vil Schoenheit

Initially, little Vil didn't want to be your friend because he thought you were ugly (you're not, it's just Vil's standards that's too high). But the little you have been fascinated by his ethereal beauty, so you constantly try to pester him. Being a child, you can only praise Vil's beauty with a limited vocabulary. Like how clear his eyes are, how pink his lips are, how beautiful his hairstyle is, how melodious his voice is, and other little things you like about Vil. No one has ever praised him like that, so little Vil accepted you as his friend on the condition that you have to constantly compliment him, honestly and sincerely.

And that's what you've been doing until now. But even as a grown up, you still prefer to compliment Vil's beauty with straightforward words because you think it sounds more sincere than long poetic words. Vil says it's a stupid thought, but deep down he'd rather you keep praising him like that because your simple compliments are always better to hear than empty flattery people give to him to curry his favor.

As a result of having Vil as your childhood friend, your beauty standards have been greatly affected. When other people compliment someone as handsome/pretty, you can only awkwardly nod your head, even though in your heart you are trying to find which part of that person is handsome/beautiful. They didn't even have a thousandth of the charisma that Vil had! How can people call him handsome/beautiful? Do they have a problem with their eyes? (No, it's just your standards that's been raised very high by Vil).

Every time Vil becomes a model for a brand, usually he will share the products he got with you. And if the film he's starring in is coming out soon, he will invite you to attend the film premiere together.

You are Vil's first and number one fan, while Vil is your personal stylist and makeup artist. Every outfit and makeup that you will wear must pass through Vil's strict selection. He won't force you to look perfect like him, but he will make sure you look outstanding in any style of fashion that you choose.

With other people, Vil has this Untouchable Queen aura who is difficult to approach. But with you, he's just Vil, an ordinary young man with extraordinary ambitions. When both of your schedules are free, you and Vil will meet in his room to do beauty treatments together while exchanging stories. Vil tells you about what's going on in the entertainment world, while you tell him about the stupidity that some NRC students did when Vil was away.

Vil has one big secret that he doesn't even tell you. And that secret is the fact that you are his emotional support that always cheers him up whenever he feels down. When he gets frustrated every time he gets a villain role, you always stand for the character he plays instead of the main character. When people started to leave him for Neige, you still chose him. When you have seen all the bad sides that he has always buried, you remain by his side. For Vil, you are the most beautiful thing the world has ever given him.

6. Idia Shroud

Apart from Ortho, you are the only person who can freely enter Idia's room as you please. But before entering, please don't forget to knock on his door in the rhythmical order that you two have agreed beforehand, so he knows that it's you outside and not the normies that he constantly tries to avoid.

Just like Leona's childhood friend, you're also entrusted by the teachers to bring him to class. Together with Ortho, the two of you will spend nearly half an hour persuading Idia to attend the class. Faced with your and Ortho's pitiful faces, what else can Idia do but to man up and do the shit? At least, that's what he said to himself. When he just come out of his room, his anxiety gets the better of him and he will immediately scurried back to his room. In the end, you managed to bring Idia to class, but it's not the person himself and rather his floating tablet.

It is common knowledge among students that Ignihyde has a private Wi-Fi network with excellent signal. So, whenever you have homework to do, or you simply want to play online games, you will come to Idia's room and borrow their dorm's Wi-Fi. In exchange for giving you Wi-Fi, Idia will 'borrow' your hand to do his game's gacha. Apparently, you have this 'golden hand' that every gamer would kill for. The card with the highest rarity will come home in just one pull or the first ten pulls every time you gacha.

The limited time event just started a few minutes ago, but thanks to your 'golden hand', you immediately get the SSR event character, whose spawn rate is less than 1%, in just one pull. He will immediately jump around while squealing like a child, and then subconsciously hug you while thanking you many times. After that, he immediately posted the gacha's result online and starts being salty to other players who have to hit the pity system just to get it.

You spend more time in Idia's room than your own. His room just has everything, okay? Cool air conditioning, smooth internet network, comfortable bed, and various kinds of snacks. Every time you visit Idia's room, you will usually fall asleep in his bed listening to the sound of keyboard typing that's created when he plays his games or programming stuff that you can't really understand. Of course, Idia initially is a bit unhappy with that habit of yours since he only has one bed. But when he sees you sleeping so soundly in his bed, Idia can only sigh and decided to sleep somewhere else, maybe in his chair or just straight up lay himself on the floor. He'll be kind just for this time, the next time you fall sleep in his bed, Idia swears he will really kick you out of the bed (he lied, he still lets you hog his bed while he himself sleeps on the floor).

You may not know, but Idia is the envy of every gamer in his online circles. He often shows off Ortho and you to other gamers, saying how lucky he was to have a younger brother who is very considerate and also a childhood friend who has a 'golden hand'. How many introverts can have the same thing as he does? ALMOST NO ONE, SUCKERS!

When Idia's anxiety becomes worse and he starts being pessimistic about all aspects of life, Ortho will immediately go to you and take you to his brother. You both will find him huddled under the blanket on his bed. He asked you and Ortho to just go and leave him alone. But you two know better than to leave. So, you and Ortho will sit on the edge of his bed and start trying to coax him out, telling him about all the good things this world has. It would take a while for him to calm down, but that was better than letting him sink deeper into dejection.

7. Malleus Draconia

Becoming a childhood friend of Malleus means accepting Lilia as your father figure. And accepting Lilia as your father figure means being prepared to be chased down by Lilia who wants to hear you call him father.

You are the first friend Malleus has ever had, so he tries very hard to maintain your friendship. Something caught your interest? Next time you meet Malleus, he'll give it to you as a present. Are you having trouble learning magic? Worry not, Malleus will help you master your magic. Are you amazed by his status as a prince? Hmm, maybe Malleus could ask his grandmother to adopt you? (His grandmother also likes you, but she can't adopt her potential grandchild-in-law just anyone)

You've once tried to stay away from him because some people say you don't deserve to be a friend of Malleus, the crown prince of the Briar Valley. As a result, Malleus's mood became so bad that it threw the palace into a turmoil. His mood finally returned to normal when the two of you were reunited again. After that incident, Malleus became quite protective of you. Someone spoke badly of you? Malleus will meet him personally to have a 'friendly' discussion. Someone wants to pick a fight with you? The next second, they all suddenly fell to the ground for no apparent reason.

You and Malleus are basically one package deal. NRC students will often see the two of you walking around the school hand in hand like two little children, you talk to him and he listens to you. Those who saw that sight dared to swear by the name of the Great Sevens, Malleus had this very rare gentle smile graced his handsome face when he's looking at you.

Malleus loves spending time with you, even if all you both do is just sit quietly under a tree listening to the sound of birds singing in the distance. When the soft breeze starts to blow, you start to get sleepy and unknowingly end up falling asleep leaning on Malleus. Seeing your peaceful sleep expression, Malleus couldn't help but gently trace your face using his finger. He just wanted to make sure that all of this was real and you're not an illusion his mind created.

Having a Malleus as your childhood friend makes you get free bodyguards. For the starters, Malleus himself is quite protective of you because of what happened in the early days of your friendship. And because Malleus is practically glued to you, his two retainers, Sebek and Silver, will also stick to you for the sake of guarding Malleus. Then, there's Lilia, who doesn't want to miss the fun, so he will always appear suddenly and join your group of four. It's kind of complicated, but at least now you have four free strong bodyguards.

Even though he looks young, Malleus has actually lived quite long. Therefore, he's quite mature despite having a seemingly teenager's body. There are only two things that can affect his mature mind, namely anything related to you and not being invited to an event, usually it's the letter one because he always makes sure nothing bad happens to you. When he starts to sulk because he wasn't invited to an event, Lilia will call you to cheer Malleus up. As soon as he saw you, Malleus was practically beaming with excitement. You don't need to bother coaxing him, just doing any activities together with him like walking in the park, eating ice cream, taking care of Roaring Drago, or trying new things is enough to make Malleus entirely forget his sadness from earlier.

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acesw · 25 days ago

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Disabled Characters in Reverse: 1999 - Part 3

Welcome to the final installment of this list of the game's disabled characters (for now), and we are ending it with the most interesting of them: the neurodivergent characters!

These characters are particularly special since a lot of them are mainly speculated, but they draw heavy parallels to their respective conditions that they had to be taken note of.

Now because there are so many characters, they became an entire category of their own instead of being lumped with the previous post, and this became undoubtedly one of the longest texts I've written down among most of the analysis posts I've made for this game.

I hope that you enjoy reading this final piece, let's get started.

Autism: 37, Horropedia, Melania, Balloon Party, Avgust

All of these characters are incredibly similar to each other, and yet they all have their share differences. For example, both Horropedia and 37 are characters that embody one of the main stereotypes about autism: Incredibly intelligent characters who fixate on specific subjects. 37’s focus is on mathematics, while Horropedia’s is the horror genre. Even their personalities are quite similar: arrogant yet kind and understanding people.

They lace their speech with associations to their topic of interest, and will infodump about it unprompted. The two of them also struggle to pick up social cues, nor can tell if the information they’re sharing is unsolicited because the information is normal to themselves.

However, the difference between them in this is that Horropedia is more carefree about it, whilst 37 is more self-aware about the fact that she can’t come to a mutual understanding with others.

The rest of the characters here also share these traits, but they all stand out in their own ways:

Melania’s intricate way of making plans tends to be in the form of academic exams. These tend to be her greatest motivator when it comes to doing work, and gets easily frustrated when having to change them. She also has a set routine that she gets easily surprised by sudden interruptions.

Balloon Party’s speech is found to be unconventional (i.e. the speech impediment from earlier, the tone of her voice is found to be naturally flat) and is paired with word association and echolalia.

Avgust has a unique understanding of the world around him, with him associating everything and everyone with more innocent concepts. (e.g. his father’s death is often referred to as him “sleeping in the mines”) None of these mean that he doesn’t understand things like death as what they are, only that he’s very young among the cast and has been raised in a healthy environment that allows him to continue thinking this way for a bit longer.

ADHD: Regulus & Eagle

With Regulus, it’s more of a headcanon than it is backed by evidence, but the main points that can be found for her are her restlessness, lacking attention span, and her impulsivity. They’re common aspects (hyperactive) in ADHD, and thus they aren’t exactly conclusive.

But I also found that Regulus also tends to bring her interests to light when navigating through conversations, and this with the reasons mentioned above makes me personally believe that Regulus does not just strictly have ADHD, but still overall neurodivergent.

Eagle seems to have the inattentive type of ADHD. A more established indicator of her likely having it is through her anecdote, where she was said to have had some sort of attention-deficit. In that anecdote, Eagle mainly acts on her own impulses such as jumping to try to find the missing boy scout, and even helping X if it meant that it progressed her mission.

She struggles to take rejection and constantly tries to prove herself to be able to gain the acceptance she’s looking for. It made me believe that she has Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria. (RSD)

While these alone aren’t conclusive either, they still give me enough reason to believe that Eagle could be implied to be neurodivergent too.

AuDHD (Autism + ADHD): Vertin, Marcus, AliEn T

From the earlier points, we find that some of the mixed traits that make for auDHD are found in Vertin, Marcus, and AliEn T. All three of them are quite emotional (even Vertin in spite of her stoicism) and impulsive people, where they tend to jump into action when they have a rough plan set in mind. They also have their own interests (wildlife, reading, Earth) and tend to get absorbed into their own thoughts quite often. Because of the latter, they tend to lead themselves into executive dysfunction. Some things about them differ, however.

Starting with Vertin, most of the “obvious” signs are present in her childhood, where she was restless and curious of the world beyond SPDM, making it difficult for her to focus in school. Yet, she still kept up with topics that interested her, going as far as skipping classes to learn in her own way.

She has gotten punished often for her “defiance,” and ended up being radicalized by it and by the trauma she faced in Chapter 3. Currently, she masks quite heavily to a degree, leaving her main indicators to be her tactile tendencies (i.e. touching things and others out of curiosity) and her becoming absorbed to her own thoughts.

Meanwhile, Marcus is an incredibly anxious person. She often relied on someone like Hofmann to socialize with others and make decisions for her since she struggled greatly in that aspect. She can be easily upset by things and even by her own overthinking, taking rejection quite poorly before resorting to immediately coming up with ways to resolve it.

She often retreats back to reading to be able to ground herself from any stress. But now with everything that’s happened, Marcus has begun working on herself and mustering the courage to be able to push her limits independently.

We’re not entirely sure about how AliEn T’s home society is structured, but it can be argued that his and our societies tend to parallel each other. For example, AliEn T is seen as a bit eccentric to his kind like the regional manager and co-workers because of him being emotionally prone and being very fixated on the Earth. (which his society collectively avoids)

A lot of his notes about his home in the anecdote imply that in his home society, they have their equivalent of some of the struggles found in the neurodivergent experience, which is why he and Officer Williams in the anecdote could empathize with each other.

Others / Related but non-diagnostic: Mesmer Jr., Isolde, Pickles, Kaalaa Baunaa, Tooth Fairy, Blonney

As I explained in the previous post, Mesmer Jr. and Isolde both greatly suffer from conditions that particularly stem from their trauma and subsequent C-PTSD.

Again, Mesmer Jr. is heavily hinted to have OCD, while Isolde has many disorders linked to C-PTSD. (formerly named as "hysteria") Due to the nature of their respective conditions, they both deserve a place here in this list.

It can be assumed that Pickles is neurodivergent due to him being nicknamed as an “indigo pup.” While this might be related to his arcane skill, the nickname is also intriguing because it's like the term “indigo children.”

“Indigo children” are classified as those who are incredibly intelligent and possess special talents or powers according to the New Age concept. However, this classification is closely associated with neurodivergence due to the similar descriptions.

Meanwhile, Kaalaa Baunaa, Tooth Fairy, and Blonney have shared stories in which they've had to maintain some form of distance towards their arcanist identities due to the hostile nature of their environments. They embraced it as part of themselves in the end, though.

Kaalaa Baunaa has been an avid researcher ever since she was young, and enjoys maintaining punctuality through routines. However, she had been often discriminated against in her initial workplace, where her arcanist identity had been picked out first before taking her research in consideration; even her research had been disregarded due to the “unconventional” methods that she applied to conduct them.

It can be considered a familiar feeling among neurodivergent people and it is incredibly frustrating when it happens. For KB, it had gotten bad to the point of her (and Kumar) getting kicked out of their institution, but it never stopped either of them from continuing to do their work.

Tooth Fairy and Blonney both grew up in mixed societies, where they had to force themselves to conform to be able to be accepted in both human and arcanist social spaces.

Tooth Fairy, while achieving this balance in her college years, had never been treated as an equal by either side due to both her arcanist identity and frequency to interact with humans. She was bullied for it and was even taken advantage of when she made the medicine in her character story. These experiences led her to accept her own identity and eventually stop overtly conforming to both societies.

Blonney meanwhile moved to a predominantly human society, where she greatly conformed to human ideals and trends to “fit in” with the humans. But she was still off-handedly discriminated against due to simply just being an arcanist. She tried really hard to suppress herself, to the point that she dimmed her own “light” and was unable to use her personalized arcane skill. But when she came back to Green Lake, her mask slowly fell apart, and then it reignited her passion, which allowed her to begin accepting herself again.

Honorable Mentions

Sonetto, Matilda, Sotheby, Ezra, Jessica - Autism (mainly credited from: @/H0LOdm on twt)

While these are mainly headcanon, some of these characters here do display neurodivergent traits in their own ways, most especially the latter 3 of these characters here. They all struggle to pick up social cues and tend to struggle in (conventionally) socializing/empathizing with others.

Sotheby and Jessica in particular both lace their language using their interests and the environment they grew up in. Ezra also uses his interests in fungi as a conversation starter with others, eager to see any mushrooms that might be potentially found anywhere.

Final Notes and Thanks

When I started writing these down I didn't really think much of it outside of the fact that there were so many characters who were particularly neurodivergent, which then further extended to the rest of the disabled characters as well. I tried my best to word these as respectfully as I can, and that I hope people could find fun in reading these as much as I did writing them.

I give my acknowledgements to these people for their help and support for the creation of list in entirety: Jager, Lupjo, Reg, Bee ( @e-0timely ) , Abyss ( @abyss-idiot ), and Tokki

Considering the nature of this list, I want to say that are non-conclusive and can be interpreted in any way you want. As I said in my previous version of this post, "...Every experience is different, and I think these characters here openly show that."

Feel free to add your own insights, corrections, and even your own headcanons here. Thanks for reading, and have the two links to the first two lists down here.

Physically Disabled Characters Psychologically Disabled Characters

#reverse 1999 #character analysis #horropedia #avgust #vertin #balloon party #kaalaa baunaa #tooth fairy #37 reverse 1999 #melania reverse 1999 #regulus reverse 1999 #eagle reverse 1999 #alien t reverse 1999 #marcus reverse 1999 #pickles reverse 1999 #blonney reverse 1999

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minisugakoobies · 2 years ago

Text

Confessions of a Dirty Mind | Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader Genre: smut, and they were roommates!, porn with the barest of plots, a little fluff Rating: M (18+) Warnings: incredibly thirsty pining, reader’s a bit feral for her roommate, the giggles will be deployed as a weapon, reader drops the d word (daddy) in her dirty thoughts but never says it out loud, accidental texts, body worship (abs, thighs, breasts - everything gets praised), love bites/marking, grinding, chan is thick everywhere, chan throws reader around a little, hints at dom!chan, fingering, oral sex (m + f receiving), facefucking, cum eating, reader is kind of an idiot but that's okay!, I wrote this out of a dire need to s this man’s d Word Count: 6.5K Disclaimers: NSFW; obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me Summary: The absolute last thing you want is for your roommate to find out just how much you want him. Right?

A/N: Well, as threatened promised, I'm writing for Stray Kids now in addition to BTS! This came out of absolutely nowhere last week. I've just got Bang Chan brainrot 24/7 now, so that's cool. Thanks to @minttangerines @bangtanintotheroom @sugalaritae for their support (and amazing Aussie accents!!) 💕

Unbeta'd as usual. Please let me know what you think! Like if you'd like to see more skz fics from me… that would fuel me to keep writing. If everyone hates this I'm quitting writing and moving to the wild to live with the koalas ✌️

Being roommates with your crush is its own special type of torture. Always being so close to what you want but never being able to touch. To taste. To feel.

You weren’t always this feral. Once upon a time, you were normal. Well-adjusted, even. Then you had to move for your job and needed to find a place to stay fast and your best friend Minho just happened to know someone looking for a roommate.

Honestly, looking back, it was too easy. Should’ve known there’d be a catch. And that catch was your sanity.

Because Minho’s friend Bang Chan turned out to be the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life.

Listen. A lot of people use phrases like that all the time, “the hottest man you’ve ever seen,” some hyperbole they say for ridiculous effect, but you mean it. You have never seen anyone as beautiful as this man, with his chiseled cheekbones, thick lips, and those dimples.

Fuck. Those dimples. Almost as maddening as the washboard abs he’s constantly showing off. You didn’t know a person could be allergic to shirts until you met Chan.

And now you’re suffering. Every. Damn. Day.

It’s not just that he’s the most gorgeous man on the planet. No, that would be hurtful enough, but he’s also kind. Smart. Silly as hell. You’re constantly plagued by his sweet smiles and unbelievably adorable giggles.

The worst part, though, is the way he can flip between sexy and soft instantaneously. Like when the two of you argue over something stupid. All of your arguments are fundamentally stupid. The two of you get on so fucking well, the only things you argue over are opinions on pointless things. Like last night, when you’d joined him for a beer while he watched tv.

“You’re out of your mind,” Chan had declared, twisting sideways on the couch to look at you. “There’s no way a koala could possibly defeat a kangaroo in a cage match!”

“Sure it could.”

“No, it could not!” Chan let loose a flurry of high-pitched giggles. “Have you ever seen a kangaroo? Those things are ripped! One kick or punch, and the koala’s out.” He mimed a powerful punch.

You tipped back the remainder of your beer before pointing the bottle at him. “Yes it could! Think about it - what do koalas do?” When he just blinked, you continued. “They climb! And what do koalas usually have?” Again, a blank stare. “Syphilis! So… think about it! All that little guy has to do is climb up the kangaroo, give him some germs, and boom! Kangaroo goes down.” You grin smugly. “There’s a reason they call syphilis the silent killer.”

Chan fixed you with his signature Look™, the one you think of as “stern dom daddy” - thick eyebrows drawn, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, dark eyes scanning your face - and you felt your knees go weak. Then he blinded you with the full sunshiny force of his smile, eyes closing, dimples popping.

“That is an absolutely insane argument, not to mention completely incorrect. I don’t even know where to start explaining why you’re wrong.” He paused. “No, actually, let’s start with the fact that it’s chlamydia, not syphilis, that koalas get, and go from there.” By the time he’d finished and you’d finally conceded that a kangaroo would probably win, the two of you were nearly in tears from laughing.

His duality is whiplash-inducing. And always leaves you in ruins.

So when your feelings overwhelm you, when you feel like you’re absolutely bursting at the seams with need, you do what you always do. Torture Minho.

Your bff is used to you venting to him about your crippling inability to make a move. On anyone. Ever. Over the years, he’s weathered dozens of crushes that never went anywhere because while you’re definitely a total treasure, you lack the confidence to make any of your (usually horny) dreams come true. He’s come to expect the endless text messages you send.

Except that now, “messages” might not be the right word for them. “Unhinged ravings” might be more accurate.

Ughhhh he’s so damn fine Today he came home from the gym all sweaty and I nearly offered to give him a bath With my tongue. My TONGUE Minho!

Like he’s always done, Minho bears it all in stride with his usual unwavering compassion.

You’re a lunatic

He doesn’t even try to convince you to say something to Chan about your feelings anymore. Now he just waits for you to exhaust yourself and then he changes the subject. Usually by sending photos of his cats.

It’s an odd friendship, but neither of you would trade it for anything.

At the moment, you’re ignoring your pain by lying on your bed, in a tee and sweats, watching a movie on your laptop. You can hear your roommate rummaging around his room. Your apartment features a Jack and Jill bathroom, so it’s easy for you to hear what’s going on next door through the adjoining space.

“Channie, why are you pacing around?” you call out.

Your phone buzzes.

Trying to find my shirt

“Are you seriously texting me from the next room?” Pausing your movie, you trudge through the bathroom. The door to Chan’s room is open so you don’t bother to knock, flopping down on his bed as he digs through his closet. He’s shirtless as usual, blond curls shaking with the force of his rummaging.

“Yeah, sorry, ‘m in a hurry and didn’t want to stop looking,” Chan admits sheepishly, throwing a grin over his shoulder at you. You ignore the fluttering in your stomach and get comfortable, resting your head on your arms.

“You could’ve just said it out loud. I can hear you all over this apartment.” It’s not a big space. Which only amplifies your angst, as it’s hard to escape from your desires when the source of it is just constantly right there. Sprawling out on the tiny couch in the living room. Making himself a midnight snack in the kitchen. Lounging on your bed while you sit at your desk, trying not to stare at his reflection on your screen. “What shirt are you looking for?”

“My tiger tank.”

You know the shirt he’s speaking of - his white tank top with an embroidered tiger’s head on the chest. It’s a favorite of yours, cut low enough on the sides and in the front to show off his biceps and pecs at the same time. The first time you’d seen Chan in it, Minho had accused you of being a vampire because you couldn’t stop talking about how much you wanted to nibble on his collarbones.

“Ah! Found it!” Chan raises the shirt over his head victoriously before yanking it on. He takes a moment to inspect himself in his mirror and you wonder if he truly recognizes just how stunning he is. He catches your eye in the reflection. “What are you up to tonight? Wanna come out with me, ‘Lix, & ‘Bin? We’re gonna get some drinks.”

Sure, you’d love to hang out at the bar with Chan and his friends. They’re always a good time. Except when closing time arrives and once again you’re forced to bear witness to your roommate getting hit on by basically every woman in the bar. Not that you can blame them. But it’s especially awful on the nights when he leaves with someone else. You’d rather not deal with that tonight.

“Nah, I’m just gonna relax. But thanks.”

“Come on,” he wheedles, plopping down on the bed, hard enough to make you bounce a little. “You haven’t been out with us in ages. Is it the guys? Did one of them say something stupid?”

“They always say stupid shit. That’s all they ever say,” you crack, smiling when Chan laughs. “But no, it’s nothing like that. I’m just tired.”

Chan doesn’t say anything, just looks at you for a moment. The silence makes you inexplicably nervous, and you fiddle with his comforter for want of something to do with your hands. But then he just nods. “‘Kay. But if you change your mind, we’ll be down at Back Door.”

“Thanks.”

Chan heads into the bathroom to play with his hair. You slip past him, back into your room, throwing yourself dramatically onto your bed and burying your face in a plush pillow. How much longer can you stand this?

You grab your phone.

I’m losing my mind

You can practically hear the sigh in Minho’s voice as you read his response.

What did Chan do now?

He’s getting ready to go out with Felix and Changbin He looks so fucking good in those tight jeans

Minho doesn’t reply. He knows to just let you get it out of your system before responding.

My mouth is literally watering It’s a Pavlovian response at this point I see denim and I start salivating

A text alert pops up in the middle of your thirsty ranting.

Hey do you mind if I borrow your eyeliner?

“Stop texting me when you’re 10 feet away!” you yell, laughing. Chan pops his head out of the bathroom and flashes you that grin, the one that turns your insides to goo, and you sigh. “Of course you can borrow it, you know you can.”

Thanks

“Chan!”

His giggles float through the door and your thumbs fly.

Seriously If Chan doesn’t let me s his d one of these days I will die I will be the first person to die from ineedtosuckadick-itis

There’s a loud clattering in the bathroom, like someone’s knocked half the contents of the crowded sink counter onto the floor. Your makeup isn't cheap, so you hop up off your bed.

“You okay in there?” The first thing you notice is the pile of smashed cosmetics on the ground. The second thing is the way your roommate is staring at you, eyes wide, sharpened kohl liner still clutched in one hand, phone in the other. “What? What’s wrong?”

Chan doesn’t speak, but raises his phone and kind of waves it limply.

Oh god. You were in the wrong chat. You were in the wrong chat and now Chan knows you want to suck his dick. You’ve been texting for most of your life and this is the moment your brain decides to fuck up?!

As Chan continues to stare, you realize you have two choices: fess up and own it, or play dumb.

It’s no choice.

“What, uhhhhhhh, what’s up?”

Chan gestures to his phone. “You want to suck my dick?” He says the words as if they’re unfamiliar to him, like he’s trying them out for the first time.

Well, shit, how are you supposed to play dumb if he’s just going to call you right out?

“Guess the cat’s out of the horny bag now,” you mutter under your breath.

Chan cocks his head. “What?”

“Nothing,” you cough, looking at your own phone. “I mean, uh, noooo, what? Minho and I were just, um, talking about how I want to, uh, sssssss…” you glance wildly around the cramped room, hissing like a frantic snake as you fail to come up with another word that starts with s, before your eyes land on an empty glass sitting by the sink. “…Share a drink with you? Because I’m… thirsty?”

“You’re thirsty?”

Fucking understatement.

You can’t quite read the expression on Chan’s face as he glances between you and his phone. There’s a flash of dom daddy in there and then it’s gone.

“YN. I know what ‘s his d’ means. Also, you said you had - what did you call it? Ineedtosuckadickitis.” You think Chan’s lips quirk slightly as he reminds you of your textual idiocy, but you’re too busy trying to psychically rip a hole in the floor so you can disappear forever to be certain. “Where do you get your medical info, by the way? I’m starting to worry.”

He’s making light of the situation, which you would appreciate more if you weren’t sure you’re about to die from embarrassment. Your mind is reeling. There’s no way to get out of this. Any second now, he’s gonna realize how you feel. Then he’s gonna let you down. Gently, you hope. Then you’re gonna need to find a new place to live, because there’s no recovering from this.

“Fine.” You take a deep breath. “Yes, I said it.” Unable to look him in the eye, you focus on your phone as you speak. “I was telling Minho how much I want to suck your dick, because I’m a disgusting horny monster who can’t stop thinking about it. I’m sorry. I’m gonna go pack up my room now.” Shoulders slumping, you slink away, hoping he won’t follow.

He does. “Wait, what?”

You don’t answer, heading directly for your closet, tugging at your suitcase where it lies on a shelf, and he crowds into your space, arms reaching out to stop you.

“Oi, slow down! What are you doing?”

“I’ll try to be out quickly, so you can find a new roommate right away.” You keep pulling on the suitcase, but it’s futile. He barely has to exert any strength to push it back, so you give up.

“YN.” Chan places his hands on your shoulders, turning you around. It’s probably the closest you’ve ever been, standing face to face like this, and the nearness of him is a little dizzying. “Back up. You don’t have to go anywhere. Just talk to me.” He lightly guides you over to your bed, taking a seat next to you. “Why do you think I’d want you to leave?”

“Because I'm a gross little gremlin who can’t stop objectifying you?” you answer honestly.

Chan’s eyes widen before he bursts into laughter. “You know, you’ve said a lot of bonkers things in the months you’ve been living here, but… how does wanting to suck my dick make you a ‘gross little gremlin?’”

Oh no. You can feel it bubbling up inside you, all the things you’ve felt. All the things you’ve said. Oh, you’re going to tell him, aren’t you?

“It’s not just sucking your dick.” Grabbing your phone, you open your chat with Minho again, and begin to read. “‘I need Chan to destroy me. Fully. Like I’m a piece of wood and he’s a lumberjack. Just split me in half. With his hands or his dick, I’m not picky.’” Your entire body radiates with humiliation. You’re a tiny sun made of molecules of mortification, on the verge of going supernova. “Um. That’s one example. And there’s more. A lot more.”

And then you hand him your phone, looking away as he starts to scroll.

You stare at the wall, not wanting to see the expression on his face. Until the quiet gets to you, and you give in, peering at him, expecting to find him frozen again, or worse, looking sickened by your words.

Instead you find him smiling. And then he starts to giggle.

“‘I’m going feral,” he reads. “‘He’s wearing that beanie again. I- ’” His laughing gets louder as he struggles to finish the thought. “‘I want him to wear me instead.’” He glances up at you, eyes glimmering with way too much amusement. “What does that even mean?!”

You groan, yanking your shirt up to cover your face. “Chan, stop!” He merely laughs harder. How can he be enjoying this? You’ve never known him to be cruel. “I get it, I’m awful, you don’t have to laugh!”

But he keeps chuckling, and then you feel his hands on your hips. Like a bewildered turtle, you poke your head out of your shirt, and he just smiles.

“C’mere.” He keeps tugging at you until you scoot closer, swinging your legs over his lap, and pulls you in for a hug.

It’s better than you ever imagined. His strong arms lock around your waist, keeping you in place as his chest continues to rumble with his apparently endless mirth. Tentatively, you let your hands rest on his broad shoulders, afraid that if you cling too tightly, he’ll let go.

Chan leans back to grin at you. “You’re so fucking cute.”

You’re so fucking confused. “I am?”

“Yeah.” His fingers rub light circles into your lower back. The sensation is somehow both soothing and invigorating, sending sparks directly to the heat already simmering in your gut. “Just adorable.”

You’re not adorable, you’re a dirty little freak whose mind is constantly churning out trash, but if that’s what he wants to believe, you’ll take it.

“You’re not disturbed by all the things I’ve said?”

“Disturbed? Nah. I’m used to the crazy shit you say.” He’s got a point. You do say a lot of crazy shit. Just not usually about him to him. “Besides, d’you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say something?”

“About your dick??”

Chan tosses his head back, jostling you with his laughter. “No, you maniac, just something in general! Something to tell me that you like me.” When he meets your gaze again, you’re met with that Look™, and this time those sparks head straight for your cunt. “That you want me. Because…”

He trails off, hands gripping your sides, shifting you. Until you feel it. Poking directly into your thigh.

“Oh!”

“Yeah. Oh.” Chan licks his lips. When did his eyes get so dark? “Because I want you too, you absolute fruit loop. Took me a minute to get my bearings, wasn’t expecting you to confess it in a text like that, or with those exact words, but…” He smirks. “I’m good now.”

His thumb traces your jawline before he cups your chin. The gentle touch sends shivers rippling through you. His eyes drop to your lips.

“You good?”

Funnily enough, somehow, you are.

“Yeah. I’m good,” you whisper, tipping forward to close the space between you.

Amazingly, despite the unyielding need to just yeet yourself onto him, you manage to hold back, simply leaning in to the kiss instead. Those plush lips that you’ve raved about feel unbelievable as they caress yours. So soft and tender, like the warmth spreading through you as he tightens his hold. Then he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, and you moan, loud and wanton, unable to control the sound, and he drops his hands to your hips again, gripping insistently.

“C’mere,” he commands again, voice husky as his fingers hook into your sweats. “Come closer.” He exhales heavily. “Please.”

Please? He has no idea how little he needs to beg right now. As if you’re not dying to get as close as you can! In the blink of an eye, you throw your leg over his, straddling him. His hands wrap around you again, like he can’t stand not having them on you for a second. You understand the feeling.

You’re bolder now with your kisses, nipping and licking eagerly. A particularly sharp bite on his pouty lip makes him gasp in surprise, and you press your tongue into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut in sheer ecstasy when he sucks in response. The incessant throbbing of your clit is slightly relieved when Chan’s hips buck upwards, pushing his erection against you more firmly. He swallows your whines, breathes them back out in the form of his own groans.

The need for air eventually overwhelms you after a few minutes, and you begrudgingly tear yourself away from his face.

“Aren’t you going to be late?” you pant, marveling at how red and swollen Chan’s lips are from kissing. The urge to dive back in before you’ve gotten enough oxygen into your system to keep from passing out is strong. “To meet the guys?”

“You really think I’m gonna leave now?” Chan huffs a laugh as he gazes at you from beneath lowered eyelids, looking as dazed as you feel, and you realize, shit, Minho’s right, you are a vampire, and you’re about to eat this man alive. “Fuck no. Besides, what kind of terrible roommate would I be if I left you at death’s door?”

“If you - what?”

More high-pitched giggles fill the room. How can he be so cute while actively grinding his cock against you like this? “Your disease. Remember? Ineedadickitis.”

“I need to suck a dick,” you correct him.

“Oh, do you? Well, go on then.” He cracks up completely, bouncing you with the force of his laughter as you sit there dumbly for half a second before snapping to.

“You’re so stupid, oh my god!” With a howl, you push him away. He goes easily, until he’s lying on his back on your bed, still cackling while he swats away your fake punches. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” His fingers lock around your wrists and with a gentle jerk you’re lying on top of him, your arms pinned between you. Before you can try to pretend that he’s wrong, try to mount yet another one of your dumb arguments, despite knowing full well that he's right, he kisses you again.

As soon as he releases your hands, you tangle them in his hair. His hands trace down your back to grab the swell of your ass, crushing you flat against him, chest to chest. He suddenly breaks off the kiss.

“Are you not wearing a bra?”

You shake your head and he groans, sitting up, taking you with him. His fingers curl in the hem of your top, twisting it upwards.

“Shirt off. Now.” His voice drops an octave and you shudder, quickly obeying his order. Then you grip his tank top.

“You too.”

He reaches behind his head to peel the fabric off, tossing it on the floor. Then he lays back, propping himself up on his elbows as you openly gawk at his stomach.

“Fuck.” He’s transfixed by your chest.

“Jesus.” You’re mesmerized. From this close, you can see a faint trail of fine hair that runs down, cutting through the carved lines of his abs, like an arrow pointing to your desired destination. “Unreal.”

“You can touch, if you’d like,” Chan grins up at you, obviously enjoying your reaction.

You roll your eyes but do anyway, dragging your fingertips over his abs. His stomach twitches beneath your touch. Before you can get too far, he wiggles his hips, playfully jostling you out of your concentration.

“Can I touch, too?”

“Jesus, yes, of course!” Grabbing his hands, you place one on each breast. “Touch me already!”

He doesn’t waste any time, rolling your nipples between his fingers, waking the buds. You arch into him, his abs forgotten as he leans forward to take your left breast in his mouth.

“Shit, Channie,” you whimper, combing his hair out of his face so you can watch him suckle away. He hums into you, swirling his tongue over your nipple, around and around, before dragging his tongue across to the other breast.

“You like that, baby?” he asks, covering your chest with kisses.

Baby? Did he really just call you baby? Is this really happening, or did you slip into one of your daydreams again?

Nope, the hard dick rolling into the apex of your thighs as you grind down on him feels pretty real. You can’t help but moan, wondering what he looks like under those tight jeans. Is he as thick as you imagine?

Wait, why are you still trying to imagine anything? He’s literally underneath you right now.

Your hand splays on his torso as you guide him onto his back again. Slowly, you lower yourself over him, and drag your mouth down his neck. Clearly, you’d interrupted his going out routine earlier, because he’s not wearing his normal cologne right now. Instead, the heady scent you inhale as you stick your nose into the hollow of his clavicles is pure Chan, musky and comforting.

“Ah, that tickles!” he hisses.

“Sorry.” You press a heavy kiss to his collarbone. “Is that better?” He nods, right before you sink your teeth in.

“Nnngh!” He lets out a throaty groan as you happily suck a love bite into his delicate skin. God, the noises this man makes! You want to record them and play them on a loop.

You slip further down, dragging your fingernails over one of Chan’s nipples, watching his face for his reaction. A tiny “oh!” escapes him, and you repeat the motion, grinning when his back lifts off the bed. Sensitive. This is going to be fun.

Chan raises his head when you start to kiss his abs, taking the time to lick along the ridges as you go, the salty tang of his sweat lingering on your lips. When your hands play with the skin above his waistband, he clears his throat. “You know, you don’t have to do this, just because of that text.”

“Are you kidding me?” You pause with your fingers on the button of his fly. “You want me to stop now?”

“I just don’t want you to think I expect anything.” Although his voice is a little shaky, like he’s trying to calm himself down, you hear the sincerity in his words. The sweetness. That warmth inside you roars into a flame.

“Channie. I want this. Do you want this?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Thank god,” you sigh, unzipping his fly. He helps you peel off his tight jeans and you make quick work of his silk boxers beneath. Nudging his legs apart, you kneel between them

For a moment just you stare at the sight in front of you. You were right. He’s thick. Maybe a little longer than most of the dicks you’ve been happy to be acquainted with, maybe not, but definitely thicker.

You want to sit on him so bad. But first you want to please him, want to taste him. So much want.

While you’re dicknotized, Chan stuffs your pillows under his head so he can have a better angle. You glance at his face and find him biting his lip, eyes looking a little desperate. He doesn’t say anything, just watches you.

Might as well put him out of his misery. With a lick of your palm, you wrap your hand around him, and pump a few shallow strokes. He grunts at the sudden slickness, abdomen jumping slightly.

“Ah, baby, just like that,” he says, eyes closing when you roll your thumb over the tip a few times. “Shit.”

Your tongue darts out to follow, dipping around the head and back over, before you take it into your mouth. Just the tip, bobbing off, then a little more, then again. Each time you sink lower, he sighs.

“Fuck, that feels so good. Keep going, take it all in.”

Oh god, is he a talker? You’re already impossibly wet. You can’t possibly handle getting any more aroused.

While your mouth is occupied, you lift your leg so you’re straddling one of Chan’s, resting a palm on his big thigh. You have obsessed over his thighs since the day you moved in. You refer to them as “the thunder from down under” in your texts to Minho. And here they are now, so strong and sturdy beneath you. Wild.

Chan hisses when you deepthroat him, brushing your nose against his pelvis. Even though you pride yourself on your dick-sucking skills, you can’t help but choke slightly. More saliva floods into your mouth, and you swallow around him.

“Oh, shit!” His hips rise up a little. You use both hands, one trying to hold him down by his hip while the other strokes in tandem with your mouth. There’s drool everywhere, and the sounds the wetness makes sounds lewd even for porn. “Baby, this mouth of yours! Feels better than I ever imagined.”

Air rushes into your lungs as you pull off, replacing your mouth with your other hand. “You thought about this?” He fantasized about you, too?

“Oh fuck yeah,” he growls. “All the time. Thought those pretty lips would look so good choking on me, and I was right.” He thrusts a little, rocking his dick up into your slippery grip. “Used to dream about fucking it.”

You moan so brokenly, he looks at you in concern.

“Please,” you lick his darkened head almost frantically, “do it.”

Chan studies you for a moment, brows knitting together, before he pushes your head down.

“That’s it, go down for me,” he directs you, and you listen. “Just stay there. Let me do the work now.”

He starts slowly, tilting his pelvis a little, fucking up into your waiting mouth. Then he cants his hips a little faster. His breathing gets heavier the harder he thrusts. Once he finds a steady rhythm, he lays his hand on the back of your head keeping you exactly where he wants you.

You squirm restlessly as Chan fucks your throat. Having your roommate use your mouth as a sex toy is incredibly hot. Finally, you slide your hand into your sweats to give yourself some relief. Your clit is engorged, practically beating like a heart between your fingers. You let out a pleased moan, vibrating down Chan’s cock.

“Do that again, baby.”

You’re not denying this man anything. Again and again, you make him curse as your hums resonate across his sensitive skin. He trembles a little, and it’s intoxicating to think that you might be breaking down this big, strong roommate of yours, reducing him to a quivering mess.

At the very least, it’s something to aim for.

Chan praises you again. “God damn it, that’s good. Gonna make me cum with that pretty mouth.”

You suck and swallow and moan and rub yourself, feeling Chan’s thigh flex beneath you, and it hits you what he said, that you’re about to get Chan off, you, so you reach out, raking your hand up the inside of his thigh until you find his balls, squeezing gently.

“I’m gonna cum, shit, ’m gonna cum,” he moans, words slurring together. “Where, baby?”

You stop touching yourself so you can grip the hand of his that rests on your head. He gets the point, pace not slowing, and with a few more powerful pumps, and some stuttered exhalations, he fills your mouth. You take it all, swallowing noisily and gasping for breath once he pulls out.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

He laughs as he says it. Your shoulders shake as you half-laugh, half-wheeze, slumping over on Chan’s thigh.

“Is that a compliment?”

“Fuck yeah,” he grins. “And I’m guessing from the sounds you were making, you enjoyed that as well? Just maybe not quite as much as me?”

You shrug. “I got what I wanted.”

“Yeah, okay, maybe, but I bet you’d like more, hmm?” Without waiting for a response, he swiftly flips you onto your back. Just hauls you right over like you’re made of feathers. A rash of ridiculously giddy giggles burst past your lips, but they die away when he crawls up your body, the power of his gaze pinning you in place, and drops hungry lips onto yours.

Immediately, you surge up into him, pressing as close as you can. Both of you are glistening with sweat, his hair sticking to his face and yours as he licks into your mouth, hot and wet. You’re drowning in him. It’s everything you ever wanted. How the fuck can you possibly want more? But you do, and this feeling makes itself known as you start to whimper needily.

Chan’s hand quickly locates your breast, tenderly cupping your flesh. “Have I told you how fucking gorgeous you are? So pretty.”

You preen at his words, humming contentedly. Fuck. Do you have a praise kink, or is it just that Chan’s the one saying these words that is getting you more worked up? You roll your hips, seeking friction, and Chan’s hand slides downward until he reaches where you need him.

“Oh, baby, so wet,” he says, voice hushed, almost reverent. “Just dying to be touched, yeah? Let me help you.”

With sure movements, lithe fingers stroke along your lips, opening you up. Fingertips squeeze your clit, playing with the aching pearl, causing you to squeal, and you could die, having made such a sound, except you’ve clearly already died and gone to heaven.

Even as his hand rubs, his lips never leave yours. You thrash in his grip when he slides a finger inside you, finding your g-spot with surprising quickness and pressing the fuck out of it, and he still chases your mouth, covering your chin in kisses. Your legs kick out as he alternates between fondling your clit and stroking your walls, until he suddenly stops, pulling his fingers out so he can rid you of your sweats.

“You still with me?” he asks, kneeling between your legs, and you wonder if you look as wrecked as you feel, sucking in air like a fish. You must be a mess, if your appearance matches how you feel. But you’re also excruciatingly aroused and frustrated, so close to coming that you’re ready to blow.

“Yes. I’m here, I’m good.”

“Good.” The Look™️ is back. He grabs your legs and bends them, pushing your thighs into your torso. “Here. Be a good girl and hold these.”

Yes, daddy. You bite your tongue to keep from screaming the words, and grasp your legs behind your knees, pulling them to the side as much as you can, opening you up wide.

“Yes, Channie.”

He smiles at that, eyes so dark you can almost see yourself. “So good for me. Hold tight, baby.”

He sticks out his tongue, eyebrows cocking as he dives down, tracing your folds lightly before flattening the pink muscle and dragging it heavily upwards. You keen as his hot mouth suctions onto your clit. He rolls your clit around with his tongue before flicking it in a quick motion, over and over.

“Jesus!” You’re a live wire, muscles jolting and twitching. As he continues working over the tiny bundle of nerves, his fingers slip inside you again, two this time, scissoring you apart, making room for his tongue.

You gasp as he plunges inside, tracing your inner walls. He’s so loud, the noises his mouth makes as he sucks and laps, and messy, too, slick dripping from his chin when he lifts his face, making sure you’re watching him. Of fucking course you’re watching him. There’s literally nothing else in the world you’d rather be looking at right now than Bang Chan, the hottest man in the galaxy, devouring your pussy like it’s his last meal.

“Tastes so good,” he rasps, turning his face to press sloppy kisses to your inner thigh. “Think you can hold out a little longer? Let me enjoy, yeah?”

At this point, you’re a fucking tinderbox, one spark and you’ll explode, but sure, why not let the man enjoy himself a little more?

“O-okay,” you stutter weakly. “I’ll… try.” You bite your lip. “But maybe…”

Chan brushes his lips over your slit. With a shaky hand, you let your left leg go so you can reach out, brushing some damp locks off his forehead, and he looks at you.

“Maybe a little slower?” you ask.

He smiles, nodding a little. “Got ya.”

Instead of pulling your hand back, you thread your fingers into his hair, and he hums, burying his face again. Only now, his tongue rolls slowly over your cunt, languidly, each pass taking longer and longer. He still keeps the pressure up, makes sure he’s pushing just as firmly against your sensitive folds, still fucks his tongue into you just as deeply as he was before, but now his movements aren’t so frenzied. They feel purposeful, like he’s intent on savoring the moment.

And you realize you should, too. So you barely blink as you observe everything he does - every kiss, every groan, every time his eyes close. You try to commit it all to memory, so you can relive this moment over and over again. In case this is it.

Chan keeps humming, not so much a melody as just wordless sounds, getting louder when your thighs start to squeeze a little. Your hand grips the roots of his hair, not so much guiding him as hanging on. Until he takes your clit in his mouth again, and you cry out, holding him in place.

“Right there, Channie, please!” Your voice breaks as you beg him not to stop. He doesn’t let up, not even when you release your death grip on your right leg, letting it fall over his shoulder like the other one. You dig your fingers into the blanket beneath you, fisting the material. “Fuck, just like that!”

Your hips rise off the bed as you start to hump his face, grinding harder and harder. Chan slides his fingers back into your already clenching hole and finds your g-spot again. You wail helplessly, mind already going, body not far behind, as your muscles start to contract, everything tightening -

“Fuuuuck!”

With a loud groan, you come all over Chan’s face. He keeps tonguing your clit through your orgasm, but has to use his hands to hold your thighs open so he doesn’t asphyxiate. You tug at his hair, riding out the waves of bliss on his mouth.

When you finally relinquish your grasp on his head, he stops. He slides your legs from his arms, then sits back on his heels to examine his handiwork.

You’re a limp noodle. No bones. No muscles. Couldn’t move if you tried. Your climax completely wiped you out, leaving nothing behind. But you’re a very happy noodle, practically purring as you smile at the ceiling.

Chan, on the other hand. Chan appears to be ready for the next round. A point made obvious by the massive erection he’s again sporting. You blink at him a few times.

“I’m going to need a minute.”

He laughs, draping himself over you, arm slung over your stomach, head on your shoulder. “Nah mate, you’re done.”

A rather petulant whine bubbles up from deep within you. “Nooo, I’m good, I’m good!”

You try to reach for his dick, but he catches your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. Which is a surprisingly sweet move, but not what you want right now. It’s not that you don’t want to cuddle with him - if he asked, you’d wrap yourself like a blanket around him and snuggle him for hours.

It’s that you’re not ready for this moment to be over.

“Relax,” he laughs. “Plenty of time for that later. Just rest for a bit.”

“Later?" There’s gonna be a later?

Chan kisses your neck lightly. “Yeah, later. Not done with you yet, baby.”

You sigh, bringing a hand up to stroke his back. Okay. Maybe a little nap is fine. If there’s going to be a later.

Fuck, you can’t wait to text Minho.

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜

I don't feel right tagging my usual tl since that was for my BTS writing, so I'm just gonna tag some moots that I think might like this:

@moni-logues @yoongimingyu @borahae-k @nabiolive @jikooknoona @sowoozoo-7 @eoieopda @here4btsfics @candlewaxandp0lar0ids @ballelino @starlostjimin @augustbutwinter @blueversaillesdreams @hobivore @hobi-gif @seokjinger-ale @hannahbee12719 feel free to tell me if I'm way off base, no pressure to actually read! 💕

#stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #bang chan imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #fic: coadm #bang chan fanfic

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coconutdays · 1 year ago

Text

drunk pt. 2

s. this is part two to this original post! my attempt at a mutual pining ??? slowburn??? with the Honored One, Gojo. Y'all fuck after one of those intense movie confession scenes yada yada.

w.c. 7.2k

w. fem! reader , gojo! x reader , fluff! , angst! , slowburn! , smut! ( I think the slowburn is lowk angsty in my opinion) y/n’s cursed technique is basically like Wanda from marvels abilities, I didn't proofread much srry, btw this is my first time executing a fully fledged fuck so bare with me I tried.

You had only minutely interacted with Satoru ever since that day you went cursed spirit hunting with him. It was normal, nothing was weird or out of the ordinary after, but everything seemed so dull in comparison to that day. Although you could say there was less of a chance to speak when he did go overseas for a couple of days. And you were partially grateful that it was like that. You couldn't fret over your feelings for him if he wasn't feeding you anything to reminisce on.

On one of your minuscule interactions with the famed sorcerer, he asked you to take his newbie first years to a cursed mansion while he would be busy scouring Spain for a key that did who knows what.

Which leads to the current situation at hand.

"What happened here?" Yuuji asks, kicking a stray pebble a few feet away and into the bushes

"The owner of this place slit the throats of everyone in the mansion at night, then shot himself in the head." You squinted at one of the far off windows of the mansion, spotting something that would have most likely been a cursed spirit.

"Gross." Nobara's face turns into one of disgust.

"What level cursed spirit does it have?" It's Megumi asking now

You turn to look at all of them, a glint in your eyes.

"Grade 1"

"WHAT?" Nobara stomps her foot, "Why is Gojo sending us out here on sui-"

"I'm here." You laugh, a red flame swirls around your irises, "I'm the second strongest after Gojo. Give me some credit."

"Gojo gives her most of his missions if he suddenly can't do them." Megumi points out, "We're safe."

"Not entirely." You shift your weight onto one of your hips and cross your arms, "I'm here to intervene if things start going south, which I hope they don't, but under the situation it does then I step in."

That was twenty minutes ago, and things had gone south.

You were ambushed by more than one Special grade in the mansion and left the three first-years to deal with a cursed spirit much akin to the one described in the correction facility that lead to Yuuji's death. The others were almost alike to it, but they were starting to speak, forming words more coherently by the minute.

"What the fuck."

There were four surrounding you, and the only reason they weren't going for the first-years was because you sealed them into the top floor with you. You would have rather dealt with this by yourself, considering you had to hold back because the first years were in the floor beneath you, but you'd have to make do with your seal.

Much to your surprise, halfway through your fight, you could hear the sounds of relief from the first-years and one less screeching curse.

Good, they exorcised it.

Both of your hands were busy repelling your opponents away from you as you neared the staircase so they could hear you.

"GO OUTSIDE! NOW!"

"But you're dealing with four of them!" Nobara started, "If you-"

"JUST WAIT FOR ME OUTSIDE! AND CALL IJICHI!"

You could hear Nobara starting to protest, but you could make out the grumbles of Megumi to place trust in you.

When you got a peek through the window of Yuuji's pink hair, you let out a sigh of relief. You didn't have to hold back anymore, but you weren't going to be able to be the one to take the first-years back to Jujutsu Tech after this.

What you considered the cursed energy equivalent of an atomic bomb was what you released within the enclosed top floor. You concentrated on it breaking apart the curses and squeezing them out of existence--much like a bomb would.

However, the aftermath would be something you'd leave the first years up to. You didn't have to hold back within the confines of the mansion, none of the students were in there, but they were directly outside, waiting for you in a position where contact with the explosion would hurt them. The moment you release your technique, the confines the mansion burst, pulverizing the curses out of existence and subjecting you to the sheer force of your cursed energy being concentrated into one subjectively small enclosed space.

Your cursed energy treated you like shrapnel and launched you headfirst into the concrete ground near the first-years. It was the last thing you remembered before everything after started fading in and out.

You were in the back of Ijichi's car, at the center with Megumi and Yuuji on either side, grabbing at your body. Why were they--

Oh, there's gaping wounds on your stomach and legs.

Nobara is frantically turning to look back from the front passenger seat again and again.

"Drive faster Ijichi!"

Maybe you could start using your cursed technique to heal-

"Oh fuck!" Yuuji starts

You start coughing violently into your lap

Was that blood from your wounds or-

"Ow."

It's the first thing you utter when you wake up, feeling an intense soreness all over your body. They're mere action of lifting up a finger sending shock bolts through your body.

"Finally someone's awake." Shoko sighs carelessly, she's on her phone looking through who knows what.

"How long have I been out?" You groan, closing your eyes to mentally prepare for her to say 3 days or something along those lines.

"Two weeks." She gets up and walks to serve you some water as your eyes shoot open, "Constricting a nuclear explosion to only the confines of a mansion was not a smart decision."

You lean up against your pillows and start to rub your sore neck, "The first-years were right outside of the mansion. I had no other choice."

"Still not your best moment." She blinks tiredly, her careless look on her face.

"How are they anyway?"

"Fine. Small cuts and bruises. They were fine by the end of the day. Gojo's got them in the classroom right now."

"He's back from Spain already?"

"He came back the day after the mansion incident. Thought you would've remembered him poking your head to see if you could hear him this morning." She started to write on a chart, probably yours.

"I don't." You start to look through your faint memories to see if it held onto anything like that.

Nothing.

"Well, you should be fine to go home already." Shoko starts to walk out of your room, raising the chart she was just scribbling on moments ago, "You check out just fine. Get some rest before they probably send you on another mission by tomorrow."

By the time you put on some clothes, provided by Shoko, and take a shower at your place to soothe your muscles, it's been a few hours, leaving Gojo to stare at an empty infirmary bed, your scent lingering in the room.

"She woke up a couple hours ago, must be home already." Shoko mindlessly says as she walks back to her office with a stack of folders in her arms.

After your shower, you're on your couch watching a comfort show of yours while you snack on some ice cream to wallow your feelings in. The reason for your being upset quite obvious.

He should've known you were awake by now. Why wasn't he checking on you.

It annoyed you, both the fact that for someone who had been at your bedside this morning, he hadn't shown up to receive you in your awake state, and that you cared so much you started thinking like his girlfriend.

Satoru didn't owe it to you to come see you. He wasn't yours to be obliged and neither were you his to expect it.

But fuck if you couldn't help checking your phone every five minutes to see if he'd text or call you. Hell, you'd love for him to show up announced any moment.

He didn't though.

You went to sleep upset that night--mostly at him--it wasn't his fault for not showing up, but your heart couldn't help but be disappointed by his lack of presence.

You got called in by Jujutsu High to help train the second-years the following day. A mission with five special grades seemed more appealing when you considered the fact that you'd more than likely see Satoru once there.

"Look who's awake."

Gojo is suddenly walking next to you as you lead the second-years to the sparring grounds. He doesn't look in your direction, merely facing ahead, but he has that same unbothered smile on his face--it bugs you.

He releases a handsome chuckle before starting again, "You drool a little when you're knocked out. Did ya know that?"

"No, I didn't, Satoru." You exhale, distracting yourself by looking for a nice spot to have the students duel.

"It's quite--"

"Shut up Gojo, we have to spar."

Both of you turn to see Makki scowling at the object of most people's irritation, including yours. She's ready to fight, earnestly tugging at the straps of her bag of weapons.

"You pain me, Makki," He grins, fixing his posture to walk away, "Alright, then. Learn well from y/n, she's the second best after all."

He walks in the opposite direction from you guys, trying to taste the last breath he inhaled when he was next to you before he had to let it go. It was his own pitiful attempt at basking in your presence rather than letting his inhibitions crumble and grabbing you by the shoulders to ask if you were okay? what the hell were you thinking? he shouldn't have sent you on that mission, he'd apologize if he let that part of himself come through. If. But he won't do that.

The second-years did learn from you. Makki the most, almost coming close to handing you your ass in hand to hand combat after taking in a bit of advice from you. Her semblance in physical fortitude was getting closer and closer to Toji Zenin every day. Nonetheless, the keyword was almost. She almost won and probably could have been closer to that if you weren't so ticked off by Satoru Gojo. You were in such a zone, honed in on the negativity he procured for you by not giving you the attention you wanted, that you barely spoke while focusing on Makki's every move besides giving advice, your usual praise and teasing gone.

You showered after, the heat of the sun and physical exertion making you uncomfortable in your own sweat and forcing you to take the quickest train to your place instead of getting a ride. And you didn't want to come across him again.

The feelings were too much.

It was why you found yourself halfway through a bottle of whiskey, snacking on a charcuterie board you ordered for the fucks of it. You're wearing another set of those "skimpy pjs" as Gojo had put it and staring out your balcony to gaze at the city's night lights.

You just want him so bad.

You want to kiss him. You want to be in his embrace and tell him he the prettiest eyes ever. And he's a womanizer, it chisels away at your heart. God, he's probably tongue deep in a pretty blonde right now. There's tears raining down on your cheeks and you don't bother to wipe them away, choosing to take another swig of whiskey and accompanying it with a slice of prosciutto to tug some of the sharp aftertaste away.

It hurts, wanting him. He just needs to get from you. You need to get away from him. Fuck the friendship, fuck everything.

ding!

There's someone at your door and you're up to check who the hell is at your apartment on a Friday at 1 a.m. like a lunatic. Your guard slightly goes up the closer you get to your door, the idea of someone dangerous being behind the door coming across your mind. There's a patch of goosebumps raising at the back of your neck, suddenly growing alert at your own thoughts as you tip toe to your peep hole.

And of course it's someone dangerous.

"What do you want Gojo." You don't bother to be much curious about it. You want him out of your face.

He's standing in front of you with his stupid handsomeness. That same bottle of whatever he ordered the other night in his left hand and his irritating smirk on his face along with those blacked out glasses. He's wearing black pants and a tight black shirt too, you can even see a sliver of a silver chain on his neck.

You don't see, hear, or even notice it when it happens, but his breath hitches in the quick fire second between your deadpan question of his whereabouts at your apartment and his teasing question at your teary face.

"Aw, you cryin'?" He tilts his head, canines bearing as his lips curve further up.

It makes you want to use his own red, purple, blue, or whatever fucking color of the rainbow on him. He's a complete ass. Satoru Gojo is a waste of your time. He should forget your address, your number, your favorite croissant filling, everything.

You just want him away from you, where he won't hurt you.

"Yes. Insensitive piece of shit asshole!" You shout, grabbing at your door handle.

"Get out of my face!"

You shut your door forcefully and carelessly, paying no mind to your surroundings or neighbors in your drunken haze.

When you turn around, he's already behind you.

The wine bottle is already on your kitchen island and Gojo's towering over you, his eyebrows scrunched just a bit and his eyes continuously trying to analyze you as his irises move back and forth. He had taken his glasses off, they were hanging off the collar of his shirt now.

Your nose twitches a bit, cursing his ability to teleport. The hate you hold for it becoming a heavy pit in your stomach.

"Get out." The twitch in your nose goes off again.

The panic of the situation is startling to Gojo. You look beautiful, the skimpy pink romper you're wearing is all consuming to him, he wants to rip it off and take you to your room. The crying fit you were just having had softened your features and god the little twitch you keep doing with your nose–

And you're angry at him for some reason.

No, he's stupid. It's his fault, you were crying and instead of letting himself worry about you like a normal person, he teased you about it. His own realization makes him scramble to fix his previous statement.

"No–look I'm sorry for asking like a jerk. Why are you crying?" He takes another step closer to you, pressuring you into answering his question.

Gojo was trying to get a physical tell out of you. You had healed from the mission, right? And sparring with the second-years couldn't have left you pummeled. He couldn't see any wounds on you.

He felt the rise of his hand to cup your cheek, to force you to look at him and tell him what was wrong.

No, he can't.

You look up at him defiantly, biting your cheek and beginning to grow angrier, angry at him, angry at your heart, angry at the tears that still manage to flow down your cheeks.

You take a step back and reiterate yourself.

"Get out, Gojo."

There's a linger of hurt in his eyes, along with confusion when his eyebrows scrunch even more. You can see he's at a loss for words when his mouth keeps slightly opening and closing and his eyes look like they're psychoanalyzing you.

You roll your eyes in a teary frustration and stomp your foot like a two year old throwing a fit when he doesn't move even in the slightest to leave.

"Please, Gojo! Just leave!" You cry, voice cracking, "Get out of my apartment, leave me alone, I don't–"

You almost yelp at the sudden intrusion of your personal space. He's got an iron grip on your hands all of a sudden, forcing them out of the way in case you try to push him away physically this time. And he's staring only dead into your eyes now, an overall concerned look on his face that overpowers his slight irritation at your stubbornness.

"Tell me why you're crying."

You try to loosen out of his grip, only for it to do nothing like you knew it would. It forces you to scrunch your nose in distaste and turn your cheek to him.

"I don't want to see you." You mutter, your voice audibly nasally and battered from the crying fit you were having.

Gojo brings you closer to him with a simple tug of his hands, he leans closer to your face.

"Why." His breathing starts to pick up and it sounds less like a question and more like a sound of offense.

"Let go of me."

"Not until you answer me." He tightens his grip on you just a little for emphasis, to show you that he really won't let go until you fulfill his request.

You still don't want to look at him. You can feel his laser like stare at you, pinning you down and pressuring you into giving him what he wants. It's all too much, his touch is searing to your skin and the fact that his body is so close to yours in hazing your mind. It's so much that you have no choice but to turn to finally look at him and it sends you back to the state you were previously in before he rung your doorbell.

You feel the hot wads of tears start to tumble off your waterline as you vomit a singular word.

"You."

He reels his head back a bit in confusion, "What, I–"

"You! I'm crying because of you!" You babble through your hiccups and tears, "And you show up like a jerk! You didn't even care that I was crying! And–"

"What makes you think I don't care about you?" He jeers you closer, his tone obviously offended now.

"Are you getting early dementia or something! You did that stupid aw you crying bullshit!" The situation growing worse as your eyes go completely bloodshot and there's hiccups continuously interrupting your speech.

"You didn't even care that I woke up! Today, you just came by to be a dick about me drooling! Yesterday, you didn't even show up to see me after I left the infirmary!"

His grip loosens a bit at your declaration of mistrust in his care for you.

He cares. He really cares. You can't keep saying he doesn't, he thinks. He left Spain the moment he got an angry text from Nobara that the mission he entrusted to you left you on death's door. He spent every free moment of his walking by or into your recovery room. He walked by your apartment last night to see if you were okay, his eyes had seen you sleeping safe and sound and it was enough to soothe his heart.

None of which you knew about, he realizes.

By now, you've broken free from his grasp, taking advantage at his loss of words, and fleeing to your bedroom. A loud bang followed the small pit pats of your bare feet on the floor, and it brought him back to reality.

Gojo now stares at the front door of your apartment, eyes still glued to where you were previously standing. He feels like his heart is stuck in his throat, unable to come out and run towards you like it wants to out of fear. He can hear his heartbeat pulsating in the cold silence of your apartment and it makes him confront himself instead of you.

You thought he didn't care and it made you upset.

And the mere fact is gut-wrenching for him.

It's so devastating to him, that his feet are suddenly driving him towards your room and his hands are opening the door.

He noticed the half empty bottle of whiskey and glass on your kitchen island as he passed by too. It makes him even more wary as he stands underneath the doorframe and sees you sat at the edge of your bed, head in your hands and violently crying.

"I care about you."

You hear him, but you don't have the energy to beg him to leave anymore or even notice him. You're spent and too embarrassed of your outburst to look at him.

Gojo wishes you could look at him. He wants the security of your eyes being there for him to bask in and it has him walking to kneel on the ground in front of you.

You feel his hands, soft and tough at the same time, pulling yours down, away from your face. It forces you to look down at him. You see the breath he lets out in relief the moment you make eye contact with him.

You're so weak, you can't help but melt into the feeling of his hands on yours now. A salty tear makes its last run on your face and you're nothing but a sniffling and hiccuping mess as you stare back at him.

He speaks again, "I am so sorry."

"Can you please stop touching me." You rasp out, suddenly becoming aware of how much more painful this is for you when he's feeding into youre delusions.

You can feel his blood stop pulsing for some reason. His hands are suddenly dead weight and his eyes widen.

"I can't do this anymore." You breathe out nasally, readying yourself to ruin your friendship with him.

"I love you Satoru."

It comes out heavy, like a massive paper weight on the air both of you were breathing.

And suddenly, he starts to feel his blood pumping again, the hands holding yours beginning to grow firm in their grip. His chest moves up and down even faster as he stares at you because his brain just short-circuited. He thought the inner works of his domain and technique were all he ever had to worry about handling, but this is taking the cake. Infinity and the knowledge it covers is nothing compared to what you just said.

"And–" You have to take a pause to stop the tears brimming on your waterline again, "it really hurts pining after you. I shouldn't be upset at you for not showing up at my doorstep yesterday like a boyfriend would. I wouldn't be if I weren't such a fool for you."

You're harshly wiping a tear off your cheek out frustration before you continue. You try to settle the now free hand away from him, on your lap, but he takes it back, still looking up at you without a trace of a word making an appearance on his mouth.

"I need you out of my life. I want to move on." You plead, "I can't be in the same room as you or else ill think about how bad I want to be next to you. I can't be this close to you and not kiss you. I want to wake up after getting hurt from a mission and not drown myself in whiskey because you didn't show up at my door to check on me."

"No."

Gojo is looking at you like you're an idiot. His face is twisted in a mix of offense and disgust, part of his nose is wrinkled and his eyebrows are twisted.

"Gojo–"

"Stop calling me by my last name." He cuts, eyes now harsh on you.

You're confused now, bleary eyes trying to understand him and how negative he seems right now. You want to say something, but everything you can think of is at the tip of your tongue and you're opening and closing your mouth like a fish on dry land.

Gojo looks like he wants to say something too, and like he knows what he wants to say, but he's struggling to just spit it out as he minimally glares at you. If you squint hard enough though, you might have just been able to see the slight gloss of sadness color over his eyes.

"I don't want you out of my life." He shakes his head, eyebrows still furrowed.

You sniffle, "But I just said that–"

You're pulled down by your hands and your face lands right smack on his, followed by a kiss ensued by him.

The kiss is enough to send you to sleep, it's soothing and everything you need to forget all your worries. And it's a little salty, a byproduct of your fit, but it doesn't seem to matter when Gojo reaches a hand up to your cheek and deepens his reach a little, a low grunt of affection coming from his throat when you let out a sigh.

It was short-lived, but it said enough.

When Satoru pulls back, he's still concentrated on looking for tells on your face, trying to make he got his point across.

"I've been putting you at the back of my mind for the past two years." He confesses sternly meanwhile he caresses both of your hands with his thumbs, rubbing soothing circles in the wake of his words. "I care about you so much I force myself not to." The last few words giving him the inclination to hang his head in shame.

"And I am so sorry it made you cry." He sighs in defeat, raising up both of your hands to kiss them as an apology. He's looking up at you with his big blue eyes, pleading for your mercy and you want to move, you want to act. It's why you lean down and give him a small peck on the lips to wake him up a little then dive back in again to kiss him.

It doesn't last long in that position–merely five seconds–until Satoru starts rising and pushing you back onto the bed softly. He pushes you forward onto the bed to make room for his legs before one of his hands is perched right next to your head and the other is guiding your thigh to wrap your leg around his waist.

Your hands run and grasp at his hair and neck, making sure to appreciate the feeling of his skin beneath your hands.

You begin to moan when he starts using tongue on you and it gets a rise out of him in the form of him grinding his bulge against your crotch.

"Satoru."

"Fuck." He groans, breathing hard as he kisses you. He can't just leave after this. He can't go back to his apartment. Hell he doesn't even know if he could pull himself away from you right now if there were a sudden emergency.

He feels you moving underneath him and he opens his eyes mid kiss to see you moving down the straps of your romper. The action causes him to pull back so he can see what you're trying to do.

"What are you doing?" He breathes, lips rosy and glossy from both of you guys' spit.

You free your arms from the thin pink straps right as he says that and look him in the eyes when you pull the spandex like material below your breasts.

"What I just did." You nod down innocently towards your boobs.

"Fuck. Fuck." He groans, reaching to palm both of them. It only lasts for a second before he starts to pinch at them, rubbing them between his fingers and eliciting whimpers from you.

"Yeah, just like that baby."

It makes move your hips up in search of him and it has him leaning back down to kiss you, needier this time. Satoru includes more tongue than anything, wanting to just be in you, in your skin, everywhere, as close as he can get.

You start to yank at the bottom his shirt soon enough.

"Take this off." You whine

Easily and quickly, he complies to your request, grabbing his shirt by the collar and taking it off of his body. He throws it behind him and is about to lean back down when his eyes go astray towards your crotch.

There's a wet patch very obviously soaking through and he can see the mold of your pussy sticking to the damp material. It makes his cock jump at the sight and he can't help but run a finger across your slit.

It makes a shiver run up your spine and a moan leave your mouth.

"You like that?" He's staring you down when you look back at him after having shut your eyes in pleasure.

"Mhm." You nod, eyebrows furrowed and eyes blown wide with lust as you take both of his hands and make him grab the material of your romper. "Take it off of me."

Satoru doesn't need to say anything as he obeys your request. He pulls at your pajamas and helps you slide it off your legs, too overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation to make any witty or teasing comments.

What wasn't part of your request was when he held both of your legs up in the air by squishing your thighs together and dove straight for your pussy.

You almost scream at the sudden intrusion of him initiating a makeout session with your pussy. The squishing of your legs making the sensation more intense for some reason. You can hear Satoru groaning into you while he sucks on your clit. He shifts his weight so that his arm is wrapped around your legs to keep them together and you wonder why he switches to only one until you feel a singular digit of his sliding into your walls.

" 'Toru." You moan, legs twitching a bit when you feel him hook a finger up and apply pressure to that one spot that has you begging for more.

"Gimme another one, please." You urge, fisting at the sheets next to you for some sort of relief.

"I got on the first flight back the second I heard what happened." He confesses, breath raggedy as he peers over from the side of your legs and gives you the other finger you asked for. His entire lower side of his is glistening, you almost feel embarrassed that it's your juices.

He continues confessing and pumping his fingers in and out of you, the squelching noises accompanying his words.

"I was scared shitless." He almost grieves, a messy confusion of his own sexual energy and his pleading for your forgiveness. Satoru starts to plant a flutter of kisses along your thigh while he keeps his eyes on you. "I love you so much." He groans, extremely turned on by the increasing pulsing of your walls and the faces you keep making.

"Yea? Oh fuck–" The last five words he uttered were adding even more ecstasy to your euphoria and had started to plummet you into your orgasm when coupled with the deeper and faster pace Satoru introduced.

"Come on, pretty. Cum for me." Satoru almost sounds like he's begging, mouth opening in awe in sync with yours at the overwhelming sense of pleasure crashing over you.

It comes out in a long mix between a moan and a whine, along with the wriggle of your hips and legs as Satoru keeps moving his fingers in and out while you ride out your high.

You're heaving when it washes over and you're about to flinch at the overstimulation of Satoru's fingers when he pulls them out and puts them in his mouth. You can see him slightly roll his eyes back when he hollows his cheeks a bit to fully clean his fingers off and get your taste out of them.

Satoru lets go of the grip he had keeping your legs up, and he gets up to quickly take his pants off, followed by his boxers, and–

"You're big." You marvel, sitting up now and admiring the view, also trying to wrap your head around the fact that he's going to hurt. He's pretty and long, reaching a bit past his belly button when it slaps against his stomach, and his girth is scream worthy.

When Satoru looks down, you look so innocent, peering at him through your lashes before focusing your gaze back on his length. He sees your thighs shift against each other–a boost to his ego and his horniness–but he can also tell you're a little freaked out by the sheer size.

"We don't have to." He heaves earnestly, chest rising and falling a bit faster than usual out of pent up sexual aggression from fingering you and watching you cum, and the need to be inside of you right now, which he'd be more than capable of stowing away for now if you didn't feel comfortable taking him.

"We can make it fit." You reassure softly and lean up to tug one of his hands to you in the bed while his eyes widen.

Satoru is in between your legs now, eyeing you down with lust blown pupils, an animal like stare that has you shrinking into the bed the more it lingers. Truth be told, he doesn't know how to act now that he's got you underneath him, legs spread, and your pretty little face waiting for him to do something.

His first move is to kiss you again, he missed your lips in the brief few minutes he was eating you out and fingering you. The kiss makes your skin crawl and pull him closer to you by the shoulders you have your arms wrapped around.

His cock lands right between your lips after that and it makes both of you suck in a breath the contact, a needy grind of both of yours' hips following.

"I want you inside of me 'Toru." You sigh against his ear as he dips his head down into your neck, mouthing and biting.

You feel his grip in the sheets right next to your head tighten and manage to get a view of his large and broad back contorting at the sentence.

"How bad do you want it?" He almost snarls, moving his hips so his cock keeps sliding between your folds, gathering your slick on his shaft and stimulating your clit in the process. His head leans down even further and he's sucking on your nipple, nipping a bit to get squeals out of you for not answering him as fast he wanted you to.

"I want it really bad." You can't stand the pulsating between your legs anymore, your hips can only move towards him for so long before you feel like you'll die. You needily scratch at his back when his other hand pinches your nipple particularly hard. "I feel like I'm gonna die if you don't fuck my pussy right now." It comes out whiny and high-pitched, the overall want for him making you pathetic.

He comes back up with a crazed stare more intense than the last one and dives for your mouth again, aggressive and overwhelming, like he wants to swallow you whole. There's teeth and tongue everywhere, you wouldn't be surprised if your lips were bleeding by the end of this.

When you're caught up in the feeling of his chest on yours and his heavy breathing against yours while you kiss, he starts lining himself up to your entrance. The intrusion of his fat tip in your hole interrupting your ability to kiss and making your jaw go slack.

You start to lift your hips off the bed without thinking and Satoru wraps his arm around your waist to keep you in place. He hasn't moved any further, basking in the invitation of your warmth and giving you time to adjust.

"It's so big." You mutter, hand in his hair and the other holding onto his back for dear life while you look at the rest you have to take.

It's the first time he even so much as smiles a little when he looks up at you and you see a glint of his canines and a glossed over look in his eyes. "Yea?"

"Mhm." You nod, eyebrows knitting when he pulls back and inches in a little further with a shallow thrust.

He drops his head into your neck, trying to keep himself from biting the bullet and completely pushing into you in one go. "Fuck." He moans when he thrusts back in again

He picks up the pace a little with every shallow thrust that gets him an inch deeper in you and by the time he's fully in, he's giving you hard and punctual thrusts. You're close to screaming every time he bottoms out, mouth open while you whine and moan. It makes him take advantage and he swallows your noises by shoving his tongue down your throat. He licks at your tongue, almost as if he's trying to wrap around it like you're doing to him.

"Love –hearin' –that –pretty fuckin –pussy –take me." He grunts against your lips, punctuating between almost every word with a sharp thrust into you. The soft squelching sounds reminding him that he's very much inside of you and making a mess of you.

"I–" You struggle to speak, the sex taking away your ability to speak.

And Satoru doesn't care, reaching a hand up to your chin to make you look at him as he keeps pummeling into you. "You what baby?"

The petname only adds to your euphoria, making it even more difficult to respond to him. But he's still got your chin in his hand, and he's not showing any signs of looking away or stopping his pace.

"I–I mmmmm–I love–love you."

His eyes soften a little, still as ravenous considering he's pummeling your pussy for the first time, but they soften just a smidge nonetheless. And he moves the hand holding your chin to cup your cheek, running a soothing thumb as he returns the affection to you.

"I love you too. Fuck you're clamping down so tight. Shit. I love you so much y/n. Don't want anybody else to have you. Oh, god. You make me so fucking crazy."

The hand previously on your cheek is now snaking its way down, stopping until his thumb is rubbing your clit and eliciting porn worthy moans from you at the added stimulation.

"You're gonna make me cum Satoru." You breathe out, high pitched and almost moaning loud enough to wake up anyone within the vicinity of your building

The warning is an incentive for Satoru to lift one of your legs up, letting him reach deeper and keep the same pace that has your pussy doing that familiar chasing spasm around his cock now instead of his fingers.

"Cum for baby." He gasps out, abs flexing as he struggles with his own pleasure. "I know you fuckin can. Please. Please. Please. Need to feel it on my dick."

By the fourth thrust in the new position your stomach drops and your legs are spasming trying to close and fidget, but Satoru's iron grip on you stops it from happening. He keeps fucking you through it, staring at you as he does, making sure to frame the picture of you coming on his cock for the first time in his head for all of eternity.

There's less resistance from you when you fall limp after and just take it. Your legs feel like jelly and fall even more moldable to Satoru's physical requests, letting him push your leg farther back and dig even deeper into you how he wants. You know it hurts, that you're supposed to at least try to push away his cock from molding into you again and again even after you've reached your peak, but it just feels so damn good to hurt this way. All you can do is squeal after every thrust of his. And when you feel his pace grow sloppier and faster, it makes you reach for his neck and hair, roping him into you.

"I'm gonna cum." Satoru's cheeks are rosy and his eyes are glazed over as he looks at you, desperation for his release written all over them.

"Cum for me 'Toru." You whine, eyes almost rolling back from a particular jolt of his hips and leaning up as much as you can to plant a chaste kiss on his bottom lip. "Want your cum to fill me up. I need it so bad."

"Please, 'Toru. Cum in me, please."

It drives him over the edge. He drops his weight on you to kiss you through the stuttering of his hips and jolts of his cum into you. You feel his warmth pooling inside of you and can hear both of you guys' labored breathing after the whirlwind sex you just had.

Satoru's rough and passionate kisses from seconds ago turned into chaste quick ones that he kept stealing from you until he shifted his weight from his palm to his forearm and cupped the side of your face, affectionally moving a stray hair from your forehead.

His sky blue eyes peered down at you, taking in the sight intensely, as if any moment you could try to push him away from your life again.

"You're so beautiful." He breathes in awe, gaze turned soft.

"So are you." You replicate his tone, cupping his face in return and appreciating the fact that he looks so pretty and handsome in the moonlight seeping through your floor to ceiling windows right now.

He grabs at one of the hands on his face and brings it to his lips, placing a warm kiss atop of it.

"I was here last night." He confesses, "I passed by your apartment to see if you were fine while you were sleeping." He wants to look away in shame. "I didn't think– There was–"

Satoru closes his eyes in frustration for a second at himself before finding his footing again.

"I've been doing everything I can to be there for you without you knowing, without me knowing, I didn't even know I was going to spend the entire day with you that other day until my mouth found a reason to make it about work."

He sighs at himself before he continues, "I care."

"I spent every moment I could waiting for you to wake up. I checked on your apartment to clean it. I looked for your cursed energy anytime I was within a vicinity of the school to see if you were recovering. I care."

You're close to speechless at his confession, resisting the urge to pull him down and litter his entire face in kisses, instead forcing yourself to speak.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you." You return sheepishly, feeling bad for the tantrum you threw at him.

"It's fine." Satoru reassures, planting a kiss on your forehead before looking down at where the two of you are connected. "How are you feeling?"

"Good." You bite your lip sweetly, letting a little bit of your love fueled smile come through while you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer in your embrace. "I could never cum like that by myself."

Satoru leers over you like a predator now, a full smile showing through and distinctly premiering his canines, his ego was stroked, "Good thing I'm here now then."

"Mhm" You nod eagerly, matching the upturn of his lips too.

"Oh. Come here." He groans and laughs a little, a hand on your back when he flips the both of you over and litters your face with kisses. Your giggles fuel him and he pulls you closer to him.

Neither of you are going to let go again.

#I did not know this would only be two parts LOL #also did not know this would turn into a smut but then I got to a point where I was like bro who wouldn't start fucking here #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satoru gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo smut

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suguru-getos · 11 months ago

Note

Not sure if your requests are open or not, but if they are would you pretty please write a yandere Gojo who's darling is upset because he left her alone on her birthday to go "play" with his new best friend Geto instead? Like, he legit forgot it was anyone's birthday at all? But his darling tries to be sweet and understanding even though she's deeply hurt by him suddenly neglectjbg her so much? Pretty please and thank you. 😘🙏

Heyy!! I don’t take requests but I really like this prompt. Thanks for sending 🙇🏻‍♀️🩵 to be very honest Yandere Gojo would never forget his darling’s birthday. :DD Even normal Toru chan wouldn’t. ;))

Warnings: Toxic Toru :(( // Reader doesn’t really love love him but is in a major Stockholm Syndrome typa-thang. Forced fluff, implied sexual thingys.

You sighed, it’s been long past twelve and out of all the people who have wished you yet, Satoru isn’t one of them. It hurts because he could have gotten super mad and punished you for forgetting his birthday. Coming up with excuses thar you forgot the one person’s special day who should be meaning the most to you. A shiver runs through your spine to imagine the extent of his rage if that were to happen. Is it because you’re powerless compared to him? Is that why he doesn’t care about you? Why else would he go around Geto Suguru and not you.

Satoru comes back around 2 am, a little tipsy but you know he’s a lightweight so he must’ve not drunk much. He watches your tired eyes draping his form and raises a brow. “Aww, how cute? My Princess stayed up for me? You wanted to sleep with me that bad sweetheart?” Your lip quivered at his familiar, patronizing tone. It was your birthday. Your birthday! God damn it!

You looked down, trying to form the right words. “Toru, s’ my birthday today. I waited for your wish.”

It’s like he’s been anchored by the feet at rock bottom sea. He can’t breathe — surely he must not — oh fuck! He did. He forgot his sweet princess’ birthday… shit! “Oh- oh no- I’m so sorry! Oh no-” his beefy arms are quick to wrap around you, hugging you snug against his chest. “Please baby, m’ sorry. You never make a biggie out of it so I forgot.” He pouted, kissing your forehead and stealing apologetic kisses. You gnaw at your lip and looked down. “It’s okay, Toru.” Oh he knows it’s not okay.

Part of him dreads that you’d leave him & he doesn’t want to, but he’s close to acting out. “Are you going to leave me because of it, Cupcake?” He asks tenderly, though you know better & you’ve learnt better. “N-no! Of course not Toru. I’d never leave you.” You shake your head no like a trained bobblehead. Satoru takes a sigh, six-eyes trying to find out any hidden intents behind your words.

He sighed with defeat, “Pretty girl, I know, that was so careless and bad of me. Really bad. Let me make it up to you? I’d let you meet your friends!” He chirped. To live under Gojo Satoru means to live under his wing & his wing alone. He couldn’t care less if you’re lonely. All the more reason to ensure that your world revolves around him, no?

“Come here.” He craddles you against his lap, kissing your knuckles, your chin, your forehead, leaning in and kissing your clothed breasts. With Satoru, you’d never know how things might turn sexual. You do resist this time though, you don’t have the emotional capacity to endure this & be treated like a toy.

“I’m sorry Toru, can’t.” You leaned away with a subtle flinch. His brows furrow at the rejection but he knows he’s fucked up. “Alright Baby girl. I wouldn’t. Ssh~ let me make it up.” His phone comes out & he orders a cake — of course he would know your favorite flavor by now. He grins wide. “Thank god it’s still night ~ Tomorrow, I’m going to make sure you forget my fuck up! I promise!” He sounds so determined it helps you to feel less shitty. However the neglect still seeps through. Maybe because you’ve been living with him that he’s taking you for granted.

A snap of fingers shoves your trail of thoughts astray. “Ssh~ eyes here, mind here.” Satoru cooes, cupping your face and leaning his forehead against yours. “You know I love you, right? To the point of insanity.” It’s when he starts to get serious that makes you uncomfortable. You squirm a little at his words, nodding meekly.

“Then stop thinking wild thoughts or Toru has to be mean to your meanie thoughts & you wouldn’t like it.” He says it in such a delirious baby-talking way it makes you choke out on any thoughts whatsoever anyway. “Y-yeah..”

You know Satoru will make a big deal out of your birthday tomorrow. Might as well enjoy, even if it’s forced.

#gojo satoru #yandere gojo #yandere jjk #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #jujustu kaisen x reader #jjk angst #jjk comfort #gojo angst #gojo comfort

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kaziwi · 1 year ago

Text

Don't Mention It

Character(s): Law

WC: 1,153

Summary: You and the crew celebrate Law's birthday...but not in the way he'd expect

Note: happy birthday law <3

Law slowly opened his eyes, waking up from a good nights rest. It was rare for the captain of the Heart Pirates to get his full 8 hours, but after Bepo had asked to cuddle he couldn't say no. The soft fur and warmth radiating from Bepo lulled him to sleep, and now he lied awake, way behind his schedule.

He knew what today was. His birthday. Law just never liked the idea of birthdays...and the memories that came with them. Each year he begged the crew not to mention it, and treat it as a normal day, but they always failed to do so. He hoped this year would be different.

Law quickly changed out of his pajamas and made himself look presentable. He could already hear the teasing from Shachi and Penguin for waking up late. As he left his quarters, he noticed the Polar Tang to be surprisingly quiet. He made his way to the kitchen and was shocked to see a whole buffet of food laid across the table. And the best part...there was no bread.

"Mornin Cap! Never thought I'd see the day when you slept in," Ikkaku teased as she washed the dishes. He didn't even notice her here.

"This is more breakfast than we usually eat...is it for...special occasion?" Law obviously knew this was for his birthday, but for some reason he wanted to hear someone else say it.

"Hmm, I don't think so...unless I'm forgetting something."

Oh...that was kinda weird...Ikkaku didn't mention it was his birththday. No matter, someone else was bound to eventually.

Law sat down and began to take some of the food that was spread across the table. In all honesty it was probably the best breakfast he'd ever eaten. He handed his plate to Ikkaku and began to make his rounds.

He had expected to see Shachi and Penguin goofing off, or having to fix something that Bepo messed up, but everything was perfect. The ship was at top maintenance and all of the chores were completed. When he had gone back to question Ikkaku about where everyone was, she said they had all gone out to the island they docked at to explore.

It's not like Law didn't enjoy the quiet, he basically begged for it everyday, but it just felt strange. He decided to use this opportunity to go to his room and read a new medical textbook he got. Hopefully that would help to pass the time.

Knock Knock

"Captainnnnnn open upppppp!!!"

Law didn't even know how much time had passes, but it seemed Shachi and Penguin were back from exploring the island. Law reluctantly let them in, knowing that they were going to make a big deal about it being his birthday now.

"Cap you will never believe what we found," Shachi started.

"Close your eyes and hold out your hands okay, trust us," Penguin said excitingly.

Law let out a long sigh and indulged their request. Something was put in his hands. It wasn't too heavy...but it wasn't light either. He opened his eyes, and his jaw almost dropped. It was the limited edition Sora Warrior of the Sea art book. He could see how Shachi and Penguin's faces beamed at his reaction.

"I knew you'd like it Cap! We saw it while exploring today and knew we had to get it for you!" Penguin said while Shachi nodded in agreement.

"Wow this is...," Law started, "Amazing, thank you both.."

Caught up in the excitement of his new gift, Law almost forgot that this had to be a birthday gift, there was no way it wasn't.

"So, what prompted you to get this gift," Law questioned, "Was it because it's a special day today?"

"Is it? We just saw it and thought you'd like it," Penguin said, looking at Shachi.

"Yeah, I mean we can return it if you'd like," Shachi chimed in.

"No! No you don't have to. I really like it, thank you again," Law said with a hint of disappointment. Was it really a coincidence that they bought him this gift, or were they lying about not knowing it was his birthday. He ushered them out of his room and sat back his desk. There was no way the whole crew forgot it was his birthday....right?

Throughout the rest of the day, each one of the Heart Pirates made their way to Law's room and gave him a gift. Even Bepo came in with a bouquet of flowers (they were actually weeds) that he has picked just for Law.

Law was very appreciative of all the gifts, but was a little sad no one had said happy birthday yet. He knew each year he begged them not to, but now that they hadn't acknowledged it at all....he almost missed the attention.

It wasn't till later that night, after they had eaten his favorite dinner, made only entirely by "coincidence", that he got his first happy birthday.

Knock Knock

"Come in Y/N-ya," Law said, eyes not looking up from his book. He could already tell it was you, since you were the only one not to visit today.

You walked in, holding something behind your back.

"Happy birthday Captain," you said with a big smile. Law looked up, a little shocked by your words, and stared into your eyes.

"You..said it.."

"I mean, I'm sure you realized that all of the gifts, the ship being in tip top shape, and the food wasn't all a coincidence. Everyone wanted to make your day easier and fun! We just didn't want to mention it was your birthday since you always tell us not to....but I'm sure by now you figured it out."

Law really hadn't thought that all of these acts were for his birthday. He had a small suspicion, but without anyone confirming it he didn't want to get his hopes up.

"I know my gift isn't as big as everyone else's," you smiled sheepishly, "But I still hope that you'll like it!"

You handed a small box to Law as he took it with caution. He opened it up and gasped at it's contents.

Inside was about 40 collectors coins, all ones he didn't have in his collection.

"Y/N-ya...how...I mean.."

"I started finding them a few islands ago and decided to get as many as I could for your birthday! Everyone else also pitched in a little and gave one to me if they found one!"

He dumped the coins on his desk. Each one with a new island's name on it. Sabaody....Water 7....Alabasta...and even some places he hadn't even heard of.

"Thank you," Law said, a soft grin appearing on his face, "Tell everyone else I said thank you too."

"Of course Captain," you said as you left the room, eager to tell everyone that operation "Celebrate Law's birthday and also respect his wishes by not mentioning it" was a success.

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kaleldobrev · 4 months ago

Text

Jennifer Love Hewitted (6) — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, Dean Winchester, Joey Baxter (Ghost!OC) & Dr. Falko (Ghost!OC)

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Cursing (2x), Age Gap (15 years), Emotional Bonding, Vulnerable Dean, Vulnerable Reader, Misogynistic Comments & Sexual Tension

Authors Note: Get ready for some traumatic reader backstory of why she got into hunting | One more part after this guys! | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | As always, thoughts are in italics and the “POV’s” switch between Dean & Reader | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

⬸ Go Back & Read Chapter 5

Dean took over driving for you, as you looked out of the passenger side window; tears still slightly in your eyes. You were almost done telling the story of how you started hunting, but yet, there was still so much to tell. But even with the small amount you had told Dean, it was an amount that people rarely got — it was basically the extent of the knowledge your parents were given.

“Can I ask you something?” Dean asked, breaking the silence.

You turned to him, and nodded. “Of course.”

“It’s about Joey,” Dean began. “And I’ll preface this now, you don’t have to answer. I just wanna understand.”

“What about Joey?” You asked.

“Is the reason your speciality is in poltergeists, is because Joey was one?” He asked, and you felt your heart almost sink, and your face slowly dropped into a frown.

“Y-yeah,” you mumbled. “Yes,” you answered again, but more prominently. “His…his spirit was attached to his dog tags but…not anymore. I um…I was able to put him to rest.”

“Without burning them?” Dean questioned, slightly intrigued. “Huh,” he said, tilting his head.

You nodded. “When his parents got his dog tags and the flag, they told me that if I ever wanted to come over and just sit in his room, I could. And for the longest time, I just…I couldn’t do it. I felt like if I did, I would break down, and I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want to just sit in his room and stare at all the pictures of him and reminisce about all the memories we had together. But, that changed when I overheard his mother talking to my mom about how things in his room wouldn’t be where they used to be. Or how randomly certain objects would be broken.” You sighed, thinking back. “I asked her if I could sit in his room for a while, and when I did, it felt…weird. Weird in the sense of, there was this energy that was there that was confused.”

“And that was Joey?” Dean asked, and you nodded in response.

“When I was sitting in his room, I…saw him. And, it’s weird because…I wasn’t scared. I would have been I mean, normal people get scared when they see ghosts but…not me…I was…happy in a way because I didn’t properly get to say goodbye to him.”

5 years ago…

As you sat on the floor thinking about all of the memories you had with Joey, and the moments that you knew would never happen with him, your heart felt crushed, and your stomach felt like it was in knots. You had lost a person you had known practically your entire life, someone that you had loved with all of your being, and you never got to say goodbye to him; and never got to tell him how much he truly meant to you. Yes, Joey knew how much you had loved him, but he (at least you thought), didn’t know the extent in which you did.

Your parents and his would often joke that the two of you would end up together; and what started out as a joke, was something that sounded like a strong and real possibility to you, it was something that you didn’t dislike by any means. He was kind, funny, and made you feel safe. He was someone that you could talk to about anything, and would always listen to you ramble on about anything. You loved him, and even now, you weren’t entirely sure if it was romantic or platonic love — you just knew that you loved him, and loved the idea of spending the rest of your life with him, no matter what that looked like.

“Oh Joey,” you mumbled, hugging your knees close to your chest, staring down at the floor.

“I miss you so much,” you heard a male voice say; the voice sounding scarily similar to Joey’s. “I wish you could see me.”

You felt like you should be scared hearing his voice, but you weren’t. Everything in your entire body was giving the exact opposite — you were glad, glad to hear the sound of his voice.

As you started to look up from the floor, you noticed brown boots with legs attached to them, that weren’t there previously. Your heart was rushing, but you felt calm at the same time. When you had looked up, the legs that were attached to those boots were Joey. He wasn’t solid, but he was solid enough that it felt like he was actually standing there. “Joey,” you said, and smiled briefly, trying to contain the tears in your eyes.

“You can see me?” He asked, his tone mixed with happiness, confusion and relief.

“Yes,” you nodded. “And I miss you too.”

Present Day…

“I was able to put him to rest by telling him that I loved him.” You stopped picking at your cuticles and looked up at Dean, who was now looking back at you. You couldn’t tell what look he was giving you, but it was far from pity; and you were extremely thankful for that, because the last thing you wanted was for him to pity you. “And I think that’s all he wanted to hear, because as soon as I said that, he said he saw a woman that wanted to take him.”

“He saw a reaper,” Dean stated.

“He did,” you replied back. “And that’s why my specialty is in poltergeists, and why I got into hunting the way I did. I wanted to be able to not only help people but…monsters that might have lost their way.”

“You’re the only person besides me that knows the full story,” you stated.

Dean didn’t know what to say, but he was intrigued to say the least, hearing how you got into hunting so young, and how you viewed monsters compared to other hunters he had met over the years. When he first started out, he didn’t view it the way you had viewed it, nor did he view the way he did now. He was raised to believe that hunting was black and white and there was no gray area. There was either good or evil. But over the years, he had come to realize that hunting wasn’t as black and white as his father had led on; that there were so many gray areas he didn’t realize were there. And besides Bobby, brother, and Garth, you were one of the first hunters to have that point of view. It was refreshing.

“Thanks for telling me,” Dean said. “I know it must of been hard to. Getting into this line of work ain’t easy, that’s for sure.”

“It sure isn’t. My parents didn’t want me to do this obviously but, they know that there is nothing else I’d rather do than this,” you said, and he could hear a slight smile on your lips. “I feel, I feel like hunting is what I was meant to do.”

Dean couldn’t help but agree, as much as he wanted to disagree. For years, he had mixed feelings about hunting. He’s loved and hated it on and off. At times, he felt that this was the only thing he could see himself doing, but at others, he saw himself doing a variety of other things than this. Mechanic, firefighter; those were his top two. Hell, even rock star at one point.

Multiple times, he had tried to have a normal life away from all this; but each and every time, he always managed to get roped back in. He knew, that as long as he was alive, this is what he was going to be doing, whether he liked it or not. He was meant for this like you were.

Arriving at the university, Dean didn’t pull into the lot as when the two of you were doing some reconnaissance on the place, you had found that the university parking lot (mainly the medical building) had a crap ton of cameras; and the last thing either one of you wanted was to have your truck or his Baby tracked by the police. You have never been on the police’s radar, but Dean on the other hand, had been on the FBI’s Most Wanted list more times than he could count at this point — an impressive yet not so impressive feat in itself.

Walking to the back of the building, you managed to find a dumpster that was conveniently below a window that the two of you could jump on and use as a way to get in. “Jack pot,” you grinned. “Lift me up?” You asked Dean.

As Dean lifted you, you couldn’t help but notice how gentle he was weirdly being; and you weren’t quite sure why. “Now’s not the time to be gentle,” you said, and you heard Dean let out a small chuckle.

“Kinky,” you saw him wink, and you rolled your eyes at his response.

Getting on top of the dumper, Dean followed you up, and you opened up the window; thankful that it was weirdly not locked, and shimmied your way in; followed by Dean, who had a little bit more of a struggle getting into the window than you did.

Compared to your graceful fall to your feet from the window, Dean on the other hand…not so much, as he practically fell almost face first onto the floor. Hearing the loud thud, your heart started to beat wildly, praying no one else was here that could have possibly heard that. You turned to Dean, who was currently getting up from the floor, wiping his jeans off as he stood up. “You okay there Spider-Man?” You joked, smirking at him.

“You okay there Spider-Man?” He mocked, mumbling.

Finding the medical instruments was the easy part, but the not so easy part was them being behind some glass. “Okay MacGuyver, you have anything to break this?” He asked. “Because the only way I see breaking this glass is with my gun.”

You gave him a confused look. “Shooting the glass is your first instinct?” He shrugged. “Interesting,” you said, tilting your heard. “I have this.” You went into your pocket and pulled out a large hunting knife, handing it handle first to Dean. “Would you like to do the honors?” Dean looked at the knife for a moment, eyeing it up and down. “Take it, it won’t bite,” you said.

Taking the knife from your hand, Dean held it in his for a moment. “This fit in your pocket?” He asked. You were intrigued that, that was what he was most interested in, not the fact that you had a large hunting knife like that in your pocket to begin with.

“Yeah. You can never be too prepared,” you said, shrugging.

“Couldn’t agree more,” he grinned, as he started making clean cuts on the glass.

He was impressed by how sharp this knife was, and how easily you had managed to fit this in your jacket pocket given the length. What impressed him even more was the fact that you didn’t even have anything covering the blade; it was simply just protected by the pocket inside your jacket.

The more time he spent with you, the more he didn’t want to spend without you. In the short amount of time he had spent with you, he had felt a sense of peace and comfort; something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Yes, he felt a sense of peace at the Bunker, and sometimes around Sam and Cas; but, with you, it was a different kind of peace and comfort, like he could be more himself around you. And he guessed that you may have felt the same way, as you told him the story about Joey, a story that you never really told people, but had told him. You even cried in front of him.

Holding you in the truck while you were crying, he didn’t feel bad for you, and he didn’t pity you; he understood the hurt that you were feeling, and understood the kind of pain that you were feeling. So many times in his life, he has had to say goodbye to the ones he loved; and it always felt like a knife to the chest or a bullet to the heart. It reminded him of the feeling he experienced when the Hell Hounds ripped him to shreds before he went to Hell.

Once Dean cut the glass, he handed you back your knife, and he started to remove the instruments one by one. The both of you exchanging looks of confusion. “Why does this feel like it’s too easy?” You asked him.

“If it’s too easy, we’re probably missing something,” Dean suggested. “It’s never this fucking easy.”

As if that was some kind of cue, Falko appeared in front of you. The look on his face wasn’t one of anger, it looked almost confused. “What are you doing?” He asked, and you and Dean exchanged looks again before looking at Falko.

“Please tell me you’re seeing that too?” You asked Dean.

“I sure am,” he said, continuing to make eye contact with the spirit.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” Falko said, this time, his tone was angrier; his hands behind his back.

Dean looked at you, and gave you the look. “What?” You whispered to him.

“Do the thing,” Dean half whispered.

“What thing?” You whispered back.

“That poltergeist sixth sense shit you did with Joey,” he said.

“What makes you think it’s gonna work on him?” You whispered through gritted teeth.

As if Falko was tired of you and Dean going back and forth, he snapped his fingers, and both you and Dean were on the other side of the room, pinned against the wall. “I don’t like when people touch my equipment,” he said calmly. He tried to touch his own equipment that you and Dean had removed from the glass, but it was useless, his fingers just went through them. “All I want to do is finish my work, and I can’t do that if people keep taking what’s mine,” his voice was starting to get angry now.

“Are you sure you can’t do the thing?” Dean asked, looking at you, the two of you still pinned to the wall.

You rolled your eyes. “No Dean, I can’t do the thing.”

“Can you try?” Dean asked, his voice almost begging, but not fully; it almost sounded a tad desperate.

You rolled your eyes again. “For the love of,” you mumbled. “Hey doctor Falko,” you said, and Falko looked at you. “I know how you can finish your work.”

He tilted his head and walked toward you; the smell of blood and rubbing alcohol hit your nose. “How my dear?” He asked. “Are you going to let me continue my work on you?” He reached out his hand toward your hair, and much like the instruments, he couldn’t touch you.

“No, but, I can do you something better,” you began. “You may not like the sound of it but, it’s the only way you’ll be able to finish your work. You just have to trust me.”

“Trust you?” He asked, and he let out a small chuckle. “But you’re a woman my dear. Why should I trust anything a woman has to say?” Wow, misogynistic much? You thought, trying your best not to roll his eyes.

“Fine don’t trust me. Then you’ll never know how you can continue on with your work,” you said. “Your life’s work, might I add.”

Falko looked between you and Dean, and it seemed as though Falko was starting to get frustrated with you. You were teasing him, and his ego wouldn’t allow someone like you to do that to him. That’s when Falko looked over at Dean. “Do you know what she is talking about?” He moved close to Dean, and it was his turn to smell the rubbing alcohol and blood in his nose now. “Huh, what’s this?” He asked, and reached out toward Dean. Part of his sleeve had fell down his arm, revealing the Mark. “Never in my years have I ever seen such a thing.” Again, Falko couldn’t touch what he wanted, and both you and Dean were starting to see him getting more and more frustrated.

“I’ll make you a deal —” Dean began.

Falko chuckled. “You’re in no position to be making deals with me, son.”

“Fine. Don’t make a deal with me. Then you’ll never know what this beauty can do,” Dean teased, grinning at the doctor.

“The both of you are infuriating,” Falko mumbled harshly. “What’s the deal? I need to finish my life’s work. I’ll do anything to be remembered.”

Jackpot, Dean thought. “I’ll tell you what this can do if you listen to her first. If you don’t listen to her, then no deal.”

“I could always just kill you both,” Falko said, as he started pacing back and forth with his hands behind his back.

“You could but, then you’ll never know the things that him and I know. We’re the only ones that can tell you how you can finish your life’s work without interruption and all of the resources you could ever dream of,” the words you spoke rolled off your tongue with ease. How many times have you done this before? Dean wondered.

Falko was starting to get more angry, items in the room you were in were starting to shake, and shake violently. “Last chance doctor,” you said. You had no fear in this situation, and Dean was impressed at how calm you were right now. The items kept shaking violently, and you were still calm as could be. “Five…four…” you started to count down, and the more you counted, the more violent the shaking got. “Two…”

“Okay!” Falko shouted, and everything stopped shaking, you and Dean fell to the ground. “Tell me,” he said, as he stood over you. Dean couldn’t help but start to tense up, seeing how close the doctor was to you. He didn’t want anything to happen to you; he would never be able to forgive himself if something did. But he knew deep down, that you could handle yourself — he needed to trust you in this moment like you’ve trusted him this far.

You got up, and the doctor towered over you. “May I?” You asked him, his facial expression not happy in the slightest. You were the last person he had wanted to trust right now, but he nodded.

You walked over to his instruments, and picked them up, placing them in a small metal bowl on the table. You made sure to keep eye contact with the doctor so he could see every single one of your movements. You bent down just enough to grab the rubbing alcohol from below the table and started to slowly pour them onto the instruments. Falko was about to open up his mouth, but you started talking before he could say anything. “I’m cleaning them. Once I clean them, I’ll be able to show you,” you reassured him. His hands quickly turned into fists. “I’m going into my pocket to grab my lighter.” You slowly went into your pocket and grabbed your lighter, Falko watching your every move. You didn’t know how this was working, but for a doctor, he was incredibly naive.

Quickly, fire appeared from it, and you placed it into the bowl, Falko’s face changed instantly. “What…” he mumbled. And he looked down; flames starting to appear at his feet and moved upwards towards his torso. “What did you do? You stupid girl!” He screamed.

You smirked. “Showing you how to continue your life’s work. I thought that’s what you wanted?” Your smirk continued as both you and Dean watched Falko disappear into flames, listening to him scream in an agony that you were strangely used to when it came to a salt and burn.

Within minutes, Falko completely disappeared, and the instruments started to blacken. “You full on Jennifer Love Hewitted him,” Dean said impressed.

⤑ Move Forward & Read The Epilogue (Not yet available)

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#spn #supernatural #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #dean x you #dean x reader #reader insert #female reader #the 15 year problem

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w2beastars · 10 months ago

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Waezi2′s thoughts on “Beast Complex” chapter 23.

I wanted to blog about this gem for a while now. "The Wolf and The Dog" is as Paru as it get.

Meet Adamo.

Adamo is a 61 year old dog, a German shepherd to be specific. And he is a notorious stalker. And he is very good at it, but we will get to that in a minute.

Adamo doesn't think that what he does is creepy. He has an excellent nose and is a born tracker since that's what his family has been bred to be. Yes, even in Beastverse, dogs are a result of selective breeding.

His stalking is not of nefarious reasons as such, he is just obsessed with following animals his nose gets the attention of and learn everything about them for no reason than the satisfaction of the hunt.

But one day, the nose of this old dog catch a very special scent.

On his way home, Adamo notice a female wolf in his train who carries a massive bouquet of flowers with strong pleasant scents. As if she is hiding something. That's something a herbivore would normally do, so this catches Adamo's attention right away. He starts sniffing and learns surprisingly much about her, like that she can't be more than twenty and that she must work in an office filled with females as he can't notice any male scents. And she uses so much makeup and soap, anything to dim her own smell.

In his own mind, Adamo sees himself "painting" the female wolf and he now stalks her to learn everything about her.

Adamo gets sloppy for a second and gets noticed by the wolf. But she apparently doesn't realize he is stalking her, so she just smiles at him and goes on about her business... or her smile is a warning... or perhaps an invitation?

Adamo realize he is much more fixated about this wolf than any other of his targets, spending a month following her around.

It even seems like the old dog starts to have a strong affection towards the female wolf who BTW is named Fasa(appropriate name for her, look it up after reading this blog). She seems like a model citizen, early to bed, early to work and always nice to the elderly.

But in a Paru manga, that's often a red flag.

Adamu gets a closer look at her apartment...

... Damn.

Sure, there are plenty of predators in the Beastverse, but Fasa is an organized one, having chopped up her victim, keeping the different parts in bags in her fridge and eating brain and eyeballs, not wasting anything.

Adamo is shocked by what the female he has a creepy crush on has done and, without thinking, yells something he have not said in a long time:

Yep, Adamo is a retired police detective. No wonder he is such an effective stalker. And seeing someone committing a predator crime wakes up the old cop.

Fasa is however not intimidated by the old fart, she knew she was being watched, she just got sloppy and forgot to close her curtains. She smiles at Adamo when he says he used to be a police officer, recognizing a fellow canine who is a slave to their instincts. Fasa is a slave to her hunting instincts while Adamo is very much a dog, having only joined the police because he is good at tracking and at following orders. And now that he is retired, he keeps tracking other animals because he doesn't know what else to do.

Fasa then embrace Adamo, making the dog terrified as he has no idea if he is gonna end up in the wolf's fridge as well or if she is hugging him since they are "the same".

But then the actual cops comes.

Fasa is surprisingly calm about being arrested, not resisting at all. Feeling guilt about his unhealthy hobby, possibly because he was just reminded that he used to be a cop who arrested creeps like himself, Adamo is about to confess to the police officers that he is a stalker, but Fasa interrupts him.

Fasa claims that Adamo is in her apartment because she had kidnapped him and was about to eat him as well, then whispers to him that they are not similar at all.

... Makes you wonder if that is suppose to be assuring as his stalking is nowhere near as bad a crime as what she has done... or if it is degrading as he as a dog is a pale shadow of what a wolf is.

Either way, she smiles as she tells him to take care of himself, and the manga then ends with a perfect panel:

Adamo stands between the strong-smelling flowers Fasa used to hide the scent of the blood of her victim/victims, like she is covering up for his crime of stalking. The symbolism is chef-kiss worthy!

This is most likely in the top five of the best chapter of Beast Complex. Its a bittersweet tale and it is kinda funny how Fasa manage to appear more noble than Adamo... or at least have more dignity.

That's all for now. I'm Waezi2, and thanks for wasting time with me.

#beast complex #beastars #paru itagaki #itagaki paru #paru #Adamo the German Shepherd #Adamo #Adamo the Dog #Fasa #Fasa the wolf

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mykoreanlove · 10 months ago

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⛽

“Snugglepuss, can I lay on your stomach?”

Minho was cuddled next to you on the couch, safe and sound under the heavy blanket.

“Snugglepuss?”, you asked confused. “The hell is that?”

Minho’s eyes lit up, proud to explain the new nickname he got for you.

“Babe, that’s self-explanatory. Snuggle because we love to cuddle and be close and puss because… you know.”, he smirked naughtily.

“Oh my god!”, you erupted in laughter. “Don’t ever call me that again!”

“What? Why not?!”, he asked offended.

“I don’t know Min, it just sounds wrong.”

“You’ll get used to it, Snugglepuss. So, can I lay on your stomach?”

He looked at you with big, expectant eyes – wanting to claim his favorite body part of yours.

“No, sorry.”

You turned around and faced the TV again, focusing on the drama you were watching.

Minho furrowed his brows, feeling rejected and not understanding why.

“Why though? Let me lay on your stomach, y/n. Please?”

You weren’t one to deny him any requests, after all you were head over heels in love with him. His character, ever so ambivalent, made you fall for him instantly. His dark, ominous side he showed to the world paired with his kind, affectionate side reserved for his special ones lured you in instantly.

“I just don’t feel like it, Min.”

Each word coming out of your pretty mouth confused him even more. He had laid his head on you multiple times – what had changed?

“Don’t you like it anymore, y/n?”

The hurt in his voice pained you, but you couldn’t explain to him what was going on. Minho had spent half of the day in the kitchen, preparing a feast for the both of you. His cooking resembled his fucking – mouth-watering, tasty and exquisite. The two of you had been eating for five, totally immersed in the savory flavors and textures.

“I do. Just not now.”

You shuffled under the blanket, folding your hands over your stomach. Minho dropped the topic, for now. He kept observing you, taking in every detail like a cat.

Your hands on your stomach, like a protective barrier.

The rumbling of your stomach, silent yet detectable.

The unwell look on your face, stealing the peaceful expression he usually saw.

It didn’t take him long to figure out the real reason, much to your discomfort.

“Y/N”, he said sternly.

You turned around and faced him, serious eyes piercing through you.

“You don’t want my head on your tummy because we just ate, is that it?”

Your face turned white.

“Did you not tolerate the food?”

“Min, no. Your food was exceptional, really. It’s just..”

“Tell me. Now.”

You sighed defeated.

“My organs are just working and processing, I guess. I don’t want your head near my stomach as long as it’s not safe.”, you explained embarrassed.

Your boyfriend erupted in laughter, filling the whole room with his maniac laugh.

“You’re afraid of farting in front of me. I can’t believe it.”

You clasped your hands in front of your face, too embarrassed to face him.

“Y/N”, Minho grabbed your hands and freed your face jokingly.

“You know I think it’s cute.”

“What is?”

“You being afraid of farting, babe.”

“Oh my god, can you stop saying that. Min, please.”, you whined.

“Farting baby. Farts. Farty fart. My farting baby. Fart for me?”

“Okay, okay, okay!”, you hastily covered his mouth while he was laughing his ass off.

Minho grabbed your hands again and kissed your knuckles tenderly, looking into your ashamed eyes.

“I don’t want you to be ashamed because of normal bodily functions, y/n. You fart. You poop. That’s how digestion works, baby. I’d be more worried if you didn’t do any of those things.”

You flinched at his words, not really knowing why.

Who had told you to be ashamed of those things?

“And also”, he continued kissing your hands. “You have to overcome this habit because I want us to last. To last forever, actually.”

Your eyes widened in surprise; this was the first time you heard him verbalizing that.

“Were you doing it secretly all this time?”

Minho chuckled as he watched your reddened cheeks, confirming his theory.

“Let me guess, all those stomach aches were also because of this?”

You looked down, feeling ashamed of yourself.

“Oh, sweet baby”, Minho’s thumb glided over your jaw, making you look up at him.

“I don’t want you to hide parts of yourself. Not for me. I want you to be yourself. Always.”

Your hand reached for his, squeezing lightly.

You weren’t the best at verbalizing your emotions, but he always understood you by your body, deciphering you like a book.

“I love you, Min.”

His features softened even more, looking at you fondly.

“Prove it.”, he commanded.

“Ugh, fine”, you sighed annoyed and repositioned yourself on the couch, pointing to your stomach.

“Lay on Snugglepuss’ tummy, then.”

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pedrospatch · 2 years ago

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weakness l part ii

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: Back in the Boston QZ, you confront Joel about what happened at Bill and Frank’s place.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s) two idiots who have feelings for each other, one idiot is in denial, Joel is kind of an asshole, confrontation, confessions. little bit of backstory on how they met, very brief mention of attempted SA. SMUT. reader loses her virginity, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (practice safe sex, pls and thank you), post sex cuddles (ish) and more feelings.

word count: 6k

You splash several handfuls of warm water onto your face and scrub, making sure to be as thorough as possible as you rinse off all the suds from the cleansing soap that you’d used to wash the makeup off your face. You had also changed out of the dress that Frank had you wear for his special lunch earlier that afternoon and back into a much more appropriate outfit for your pending return to the Boston QZ with Joel—as always, Frank had kindly encouraged you to take a peek through a number of cardboard boxes full of women’s clothing in your size that he’d collected from the boutique and insisted that you go on and help yourself to whatever your heart desired out of them.

After plucking a pair of dark wash blue jeans from one box, a long sleeved olive green blouse from another box, and a matching, white lace underwear set from a third box, you’d gone into the bathroom and started making the transition back to your usual appearance, minus the dirt and the grime for the time being.

There’s a part of you that’s relieved to see yourself looking a lot more—well, looking a lot more like yourself. On the other hand, there was another part of you that almost grieved the short lived feeling of what it had been like to look like a normal woman. Perhaps that’s the reason why, instead of putting your hair back into its usual braid, you decide to leave it down, loose around your shoulders.

“I told you it suited you,” Frank states with a little grin. Affectionately, he runs his fingers through it one more time before pulling you into his arms for a warm hug. “Thank you for coming over for lunch..”

After you and Joel had said your thank you and goodbyes to Bill and Frank, you started the journey back home. Not that the QZ was really a place that you wanted to consider home, but it was where you had spent the better part of the last six years. The truth was, you couldn’t stand living in the Boston QZ, but it was probably the closest thing to a home you’d ever have again.

And it only felt like that because of Joel.

He’d crossed your path when you first arrived in Boston after Providence had been overrun with infected. Like most of the other survivors, you had found yourself in Boston, as it was the closest operating QZ and only about fifty miles away. It was a rougher crowd in Boston than in Providence and you’d found that out the hard way on your third night there when you’d been walking back to your quarters after that day’s work assignment had run late into the evening.

You had been trying to get to where you needed to be before it went past the set curfew hour and you remembered being so preoccupied with trying to avoid a disciplinary lockup that you hadn’t noticed the two goons who had been following you from the work site.

It happened in the blink of an eye—one minute you were walking and the next you’d been shoved into some empty alleyway. They roughed you up, and although you had tried to fight back, you ended up being overpowered and found yourself pinned down to the ground on your back by one of the assailants; meanwhile, his partner in crime eagerly unbuckled his belt and reached for the button of your jeans. Before it could go any further than that, the sound of a much older man’s deep voice threatening the promise of two broken jaws sent them running into the darkness as fast as their trembling legs could carry them.

That was the night you’d met Joel Miller.

The one man in the zone that nobody in their right mind would ever dare fuck around with.

He’d scolded you for being stupid enough to walk the streets alone so close to curfew hour and then took you back to his apartment where he’d cleaned up all of the cuts and scrapes on your face with a torn, cotton blue handkerchief and some cheap whiskey. The two of you hadn’t been apart from each other since that night for longer than a day, if that.

So, the bottom line was that Boston wasn’t home. It never was home, and probably never would be.

It was Joel. He was home.

It didn’t matter where you laid your head to sleep at night. Whether it was on a clean pillow in Lincoln or on that old, shoddy mattress that you’d noticed was starting to sprout bits off fluff through open tears in Boston—hell, you could lay your head down in the dirt at night and as long as Joel was there by your side, you wouldn’t give a single shit about it.

Gripping the straps of your hundred liter pack, you glance up at Joel, your eyes meeting his own pack that he carried on his back. For a majority of the walk back, he’d stayed at least a few steps ahead in front of you. He hadn’t really said much of anything to you since your shared kiss in the middle of Bill and Frank’s living room.

Somehow, even several hours later, the feeling of his lips on yours still linger and you had to wonder, did Joel feel the same? Was it on his mind too? Or was he trying to forget that it ever even happened now that you two were heading back into the cold, hard reality of living in the QZ?

You’d be lying to yourself if you said that it wouldn’t devastate you if that were actually the case.

The two of you make it back just after nightfall. You and Joel sneak past the authorities and despite the fact that it was well after FEDRA curfew hour and the zone is crawling with guards on night patrol, you manage to make it all the way back to your shared apartment without being caught. Being thrown in lockup would have put quite the fucking damper on what had otherwise been one of the most decent days that you’d had in a while.

Joel’s silence towards you holds on pretty strong as he shoves his way through the front door, dropping his heavy pack with a loud thud on the floor. He stalks over to the couch and drops down onto it; his legs and feet are aching from the long, nearly five hour trek back to the QZ. Letting out a heavy sigh, Joel leans his head back and then closes his eyes, his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath of recovery he takes.

Taking off your own pack from your shoulders, you set it down beside his, and then walk over towards the couch too. However, instead of joining him as you usually did, you stand in front of it—in front of him, and although his eyes are still closed, you know damn well he can sense you standing there.

And yet, he refuses to acknowledge you.

Shuffling your weight from one foot to the other, you wrack your brain in search of something, anything to say—though you know he’s exhausted, it’s still incredibly obvious that there’s a tension that lingers over the both of you. In reality, it had followed you and Joel the entire way back from Lincoln, but at least out in the open, it hadn’t seemed that bad. Now that you were back in the apartment and confined to such close quarters together, it could be sliced with a fucking machete.

Finally, you speak, saying his name softly. “Joel?”

“Hmm?” comes his reply, his head still resting back on the couch.

“We should—um, we should probably talk.”

His eyes snap open, but he fixes them on the crumbling ceiling of the apartment. “Talk ‘bout what?”

“About the fucking weather outside,” you answer, flatly.

Joel lifts his head from the couch, raising an eyebrow at you. “Oh, is someone feelin’ like being a smartass tonight?”

You sigh irritably. You should have known better than to think Joel would actually make this easy for you. “Listen, about what happened back at Bill and Frank’s house earlier today—”

He’s quick, too quick, to cut you off. “It was nothin’.”

You feel your heart drop down deep into the pits of your stomach. “It was nothing?” you repeat after him, wondering if you’d looked just as stunned as you had sounded. “Really, Joel? It was nothing?”

Joel gives you a subtle, but curt nod. “We both know it was nothin’ at all. Best we just forget about it. Pretend like it never happened.” He stands up from the couch and kicks off his worn, faded leather boots. “S’real late. We should probably get to bed.” He brushes past you and starts towards the bedroom.

You spin around on your heel, and while your words are gentle, they hit him in the back like a ton of fucking bricks. “It wasn’t nothing to me, Joel.”

He halts abruptly in his tracks and freezes, his wide shoulders squaring.

“And you know what, I don’t think it was nothing to you either.”

Slowly, Joel pivots on his heel and turns around to face you. “You listen here. I ain’t exactly too sure where you went off and found the fuckin’ balls to even think you can speak for me, but I’m gonna need you to go put ‘em the fuck back right now or else we’re gonna have a problem, darlin’. That understood?”

A chill runs up the length of your spine. Though he keeps his voice calm, there’s slight, dangerous edge to his tone that almost makes you back down—somehow, you will yourself to stand your ground. “You said it to me yourself, Joel.” You lift your chin slightly. “Earlier in Lincoln. You said you don’t want a life without me. Remember that?”

Joel’s jaw clenches.

He couldn’t deny the exact words that had come out of his own goddamn mouth, now could he?

You take a careful step towards him. “Am I your weakness, Joel?”

Instantly, he drops his eyes away from yours, his voice lowering as he asks you, “Now where the hell would you get an idea like that?”

“Frank told me—” You stop as he lets out a scoff, shaking his head. “He did, Joel. He said that I’m your weakness.”

“Did he now?” Joel’s eyes are now on the floor.

He can’t even look at you.

“Yeah. He did.” You take another step forward, and then another. And even when you stand right in front of him, your body just mere inches away from his, he forces himself to keep from meeting your gaze. “Joel?”

He stiffly shakes his head. “Don’t,” he utters through tight lips.

You try again. “Joel?” Knowing he would be too stubborn to give in, you bend slightly at your knees, crouching down in front of him just a few inches or so, low enough to place yourself into his view. You then slide your index finger underneath his chin and lift it, forcing him to look at you as you draw yourself back up to your normal height. Your expression softens once you see the battle he’s fighting behind those tortured dark brown eyes of his. “Just tell me the truth, Joel. Please,” you beg him, softly. “Am I your weakness?”

Joel reaches up with his hand, his fingers wrapping around your wrist. He tears your hand away from his face and holds it down at your side, but doesn’t let it go. “Why the fuck are you askin’ me that? Huh?”

“Because,” you reply, the gentle tone of your voice causing his grip around your wrist to tighten. “You sure as hell are mine.”

Your eyes glaze over his parted lips, and before you can even think about making another move, Joel releases your wrist and both of his hands fly to either side of your face as he brings his mouth down to meet yours. Just like back in Lincoln, you thought he would attack you, devastate and ruin your lips with his—though he kisses you with fervency, you can feel that he’s being careful, almost as if he were afraid he would break you into pieces if he became too rough with you. You almost want to speak, let him know that there was no need for him to hold back, but you’re too preoccupied, far too busy getting yourself lost in the taste of him.

Desperate to be even closer to him, your arms find their way around his neck and you close the remaining gap of space between the two of you by pressing your body flush against his.

This causes Joel to suddenly break away from you, your name falling from his lips in the most delicious way you’d never heard before.

“What?” you question him, breathlessly.

When he says nothing back to you, you take a step backwards, away from him, and lift your hands to the buttons of your blouse. Slowly, almost seductively, you undo the first top button and then move on to undo the second one. When the third one comes undone, you use your index finger to move the material of your blouse aside, revealing your bra underneath—the white lace sits delicately on the soft curve of your breast, igniting a blazing fire deep in Joel’s lower belly.

Though he longs to let you finish so he can see more of you, Joel catches both of your hands in one of his halfway down, stopping you from going further. “Don’t,” he warns you, his voice strained, hoarse. “Don’t go doin’ somethin’ you’ll regret, darlin’.”

You tilt your head slightly, giving him the most innocent, angelic look he’d ever seen in his entire fucking life. “You think I’ll regret this?”

Joel can only nod helplessly at you as you tug your hands out of his and turn your attention to his shirt instead. His breath audibly catches in his throat as your fingers start working on the buttons of his brown plaid flannel. Heart hammering painfully in his chest, he looks down at you as your hands move on from one button to the next. He’s become borderline intoxicated by the sweet, sweet scent of whatever shampoo you’d used back in Lincoln to wash your hair, and it’s causing him to lose his grasp on what very little common sense he has left.

Joel feels the heat flood to his face when you push his shirt off of his shoulders and take a long moment to admire his form. Sure, his physique may not have been what it used to be now that he was in his fifties in comparison to his younger days, but he’s still in decent shape. His upper body isn’t ridiculously built or muscular, but thanks to hours of physical labor in the QZ, he still had this broadness to him—Joel’s back, his shoulders, and his arms, fucking hell, those arms of his that you could just melt right into, arms that you would feel so safe in, no matter what.

Your eyes drink him in, and you find yourself memorizing every last distinguishing mark on his upper body. You make a mental note of every single freckle you see, of each and every one of the battle scars that he possesses and commit them to memory. You were certain that most of Joel’s scars had come from this life, but you had to wonder if any of them had come from his past life. His first life.

“I ain’t a pretty sight,” he murmurs, shaking his head slightly.

“Says who?”

“Says me,” Joel replies without missing a beat. He inhales sharply as you reach out and place the palm of your hand on his chest.

You can feel his heart slamming against his chest wall right against your hand. “Your heart is beating so fast,” you whisper. You step towards him and gingerly press your lips against his neck, causing him to draw another sharp breath of air.

Unable to fight his desire to touch you any longer, Joel reaches out to finish undoing the rest of the buttons on your blouse. He discards it on the floor along with his own shirt in one quick, swift movement.

“Fuck,” he breathes out as soon as his hands met your bare skin.

The contrast of his roughness and your softness just about drove him wild. He leans down, claiming your mouth with his once again, and although he tries to keep himself from being too rough with you, Joel can’t help how hungry his kisses are—he almost feels as if he’s a starving man who hadn’t had single crumb to eat in weeks, and you’re a three course meal that had miraculously fallen into his hands. He wants to devour you, and yet, Joel uses every ounce of strength he has in him to show at least a little bit of restraint. He knows you aren’t delicate, but he fears that if he isn’t careful, you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands much like a doll made of porcelain.

His teeth lightly nip at your bottom lip, his silent demand for more and you give it to him. He slides his hands up and down your sides, and while his touch is doing inexplicable things to your body that feel so fucking foreign, it also feels so fucking good. And you want more.

So, so much more.

Joel groans into your mouth as you rake your fingernails down the front of his bare chest. “Baby.”

Your heart skips an eager beat.

Never in this lifetime did you think Joel Miller would call you that. But then again, never in this lifetime did you think you two would ever be in this position. Half naked, wrapped up in each other’s embrace.

“Baby.” He says it again, pulling away slightly.

“What’s the matter?”

“If we don’t stop right now—” Joel trails off mid-sentence, letting his two hands continue to roam and explore your upper body. He finds it in himself, finally, to push the delicate straps of white lace down your arms; you decide to lend him a hand and reach around your back to unhook the lingerie, adding it to the growing pile of clothes on the stained linoleum floor. Pulling you flush against his chest, Joel groans again and then tears his lips from yours, moving them down to the sensitive flesh of your neck.

As he does so, you start to guide him backwards towards the bedroom.

“Careful,” Joel mumbles against your skin, causing you to exhale a tiny, breathless little laugh.

Somehow, even with his arms wrapped around you and his lips fused to your neck, the both of you manage to get around the wide, single wall that divides the bedroom from the rest of the apartment. As Joel feels the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress—the very same mattress that you two had been sharing for the last few years—he lets out an odd noise, something in between a groan and a sharp exhale of breath. He snakes an arm around your waist and turns you so that he’s able to carefully lay you back onto the mattress. He follows in suit and crawls on top of you, his body hovering over yours.

“It ain’t too late, you know.” Joel pauses and brings a hand to your face. He brushes a lock of your hair out of your eyes and tucks it behind your ear, his finger grazing your cheek as he does so. “It ain’t too late to stop.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Do you want to stop?”

“Yes.”

Your heart sinks. “You want to stop?”

“No.”

A puzzled expression crosses your features. “But you just said—”

“Jesus Christ, I don’t even fuckin’ know.” He closes his eyes, furiously shaking his head.

“Joel. Look at me.”

With a heavy, frustrated sigh, Joel obliges. His pools of intense, dark brown swim with an array of different emotions, from lust and desire to concern and fear. “Things won’t be the same,” he tells you, shaking his head again. “We cross this line and there’s no goin’ back for us, do you understand that, darlin’?”

You chew nervously on your lower lip. Your hand is at the back of his head, your fingers anxiously toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. Of course you knew that there was no going back—but hell, you didn’t want to go back, not if it was to a time where you went about your days thinking that you meant nothing to Joel Miller. Not to a time where you didn’t know what it was like to be kissed by him, or to be touched by him.

Finally, you will yourself to reply to him.

“Is it shitty of me to say that I don’t care that we’re crossing a line we can’t come back from?” you ask, quietly. “It doesn’t fucking matter to me, Joel. I want this and I can tell that you do too.” The same hand that had been in his hair moves to the side of his face. “What are you so afraid of?”

“Losin’ you.”

You honestly hadn’t thought that he would actually give you a reply, at least not one that contained the truth, so when he does, it takes you completely by surprise.

“You won’t lose me,” you assure him, though you know better than to make a promise you weren’t absolutely certain you could keep in a world like this one. Joel had lost people, you had lost people, but you would do everything and anything that you could possibly do to keep from losing each other. “It’s like I told you in Lincoln, okay? We are in this together. I’ll never leave your side, Joel. Never.”

“But—”

“Why don’t you believe me?”

Joel leans down, letting his forehead rest against yours. “I want to. I want to believe you, I swear it. More than anythin’ in this world, I want to believe you. But my mind is sayin’ there’s just no fuckin’ way.”

You delicately touch your fingers to his chest, feeling his heartbeat again. “What about this, what does this say? This thing in here that I can feel racing against my fingertips as we speak?”

“It’s tellin’ me to make you mine.”

Propping yourself up on your elbow, you tilt your face up towards his for another kiss. This kiss is different from any of the others you two had shared that day.

No, this kiss was softer, it was tender—sweet like honey.

Loving, even.

“Then do it,” you encourage against his lips. “Make me yours.”

“Only if that’s what you want.”

“I do. More than anything, Joel.”

With your reassurance, he finally releases any hesitations he had, and Joel gives you a subtle nod of his head, one you almost didn’t catch.

He gingerly pushes you back onto the mattress and kisses you lightly on the lips one more time before he begins to trail his way down your neck. He continues to move down your chest and stomach, and as his nose skims against your skin with each kiss, Joel can still detect a hint of soap from your shower earlier that afternoon. As soon as he reaches your waist, his hands reach for the button and zipper of your jeans, undoing them both with ease. He lifts himself up on his knees, silently beckoning for you to lift up your hips so he can slide your jeans down your legs. You’d never been more grateful that you’d chosen a pair of pretty lace underwear instead of the usual cotton shit that you wore.

Joel hooks his index finger underneath the elastic waistband, slowly pulling them down your legs as well before tossing them aside. He lets his eyes lock themselves on every part of you, his burning desire for you only fueled by everything that he sees.

Much to your own surprise, you aren’t all too shy. There you are, lying before him completely bare—Joel can see everything, but you cannot possibly care less about any freckles, any stretch marks, any scars, or any other so-called imperfections on your body.

He’d let you see him—now you were letting him see you.

Joel would be lying if he said he’d never thought about this—thought about you like this. He had often tried his best to keep those thoughts at bay considering how much older he was than yourself, but fuck, he could never deny the fact that you were the prettiest damn thing he’d laid his eyes on since the world had gone to shit. Joel often imagined that every inch of you was nothing short of perfection and hell, he’d been right. He brings himself back down over you and lets his mouth make its way back down your body.

“Joel.”

The sound of your voice as you say his name is unrecognizable, to both you and to him.

It’s low, husky, and like sweet music to his ears.

“What is it, baby?” He asks you as he stops right in between your legs. He glances up at you for a brief moment. His gaze meets yours, as if looking for permission to proceed. The instant he receives your nod of approval, Joel starts to plant another trail of burning kisses along the inside of your thighs, going back and forth from one to the other.

His beard scratches the delicate skin there as he carries on, moving slower and slower the further he goes up your legs in an effort to get your anticipation built up. You only find this agonizing and you’re just about ready to lose your goddamn mind. The moment you open up your mouth to tell him to cut it out with all of the teasing, Joel dips his head, his mouth finally moving to the apex of your thighs.

You gasp out his name, your back involuntarily arching off the bed.

Joel moans into you—something about how he just knew you would taste so fucking sweet—and lets his tongue swirl around your arousal, eliciting the most heavenly noises from you. He switches off between using long, firm strokes of his tongue over your clit and taking you into his mouth, his chosen technique causing your hips to buck upwards, asking for more. He hums against your cunt and lifts his arm, draping it across your hips to hold you down in place. The sounds escaping you, every curse word, every whimper, every little cry of pleasure, bounce off of the paper thin walls of the apartment.

Even though you’re certain your neighbors are getting an earful, the truth was that you couldn’t give two shits as to who heard you or not. Hell, there was a woman a few doors down the hallway who often threw suggestive glances at Joel when she saw him and you can only pray to the heavens above that she can hear what he’s doing to you.

You feel the beginning of an orgasm coiling up inside of you in your lower belly. It’s tightly wound, mere moments away from snapping and springing forward. With no sheets on the mattress for you to grasp, you clenched at air, trying your best to fight it in a futile attempt to draw the pleasure out for as long as you can. You never want this to end. Joel didn’t get the memo and he keeps on at it, and before long, his lips and tongue send you tumbling over the edge.

As you cry out his name over and over again, his mouth continues to keep at it slowly, helping you ride out the high of your orgasm. Once the sensation of the intense climax begins to subside, you drop your head back down onto the mattress and focus on trying to catch your breath.

Joel looks up at you and forces himself to bite back his groan.

It’s dim in the room, but the moonlight that filters in through the window illuminates what had to be the most stunning sight he’d ever fucking seen. Your hair wild, skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, your mouth plump, swollen from his kisses.

Joel pulls himself back up to you. His mouth meets yours, letting you get a taste of yourself. He then lets his thumb graze over your bottom lip, asking you, “You alright?”

“Just a bit breathless is all.” Suddenly, it dawns at you—what comes next. Up until this moment you had been fine, and now, your nerves feel like they had been lit on fucking fire. You swallow harshly, knowing you had to tell him. “Joel?”

Sensing the sudden shift, he frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“Joel, I’ve never—the thing is, I’ve never—”

You stop, clamping your mouth shut, unable to say it out loud.

It takes him a second or two, but he finally understands.

You’ve never been with a man before.

Not like that. Not like this.

“As much as I want you, we don’t have to go any further than this,” Joel assures you, his nose skimming lightly against your cheek. “You tell me to stop and I’ll stop, darlin’. No questions asked.”

And you believe him.

You know he would only take what you were willing to give him.

At this point, you were willing to give him everything.

Your hand reaches down between your bodies, brushing against the waistband of his jeans. “I don’t want to stop,” you tell him. “I really don’t.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Are you—?”

“Damn it, Joel! I said what I fucking said, now can you please get rid of these? Or am I going to have to do it for you?”

Joel drops his face into the crook of your neck for a second, letting out something mixed between a scoff and a chuckle before he finally obliges to your request.

He stands up from the mattress just long enough to unbuckle his old, worn out leather belt—he then unbuttons his jeans and pushes them off before climbing back over you.

You place a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer towards you.

As you do, you feel his hard, thick cock brush against the inside of your thigh.

“Joel,” you gasp out his name, wetness pooling between your legs all over again.

“Askin’ you one last time, sweetheart.” Joel’s mouth ghosts over yours. “You sure ‘bout this?”

“Yes. I’m sure.” You hope you don’t sound as desperate as you’re beginning to feel. “Please, Joel. I want you.”

You couldn’t have been anymore sure that this was what you wanted.

Still, that didn’t exactly stop the wave of apprehension from washing over you as you felt him settle himself between your thighs and against your entrance. Joel must have sensed your nervousness, because he pauses, pressing his lips against your forehead. He lets them linger for a moment, as if silently reassuring you that he would take it easy. He pushes himself inside of you, slowing down the further he goes. It hurts, at first. It’s a sharp feeling of discomfort unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Painful. You can’t help the small cry that escapes you, causing Joel to abruptly stop his movement.

“Relax, baby,” Joel murmurs, taking your hand in his. He laces his fingers together with yours and gives it a gentle squeeze. He remains still as he waits, willing his body to listen to yours before picking up where he left off.

It takes you a minute to adjust to him, and while the discomfort doesn’t completely go away, a new sensation joins in, one of searing heat and the sudden urge to feel more of him.

Joel’s opposite hand is curled into a fist at the crown of your head, and he finds himself having to silently remind himself to get a grip. As much as he wants to take you the way his body is telling him to take you, he refuses to do anything that can potentially hurt you. Though he’d given you his hand for the sake of comforting you, he found it ended up being more for his benefit than for yours. He holds it tightly as he gives another gentle, experimental thrust.

“Joel, move. Please. I need you to move.”

“Baby—”

“Please,” you all but plead him. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and push your hips forward, wanting to feel every inch of him that you could.

“Fuck!” Joel curses out in a moan. As careful as he wants to be with you, he knows that if you keep it up, that would all go out the fucking window.

Any discomfort or pain that you might have felt initially vanishes completely, having been replaced with nothing but explosive waves of ecstasy that come with each and every single one of Joel’s thrusts.

There isn’t one single part of you that isn’t lost in just the most heavenly haze as he picks up his pace and delivers swift, smooth strokes. Just when you think it cannot possibly get any better, Joel dips his head and begins whispering into the hollow of your neck. “You feel so good, baby. Fuck, I’ve been dreamin’ of this for years now, y’know that?”

“Joel,” you whimper his name.

“You’re mine, you understand me? You’re all fuckin’ mine,” Joel whispers breathlessly. He continues to pick up the pace as he demands, “Tell me you’re mine, sweet girl. Need to hear you say it—”

Biting your lip, you look up into his eyes and nod your head, managing to find your voice in between your moans. “I’m yours—all fucking yours, Joel.”

You’re close and so is he, you can feel it.

“Fuck!” Joel curses out as his entire body begins to shudder. He gives you one last, deep thrust that brings you both to come at the exact same moment.

Joel collapses beside you onto his back, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath and recollect himself.

You’re in a similar state, though perhaps a little more shaken.

“C’mere.” Joel pulls you close to him, tucking you into his side. “You’re tremblin’ a little. You alright?”

“I’m alright.” You look up at him and raise an eyebrow. “Are you?”

He remains silent, as if thinking over his answer.

Your throat goes dry—he didn’t regret it, did he?

“Joel—”

“Earlier, you asked me if you were my weakness.”

You nod. “Yeah…”

Joel pulls you so that you’re laying across his chest. He holds you close, squeezing you as if he’s afraid someone’s going to come along and snatch you out of his grasp. “Pretty sure you know by now that you are,” he says, his fingers subconsciously running themselves through your hair. “You’re my weakness, my Achilles’ heel, whatever the fuck you wanna call it—all I know is that if somethin’ ever happens to you, I don’t know what the fuck I’ll do.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me, Joel.”

“What if I can’t keep you safe?”

You frown. “Joel, I’ve been by your side for what, six years now? And you’ve always kept me safe. Hell, you saved my ass on the night we met. If it hadn’t been for you showing up and scaring those guys away—” You stop, shoving the thought of what could have possibly happened to you that night out of your mind. “I told you. I’m the safest when I’m with you. I know I am.”

“But—”

You silence him with a kiss. “Joel, stop looking for a reason to push me away.” You toss him a small, exhausted smile. “Besides, I think it’s a little late for that now anyway, don’t you think?”

You lay your head back down onto Joel’s chest and he continues to run his hand through your hair, over and over again. He surely must have known that he’s lulling you into a deep sleep.

“Joel?” you say his name, drowsily.

“What is it, baby?”

“You’re not going to lose me,” you mumble into his chest. “Ever.”

Joel holds you closer, trying with every fiber of his being to set aside his fears as you drift off to sleep in his arms.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x y/n #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader

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weirdsht · 7 months ago

Note

What if Cale Henituse had someone special during his time as Kim Rok Soo? Although they were never officially a couple, it was clear to everyone that their relationship went beyond mere friendship. Slowly but surely, KRS grew more comfortable and at ease around this person until they were killed. Brutally (lmaaooo I'm sorryy HAHAHWHAHW). Later, they reunite in his life as Cale Henituse, but reader has changed significantly because, like KRS, they too have been transmigrated. Their life has been deeply affected and troubled by their own close relatives, unlike Cale, who, despite some hesitation from his family, at least had the comfort of a family that cares about his safety and well-being overall. (Dyk Roxanna from TWTPTFLOB? Basically her family. If you don't know, basically her family is torturous to have. I think normal ppl would die if they suddenly transmigrated as a part of Roxanna's family because they're the definition of insanity)

I'm sorry if this is too much, feel free to scroll past 🤧💌

Our Fragile Promise in Magnolia - Cale/Reader

notes: Yes the title is a bunch of Laufey song titles. Shameless plugin but my fics Close and Can I Really have similar concepts to this one

tags: female reader, novel spoilers (war), angst? not sure, very loud unspoken feelings

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

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_____ stares at a male figure’s back. She’s used to looking at it. At finding comfort in it. How can she not? His back always seems so big. So strong. As if it’s capable of shielding her from everything.

However, this time that back looks smaller than how she remembers it.

And _____ is the reason for that.

“_____ don’t you dare close your eyes, don’t you dare fall asleep on me”

“Wake up! Just why did I get cursed with such an airhead child…”

The woman in front of the girl daydreaming speaks exasperatedly, bringing her back to reality.

It reminds _____ of who she currently is. How she’s not on earth fighting monsters anymore. How she has been granted another life.

Another life, another suffering.

“Follow me, the meeting is starting.”

The woman, _____’s mother, looked behind her to see if her daughter was still following.

“If you utter one word that causes our family disgrace you know what will happen to you. Won’t you, my dear?”

_____, who’s currently 20 years old in this life, is both used to and tired of the sickeningly sweet smile on her mother’s face.

“Yes, mother.”

She internally laughs but says nothing outwardly. Just how scared is her mother from the announcement of war that she dared talk to her like that?

It reminded her of when she was a child.

A time before she rose to power within that useless family of hers.

“Your name is _____?”

“Why? Do you have any problem with it?”

“No, it suits you.”

The woman was taken aback by the nonchalant compliment. The man in front of her has said it as if it didn’t mean much. No, for him it probably really didn’t mean anything.

But it meant the world to _____.

It was the first time she had received a compliment. And for something as insignificant as the name she gave herself.

‘Thanks, I gave it to myself since no one was willing to name me’

Were the words she held back from saying, not wanting to ruin the moment.

_____ never would have thought that she would become best friends with that very same man.

Clang!

The young woman watched as the silver plaque hit the table. The noise it made snapped the young woman out of her daydream.

She looked at the silver plaque and saw the crest of the royal family on it.

It’s easy to understand what it means.

Cale Henituse, the one famous as the young master silver shield, is now officially the Roan Kingdom’s Northeast Commander.

Not that _____ had any issues with it. She has heard about the famous young master. He may be young but he has the qualifications. Plus who is she to question the crown’s decisions?

If the crown has decided that Cale as commander is what the kingdom needs to defend itself against the Indomitable Alliance then so must be it.

However, not once has _____ looked at the famous redhead. Hence why when he started speaking again the young noble took it as a chance to take a good look.

The first thing that caught her attention was his long red hair. It was the same shade as blood. As if he was a vampire that drank so much blood it turned his hair into one.

But it wasn’t a gruesome sight. Quite the opposite actually. _____ finds his hair to be very pretty. It reminds her of a beautiful flame that’s forever ignited. Always strong and never extinguishing despite the strong winds that come its way.

“Kim Rok Soo..?”

As soon as _____ saw the commander’s eyes her world stopped. She knows those eyes very well. Has stared at them countless times for her to not know.

It couldn’t be.

Maybe they just have the same eye colour.

Kim Rok Soo’s reddish brown eyes might be rare back in her old world but nothing is impossible in this new one.

So it can’t be.

However, she can’t deny it.

She can’t deny that the way he lands his gaze is the same as him. The sorrow that is buried deep within those copper-like eyes is the same.

The way he stared at her knowingly was the same.

But she still tries.

She tries her best to deny it.

To deny him.

Because it can’t be. That can’t be him. That can’t be her best friend slash love of her life.

It’s just not possible.

And if it was then she must avoid him as much as possible.

For she has changed. And she is well aware of the fact that she has changed. She may have the same face and the same name, but she has become all too different.

She doesn’t want her love to see the new version of her.

Two people sat on the ground. Their back leaning against the sofa behind them. It’s a rare day when the two of them have a day off so they have decided to spend it by reading novels together.

“If you try to say another spoiler I’m going to seal your mouth shut.”

“But you have to listen to this!”

The woman tries to argue while tapping on a page of the book she’s currently reading.

“I’ll find out about it when I read it.”

“But I want to talk about it now!”

Kim Rok Soo shook his head at her. As if he couldn’t believe this was the same fierce person fighting monsters on the battlefield.

“Then wait.”

_____ internally smiled at the memory. She feels that familiar warmth in her chest she hadn’t felt for so long. As she did, she thought that it was a good idea to avoid Cale Henituse. She’s not sure if they’re the same person. And if they were she doesn’t know if he remembers her.

But it’s better to be on the safe side.

After all, it’d be embarrassing to see such a lively person turn into a shell of what they used to be.

“Just how long do I have to put up with this?”

_____ mumbled to herself as she picked at her food.

“Did you say something dear?”

“Nothing mother.”

She reciprocated her mother’s smile. After years of socializing with this family, she has learned to smile and bear it all. Things will become more complicated if she tries to refute.

“Where’s the antidote? Mix it in my usual juice.”

_____ orders her maid after lunch. The maid bowed and followed her orders like clockwork.

After all, this wasn’t the first time the young lady had been poisoned by her own family.

They see her as both a threat and an asset.

They try to bring her down, make themself look superior. But at the same time, they know that they need her.

It’s comedic. Really.

“My lady a letter has arrived.”

_____’s trusted maid hands her a tray that contains a glass of juice and a letter.

“That seal… It looks like it’s from the Henituse family.”

The young lady waved her hand away and the maid went out of the room.

Badump. Badump.

Her heart beats wildly in her chest and it’s not just because of the poison she consumed.

It’s not uncommon to receive letters from the guardians of the Dark Forest. They are business partners after all.

However _____ couldn’t help but feel nervous after the recent events.

Quickly drinking her juice that contains the antidote in one go, the transmigrator pulls the courage to open the letter.

“You have a very peculiar way of writing. I think I’d be able to recognize it anywhere.”

_____ hovered over Kim Rok Soo as he wrote something on a piece of paper.

“I would say you’re exaggerating but knowing you two, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Choi Jung Soo spoke up from the couch while eating some sort of junk food.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Rok Soo retaliates. His hands let go of the pencil in order to focus on his sworn brother.

“Nothing, nothing. I’m just saying. But hey, is that any way to speak to your hyung?”

“Again why are you the hyung? We were born on the same day”

“I was born first!”

True to what _____ said, she immediately recognized the handwriting on the letter. Its contents were concise, exactly how he likes to do things.

“He did his homework.”

The letter just said that the commander wanted to have a private meeting with _____ in order to talk about the upcoming war. The young noble instantly understands that he must want to talk about her territory’s military force.

She may not have an official title. She isn’t even declared as an official heir. Yet insiders, those who have a wide information network, will know that _____ is the one in control of her territory.

_____ doesn’t want to respond. But she has to. He wasn’t speaking as Cale Henituse or Kim Rok Soo.

He was speaking as Roan Kingdom’s Northeast Commander.

He was standing on business.

For he probably knows that’s the only way _____ wouldn’t avoid him.

Kim Rok Soo holds on the bleeding body in his arms.

Bleeding is an understatement.

The left side of her torso is gone. Eaten by the monster they are fighting.

“H ey, do you re member… remember our pro mise?”

A weak voice asks him. Kim Rok Soo nodded his head, too choked up to speak.

He does. Of course, he does. How can he forget?

He’ll record everything she says, no matter how trivial they are.

“Great… Th en I guess– I guess I can rest in pe ace.”

Kim Rok Soo doesn’t want that. He doesn’t need that.

“Don’t close your eyes. Please hold on. For me, for us. Please _____”

He begs. It’s so uncharacteristically of him to beg, but if it does the trick then he’ll do it a million times over.

_____ weakly chuckled. She may be weak and dying but there’s still fire in her eyes. A fire that will never be extinguished even in the face of death.

… or so Cale thought.

The fire that he thought would never die down is barely there in her eyes.

But it was still there.

It may be small. Struggling. But it’s there.

Alive and fighting to be as bright as it was before.

“_____…”

“Our business is now done, Commander Cale Henituse. If you have further business in the future please feel free to send me a letter like before.”

“_____.“

The young lady’s voice was firm, but Cale’s voice was firmer. He has no plans of letting her run away again.

He wouldn’t be able to let her slip from his embrace once more.

“Isn’t that concept sweet though?”

The two best friends are talking. They just finished a novel and are now discussing its contents with each other.

“You’re just a romantic.”

“But think about it. Promising to find each other even in another universe. Being together in every dimension…”

_____ stopped talking, lost in thought as she reminisced about the novel. Kim Rok Soo took it as a chance to stare at her face.

He has seen many people. Has read many descriptions of beautiful people in books.

But in his opinion, nothing beats _____’s looks.

Kim Rok Soo might be biased. His willing to admit that much. But his opinion won’t change.

“Hey Rok Soo?”

“What do you want?”

He grumbled as he suddenly came face to face with his “best friend”. Her face was full of excitement as she thought of a new idea.

“Let’s promise each other that in our next life, we’ll find each other again. Then let’s spill all of our secrets when we do. Not leaving anything out.”

Her idea sounds childish. Would they even remember anything in their next life? Would they even have a next life? If they did would they recognize each other?

Those were the thoughts that raced through Kim Rok Soo.

However, he doesn’t say it.

Because it was a silent confession. The best one they can give each other in this ruined world.

A promise to spill all their secrets huh?

It doesn’t need saying. Those secrets were probably talking about their feelings.

“Sure, I promise. We’ll meet again in our next life and tell each other everything.”

“_____”

Cale called out for the third time. _____ has changed and Cale has an inkling as to what brought that change.

Nothing he can’t handle.

His planning to overthrow an empire. Dealing with a noble family is nothing.

He’ll make things right.

Set things straight.

“I never break my promises. You know that _____.”

Cale– no Kim Rok Soo will make sure to fulfil his promise.

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