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simplyholl · 8 days ago

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Home For Christmas

Summary: When your mom puts pressure on you to bring a boyfriend home for Christmas, you turn to Bucky for help.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Southern F. Reader

Warnings: Reader is Southern. Smut. 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI. Fake dating. Maybe a little blasphemous? Fingering in a church. Getting fucked by a peppermint stick.

*A/N: I am Southern. I couldn’t get the idea of bringing Bucky home to the South for Christmas out of my head so this was born. Sorry if this is shit. I’m just getting back into writing again.

Mammaw = grandma

Pappaw = grandpa

^^ this is the peppermint sticks I’m talking about in the fic. I don’t know what they are really called.

See My Masterlist Here

The compound was bustling with Avengers and employees getting ready for the holidays. Everyone was going home or leaving with another member of the team. Everyone except for Bucky. He was quiet and kept to himself most of the time.

He is a grumpy asshole usually, so you just avoided him. You didn’t blame him for his behavior, you’d be the same if you were tortured and brainwashed by Hydra for decades. But the thought of him being alone in the huge, empty walls of the Avenger Compound pulled at your heartstrings. You couldn't leave without extending an invitation to him. There was an ulterior motive too. You were nice but he was a lot to deal with. He was sitting alone in the common room, reading a book when you approach him.

"Hey, do you have a minute?" You ask, looking a little weary as you walk towards him. He raises an eyebrow, locating his bookmark and placing it inside his book as he closes it. "So I know we aren’t exactly friends, but I couldn't leave without asking. Do you want to spend Christmas with me and my family?" Bucky's eyebrows furrow together as he looks at you. "You're serious?" He asks, resting his chin on his fist.

You nod your head, waiting for his answer. "Why would I want to do that?" It was a fair question; one you had even expected. "I just thought you might want to have some company, have a home cooked meal. Nobody should have to spend Christmas alone." He looks at you suspiciously, “What’s the catch?”

You bite your lip, damn he was good at reading you. “Okay, you got me. So my momma has been hounding me about finding a nice man and settling down. Which is crazy. I’m an Avenger and that’s not enough for her. But she is dead set on grand babies and planning a wedding. So I might have lied and told her I had a boyfriend to get her off my back. I also might have told her I’d be bringing him home with me. So, if you come with me maybe you could help me out and pretend to be my boyfriend?”

Bucky laughs, a low gutteral sound escaping him. “No way in hell, princess.” He smirks. “I’ll stay here, order takeout, and get a break from all of you idiots. Why would I want to go home with you and play the part of your doting boyfriend? We barely talk.” You sigh. He made a good point. And if the shoe was on the other foot, you wouldn’t want to help him either.

But you were desperate. You didn’t want to disappoint your mom. She was really excited that you had a serious boyfriend. So you sink to your knees in front of Bucky, putting on the biggest pouty face you could muster. You bat your eyelashes and try to work up a few tears, but they wouldn’t come. “Please Bucky, I’m begging you. I’ll do anything.”

You look into his blue eyes hoping this would work. There had to be something he wanted. Then you saw it, a little flicker of something in his eyes. “Anything?” He asks with a smirk. “Yes. Name it and it’s yours. I’ll do your laundry for a month. I’ll scrub your suit after missions. I’ll cook all your meals. Whatever you want.”

Bucky smiles wolfishly at you, his flesh hand coming up to your face. He cups your cheek, looking into your eyes before dropping his gaze down to your lips. His thumb rubs against your bottom lip as he holds his gaze on you. “So I go home with you, spend Christmas with your family and pretend I’m your boyfriend?”

“Yes, my very serious boyfriend who could pop the question at any time.” I add making sure he knew what I expected. “Fine, I’ll do it.” You look a little surprised but quickly hide it. You thought it would take more convincing. “But I want boyfriend privileges.”

“What does that mean?” You ask, a confused expression on your face. “It means if I’m going to pretend to be your boyfriend I get to enjoy everything a boyfriend would, including having sex with you.” He smirks. Your eyes go wide. “You want to have sex with me? You don’t even like me.”

“You’re right. But I want you. If you want me to play the part then that’s my condition.” You don’t have to think about it, not really. You have eyes. Bucky is a handsome man. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to sleep with him too. But you didn’t want him to know you were eager so you pretended like you were thinking about his offer. Instead you were thinking about his metal hand wrapped around your throat. “Deal.” You stick your hand out to him and he shakes it.

You were an idiot. That was the only explanation you had. You were five hours into a ten and a half hour car ride. The gps kept adding minutes to the trip and traffic was crazy. You should have booked a flight, but you wanted to drive. Now, you were dealing with an aggravated super soldier who was cussing the other drivers on the interstate. You didn’t dare complain when he went over the speed limit or when he gave the finger as he was passing another car. But you did sneak glances every few seconds at him.

He was so hot all riled up like this. The blue vein in his neck throbbing, the wild look in his eyes, the death grip he had on the steering wheel. You had to hold yourself back from offering to blow him right here in the car.

The trip down south was long and almost torturous. When Bucky wasn’t yelling at the other drivers, he was fighting with you. But you survived. When you see the big sign welcoming you to your home state, you couldn’t contain your excitement. You point out all your old hang outs, telling Bucky stories about your childhood as you drove through your town. Finally, he pulls into your driveway. Your Mom’s, Mammaw’s, and Aunt’s houses were all decorated for Christmas. You loved that they were all neighbors. Most of your family lives pretty close by.

You get out of the car, letting the cool air hit you. You take in your surroundings. The trees were bare from shedding their leaves but it was still beautiful here. Bucky gets out doing the same. You both carry your bags to your old childhood bedroom that your mom had set up to accommodate the two of you. You give Bucky a tour since nobody was home. He stops to look at the big Christmas tree with presents underneath. He looks at the ornaments, turning over one you had made in Sunday School when you were a little girl. He looks like he is about to make some smart ass remark when he freezes.

His eyes land on something and you follow his gaze to the stockings your mom hung up. They were all red velvet with your family’s names embroidered in gold cursive on them. They were all filled to the brim, some candy poking out of the top. Bucky touches one gently, a look of disbelief on his face. Then you see it too. Your mom had gotten him a stocking. It was hung right beside yours. And in the same gold letters as everyone else’s, ‘Bucky’ was on it and it was overflowing more than the others.

“I’ve never had a stocking like this.” He admits quietly. “We were poor and my ma just got us oranges and apples. She would bake a cake and we might get one gift . A toy gun for me, a doll for my sister. Nothing like this.” You grab his flesh hand, rubbing your thumb along the top of it. You’re interrupted when your mom comes in. Her eagle eyes on your hand in Bucky’s, a huge smile on her face.

You run to her, giving her a big hug. “Momma, this is my boyfriend, Bucky.” You gesture to him, and he walks over shaking her hand. “I’m James Barnes, ma’am. But you can call me Bucky.” He flashes her a huge smile and she blushes. You roll your eyes. He was really laying it on thick.

After you caught up with her and Bucky answered all of her questions, you all go over to your Mammaw’s house. She was watching Bonanza on tv. She loves those old western shows. She and Bucky talked for ages about them. Apparently, he was a fan too. You and your mom carried in wood for her stove while he kept her company. “We are gonna have to borrow the neighbor’s wood splitter again. We have almost used up all her chopped wood.” Your mom tells you.

“I can split it.” Bucky offers. You give him a surprised look. “You will?” He nods his head. “Just show me where everything is. I’ll take care of it.” You shrug and take him outside. Showing him where he can bust the wood. You give him a an axe and some old work gloves before heading inside to watch westerns.

After an hour, you go outside to check on him and bring him some water. When you go back in, you find your mom and Mammaw at the window giggling like school girls. “What?” You ask. Your mom motions you over and you look out the window just in time to see Bucky take his black henley off. His muscles are slick with sweat. He swings the axe down forcefully and the muscles in his back move sinfully. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head.

You hear your Mammaw gasp as he continues chopping the wood. Your mom pats you on the back, “You did great, honey.” You giggle, actually giggle. You can’t help it. He looks incredible and you’re glad he came up with the whole sex idea or else you would put your pride aside and beg him to fuck you. He busts the last piece, propping the axe up against the wood pile and heading toward the house. You’ve never seen your Mammaw run so fast to get back in her rocking chair.

You take Bucky to visit your Pappaw. He showed him his gun collection. Which you think was his way of threatening him. Your pappaw sends you out to get lunch for everyone, but keeps Bucky there with him. You’d love to be a fly on the wall. Pappaw is probably giving him the whole ‘what are your intentions with my granddaughter’ talk. When you left, he shook Bucky’s hand and told you he was a fine young man. So their talk must have went well.

The next night, you and Bucky were going with your mom to watch the church Christmas program. That was one thing about your mom, she raised you to be a Southern Baptist and you were expected to go to church if you were home. This time was no different. You put on a long sleeve dress, fix your hair, and put on a little mascara. Bucky is wearing dark jeans and a long sleeve button up. Your sister, her boyfriend, your Mammaw and your Pappaw were all at the church too. They sat on your mom’s usual pew, three up from the back on the left side.

There wasn’t any room for you and Bucky so you sat behind them. The church was unusually full, but they were expecting a lot of people to come. That’s what happens when there’s a Christmas program and a dinner afterward. People loved free food. All the little old ladies you went to church with your whole life came over to gawk at Bucky.

They were giving him peppermints and hard candies from the bottoms of their pocket books. They were hugging him, and feeling his muscles. They all told you how good you had done in getting a man like him. They told him how handsome he was. They pinched his cheeks. And one even pretended like she needed help walking back to her pew. But you had seen her just moments ago running over to scold a child who was trying to stick his finger in the cake she baked for after the program. Bucky took her arm and led her to the front of the church. Her grip on his muscled arm tight the whole time.

Finally the choir started singing and the program begins. You shivered, regretting your decision to not wear tights. The temperature in the church varies. It was either freezing or you were sweating. You grab a blanket off the back of your mom’s pew and laid it on your lap. You scoot closer to Bucky, hoping his body heat would help.

The children get up to start their part of the program. Bucky lifts the blanket and puts it over his left side, his metal hand underneath it. Your breath hitches when you feel the cold metal of his hand on your bare thigh. You look at him questioningly. He smiles and winks then turns his attention back to the children singing. His hand moves higher until it stops at the edge of your panties. Your eyes go wide and you put your hand over his, a silent plea to stop.

He reaches over with his flesh hand and moves your hand away. He moves his cool fingers under your panties, sliding them against your center. He gathers your slick, bringing it up to your clit and swirling his vibranium thumb. You grip his thigh and try to pay attention to the program. He slides two fingers inside you and you bite your lip to stifle the moan that escapes you. You’ve never been more thankful for the kids’ loud off key singing.

You look around to make sure no one is paying attention to you. Thankfully everyone is watching the program or taking pictures of the kids. You lay your head against his shoulder, making it look like you were cuddling your boyfriend enjoying the Christmas show. When you were really just trying to hide your face as it contorts in pleasure. Bucky’s fingers set a brutal pace as his cool thumb worked your clit. It was all too much. How he looked yesterday chopping the wood, how everyone loved him, the way he was taking you apart in the one place he absolutely shouldn’t. One more curl of his fingers and swipe to your clit and you were falling apart on Bucky’s fingers in church with your face buried in his shirt.

Finally your last day home arrived, Christmas Day. Your mom made a huge breakfast that your family came over to eat. Then you sat in front of the tree to open presents. You all started with your stockings. Truthfully, you were more excited to watch Bucky open his than to see what was in yours. He dumped it out. Candy, chocolates, candy canes, all kinds of treats spilled on the floor. Bucky’s whole face lit up in a smile. He had never looked more handsome.

He opened the gifts your mom got him, a couple shirts and a watch. He thanked her graciously. Then you hand him the gift you were eager to surprise him with. You ordered it online and had it shipped to your mom’s house and she wrapped it for you. He looks surprised as he opens it, a record player and some old records you had to pay an arm and a leg for. They were hard to find too. You asked Steve what music Bucky liked back in the day and you searched for days to find them on vinyl.

He pulls you in for a hug. “This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.” He whispers in your ear. You hold him tighter. The rest of the day is spent watching Christmas movies and eating cookies. Your mom set up a hot chocolate bar on the table with marshmallows, whip cream, sprinkles and peppermint sticks. It was a cute idea she got from Pinterest.

That night, you hug your mom goodnight as she heads to bed. You and Bucky stay up a little longer. Bucky was acting a little weird. He went out to the shed where your mom stored her Christmas decorations and he was being secretive. When you asked about it, he told you it was a surprise. So you stopped asking questions and tried to finish watching The Year Without A Santa Claus. When it was over, you went to your childhood bedroom where Bucky had been for a while.

“Can I come in yet?” You ask as you stick your head in the doorway. When Bucky nods, you shut and lock the door behind you. “Strip.” He commands. You don’t hesitate. You would walk on hot coals barefoot if he asked you to. You place all your clothes in a pile on the floor and stand bare before him. “Get on the bed.” He gestures with his vibranium finger. You lay down and watch as he pulls something out from under the bed. Old Christmas lights that your mom didn’t use this year.

Bucky must have been in here untangling them. He holds your wrists above your head and wraps the lights around them. Then he brings it down your arms and to your chest. He binds it around your breasts and over your stomach. You try to move your wrists, but it’s too tight. Not enough to hurt but maybe a little uncomfortable.

He stands at the foot of the bed admiring you. “Perfect.” He grabs the mug of peppermint sticks your mom had set out off the dresser, twirling one between his fingers. He lays on the bed between your legs pressing a kiss to inside your thigh. You feel his scruffy cheeks against your thighs and you shiver. He leans his head down and licks up your center. Bucky’s flesh hand grabs your thigh, spreading your legs wider.

He looks up at you from between your thighs. His blue eyes never leaving yours as he puts the peppermint stick in his mouth. He twirls it between his lips, getting it wet. He removes it with a plop, and he brings it down, sliding it inside you with ease. His warm tongue flicks your clit, the peppermint making it tingle.

You moan as he swirls his skilled muscle around you. Bucky works the peppermint stick slowly moving it in and out. Each time he puts it back inside you, he angles it to reach that spot that makes you see stars and your toes curl. He rolls his tongue over you as he pumps the peppermint stick faster.

You arch your back and try to get closer to him. You want to reach down and tangle your fingers in his hair while he tastes you. But you can’t move your arms because of the Christmas lights he tied you with. Bucky removes the peppermint stick and brings it to his mouth, sucking your arousal off it. He moans, looking in your eyes as he slurps you off it.

He lowers his head again, his now icy mouth closing around your clit. He sucks you between his lips, his tongue flicking against it gently. You writhe underneath him as he holds your hips down with his metal arm. He slides the peppermint stick back inside you as his lips tug your clit. He moans against you and that’s your undoing. You cry out as your orgasm crashes through you, wrecking you. Bucky keeps up the good work until your shuddering subsides.

The next morning, you both tell your family goodbye. Bucky packs all your belongings into the car and you start the long journey back to the compound. This time instead of yelling at the other drivers, Bucky holds your hand the whole way. “I can’t wait to come back next year.” He tells you with a huge smile on his face.

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gingeralecranberry · 20 days ago

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CHAPTER 2

𝟐-𝟐 ; 𝐮𝐧𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲

SHREDS, SHREDS, SHREDS

☺︎ cw:

death of a family member, mentions of death, death rituals, cremation, bones, mentions of bones, basement of the crematorium, sukuna's finger, gojo fucking satoru, fushiguro is still an edgy teen, still going to add the ooc warning cause I'd rather be safe than sorry even if I am ripping the dialogue straight from the english subtitles, thukuna the king of curtheth, reader has strong paternal insticts, i think that's it

The air was crisp, sun hanging high in the sky with just enough fluffy white clouds to look like a painting. For having so much doom and gloom locked inside, the tall glass building was surrounded on all sides with quiet, natural serenity.

The leaves overhead swayed gently with the breeze, allowing the two visitors to bask in the canopy's shade. Sitting on an ornately chiseled stone bench, the only sounds brushing past the pink-haired teen's ears were the distant calling of a gaggle of sparrows.

Having to visit the crematorium was never fun, but at least the scenery didn't make it unbearable.

"Who passed away?"

Gojo looked practically identical to the day before. Black gakuran and slacks, creepy blindfold, unruly white hair, and a somewhat bored smile.

Yuji couldn't exactly say anything, though. He's probably be wearing the same thing as yesterday if his clothes hadn't been ripped up. Hastily pulled over an ill-fitting pair of shorts and oversized t-shirt, Itadori was wearing a new emerald green zip-up hoodie.

"My grandpa, although he was more like a father to me."

There was a small, content smile on his face as he watched a couple ducks squabble over some fish food in a nearby pond.

"I see... sorry it happened at a time like this."

Offering his condolences, his masked eyes followed Itadori's gaze. Though, his focus drifted over to a third, unassuming duck in the process of stealing the fish food right underneath the squabbling birds' noses. His own smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Out of respect for the teenager's mourning, he let the sounds of the environment hang for a little bit longer.

"...So, have you decided what you want to do?"

"..."

Yuji's smile drooped, eyes still trained on the little window in the bushes. He didn't want to think about anything, if he was being honest. His mind was still spinning with all the sudden changes. Eventually though, he posed a single question.

"Are casualties like these from curses pretty common?"

Gojo hummed, resting his hand on his stony, grey seat. "This one was a rather exceptional case, but in terms of damage, it happens all the time."

"..."

Gojo drummed his fingers on the bench, waiting to see if there would be any response from the 15-year-old.

"..."

When he remained silent, the sorcerer cleared his throat. Another second passed. He opened his mouth to speak, but he hesitated for a second to contemplate his wording.

"It's a good night when someone dies a normal death after encountering a curse. Finding a body all torn apart is on the better end of the outcomes," the teacher tapped three bench a couple times, "If you plan to hunt down Sukuna, you're going to witness some gruesome scenes and I can't guarantee you won't end up like that yourself."

"..."

Gojo took a deep breath before pushing himself up to stand.

"So pick your poison."

"..."

Descending into the depths of the crypt-like basement of the crematorium, he hardly registered the bland, earthy, green-grey walls passing by as he and Gojo trailed behind the nice receptionist.

He kept replaying the sorcerer's words in his head, scattered, half-baked thoughts swimming around his cranium like fish in a bowl.

"You're a strong kid, so help others."

Then there was the issue of his grandfather's dying wish.

He cursed in his head as he entered the room.

Going on autopilot, he let his body carry him through the motions while tending to his grandpa's ashes. The atmosphere was thick and dusty, forced to remain stagnant by the oppressive tension, only interrupted by the occasional clinking of utensil on bone. Satoru Gojo observed silently, keeping a respectful distance.

Another piece of bone falls into the urn.

"If all parts of Sukuna were gone, would there be fewer people harmed by curses?"

Another piece.

"Of course."

A third.

"..."

He laid the last piece of bone in its eternal resting place, setting his tools aside. Carefully, as if handling a shard of the heavens themselves, Itadori lowered the porcelain lid on the cool grey urn.

"...do you still have that finger?"

Gojo couldn't keep the smile from creeping up the bottom half of his face. Slowly, his hand trailed to his pocket, digging around for a moment. he stepped closer to Itadori, offering him the cursed object.

Once again, examining the death and decay blotted all over its skin, he felt his nose crinkle and his face twist with disgust.

"Looking at it again, it's pretty disgusting."

Despite feeling the bile rushing up from the pit of his stomach at the mere thought he'd eaten something identical already, he threw the finger down the hatch. He nearly choked on it, but he clamped a hand over his mouth to ensure it would go down.

'...Well, that's the second one.'

Gojo watched, captivated by the black markings popping up all over Yuji's skin.

'One tenth of the whole... what's going to happen?'

Itadori could feel a cold sweat drip down the back of his neck, throat spasming as it attempted to reject the finger. he swallowed again, shivering at the feeling of the sharp black nail scraping his esophagus on the way down. His knees buckled as he clawed at the wall next to him for stability. He did his best to swallow again despite the room starting to spin. He shook his head, clutching his chest.

"Blegh! Gross!" he stuck his tongue out, "So gross it's funny!"

Gojo's grin grew wide, watching Sukuna's signature tattoos vanish.

'That settles it.'

The sorcerer watched the highschooler cringe at the aftertaste, none the wiser to any of the thoughts swirling in the teacher's head.

'It's not just a physical tolerance, he can control himself against Sukuna without issue.'

His Six Eyes raked over the teen, looking for any kind of internal struggle... but he couldn't find any. The King of Curses lay dormant, his oppressive malice blanketed by the boy's radiant optimism.

'...we haven't seen talent like that in a thousand years.'

Getting over the soapy chemical taste of the disgusting cursed flesh, Itadori's eyes eventually hovered over to the man observing him in eerie silence. He cocked his head to the side, "something wrong?"

Gojo blinked underneath his blindfold, forced to focus back in on the conversation. He shook his head, "Oh, it's nothing." He shoved his hands into his pockets. Notably, they felt a lot emptier. "I take it this means you've stilled your resolve?"

"Not at all," the boy stared at his open palm, "I'm still wondering why I have to be executed."

The teacher hummed thoughtfully.

"But," Yuji squeezed his open hand into a fist, "I can't just do nothing about the curse. That last request is going to a be a pain in the ass..." He tore his eyes away from his clenched fingers, staring into the fabric he guessed the sorcerer's eyes would've been,

"I'll eat every part of Sukuna, I don't care what happens from there. I've already decided how I'm going to die."

Gojo bristled, energy renewed near instantaneously, "Nice! I like people like you!" He pivoted on his foot, going back to the huge, cold steel door, "Sounds like a fun hell awaits! Make sure you're packed by the end of the day."

The pink-haired vessel trailed behind him, quirking a brow, "Are we going somewhere?"

The sorcerer pushed the door to the side, both suddenly surprised by the presence of a familiar face.

"Tokyo."

Covered basically head-to-toe in scratches, bruises, and scrapes, Fushiguro, in all his banged up and bandaged glory, stood just outside the door.

"Fushiguro!" Itadori gave an energized thumbs-up, "Looking good!"

The older teenager narrowed his eyes, seemingly irritated. "Really? You think so after seeing this?"

Gojo hummed, "Y'know he's kind of right. You look better than I thought you would..." he put a hand under his chin, leaning in close to Megumi's face. In something similar to a teasing reprimand, he questioned him, "Megumi... what did you do?"

The student rolled his eyes, "(surname) used his technique to speed up the healing process."

The white-haired sorcerer clasped his hands together in front of his chest, "That's just like Sensei, always so reliable!" He tilted his head to the side to peer past Fushiguro's shoulder, "Speaking of Sensei, where is he?"

Megumi sighed, "he already headed back to Jujutsu Tech to fill the elders in on the current situation."

The teacher's face dropped, excitement replaced by crushing heartbreak, "And he didn't stop to say goodbye?!"

His student grimaced in response to the loud noise, "Stop being dramatic, we'll meet up with him again tomorrow."

"Oh yeah!"

"We?" Itadori blinked owlishly.

Fushiguro nodded, "You're going to transfer to the same school for Jujutsu sorcerers I attend."

Seemingly having completely forgotten any and all previous transfressions, Gojo sprang up, "Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical High School!"

Megumi took the sudden change in stride, long having adapted to the ebbing and surging tides that were Satoru Gojo's mood. Yuji, on the other hand, couldn't say the same.

Just as gleefully, the teacher added, "By the way, you're the third first year!"

Yuji's jaw dropped.

"Only three?!"

The foothills of Mount Mushiro were extensive. The red clay bricks clearly highlighted the walkway cutting through the endless sea of green trees. The steps weren't completely even, but with each Tori gate Itadori and Gojo passed under, the boy's blindfolded chaperone could only feel more and more excitement and anticipation roll off the first year in waves. The childlike wonder was a welcome change of pace from most new students though. Unusually, they'd be complaining about the hike.

"This is really deep in the mountains! Is this actually Tokyo?"

Not Yuji, though.

He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet with each step, eager hands clasping the straps of his backpack tightly. Bright Amber eyes darted around the forested path to peer behind the shrubbery and get lost amongst the trees. It was amusing, to Gojo, at least.

"Even Tokyo's like this on the outskirts."

The teenager nodded wordlessly, eyes still trained on the forest all but swallowing the little brick road whole. Having lived a lonely life in Sendai devoid of travel, Yuji soaked in every new sight like a sponge. The path was monotonous, the trees looked the same in every direction, and the tall, ornate Tori gates were basically invisible between the shade and leaves. But even then, Yuji took everything in with a twinkle in his eye. You'd think if he stopped paying attention, it would disappear before his very eyes.

If only he had someone to enjoy the scenery with...

He snapped out of his temporary stupor, a frown materializing on his face as he faced the man he was walking with, "Where's Fushiguro?"

It seemed that Itadori did actually miss something when he's stopped paying attention; something pretty major. Since he was staring up at the trees, inspecting little fallen leaves, counting any hills, etc... he failed to notice that they were fast approaching the school.

The rumble of a familiar, if not a little tired, voice answered him. "I picked him up yesterday, he got properly patched up and he's back in his dorm resting."

Gojo immediately perked up, eyes flicking from his student over to the voice, "Sensei! Shoko told me you were already off on another mission."

From the grand entrance of the protective school walls, (name) waved a quick greeting, "Plans change. I'll be hanging around the school for a couple weeks." The older sorcerer turned back to the teen, "It's nice to see you again, Itadori."

The boy blinked before immediately dropping into a stiff 90 degree bow, "It's great to see you again, Sensei!"

"Oh," the man hummed, giving a strained smile, "You don't need to call me that, I'm not a teacher."

Yuji picked up his head, an expression not dissimilar to a befuddled puppy stretched across his face, "Huh? But if you're not a teacher, why would you be at a school?"

(name) opened his mouth to answer, but his voice was drowned out by Gojo's, "Sorcerer Lesson No. 1, listen carefully!" The white-haired man removed his hand from its designated pocket, raising a finger, "Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical High School is one of only two jujutsu educational facilities. On the surface, its a private religious school, but a lot of jujutsu sorcerers actually continue to use it as a base after graduation."

Itadori nodded along, "So... (surname)-sensei is just reporting back to base?"

"Precisely!" Gojo snapped his fingers, "The school's a pillar of the jujutsu community, not just in education, but for support and mediation in missions."

(name) gave a hum of approval, examining his nails, "Well, as much as I'd love for you to continue, if we don't head out soon, we're going to be late."

"Late?"

"..."

It felt like the air got a few degrees colder.

"..."

Gojo only had a millisecond to react before a deft hand smacked him upside the head with merciless force and a practiced precision.

He yelped, hand automatically flying to nurse the new welt.

"You didn't tell him?!"

Yuji gulped, "Didn't tell me what...?"

Gojo, still cradling the back of his noggin, gave an annoyingly nonchalant smile, "Surprise! You're about to have an interview with the principal!"

The former teacher went to smack him again, but his hand was caught in the younger man's infinity, "Take this seriously!"

"I am!" the blindfolded sorcerer bit back, "So stop embarrassing me in front of my students! I'm supposed to be their ultra reliable, super cool and mysterious sensei!"

"Excuse him," (name) rolled his eyes, retracted the offending hand as he turned his attention back to the extremely confused vessel. He sighed, offering an apologetic bow, "I'll take over any explanations from here on out." Gesturing for the teen to follow him, he began the journey to the principal's office.

"Wh- Sensei! Hey! Not cool! Super UNCOOL!"

His "Sensei" paid Satoru no mind, "The principal is in charge of admissions. He likes to personally interview any and all new entrants to make sure they're compatible with the program."

The boy nodded along, squeezing the handles of his backpack again while his attention wandered over to the surroundings.

All of the school buildings were constructed to be the splitting image of traditional Japanese architecture, specifically Buddhist Japanese architecture. The buildings and walls fencing in the school campus were a warm off-white, framed with this deep brown oaky wood. The stone shingles covering each roof, Tori gate, and fence were a deeper brown, teetering on black.

The temple-like structures towered over the entire mountaintop including the vast array of plant life on the ground anywhere there wasn't a smooth beige walkway. Further in, he caught sight of a skinny stream that opened into a cute pond. Under a plain-looking, aged, and weathered bridge, the pond was alive with little fish, flora, and decor.

Lilypads with Lotuses in full bloom, tiny silver-scaled bodies that basically looked transparent, and so much more. The largely Buddhist iconography didn't go unnoticed either. There were stone statues everywhere, talisman, and, of course, the shrines themselves. He was so enamored, he hadn't even noticed he'd zoned out. Yuji would've loved to get a better look at everything before his moment of peace was abruptly cut short.

"Screw this up and he could reject your admission, so stay frosty!"

"Huh?!"

This time, before the eldest sorcerer could land another hit on the white-hair of the teacher's head, Gojo ducked out of the way, "What is wrong with you today?!"

His former student went to vocalize a rebuttal, but they were interrupted by the (now very panicked) teen, "And what then? Immediate Execution?!"

Quickly, nearly instinctually, (name) began running damage control, "You don't have anything to worry about Itadori, you're a strong kid." He crossed his arms, throwing a glare in the younger teacher's direction, "and if anything happens, Gojo and I will be here to smooth things out."

Obediently, so as to not be smacked again, Satoru nodded his head in the background.

"Yeah..." Yuji processed the answer, taking a moment to soak in the reassurance before nodding his head slowly, "Yeah, okay, so it's just an interview with the principal?"

"What? So you're not the boss?"

All three pairs of footsteps grinded to an abrupt halt.

"Any hierarchy other than strength is worthless."

"..."

Itadori had manifested a new mouth, it seemed.

The lips were lined with jagged teeth, loaded with venom and complimented by a tongue dipped in vitriol. The mouth on the student's cheek donned a sickeningly smug grin, laced with a resentful condescension.

As quickly as the mouth opened to speak, Yuji slapped his hand over it. With a pale flush on his cheekbones, he launched into a hurried apology, "Sorry Sensei! He pops out sometimes..."

Gojo leaned closer to the boy's face, basically boring holes into Itadori's face through his blindfold, "What an interesting body you have now..."

With an abrupt shove, (name) moved Gojo aside to give the poor kid some personal space, "Does this happen often? Are there usually any side effects?"

Before he could replay, a new mouth manifested itself on the back of his hand. "Your appearance is misleading, but up close, it's much easier to gauge the potency of your cursed energy."

"Agh! Not again!"

"And you," the previously light-hearted leer took a turn toward a deeper breed of hatred, "I owe you a favor, y'know. Once I make this brat's body my own, you'll be the first one I kill."

"What an honor," Gojo cooed, "to be targeted by Sukuna himself."

Another hand came up to slap over the new mouth, "Is this guy really that famous?"

(name) brushed off the question entirely. In one ear and out the other, Itadori's words floated away with the mild summer breeze. "Are you okay? Did you feel any changes in your body or cursed energy?" He put his hands on Yuji's shoulders, scanning his body for any signs of distress; paying special attention to his face and hands.

"No, he kinda just shows up sometimes..." Allowing the older sorcerer to fuss over him, his brows bunched up in confusion, "Why? Should I be worried?"

From behind the cursed object specialist, Gojo peeked over his shoulder, "Well, Ryomen Sukuna is a fierce imaginary god with four arms and two faces." He paused, putting a hand under his chin, "Well, first he was a human that really existed," he made a flippant gesture with his hand, "even if it was over a thousand years ago."

(name) frown deepened, "Don't scare him, Satoru."

"Whaaat?" the man whined, "I'm telling the truth, aren't I?"

To this, (name) didn't have a response, instead, he gave Yuji a couple firm pats on the shoulders, standing up to his full height, "Let's keep moving."

The offending teacher rolled his eyes, shoving his hands back in his pockets, "Yeah, yeah." Still, the gesture seemed light-hearted. Just seconds later he had a grin on his face as the three started walking again, "Anyways!"

Itadori's eyes flicked over to (surname) momentarily, trying to decipher his expression, posture, anything really. Unsuccessfully though; he didn't know him well enough to pick up on any significant cues or tells.

In the background, Satoru chattered on, "In the golden age of jujutsu, sorcerers gathered up all their might to challenge him and failed. Crowned with the title Sukuna, we couldn't even destroy his grave wax while he traversed the ages after death as a cursed object." Despite the weight of his words, the energy in the air was disturbingly calm, "Without a doubt, he is the King of Curses."

Yuji swallowed, trying to ignore the lump in his throat. His dragged eyes away from where they were fixed on (name)'s broad back. Carefully, he asked, "Who's stronger, you or him?"

If his grin could get any wider, it did. Crawling up the sides of his face with a wicked glee, his eyes trailed over to his former mentor, "Well... If Sukuna regained all his power, a fight might be a little draining."

"Would you lose?"

Satoru hummed, brimming with the bountiful sense of pride lodged deep in his core, "Nah, I'd win."

"..."

Itadori turned to the older sorcerer ahead of him and Gojo again, "What about you, (surname)-sensei?"

It wasn't all that noticeable, but like a flashbang, the smell of cursed energy stinking up the previously clean fresh air indicated surprise. As quickly as it had exploded, the oppressive blanket of energy was soaked back up into the man's body. His head whipped around to the two, "Ah- me?"

Without missing a beat, the teenager bobbed his messy head of pink hair up and down, "Gojo-sensei said he could and you were his teacher, right?"

(name) tried to play off the temporary lapse in his composure, shoving both his hands in his pockets. Weirder, it looked creepily similar to when Gojo did it. "Sorry Itadori, it's kind of hard to explain if you don't know the basics of sorcery. To answer your question, I probably wouldn't be able to win against a fully realized Sukuna. Maybe when I was younger, definitely not now."

In the background, Satoru groaned. "Cut it with the humble act already. You say that like you're 50 or something..."

Yuji glanced back to him.

"Well, I'm not getting any younger," the older man sighed, " I didn't say I was old and decrepit." He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time, "I just don't need to be the strongest anymore; you seem plenty happy to hold the title."

The blindfold obscured the admiration in his gaze, but the manner in which his chest puffed up and his chin upturned to drink in the praise betrayed any illusion of nonchalance. Itadori likened the change to a rooster fluffing up its feathers, "Well, naturally a student is meant to follow in the footsteps of his teacher."

(name) grimaced, "Hurry up, we're about to be late."

The young man stood between the two awkwardly, triddling his thumbs as he watched the more responsible adult pick up the pace. In response, Gojo scampered after him filling the atmosphere with complaints followed shortly by the new first year. Turning back to the walkways winding through the maze of traditional temples, he pondered the layout. He wasn't just curious about the buildings though, he had this burning question he really wanted to ask but he didn't know if it'd be weird.

Gojo frowned, posture slumping as he grumbled, "We're going to be late this, Yaga's going to be mad that," Gojo kicked a rock with his foot, "He's not doing anything important anyways."

(surname) just shook his head in defeated silence. He decided against arguing for the sake of his sanity.

"Ah, (surname)-sensei--I mean, well, nevermind--I really don't want to pry or be rude but I'm kinda curious, you don't have to-"

"Ask away."

Before Yuji could work himself into a nervous frenzy, something like a seventh sense tingled at the back of the former teacher's head with a foreign but familiar intuition.

Itadori chewed on the inside of cheek, trying to figure out the least offensive way to put it, "Well, uhm, you were his teacher, but you don't really look that much older than Gojo-Sensei?"

(name) nodded, "That would be correct. I'm only five years his senior since I'm 33."

JAZMIN BEAN : FAVORITE TOY

☺︎ taglist:

@angelkazusstuff @ahoeindeedinneed @wutap @mysouleaten @ilovebattinson @satansdaughter123 @http-l-o-k-i

masterlist: ☓

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ghetto-omega · 8 months ago

Text

‎‧‎❀‎✿❀Omegaverse Culture Overview❀✿❀

𑁍 warning.. I am.. African American... Never been outside the US, so I can really only speak on the culture around me. If people wanna weigh in on culture from other places please do. Actually, I'm begging, I'm rolling over, I'm listening please please please please please please please please please please volunteer your own headcanons. 𑁍

This will be a short overview of a lot of things, so it's just gonna be a lot of thoughts and not a lot of depth. However I am planning on actually making an indepth post about each one of these topics.

With that being said...

‎‧₊˚✿Food✿˚₊‧

𑁍just general food headcanons𑁍

The omega stereotype is craving carbs and sweet foods, specifically because of what they're like after heats. Most energy during heat is depleted, so in order to get their stamina back they have to eat all of carb heavy foods

The alpha stereotype is craving tough or crunchy foods, because of their ruts. With biting instincts ramped up they tend to want things that are harder to chew through. It's like the equivalent of putting a live cricket in a spider enclosure because they want the stimulation from hunting their food

Carb and protein filled foods tend to be stocked in most houses. Especially filling carbs. Families are typically very large, with multiple generations all living within walking distance or in the same house. Keeping dense foods stocked is important to keep everyone fed

Pups in particular tend to have slightly stricter diets because their stomach isn't built for handing some foods until at least their preteen years

‎‧₊˚✿Names✿˚₊‧

𑁍naming your children, as well as derogatory names𑁍

I think that people would tend to name their kids after items that smell good, their favorite foods, other family members, plants, and religion

I also think they'd be a fan of situational names as well as generational names

For example, have three kids, one being named Sunday (situational, born on a Sunday), Suzie (maybe a pack members or a family members name), and Sumiya but her nickname is sushi, and all of the names starting with "su" makes the names generational.

You could even expand on that and have all the packs kids names be something like suki, sumirah, summer, summo, ect. Giving you a quite literal generation of names. (<- my family did this ! All the girls names end in "ah" and all the boys end in "en or on")

I can also see a kid being named something like Foxglove, Cedar, Jasmine, or even something like Honey or Teatree, because that's what the parent's mate smells like

I think calling an omega a "slick dripper" or a "slick house" is uhm... Not exactly a slur but it's not something you should say.

I think that married betas and omegas are told they are "Collared". It's typically derogatory, but there are exceptions. I think the alpha equivalent would be "Bitched", which is basically always derogatory

I think some people call betas "baren" or "scentless". Once again, not a slur, but definitely something close to it lol

‎‧₊˚✿Housing✿˚₊‧

𑁍pack houses and their differences𑁍

There's two different notable styles of home. There's a regular house, and a pack house

Pack houses don't have too much of a difference, but they are larger and tend to follow similar layouts. With one floor being taken up with giant meeting rooms and similarly size kitchens, as well as at least one bathroom with either a huge tub or multiple small ones. The upstairs floor(s) tend to house all the bedrooms and a few smaller on suite bathrooms

Some pack houses are essentially just mini mansions, completely with a few different wings of the house all marked by a different meeting room

And the term "meeting room" is also a difference. They're essentially just big living rooms. Why is there a different name, isn't that a bit pretentious? You ask. Bc some guy who thought he was better than everyone else coined the term pack house and decided there needed to be a difference, for some reason

‎‧₊˚✿Families/Packs✿˚₊‧

‎𑁍general pack headcanons𑁍

Big families !!! Huge families even !! Families that take up entire neighborhoods or culdesacs !!

Conversations between kids where they ask how many mom's someone has is common !! Kids ask their parents why their friend gets to have 5 dads but they only get to have 2 !!

Not everyone's parents are romantic !! Some are just part of the same pack !!

In my personal au I use prime omegas and prime alphas, but they're just titles for the leaders of the pack. Even then, modernly they aren't doing much leading. It's more event planning, pupsitting, tie breaking lol, things like that

Your primes do not have to be mates or anything. It's just about who's the most reliable and level headed. Oftentimes, anybody who stays home for most or all of the day falls to this roll by default

‎‧₊˚✿Clothing✿˚₊‧

𑁍a few clothing headcanons𑁍

Collars aren't typically worn outside casually. Typically they have a cause. Whether it's newly weds, protests, covering scent glands, or some secret 4th thing, they typically have a purpose.

Honestly this whole section would need to be it's own post for me to do it justice tbh

Clothes that "trap scent" are pretty commonly worn. They're made of a light but thick fabric that cinches or cuffs around the scent glands and they often comes in matching sets. This is especially common in omega targeted gym wear, but there are sets made for everyone

Nuns also typically wear this type of garment

‎‧₊˚✿Other✿˚₊‧

𑁍miscellaneous headcanons𑁍

Gift giving is very important. Specifically, giving food is very important (I am biased, I am a very food orientated and motivated person). Giving someone food they don't like by accident is alright, but if you know they don't like it, and give it to them? Disrespectful.

So I'm semi familiar with the Christian Bible, I grew up going to church (<- religious trauma haver). You know how a lot of people draw Jesus as white even though he very much wasn't ?? Yeah I think people claim Jesus was an alpha, but he was a beta and there's overwhelming evidence in the Bible to show he was beta and people just ?? Ignore that bc they want to lol

Some people are born with animal features, some aren't. The place you were born in + your parents (and maybe a little plot relevant magic lol) determines what type of features you get. People who live in deserts or next to mountains are often born with horns or scales, while tropical and temperate climates tend to be born with more feathers and furry features

Heat blockers/suppressants as well as rut blockers/suppressants can only be prescribed by doctors. Giving them out or selling them can land you in prison post haste, but they're also so hard to get your hands on that the market of people buying them counterfeit grows everyday, despite the complications and risks

Blockers and suppressants can lead to fertility issues as well as immune issues, particularly in omegas, but don't count out anyone with ruts either, it's just less common. Lots of people on blockers are immunocompromised

Scent/pheromone blockers on the other hand, are much easier to come by, especially because they sell patches right over the counter. Though, if you wanted a much more discreet pill you would need to get those prescribed as well. It is particularly hard for omegas to get them prescribed, as usual

And that's it for now U⁠^⁠ｪ⁠^⁠U

This post is basically just a giant reminder for me to write about these topics in depth. Just a whole lotta surface level thoughts. I also didn't cover weddings, holidays, mating rituals, social climate, etc. so I'll have to do separate posts on those

This took a bit longer than I wanted bc I am uhm. Suicidal lol. And then there's the drake v Kendrick beef and I've been fixated on it. Like I fr don't even like K dot that much I've just always hated Drake fuck that nga !!!

If you see a spelling mistake... No you didn't...

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nevernonline · 11 months ago

Text

✧.* twenty-seven?; ksy

synopsis: you always wanted to be considered a ‘serious’ journalist, but to get the chance at moving up the ranks and getting to produce your own stories, you’re get an idea to do one final story and impress your boss, that’s where inspiration strikes with the one and only soonyoung.

part of my ninety minute movies one shot series. ♡︎

paring: hoshi x fem! reader.

genre: strangers2lvrs

warning/s:mentions of substances (alcohol, weed, cig, vape etc.) swearing, very bad jokes!, just fluffy and nice no seggsy time

word count: 8.4k

content: . non-idol idolings, some other svt members. hoshi is down bad fast xo.

note: my next little inspired movie writing is the icon that is 27 dresses. except instead of our female lead being the one in the wedding its my fav tiger (hamster) soony. I just love sappy cutie soonyoung so I apologize in advance. also unedited bc im a loser srry. it shouldn't be tew bad bc I tried to take my time lol. ily.

Finding a cozy spot at a table to the left of the bride and groom, you flipped open your notebook and started jotting down pin points on the decor, the flowers, the bride's beautiful flowing silk gown, and the way the groom looked at her with stars in his eyes.

The first dance song rang around the room gathering all the adorned looks of friends and family watching as another couple took the leap on spending the rest of their lives together.

A rocks glass was placed in front of your pen and paper as the chair next to her was suddenly filled with the stranger who put it there.

“Taking notes for your own wedding?”

“Oh. No, I'm doing a piece for the Daily on their wedding.”

“Are you y/n l/n by any chance?”

“I am. You’re familiar with me?”

“Yeah, just through the bride. She’s my sister. She talks about you nonstop. I’m Soonyoung, I was the one who contacted you.”

“I see. Nice to meet you. What’s the drink for?”

“Working hard, I figured you should at least enjoy yourself a little bit.”

“That’s nice. Thank you.”

Soonyoung stared at the girl across from him, trying to catch a peak at her notes seeing if she was painting this night in a perfect light.

You caught on and shut the book quietly, giving him a small wink as a shout it would be everything his sister wanted.

“What’s the drink?”

“A vodka soda, lemon.”

“So, you know my drink order? Thought you said you didn’t know who I was?”

“I saw you at a wedding a few weeks ago, my friend Seungkwan. I noticed your drink, that's all. That’s how I got your contact actually.”

“Lying on the first meet, a great sign. No wonder you look so familiar to me. You were the best man right? But blonde at the time?”

“My sister would’ve killed me if I was blonde at her wedding and sorry not lying just felt creepy admitting it.

“I liked it.”

Soonyoung laughed remembering the conversation he had with his sister about his hair.

“So what’s it like being in two weddings in one month, Soonyoung?”

“Actually I’m going to be in three. Next week my coworker is getting married. Which would make my wedding count twenty-six.”

“You’ve been to twenty-six weddings?”

“Yep. After next week anyway. What’s your wedding count?”

“Ones I’ve covered? Too many to count. Ones I’ve been in? Two I think. Both of my brothers are married. That’s about it.”

“So you cover weddings but aren’t married?”

Rolling your eyes at his unfiltered nature, you couldn’t help but feel like his question was out of curiosity and not judgment. The way his eyes searched hers for answers was genuinely adorable.

“Almost at one point, but he cheated on me and is marrying her now. I didn’t actually become a journalist to cover weddings anyway, it sort of just happened.”

“I see.”

“What about you? Being at all those weddings and never getting married?”

“No. Not even close, I was in love with the same girl for a long time, but she didn’t feel the same way.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

After spending the rest of your night enjoying Soonyoungs company, you bid goodbye to the bride and groom and headed back to your home to get down to working on the article.

Digging through your black leather tote you realize you forgot to take your journal home with you, leaving it on the white table cloth being distracted by a new friend.

Realizing you don’t have his number you took it upon yourself to stalk his social media profiles in hope you could find a way to get in contact with him, maybe he was your saving grace in taking your book for safekeeping until he could give it back to you.

Saying fuck it for now you just began typing away about your night, thanking god or whomever that you backed up your calendar digitally when you get a clever idea to write an article still about weddings, but about the person you met who had been a groomsmen all those times. Searching for any kind of photos and videos of his past times supporting nuptials.

All you came up with was a couple cheesing photos of him posing in his suits of many colors and types when you get the idea to go back into your own rolodex of photos and writings from weddings you’ve done in the past, noticing him standing near the bride and groom in just a few it was now safe to say he has piqued your interest even more than before.

You decided to draft an email to your boss begging for the chance to write her an article about the types of bridesmaids and groomsmen who’ve been involved in many years of weddings as a support, if you found one person who had done so many in a short time it wouldn’t be hard to find more right?

Before getting ready for bed you sat refreshing your email waiting for the go-ahead to investigate Soonyoung further with the excuse that it was simply just for work, it took multiple scrolls to the point where your thumb was starting to hurt from running it over the screen until she replied.

‘Y/n, feel free to start drafting up the story. If I like it I’ll let you have more creative articles in the future. Please have it on my desk in two weeks.’

When the morning finally arrived, you had to make the rough decision to get out of bed and head to grab a coffee from the shop in your apartment lobby. Normally you’d be cuddled on your couch with your cat, spending your Saturday morning reading and watching reruns of your favorite reality shows, but much to your surprise the coffee stash you usually have stocked has dried up.

Exiting the silver doors of the elevator a call came from the front desk attendant and you were met by a brown paper bag tied with a bow, the outside scribbled on with some crayons of silly faces and drawings of cartoon tigers, stickers of hello kitty, and a pink note taped to the handle.

“Miss. Y/l/n! Some boy dropped this for you last night.”

“Oh? Thank you, Max.”

Ripping open the small note in line for your morning brew, it instantly puts a smile on your face.

‘Hi, I noticed you left this on the table. Hope it’s not weird. I dropped it off for you. Your address was inside. At least I can stalk you now. - Soonyoung (wedding guy lol)”

Inside the bag was your planner and a few random pieces of candy thrown around. A small bookmark was placed on a page and written underneath was a date for next Thursday and the number of your new favorite subject marked ‘single seeking wedding date.’

After grabbing the paper cup from the barista behind the counter you whip your phone out and dial the number written inside your prized possession.

“Hello, is this the single seeking a date?”

“Hey, it is. Is this the cute girl who’s planner I found?”

“I think so? I don’t know any other cute girls who like going to weddings.”

“Are you available for drinks and a little pre-wedding party?”

“When?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight? Wow. Eager to see me again I see.”

“I am. And I’m being bold right now which is new for me, so please don’t make me cry.”

“Aw. But I’m sure you’re so pretty when you cry.”

“I’m always pretty, y/n. So?”

“Sure. Why not?”

You heard Soonyoung gasp over the phone and drop something loud.

“Really?”

“Want me to take it back?”

“No. Cool. I will.. pick you up at 6:30? We can get some drinks before and then it’s just like a casual party, but my friends are kind of fancy so maybe like nice cocktail attire. I’m sure you know.”

“Okay. I’m sure you remember where to find me? After all, you did confess to being a stalker.”

“Oh my god. I was kidding, don’t take me seriously. I’ll see you then.”

“See you, Soony. Ok now I’m corny. That wasn’t meant to be a pun. Bye.”

Hearing the boy's laughter over the phone almost gave you butterflies.

“You’re funny. Bye.”

Spending the rest of your normally relaxing afternoon getting ready to slyly interrogate your new friend, you decided to not go out of your way to look overly special after all you weren’t even sure this quote on quote date was anything romantic or just a way of initiating a friendship.

Just before you leave your front door you sat to think if it was appropriate to bring along the same journal that was delivered to you the same morning, but made the conscious decision to leave it behind and not make this first night getting to know each other about you digging into his life for your own gain.

The ride down the elevator had you inspecting yourself in its small safety mirror, fixing the very last strand of hair that felt out of place on your head, not paying any attention to the people jumping off and on from their various floors.

When you finally stepped out into the marble covered lobby, you immediately spotted Soonyoung draped over the side of the couch holding his legs close, almost like a nervous child looking around the room and pouting because he can’t find his toy.

When he finally locked eyes with you his childlike demeanor changed immediately into a spunky puppy, jumping up from his seat and dusting off crumbs on his pants that weren’t even there in the first place, maybe to wipe his hands from their small sweat they were undergoing.

“Hi, y/n. You look very nice”

“Really? So do you. Where are we headed?”

“There’s a cool poet themed bar just like two blocks from here, I thought you’d enjoy it since you’re a writer and everything.”

You looked at Soonyoung with wide eyes, it was a sign of how considerate he was yet again, just like the thought he put into bringing you, your planner and decorating the bag.

His sharp brown eyes sparkled under the street lights, almost like they were reflecting stars, his baggy khaki pants with matching jacket slung perfectly over his frame, he was cute. You could admit it to yourself that something about him was magnetic and you already wanted more.

“Y/n? Is that not your thing? I’m sorry we can do something else, I shouldn’t of assumed all writers like poetr-“

“Oh I’m sorry, I was distracted. Has anyone told you that you have insanely cute eyes? But yes, poetry’s cool. I’m more of a classic novel girl, but it sounds fun. Stop second guessing yourself. You’re good.”

Your hand moved faster than your brain as you brought it up to pat him gently on his shoulder, a confirmation that you were having a good time and trying to ease his awkwardness.

“Yeah, people have once or twice.”

“Good. They really are cute.”

The pink of Soonyoung’s cheeks grew into a deep red as he led you into the bar. The walls were covered in decaying pieces of paper written with words people had to get out for comfort. The smell was like the oldest library on earth, with a tinge of vanilla and vodka ringing through.

Your brain took a moment to be present and remember all of the bad dates of your past. Maybe this wasn’t a date of your future, but if it was, he had already exceeded your expectations.

As the waitress took your order, one Body Electric for your new friend a legit inspiration from Walt

Whitman to your choice which was a play on a Sylvia Plath poem.

“Are you a lightweight?”

You looked at Soonyojng not even halfway through his drink, feeling the ease and warmth of his body next

to you.

“How can you tell?”

“You relaxed for the first time tonight.”

“I was nervous to hangout with you. I’m sorry. You’re just cool and pretty and I don’t know I feel like you’re way smarter than me and I’m intimidated by that sober”

“I’m sure that’s not true. But if it’s any help I was nervous too.”

“Really? So I have game?”

“No. But you’re so cute I’d die if I hurt your feelings.”

“So you’re a lightweight too?”

“What? No way. Just honest to a fault.”

Soonyoung smiled into the rim of his glass before taking his final sip and prompting you to finish your drink quickly, which you happily obliged.

“Okay, on the way there.. I have to admit something. The party we’re going to is for the girl I liked before she got with this guy… it’s like unrequited love in a way.”

“The girl you said you don’t love anymore?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I just wanted to see you again so I thought it was a good idea.”

“I’m down. I’m not sure what, but I’m down.”

“Cool.”

“Want me to pretend to be your girlfriend? Or? I feel like it would be weird to say we were on a first date.”

“Is this a date?”

“Is it not?”

“It was meant to be and it definitely is now.”

“So pretend girlfriend, Soony?”

“Maybe not an official girlfriend, how about… fourth date?”

“Okay, have we had sex?”

Soonyoung choked on his own spit which caused the two of you to end up in a fit of laughter on the street as you reached your next destination.

“Obviously.”

“That’s fair. I’ll tell everyone you were good.”

“I think I love you.”

“Shut up.”

After spending the night waltzing around and parading your further long relationship with your fake new boyfriend to his friends in hopes to prove his fondness for his newest engaged friend has gone away even slightly.

While maybe you were pretending to be on a date with Soonyoung, your head was spinning. If this was a fake date it was better than any date you had previously. Stepping outside to take a break from the party inside you pulled out your phone, jotting down notes and small nuggets of information you learned about Soonyoung’s past wedding experiences.

“Taking notes on me? What are you a PI?”

Behind you, you hadn’t realized the door you snuck out of opened and the boy had followed behind, curious if you were okay.

“Yeah, you’re under investigation for being overly nice. Sorry.”

“What do they say? I didn’t read them, just saw my name.”

“Just some antidotes I want to remember. Nothing crazy.”

“Do you want to leave? I’m starting to reach my alcohol limit and I would rather die than have you see my drunk alter ego the first time we hung out.”

“Yeah, come on, let's go.”

Going back through the back exit, you tripped behind Soonyoung’s tall frame grabbing onto his shoulder and giggling before he stood in the way of you hitting the ground.

His lips were curled into a goofy smile.

“I swear to god if you say something about me falling for you, you will get punched.”

“How did you know?”

“That fucking goofy smile you have on your face right now, I could just see it brewing in that head of yours.”

“Okay, I don’t like that you’ve already figured me out. Let’s go, klutz.”

Before you and Soonyoung could exit back into the fresh air, a familiar face appeared in front of you. Your ex boyfriend. Something about this night clicked for you, it was his party, there were so many people around and the only person from the wedding party you met was the bride. But taking a breath in and looking around the room, you realized how stupid you were to not see all the signs that this party was for him.

“Y/n? Hoshi? Hey, how have you guys been?”

Soonyoung still holding his arm around your shoulder gave a small back and fourth look between you and the tall boy who knew your name.

“You guys know each other?”

“Yep. Hi, Jihoon.”

“I didn’t know you knew Hoshi either?”

“Oh well we just started dating, he invited me to come hangout.”

“Dating? Wow. I didn’t know you had time for people outside of work anymore.”

“Jihoon, if you don’t mind we have to go now. Thank you for the open bar and this amazing time chatting, congratulations on marrying your hookup. Goodnight.”

The start of your walk with Soonyoung was pure silence, there was an obvious elephant in the room and you could tell he was just itching to talk about it, so you decided to prompt him.

“You’re curious aren’t you.”

“Yes. But I don’t want to ask you to talk about it because we’re having fun. So I figured I’d try to ignore it.”

“It’s fine. I’m curious too actually, it’s kind of funny that the girl you liked was hooking up with my boyfriend and now they’re married. And by funny I mean actually funny and we just spent the whole night not knowing that.”

“I didn’t even know that Jihoon had a girlfriend when they first met, he never said anything about it.”

“I don’t blame him actually, I do work way too much. I just wished he’d broken up with me instead of cheating on me for a month.”

“When did you guys break up?”

“Last December.”

“Oh.”

“It was more than a month wasn’t it?”

“I think so.”

“Cool, cool, cool.”

“That’s fucked up y/n, I’m so sorry.”

“That’s okay, we weren’t supposed to be together and his new girlfriend or future wife whatever seems like she’s really nice.”

“She is, but she’s too nice. She does everything he wants, maybe he couldn’t handle your independence.”

“Soony. You caught on that I’m a bad bitch?”

“Have you met yourself?”

“No. But, if I did I’d be obsessed with her and hate her at the same time.”

“That’s exactly how I feel.”

You punched his side, before stopping and realizing you had come up to your front door. Not even worried about the way your feet were aching to get out of your heeled shoes.

“This is me.”

“I know. I’ve been here like three times now in less than twenty-four hours. I’m starting to believe you actually think I’m stupid.”

“Not stupid. Just silly. I’ll see you again right?”

“I mean I did put days on your calendar to schedule out time for me.”

“You littl-“

Suddenly you were cut off by Soonyoung’s hand covering your mouth to put a stop to you cursing him out.

“I won’t take no for an answer.”

Sinking your teeth into his hand he retreated from his momentary confidence quickly, looking at the proud smile you were sporting, pointing your well manicured finger in his face.

“Don’t tell women to shut up, Soony.”

“I never said shut up, you were going to call me a mean name and I’m sensitive. Go back to calling me cute.”

“Maybe. Next time.”

You went in for a one armed hug when all of the sudden Soonyoung came in with both arms, clinking your heads together.

“Very smooth.”

He liked the fact that you constantly teased him while making light of situations, regaining his confidence he pulled you into his embrace enveloping both arms around your shoulders, placing a small kiss on the part of your forehead that crashed into his.

“I’ll see you next week.”

“What’s next week?”

“The wedding, check your planner. Well actually I’ll see you in two nights because we have to shop or go through your closet so we can match! Bye, y/nie.”

Caught off guard by the kiss on your head and watching him hail a cab like it was nothing, you couldn’t help but smile on your way into your building, met by Max at the front desk beaming as wide as you and giving you a wink. Knowing that he saw the cute and awkward interaction you shared with the hyper hamster outside.

The two days in between you and Soonyoung’s first official interaction, you felt yourself looking forward to seeing him again and being in his presence like your own personal serotonin boost.

The insane fact that your ex was marrying the girl he cheated on was enough, but the girl being Soonyoung’s painful crush? Especially when you felt he was becoming yours was beyond insane.

You made up separate drafts of your article about the people who make weddings shine, from the families, the bridal parties. the insane bachelor and bachelorette nights, and mainly Soonyoung’s love for love.

The two works of nonfiction were from different perspectives, one being your head and one being your heart. You couldn’t decide if it was appropriate to present a piece basically claiming how amazing you found Soonyoung for the whole world to see when you’re not even sure if he’d ever consider you to be more than a silly writer girl y/n, his friend or fake girlfriend. Your other was from the space of practicality, a genuine love letter to your career and the person who inspired this story, but also digging deep into the ideals of how frantic and selfish the wedding industry can be and what it means for an unmarried friend to take in burdens constantly for their loved ones when it takes a toll on their own heart.

The biggest debate in your body was the fact the real article, the one you wanted to write, was at the fault of someone who had only in the short space of two days made you feel again, but it was honest and genuine.

You knew Soonyoung had to have some pain working and being a part of a wedding for the girl he saw himself marrying.

Luckily you have another few days to decide which way it’ll go.

Sitting on the thought of what one you should put out, you were awoken out of your thought bubble to a string of buzzes from your cell phone sitting face down on your desk.

None other than the boy that had been living in your head for the past 48 hours.

Soonyoung’s texts were multiple lines of photos and silly messages asking you which outfit he should wear that could match any of the dresses you had hanging in your closet for the wedding.

One of the options was a beige suit, simple in theory but something about the way he styled it with a funky sage green t-shirt and matching sneakers made you smile. Even if you didn’t have anything to match this outfit you would make an effort to go out and spruce up your wardrobe to be on his level.

After quickly responding that it was your choice, he retorted back in his true fashion you’d have to send him your options too or he’d come over to help you.

In a desperate subconscious way you agreed to his antics.

Now nearly an hour later a call came from the front desk that a visitor had arrived asking for consent he could come upstairs which you happily agreed assuming it was none other than Soonyoung himself. The person on the opposite side of the door was not the sharp eyed boy you’d expected, but Jihoon.

“Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you after the other night, I just wanted to say hey.”

“Okay? Then text me. Don’t come over unannounced, I have a friend I’m expecting.”

“You wouldn’t have responded.”

“That’s true.”

Standing with your arms crossed in your doorway not letting Jihoon into the now redecorated apartment you once had let him live in, you weren’t budging on your gut feeling to let him in and talk.

“Can I come in?”

“Like I said. I’m expecting a friend. So.. no.”

“Who? Hoshi? You guys aren’t seriously together? He’s not your type, too goofy.”

“Isn’t he your friend?”

“He’s Nana’s friend, but he’s okay. I’m just saying it's not your style.”

Nana? A stupid nickname for his fiance who’s name was simply Anna. So as you rolled your eyes and shut your apartment door behind you as you stepped into the hallway as a clear defining factor he was not welcome you stood far apart from him as a line in the sand.

“He’s not goofy. He’s sweet and yes he’s on his way so maybe you should leave before saying anything else so he doesn’t get the wrong idea.”

Jihoon wavered a bit, looking towards the elevator door at the end of the hall as if like a movie Soonyoung would walk out of the elevator at the mention he was on his way over.

“Maybe take the stairs. I’ll see you at your wedding with my date.”

Rushing in and slamming the door in his face, you sink to the floor in a moment of pure exhaustion over interacting with someone like your ex.

Why wasn’t Soonyoung right for you? Why did you not want that to be true? And why were you so dead set on proving him absolutely wrong?

In your rush of emotions another knock came to your door. Without looking through the peephole you swung it open rapidly.

“Look I told you to g- oh, Soonyoung! Thank god.”

Your body made a move before your head could even catch up as you ended up hugging him tightly, rushing him inside as if Jihoon didn’t get the message and was watching in from a hidden spot in the corridor.

“Y/N are you okay?”

“Yes. Sorry, someone just came over that I did not want to see. Welcome.”

You watched as his eyes took in the view of your pink and green splattered apartment, things like funky vases full of wildflowers, plant tendrils floating down from shelves tucked between books of various sizes and ages, a small nook with sleeping white and black cat hid inside snuggling into his stuffed toy.

“I love it here.”

“Really? I redecorated recently, it was cold before. I love it now.”

“Also it smells amazing, do you bake? It smells like cookies and coffee. Wow.”

“I do not bake, but I do have candles that give the illusion. What’s in the bag?”

Soonyoung set a small black duffle bag down on the counter and began pulling the contents out one by one, showing them off like a beauty guru.

Wine, five small bags of potato chips, beer Incase you didn’t like wine and he was unsure, a slice of delicious looking chocolate cake, and a container marked with your name of his moms homemade soup.

“Why did you do this?”

“I thought we would have fun while picking out matching outfits. Will you let me see your closet? Please, please, please. I’m so curious.”

“It’s not that impressive at all.”

“If your apartment looks like this then I have only the highest expectations for you.”

Smiling, you jokingly made a come on motion with your fingers and led him into your spare bedroom that now existed as a half home office and half closet.

His eyes took in even more of your fun design work, the racks of records, pictures of you and your friends, and one of the things that made him feel like he could fall in love with you, your rack full of limited edition shoes and bags.

“Not impressive? You have some of the coolest shit I’ve ever seen in here?”

“I’m just a girl with a cat and a lot of time on my hands. Since being single I’ve just spent it on shopping and ordering take out.”

“If you don’t mind me asking what were you and Jihoon like together? You guys seem really opposite to me.”

There it was again, someone not right for you. Was it just in your head that you think maybe you’re the problem of why this comment is being made?

“Uh, we were okay at first. We met in college about three weeks before graduation and spent so much time together. But if I think about it, we just hung out in his dorm where I watched him play video games and watch anime even though I was not interested. I kind of wish I was more outspoken about it. I missed a bunch of things my friends had done wasting away on his futon drinking shitty cheap alcohol and waiting on him hand and foot and whatever else.”

“Really? So you guys dated for a long time I guess. Did it change a lot once you got out?”

“Not really. A lot of people knew we were ‘dating’ but in the time that we did, we probably went on one or two actual dates.”

“That makes me sad actually.”

“Why? I made the choice to do all those things. At least I don’t have an ugly poster of John Lennon on my wall just to show I loved him.”

Soonyoung was set off by that, laughing and imagining you having a photo of a musician on your wall to impress your boyfriend.

“What’s so funny? Haven’t you done anything embarrassing to impress a girl?”

“Definitely. Too many to choose from actually.”

“At least you're charming, I came off as obsessive and stupidly in love. Not a good look for me.”

“Caring too much is never a bad thing when you think you’re in love and you’re charming too.”

“Why thank you good sir.”

“And you’re weird. Which personally is a green flag for me. I didn’t expect that from you actually.”

“Is that a compliment though, really?”

“For me? Yes. I don’t like normal people well, not normal people I guess, just people who have no personality or something I can learn from. I want someone as a friend or whatever else to challenge me a little, it’s healthy.”

“I think that’s really cool of you, I agree. I like people that are willing to try new stuff or get me out of my comfort zone.”

“Was showing me your office a way of me getting you out of your comfort zone?”

“Sort of. This is kind of like my safe haven.”

Soonyoung just gave you a wide toothed smile, beaming from ear to eat that you admitted he was even just slightly somewhat of your type.

As the night went on and on the boy that has now broken down a couple of your walls, not quickly but brick by brick was sitting comfortably next to your cat curled up in the same manor helping you pick out something that would go with his two outfits, one for the wedding itself and one for the rehearsal dinner which he promised you that you’d only eat and leave to have more fun just out of respect for the couple and his friend Anna.

Now each of you taking the bottle of wine he brought slowly, sitting on your floor surrounded by shoes and loose pairs of pants, giggling over nothing he stared in your eyes almost like you could read that he had another interrogating question.

“Was Jihoon the one at the door before?”

“How did you kno–”

“I can’t remember you mentioning anybody that would come over unannounced and make you look as upset as you did.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know why he was here?”

“He just gave me some stupid antidote that he wanted to see me after the other day, I didn’t ask further. When I told him I had a friend coming over he just knew it was you for some reason and then told me we couldn’t be dating seriously because you’re not my type? As if he’d know? It was weird all around.”

“Do you still have feelings for him?”

“No. I realized once we broke up and now after knowing he was cheating on me more than a few nights that it was an amazing decision. When we first ended it I just kicked him out and ghosted all his texts, he used to update me on his life every now and again, the last time we talked for real, before today he called me crying that his Grandmother was sick, so we just had a brief talk and it ended for real there. I genuinely never thought I’d see him again.”

“Also, am I your type?”

Ss wine dribbled down your chin you were once again surprised by Soonyoung’s random fit of confidence.

“Yeah. You’re nice and I love how annoying you are. I think you get under my skin in the best way.”

“Wow. I’m surprised you admitted it.”

“What can I say, wine drunk y/n is honest.”

“And what about my physical type? Sexy, cool, handsome, the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen?”

Taking a note from his book you swung your closest arm to him, you clipped your fingers over his mouth and shut him up.

Much to your surprise he took a note from your book and instead of biting your hand he stuck his tongue through his lips and licked your fingers which caused you to lunge towards him further, jokingly pissed he did just so.

As you were fighting for comedic relief you sat suddenly face to face with him holding onto your wrists to resist more thrash fighting.

The two of you stared at each other filling the room with intense tension of your lips being so close once again.

“If I knew you wouldn’t be mad at me I’d kiss you right now.”

“Soonyoung, you’re so stupid. Why would I be mad at you?”

“So I can kiss you?”

“Nope.”

Soonyoung pushed his bottom lip out from his top, replacing his cute puppy face with a pouty one.

You decided to quickly dive in and pace a peck on his protruding bottom lip.

He immediately let you go and erupted into a fit of giggles like a little kid, as you tried to sneak away quickly he grabbed onto the arm of your sweatshirt which you quickly unzipped and slipped out of, running through the door of your office and into the rest of the house as he chased behind.

“You have to know I’m going to catch you for that, that was so mean y/n.”

As you were winning the fight, getting away from the boy chasing you around, you suddenly tripped up and felt his hand grasp your shoulder, turning you around with secret strength.

Standing face to face with him now, your stubbed toe throbbing through your fuzzy socks, you both were holding in a whole lot of laughter.

Soonyoung’s hand slipped behind your head and pulled you in for a much more romantic type of kiss than you gave him before. The two of you touched lips softly, as your smiles were still prominent on your faces.

Before anything could escalate further your phone began to ring again and your boss's name was plastered over the front, which you answered with panting breaths still in a haze from kissing the boy you made you feel young again.

“y/n? Hi, would you be able to send over a draft of your article you begged me for? We were looking for something to print for tomorrow if you’re interested? I’ll have someone expedite the editing process tonight.”

“Oh, shit. Yeah of course, I’ll rush and email it to you now.”

“Thank you, congratulations y/n.”

“Thank you. Bye.”

Oh my god, Soony, stay here. I have to email my boss quickly about my article, she wants to print it for tomorrow's paper. I’ll be right back.”

“What? Congratulations. But don't worry, I’m not leaving.”

“Good, sorry, be right back.”

Rushing back into your office you flipped open your computer and sent your final article draft, choosing the one that your gut felt would be better for your personal life at the moment, especially after the kiss you just shared with the boy it was about.

Typing a quick message along with your attachment you just said a big thank you and clicked send before grabbing the half drank bottle off the floor and ran back to Soonyoung munching on a bag of chips waiting for you.

“Shall we celebrate?”

“What are we celebrating?”

“Me, idiot. I’ve been trying to get a real article published ever since I got the job doing weddings. I love weddings, but always being so happy and cheerful and not getting a chance to stretch my creative juices is frustrating.”

“Can we also celebrate kissing? That seems more fun.”

“Shut up, asshole.”

Taking a swig from the bottle, you passed it over to your male counterpart and watching him take an equally large drink matching your energy.

You and Soonyoung spent the rest of the night talking about how tomorrow will go, where will you and he be sitting, will Jihoon be giving you side eyes or talking shit with some of the other guests. How nice of a chance it’ll be to experience a wedding simply just enjoying with someone on your side and not for work.

After sitting in bed and still thinking about your kiss with Soonyoung many hours later, you saw a text from your boss letting you know she loved the article and to watch out for it in the morning.

When that finally rolled around, you woke up to a lot of messages congratulating you and your new found success, many people from college, your parents, but the one person you were looking for was nowhere to be found in those texts.

Putting the praise aside for a moment, you slipped back out of your bed to jump into the shower and start getting ready for your dinner celebrating the devil that was your ex.

When you stepped out and went to grab onto your device once again you saw a text from the one person you were most excited to read, but it was less than exciting. Soonyoung expressed how upset the article made him and accused you of using him to further your career, something Jihoon supposedly warned him of the night of his pre-wedding party and he chose to ignore.

Confused why he would be so upset about your praise for him, you ran to your front door and ripped open the pages of the paper only to find the article that you sent was a mistake, it was the one shitting on weddings, basically claiming Soonyoung himself was an unmarried loser, not in those words but you could see why it came across that way. Some of the simple moments of praise for his hard work were cut out in the editing room, only leaving the small bits of gossip and harsh criticisms sprinkled in between.

Rushing back inside as your stomach sank to the floor you tried his number three times before getting no answer. Which made you frantically dial your boss’s number and interrogate her on why parts of your article were cut out, she simply answered that fluff doesn’t sell and she was proud of you.

Soonyoung not responding had let you in on the fact that he wasn’t going to be seeing you today or maybe even seeing anybody for that matter, he was embarrassed and rightfully so.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Continuing your quest on trying to reach him, you decided to still get ready for your night out, maybe not in the intense matching outfit way you wanted to last night, but just something where you could sneak into Jihoon’s wedding party and slide Soonyoung the real article you wanted him to read.

Running down the street to the venue with no accurate directions in sight, you saw your ex standing on a corner, smoking a brown wrapped joint in his suit.

“Jihoon. Jihoon.”

“What? Back to grovel for a favor?”

“Yes, please, just give this to Soonyoung for me. Please, I’ve never asked you for a favor like this, just once do something for me.”

“You’re really serious about him?”

“I am.”

“So you didn’t mean to slam him in the article like you did?”

“No. My boss cut out the good parts of the article, this was the one I meant to send. Just for me. I want you to be happy, Jihoon, I do. I want it for myself too, just please give it to him. Make sure he reads it.”

“Okay.”

“I know we haven’t had the best past and I know I'm coming here askin- Wait? Okay? Really?”

“Yeah. I can tell this means a lot to you and the reason I came over today was just to formally invite you to the wedding. You’re a big part of my life and now Soonyoung’s, well maybe, besides the point. My fiance is one of his best friends, she liked you too, that was the only reason.”

“Oh. Well I don’t think I’ll make it.”

“How about you come on official business and give this to him yourself?”

“No. I couldn’t do that. It’s your day not mine.”

“We both deserve a big love, y/n.”

Taking back your enveloped letter, you couldn’t help but be impressed by how mature Anna had made Jihoon become and you knew he was right. Sometimes love just falls in your lap and you can’t do anything about it.

Ashing out his joint, he handed you the other half as an olive branch to celebrate old times and bid you goodbye until tomorrow.

Before going back inside, he turned to you with one final wish.

“You better look damn good tomorrow too, no suits. Wear something nice to confess your feelings, otherwise you’ll look like a dumbass.”

“Got it.”

Catching your breath and shoving the letter and paraphernalia back into your purse, you decided to take Jihoon’s advice. To look amazing, you stumbled upon a shop called ‘All's Well that Ends Well.’ situation just a block down from the poetry inspired bar Soonyoung took you to just a few days before.

Stepping inside the store, the first thing you saw was a navy blue dress, the halter neckline and the silk straight flowing down to the floor, you knew it was meant for you. Especially because it would match the light pink suit Soonyoung was meant to be sporting with you by his side. The easiest shopping experience of your life.

As the sales associate packed your order up and sealed it with a light pink bow, you knew it was a sign or something of the sort.

With less than twenty-four hours of doing the most insane thing of your life, confessing to a man who essentially hated you after you had been kissing just hours before, you stayed up all night, using the weed that Jihoon gave you to stay focused on the task at hand, you almost considered cutting of your hair to enter a new era of your life, but only girls who were going through something would consider that and you attempted to tell yourself you were calm.

When the morning sun rang around you finished writing a letter to match the one already placed in the envelope to accompany your sorry. You even decorated the outside with stickers of tigers and spongebob characters just to make Soonyoung smile.

Sliding into your navy blue dress and silver heels, your hair was down and curled into perfect waves. You kissed your cat on the head and made your way over to the venue by foot, just to give yourself a little fresh air and piece of mind, hoping to slip in early enough so that you’d be seated before he even knew you came.

Slipping into a space near the back of the room on Jihoon’s side, you opened your phone to an encouraging text from him telling you that you’ve got this and he’s excited to hear more about it later, plus reminding you to have fun and enjoy yourself.

As the progression started you watched along with the other wedding goers, catching glimpses of Jihoon’s smiling family, which made your heart feel warm.

As the wedding part waltz down the aisle in their pastel pink suits and rosy toned dresses, you saw a now blonde again head appear on the arm of a girl who looked a lot like Anna, so it was fair to assume it was her sister.

Soonyoung didn’t glance your way, but something about the change in his demeanor made you aware he knew you had come.

“Everyone please rise for the bride.”

Anna walked out with her father on her arm, floating across the room like an angel in white. Her dress was adorned with small beaded flowers from the tips of her fingers down to the vail over her blonde hair.

She was truly beautiful, you couldn’t help but feel like a peasant in the room with this woman who both of the men you had either once had feelings for or now did once loved.

The whole ceremony was beautiful, but you missed a lot of it as you stared Soonyoung’s way trying to catch his eyes, but he never met yours. He was too busy enjoying the fact that his friends were getting married and the fact you had upset him.

When the ceremony ended you followed the other guests to the front of the church, holding your envelope in your hand and greeting the bride and groom, Anna and Jihoon beamed at you before she pointed her finger to a room off the side of the front door, some sort of administration office where Soonyoung would be waiting for you. Which also told you Jihoon had filled her in on your little plan.

You cracked open the old wooden door, trying to be subtle but the rotting wood creaked under the old floor boards making your entrance more known than you would’ve liked.

Soonyoung was seated in a red leather chair to the side of the desk, his now blonde hair meeting your eyes before his face. Not giving in to turn around and look at you.

“Soonyoung? I know you probably don’t want to speak to me. But, this was the real article. It was never meant to be that way. I’m sorry.”

You placed the letter in front of him on the desk and moved to turn back to the door before you heard his voice.

“So you didn’t mean all those mean things you wrote about me? That I was a desperate groomsman waiting for his shot to have a day for himself?”

“No.”

“You didn’t mean to say that my ostentatious nature was cringe worthy?”

“Not in that way no, my boss cut out all the good things I said about you. She put it in her own words for dramatic effect. I quit this morning.”

“You quit? Why?”

“I wanted to try to make this right in the best way I could, she wouldn’t reprint the article how I wrote it and told me that if I didn’t like her style I should get a job somewhere else. So I quit.”

Soonyoung just nodded, he couldn’t imagine why you would give up a golden opportunity just to prove your boss wrong or right for that matter all because of him. The only way he could make sense of what you were saying is that you were truly sorry and you cared about him.

He made a bold move and threw the letter in the trash can to the side of the old oak desk and got out of his chair to hug you.

“You’re not going to read it.”

Speaking into his shoulder, you got a calming exhale of his cologne.

“I don’t need to. I know you're telling me the truth, you said it yourself you don’t lie when you drink wine, and I can smell it on your breath.”

Slipping your hands up from their place around his neck into his hair you giggled slightly, looking at the now dyed blonde locks of hair.

“You dyed it back?”

“You said you liked it. I thought you’d be my date and I had the appointment so I didn’t want to cancel.”

“You weren’t hoping I’d show up here?”

“I knew you would. I saw you talking to Jihoon outside last night through the window. I wasn’t sure exactly because you did walk away and he never told me what happened. But, when I saw you today sitting in the crowd. I knew my inkling was right.”

“Did the cohesive outfit impress you? I missed one night, but I hope I made up for it today.”

Soonyoung pushed you away slightly by your shoulders and made you do a spin for him.

“You look beautiful.”

“You’re such a dork.”

Soonyoung playfully swung you around in the office covered in photos of church go-ers and crosses, bringing you into his chest tightly.

“So, what did you write in that article? That I was devilishly handsome and cool?”

“Nope. Just that you were a bad kisser.”

“Seems like you need a reminder.”

“Maybe.”

As your lips met Soonyoungs once again your heart sank into your stomach and was beating rapidly. You just fit and he never once doubted your heart.

“What do you say? Should we go outside and dance?”

“Can you even dance?”

“Y/n? Can I even dance? What do you even think I do for a living?”

“Oh. I’m such an idiot. Anna works at a talent agency. Got it.”

“Come on, silly. Before our audience outside gets bigger.”

When you exited the office back into the group of people outside, for some reason Jihoon started a cheer alongside his new wife.

Soon you and Soonyoung were dancing the night away and drinking a little too much than your stomachs could handle.

When you finally got a moment of dizzy drunkenness alone, he had you sitting on a bench where he knelt to the ground. Your mouth got the better of you once again.

“Oh my god you're not proposing already are you I mean I know I’m amaz-”

“Y/n shut up, I’m tying my shoe.”

“Cool, cool. Got it.”

“But the next wedding I attend hopefully I’ll be the groom.”

With a wink Soonyoung sat back at your side as you watched the stars together, making a mental note that the next wedding would belong to the both of you.

taglist: @sahazzy

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theunsinkableship1 · 4 months ago

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Help! I'm in a parasocial relationship with Lukola.

⚠️DISCLAIMER: This is LUKOLALAND only. Skip this if you're not a shipper. This is only my point of view. No harm intended.

Like many of us in Lukolaland, I fell for POLIN first, their fictional chemistry was attractive, and it pulled me in. But it wasn’t long before I fell harder for LUKOLA captivated by their real-life magnetic chemistry, the undeniable connection between the actors behind the characters which is absolutely based on friendship, but which I also believe is so much more than that. LUKOLA is now an increasingly significant part of my daily life, and while I don’t exactly know how or why I got here, here I am, steady aboard this ship. As someone experiencing this for the first time and seeing a lot of criticism towards the Lukola fandom, I wanted to reflect on what’s really going on here. After already delving into the negativity within the fandom in two previous posts, I now want to focus on the broader conversation about the legitimacy of our community.

A parasocial relationship is a one-sided connection where one party, usually a fan, becomes emotionally invested in a celebrity, fictional character, or public figure who doesn’t reciprocate that same level of personal connection. It’s a common phenomenon, especially in the digital age, where media blurs the lines between public personas and real people.

People often criticize shipping real people, like Luke and Nicola, claiming it’s “weird” or even invasive. I’ll admit, there’s a strangeness to it, and boundaries are important. But is it fair to label us as crazy for simply being invested in a connection we perceive? If we think about it, we “ship” people in our real lives all the time rooting for our friends to get together, hoping our favorite colleagues will hit it off. It’s human nature to be invested in connections we care about.

People say that the World Tour was only PR and that we are delusional to think they are together in real life. Most of us don’t think they’re together now that’s exactly why we’re shipping them, we saw something exceptional between them and we definitely think that they should be together, that’s the point. We can differentiate actors from characters that’s why we call them LUKOLA and not POLIN. There may have been some blurred lines and some real-life mirroring but that’s not the bulk of it.

It is true that the way the promotion was handled for season 3 intentionally blurred those lines. The marketing campaign, press interviews, and social media content often leaned heavily into the chemistry between the leads, with subtle implications that left room for fan speculation about a real-life relationship.

It’s important to address why dismissing the dynamic between Luke and Nicola as mere PR or labeling those who see a genuine connection as "crazy" is not okay.

The connection between Luke and Nicola has been evident for years, not just during the World Tour but also in their past public interactions and behind-the-scenes footage. Observers have noted consistent emotional undertones like shared glances, supportive gestures, and a natural intimacy that goes beyond professional behavior, suggesting a bond that isn't easily fabricated by PR. Their closeness has been acknowledged by some cast, crew, and even friends and family members, further validating what fans have perceived.

Many dismiss their relationship as PR due to biases rooted in celebrity culture, where staged romances are common. This skepticism often leads people to view all interactions as scripted, making it easier to label the connection as fake rather than recognizing the complexities of genuine human emotions unfolding under public scrutiny. Critics often struggle to separate the actors' real-life bond from their on-screen personas, overlooking the authenticity of their unscripted moments. Calling fans “crazy” for believing in their connection imposes a narrow view on what is clearly a nuanced and personal dynamic between Luke and Nicola.

It’s worth questioning why shipping fictional characters whose fates are pre-written and often predictable is more accepted than shipping real people who exhibit real chemistry and connection, on-screen and off. Fictional characters are constructed for our entertainment and should have a lesser impact on our reality, but when it comes to real-life dynamics, the thrill often lies in the authenticity and unpredictability.

Those dismissing the Lukola fandom often do so from a place of bias, without recognizing that many fans are deeply invested and knowledgeable about what they see behind the scenes, during interviews, and on social media. To us, the connection between Luke and Nicola isn’t just a fleeting fantasy, it’s something rooted in countless interactions that we’ve seen unfold publicly and sometimes even subtly in their private behaviors.

Some people also dismiss Lukola because they can’t fathom the connection due to their own preconceptions, like claiming Nicola isn’t Luke’s “type” based on superficial judgments. But connection often defies typecasting; it’s about shared moments, mutual respect, and chemistry that goes beyond looks or what we think we know about a person’s preferences. Critics often label fans as “crazy” for seeing a genuine connection between Luke and Nicola, imposing their own biases on them. These narrow views overlook the real, evolving nature of personal connections. Nicola's or Luke’s perceived divergences from the “ideal” partner is often unfairly judged, reflecting broader societal biases, including gendered scrutiny and fan projections. These misperceptions say more about public expectations than about Luke and Nicola’s real relationship, which is a deeply personal and nuanced relationship; Dismissing their bond because it challenges existing narratives. Recognizing the authenticity of their bond isn’t about fantasy; it’s about understanding the complexities of human relationships, especially under public scrutiny.

The Lukola fandom isn’t just a collection of people projecting their fantasies; it’s a group that sees a unique, genuine bond between two people, one that even some of their castmates, crew members, and close friends have noticed and commented on. Our community is about celebrating that bond and exploring the emotions it evokes, not just blindly fantasizing about it. The criticisms we face often come from people who view things through a biased lens, dismissing our perceptions often because they don’t align with theirs.

Lukola fandom provide an outlet for creativity, where fans can engage in discussions, create fan art, write fanfiction, and explore different interpretations of the interactions they love. It offers a sense of belonging and community, connecting people with shared interests. For many of us, being part of this fandom provides a supportive environment where we can express ourselves without being called crazy or delusional.

We can celebrate the content we love, helping to promote and keep the interest alive in Lukola and Bridgerton, and their other projects. This can contribute to the longevity of the careers and even influence future productions. The Lukola fandom has a right to exist and can be a positive community as long as its members engage responsibly. The key is maintaining a healthy balance between enjoying the content and respecting the personal lives of those involved in its creation.

We as fans should strive to maintain an objective perspective, appreciating Lukola’s work and interactions without crossing into invasive and illegal activities, entitlement or unrealistic expectations.

We should approach this with more tact and care, very demurely very mindfully, avoiding putting too much pressure on them to prevent any unintended consequences. It's important to keep our content within our community and minimize direct interactions, such as tagging or sharing posts with them, as much as possible. Let’s create a respectful space that doesn’t intrude on their personal boundaries.

In the end, it’s not about whether it’s right or wrong to ship real people; it’s about respecting the emotional investment of others and recognizing that these connections whether real or imagined bring joy, comfort, and community to many of us in Lukolaland.

#lukola #lukolaland

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thatsdemko · 2 years ago

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welcome to the club - c.sainz

part 1: pining series

pining series masterlist

warnings: news article + plot is slow

a/n: WELCOME TO THE FIRST OFFICIAL PART! this part is a lil slow I apologize! It’s all about the introduction of the plot! I promise the next part(which is finished and being edited) has more to it!

—

the black and white paper scatters the grounds of the paddock that you walk through. the familiar 28 year old Spaniards face from the Silverstone win covers the paper, with the words you read this morning from the comfort of your living room.

single. he, who was with his lovely girlfriend of seven years, called it quits, as of nearly a month ago. it shocked you, when all of the 2022 season you watched her care and heal his wounds of the hatred and support him when nobody else would. you watched their love grow stronger, and somehow it snapped.

the lovely women who once stood beside you in the Ferrari garages were now filled with unfamiliar faces and the occasional family members from time to time. but this one came as a shock to you.

“good morning, cherie.” the familiar accent that you’ve come to love enters your ears, a smile forming your lips, you turn to see Charles and Pierre with bright smiles sporting their team wear.

“good morning, boys.” your eyes scan their table. the black and white paper is being held by their water bottles, and the plates in front of them hold nothing but crumbs of a possible sandwich. the one thing you grew to learn about Charles, was wherever he was, Pierre was close by. and today it was near all the scattered papers for their convenience.

“you see the news?” Pierre lifts the paper up off the table, that same winning smile enters your vision from this morning, except the picture is not colorized and there’s noticeable water marks on the edges.

“of course I did, it’ll be the talk of today.” you sigh, media duties won’t be pleasant, and you’re sure Carlos will be a grumbling angry mess to deal with. and as always, you’re assigned to him when he’s that way, nobody else can fathom to deal with an angry Carlos.

“do you think he’s seen it?”

“seen what?” the Spaniard approaches from behind you, he grabs the paper out of Pierre’s hand and begins to read while you all study his expressions. you’re waiting for an outburst or some sort of reaction that confirms, or denies, the drama, but you get nothing. instead, he just hands the paper back and leaves. which maybe gives you the answers you were all waiting for.

“he’s not happy.” Charles mumbles shaking his head. there was no way to avoid it, their private lives were, somehow all people cared about, and sometimes the words and curiosity is what kills the most.

“he won’t be all day.”

—

“you did it. media is over.” you toss him his phone, that had been lighting up in your hand all afternoon.

he catches the device and instantly regrets flipping it over to see the millions of notifications from not only family members, but friends. they all ask the same thing, “what do you mean you guys broke up?”

to Carlos, it was pretty evident the relationship wasn’t going anywhere, and to the public eye, it seemed they were just keep things private like they always did. but with after party events still being in the talks, Carlos’ appearance with another girl stirred a riot, and his publicist forced him to confirm his new status.

“do you want to talk about it?” you lean against the doorframe of his drivers room, watching those big brown eyes flicker up from his phone. the beautiful thick lashes glow in the screens brightness, “what’s to talk about? we broke up.”

“I meant more about the newspaper.” you say watching his lips form into an ‘o’, head sinking down into his hands for a moment, “I guess it wasn’t that obvious to everyone we were broken up.”

you snort a laugh, watching his head lift from his hands, body leaning against the white wall, “there’s not much to say, but it’s all true. I am single.”

you nod, pushing your body off of the doorframe, “welcome to the singles club, it sucks.” you’re unsure to laugh or sigh, but both come out of your lips, and he does the same, nose scrunching lines by his eyes crinkling.

“at least I’m not alone in this club.”

tags: @arian-directioner @alilstressyandlotdepressy @ak0ma @ruebennett89 @mochimommy2002 @flyingmushroomss @icarus-nex @solo-pitstop-vibes @xjval @chimchimjiminie16 @bookophiliac

want to be tagged for the next part? don’t be shy to let me know🥰

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cloveroctobers · 7 months ago

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JEY USO x BLACK! READER — Spring Writings 🩵

A/N: I took a stab at writing for roman and now here I am doing the same for jey? Except this one isn’t strongly plot based…Wish me luck! I’m new to the scene so I apologize if this isn’t in his character…But I think I got it? We’ll see 😆

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + HERE & I’m using: “did you seriously use the last of the milk for this?” “i thought it would taste good!” + “well i put it on the grocery list!” “i didn’t think i needed the list!” “you clearly did!!” + “i can’t find the remote.” “i’m actually going to kill you.” 1. “But look, this is on sale!”

WARNINGS: language + just doing typical bickering couple things.

☀︎༄·❅☘︎ ☀︎༄·❅☘︎ ☀︎༄·❅☘︎ ☀︎༄·❅☘︎ ☀︎༄·❅☘︎ ☀︎

In the near future, you wanted to advocate for detaching your head (not on some Black mirror type shit, although you knew there was a 70% chance that it could go that route) and leaving it to get any protective style for yourself, sisters, brothers, and non-binaries while you went about your business before you came back to collect your freshly did head. You originally wanted to go in with some straight backs with the water wave left out towards the ends but switched to boho locs last minute.

Thankfully you had that type of relationship with your stylist so she didn’t mind much.

You were always down to try something new and been contemplating getting some locs after a few of your family members been on their journey for years now. Tending to your head nearly everyday was a hassle especially as a routine to go into the world and work. Hair had a mind of its own and it didn’t need to be explained, if you know, you know.

The last thirty minutes of your appointment, you were reaching out to your husband to see what was on the menu at home or if you needed to pick something up. The snacks your go to girl provided only held up for so long and when Jey told you that he had a taste for Kopai, basically hinting that would be for lunch or dinner—when Jey threw down he made enough for both occasions—you sat up a bit in the driver’s seat, one hand on the wheel, while you floated through the streets to get back home.

When you unlocked the white security gate to the bright russet orange home (Jey picked the exterior color and you weren’t crazy about it but at least it stood out from the other homes, which was his main goal), you were already hit with a whiff of spices, thanks to the breezy San Francisco spring air and found the petal pink front door wide open. Which made you quirk up a brow but you were too famished to think too hard about it as you quickly made your way through the small entry way into the master bedroom to toss your things onto the bed.

You sighed with a shake of your head as you made your way up the stairs, hearing Jey listening to Kendrick’s disses on loop again but you also ignored that as you made your way to the right where the kitchen and living room sat. Sneaking behind the man on your toes like swiper, you slapped a hand and squeezed his backside in greeting while Jey legit yelped and yanked himself away.

Grinning at him innocently you say, “why are your clappers clenched?”

Jey sucked his teeth while you attempted to hide your laughter, “yo, what I tell you about doing that man? That’s my job to do to you, not other way around.”

“I thought we believed in equality in this house?” You placed your hands on your hips while Jey just huffed.

You moved towards the stove, where Jey was hovering over. The soup pot was there, steaming but the aroma wasn’t giving Kopai. While jey was distracted on his phone again, mumbling to himself and nodding his head—possibly the lyrics—you snatched up a spoon to dip into the pot.

Wincing against the temperature on your tongue, you managed to get the food down after chewing and sucking air into your mouth. That was enough to get Jey’s attention as he looked at you with a straight face, annoyed that you went and sampled.

“This is not giving dumpling…where are the dumplings?” You managed to get out after your last chew.

Jey folded his muscular arms honestly replying, “that’s because there isn’t any.”

“Huh? But it’s Samoan Sunday.” Which meant each Sunday included something from Jey’s culture, sometimes combined with soul food, depending on what y’all were in the mood for.

Jey lifted his chin, “turns out it’s a whatever’s in the fridge day. That you just rudely sampled behind my back without giving me any proper love by the way, it’s spicy chicken and rice chowder.”

Scrunching up your face, you popped your tongue in distaste at the aftermath. Now that you knew what it was, it could explain this foul after taste because something wasn’t adding up.

“Joshua.”

“Oh here you go,” Jey threw his hands up in the air, “If I wanted another food critic, I’d just call your damn father.”

Your father has his own successful restaurant here in California and back up North where you were originally from. Majority of the time if your family was over, Jey did everything in his power not to be the one who was solely on food duty because your father was very critical especially when it came to food.

That’s that Virgo shit.

“Chowder includes milk right?” You didn’t get the culinary trait but you watched enough cooking competitions and attended plenty to know the basics. You weren’t the biggest fan of seafood, although that was the common type of chowder, there was no seafood in this dish.

It still didn’t taste right to you.

And Jey usually knew what to do in the kitchen, more so on the grill but still he got by and knew Gordon Ramsey would approve of at least a few of his dishes. If not? His bitch ass could certainly see Jey’s hands. Not your pops though, he wasn’t messing with him at all.

Jey scoffed, “yeah.”

“Hey, I’m not feeling your attitude.” You addressed over your shoulder as you went to the fridge to open up.

Jey shot back, “well I’m not feelin’ you sneaking and holdin’ two handfuls of my ass but here we are.”

It was one hand but whatever fed his ego.

He was really about to bring the hangry out of you if he kept it up to be honest. Your hands went to the top shelf, immediately spotting the now empty glass milk bottle. Yanking it out, you held it up in the air for your husband to see.

“Did you seriously use the last of the milk for this?” You questioned, one hand on your hip now.

He blinked between you and the glass and then back again, “I thought it would taste good!”

Your eye twitched, “With expired milk, Josh?!”

He scrunched up his face at this news, “be for real,” he starts as he makes his way towards you to grab the glass, “…how was I supposed to know?”

Jey’s fingers quickly unscrewed the silicone dispenser cap to take a sniff of the inside and recoiled.

“By doing that like you normally do.” You respond, “also there’s a label on the back that aways gets written with the expiration date.”

Jey snarled, “Why can’t we just keep the damn carton instead of this aesthetically pleasing bullshit?”

“That’s rich coming from Mr. Leo the flashy asshole himself.” You tilted your head to the side, sending him the same type of energy.

“Why am I catching strays?” Jey pounded on his chest, voice naturally booming off the walls, “it’s my fault I like nice things?”

‘And that I tried to cook us a meal?’ He thinks to himself.

“No but it’s mine?” You repeat his motions, pointing at your own chest while Jey sighs, “I tried to remind you this morning before I left, that the milk needed to be dumped.”

Jey scratches at his ear with his lips pushed out in thought, “I heard none of that.”

“Well, I put it on the grocery list!” Your voice went up now and you can only blame your hunger.

Jey slides the bottle onto the white surface of the pale blue counter, “I didn’t think I needed the list!”

“You clearly did!” You laugh humorlessly at the fact that you just ate partially spoiled food.

It was funny how your husband picked and chose what he wanted to remember. Granted it was pretty early when you told him this, waking him up from his snoring slumber as you pecked his cheek on your way out. Last night in bed he said he would hit the store for a few quick items you needed for the house and milk was the first thing on the list. He didn’t remember that but he knew you had a hair appointment since he insisted on paying for it, he always loved your fro and didn’t mind seeing you change it up.

He was very vocal if he didn’t like a look either, even if you were pranking him a few times with stiff wigs from Tyler Perry Amazon, which caused many more lashings from the both of you that it sometimes got personal. The both of you could take the shit talking from each other but once it actually stung just a little too much? And if it happened to occur in front of family? Oh the silent treatment was more lethal than the actual words.

“Now I see why your ass was so clenched when I came in here. You were trying to poison me, or encourage me to go vegan, my own got damn husband.” You scoffed while Jey rolled his eyes at your dramatics and that was saying a lot, since he was the number one Thespian.

He makes the noise of a buzzer, “wrong answer forehead! My fatty is too well rounded for it to be clenched. Especially if it was glute day yesterday. There’s no high booties around here and I’m highly offended that you think I would do that to you when you’re my whole heart.”

You stuck your tongue out giving him a thumbs down, “don’t try to butter me up, I’m still aggy and I’m trying to big my back, not make my stomach touch my back.”

And just like that he grins as he moves to grip the sides of your face, “I’m sorry ma, you know I always got you and already have a back up order for dinner if this didn’t turn out too well. Plus, I got something else that could feed your appetite. A appetizer if you really think about it.”

His smile turns devilish now as he moves to place his hips on yours to feel exactly what he’s serving up. You shove at his chest as he goes even further to try and kiss up your neck, “Nope, if you don’t get off me! You’re not getting none of that.”

“Why not? We got at least twenty-five minutes before option B is ready and I can make it work.” He’s chasing after you now.

You’re on the other side of the white and blue island with a shake of your head, “for one, I have no nutrients in my body and it’s really sounding like you want me to cross over to the other side.”

Jey interrupts as he stares at you in all seriousness, “never.”

Holding up fingers you continue, “Two, my laser appointment isn’t until Wednesday.”

Jey caressed his beard in thought licking his lips, “oh word, hump day? That’s even better but fuck all that we grown! Let me get you that jug of fruit water you made and then that ass is mine.”

You laughed, “you think I’m gonna just fold after you deprived me of Kopai? You really done lost your mind and it’s all KDot’s doing.”

“Nah, leave my boy out of this.”

You gasped, “That switch up is crazy.”

‘Guess we know who Jey’s shaking that ass for and it’s not just for me,’ you cackle internally before focusing back on what your husband’s response would be to picking with him. You knew better than to let that slip through your lips because you wouldn’t hear the end of it and your body was already going through it okay!

From getting your hair done and WORKING OUT!

Get your mind out of the gutter you hoes.

“I mean I didn’t say I was going to completely cut BBL—

Your eyes went wide as Jey smacked a hand over his mouth. You pointed at him and hopped up and down to prove your point.

“Be quiet.” He hissed before he made his claim, “I mean sure if im in the car I’ll bump Drake over Kendrick but he had something on his chest so some shit talking needed to be said.”

“And did.”

“Exactly but Drake’s still my guy.” He shrugged.

You shake your head as you pace the floor as if you were analyzing Jey like you were in some courtroom instead of your kitchen, “That’s just like you, taking up for the light skins.”

“Aight now you dragging it.” Jey sent a glower in your direction.

You laugh as you leaned against the counter feeling like a nap but not without facing the issue here, “so…what’s actually on the menu since you lied to me about the Kopai and then flopped the chowder.”

“It wasn’t a complete flop!” Jey argued with a deep furrow of his brows, “the flavor was on point, I just messed up with the dairy portion.”

You stated, “Goat milk would have been superior.”

“Oh hell no, wait until I tell your father about that one.” Jey’s shaking his head in disgust, goat milk was only great for a skincare routine and he could say that based on experience but far as consuming? Jey was good on that.

“Wait until I tell him that you tried to give me food poisoning.” You countered with a heated stare.

Jey deeply inhaled and sucked his teeth, “aight let’s roll before you get my blood pressure up to the point I need to be hospitalized.”

He turns the stove off and moves the pot to the side while it’s your turn to make your way over to the tatted man. You nuzzle your head into the back of shoulders while hugging him, “it’s only fair that we get on each others nerves.”

“You’re lucky I love yo ass.” He mumbles, resting a warm hand on top of your clasped ones.

“And you’re lucky I love you right back and didn’t take a bite out of your behind for depriving me of food.”

Jey scrunched up his nose at that and side eyed as he turned to face you a bit but you held his stare, letting him know that you weren’t joking. “See, I knew it in my spirit that you were one of those kids that liked to bite. I’ve seen baby pictures and that’s something I’ll have to keep in mind when we’re blessed with children.”

“Says the fighter out of the marriage.” You quirk up a brow but Jey just shrugs.

“I own my shit.”

“Whatever bro…where’s your keys?” You remove yourself from Jey to look around the kitchen while the said man follows you.

He buries his forehead against the side of your temple bumping you, “i’m not your bro so I don’t know who you think you’re talking to.”

You push him from your space, “stop playing with me, Joshua. We don’t have time for this!”

“Come correct then.”

You roll your eyes with a flick of your hair, “keys or I’ll go get my own.”

“I’m driving, I don’t need you acting like the streets are Mario kart like you probably did on your way here.” He states before he sarcastically jokes, “You’re not you when you’re hungry.”

Let’s not talk about driving skills…of course you didn’t say that but Jey could tell you were thinking it. So he steps to you, holding out his hand but kept his eyes on you until you placed yours in his. He led the way back downstairs to the front level of the home, keys already in his pocket as he locked up the front of the house before heading to the garage.

There was tension on the first five minutes of the drive but not to the point where you two knew you wouldn’t get past it. You fumbled with the radio as the wind whipped across your profile and before you both know it, you’re both singing along to music from 2018, which was reminiscent back when things were starting to heat up between you two. Back when Jey was inviting you to family barbecues and being too afraid to ask you to be his girl and making an ass out of himself to his family when they questioned what you were.

It was all trial and tribulations that led to your marriage a year later. This bickering was nothing compared to what the both of you dealt with prior. And what’s a perfect marriage?

“By the way, the new look is sexy.” Jey comments as the both of you sit in his car digging into your food.

He chose Japanese…which was satisfactory since you loved the Wagyu beef tacos here and he was tearing into the BamuBamu wings, licking his fingers and everything that you knew his mother would be slapping the back of his head if she was in the backseat.

“Thanks baby, we’ll call this look: Gaia or Alani.” You posed, hands still holding a taco.

Jey nods, “ooo, Gailani is fire! See how I just did that?”

“Hope you come up with better earthy names for our future crotch goblins.” You told him while Jey frowned at you mid-bite.

“No way you just said that.”

Shrugging you say, “I mean I don’t know how pregnancy is going to make me feel so that’s their potential nickname.”

“I mean…how would you feel if I referred you as a gremlin?” Jey questioned, not liking how you were picking on your unborn children already.

Listen to him being the sensitive parent! He cared deeply for his niece and nephew, he also didn’t play when it came to them either so he can only imagine how he would be with his own.

“…I’d blame the children you played a part of helping create. Like child like father.”

“That’s cap and not exactly how that works, that’s right, I paid attention in biology class! You’ll probably start taking it out on me, I’ll have to have doc on speed dial for tetanus shots.” Jey winked at you while you elbowed his arm, “but nah I’ll love y’all through it regardless because like it or not I’m a pretty great guy.”

You snort, “You say that now.”

“I mean it though and I know you know that. I couldn’t have picked a better person to ride through this rollercoaster of life with and the world deserves to have mini versions of us roaming the earth, plus I’m always down to get to practicing.” He winks at you while you shake your head.

“I can tell, you almost leaped over the counter to take me down.”

He pointed, “You started it by grabbing my ass and the new look isn’t helping my urges.”

“Well,” you shrugged with a smirk on your lips, “it’s definitely not happening since you like to pull hair and you didn’t buy the milk.”

“There’s a farmers market right up the street, they got to have some and then will you chill?”

“I’m chill now.” You chew with a smile as you slump into the passenger seat while Jey deeply exhales.

“Yeah, cause you’re spoiled.”

“You made me this way.”

“I know.” Jey smiles at you adoringly before shaking his head, “my own personal pain in my butt.”

“But I do appreciate the effort…although my stomach might feel different in a few hours.” You pout a little, feeling it flip just a smidge.

Jey widens his eyes at you, just hoping that didn’t happen, “nah we getting probiotics or some type of cleanse at this market, let’s go before they close. Seatbelt please.”

“I’m eating.”

The side eye he gives you makes you do so but you hold onto your taco a little tighter in the process. Driving across the street to the open parking lot that sat to the side of where the market was set up, he’s ready to hop out the car, door tossed open, without you since you were still eating but you call out to him to wait for you.

The farmers market was one of your favorite places to be, especially on a Sunday and there was no way he was going without you. He was the main one that said the both of you were always going to be by each other’s sides wherever you went. When it came to grocery shopping, Jey was the type of shopper that wanted to get in and get out. Anything else? Clothes? Cars? He could spend all day there.

Yes he was huffy as you took your time, knowing they were about to start closing up in the next fifteen minutes. You had to search his car for your gum, lipgloss, and micro wallet that you stored in here just in case you didn’t have your purse (which was sitting pretty back at home on your bed) and stole Jey’s car for the day.

“C’mon,” Jey says your name impatiently, “what’re you doing?”

“Where’s my green mini wallet I had stored on the side of the rati?” Your hands are going along the pocket of the black Maserati.

Jey answers, “that little thing? I been took that out and threw it somewhere in your drawer back at the crib. What do you need that for when you’re with me anyway? Let’s go, ma.”

Then he questions why you’re a pain in his butt!

Checking your lips once more, you get out the car dusting off any crumbs from your lap before you circle around the car to intertwine your fingers with Jey’s. You huddle closer to him as the wind is at your backs before you enter through the tarps of set up sections. He’s on a mission while your eyes are wide, trying to look at any and everything to the point he lets go of your hand to keep searching for what you’re mainly here for.

Usually it’s mostly food here but occasionally they’ll have a few clothing, accessories, and even home decor shops set up as well. It really was the best of both worlds when that happened. Jey already knew that you would search for one of those while he stayed where the food was at. He chatted with the elderly man who had his own farm about forty miles from here, got three jugs of milk: oat, goat, and coconut. Along with a nice tip before he bid his farewells then began checking for you around the sizable space.

“Hey baby,” you greet as he eventually finds you at a vendor that wasn’t selling food yet you’re holding a few fruits and fruit juices in your hands, “I got us some more papayas and pineapples. It’s already paid for since the lady took Zelle but I want to show you something else.”

You finally shift the items into the netted bag onto your other wrist as you reach out for Jey’s wrist to drag him back to a few vendors over. It was some shop that was selling antiques and he’s now standing in front of two figurines.

“Wouldn’t this be cute for the mantle above the fireplace?”

Jey glanced at you, “yeah if we wanted to be murdered in our sleep at some point.”

“Joshua!” You shushed him, “I thought they would add more color to the mantle since the fireplace is black.”

“And the marble on the bottom is white along with the rest of the furniture that’s light and the walls except for that one kitchen wall that’s a chalkboard.” The man blinks as he vividly remembers your shared home, “We don’t need anymore unnecessary stuff, especially no dolls that look like annabelle and her possessed friends.” Jey tells you while you frown as he grabs your wrist now.

You’re being dragged away while the woman laughs and sends you a wave as you attempt to persuade him one last time on one other decor piece sitting on a table, “But look, this is on sale!”

Jey mutters, “there’s a reason why majority of her items are. I know evil when i see it.”

“Not the judgement. You don’t know that lady, Josh and you need to stop watching so many scary movies lately, they’re making you so paranoid.” You sassed while you two made it back to his car.

He peeked at you before he grabbed his seatbelt, “did you see her pet possum on the leash sleeping underneath that dusty red chair?”

“Her what?!”

“Uh huh.” He nods, starting the car while going into detail about how the vendor felt off the moment you dragged him closer to it.

By the time the two of you get home, you’re heading into the master bedroom to grab your floral bonnet while Jey heads up stairs with the food. He does the clean up of the soup, finishes up his wings while you eventually make your way upstairs to eat your own food. When you meet Jey’s brown eyes across from the dining table, the both of you share a laugh at your matching low-lidded eyes. The Itis. You’re the first to move, discarding your food since Jey finished way before you and pull at his hand for him to stand.

Wrapping your arms across his shoulders before moving one hand to play with the end of his hair, he leans down to grasp your back before slipping his hands down to your ass to lift you against his hips. “That’s how it should be,” he tells you as you kiss his lips and he makes his way over to the couch.

You warn your husband, “Watch my head, we know how heavy handed you are.”

“I got it, I got it.” Jey mocks as he protects your head, laying you down first before he climbs over you to rest against the couch.

He loops an arm across your shoulders as you move around trying to get comfortable thanks to your new do. Finding that your left is less painful than your right, you face the coffee table, two living chairs, and tv instead while Jey lightly wraps his arm around your neck instead.

And you’re fine just like this, well fed and in the arms of your man ready to get a nap in until…

“I can’t find the remote.” Jey breaks the silence that makes your eyes peel open with a flare of your nostrils.

You want to fling your entire body back but your neck said different, leaving you to only side eye Jey as he sheepishly smiles at you.

“I’m actually going to kill you!” You inform him, “i said leaving the remote in the drawer of the coffee table makes it easier so we don’t have to go crazy looking for it.”

“And I may or may not have done that.” He says nonchalantly, not bothered that he was pushing a button again, “I like to leave it tucked in the cushions along with my leg in there because you know how that stupid thing likes to overheat sometimes and it’s always cold in there.”

Only Jey y’all.

Only Jey.

Once you go quiet and manage to face the brown eyed man again, you smile softly at him as you caressed his face, “that lady at the market that you were shook over, ain’t got shit on me.”

“Whatchu mean? Aye!” Jey yelled as you started to playfully ring his neck.

The only way to get you to stop was for him to slap his hand right on top of your sore head and wiggle it and what did he do that for?

“OW! Why would you—I’m done.”

You hop off the couch and circle around it but not without yanking a pillow and slamming it against Jey’s stomach, “disrespectful ass.”

“So I’m just supposed to take you son-ing me?” Jey sat up on his elbows, grunting at the attack before shoving the pillow to the floor.

You snapped over your shoulder, “I don’t know, I thought you might like that since you like your ass grabbed, although you try to deny it as much as possible.”

“What?! Now you just saying shit.”

“And you’re always doing shit!” You yell back, out of sight now and heading back downstairs.

Jey sighs as he settles back against the couch again, “Where you goin’?”

“To bed!”

“It’s 4pm.”

“Goodnight mullet! You play too much.”

Jey felt his chest bubble with some laughter but said back, “I LOVE YOU!”

“So?!”

“I SAID, I LOVE YOU!” Jey called back out but when he didn’t get any response, he jumped up to his feet and raced down the stairs just to see you laughing waiting to slam the door in his face.

Yet you were too slow, making Jey barge into the room to latch onto your body to pepper your face in kisses.

It was the little things that he did that he knew would get on your nerves (which was mutual) but ultimately you loved that man down no matter what.

Jey could say the same even if you got on his case majority of the time.

You were his everything and more.

☀︎༄·❅☘︎ ☀︎༄·❅☘︎ ☀︎༄·❅☘︎ ☀︎༄·❅☘︎ ☀︎༄·❅☘︎ ☀︎

#Spotify #queued #jey uso #jey uso x black reader #jey uso x reader #joshua fatu #Joshua fatu x reader #spring writing

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halfbakedideas · 1 year ago

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BatRules

The full list of rules the Bat Family has, for both their civilian lives and their night lives.

It gets a little out of hand. Just a little.

Key

A.P.: Alfred

B.W.: Bruce

D.G.: Dick

C.: Cass

J.T.: Jason

T.D.W/T.D.: Tim

S.B.: Steph

D.T.: Duke

D.W.: Damian

-~-~-

No tampering with any of the coffee machines. —A.P.

Master Tim is to be limited to a maximum of two shots of caffeine every 24 hours. —A.P.

‘Dealing with Damian’ is not a valid excuse to ignore the above limit. —B.W.

Only regular-strength coffee is to be kept in the Manor at any time. —B.W.

Not even after off-planet missions? —T.D.W.

‘At any time’ includes after off-planet missions, Tim. —B.W.

No speedsters and/or Kryptonians are to bring in any as an ‘emergency supply’ —B.W.

Master Bruce is banned from having any coffee at or after 12 a.m. —A.P.

Not even decaf? —B.W.

Why would you even bother drinking coffee then? —T.D.W.

Mayonnaise is not to be put on hamsters. —T.D.

Lucius has threatened to quit if it happened again and he sees it. —T.D.

Rule 11 applies to non-Family members too. —B.W.

Master Jason is not to bring any guns into the Manor. —A.P.

Not even the rubber bullets one? —J.T.

Especially not that one. —A.P.

Hugs are mandatory. —D.G.

Proposed revision: Hugs are recommended. —D.W.

Proposed revision: rejected :D — D.G.

Glitter is to be kept and used only in designated areas. —A.P.

The ballroom is not a designated area. —A.P.

Neither is the kitchen. —A.P.

Vigilante uniforms are not to be worn nor taken into the Manor. —A.P.

I am not allergic to emotions. —B.W.

Proposed revision: Bruce is allergic to emotions. —J.T.

Proposed revision: rejected. —B.W.

Nor am I emotionally constipated. —B.W.

Green hair dye is banned from the Manor. —D.G.

In all shades but especially neon. —D.G.

Excluding Bruce, attendance at galas isn’t mandatory. —C.

Except for the annual Wayne Foundation one, attendance at that one is mandatory for everyone. —B.W.

For every missed gala, you must make one (1) public appearance in that same month. —B.W.

A ‘public appearance’ does not include a trip to Walmart. —B.W.

No more murder attempts, Damian —T.D.W.

Proposed revision: Murder attempts are allowed on Drake. —D.W.

Proposed revision: rejected. —T.D.W.

No poison is to be put in hot chocolate. —A.P.

Why does that even have to be a rule?? —D.T.

Dick is to be kept away from any and all redheads. —J.T.

Including the one that he is currently dating. —D.W.

Whenever I ask any of you to bring me one of the spare Batsuits, I never mean the rainbow one. —B.W,

It’s Vigilante Bingo not Trauma Bingo. Stop being so concerning. —D.T.

If you’re up before 8 a.m. and you wake someone else up, you have to take their worst patrol shift. —T.D.W.

Only Alfred and Jason are allowed to actually make anything in the kitchen. —B.W.

Shower as soon as you get back from patrol. —A.P.

Just because you got cuddle pollen’d, doesn’t mean the whole family needs to be. —S.B.

Richard is not allowed to pick the movie for Movie Night. —D.W.

Unless Movie Night falls on the 29th night of February. —D.W.

Everyone has to clean their own rooms, do not make Alfred do it. He already has enough to do —B.W.

No going into each other's rooms without permission or a valid reason. —B.W.

‘For a prank war’ is not a valid reason. —B.W.

Rule 50 especially applies when the person is sleeping, Damian. —T.D.W.

A minimum of three people have to go with Alfred to do the grocery shopping. —B.W.

The BatComputer is multi-million dollar equipment and is not to be used to watch movies. —B.W.

No tie-dying your siblings, or their clothing, three hours before a gala. —B.W.

No using books as balance beams. —J.T.

Looking at you, Dick. —J.T.

No going to Jason for help with math; you must come to me. —D.G.

Ladies do not start prank wars, but they can finish them. —S.B.

So beware :) —C.

Stop doing monumental things in the hallway because I don't need to see that. —D.T.

Remember: I have POWERS. —D.T.

No stealing Damian's art supplies. —D.W.

If you do, I will disembowel you. —D.W.

Master Damian, no disembowelling your siblings. —A.P.

Cookies are to be eaten before dinner ^-^ —C.

Cookies are not to be eaten before dinner, unless one is recovering from a life-threatening injury. —A.P.

Does that mean I can eat cookies before dinner since I lost my spleen? —T.D.

YOU LOST YOUR SPLEEN????????? D: D: D: D: D: D: D: D: —D.G.

Seconding. —S.B.

Thirding ^-^ —C.

Tt, of course, you have lost a major organ and failed to tell anyone. —D.W.

I will disembowel more of you if you touch my art supplies. —D.W.

Damian, you can't take more of Tim’s organs. He can't regrow them. —B.W.

He can if it's his liver —J.T.

Damian, you should take out part of Tim's liver so he can regrow it and then sell it on the black market and get rich. —S.B.

He's already rich, though. *raised eyebrow* —D.G.

Then he’ll get richer. —S.B.

Are we all just ignoring how Tim doesn't have a spleen now? —D.T.

That's how things work here. —J.T.

Bedtime for anyone under 16 is 10 p.m. on non-patrol nights; and 2 a.m. on patrol nights. —B.W.

12? —D.W.

10. —B.W.

11? —D.W.

10.30. That’s final. Or you have to take Condiment King next time he makes trouble. —B.W.

Tt. Fine. I will accept 10.30 p.m. —D.W.

Toasters are not to be taken out of the kitchen. —A.P.

‘For science’ is not a good nor valid reason, Master Tim. —A.P.

No dye is to be put into the pool. —B.W.

Just because we have the money to replace the tiles afterwards, doesn’t mean you should do it. —B.W.

No climbing on the Tyrannosaurus rex statue in the Cave. —D.W.

Pizza-store pizza is only to be brought into the Cave under specific circumstances. —A.P.

If pizza-store pizza has to be brought into the Cave, please use a napkin. —A.P.

#batfam #fanfiction #tim drake #batfamily #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #jason todd #bruce wayne #stephanie brown #cass cain #duke thomas #crossposted on ao3 #ao3 fanfic #hbi fics

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presidentlokis-hornyhelmet · 2 years ago

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Holding On

Pairing: Pavitr Prabhakar x gn!reader Summary: You had been his first -first friend, first crush, first kiss, first person to know his alter-ego.. You had been his everything and he lost you. Warnings: Major Character Death, Depression, Grief/Mourning, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Angst, Jealousy (pt 2 to "Six Feet's Never Felt So Far" but can be read as a standalone too)

Also read on ao3

🎶🎵 I'm still holding on to everything that's dead and gone Here I am alone, between the heavens and the embers 🎶🎵 In The Stars by Benson Boone

Pavitr clutched your photo tightly in his hands and hugged it to his chest, tears streaming down his face as he stared blankly at the ceiling. The sound of the fan was the only indicator of life in the room. His eyes caught on it's dizzying rotation, face stoic and expressionless. His heart wasn't broken, it was ripped out of his chest and burnt right before his eyes.

It'd been six months, but to Pavitr, Y/n's death felt like only yesterday.

Pavitr had refused to believe your were gone. He even went about seeming unaffected or "moved on" but in reality, it was just denial. Deny, deny and keep denying. Until the 13th day ritual of Preta Karma -a ceremony where rites are performed in honour of the late family member and prayers are done.

He broke down, refusing to attend the ceremony. He was only invited as Y/n's best friend as their relationship had been a secret -known to none else except Gayatri- which hurt even more.

And, in the months that followed, Pavitr had refused to leave his room unless it was for school or superheroing, grieving and mourning your love in silence.

He tried to distract himself with Spider-Man-ing through Mumbattan, as Gayatri suggested, but ultimately failed. It felt like a chore now that you were gone.

"Y/n will always be with us in spirit, Pavi. What would N/n think if they saw you like this? You know, they would want you to be happy.. not, not destroy yourself."

It was true what Gayatri had said, Pavitr was destorying himself mentally and physically by skipping meals or over eating, playing Benson Boone's In The Stars in an endless loop as he laid on his bed and stared at the ceiling passively.

You had been the light in his darkness after the death of Uncle Bhim. Back then he dealt his uncle's death the same way: starvation, overeating, locking himself in his room and refusing to interact.

It was you who reached through the dark web he'd woven around himself and pulled him out, helped him through his guilt and depression.

"How long are you going to stay like this, lying in your room and staring at the fan?"

He moved not a muscle, but you knew he was listening.

"You know, Pavu, uncle Bhim would hate to see you this way."

Still no reply. You sighed and combed your fingers through his hair, pulling his hair in a soothing motion. He turned his face in your lap, eyes sore and dry as dull brown orbs greeted yours. His face was blank and devoid of emotion as if he lost the will to live.

This won't do.

This boy had to get up and move on; even Maya aunty was concerned. She had accepted her husband's death and come to terms a while later, but Pavitr stubbornly refused to let go.

You caught his gaze, gently leaning into him. When he made no notion to move, you pressed your lips to his, kissing him softly.

Pavitr was slow to realize you were kissing him but when he eventually caught it, he reciprocated fervently.

You pulled away, breathing hard. His eyes opened slowly, watching you with dilated pupils.

"You... kissed me."

"Yeah..", you blushed slightly, "I.. I hated seeing you down in the dumps.. you really need to move on, Pavu. Bhim uncle wouldn't want you to look so sad."

"You kissed me."

"Yeah, I did- but, please, don't think I'm taking advantage of you", you add quickly.

He knows you didn't; he knows you better than he knows himself.

"Pavu, you need to get up and get back. I'm not asking you to become the Old Pavitr, but I want you to accept Uncle Bhim's death and move on. I know it's hard, but promise me you'll try."

The fact you were crushing on him went over his head at that moment, but he had plenty of time to realize it later.

Though his smile didn't fully reach his eyes, you were content with any reaction other than blankness. Baby steps.

"I will try, N/n." For you.

You hardly expected the drastic change. Pavitr got up early the next day, showered, did laundry, recited prayer and left the room. When you came to check on him later, you found him doing chores around the house, his room spick and span. Uncle Bhim's photo on the wall was neatly adorned with flowers and incense sticks, to your delight. Maya aunty was so happy and silently thanked you.

He kept his long hair as you suggested, as a sign of growth and to never forget what the past taught him. For Bhim Uncle.

It was the first ever you saw him smile after Uncle Bhim's demise. And, maybe you didn't know, but it was because of you: his sun.

Pavitr rolled over on the bed, clutching the framed photo to his chest and stared at your bright orbs in the picture. It was taken on his birthday last year.

You had begun to spend more time with Hari Oberoi recently and it was nagging Pavitr. He knew you guys were just as much as friends as he and Hari were, and he knew you only had platonic feelings for him, but jealousy reared it's ugly head.

It's been a week and you have refused to spend more than fifteen minutes alone with him and he was getting increasingly anxious.

Did you not like him anymore? Did you suddenly realize you have feelings for Hari? Are you going to break up with him? Is that why you won't hang out with him anymore, to let him down gently?

A million questions plaguing his mind and everytime he saw Hari with his arm around you, he felt lost, betrayed and jealous. Hari was stealing you from him.

"Who are you texting, Y/n?", he asked the next time you met, eating pani puri from a street vendor.

Had you been aware, you would've noticed him not calling you the usual nickname.

"No one."

His heart broke into peices, because isn't that what you say when you're seeing some one else?

He was just about to ask you the same when you stood up from your table and paid for your snack, asking him to meet you later that evening on your usual spot before disappearing into the crowd.

It was confirmed. You were breaking up.

The whole afternoon, Pavitr talked to himself on the different ways he'd convince you, eventually giving up and deciding to just accept it.

It was half-past the time you had agreed to meet when Pavitr got dressed and put on somewhat decent clothes. He opened the door of his room, sad and hopeless, only to be greeted by Hari holding a giant cake. Maya aunty, you and Gayatri were standing beside him, popping confetti on him as he stepped outside.

Oh, heck. He'd completely forgotten.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LOSER!", you all yell as Maya aunty shot you a playfully disapproving look.

You collide onto him in an embrace, subtly kissing his cheek as you whisper in his ear. "Happy birthday, baby."

He hugged you tightly as Hari and Gayatri joined in, Maya aunty flashing pics as his face was smeared in cream.

He wasn't losing you, after all!

Pavitr's nails dug into the frame and it breaks under his spider strength. Tears rush down his cheeks on their own as he cries harder, gritting his teeth in guilt and kicking himself.

You had been his first -first friend, first crush, first kiss, first person to know his alter-ego.. and the first to make him question his existence.

You had been his everything and he lost you.

________

Hope you liked it! :)) reblogs and comments feed my fic dragon uwu

#pavitr my beloved #pavitr prabhakar #pavitr x you #pavitr x reader #spiderverse #pavitr prabhakar x reader #pavitr prabhakar x you

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xuchiya · 4 months ago

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"Aughost!" || choi jongho || part.one

| genre: ghost! jongho. slice of life. angst. | mentions: death. past life. | [final] part two this is to make up for you guys and for the chapters for my mini-series of Hongjoong (GO CHECK IT OUT "DIFFERENT [LOVE] LANGAUGE). I am a little busy with the other chapters and I have to re-write some of them since I plan of uploading them all of at once.

“— please I do not judge— but yeah you match the “match” of this ajumma that helps me that could help me in going back to my body. I’m Jongho, by the way.”

“WHAT THE FU—!”

Your mom used to say something about the gates of Hell opening in the month of August. She spoke with mere belief, yet there was a fear in her eyes that intrigued you—an unusual thing to see in someone as strong as her. She mentioned how evil spirits gained more power during this time, able to possess people and haunt them however they pleased.

You were far from believing such superstitions; they never seemed to match well with coincidence, yet they managed to trick so many people. After reading a book about your family's history, you noticed how most of your grandmothers had written down all their superstitions, and this "Aughost" was one of the oldest. It was a huge belief of your greatest grandmother that August was when the Gates of Hell opened, making spirits more powerful. That's why none of your family had birthdays in August. No one—except for you.

Most of your family members became overprotective of you, especially when this month arrived. Your birthday was celebrated in such a close-knit manner that you started to think it would just be you blowing out a single candle.

That was until your entire family disagreed with such simplicity and insisted on a proper gathering, though it was always within the safe confines of your parents' house. You rolled your eyes when your aunt handed you a candle, winking at you.

At least one person didn’t believe in such superstition. That person was your aunt, who had been somewhat cast out by the rest of the family for her rebellious outlook, despite what they called the "bad luck of luck" that came with being born in August. She wasn't the only one who celebrated a birthday this month, but she did have it the hardest, being born on August fourth—considered an unlucky number in your family—being a part of her life in more ways than one. Yet, she turned out to be happier in her life.

As the night wore on, your family continued to chatter happily about whatever news they’d heard, the sound of their voices filling the house. The clock near midnight, and as it inched closer to twelve, everyone began to realize your birthday was almost over. One by one, they started saying their goodbyes. There were hugs, warm words, and a few last-minute gifts handed your way. Each person thanked your parents for the party, wished you well, and offered some kind of reassurance about the month ahead.

Finally, the house grew quiet. The rooms that had been filled with laughter and conversation now only echoed with distant footsteps and the gentle closing of doors. You climbed the stairs, hearing the last goodnights from downstairs.

In your room, you pulled out your cake from the mini-fridge, a small, simple chocolate cake with a single candle. Like mentioned, they do not want to grab attention from the said evil spirits that might lurk inside the house and stay with you for the rest of your lifetime. The clock ticked softly in the background, the long hand inching toward twelve again, but this time it was nearing three o’clock in the afternoon. You stuck the candle into the cake, the room now bathed in soft darkness.

“No one’s gonna know,” you whispered, placing your palms together. The room enveloped you in stillness, the flickering candle casting shadows that danced around you, as if the spirits themselves were watching. As you wish inside your head before blowing your candle at the same time, the long hand finally met the small one in the middle.

Your clock made a soft ding, you chuckle putting your cake away. Shaking your head, “Nothing happened.” You walk back towards your bed, tucking yourself in before endless dreams consume you.

The next day, your mom talked to you about her rules for keeping bad spirits at bay. You tilted your head in curiosity, tucking your legs underneath your hips as she pulled out a small book titled Aughost. You chuckled at the title, and she did too, flipping through the pages.

"Don't laugh at it," she said, trying to sound stern but with a smile tugging at her lips. "Your great-great-grandma thought it through so thoroughly." She exaggerated the 'so,' and you couldn't help but laugh again.

"Okay, here’s the list. As much as possible, never do any of these at night." You frowned, leaning over the makeshift coffee table. She shrugged. "I’m not entirely sure why, but it must have scared your great-great-grandma a lot."

You looked at the writing: Follow these three steps to keep bad spirits and demons out of your home.

“First,” she read, “you should never hang up your laundry at night. I know it sounds strange, but the smell of your scent is still fresh, and it could literally lure in those spirits.” You nodded.

The past few weeks have been exhausting. Your boss was relentless, demanding reports on rates, sales, and everything else yesterday, throwing your department into chaos as everyone rushed to meet deadlines.

By the time you got home, you were drained. You sighed, tossing your bag on the couch, then headed to the fridge for a water bottle. Collapsing back on the couch, you let out another deep sigh.

“I cooked last night, so dinner’s sorted. Water the plants… take out the trash… Oh, crap, I forgot the laundry!” You jumped up, rushing to the laundry room. You dumped the dirty clothes onto the floor and threw the clean ones in the machine. You quickly opened the window and started hanging the clothes to dry outside.

When you were done, you tidied up, changed into pajamas, and settled down to eat while watching an old movie—your comfort zone. “Yes, Mama, I’ve eaten dinner,” you said later, juggling your dinner and a Facetime call with your mom. “I’m just finishing up the last report for my boss. We have a board meeting tomorrow, and Ms. Kang wants me there in case Hongjoong can’t make it because of his winter cold.”

As you typed on your laptop, you suddenly heard one of your windows slam shut, startling you. Your mom noticed your flinch and leaned closer to the screen. "What was that?"

You looked at the closed window, then went over to prop it open again. “It’s just the wind, Mama. It’s pretty gusty even with the chilly weather.”

Her eyebrows knitted together. "Why do you have your window open at night? You never know when a burglar might come in and cause havoc!" You chuckled, giving her a playful look. “Mom, I live in the middle of the building. Who's going to climb up here?”

“Aigo, talking back to your mother now? What if something happens to you? You’re thousands of miles away! What if—”

Before she could finish, your father’s face appeared on the screen, gently pushing her aside. “Hey, my lovely flower, how are you?”

“I’m doing great, Papa. Did you get your maintenance done?” You heard him shush your mom as she continued fretting about your safety. He rolled his eyes with a raised eyebrow. “Honey, she lives in the middle of the building. How would that even work?”

“They could use ropes like in the movies!” she insisted.

You laughed loudly, unable to take her anxiety seriously. You adored your mom and her overprotectiveness, always listening to her concerns, but you knew when to brush them off. Your dad often reminded you that it was just her anxiety talking, and there was no need to worry too much.

You chuckle loudly, not being able to take your mother’s eeriness seriously. You adore her and her overprotectiveness, you also always listen to her concerns and such but to this point, you always brush it off as your father always updates you that it is because of her anxiety that speaks and that you have nothing to think much more about.

As you speak to your father, a sliver yet translucent hand hovers the window of your room before vanishing like glitter being blown off from the hands into the winter of the night.

“Second,” she looks at you then back to the book, “Do not whistle at night.”

You bid the cafe owner a soft thank you as you push the door open to exit with your paper bag full of bread. The cafe is different as it is called a ‘midnight cafe’ almost similar to a convenience store but sells bread and biscuits and other pastries instead. The owner is a friend of your neighbor, somehow meeting them whenever you come home and crossing paths with them on the street as they close.

“Here baby … I’m here, mommy’s here.” You heard a cry of a mother, though by the looks of it, it is someone around your age or older or younger but nevertheless, they were crouching down as if looking for something. Perhaps, a pet if it's that low of a posture if finding a child. You walked past her though, you felt a grip on your elbow and the face of a woman came into your view.

Her eyes were shaking, red with tears in the corner already giving away with her wet eyelashes— her pet must have been missing for almost an hour. With your other arm being preoccupied with the paperbag of pastries, “Have you seen a black cat? He has a sharp pointy ear and white tail on the end of their tail?”

You felt your stomach falling as her eyes were brimmed with tears as her eyes swell with tears again and a small intake of air— her heart must be breaking and hope falling as she sat down on the sidewalk, hands on her face as she cried. You start to worry and gain a little bit of lookers as they hear her softly sobbing.

You retreated a little bit before entering your apartment. You know deep down looking for a black cat at this time is like looking for a needle inside the hay, although this could be a little helpful as they could respond to the voice of their owner.

But seeing the situation, it must have focused on something that tunes out the voice of their owner.

Placing down your paper bag, you open the window of your living room and turn on the television as a background noise while you create dinner. You were patient with stirring when the television suddenly glitches then switching to the news channel about an idol being in a critical condition, almost showing no recovery. You frowned, turning around.

“—The doctors have spoken about showing heart rate increase as a sign of recovery. They spoke about the patient having the normal rate for the past year and half that today, marks a new sign for them and hope. This is Rachel Lee, reporting from JYP entertainment.”

You shake your head, not really knowing about the issue nevertheless anything with the life of celebrities. They may have the talents but the job is considering the whole life aspect draining. You find it amusing yet concerning as this really took toll on most idols who live, including this one although it is more in nature accident. You hear about this idol and their group travelling back from their shoot and rain came pouring down, pulling on a pit stop until a delivery eight-trailer truck pulled up behind them and crashed on them.

Four of them were severely injured although being able to recover a year later except for one of their members. They have been unresponsive. Never made a sign.

“Meow” Your ears perked up as you ate the dish you made. You look over the small counter towards the view of your living room, your television is on a drama not a cat show unless there was but it is in an intense fighting scene.

“Meow.” You stood up, placing your spoon down as you navigate your living room. You looked under the couch, the coffee table, behind the plants and the television until you heard a small ‘mew’ near the window and you were met with a feline. It’s head peeking from above. Your eyes widen, staring at the cat before hurriedly walking towards the window and poking your head out to examine it better.

It is indeed a cat, a black one. It seems to be resting on the small space above your window. You frown, looking around to look for an open window but you see none, your eyes return to the cat who had his head tilted to the side, curious about you. You notice the tail wagging side to side, almost noticing the color at the end of the tail.

You tried to lure in the cat, pursuing your lips together to make a small pitch kissing sound to call but the cat only meowed. You were growing anxious as it rested comfortably on top though it could still be caught by the small terrace but it is still not safe.

Pursuing your lips again, a small whistle came out of your lips and the cat jolted up and meows before jumping down on your open arms, “Oh my gosh! You're scared!”

You walk back inside your living room not being able to comprehend a presence nearing you, reaching out for you— fingers grazing on your back but you were so focused on the cat in your arm.

“... help me.”

“And last,” you look at your mother, “there’s only three?” She nodded.

“Yes, they said that humans tend to be easy to lure.” You nodded, glancing at the book again to check what is the last on the list, “Okay, the last is do not pick up any lost coins you find in the streets or anywhere.”

You had just clocked out of work, waving at your co-workers as you headed toward the bus station. The bus arrived on time, and you thought it would be a smooth ride home until you found yourself stuck behind an elderly grandfather at the tap card machine. His card balance was low, and he fumbled with his wallet, pulling out a handful of coins to pay.

It took a while making the driver grumble impatiently, the elderly was pressured, and just as he was almost done, one of the coins slipped from his hands and rolled outside, coming to a stop against a bench on the sidewalk.

“Hey ajussi, if you’re gonna count more might as well wait for the next bus.” You frowned, not liking the attitude.You finally stepped forward and offered to pay for the grandfather, handing the driver the fare with as much as a polite nod before guiding the elderly on the seats. He thanks you for being patient and tries to pay for your fee but you decline his offer and keep it instead, for his grandson.

Later, as you walked back to your apartment, you noticed a coin glinting on the pavement—a won. You hesitated, tempted to pick it up and add it to your coin jar, which you’d been slowly filling to the brim, planning to cash it in someday. You bite your lip, tempted before you stomp towards it and pick it up and cheer softly.

As you walk towards your apartment room, you notice how the hallways become longer and colder. Unlike whenever you pass down here it is lively with the sunset color of the side lamps. Your pace slowed when you were nearing your room. You only now realized how the temperature seems to drop just in front of your room.

Your hand hovers the knob, it is almost like it's biting on your skin and you move to twist it and enter your room. It is not out of exaggeration when you feel a shiver run down your spine when you step inside. You pulled your coat tighter around you as you placed down your bag and turned on the heater, although with it running it still felt cold.

That is until you felt something staring at you from the corner of your living room. It felt as if someone was standing, staring at your every move. You felt all of the hair on your body standing up as you stared at the lurking figure on the corner. Your irises shrunk, your entire skin was now shaking and your insides were churning as you do notice it is moving.

Towards you.

You were frozen, in fear. You watch it in fear as it nears you and actually stops a few feet away from you. When the moonlight finds an angle and shone your dark apartment room, you are met, instead of a horrifying face, you are met with an actual human face.

A familiar face.

“Hi, sorry for intruding in your home, it’s really been hard for me to find people nowadays that still have this what they call a third eye and somehow I stumble upon you. At first I thought you were just a normal person— please I do not judge— but yeah you match the match of this ajumma that helps me that could help me in going back to my body. I’m Jongho, by the way.”

“WHAT THE FU—!”

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez fanfiction #ateez angst #ateez atiny #ateez au #ateez jongho #atz #ateez choi jongho #choi jongho #choi jongho x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

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aita for being bitter at my family for keeping their dog that doesn't like me, and for being glad when they had to get rid of the dog?

so i (adult m) live in a small 3bed/2bath home with my family: mom (f40s), dad (m40s), nana (f60s), and my sisters (f17, f12). i was homeless for a while and moved in with them in dec 2019/jan 2020. they had two dogs that they loved for a long time, both dogs had passed years before i moved in. from what i've heard, the dogs were beloved members of the family and their deaths, while expected (because of old age and health issues), were devastating.

our house is small, but i don't really have an issue with that. i spend nearly 100% of my time inside the house because of a surgery i had a while back, and i'm content to nap and watch TV and socialize with my family all day. i require a lot of care and special attention and i'm unable to hold a job (would rather not go into detail), and while occasionally my family will leave me home by myself for a few days for a vacation, this is pretty rare and i'm overall satisfied with the care they are able to provide me. i'd say my life is pretty good.

or it was.

in the last couple of years it has been increasingly obvious that my family (with the exception of my nana) miss having a dog around. they would occasionally talk about a dog up for adoption they saw online, or a friend who was having puppies and how it would be so cool to get a puppy, or looking at videos of dogs and reminiscing about their old dogs and talking about how nice it would be to get a dog. this didn't bother me in and of itself, because it had been happening for a while and they never actually followed through.

... until early last month, when they came home with a dog. this came from out of nowhere (they stopped on the way home from the shelter to buy dog supplies, like food and bowls, toys, etc). no one had told me about this or asked me what i thought, so i was surprised and confused when they brought a strange dog into the home. according to them, they are "fostering" this dog for a few months while she undergoes treatment for a health condition (after which she will be eligible for adoption), but her behavior towards me has erased any sympathy i might have felt for her.

this dog is big (she's almost certainly stronger than i am), unruly, untrained, and she does not like me. i've been avoiding her because her extreme level of energy unnerves me, but every time she sees me she growls at me and tries to lunge or snap at me like i'm the one invading her territory and not the other way around. i have voiced my fears and my strong dislike at having this dog in the house, but i don't think my family really understands what i'm saying.

after a few days, it became clear that allowing the both of us to be in the same room would lead to injury. this was further cemented after an incident where i was sitting on the couch with my mom and my sister came in from walking the dog and the dog lunged at me and i accidentally gave my mom a minor injury in my panic. so my family has decided that the best course of action, until they have time to condition her to my presence, is for me to stay in my room indefinitely.

practically, the space is big enough for me—i don't need much, and i'm not super physically active, the only thing i can't do in here that i can do in the common areas is watch tv—but it's frustrating being confined to a single room in my own home, where i've lived for years, while this dog is granted open access to the rest of the house. my family promised it would be temporary, that they just have to work on training her and correcting her behavior and getting her comfortable with me, but the longer this has dragged on the more i have been forced to accept that this is my life now.

at the end of last month, my sibling (nby20, lived with us until starting college in 2021) came down from their university town to stay with us for a few days for their birthday. during their visit, they spent some time in my room with me, hanging out and empathizing with my situation. they said some things that made me feel more validated in my discomfort over this whole situation.

the week after they went back home, the dog started acting aggressively toward my nana, especially when my nana got close to one of my sisters. it got to the point where my family had to lock her in her crate to keep her from attacking my nana, and even then she would bark and growl at my nana. so my family made the (very difficult for them) decision to stop fostering the dog and return her to the shelter. since she was returned, i have regained my access to the rest of the house.

while i am not stoked about my nana being attacked, i am relieved that the dog is gone and i am no longer a prisoner in my own home. along with this relief are feelings of bitterness—the dog acted aggressively toward me on numerous occasions, but as soon as she displayed that behavior toward my nana, they got rid of her. after the conversation with my oldest sibling, who offered an outside perspective, i have been feeling slighted and as if my comfort was a secondary concern to my family.

my parents and sisters, meanwhile, are devastated by this recent turn of events. they had all grown very attached to the dog (apparently she could be very sweet and loving when she wasn't aggressive), and they had fallen in love with her quirks and the amount of excitement she brought into the home. my parents had spent good money spoiling her with toys and treats that cannot be used now. my sisters, being younger, are especially devastated—my youngest sister has always felt things very deeply and openly, and seeing her this sad is heartbreaking. i've been trying to comfort my family as best i can, but i feel like my presence alone is just another reminder that the dog is gone.

though i acknowledge their attachment to the dog and their sadness at having to give her up, these feelings of bitterness and resentment—that her attacking me wasn't a "good enough" reason to get rid of her—remain. i am also having trouble tampering my relief and excitement at once again being allowed access to the tvs and the common areas. am i an asshole for having these feelings when my family loved this dog and are still upset at having to get rid of her?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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hoffmanxfurthermore · 7 months ago

Text

Greatest Almost

(Paul Blankenship X reader)

Movie: Falling For You (1995)

Content: mentions of death/murder of family member, drinking, vomiting, stranger hook up, implied murder, afab reader, cussing, p in v sex, smut.

Word count: 2.1k

It's the middle of the night, on your way home from the bar. It's the same routine every night, ever since your sister died.

It'd been months since she was murdered, thrown from a window of an apartment building. You felt somewhat responsible. You were supposed to be visiting her that night, but you simply just forgot. The police never caught the guy who did it. But you were pretty sure it was the man she'd been seeing secretly. She never introduced you to him, but only told you about him.

She was your only family, your only support system. You're lost without her. You drink to cope with losing her. Every night. Having taken a cab to a part of town you'd never been to before, you don't know your way around. And, of course, you pull your phone out of your purse only to discover that it is dead. Sighing in defeat, you lean against the wall of a building and close your eyes, the cool misty rain wetting your face combined with your tears.

"Do you need some help?" You hear a voice as a man approaches you. Tall, thin, his brown hair dampened by the rain, parted in the middle. The soft light from the street lamps brings out the blue in his eyes as he walks towards you.

"I'm... lost..." You sob, too drunk to care about giving your emotions. He looks at you with a sympathetic look as you slide down the wall onto the wet sidewalk, apathetic to the fact that you're sitting in a puddle. The air isn't too cold, but cold enough to make you shiver slightly. You pull your jacket closed, lowering your face.

"My name is Paul. Paul Blankenship. Let me help you." He reaches a hand out. You lean forward to take his hand, but dizziness takes over as you heave, and the contents of your stomach spill out onto the sidewalk as well as your legs. Like your best friend at some college party, he holds your hair back as you vomit. A feeling of relief from the cold washed over you as your legs become warm from the liquid on them.

After the last bit of it is gone, you fall onto your side, wavering in and out of consciousness.

You vaguely remember him gently picking you up off the ground before you're out completely.

The next morning, you wake up in an unfamiliar room on a bed. A tall glass of water, a bottle of Gatorade, and a bottle of ibuprofen reside on the bedside table next to you. The clock on the wall reads 9:32am. You feel like complete shit with the worst hangover you've had in years. Sitting up, you chug the water quickly. Your head is pounding so hard that you're almost praying for death just to relieve the pain.

Sunlight peeks out around the blackout curtains that dress the windows. A small night light illuminates the room in a warm light. You're still wearing last night's clothes, but the vomit on your pant legs seems to have been wiped away. The room is a bit chilly, but sweat mats your hair to your forehead.

As you wake up a little bit, the door to the room opens, and the man from last night slowly enters, holding a small plate in one hand and some clothes in the other.

"You're awake," he observes, "how do you feel? I meant to leave this next to you, but I made you some plain toast to sooth your stomach. You looked rough last night."

"Where am i?" You ask, slightly nervous.

"I brought you back to my place. This is my guest room. Don't worry, I didn't do anything except clean you off a little bit." He sets the plate down next to you, smiling. "I brought you some clean clothes, too. I can wash the ones you're wearing. You can have a shower if you'd like," he points to the bathroom just off of the bedroom.

Picking up a piece of toast, you nibble on it as your gaze meets his. His hair looks silky smooth, and he has the most beautiful blue eyes you've ever seen, slightly hidden behind the glasses that rest upon his face.

"Thank you," you manage weakly as you pull yourself to your feet. Paul extends his hand to help you and make sure you can stand.

"I'll leave so you can change," he smiles at you as he leaves the room. Slowly peeling your clothes off, you examine your body in the mirror to make sure he is true to his word and didn't touch you. Nothing seems amiss, and you aren't in any pain besides your throbbing headache.

After you've showered and changed, you make your way down the hallway to the living room. Paul is sitting on the couch, flipping through TV channels, but he stands once he sees you. You hand him your clothes, and he walks into another room. A few moments later, you hear the washing machine filling up with water as he walks back where you've planted yourself on the couch.

"I saw you at the bar. You could barely walk. I wanted to make sure you're safe," he says, sitting next to you. Your cheeks flush red with embarrassment. He must see you as some girl who just drinks too much and doesn't know when to cut herself off. You close your eyes in shame.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he tells you.

His caring demeanor seemed to help you open up, and before you knew it, you were telling him everything, spilling your entire heart out to a complete stranger.

"I'm sorry, I'm not trying to trauma dump all over you," you look away, "you're a stranger. I don't know you."

"It's okay," he reassures you, "I know you don't know me, and you probably don't like me. But you need a safe person, and I am that person. Whether or not you want to believe me. I can take you home if you want."

You feel a strange attraction to him. You're not usually into guys you'd just met, but there is something.... different about him.

"You don't want to go home, do you?" He inches closer to you on the couch.

"No..." You confess, moving closer to him. Before you know it, his hand is in your hair, his lips pressed against yours. You lean into the kiss as excitement fills your body. The slight scent of peppermint lingers on your lips as he slowly pulls back, scanning your face for any sign of hesitation or denial.

"How are you feeling?" He asks.

"A lot better now."

Leaning in for another kiss, his hand slips under your shirt, and he pauses. You don't try to stop him, so he moves again, cupping your left breast lightly as his soft lips make contact with your neck.

Arousal sparks between your thighs as his teeth nip the skin of your neck lightly. A small moan escapes your lips. Paul accepts that as an encouragement to keep going as he slowly lifts your shirt over your head.

This man is a total stranger. You know nothing about him at all. But in the heat of the moment, all you want is him. Intoxicated by his touch alone, his lips on your skin sending shockwaves coursing through your veins, you can only imagine how it'll feel when things progress.

The rest of your clothes fall off of you like water, and within seconds, you're wearing nothing but your skin as his tongue lightly traces over your collarbone. The light contact sends shivers down your body as his fingertips graze your thigh. You arch your back off the couch slightly, offering yourself to his touch.

Paul wastes no time, reaching out to pull you onto his lap. His hands roam over your body, slipping up your torso to cup your breasts. You moan, arching into his touch as his thumbs rub over your already hard nipples.

"You feel so good," he whispers, his hot breath fanning your neck as he nuzzles your sensitive skin. You lace your fingers through his soft brown hair, holding him against you as his lips leave a trail of fire along your jawline, shivers running down your spine.

You tilt your head back, exposing your neck to him as his lips continue their descent.

"You taste even better," he groans, his voice hoarse with desire. You feel his erection pressing into you, hard and insistent, and you grind your hips down against him, needing to feel him inside you. You lift your hips, allowing him a better look at your bare body.

"You're gorgeous," he growls, his eyes dark with desire. "I want to feel you."

Paul's words send shocks of desire right between your legs, your body throbbing with need. Lifting yourself up, you reach down to grasp the waistband of his grey sweatpants. With a quick tug, you pull them down, releasing his hard length. Paul kicks them off and then urges you to straddle him. You lower herself onto his thick cock, feeling your pussy stretch to accommodate him.

Throwing your head back, a moan escapes lips as he fills you completely. Paul groans, his eyes sliding shut as he relishes the feeling of being encased in your warm, tight pussy. You begin to move, lifting yourself up and then sinking back down, impaling yourself on his shaft.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Paul mutters, his eyes glued to where your bodies are joined. He reaches up, rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers as you set a steady rhythm riding him. You lean forward, bracing your hands on his warm chest as you increase your pace.

"I want you," you gasp, your breath coming in hot gasps, "I need you to make me cum."

Paul smiles, his blue eyes filled with lust.

"I aim to please," he promises, reaching between your bodies to rub your swollen clit in slow, soft circles.

Crying out in pleasure, your body tightens as the coil of tension inside of you snaps.

"Fuck... Paul!" You shout, your pussy clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.

Paul holds your hips, continuing to thrust up into you as your orgasm washes through you.

"Come on, baby, let go," he urges, his voice hoarse with his own need.

Collapsing against him, your sweaty body shakes as your orgasm slowly fades out. Paul rolls you so you're laying on the couch, him on top, never breaking your connection. He begins to move, thrusting into you deeply. You wrap your legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts with your own.

"That's it, take it all," he growls, his eyes locked into yours as he pounds into you, "You're so tight, so fucking wet."

You moan loudly as you dig your nails into his shoulders as he hits your g-spot over and over.

"Oh, God, right there," you whine, your body building towards another climax, "I'm going to cum again!"

"That's it, baby, cum on my fucking cock" Paul encourages you, his own orgasm building. You cry out, your pussy tightening around his girth as you cum again, your slick juices flowing around him.

Paul groans, his body tensing as he approaches his own release.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he warns, his thrusts becoming more erratic and spontaneous.

Feeling his cock pulse as his warm cum spills inside you, your own body trembles with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You lie like that for several moments, both of your breath slowly returning to normal as you savor the feeling of your joined bodies.

Finally, Paul kisses you softly, withdrawing from you and standing up.

"Holy shit..." you gasp as he slides his pants back on. Slowly standing up, he hands you some napkins as you feel his warm seed dripping down your thighs. You clean yourself off, discarding the napkins into the bin. Paul walks towards the window of his apartment and opens it as you get dressed. The cool air feels good on your hot, sweaty skin.

"I love it up here," Paul says, peering out the open window, "the whole city... come, look."

Standing in place, you think of your sister. The man she was seeing, who threw her out of a window, lived in a high-rise apartment. Panic washes over you as you slowly back away. It can't be the same guy... you don't want to believe it.

Before you can react, Paul walks over to you swiftly, grabbing you by your hips. His grip is firm, and you're unable to break away as he effortlessly leads you toward the window.

#saw #costas mandylor #mark hoffman #detective hoffman #sawposting #fanfic #smut #falling for you #paul blankenship #paul blankenahip x reader #Spotify

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