#I'm so sorry for the late reply I clocked out after making that one post Lol

[woso-dreamzzz]

Shot Through The Heart II

Alexia Putellas x Archer!Reader

Summary: The story of your love

A camera pans down from the treeline to focus on an unassuming house on an unassuming street in an unassuming part of Barcelona. It zooms in to the front door, swinging open and investigates the hallway - passing by a collection of family photos, a World Cup medal framed along with a bow and arrow mounted above a doorway.

It turns sharply to the left to an open plan lounge that borders a kitchen.

An interviewer is sitting in an armchair facing you and Alexia, snuggled on the sofa.

"You caused quite a stir," The interviewer says," When you both posted on Instagram. I guess my first question is, how did it begin?"

Alexia chuckles. "We shared a garden. It was one of those old gardens where the end of it shared a fence with the neighbour behind you. I kicked my football over it."

"And I shot it, pinned it to the fence and everything."

"I climbed that same fence to get it back. And we just stared at each other. Then, I burst into tears."

●～●～●～●～

The girl who just climbed over your fence stared at you.

You stared back, brows pulled together in confusion.

Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she pointed an accusing finger at you. "What did you do to my ball?!"

You pointed to where your arrow had pinned it to the fence. "I shot it." You put your hands on your hips. "You shouldn't kick balls over my fence if you don't want them shot!"

The girl burst into tears, sobbing hysterically and you jolted in shock. You glanced back at your house in worry before you frantically unpinned the ball from the fence.

"Sorry! Sorry!" You said, holding the ball out to her," Stop crying! Look! Here! Take your stupid ball!" You threw it at her.

She caught it, turning it over in her hand as it began to very slightly deflate. She pointed at your bow. "What's that?"

"It's my bow," You replied, before puffing out your chest," I'm an archer."

"I'm a footballer."

"Cool."

"You bow's kind of cool too."

"I'm y/n."

"Alexia."

●～●～●～●～

"So not the best first meeting," The interviewer jokes.

You shake you head. "Not the best but we ended up getting on after that. Our Papas had to knock down the fence and replace it with a door so we didn't have to keep climbing to see each other."

"I think your dad still has the scar," Alexia replies and you roll your eyes.

"It all worked out though. We attended the same schools, sat together in class, ate together at lunch. We walked home together too."

"And was it difficult to find time to hang out together while you were both training?"

Alexia thinks back to it and shakes her head. "We would walk home together after school and our mamas would take it in turns to drive each of us to practice."

"La Masia was closer so Alexia always got out first but I finished earlier so we would get driven back home with each other too."

"Sometimes we'd have sleepovers."

The interviewer smiles. "And when did your romantic relationship start?"

"We were sixteen. Alexia asked me."

●～●～●～●～

Alexia was late. You weren't entirely sure why but she was. You glanced at the clock, tapping your foot impatiently. You couldn't stay long, you had a competition that your Papa was taking you to - you had gotten the rest of the day off school.

The canteen was filling up with students and you glanced at the clock again. You sighed, checking your phone. No messages from Alexia.

It wasn't like her to ghost you like this but you just assumed she had been asked to stay back after class.

You shouldered your bag, ready to make your way to reception to sign out and wait for your father to pull up, when a body crashed into yours.

Alexia curled around you, head in your neck. You felt her grinning.

"You're late," You informed her," I have to get going."

She retreated from your embrace, lacing your fingers together and walked with you to reception. She waited as you signed out and joined you outside when you went for your Papa to arrive.

You could feel her staring at your side profile, not looking away.

"What?"

"You're so pretty."

You rolled your eyes. "You're pretty too, Alexia."

She shook her head in annoyance as if trying to gather her thoughts. Her mouth opened and closed repeatedly. "Date me."

●～●～●～●～

The interviewer laughs. "So, not much of a question then."

You laugh too. "I knew what she meant. It was a no brainer to say yes."

"I wanted to take her to the movies," Alexia says," But my Mama told me that if I wanted to go, I had to take Alba so we just ended up in the park."

"We spent hours there, though," You continue," And we ended up at this cute little café that we always go back to. It was run by this cute old couple that had been together for years. They're gone now but their son took over."

"We used to sit there all the time and do our homework when we didn't have practice. He watched us grow up. We get free doughnuts when we go there now."

Your hands draw circles on Alexia's arms as you hum, watching the interviewer lap up all the information.

"And, obviously, Alexia you ended up at Barca but y/n...You went to South Korea?"

You laugh at her shock. "Yeah, Korea's pretty damned good at archery. In fact, my trainer when I was younger came from there originally so he recommended I head over. I mean, I've trained all around the world for archery but the Koreans are dedicated. They're extremely good and I'm honoured that I got the chance to try and keep up with them."

"And how did the long distance work? Was it difficult?"

●～●～●～●～

Alexia's offseason never lasts really long. Between club duties and country duties, she was always on the pitch.

Your schedule was a bit more lenient, allowing you to train anywhere you wanted although you mainly stayed in Korea. You flew to France a few times a year, a brief two-month stay in the US, a couple of weeks in Spain and then back to Korea again.

It was rare that she had this kind of time off so, there you were, waiting at Incheon airport for the love of your life to get through the doors.

She crashed into you as soon as she spotted you. You held her tight, nose buried into her hair as you breathed her in.

"I missed you, amor," She said.

"Not as much as I missed you," You replied.

You pulled back, taking her cheeks in your hands and pulling her in for a long, sweet kiss - trying to put all of your longing and love into it.

"I missed you," You said again as you took Alexia's hand in your own while your other grabbed her bags.

You brought her back to your apartment, dumping the suitcase in the lounge before turning to look at Alexia. It wasn't the first time she had been in your apartment but she still marvelled over it like it was.

Her hands ghosted over the pictures of her mantelpiece - particularly the one with you and her at school, grinning at the camera like two crazy people. Your bow leaned up against the tv and a medal hung from a hook attached to a magnet on your fridge.

"I watched this competition," She said as she poked the medal," I couldn't understand anything the commentators were saying but you looked really good in your uniform."

You sent her a lopsided smile. "You think I looked good?"

"Hmm." She sauntered over, her hands coming to rest in your back pockets. "Very good. Made me a little upset that I wasn't there to congratulate you." She raised a brow and your throat bobbed.

"Well..." You said, glancing at the clock - you had a reservation at your favourite barbeque place soon," You scored a fantastic goal last week. I...I think I'd like to congratulate you too."

Alexia gave you a wolfish smile. "Good..." She turned around. "Bedroom still in the same place?"

●～●～●～●～

"We made it work," Alexia says.

"I earned a lot of air miles," You boast," I'm still cashing them in." You grin lazily. "Our trip to Greece was bought off those miles."

Alexia rolls her eyes. "She'll tell anyone who listens about that but it's true. We spent a lot of time flying out to see each other whenever we could. I think we saw each other more than we saw our parents."

You laugh, resting your head on Alexia's shoulder. "I think I once told my parents not to fly out to see me because you were already on the plane."

"And, obviously, one of you proposed. How did that happen?"

"I proposed."

●～●～●～●～

It was a beautiful night. Not too hot. Not too cold. You'd made sure of it, comparing the weather forecast for days before selecting the one you wanted.

You took her out on a walk. You bought her lunch.

Every time she smiled at you, your heart fluttered and you had to look away. You wanted to spring the question each time but you had planned this. You didn't want to ruin it.

"Not that I'm complaining," Alexia said as she followed you onto the balcony of the fancy hotel room you had rented," But what gives? Was there something special today? Something I've forgotten about?"

"Can't I just do something nice for you?"

"You've been doing a lot of nice things. A walk. Lunch. A shopping spree. Dinner and now a hotel room. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me."

You grinned at her. "Is it working?"

"You don't need to seduce me," She said," I don't keep you around for just the sex."

You scoff in jest, a dramatic hand on your heart. "But you keep me around partly for the sex? Alexia!"

She laughed, shaking her head. "You know I keep you around because I love you."

"I should hope so," You said. Your hand dipped into your pocket and dropped to one knee. "Because otherwise, this would be really embarrassing."

●～●～●～●～

"We got married within the month," Alexia says," We eloped. I don't even think we told our parents we even got engaged."

"Your Mama grabbed me by the ear and yelled at me for hours," You laugh, rubbing your ear in phantom pain," I think she thought that I could have stopped you from dragging me to that courthouse."

"I..." Alexia's face glows red as she speaks. "I just didn't want to wait. In all honesty, for us, it already felt like we were married, we'd been together for so many years that getting the marriage certificate signed seemed like just the final checkbox. I didn't need a big wedding or anything. We love each other. What more needed to be done?"

"Her mother still holds it against me."

"Mama is being dramatic." Alexia rolls her eyes. "She got to hold her little party for us."

"We snuck a way for that too," You say to the interviewer," For someone that didn't want a wedding, she was very eager to get to the honeymoon."

"We bought that on her air miles too."

Everyone in the room laughs at that.

"So, childhood sweethearts," The interviewer summarises.

"Childhood sweethearts," You confirm. Alexia moves a bit closer to you, leaning her head on your shoulder after pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"And, now you're living together in Barcelona. Is it a big adjustment after so many years of long distance?"

"It's a good adjustment," Alexia says," It feels good to finally be in the same place as each other, permanently."

"She likes that I get the groceries," You joke.

"Oh, yes," She says with a grin," It's what I keep her around for."

You stick your tongue out.

So does she.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso imagine #woso community #woso fanfics #woso

[steddieas-shegoes]

stay for a while

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is being late to work' and for @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up event for Valentine's Day

rated e | 815 words | tags: post-sex afterglow, dirty talk, established relationship, domestic fluff

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

"You gotta go faster," Steve panted.

"I'm not the one riding me, sweetheart," Eddie replied, equally out of breath.

"Put your back into it."

So Eddie gripped Steve's hips and put his back into it.

When Steve collapsed on top of him, Eddie's cum coating both of their stomachs, they both sighed.

This was the first time they'd managed to have sex in nearly a week. Their schedules were awful lately, and any time they did manage to spend together was usually asleep.

But Steve managed to wake up before his alarm this morning and Eddie was already naked and hard and one thing led to another...

"I'm gonna be late if I don't get up and shower," Steve sighed.

He loved his job as a guidance counselor, but the early mornings sucked. Especially when Eddie didn't have to be at work most days until nine.

Maybe he could call in sick or something today.

"I could join you..." Eddie's teeth nipped his neck teasingly. "Work you up while you wash your hair. Suck you off until you can't feel your legs. Maybe fill you up again and lick you clean."

If Steve's cock wasn't trapped between them, it probably would have given a valiant effort at getting hard again.

"Babyyyyy."

"What?" Eddie kissed his jaw. "I just wanna make up for all the time we've missed this week."

"I know," Steve sat up and looked down at Eddie's sweat-slick chest. "It'll be better next week. I won't be on afternoon pick-up duty and won't have senior meetings to go to."

"And I won't be stuck at the studio with this fuckin' singer who thinks I don't have a life outside of him and his lackluster songwriting skills."

Steve smirked. "Tell me how you really feel."

"I would, but I wouldn't wanna ruin the afterglow, Stevie. You look fuckable."

"I look fucked. There's a difference," Steve leaned down to kiss his forehead.

"Not to me," Eddie pouted. "I could fuck you again. Real quick. Won't even know I'm there."

Steve snorted. "Why are you so horny this morning, Jesus Christ."

"Don't blame him. I just always want you. You're like a potato chip: one is never enough."

"Wow. What a line. I'm melting into a puddle," Steve's monotone voice was interrupted by Eddie's loud laugh. "I'm gonna go shower before you try something."

"But...we still have 30 minutes before you have to go."

Steve glanced at the clock, jumping up and yelping when he realized Eddie hadn't even pulled out all the way yet. "Shit!"

"What?"

"I have a senior meeting this morning! I have less than ten minutes!"

Steve tripped getting out of the bed, his legs still wobbly from riding Eddie for the last 15 minutes.

"Reschedule it!" Eddie yelled after him as Steve ran into the bathroom and started the shower. "Call in sick."

"Not happening! It's Hannah; She's freaking out about college applications as if she won't get in everywhere she applies and if I cancel, she'll spiral," Eddie made his way into the shower as Steve spoke, nodding along to his words, but focused mostly on the way the water was dripping down his body as he rushed to wash his hair. "And then I have a faculty meeting with the rest of the counselors to discuss how we'll implement the new afterschool senior study group because the school board said we can't legally call it a study group unless it's 100% sanctioned by the students, which is just incredibly stupid and also not even remotely important! Like, we're just trying to make sure they can pass their finals, why does it matter what we call it?"

Eddie leaned in to kiss Steve's lips softly, just enough of a brush against them to make him pause.

"Sorry," Steve sighed. "Didn't mean to ramble."

"You know I love when you do, Stevie," Eddie smiled at him, grabbing the shampoo bottle from the shelf to get started on his own hair. "I just hate seeing you so stressed. Kinda wanna help relieve that stress some more."

"Baby, I love you, but if you touch my dick right now, I will murder you."

"Ouch," Eddie clutched his hand to his chest. "Straight to murder over a little handjob in the shower?"

"If that's what has to be done for me to get to work on time."

Eddie sighed. "Fine. I won't touch you. But I'm gonna be sad all day about the lost moments we could've shared."

Steve finished rinsing off the soap on his body and turned to give Eddie a quick peck on the lips. "We can share some moments tonight. Promise."

"Okay, okay. Get out before you're late."

Steve was still late for work, but mostly because he still insisted on packing Eddie's lunch while he was in the shower finishing up. No job was more important than that.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is being late to work #dirty talk #established relationship #domestic fluff #post-sex afterglow

[joshsjipple]

Brother's Best Friend, pt 2

JOSH KISZKA X FEMALE READER

A/N: Hey my loves! Finally posting this and wrapping this little blurb up! Just wanted to say Tumblr isn't letting me reply to your comments, but I am seeing them! I seriously appreciate every like, reblog, and comment. I'm so happy you guys are enjoying my content:) This is also heavily unedited!

Word Count: 3.2k

WARNINGS: 18+ graphic sexual content! unprotected sex (wrap before you tap people), teasing, dirty talk, praise, oral sex (m/f/rec), choking, language, minor cock warming, p in v, throat fucking, gagging, dom/sub (switches), use of vibrator, spit play, feelings, and light fluff. Sorry if I missed anything!

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

When a knock on your front door appears and causes you to falter while putting dishes away, you check the clock. 10:30. You’re a bit concerned at who would be at your door this late, but nonetheless, you patter over and look through the peephole. You wouldn’t have been super surprised if it was one of your friends or even Henry coming to assure you’ve forgiven him, but seeing Josh with his hands stuffed in his pockets was last on your list. 

“Josh? What are you doing here?” you ask once you’ve opened the door. You try to hide the annoyance in your voice but you can tell by his knitted eyebrows that it didn’t work.

It’s been three weeks since you and Josh hooked up. Three weeks, and not a single word from him. You should have been fuming at the fact he was standing in front of you right now, gleaming at you with puppy dog eyes, but you didn’t try to contact him after the fact either.

“I know it’s late, but I just got back from New York and I needed to see you.” he says, pushing past you into your apartment. You scoff and follow behind him, slamming the door behind you.

Your heart leaps at the fact that him being away was probably the reason he didn’t reach out. “Oh. How long were you gone?” you can’t help but ask.

“Only a week,” he rubs the back of his head. 

“Oh.” you feel your expression drop back into its subtle annoyed pose. “So you don’t have an excuse?”

He stares at you, trying to decide what you mean. “An excuse for what?”

You bite your lip and shake your head. “Gee Josh, I don’t know! Maybe the fact we shared an intimate moment and then you told me you wanted to be with me and then ghosted me?”

“I know, Y/N. I know, okay? But you didn’t reach out either. I just figured you needed time.”

“Yes, I did, but three weeks?” you stare in disbelief. “Whatever Josh. Can you just go? I have things to do.”

“At 10:30? What could you possibly have to do this late?” he tilts his head. 

You take this as a challenge and rummage through your mind for an excuse. Only one thought pops in your head and you bite your lip as you decide if you should use ir or not. “I need to relieve myself.” You watch as his jaw falls open slightly, showing his white teeth. The skin of his cheeks turns into a soft shade of pink as he soaks in your words. “So I’d really appreciate it if you left. Right now.”

“Woah, wait a second.” he resists against you as you try to guide him back to the door. “You don’t want me to help?”

“Nope,” you say, popping the p. 

“How do I score an invite?” he tries again. You sigh and try to push him back to the door, but he holds his ground.

“You don’t. Now go home.”

“Let me make you feel good. Please.” he rasps. You remove your hands from his shirt and stare into his big brown eyes. No man should ever look this desperate to please a woman. Paired with his teeth tugging at his bottom lip and his hands settling on your waist, he puts up a good fight. “Do I need to beg?” he asks, tugging your shirt up with his hands. 

“Be my guest,” you say, pushing away from his warm body and disappearing into your room. 

At first, you’re unsure if he’ll even follow you there. Josh was huge on consent, and you didn’t exactly say yes. Your worries vanish after a few seconds when you hear his footsteps approaching your door. You stand next to your bed, hands folded across your chest. When he finally appears, he shuts your door and stands a few feet from you.

“Where do you want me?” he smirks.

“Right there is fine,” you say, pointing next to your nightstand.

Like a puppy, he does exactly as you say. You have to turn away from him to hide the blush on your lips as you remove your shirt. Wearing nothing under, you toss the material on the floor and begin to shimmy your way out of your pants.

“Wait. What are you doing?” he huffs from behind you.

“You can watch.” you say through a grin.

Without turning to catch his reaction, you wander to your dresser and dig in the top drawer. Finding your pink vibrator, you clutch onto it and crawl on your bed. Josh smirks at you, obviously enjoying the show you’re mindlessly putting on for him. 

“It’s pink. How cute.” sarcasm oozes from his mouth.

“If you touch me this is over and you leave my house, got it?”

He opens his mouth to speak but quickly shuts it, deciding a nod would be better for his current situation. You turn on the device and the hum combined with Josh’s eyes staring into your soul makes you squeeze your legs together. Shaking away the shivers, you prop yourself up on your headboard and begin to open your legs.

“That’s it baby… spread your legs.” he begins to palm himself through his jeans.

Immediately, you snap your legs shut and sit up. “Don’t do that,” you growl defensively. “I’m in control here.”

“Right,” he rolls his eyes playfully. “I’ll let you have your moment.”

“On your knees,” you direct him, trying to keep your voice from shaking. He obliges, falling to his knees right in front of you. “Good. Just sit there and look pretty, mk?”

You watch his fingernails dig into his clothed thighs as you run the member through your folds. You make sure to spice up your reaction, rolling your eyes in the back of your head and letting out a soft moan. Josh sits there, as he’s told, a glimmer in his eyes. You continue sliding the device through your slick, biting down on your lip when it comes across your clit. He adjusts himself, letting out a groan as he searches for friction through his pants.

“Jesus, fuck Y/N. Do you want me to beg? Cause I will.” he growls. 

You pull the vibrator away from your heat and think for a moment. It’s a nice visual to imagine him on his hands and knees begging to get you off, but you sweep it from your mind. Holding his gaze, you flick the utensil over your throbbing clit. Your hips grind up into it, a long breath leaving your lungs.

“Please, Y/N. I need to taste you so bad,” he begins, a mischievous shimmer in his eye. Your guard shatters as he slowly crawls to you. Your breathing hitches as he makes eye contact with your heat. “Open up for me. Let me see you.”

Shamefully, you do just that. His tongue darts out and traces his bottom lip. Your skin flourishes with goosebumps as his cool breath reaches your center. “How do you plan on ‘being in control’ if you can’t touch me?”

He smirks, obviously having a plan. He shrugs and says, “I don’t know, mama. Wanna find out?” You nod quickly and he lets out a low chuckle. “I thought so. Now touch yourself.”

You falter for a moment, but begin to drag your fingernails across your stomach. Squeezing one of your breasts, you toss the vibrator to the side. You drag a finger over yourself, relishing in the feeling of actual human skin causing you pleasure. Your eyes flutter shut in hopes of escaping his glare, but you feel his eyes lingering on your skin. You squirm, imagining his finger teasing your clit. It’s stupid, considering he’s right there and would gladly do it for you.

“You’re so pretty when you’re like this,” he hums, blowing cold air across the nipple that’s not threaded through your fingers. Your back arches involuntarily at his words. “I wish I could touch you, baby. I’d make you feel so good until you’re crying for my cock.”

You circle your clit quicker, earning a low grunt from Josh. “You wish.”

“I do,” he responds without a pause. “I wish so bad.”

You add another finger and work your bundle of nerves furiously. Josh’s hovering above you, not a single piece of him touching you. It’s driving you insane and there’s nothing you want more than to feel his tongue sucking your clit. The image of him between your legs in the car pops into your mind. His cheeks were red, his chin covered in your release as he stared at you through hooded eyelids. You use this image to help resist the urge of letting him win.

When you arch your back even farther, your chest nears his face. He breathes out, the warm air coating your body. “Say the words and I’ll make you cum harder than you ever have before.”

You groan. “No.”

“Your funeral,” he smirks, sitting back on his ankles. You don’t know when he crawled onto the bed, but that thought was the farthest thing from your mind as he began to unbutton his pants. You scoff at him, perching yourself back up on your elbows. “What? You said I couldn’t touch you.”

“You’re such a tease.”

“Says the girl who’s getting herself off for my own personal torture,” he bites as he works the fabric off his legs. 

“You should have called, Josh.” you hiss, working your fingers back over yourself. 

You drag a finger to your entrance and slowly slide it in as Josh removes his last layer. His cock is hard as a rock, precum leaking from the tip. Your body jerks at the sight of a vein protruding from the side. In one swift, fluid motion, he tugs the shirt off his back and tosses it to the ground. He returns to his cock and it looks painful as he takes it into his hand and begins to fist himself. Your heart nearly explodes as he does the most vile thing a man could ever do; spit on himself. You moan his name as you watch him begin to jerk himself. You begin to move your finger in and out of you faster.

“Add another,” he demands in a hoarse tone. 

Your body shakes as you slide your ring finger back into yourself, along with your pointer. Sloppish noises fill the room as you and Josh both work towards your climaxes. Your eyes are glued to Josh’s cock, his glued to your dripping center. 

“Give me that,” he stops his motions and snatches the vibrator from beside you. When you open your mouth in protest, he stops you. “You only said I couldn’t touch you.”

“Stop cheating, Kiszka.” you growl, your stomach muscles tensing as your fingers pound into you.

“Let me touch you,” he tries one last time.

“Not happening,” you say, removing your fingers from your entrance. “Let’s see what you’ve got.” you say confidently, knowing damn well you’re screwed. 

He flips the switch on and settles between your legs, careful not to let any part of himself touch you. He holds the device in the air and presses it to your clit. You jolt from under him as he abruptly pulls it away from you. Then, he flicks it off before sliding the tip of it into you. Your hands grip your bed sheets as he pathetically slides the tube in and out of you, just fast enough to keep you stimulated but too slow to get you anywhere. 

“Josh,” you whine and buck your hips against the toy.

“Nope,” he teases. “Your turn to beg.”

Anger splashes through your blood as you bite down on your lip. “I’m not begging.”

“Just surrender already. You’re so difficult.” he whispers. 

“Please touch me, Josh.” you pathetically say, your words strained. 

As soon as those words leave your mouth, he removes the vibrator and abandons it on the bed next to you. You expect to feel his lips sucking on your clit immediately, but he starts at your ankles. Placing delicate but wet kisses along your skin, you grip the sheets tighter. He nips at the inside of your thighs, tugging and sucking on your skin. You have hope when his lips brush across your folds, but they abandon that idea and he kisses your belly button instead.

You grab his head of curls and push him back to your heat. “Either make me cum or leave.”

“So demanding,” he rolls his eyes before diving in.

Immediately, he takes your clit into his mouth. His lips knead the swollen bundle of nerves and when he tries to pull away, your hand holds him in place. “So fucking hot.” He continues to lap at your clit. “I could cum just from getting you off, you know that right?”

You clench your teeth before saying, “Get on with it.”

He giggles against you, the vibrations causing an extra wave of arousal to rush through you. Luckily, Josh can tell and quickly reattaches his mouth to your soaking core. His tongue teases your entrance as his lips work around. He acts like a starved man as he devours your pussy. 

“Do that again–shit–just like that, baby. So fucking good.” you shiver underneath him. 

His hands grip your ass as he forces you farther into the heat of his mouth. Your thighs squeeze around his head and he pulls a hand from under you to hold it down. The unrelenting force of his mouth draws you closer to the edge and your legs begin to shake as stars appear in your vision. With your hand fiercely tugging at his curls, you thrust into his face. Josh welcomes it, humming in pleasure. 

That motion sends you into oblivion. You become a withering mess, your body jerking from side to side as an orgasm rips through you. His name, along with a dozen profanities, leave your mouth. Josh doesn’t stop his motions of licking, sucking, and stroking until your body stops shaking and your release coats the bottom half of his face. 

Gathering your strength, you blink motionless at the ceiling. He kisses your thighs, gently licking up any access cum he didn’t catch in his mouth. Once you’re cleaned up, he crawls over your limp body and falls against you. His arms wrap you in a tight hug and you can feel his cock twitch against your leg.

“You okay?” He says as he kisses your ear.

“I want to make you feel good, Josh.” you say in a hushed tone, snaking your hand down to the shaft of him. The contact makes him jump and thrust into you. He whimpers into your neck, making your eyes roll in the back of your head. “Sit up for me, pretty.”

He listens and you crawl over his outstretched legs. You run your tongue over his belly button, tracing his happy trail all the way down to the patch of hair resting below his hips. You kiss his soft skin, earning sweet moans. His hand finds your hair and he massages your scalp. You take him into your hand again, pumping him a few times as you lick up his balls. When you pull away from him, a sheen of sweat has covered his rosie cheeks.

“Go on, mama. Suck it.” he quivers, his thumb running over your plump lip. He uses the tip of his cock to brand you with his pre cum, spreading it across the skin like lipstick. “Open.” 

You stick out your tongue and allow him to slap himself on the muscle before you slide him into your mouth. Josh pushes your head down until every hard inch of him is buried in the back of your throat. Your lungs burn as tears form in your eyes. 

“Breathe, mama.” he soothes you, his fingers massaging your head. He doesn’t move an inch, forcing you to focus on your breathing. You fight back a gag as his fingers brush a strand of hair out of your face. “You look remarkable with my cock down your throat, love.” He pulls you off of his length, his eyes meeting yours. He wipes drool from your lip with a smirk. “You take me so good. Gonna be a good girl and let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours?” he asks.

You nod and he quickly shoves himself back into your mouth. He uses his hand as a makeshift ponytail as he plunges up into your mouth. You gag as tears spill down your cheeks. You focus on his chest. His chest heaves, his stomach flexing with every thrust. You feel him twitch in your mouth and he quickly removes your lips from him. A trail of saliva is all that connects the two of you.

“Fuck, that’s so hot.” he groans, using the pad of his thumb to break the line. He dips it in your mouth before pulling it back out. Manhandling you, he pulls you to the edge of the bed so he’s standing between you. “Are you still on the pill?” you nod. “Do you want to use a condom?”

“No, Josh. Cum inside of me. Please. I need it.” you cry. 

He groans from above you, sliding the tip of him through your slick. You wrap your legs around your waist and one of his hands keeps you in place as the other angles your ass higher. Without warning, he stuffs himself inside of you. A loud, pornographic moan escapes your mouth as his hips snap in and out of you.

“You’re so tight, darling. Fuck–taking me so good.” he whimpers from above you.

His hands grip your tits as he continues to fuck your cunt. Your legs tighten around him, hands clawing at his back as you take everything he has. Pleasure already builds in your lower abdomen, and you try to fight it off, not ready to let him go. His strokes deepen inside of you and you feel yourself sliding back. Josh places his hand on your neck, squeezing enough to take your breath away for a moment. 

“Josh,” you rasp through the hold on your neck.

“Yeah? Say my name again–fuck.” his grip tightens and you grab his wrist with your hand.

“Josh, I’m gonna cum.” you warn as the tip of him brushes against your G-spot once more. 

He repeats the same move until your body shakes violently from under him. His eyebrows are knitted together tightly as another mind blowing orgasm controls your body. He follows soon after, panting and crying your name as he fills you up. He’s warm inside of you and you want to feel this way forever. 

He collapses on top of you, burying his nose in your neck. You both pant as your bodies recuperate. His hand eventually finds your cheek and his thumb strokes the soft skin. He wipes hair out of your face before kissing your collar bone. He kisses a trail along your face, planting a giant one of your forehead before connecting them.

“I’m so in love with you,” he admits, hands massaging your scalp. 

“I love you Josh. I want to be with you.”

He pulls away and stares at you with his big brown eyes. His eyes crinkle as he smiles. “I’m eternally yours, sweetheart.”

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #greta van fleet smut #josh gvf #josh kiszka fic #sam kiszka gvf #josh kiskza fanfic #josh kiskza smut #gretavanfleet #gvf smut #gvf #sam gvf #jake gvf #danny gvf #daniel wagner #smut

[melancholy-of-nadia]

love u lately #2 (m) | myg/knj/pjm

title: love u lately​ chapter title: #2 - right here​ pairing: yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader (yoonminjoon x f. reader) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; college/university au , pseudo frat! bts; best friends! yoonminjoon friends to lovers; summary: after the events from friday night, you are trying to grapple with the newfound reality you find yourself in with Yoongi, and simultaneously trying to hide it from everyone in the Beta Tau Sigma house. When you seek Hwasa for advice and have an encounter with JB, you leave with a sudden epiphany on how to move forward. warnings: pwp, semi-public sexual activity (in a Professor's office), blowjob, handjob, cum-swallowing, ALMOST getting caught, hungover namjoon, jimin is sus, tbh not many warnings THIS TIME note: lol im sorry i'm always late at posting but here it is. s/o to @daegudrama for editing total word count: 6.8k drop date: september 20th, 1:00pm pst cross posted on AO3 here ← #1 | Series Masterlist | #3 → October 6th (Saturday)

The soft rays of the morning sun creep through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You are still asleep, lost in a peaceful slumber that offers a respite from the whirlwind of emotions that consumed you the night before.

In your dreams, your thoughts and feelings dance in a realm of their own, untouched by the waking world.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen downstairs, a figure moves with purpose, the clinking of pots and pans punctuating the otherwise serene atmosphere. Yoongi stands by the stove, flipping pancakes with practiced ease. His movements are precise, each action a deliberate step towards his goal.

He glances at the clock on the wall, noting the early hour. It is unusual for him to be up and about so early, but he has a reason—an unspoken promise to take care of you after the night you both had. He knows that the morning after could bring with it the unpleasant aftermath of a hangover, and he wants to make sure you are comfortable and well-fed.

The scent of pancakes and sizzling bacon wafts through the house, mingling with the memories of the previous night. As he continues his cooking, a soft smile tugs at the corners of Yoongi's lips. He finds solace in the simple act of making breakfast for you, a way to convey his care and concern without needing to put his emotions into words.

Just as he finishes up, the front door creaks open. Yoongi's ears perk up at the sound, and he turns to see Jimin entering the house. Jimin's hair is slightly disheveled, a telltale sign of a night spent elsewhere. He is wearing a white oversized t-shirt with black basketball shorts. He blinks in surprise when he sees Yoongi in the kitchen, fully engaged in cooking.

"What's all this?" Jimin comments, his voice laced with curiosity. He takes a seat at the dining table, eyeing the spread of food on the counter and then back to Yoongi, with a puzzled look. "Hyung, you're looking a little different this morning,"

Yoongi turns to face Jimin, his usually calm expression replaced with an uncharacteristic cheeriness. His gummy smile is on full display, a sight that Jimin rarely witnesses. It usually comes out when he’s drunk or trying to act silly. But this smile right now is a smile that speaks of contentment, as if a weight has been lifted from Yoongi's shoulders.

"Just felt like making breakfast," Yoongi replies nonchalantly, flipping another pancake onto a plate. "Thought it'd be nice."

Jimin's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Yoongi is one of the main chefs of the Beta Tau Sigma house, but he usually wouldn't bother to make anything if the whole gang isn't home. It is almost as if something significant has happened to prompt this change in behavior.

As Jimin settles into his seat, he can't help but prod further. "Seriously. You're acting... different, Hyung. Are you sure you're okay?"

Yoongi chuckles softly, the sound carrying a hint of mischief. "I'm perfectly fine, Jiminie. Just in a good mood, I guess." Yoongi using Jimin’s cute nickname? Oh there is definitely something off.

Jimin eyes him suspiciously, his intuition telling him that there is more to this than Yoongi is letting on. "You're hiding something, are you?"

Yoongi's expression remains unchanged, a master of concealing his thoughts. "Why would I keep something from you, Jimin?"

Jimin's gaze narrows, studying Yoongi's face for any signs of a crack in his facade. He can't shake the feeling that there is something important that Yoongi isn't sharing, something that has prompted this uncharacteristic behavior. Did he get laid the night before? The only memorable time Yoongi has acted uncharacteristically giddy like this is when he lost his virginity during his junior year of high school to Ashley, who is a year younger than him. Well that and the times when he won Varsity basketball tournaments.

"Hyung, you know you can talk to me about anything, right?" Jimin's tone is gentle, his concern evident.

Yoongi's smile doesn't waver, but his eyes hold a hint of scorn. "I appreciate that, Jiminie. But sometimes, it's better to keep certain things to myself." 

Jimin sighs deeply, his brows furrowing as he gazes at Yoongi, who seems unusually tight-lipped about the events of the previous night. A small pang of worry tugs at his heart. He's well aware of Yoongi's penchant for privacy; it's one of the things that he respects about his best friend. In a world where secrets are sometimes shared like K-Pop idol photocards, Yoongi has always been the reliable vault, guarding his innermost thoughts and emotions with a steadfast determination.

While Yoongi might have an open and straightforward demeanor, he understands the gravity of the situation. He can't simply tell his other best friends that he broke their unspoken pact, that he fucked their sole female best friend in the quad. It's not just about secrecy; it's about a complex tangle of emotions, loyalties, and unspoken rules that bind their tight-knit group together. Yoongi knows that revealing this secret could potentially rock the foundation of their friendship and the overall house dynamics, and he's torn between wanting his friend to know the truth and protecting the bonds they've built over the years.

Just as Jimin is about to speak again, Yoongi turns his attention back to the food, effectively closing off any further discussion. Jimin watches him for a moment, a mixture of confusion and further concern swirling in his mind. He can't shake the feeling that something has shifted, something that he isn't fully aware of.

With a sigh, Jimin pushes those thoughts aside and focuses on his plate of food. He knows he’s been hanging out with Irene a little too often and missing out on fun stuff with his friends. He is starting to get tired of his relationship. He would much rather hang out with you, Namjoon and Yoongi or Taehyung and Jungkook…everyone in the house actually. But the sex with Irene isn’t too bad, and it satisfies an urge that has been frustrating him for months, possibly years. Only Taehyung knew of this truth besides him.

You are still asleep upstairs, your dreams blissfully unaware of the conversation outside of the door. Yoongi, with his unspoken secret and newfound cheerfulness, continues to carry the weight of his emotions in silence, determined to protect the fragile balance that exists within your group of friends. 

With a soft yawn, you stretch and sit up in bed, letting out a groan as your head protests the sudden movement. It doesn't take long for the events of the previous night to flood back into your mind—party hopping, laughter, and a moment of unexpected intimacy with Yoongi.

As you mull over the memories, a wave of embarrassment and excitement washes over you. The realization of what transpired between you and Yoongi sends a flutter of nervous anticipation through your chest. You know you'll have to face him soon, but first, you need to shake off the remnants of your hangover.

With a sigh, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand up, steadying yourself for a moment as your head spins. Gathering your resolve, you make your way to the bathroom, where you spend a few minutes brushing your teeth and splashing cold water on your face.

Feeling slightly more awake, you decide to head downstairs to the kitchen in search of a much-needed cup of water. As you descend the staircase, the aroma of breakfast hits you, and your curiosity piques. Yoongi rarely cooks this early, unless...

You step into the kitchen and are met with a sight that surprises you. The kitchen island is laden with plates of blueberry pancakes, sausages, omelets, and more. It's a feast fit for a king, and your stomach grumbles in response.

"Morning," a familiar voice greets you from the dining table, and you turn to see Jimin there, already tucking into his meal.

"Hey," you reply, rubbing your eyes as if it would clear away the remnants of sleep. Your gaze drifts to the spread of food, and then to Yoongi's back as he continues to work in the kitchen.

"He's been up for a while, making all this," Jimin says with a nod towards Yoongi.

You walk over to the dining table and take a seat across from Jimin. "Yoongi made all of this?"

Jimin chuckles, his mouth full of food. "Yeah, it's a bit unusual, right? Must be in a good mood or something."

You watch Yoongi's movements, the way he works with a focused determination. There's a sense of purpose in his actions, as if he's trying to convey something through his cooking.

"I'm not complaining though," Jimin continues with a grin, taking another bite of his pancakes.

You give a small smile in response, your mind still slightly foggy from the remnants of your hangover. As you take a sip of water, you can't help but feel a mix of emotions. Part of you is grateful for Yoongi's thoughtfulness, for taking care of you after a night of drinking. But there's also a sense of unease, a nagging fear of the consequences of what happened between you two.

As you pick at your food, you steal glances at Yoongi, wondering if he's feeling the same way. His demeanor is calm and collected, a mask that conceals the true depths of his thoughts. A mix of uncertainty and curiosity churns within you, but you push those thoughts aside when Jimin decides to break the silence.

"Hey, so how did game night go yesterday?" Jimin asks, his gaze shifting between you and Yoongi.

Yoongi's lips curl into a small smile, a subtle hint of satisfaction in his expression. "Went well, we went over to the River Court dorms with the big lounge. I won game night for the first time." This was definitely alluding to something else. Though for Jimin, these dots connected to answer the concern he had earlier. Still feels like some important information is still missing from it, he thinks.

You manage a nod, trying to keep your composure. "Yeah, it was a close game! Really thought Soohyun or Yijeong would win that, but unexpectedly, it was Yoongi!" You laughed, probably not because of what you said, but the ridiculousness of the situation you are currently in.

Jimin arches an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Really? That's interesting."

You decide to change the topic to ask Jimin about his events from the night before. “So, how was your night with Irene?”

Jimin's expression momentarily shifts as you bring up Irene, and he forces a smile. "Oh, you know, the usual. We went to that new Italian restaurant downtown after her fall rush activities. It was... nice." He tries to sound enthusiastic, but there's a subtle undertone of fatigue in his voice.

Yoongi, ever perceptive, raises an eyebrow as he takes in Jimin's response. "Nice, huh? Sounds thrilling." There's a hint of sarcasm in his words.

Jimin shrugs, not meeting anyone's gaze. "Yeah, well, you know how it is, trying to keep things exciting with Irene."

The room falls into a momentary silence, punctuated only by the clinking of cutlery as you all continue to eat. It's evident that Jimin is grappling with something, but he brushes it off. You would want to question if he’s doing okay, but you’re already treading on harsh waters with Yoongi so to add Jimin to the mix would make this worse.

The conversation continues with a few more remarks exchanged, but the air is tinged with an underlying tension that you can't quite shake. Despite Yoongi's attempt to appear nonchalant, you can tell that he's carefully choosing his words.

As the three of you eat in silence, the awkwardness becomes palpable. You find yourself fidgeting, your eyes darting around the room as you try to avoid Yoongi's gaze. The events of the previous night are still fresh in your mind, and the weight of unspoken words hangs heavy between you two.

Suddenly, you decide that you can't bear the awkwardness any longer. Pushing your plate away, you clear your throat. "Hey, guys, I need to go to the library this morning. Hwasa wanted to study together."

“Studying? On a Saturday morning, beansprout?” Jimin looks at you in disbelief and laughs.

“Beansprout!?” You look at him all confused at the new nickname. “Uh, yes! We got midterms coming up in a few weeks and I’ve been avoiding looking at my class lecture notes like the procrastinator I am.” You sigh.

Yoongi's eyes briefly meet yours as he goes to wash the dishes, seeing a flicker of understanding in his gaze that this is indeed an excuse to go clear your head. You're grateful that he doesn't push the elephant in the room, and that he knows you need time to process what happened. Maybe some studying and talking with Hwasa could help you decide what to do next.

"Then you better go, study and not fail out of college in your 2nd year here," Jimin replies reassuringly, giving you a knowing smile. "We'll catch up more later."

You get up from your seat, taking your dishes to the sink. As you reach out to place your plate down, your hand brushes against Yoongi's briefly, sending a shiver down your spine. It's a simple touch, but it's enough to remind you of the lingering connection between you two.

Without saying a word, you turn and make your way to your room to change. You opt for a comfortable outfit—jeans, a soft oversized sweater, and sneakers. It's a look that makes you feel at ease, even as your thoughts whirl with uncertainty.

Exiting your room with your backpack, you see Jungkook come out from his room next door. When did Jungkook get here? You say good morning to him, but with his airpods in and eyes trained on something on his phone it seems like he can't hear you as he walks into the bathroom.

You tell the two men in the kitchen you’ll be back later and head out. When you open the door, you catch a glimpse of Hoseok helping a clearly hungover Namjoon through the front door. You offer a small wave and a quick hello, not wanting to get caught in any further awkward interactions. Unfortunately, that does not happen.

“Y/N, where are you going?” Namjoon asks, causing you to turn around. You sigh inwardly but put on a friendly smile to respond to Namjoon's inquiry. "Hey, Namjoon, just heading to the library to study with Hwasa."

His eyes narrow ever so slightly as he studies your face, and you can tell he's being overly cautious. "The library, huh? You sure about that?"

You raise an eyebrow, a hint of annoyance bubbling beneath your polite exterior. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Your response sounds a little defensive, feeling a headache coming in from all the eggshell walking this morning.

Namjoon's protective instincts are on high alert, and he glances back at Hoseok for support. "No reason, it's just... you know, it's good to be careful, especially with JB around."

Your annoyance grows, but you keep your tone measured. "Namjoon, I appreciate your concern, but you know I can handle myself. And I'm not hanging out with JB, if that's what you're worried about."

Namjoon seems unconvinced but doesn't press further. "Alright, just be safe, Tiny. Call one of us if you need anything, okay?" 

You give him a reassuring nod before walking away to the library. You can't help but roll your eyes internally at Namjoon's overprotective nature, especially considering his own involvement with Jihyo. Nonetheless, you appreciate his concern, even if it's a bit misguided.

As you walk, you keep replaying the events of the previous night in your mind. The memory of the passionate kiss, the mix of emotions, and the unspoken words—all of it weighs heavily on your thoughts. Part of you knows that you need to have a conversation with Yoongi about what happened, to clarify your feelings and understand his intentions.

You make your way a few blocks to campus and enter the university library. The scent of books and hushed whispers surrounds you, creating an atmosphere of studious concentration. You're in dire need of a revitalizing tea, so you head to the library cafe to order one. While waiting for your tea, you call Hwasa, your trusted confidante, telling her that it's a "CODE RED," an urgent matter that requires her immediate attention. You know she's probably still in bed, but you can't wait to discuss this with her.

“Huh…Code Red?” Hwasa responds in a daze, words slurred. You think it's adorable.

"Ahn Hyejin, I need you to come to the library right now," you say, your voice carrying a mix of stern excitement and nervousness.

"Hmm? Addressing me with the govy name?! What's going on? Is this about some Harry Potter fanfiction again?" Hwasa's voice is groggy, clearly woken up by your urgent call.

"No, it's not about the Draco fic!...And that was ONE TIME! It's about... something else." You bite your lip, glancing around to make sure no one's eavesdropping on your conversation.

Hwasa, sensing that you are definitely serious about this code red call, responds with a more serious tone, "Alright, give me a second. I'll be there as soon as I can."

True to her word, Hwasa arrives shortly, looking a bit disheveled in her gray sweatpants and hoodie, but fully awake. You quickly fill her in on the events of the previous night, recounting everything you're able to remember—even the smallest details, thanks to your surprisingly sharp memory even when you're tipsy.

Hwasa's eyes widen with shock as she listens to your story. "Oh god, finally."

Confused, you raise an eyebrow. "Huh? What do you mean finally?"

Hwasa lets out a chuckle and shakes her head. "Honey, I'm gonna be honest with you. This man is clearly head over heels in love with you. Have you not seen the major heart eyes Min Yoongi has been giving you since I met you last year at the Fall Club Fair?"

Heart eyes? You're taken aback by her words, your mind racing to remember any instances where Yoongi might have displayed such feelings. Then you remember meeting Hwasa at the Fall club fair last year when you started college. Namjoon and Yoongi, both a year older than you, had been showing you and the other maknae line members around. Jimin and Jungkook had gotten caught up watching Hobi's street team dance performance. Namjoon, Jin, and Taehyung had been munching on food at some of the stalls. Meanwhile, Yoongi introduced you to the multicultural club booth, where you met Yijeong, Jieun, and Hwasa, who were giving away Korean goodies. You distinctly recall Yoongi wiping away some crumbs at the corner of your lips, an innocent gesture that Hwasa had clearly interpreted differently. For you, this was typical Yoongi showing his love language for his friends.

Hwasa grins mischievously as she continues, "Ever since then, I've seen the way he looks at you. Spring Fling too! Trust me, girl, those heart eyes don't lie."

You're a mix of emotions—surprised, flustered, and admittedly a little giddy. The idea that Yoongi might have feelings for you is both exhilarating and terrifying. You haven't allowed yourself to entertain such thoughts before, but now they're impossible to ignore.

Before you can say anything else, Hwasa leans in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

Your heart races as you contemplate the question. What are you going to do about it? It's a decision that could change the dynamics of your friendship with Yoongi forever. Not just him, but everyone in the house! As you sit there, lost in thought, you realize that you need more time to process everything that's happened. You look at Hwasa with a determined expression.

You hesitate, your mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions. "I mean, what would you do if you were in my position?" you finally ask, genuinely seeking her advice.

"Uh, date him?" Hwasa suggests with a casual shrug, as if it's the most obvious solution in the world. “There’s nothing stopping you from this, or is there…?”

You blink at her, your heart rate quickening. "Date Yoongi? But what about Jaebeom? I still am very much attracted to that man!" The idea seems both tempting and terrifying. There are so many reasons why it can't happen, with the main one being your lingering crush on Jaebeom. The other being related to two people you don’t want to think about much. 

Hwasa rolls her eyes, clearly unconvinced by your argument. "Oh, you're still hung up on that? Honey, have you not been listening to me? That guy is only looking to get his dick wet!"

You let out an exasperated sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and denial. "How sure are you about that? What if he actually likes me?"

Hwasa raises an eyebrow at you, her expression telling you that she's not buying your doubts. "I doubt it. Trust me, he doesn't do relationships from all the info I’ve heard. It's all about fun and games for him."

You press your lips together, torn between Hwasa's words of caution and the possibility that there might be more to Yoongi's intentions. It's a risk you're not sure you're ready to take, especially when your heart still flutters at the thought of Jaebeom.

Hwasa leans back, studying your conflicted expression. "Look, Honey, I'm not saying you should jump into anything. Take your time, figure out what you want. But don't dismiss Yoongi either. Sometimes, the best things are right in front of us, and after all that bullshit Joon and Jimin are pulling with the girlies they’re with…that thing you need might be Yoongi."

Her words resonate with you, and you sigh, nodding slowly as you hear her out. "Maybe, you're right. I'll take some time to think about it."

Hwasa smiles and pats your hand reassuringly. "That's all I'm asking for. Just promise me you won't close yourself off to these possibilities. And remember, I've got your back no matter what."

You manage a small smile in return, grateful for Hwasa's unwavering support. As you continue to chat, sharing your thoughts and concerns, you start to feel a bit more at ease. While the path ahead is uncertain, at least you have someone who's willing to listen and provide guidance.

As the conversation continues, you find yourself growing more introspective, contemplating the complexities of your feelings for both Yoongi and Jaebeom. It's a conversation that leaves you with a lot to consider, and as the afternoon sunlight filters through the library windows, you feel a renewed sense of clarity.

Eventually, you part ways with Hwasa, promising to keep her updated on any developments. Leaving the library, you take a deep breath of fresh air, feeling a bit of weight lifted off your shoulders. 

+++++++++++++++++++

October 8th (Monday)

On Monday, you walk into your Finance class, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness. As you enter the classroom, your eyes immediately search for JB. He's sitting in his usual spot, looking engrossed in his notebook. Taking a deep breath, you decide to sit next to him, despite the awkwardness you feel.

The lecture proceeds, and you find yourself trying to focus on the material, but your thoughts keep drifting back to the conversation you had with Hwasa. You're determined to be more present in the moment, but it's difficult when JB's mere presence beside you sends your heart racing.

Finally, the class comes to an end. As students start packing up their belongings, you take a deep breath and muster the courage to speak to JB.

 "Hey, JB," you begin, your voice a bit shaky. "I wanted to apologize for leaving you behind that night at the party. I wasn't feeling well, and Yoongi took me away to check-up on me."

JB glances at you briefly before shrugging nonchalantly. "It's whatever," he replies, his tone indifferent.

You're taken aback by his lack of reaction. You had expected some kind of response, maybe even a hint of annoyance, but his words are surprisingly dismissive. "I just wanted to make sure you didn't think I was intentionally blowing you off or anything."

JB raises an eyebrow, as if sizing you up. "Look, it's fine. I'm not really interested in talking to you anymore."

His words catch you off guard, and a strange mix of relief and disappointment washes over you. "Oh, um, okay then."

"Yeah, I figured you're probably busy with other stuff," JB says casually, as if he's already moved on.

“Other stuff? What are you talking about–”

JB doesn’t let you finish your question and instead, stands up, gathering his things. "Anyway, see you around."

You feel a pang of something – disappointment, perhaps – but it's not as sharp as you thought it would be. Maybe it's the newfound clarity you gained from talking to Hwasa, or maybe it's the fact that you've realized there was nothing truly tangible that could happen with JB. Though you are still confused by what he meant by that last remark, you decide to ignore it.

As JB walks away, you find yourself feeling strangely liberated.

After that interaction with him, you can't help but feel a newfound sense of empowerment and clarity. The conversation with Hwasa and the way JB's dismissal rolled off your shoulders made you realize that it's time to take control of your own feelings and decisions. With this determination in mind, you decide to follow Hwasa's advice and text Yoongi after your class.

You: Where are you right now?

 You type quickly, feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzes with a response. 

Yoongi: At Professor Kang's office, grading papers. He had to step out for a department meeting just now.

You: Stay where you are. I’m coming over there.

Taking a deep breath, you gather your things and head towards the Social Sciences building where Professor Kang's office is located. 

+++++++++++

You knock on the door, your heart beating faster as you wait for a response. The door opens, revealing Yoongi on the other side.

"Hey," you say softly, meeting his gaze.

"Hey," he replies, and you can sense a mixture of anticipation and something else in his eyes.

"Can we talk?" you ask, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

Yoongi steps aside, gesturing for you to enter the office. You step inside, and he closes the door behind you, the latch clicking softly, cocooning the two of you in this small space. Papers and books sprawl across the cluttered desk, lending the room a cozy, but somewhat chaotic, atmosphere. The soft, golden sunlight filtering through the outside trees adds a touch of tranquility to the space, as though it's caught in a moment of serene contemplation. 

You take a deep breath, facing Yoongi. "I've been thinking a lot about what happened on Friday," you begin, choosing your words carefully. "And I realize that I need to clarify my own feelings and thoughts."

Yoongi nods, his expression serious. "I've been waiting for you to bring this up," he admits. "I didn't want to push you into a conversation you weren't ready for."

You appreciate his understanding, and it gives you the courage to continue. "Thank you, Yoongs,” you say with a warm smile, your voice soft as you gather your thoughts. "I want to start by saying that I really enjoyed spending time with you on Friday," your cheeks flushing slightly with a delicate pink hue.

His eyes, like warm pools of caramel, meet yours, and he smiles. "I did too, probably the most fun I’ve had since the beginning of this semester." His voice is low and soothing, like a comforting melody in the background.

Your fingers trace patterns on the hem of your top, a nervous habit of yours activating as you are about to potentially initiate something you cannot change. "And after a lot of thinking," you begin slowly, "I wanted to ask you if we could start something…"

His curiosity piqued, Yoongi leans back against Professor Kang’s desk. "Spit it out, Sunshine," he encourages, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Like friends with benefits!" you finally let it out, the words hanging in the air, their weight palpable in the room. You can feel the soft breeze from the open window, a gentle reminder of the world outside, but for this moment, it's just the two of you, suspended in time.

Yoongi exhales, and moves to sit at the TA desk by the window.

 "Not what I thought you would say, but that doesn't sound like a bad idea given our circumstances."

You nod in agreement, feeling relieved that Yoongi is open to the idea. "I just think it could be fun and beneficial for both of us before we think about stepping into something more complex, y'know!" you say, trying to downplay the nerves that are still bubbling up inside of you.

Yoongi studies you for a moment, his eyes flickering with something you can't quite decipher.  “What about your crush on Jaebeom? Not trying to get with him anymore?” He asks.

“Well, he hates my guts since I left standing there on Friday when you dragged me away…so that’s done.”

He laughs lowly, “Well, I'm definitely interested if he’s not," he says and pauses briefly before saying the next thing on his mind. "But we should establish some ground rules first."

You nod again, eager to hear what he has to say. "Of course, whatever you think is necessary. I haven't done something like this since high school and you know how that went." 

You laughed nervously, recalling your unestablished situationship with Yeonjun that very much did not end well. You came crying to Namjoon, Jimin, and Yoongi that night when everything crashed down and they took you out for rolled ice cream.

Yoongi leans forward, his gaze intense. "First, we have to be completely honest with each other. If either of us starts to want something more from each other, we need to speak up immediately and decide what to do."

You nod, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at his words. "I agree, communication is key! What else do you think we should establish?"

"Second, we have to be safe," Yoongi continues, his voice serious. "We'll use protection when penetrating always, no exceptions. And we'll both get tested before we start anything."

You nod again, feeling grateful for Yoongi's responsible approach to this situation. "That makes sense, and I completely agree. Is there anything else?"

Yoongi leans back in his chair, his gaze flickering over your body. "Lastly," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper. "We have to be completely open with each other about our desires and boundaries. And we have to be willing to explore and experiment with each other."

You feel a shiver run down your spine at his words, your body responding to the promise of intimacy with Yoongi. "I am willing to do that," you reply, your voice husky with desire.

In that moment, your impulsive thoughts start advising you to do something you thought you would never do, and you listen. You walk towards Yoongi's desk and get on your knees in front of him, feeling emboldened by the conversation and agreement made. You realize what you're about to do is incredibly risky, but if you don't solidify this agreement now, when could you really? 

You reach for his thighs, your eyes never leaving his. Yoongi's gaze is intense as he looks down at you, your fingers gripping his thighs tightly.

"You’re really about to do this…right here?" he asks, his voice low and rough. "Are you sure about that?"

You nod, feeling a wave of desire wash over you. "I've never been more sure of anything," you reply, your fingers moving to the button of his jeans.

Yoongi lets out a low growl as you begin to unzip his pants, his eyes dark with desire. You take him in your hand, feeling him harden under your touch.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath as you begin to stroke him slowly. "You really drive me crazy.  You know that, Sunshine?"

You smirk up at him for using your everyday nickname in this context, feeling a sense of power as you pleasure him with your hands. He's never been more vulnerable than he is right now, sitting in his Professor's semi public office trying to control his heavy breathing with your hand wrapped around his cock slowly stroking.

"Well this is my favorite way to drive someone crazy," you say as you lean forward and wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, his taste and smell is more intoxicating than expected. His hands immediately fall to your curls, gripping them tightly as you take him deeper into your mouth.

You begin to move your head up and down, your hand still stroking him in rhythm with the movement of your mouth. You feel him harden further, his cock twitching in your hands and his moans filling the air.

You pull your head back, your lips wet from his glistening precum. "But I can think of a couple of other ways as well."

Yoongi's eyes are dark with lust, his breathing ragged. You move your hands to the waistband of his jeans and underwear, pulling them down his hips and freeing him from any constraint. He kicks off his shoes and lifts his feet so you can pull his pants all the way off, your eyes never leaving his.

You take him in your mouth again and begin to suck him in earnest, feeling your own desire growing between your legs. You're not sure how much longer you can last before you need him inside of you. You can't do that here though, no matter how much your inner whore wants you to risk it all. Your tongue continues to dance around him, exploring every inch of his cock with new enthusiasm. Yoongi's fingers dig into your scalp again as he struggles to control his low moans, his legs shaking every time you flick your tongue against the head of his cock.

This is definitely the most interesting place you’ve ever given a blowjob.

Yoongi's hand leaves your scalp and moves down to your shoulder, gripping it tightly as he moves himself deeper into your mouth. His cock throbs in your mouth as the first wave of his orgasm overtakes him, strings of his glistening cum shooting into your throat and coating your tongue. The flavor of Yoongi’s cum on your tongue is salty and tangy, like a citrus cocktail with a kick. The taste and sensation of it is addicting. Being in the public place you are in, you decide to swallow his load down your throat and you continue to suck him until he is finished. Leaving no evidence of the events taking place.

Yoongi pulls you off of him gently, his lips curled up in a smirk. "I think you really need to stop now, or else I'm going to lose control," he says, his voice hoarse.

"Don’t worry! That's it from me," you reply, your words muffled slightly by the fact that Yoongi's cock is still partially in your mouth. "I just wanted to give you a taste of what's to come with this agreement."

You stand up and help him straighten his shirt, then you help him put his pants back on and button them up. He stands as well, his hands still shaking as he tucks himself back into his boxers.

Yoongi begins chuckling suddenly, "Yeah, we definitely can’t tell anyone about this too," he regards, his voice strained. He looks just as desperate as you feel.

You nod, still feeling lost in lust. “Absolutely not.”

"We're still friends at the end of the day and I don't want this to ruin that.” Yoongi nods, his expression serious. “We can't let this affect our group dynamic or make things awkward when we're all together."

You nod again, taking in his words. "Of course, taking this secret to the grave with you, bestie Yoongs.”

You grab some of the hand sanitizer on Professor Kang's desk and apply it to your hands covered in spit residue. You are going to wash your hands once you step out of this room and reflect on this insane action you just did here, you think to yourself. 

In the moment you're about to ask Yoongi about something related to your arrangement, you hear a knock at the door, startling you. Yoongi looks over at you with panic, his eyes wide. He signals you to sit in a nearby chair and walks toward the door. He opens it to find Hoseok holding a stapled paper stack.

"Hey Hyung!" Hoseok says with his characteristic low yet excited voice. "Just wanted to come by to drop off one of my assignments for Professor Kang. I wanted to come earlier, but I got sidetracked by the dance team..." Hoseok's words drift away as he look behind Yoongi and sees you sitting down.

"Oh, Honey?" Hoseok calls out using your household nickname. “You're here too?" 

"Yeah…Just came by to drop off an iced americano for Yoongi to motivate him to finish his TA duties." You brush off the obvious lust on your face and try to look like you're not involved in anything. You sit there upright, hoping Hoseok would go with the flow. But he continues to be lost in thought. “I gotta go meet up with Jungkook, so I’ll excuse myself!” 

You get up from your seat and scurry out of the office without Yoongi getting the chance to say ‘see you at home!’

After a bit of silence, Hoseok's attention whips to Yoongi, a stern expression on his face. "So what's going on here, Yoongi?"

“Nothing related to whatever you’re thinking.”

Hoseok's eyebrows raise, his expression becoming more serious. "Really? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like something's been going on. You've been acting different, and her being in Kang’s office all alone with you and then she runs off?” He laughs, “Hyung! I've known you for years. You can't hide much from me."

Yoongi lets out a deep sigh, realizing that Hoseok won't be easily brushed off. He leans against his desk, arms crossed. “Hope, It's not like that.."

Hoseok nods knowingly. "Complicated, huh? Does it have anything to do with why you've been looking so love-struck lately?"

Yoongi's cheeks flush with embarrassment, however the setting sun radiating shades of red and orange into the office manage to camouflage the blush. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Hoseok chuckles, clearly enjoying teasing his friend. "Come on, Yoongi. You’ve been acting a little too excited since your Saturday morning breakfast feast? That was definitely meant for us."

Yoongi rubs his temples, a sign that he's growing frustrated. "Hoseok, can we not do this right now?”

Hoseok sighs, his playful demeanor softening into genuine concern. "Alright, Hyung! I won't push you further. Just remember, I'm here for you if you ever want to talk about it. And, you know, I can keep a secret."

Yoongi manages a small, appreciative smile. "Sure, Hope. I appreciate that."

Hoseok claps him on the back and back out the door way. "No problem, hyung. Just take your time, but don't take too long. Life's too short to be indecisive. He might decide to actually take her if you don’t."

Confusion clouds Yoongi's expression. "What? Who are you talking about?"

Hoseok grins mischievously as he opens the office door. "Oh, you'll figure it out, Hyung. Just remember what I said." With that, he exits the room, leaving Yoongi to ponder his cryptic words.

As the door closes behind Hoseok, Yoongi can't help but replay the events of the past few days in his mind. Hoseok's words about his own behavior and the warning about someone elses’ interest in you adds another layer of complexity to an already tangled situation.

 Is it about Namjoon? He thinks back to Saturday morning when Hoseok brought back Namjoon from wherever he was last Friday night. Namjoon ate some of the breakfast he made and didn’t come out of his room the whole weekend. Jimin doesn’t seem to be much of a concern right now despite him being suspicious of him too. Yoongi doubts anyone in the house would be trying to make a move on you. Well, there is Jungkook who is clingy to you on a normal basis but that doesn’t seem likely.  While Yoongi has been wanting this for a long time, was this agreement a bad idea after all? With a sigh, Yoongi returns to his desk, knowing that he has a lot to think about.

#yoonminjoon #yoonminjoon x reader #namgimin x reader #namjoon x reader #yoongi x reader #jimin x reader #bts smut #bts imagines #bts fic #jimin smut #namjoon smut #yoongi smut #love u lately #lul2 #college au #minimonimoni #frat au

[bookishtheaterlover7]

Divorce lawyer reader encountering laurie again unphased y/n took andy frm him

Worth It

Andy Barber x Divorce Lawyer!Reader

a/n: Hey, An🫶n, and my other beautiful readers! So sorry it's taken me a while to post any new stories, asks, or anything remotely interesting other than my rants and shade. It's been a tough month... For now, this is going to, hopefully, be 1 of 3 fics before November. Let me just say, I'm insane for challenging myself like this, but ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Anyway, sit back and enjoy the fic!

WARNINGS!!! Some cursing (calling of slut, one mention of Fuck), pet names, mention of the car crash, mention of near death, mention of therapy, Andy is one seductive little shit, maternal figure!Y/N.

*Y/S/N = Your SurName

**F/P = Favorite Pastry

***F/C/D = Favorite Cafe Drink

Her alarm rang obnoxiously loud, but Y/N didn't seem to mind as she reached out to her bedside table to turn it off, before snuggling back into the man sleeping peacefully beside her. As they were in the process of effectively divorcing his wife, Andy had promised that as soon as it was all finalized, she can expect for there to be some of the biggest changes in her life. And safe to say Atty. Y/N *Y/S/N, wasn't disappointed, and may never get tired of it all.

She wrapped her arms around the slender torso of her boyfriend. They'd been together for about two years now, despite having a rocky start, their feelings blossomed into the most beautiful thing that neither of the two have ever experienced before. And that fact was once again proven, when the girl's snuggling and attempt at burrowing had pulled a reaction from the unsurprisingly gorgeous man.

"You know that will only make you late, if not later, than normal, Baby Girl, right?" Andy smirked, eyes remaining closed, hiding the mischief behind them.

"So... What if I do want to be late? Hmm?" Y/N replied, her cheeky grin growing with each second, as she took to placing light kisses on the side of her Love's neck.

"Then you'll have to explain to a very moody 16-year-old, why he missed at least three periods... And you know you can't reason with him, or his teachers." Andy laughed.

"Fuck!" Y/N sighed, laying flat in disappointment.

"We never get our mornings in anymore..."

"You know we could just send, Jacob on the bus... Be some bad parents for once..." Andy whispered, pulling his girlfriend close once more, allowing him to do so, sexily, in her ear.

"No. I can't risk Laurie approaching, and basically harassing him. Again." Y/N said, pulling away from his extremely tempting arms, and sitting up.

"You know we should let her see him, again." Andy said, a hand rubbing Y/N's arm, and eventually resting on her hip, pulling him to her, as he propped himself with one arm, and scooted closer to her.

"And we will. In neutral territory, under supervision." Y/N huffed.

"You're never forgiving her, are you?" Andy said, after placing a kiss on her shoulder.

"Absolutely. Come on, Andy, we're going to be stuck at traffic if we don't start moving now." She continued, looking at the time on the clock across from the right side of the bed.

"You don't want to be called old by our son again, do you?" She added with a chuckle, getting up, and turning around to walk backwards towards the bathroom.

"No, I definitely don't! Especially if I'm going to make sure his Ma will be carrying his sibling..." Andy said, smiling with a playfulness that alluded to something more.

And it stayed on, as he charged at Y/N. Filling their home with sounds of laughter and gleeful screams. With Andy silently hoping that he'd be able to hear that sound for the rest of his life.

Jacob had had an early day off from school, considering that his Physics teacher had cancelled class to be with his 6 year old daughter, who had fallen and injured herself in PE. Andy was stuck in his office, filling paperwork after paperwork for a case he was assigned, and he'd asked Y/N to fetch Jacob from school. And she was happy to oblige.

Jacob might not be her son by blood, and he had been accused of murder, but she loved him anyway. They'd formed a unique maternal bond, and she wasn't willing to give it up for anything. Especially when Jacob accepted that she could become his step-mother at some point.

Y/N decided it'd be fun to take Jacob with her to work, considering her caseload was light, and no one minded having a teenager amongst them. Plus, Jacob had asked her how and what did she do her job, at one point. That's why she decided to buy a few snacks from the stall right outside hers and Andy's office building.

"What would you like to have bud?" She asked, smiling at him, gently holding him up as he was still suffering from partial paralysis in his left leg, from the car crash. Therapy had helped, both physically and mentally, however, it had taken two years before some feeling came back and he was able to flex his foot. However, the rest of the leg will take some time.

"I don't know, Ma... Everything looks so good, I can't decide. Am I even allowed?" Jacob asked, his eyes sparkling in a way that Y/N has only seen happen in Andy's eyes.

"Ofcourse, you're allowed, Silly! Don't tell your father that I'm letting you take two, though." She giggled conspiratorially.

"My lips are sealed." Jacob laughed, holding his crutch in one hand, while he mimed a zipper with the other.

He later picked one chocolate frosted, with chocolate chips on top, and one white frosted, with colorful sprinkles, for his donuts, along with one Mocha-latte. Y/N ordered her usual **F/P and ***F/C/D, and was in the process of paying when she heard, a motherly voice, she was definitely not in the mood to hear today.

"Jacob! Sweetie, you look so big! You've grown so much in the past two weeks..." Laurie cried, her hands on Jacob's shoulders, before she pulled him into a hug.

"Laurie, get your hands off of my son. You don't get to see him until this Saturday, you know that!" Y/N exclaimed, approaching them with fury. Her own protective motherly instincts had awoken at the sound of that woman's voice.

"Your son? Y/N surely you can't be serious. Jacob is, and always will be my son. I gave birth to him. I raised him. I protected and defended him, when no one else did!" Laurie shouted, making Jacob flinch. Y/N took hold of Jacob, gently freeing him from Laurie's clutches.

"Yeah, you did a mighty good job at that, when you tried to kill him by crashing that car." She said in an eerily calm way.

"Jacob go inside, and wait in the Lobby."

"If he died in that accident, then you'd have Andy all to yourself, you slut!" Laurie said, not caring who hears.

"You know that what happened wasn't an accident, Laurie. You pressured Jacob into confessing to something he didn't do, because that's all you believed." Y/N countered, causing Laurie to eat her words.

"You believed the worst in Jacob, and didn't care that he was innocent in all of it. And you think you deserve to be called a mother? You tried to kill him! Your own son. You don't deserve to be near Jacob or the rest of my family." She gasped, finally letting out all that she thought of Laurie in the past two years.

"If it were up to me, I'd deny you any of your parental rights. But I won't do that to Jacob, or Andy. Those two mean more to me than anything else in this world, and I will do whatever it takes to make them happy and safe." She sighed, a heavy weight lifting off of her shoulders.

"Now, go home, Laurie. Before I smack you with a restraining order. We'll see you this weekend, if you manage to stay away for that long..."

Y/N had won. She not only gave Laurie a piece of her mind, she had actually spoken a truth she knew to be true long before Andy and her had made themselves official. And as she sighed with even more relief, and turned around, she saw one handsome face and the face of a boy that's been through hell but was right there smiling, that couldn't help, but make her smile.

"Jacob and I mean more to you than anything, huh?" Andy shyly smiled, his teeth peeking through his lips.

"You do. More than you'll both ever know." Y/N replied, as she ran to the arms of her family. Content with the life she's built for herself, that's worth everything.

So, I may have gotten, little bit overboard with the request, and wrote my first ever Andy Barber fic, feat. Jacob Barber😅. I hope you don't mind, An🫶n. Your request was too good of an idea to pass up writing a full fic!🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

I also hope that this fic was a fun distraction from all this mess caused by certain people. And stay tuned, I'm not done writing yet. Because this was, sort of an energizer for me.😁

See you in the next one, my Fellow Fan Girls and Boys🫶

Chris Evans Characters Masterlist

Andy Barber Masterlist

#An🫶n asks #booky answers #booky reacts #booky's written works #chris evans fandom #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber x reader #andy barber smut #andy barber x you #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x divorce lawyer!reader #jacob barber x mother figure!y/n

[sunny-reis]

hi! can i request akito shinonome x reader where they get into an argument? maybe it takes them a few days to make up because akito is stubborn and reader is a bit shy and overthinks like "what if he doesnt want me anymore" or whatever. oneshot please..! thank you, and have a nice day!! dont write if you dont wanna :)

oneshot - post-argument tension w/ akito

i wish i never ever told you all about it, but i just had to let you know; never meant to hurt you, tho

notes: pjsk req woohoo 🤠 i'm not sure if you wanted them to make up after the whump so ,.,,.,. we ball lmao

tags: gender-neutral reader, you're friends with ena, an, and kohane

word count: 1,987

thirteen hours and twenty-six minutes.

that’s how long you’ve gone without hearing the familiar ding! of a message from akito. it’s almost half past nine now, you note, double-checking the small alarm clock on the side table by your bed. it's been more than half a day since you’ve talked to the redheaded idiot you call a boyfriend, and you can't help but be pissed (and worried sick, but you're too angry to think about that right now. he doesn't deserve my worry, you think).

it all started late yesterday, when he was supposed to come over to your place after his afternoon dance practice – the two of you had made plans to visit a cute new bakery opening on main street. needless to say, he completely ignored your texts and calls, replying hours later with a simple “sorry, i forgot. catch up with you later.” being human, you replied with a series of passive-aggressive texts, inevitably leading to an explosive argument. you sat on the couch for what felt like hours after, kicking around the stupid cow plushie he won you at a summer fair now on the ground. how hard is it to call ahead? or keep a stupid promise?

and so, here you are, listening to music in bed and staring emptily at the ceiling. a single thought floats around in your head: what the hell’s up with akito? he’s never been the type to be dry, not even on the numerous times when he's been frustrated out of his mind with schoolwork, or fed up with family politics and his dad. the night goes by slowly, and after far too much moping, you huff and sit up against the headboard. pausing your music, you open the messages app to (wishfully) check for a text from akito, only to be met with the same “hey aki, call me when you're free” you sent hours ago. sighing, you text the one person you think would know where he is: ena.

you - 10:32

hey ena !

is aki home? he won't reply to me

minutes later, a message bubble pops up.

enanan - 10:37

umm yeah

but he looked pretty tired when he came home an hour ago

you bite your nail, a force of habit; akito’s dance practice ends at 3:20 at the very latest. what on earth has he been doing for the past six hours?

you - 10:38

oh okay ;-;

ena - 10:38

did he say something to you?

i’ll kick his ass if he did something stupid

just say the word !!

you let out a small laugh, wrapping the covers tighter around yourself. count it on ena to keep him straight.

you - 10:39

nonono i was just overthinking !

poor guy’s probably exhausted :(

ena - 10:40

probably

get some rest though !! no man’s worth losing sleep over

you - 10:40

yeahhh i probably should

you too !!

ena - 10:41

eh i’ll try

night y/n :)

you - 10:41

nighttt

unfaithful to your words, you do not get some rest. instead, you spend far more time than you should mindlessly scrolling through anything and everything you can find on your phone to distract yourself from your thoughts, somehow ending up playing through a particularly spicy story on episode at two am. looking up from the dim screen, you sigh. ena’s right - no man’s worth losing sleep over. tapping furiously through the rest of the episode, you toss your phone under the pillow next to you and shut your eyes, trying to sleep.

although you managed to get a good six hours of sleep, you find your eyes shooting awake at 8:37 am. although it's the weekend, a sunday, you've become accustomed to waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to get ready. sitting up and stretching, you quietly pad down to the bathroom to fix yourself, being rid of last night's woes.

after a small breakfast of cereal and orange juice, you make a list of everything you plan to do today; an, a member of akito’s dance group and one of your closest friends, proposed you, ena, and kohane go out for lunch at one of the numerous cafes on main street. going outside definitely sounds better than sitting at home and sulking, so you set off to the cafe an send the address to at noon.

a little bell chimes as you open the door, instantly hit by the sweet aroma of various pastries on display. you see everything, from blueberry muffins to finely decorated cakes; your wallet feels lighter at the sight of them. making your way over to a table in the secluded corner where an waves at you, signature smile plastered on your face, you sit down on the booth. next to you sits ena, and across, an and kohane.

“hey, y/n, good to see you!” says ena, followed by a small wave from kohane.

“hello hello! i haven't seen you in a while, kohane, how’s everything going?” you ask, setting your bag down next to you.

“sorry,” she replies sheepishly, “we've been so busy with practice and school, i barely get the energy to catch up!”

“aw,” you frown, once again thinking about akito, “don't tire yourself out too much.”

“ah, it's only for a little bit! once we finish nail last routine, we’ll be done with practice and ready to perform!” an laughs; kohane only sighs.

“yeah, but it's so hard…toya and akito have been cooped up at the studio for ages, now. if it’s hard for them, imagine how hard it is for me!”

“hey, don't sell yourself short, kohane! i’ve seen the way you dance, you make it look so easy!” says ena, taking a sip of the her coffee. you nod in agreement.

“trust me, whatever you're doing is working! aki’s tried teaching me some moves – let's just say it didn't end well.” the four of you chatter away giddily until a waiter brings over a fancy rack of desserts to sample, courtesy of an. there are a humble few slices of cake, and far too many small treats you don't know the name of.

“wow, an, you sure have a keen eye for desserts!” says ena, happily finishing her coffee with a cat-shaped cookie.

“of course i do, i haven't been working at a cafe for nothing!”

“oh, you!”

a little while after you all finish, you say your goodbyes to an and kohane, leaving you an ena at scramble crossing.

“so…do you wanna walk around, or go back home? i have some time to kill.” she asks, the two of you crossing the road as the cars come to a halt.

“i’m fine with walking, i don't really have anything to do at home.” you shrug, checking your watch. it’s only 2:45 and the only thing waiting for you at home is a full washing machine, so you opt to wander around the city with ena.

somewhere around the local playground, the two of you have a heart-to-heart on the far-too-small swings.

“has everything been okay with you and akito?” she asks, leaning against the chain, “i feel like something’s up. you can talk to me about it if you want.” you sigh.

“well…kind of? i think he's been ignoring me and i’m really worried. i don't think i did anything to upset him, and he’s been really exhausted lately.”

“oh, yeah, he's been coming home later too. i don't blame him, really. i guess perfectionism is a family disease.”

“definitely,” you shake your head, “i'm not angry at him at all, but i feel…hurt.” she sits up alertly.

“why? did he say something?”

“no, no, that's the problem! he missed our date the other day, but he said sorry and we fought over text. i feel so bad, but i know i’m not being irrational, and he's ghosting me! we’ve fought before, but what if this is it?” ena mumbles under her breath, something about a “stupid kid”.

“you both really are perfect for each other, you know that?” you tilt your head in confusion.

“how so?”

“you're both so hard-headed,” she laughs, “and stupid, sometimes. although that's more him than you.”

“i guess so.”

“but seriously, let me talk to him at home. maybe then he’ll get the balls to apologize and it’ll all be okay again.”

“you don't need to get tangled up in this mess, ena, don't worry-”

“oh, shut up! no man is worth lowering your standards for, that applies to him, too! maybe it’ll do you both some good, too.”

“you're the best, really.” you say, squeezing her hand.

“oh, i know.” ena flounces; you laugh, getting off the swing and brushing the sand off your lap. the walk to your house is short, or so you assure ena, but she walks back with you anyways.

“don't worry about akito, okay? i’ll handle him.” she says, walking down the steps to your house. you nod, waving at her as she leaves. deep down, the two of you know that won't be happening – worrying about akito is a part of the package, so you’ve come to realize.

you decide to spend the rest of the day lazing around on the couch, snacking on popcorn as you binge chick flicks. as you subconsciously replay the events of the past two days in the back of your mind, the guilt settles in. you sit up, checking your phone for any messages and signs of life from akito, and flinching at the sudden brightness. looking around, the state of the living room is as pathetic as you feel. there are popcorn kernels where you tried (and failed) to throw them in the small trash can, pillows strewn all over the floor, blankets folded messily, each mess driving you crazier by the minute. pausing the movie, you sigh, getting up to clean whatever you see. although you still feel like garbage mentally, seeing the room decently clean makes you feel slightly better.

before you realize it, you're yawning and no longer paying attention to mean girls playing on the laptop in bed. sitting up and stretching, you set it on the nightstand, wrap yourself up in a blanket cocoon, and begin to fall asleep.

you're woken out of your peaceful slumber by the abrupt ring of the doorbell. rubbing your eyes, you pad to the front door, opening it to see none other than-

“aki? what are you doing here, it’s the middle of the night?” he’s drenched, clearly having walked here in the ongoing downpour behind him. how cliché. you let him in, helping him feel off his jacket and fetching him a towel.

“so, are we gonna talk about the elephant in the room?” you ask, sitting down next to him on the couch. he looks down at his feet.

“yeah, we probably should.”

“speak your peace, then, i’m listening.”

“well…i’m sorry i've been an ass,” akiro sighs, “everything’s been so overwhelming lately.”

“i’m sorry, too. i shouldn’t have been so passive-aggressive, it clearly only made things worse.” he shakes his head.

“no, i get it. i was in the wrong and i lashed out at you for no reason. i missed our date, too! i’ve been really shitty to you, you don't deserve any of that.”

“i understand why it happened, aki,” you say, giving him a small smile and grasping his hand in yours, “you can talk to me when things get rough, though, you know what.”

“i know, i know, and i'm sorry.”

“no use dwelling on the past now, i guess, yeah?”

akito nods, laying down on your lap; you play with his hair absentmindedly, listening to him mumble about his week. the weight on your chest is lifted just by the sight of him opening up to you again, and you feel much better.

“hey, aki, promise me something.”

“hm?”

“don't ghost me again, or i’ll kick your ass.”

#asks #reqs #anon #pjsk #akito x reader #akito imagines #akito oneshots #pjsk x reader

[ari4nee]

long ass chapter but i love reading long ones so i’m sorry! i wanted to set up a bit of gojo cuz i wanna do a plot with gojo, sukuna, and reader (get a bit of sukuna jealousy going). i’m gunna post the rest of the chapters i have on ao3 here as well.

also i’m trying to stay true to sukuna being not a great person at first. i love the soft sukuna fics but i just know this man would be an annoyance with a questionable attitude before opening up😭

Curse Me

Chapter 2:

Friday had rolled around faster than you wanted it to. You had dreaded the idea of going to the party suggested by Nobara earlier in the week. It wasn't so much the environment that stressed you as it was the thought of being around a bunch of college upperclassmen. Frankly the college party reputation wasn't a good one.

When lecture had ended, you hurried back to your apartment to stressfully put together an outfit. It had been months since you last had agreed to go out with everyone but you honestly liked your hermit lifestyle. I mean... You didn't know... maybe you were just trying to force yourself to enjoy the solitude. After all, you always did have a lot of fun when Yuji and Nobara managed to drag you out.

Your closet was filled with hoodies, leggings, sweats, and absolutely nothing you could excuse well enough to wear to a house party. The frustration appearing as a bead of sweat came across your forehead. 'This can not be this hard' you scolded yourself, ultimately deciding to leave the outfit as a later issue and begin doing your hair and make up.

Just as you found your focus - "your roommate is so much better than her weirdo twin" - a sudden voice startled you. Dropping your eyeliner pen with a scream, you to whip around to be face to face with Nobara.

"You're too spacey for your own good... someone might kidnap you one of these days", she adds wriggling her fingers and contorting her face into something odd looking. Before you say anything, Nobara reveals a cute black dress from her bag and lays it on your bed. You thank her, appreciating that she always manages to help you with fashion dilemmas.

You catch a glance at the clock behind her, 8pm it says. 'Damn it's getting late' you think looking back to see that Nobara is already heading out of your bedroom to wait for you in the living room.

"I'm going tell Maki to stop letting you in!" you yell, to which she replies, "yeah yeah put the dress on we gotta go."

The car ride took about 25 minutes from your apartment and during the small commute, it had already gotten dark outside. Nobara and Maki sat on either side of you. The girl on the left wore a black dress similar to yours with her brown hair tucked behind one of her ears. The girl on the right opted for black jeans and a cute tank top. Her green hair hung beautifully along her back as opposed to her normal ponytail and glasses combo. The three of you looked good and definitely felt good.

As the car pulled up to the already packed house, Maki put her hand on top of your anxious one as if to ease you. She was confident, and much like Megumi always took note of things that the others might miss.

Your roommate guided you and Nobara to the front door where the three of you were hastily greeted by an overexcited Yuji, an already unamused Megumi, and Satoru looming over the both of them like some lanky string bean. You exchanged greetings with your friends and turned to Satoru who you admittedly had not seen in a while.

Before you have time to react, the tall figure is pulling you in for a hug. "It's been so long since I've seen you" he says muffled while swaying you side to side. His tone screamed that Megumi was most likely mad at him and he was trying to get some sort of positive approval.

You glance to the scowling raven haired boy as he says, "he pretended he was my boyfriend when a girl asked me where the bathroom was". "Don't be so mean Megumiiiii I was trying to help, you seemed so stressed", Satoru slurred, already intoxicated despite everyone in the group agreeing that he should probably quit drinking. Megumi's face turns red, "You called her a HOMEWRECKER and I'm stressed because of you, Gojo". All you can let out is a hearty laugh as Satoru lets you go and cowardly stumbles into the next room. Hopefully with Satoru distracted Megumi can wind down and have some fun.

Peering around you notice that the house is crowded. There are a lot more unfamiliar people than you expected but you push the thought away because tonight was about having fun.

Wasting no time, Yuji and Nobara had dragged you over to the drinks and begun their own competition of sort. Everytime Megumi scowls at Satoru, you have to take a shot. (This will end in someone passed out on the floor). "You know he's not always miserable, you guys are going to give him premature grey hairs". The liquid courage had finally caught up to you as you down another drink.

After a few hours had passed and Nobara had dared Yuji to yet another drinking game, you decided to slip away. "Hey I have to use the washroom I'll be back", you shouted to your three friends and turned to maneuver your way through people towards the bathroom.

The flashing lights and boom of the music was overstimulating for your now slightly intoxicated state, but you were happy to finally be able to let some of your shyness disappear for the night.

Making your way upstairs, you kept your eyes embarrassingly low to the floor. There were couples making out all over the place and you didn't want to accidentally catch something that would make you uncomfortable.

That's when you came to a firm halt against someone's body as they exited the room you intended to head into. "Ow", you said stepping back looking up to make contact with the last person you had expected to see here. "Do you ever watch where your going or do you enjoy making yourself an inconvenience?" Sukuna grumbled, taking his right hand to slick his hair out of his face while gazing at you in disgust.

"You're the one that keeps hurting me you know", you say bolder than you intended. The height difference between you two made it feel like he was burning holes in the top of your skull.

"Oh so you do speak. I was beginning to think you were slow with how you could only speak to my brat of a brother", he growled.

It was weird seeing him outside of their house where he normally sported just sweats and lean muscles. He was dressed in a black hoodie that was just perfectly oversized sporting a logo you had never heard of. His tattoo's peaked through the collar and wrist bands of his hoodie as he moved his arm away from his hair. He wore black jeans with a rip in the knee that only slightly hugged his muscular legs, a silver chain that draped down his right thigh and battered pair of white shoes on his feet. The outfit was simple but screamed of obnoxiousness.

"Why are you here?" you drunkenly blurt out in response to his rude comment but immediately turn red.

You've barely ever spoken to him since you guys got older and this wasn't even your party to be asking him such a daring question. Come to think of it, Yuji did mention Sukuna went to college but you never knew where. This could have been his party for all you knew. Shit.

At this point you couldn't tell if the man before you would kill you for how you spoke to him. You were his bratty little brothers friend but considering how you'd fall into yourself with shyness anytime he so much as gazed in your direction, you thought maybe he'd excuse it. You really didn't want to have your own personal story about Sukuna emotionally terrorizing you too. Yuji was stronger than you in that regard.

Sukuna let his eyes trace your body before scoffing, "God you're fucking annoying". With one swift movement he harshly shoved past you to rejoin his friends. "He's such a fucking asshole", you murmur under your breath before using the bathroom and then going back to scout out your group.

Yuji and Nobara were continuing to drink each other to death. Satoru had himself placed in between a group of people, once again muttering on about 'kfc' and 'why Suguru couldn't just pick him'. Much to your surprise Megumi was sitting on the floor beside Maki and some of her friends. His cheeks as flushed as cherries laughing at Satoru's inability to move on from his ex. You mentally noted that Megumi seemed lighter - happier.

"I just saw your demon of a brother. I never thought he was willing enough to get off his throne and converse with us mere humans", you say approaching Yuji and his eyes widen thinking of whatever poor interaction could have happened with his moody brother and his best friend.

"Ugh yeah, I'm sorry, he comes to these parties a lot. He's friends with some of the older students as well... but I'm surprised he's here while Satoru is. Sukuna despises the fact that he always comes in second to that guy in all of their classes." You don't know why but you were surprised to hear that Sukuna went to the same college as everyone else, and even more so that he was so good at his studies; considering everything about him that seemed so delinquent-like. "Ughhhhh" he groans louder, "he usually brings girls home and I swear he's loud with them on purpose".

From where you're standing in the kitchen, both you and Yuji notice Sukuna in a room parallel to Satoru, with his hands ever so possessively wrapped around a girl.

A weird feeling shot through your body. There was something odd about having a crush on your friends older brother for years, and then when you finally talk to him, he's an asshole. But it's not like you didn't know he was an asshole, just some delusional fantasy of yours hoped he'd at least choke out something nice; but he barely does that even for Yuji anymore.

"I told you it's like he lives in my head and tries to do anything to gross me out. It's so traumatic", Yuji quickly flips him off before his brother notices and goes back to the game of beer pong he's playing with Nobara.

Your eyes stayed locked on the older Itadori brother as he towered over the smaller girl, eventually leaning in to kiss her. His jawline was sharp and every movement towards her seemed like it was routine. You wondered what it would feel like if you were in her place. If somehow, he walked up to you and confessed that all this time, he had noticed your growing body along with his. Confessed that when you weren't looking, he stole glances of the way your clothes fit you just right. That the reason he never joined you and Yuji in your endeavours was because he was too nervous and couldn't bring himself to confess to you. You let your mind wander, thinking about what Yuji said about the girls being loud and what it would feel like to be devoured by him.

But that was just fantasy.

You grabbed a shot that was waiting patiently on the counter that Yuji had poured for himself and swallowed it fast. 'I can't be thinking about that kind of stuff. He's your best friend that's weird', you thought hoping that the liquid would numb your mind of Sukuna.

Yuji wasn't stupid but he was none the wiser to your on and off crush on his brother. Thankfully, Sukuna's appearances in front of the both of you where he actually interacted saved you most of the time; so Yuji always chalked your awkwardness in front of him to your usual lack of social interest.

You couldn't help turn around to catch one more glance before you joined Megumi and the others. After all, it was weird seeing him in the wild. "He's an asshole-' your thoughts cut off when you notice Sukuna's eyes locked with yours, his hands paused dangerously close to being completely underneath the girls shirt.

'Time to go', you interjected yourself spinning around and rushing into the living room where Satoru held everyone's attention (this was his goal).

Satoru sported a pair of circular sunglasses that he rarely took off, unless of course, when he was purposefully trying to show off his ocean blue eyes and beautifully long white eyelashes. You weren't close enough with him to know if he was fibbing about having sensitive eyes but Megumi never teased him about it, so you settled that it wasn't him just being weird.

His shaggy white hair fell gracefully just above his eyes; Satoru was attractive in his own right.

He stood at 6'3 and his limbs, while lanky, carried firm muscles that you could only assume he'd been carving for years. His face was chiseled but soft at the same time - he never seemed to get angry. If Sukuna was a demon, Satoru was an angel.

The white haired boy cooed your name as you entered the room, shuffling on the couch to make room for you to sit. "What's going on over here?", you asked cutely while taking your spot beside the older boy. Megumi with flushed cheeks began to giggle, surprised as if he had meant to hold it in and keep his calm and cool composure. "Suguru is here" he mouthed at you pointing behind him to a crowd of people. Ahhh that's why Satoru was drunkenly blubbering. You chose not to say anything as to not trigger anymore emotional responses from the boy you sat beside, but instead placed your head on his shoulder as a sign of comfort. He played with your hair in response. Satoru was quite easy to get comfortable with.

Yuji and Nobara had soon followed you into the crowded living room where only your group sat in the midst of the intoxicated dancing. If you were sober you'd realize how silly it all looked but as of right now, you were impressed that everyone was suddenly so good.

"You guys are bumming me out get upppppp", Nobara whined grabbing Maki's hand pulling her upright, followed by Megumi, then Toge, then you, and last Satoru.

You danced for a while until your head grew hot and you couldn't help but wonder if Sukuna had already left with that girl.

Satoru had found himself entangled with some classmate, dumping his emotional constipation into making out with her against a wall. Megumi once told you that despite seeming like a player, Satoru rarely ever had others over. As much as they joked, the breakup left him with a lot of scars that even he struggled to pull from his mentor.

The others seemed distracted enough that you could slip away unnoticed for some fresh air. The back door wasn't far from the living room so you carefully stepped outside to be greeted by two people smoking, one passed out on the ground, and none other than Yuji's older brother sprawled out on a lawn chair like an entitled cat scrolling through his phone.

'He's still here?' you questioned to yourself, contemplating turning back into the house. 'He's usually peacocking around places like he owns it, why is he chilling here?'. Just as you grabbed the sliding door handle, Sukuna called your name without looking up from the device. You didn't move closer to him and you didn't respond. The alcohol in your system had begun to disappear and with that, came the resurgence of your social anxiety.

"Would you fucking come here", he added with a sigh. The couple smoking giving you a concerned look before disappearing into the party once again. You moved towards him and sat down on the lawn chair across from his tall body. You felt awkward to say the least - although you really shouldn't. There was a time where he didn't cause you to lose your words or blush when you saw his bare chest as he exited the shower. There was a time where he was just Yuji's brother.

"Caught you staring at me earlier" he said deadpan. You sat silently watching his hands enter his pocket and pull out a cigarette. His long, slender fingers held the smoke in front of his mouth as he slowly ran his tongue over his lips to moisten them.

"I was just surprised to see you here, nothing else", quietly implying that you had no interest in the conversation at hand, or his antics with the girl. He smirked and lit the cigarette drawing in a long inhale of smoke.

You couldn't help but notice how attractive he was in the moonlight. Something always seemed so dangerously off limits about him but your anxiety and the fact that your best friend would kill you, always halted you in your tracks whenever you thought about him like this.

"This is my school and my friends party, why wouldn't I be here, sweetheart?", his words were kinder than before yet he still spoke to you like you were a bother to him. Like the great King Sukuna had better things to be doing even though he was the one to call you over after you ran into him. He took another long drag of the cigarette before it had run out completely.

Little to your knowledge, he had always known you to be like this - never saying more than you needed to him and blushing whenever he looked at you to say hi. He had caught you multiple times staring at his body like an excited school girl when he strutted out of the shower knowing you were watching. As you got older, he took note of how skittish you were around him. Partially because of his own carelessness with his reputation and also because he knew you had begun to notice him.

He didn't care too much to do anything because he knew he wasn't secretly in love with you or something stupid like that, but seeing that bastard Gojo with his hand in your hair angered him. You had been coming around his house for the longest time and were friends with his brother. Therefore by extension, you were his, even if he had no intention of ever caring about you.

"Like what you saw?", he teased referencing to what he was doing when you were eyeing him earlier that night. You felt your cheeks burn but you didn't reply and a sly grin tugged at his lips, "how cute".

His pink hair seemed softer in this lighting but his facial features remained hard as ever. He licked his plump lips again as he grabbed your jaw harshly, "you really do look good tonight". His eyes watched for your reaction to the sudden display that was so out of character for his usual mean self. However, he was still being mean, just in a way you weren't used to.

You just wanted to go back inside, maybe take some more shots with the others, and sink into the couch to disappear from his gaze. You always much preferred when you were able to admire him from afar or where his attention wasn't solely directed onto you. Your frustration built up in your face as the person you had grown up with humiliated you so easily.

"What's got you acting so kind? Weren't you just giving me shit upstairs you ass", you asked with a rather snarky tone.

"Watch yourself", he squeezed your jaw a little harder eyeing you as if he was studying your face for the first time ever. Something in his eyes gave away that he was pleased. A ding erupted from his phone and his gaze lowered to see that the girl from earlier had been rapidly texting him that she was ready to leave.

Sukuna stood up and walked to the door of the house, "don't stutter yourself to death trying to act like you can have an attitude with me just because you know me". He brushed his shaggy pink hair hair out of his face with a scowl and then left.

You joined your friends once again, checking the clock to see that it was only 1:30am and sighing because these parties usually lasted a lot longer.

Plopping yourself down on the couch, you took note of how the cushions hugged around your body. The few shots you had just taken warmed you up from being outside in a dress but the goosebumps on your legs persisted.

Gritting your teeth, you wanted to tell Yuji his brother was a freak and that you hated him so much; but at the same time you had been so drawn to him that the way he gripped your jaw made you feel good.

It didn't take long for Nobara to pull you off the cushions drunkenly mumbling about how it was a party and you couldn't just sit on the couch all night. Yuji was dancing so horrendously bad it made Megumi laugh the most genuine laugh you had heard from him in a while. Grabbing Nobara's hand, you joined in on the dancing and allowed your mind to be free of whatever the hell that was.

At some point while you were gone, Satoru had pried himself away from the girl he was with and stumbled back over to Megumi. His cheeks flushed vibrantly contrasting his pale skin and white hair. Sunglasses laying a top his head, occasionally having to pick them back up whenever they'd fall because of the aggressiveness of his dancing.

You searched for more familiar faces but deduced that Maki had probably went home with Toge. Those two never had a desire to stick around late the way the others did. This was confirmed when you noticed a text 30 minutes ago from Maki that said "see you later. get home safe xo".

When it was objectively late enough, the group left the party and made their way back to Yuji's as he was the closest to your current location. The walk was filled with laughter, stupid attempts to trip one another, and horrible outbursts of their favourite songs. You were sure the neighbours would complain.

About halfway there, Satoru slipped away to go home but insisted Megumi not worry about him and go have fun with the rest of us. He waved his phone implying that if anyone needed anything, you could always call. Normally, Megumi would protest at Satoru's clumsiness or likeliness to get himself into trouble and head home as well. But this time, Megumi caught a familiar sad glimpse in Satoru's face that meant he wanted to be alone and that he was ok. You caught this as well but decided not to ask about the relationship that seemed to damage this otherwise carefree person so badly.

Emotionally and academically, he was the strongest of all of you, but something behind his angel complexion and gentle eyes screamed that he was hurting. You chuckled to yourself thinking about how everyone in this little group of yours had some pain they couldn't escape from. Maybe that's why we all found it so easy to be around each other? In a morbid way, you all understood how truly fucked up life was.

The silence of Yuji's house was broken by four drunk college students laughing and whispering in a way that was actually yelling. You were the first to make yourself a snack, screaming at Yuji to make his own when he took the food from you. Nobara laughed and punched his arm as he followed in pursuit of Megumi who was busy setting up a sleeping spot for you all in the basement. Leaving you and Nobara smiling to each other in the kitchen while you made another meal.

You hugged her and smiled, "I'm glad I came out". She gave you a few thanks for joining them and complimented how 'stunning you looked in that dress all night'. After exchanging a few words and changing into some clothes Yuji set out, Nobara tiredly joined the boys in the basement to crash.

You stayed sitting at the kitchen island for a moment thinking about everything that had happened until the voices from downstairs faded into nothing but an occasional snore.

The house was dark enough that you didn't notice Sukuna creep up behind you, let alone even leave his room. His tall figure was leaned up against the kitchen island staring at you intently until you noticed his presence. As you turned around, you let out a yelp, heart pounding out of your chest from being startled, "will I ever run into you in a peaceful way?".

His hair fell over his forehead still damp from the shower he had taken. Even with no shirt on, he smelled strongly of clean laundry, soap, and spice. His sweats complimented the way his waist tapered inwards just to expand again at the muscle of his legs. 'He definitely developed more muscles this year', you thought to yourself keeping your gaze from meeting his firm chest and the slightly protruding abs on his stomach. He tapped the counter with his index finger chucking to himself at the way you avoided looking at his body.

"Are you allergic to shirts?", you ask while he looks down at himself, satisfied with the work he had put into looking like this. “I have nothing to hide why would I care?"

‘God he's so cocky it's obnoxious.’

You didn't reply. You already knew how he thought of himself as some Greek God waiting to be worshipped. How he genuinely felt no shame in the way he thought he was better than everyone else. A comment from you would just stroke his already enormous ego. While a part of it irked you, it would be a lie to say you didn't find his unapologetic narcissism attractive. He never had a second thought about doing whatever he wanted to.

Sukuna’s glowing red eyes travelled up and down your body; eyeing the curves emphasized by the dress you had on. You could tell he shamelessly enjoyed this image in comparison to the overly large clothes you normally wear when coming over.

"Don't you have that girl to go bother?" Your voice was quiet. You wanted to collapse into yourself because he was blocking the exit to the kitchen and your only escape back to the comfort of your friends. You thought maybe you screwed up somehow? This amount of attention from Yuji's older brother was unheard of, especially regarding you. What did you do to get so high on his radar? Why was he all of the sudden looking at you with an unfamiliar hunger?

"Kicked her out hours ago", he shrugged glancing to his room where a soft light was glowing from underneath the door, taunting you. He turned back to you with a stupid smirk, "wanna see?". Sukuna didn’t move for a moment while watching you mentally squirm under his words.

"I'm okay", you said while trying to hide the faint shade of pink creep along your cheeks. Unsure of how to navigate these new interactions, you aired on the side of caution while talking to him. He seemed more menacing than usual tonight, which said a lot, and your thoughts consistently bounced between intimidated and the crush you once had. (Maybe still had). The eery glow coming from his room and the way his large body casted a shadow on the ground unsettled you, yet the silence continued. His eyes watched you carefully, possibly offended by your refusal but too proud to let it show.

With most girls, if Sukuna had sensed any sort of hesitation in their ‘no’, or saw their eyes sheepishly dart to his bedroom, he would have already pushed himself against them and begun to take what he knew was already his. He’d usually make those girls regret trying to suppress the fleeting look of desire for him that left their face as quickly as it appeared; the same look you had just given him. All consensual, just some needed a little reassurance that he wouldn’t break their heart, which he’d eventually do anyway just from getting bored.

He contemplated what would happen if he did it now. Not giving you enough to pleasure you but enough to tease you until you were hot and gave into his request. Following him into his room like a drooling puppy all too willing to get her treat. But he wanted to savour this one, it was more fun to watch them crumble over time anyways. And you being a family friend made his usual playboy manners towards women more difficult.

Sukuna scoffed and turned around to head back towards his room, leaving you confused at his sudden displays of attention. You watched him open the door and his frame become engulfed in a soft red LED light. You couldn’t see inside but you wondered how much his space had changed since you last saw it as children? He didn’t face you again before closing the door and muttering, "call me if you can't sleep, sweetheart”.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #big brother sukuna #jjk x reader

[missmaywemeetagain]

I posted 424 times in 2022

That's 212 more posts than 2021!

206 posts created (49%)

218 posts reblogged (51%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@troubleinapinksuit

@powerofelvis

@aconflagrationofmyown

@heartbrake-hotel

@karamelcoveredolicity

I tagged 396 of my posts in 2022

Only 7% of my posts had no tags

#elvis - 337 posts

#elvis presley - 335 posts

#you came to the right place - 311 posts

#if you’re looking for trouble - 301 posts

#elvis 2022 - 263 posts

#elvis movie - 243 posts

#elvis presley x reader - 181 posts

#elvis x reader - 172 posts

#austin butler elvis - 171 posts

#pink scarf - 147 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#i will never get over the double entendre when he sings 'you can't lick it' and then he has the audacity to chuckle at it during the song

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Pink Scarf - Part 2 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.  [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Cussing. Infidelity. Angsty tension. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline. This part is rather tame. but the others definitely won't be. 

Rating: PG-13 (but this story will be very NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)   ||     Word Count: 3250

A/N: Thank you so much for your support of Pink Scarf - Part 1 and for your patience as I got Part 2 ready for you! I'm sorry in advance...Part 2 got way too long because I'm apparently incapable of writing something like this without building the sexual tension for days, so I split it up, meaning the smutty smut won't be until Part 3, but I pinky promise it's coming!! I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat!

Let me know in the comments what you think and if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch!

PINK SCARF - PART 2

You’re not sure if it’s been hours or mere minutes when the phone shrills next to you, causing you to gasp and practically jump out of your skin. You’ve been lying in bed, attempting to sleep, but as tired as you are, your thoughts snap back to those intensely gorgeous blue eyes again and again. Perhaps you were dreaming after all, because the way those eyes turned from playful to darkened lust when looking at you couldn’t possibly be real.

You blink rapidly, pulling yourself out of the haze between dreaming and wakefulness, clawing for the phone receiver, anything to make the high-pitched sound stop.

“Hello?” you breathe out.

“Hey, y/n, it’s Jerry,” he says softly, as if realizing you are not quite conscious.

“Jerry…is everything okay?” you ask, sitting up, your sudden concern clearing your head a bit. Jerry had always been kind to you over the years, a decent friend to both you and Jack, though his loyalty was always to Elvis, first and foremost.  

“Yeah, no, everything is fine. Uh, just, well…EP wants to see you,” he says, almost apprehensively.

“What?” You couldn’t have heard him correctly.

“Elvis wants you to come up,” Jerry repeats, more slowly.

You look at the clock. It’s so late that it’s early, but that is nothing new—the King of Rock and Roll lives by his own schedule, his own rules. Living life at night is a strangely normal thing.

What is unusual is him calling for you alone.

“Y/n? You there?” Jerry asks.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, Jer,” you shake your head as if to clear it, “I, uh, I’ll be right up. Oh, and Jerry?”

“Yeah?”

“Is Jack up there with you?”

Jerry’s hesitation tells you all you need to know. “Uh…no, he’s not, y/n,” he says with an apology in his voice.

“Okay, thanks,” you reply with a sigh, as you put the phone back on the cradle. Your thoughts bounce from the frustration and sadness of Jack’s obvious absence back to Elvis wanting to see you and the reasons for why that might be.

Jerry didn’t have to tell you that Elvis didn’t want to be kept waiting, so in your haze of half sleep and complicated thoughts, you throw your satiny robe on over your nightgown, sliding your feet into your ridiculously fuzzy slippers, grab your key, and race out the door.

Trepidation fills your heart as you ride the elevator up to the penthouse. Something feels off. You’ve been up here before, and you literally live at Graceland, but this feels different. You feel on edge, like you’re on a precipice, about to fall into the molten cauldron of a volcano.

You knock, then suddenly realize you’ve raced up here without so much as a glance in the mirror. Frantically, you smooth your hair, then give up. Elvis calls you up at this hour, he gets what he gets. Tired, frustrated (in more ways than one), and stubborn is what he gets, you think, crossing your arms over your chest.

See the full post

563 notes - Posted August 17, 2022

#4

Pink Scarf - PART 3! (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.  [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Sex. Oral (f receiving). Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.  

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)   ||     Word Count: 2611

A/N: The smut is finally here, y'all! I'm gonna be totally honest--I've never put smut on public display before, so I really hope it's okay/readable. Thank you again for all your support, reblogs, and comments--they sincerely make my day so much better and keep me excited about writing! Just so you know, Part 4 will be a smutty continuation of Part 3, if y'all want it...

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat!

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

The knock at the door startles you and you sit up straight, your heart pounding so hard it shakes your ribcage.

Relax. There’s no way. He wouldn’t leave the penthouse…he never goes anywhere without the entourage. He probably just sent Jerry down to check on me, you try and convince yourself, but the pounding of your heart does not subside.

The knock comes again, sharp and insistent, prompting you to warily make your way to the door and open it.

Elvis.

Your heart stops.

Elvis stands there, leaning against the doorjamb, with ferocity in his eyes before pushing his way into the room.

You barely have time to be surprised as you stumble backwards to counter his advance.

“Honey, we weren’t done talkin’,” he says sternly. His annoyance is obvious in the way he is clenching his jaw and his eyes are narrowed.

Your mouth opens and closes but no words come out. You cannot believe he followed you down here.

“I don’t like hearin’ you’re unhappy, y/n, so I’m settlin’ to fix that.” His accent is stronger than usual, tainted with his frustration. He shakes his finger at you, that signature gold bracelet of his, the one encrusted with diamonds that spell out his name, glinting in the lamplight.

You suppose you should feel angry yourself, with him barging in here like this, but instead, his hotheadedness is making you feel something else entirely.

“And how exactly are you gonna do that, Elvis? How are you gonna make me happy?” you finally speak, the challenge coming out sultry, your breathing quickening. You are shocked at your own boldness, but that coil in your belly has wound its way into your mind, dampening your usual propriety and common sense.

He steps towards you, but this time you don’t back up, only raising your eyes to meet his. The annoyance in his eyes transforms into that heated, dangerous look from earlier, blackening his usually bright irises.

His long pointer finger raises up to trace the lightning bolt on the gold and diamond TLC necklace you’d forgotten is still hanging around your neck, the necklace he’s given you that marks you as one of the elite women in the inner circle around him. The necklace which you almost never take off.

“I take care of what’s mine,” Elvis says, voice deep and vibrating. The implication is clear, sending a pleasurable shudder down your spine.

You know you are off the rails now. Every cell in your body is screaming for him, his touch. Your breath is shallow, quick, waiting for his next move. And all your concerns and objections from earlier are burned away, forgotten, buried somewhere deep below the spell he has you under.

But when you look into his eyes now, all you see is fire, well controlled fire, which sends a thrill into your belly. Those blazing eyes never leave yours as he slowly pulls on the tie of your robe, undoing the knot, letting it fall open. The room’s cool air rolls over your warm body, sending a visible, trembling shiver through you. He gently pushes the robe over your shoulders, watching as it slips down your arms, finally pooling at your feet.

His fingers, calloused from so many years of guitar playing, flit over your collarbone and down your bare arm, his thumb brushing the satiny fabric of your nightgown along the way. Your heart flutters at the contact, starved for him, but unable to move. Gooseflesh rises on your skin, both from the cold of the heavily air-conditioned room and from the sensation of his touch.

It does not go unnoticed that your nipples have hardened under the thin fabric. Elvis smiles a coy little smile, his hands finding your waist, and then he walks you backwards, bringing you with him to the edge of the bed. He pulls you down onto the bed with him so smoothly, you barely have time to register the change because you are so focused on the heated way he’s looking at you.

His lips meet yours at the same exact moment he trails those fingers deftly over the satin, over the hard bud of your nipple, causing your mouth to open to him as your body arches up, desperate for his touch. He sucks briefly at your bottom lip and your entire body is dowsed in heat.

See the full post

591 notes - Posted August 19, 2022

#3

Pink Scarf - PART 6! (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.  [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: SEX. Some of it is on the rougher side. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.  

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)        ||     Word Count: 6858

A/N: This part is HUGE, y'all, a monster! So much is happening. I'm sorry, I just could not for the life of me pair it down or find a good place to break it up, so I'm hoping you're all okay with the ginormous size of this part!

And y'all-- your reactions, reblogs, messages, and comments--I couldn't believe what an amazing response I got for Part 5, like I actually teared up, no lie. I can't tell you how glad I am that you are rooting for our reader and falling in love with/getting hot for EP as much as I am as you read! I hope you like this part, too, cuz I've got some good stuff planned for them coming ahead. (I'm a sucker for angst and tension, if you can't tell!)

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks since now I know how they work lol)! I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues.

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat! 

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch. 

(Listen, I chose this picture for very specific reasons for this part, so enjoy!)

The secret of it thrills you now, sitting there in the round booth with the other ladies before the show begins. The scarf still smells like Elvis, and each time you catch a whiff, it reminds you of his skin on yours. You smile inwardly at the thought.

You’ve shoved your earlier humiliation down as far as it will go, choosing to not let Jack ruin your night. Nothing really has changed, you convince yourself, things are only confirmed. You didn’t tell the others what happened, instead overcompensating, throwing yourself into having a good time, fueled by anticipation from the pink silk knotted around your neck and what might happen when Elvis sees it.

Finally, the lights go down and the crowd cheers. The Sweet Inspirations were a wonderful opening act, but you all know who you are really here for. The band starts playing and you feel your heart rate increase. The entire room is excited, though a nervousness underlies your own excitement. What if he doesn’t notice? What if it was all an act to placate you? What if he’s changed his mind?

You can’t dwell too much on it because Elvis enters and the room goes wild. He walks on the stage, in all black tonight, looking like a panther stalking the jungle, and you have to keep yourself from jumping out of your seat. Your heart hits your stomach at just how incredible he looks, and even though you can sense an initial nervousness in him the first few songs, he captivates the crowd immediately. He runs through all his old hits before heading into a breathless and charming monologue about how he ended up here, and somehow, he has you just as mesmerized, if not more, than the rest of the ladies in the audience.

He's obviously in good spirits, laughing frequently as he messes around with Charlie and the backup singers, changing the lyrics to some of his old hits to funny or naughty things, making the raucous, well-imbibed midnight audience laugh with him. You don’t think you’ll ever get over how he commands such a large room with ease, making every person feel seen even though they are just a sea of faces.

His voice sounds good, though maybe a bit tired with it being the second show of the night. He doesn’t let it affect his performance one bit, however. He is as energetic as ever and you become increasingly distracted by the way his body moves up there, thrusting in time with the drums, your mind unable to forget how he was doing the same to you less than 48 hours ago.

Heat flushes your body as you desperately squeeze your thighs together, because the more his baritone croons and the more he moves, the more you can picture him, feel him, on top of you. You are struck by how similar his performance seems to those intimate moments, just how turned on he looks playing and singing up there in front of the crowd. That mischievous glint in his eyes, the way his jaw clenches, how his lips pull, and that damn gritty whine in his voice the further up he goes in pitch—it all feels so very seductive. Even his fast, even vibrato has you shifting in your seat. You are thankful for the darkened room because you know your cheeks must be on fire and you can’t blame the unfinished martini sitting in front of you on the table.

You cannot tear your eyes from him, drinking in every inch, so captivated that you barely register when he brings the lights up to kiss his way through the audience during a rendition of Love Me Tender. Part of you feels a little jealous of all the girls, but as Elvis comes closer and closer, your heart speeds up and all you wonder is if he will have a chance to see you through the sea of women surrounding him. You fear he won’t, and prepare yourself for disappointment, reminding yourself that you’ll have access to him after the show anyway.

You need not have worried because he seems to sense you through the crowd, his blue eyes finding yours instantly as he nears the table. It is only for a second, as the barrage around him is intense, but his eyes flit down to the scarf and back up to your face, giving you a small grin and a wink before being consumed by the crowd once again.

You sit on your hands to keep yourself from leaping from your seat and attacking him right there and then. Just a few nights ago, you would’ve been absolutely mortified at this reaction to Elvis, but after everything that’s happened in the last few days, you can’t bring yourself to care, instead letting yourself get swept up by the feelings in your body. The heat flowing through you is intense, and you can’t seem to catch your breath. He saw you, alright, and now all you have to do is wait.

Which is easier said than done because your body is already ridiculously aroused. The more he sings and the more you watch, the more wetness pools between your legs. You have never in your life been aroused in a room full of people, and the more you try not to think about him, the worse it gets because he is right there, looking like that, seducing you without even trying.

Finally, he begins Can’t Help Falling in Love, bringing the show to a close, and Sonny rushes out to usher you all away from the table and get you backstage before it ends. You can’t help but fiddle with the scarf and the TLC necklace beneath it, both of which mark you as Elvis’, as you wait to see him.

You become increasingly aware, however, that you need to keep cool. Everyone is milling about, so any glances or words could be seen or heard easily. However, Jack is paying no attention to you whatsoever, making you somewhat infuriated but not surprised (though if he did pay attention to you in this moment, you might slap him in the face, so it’s probably better this way, you think). Pushing that aside, nervousness, laced with a little excitement at the danger of it, floods through you. It is all forgotten the moment you see Elvis walking towards all of you. You stand as casually as possible, attempting to make conversation with the ladies around you, waiting patiently as he greets everyone backstage.

He is drenched in sweat, blotting himself periodically with the towel around his neck as he slowly makes his way through the group. You feel that magnetic pull towards him as he lightly hugs everyone, a need that has your limbs tingling and forcing yourself to stand still. Then finally he gets to you, pulling you a little tighter, his hand gripping at your waist. You circle your hands to his back, the heat of his exertion rolling off him in waves, and you are overwhelmed by being so close to him again.

“Great show, E,” you manage to say breathlessly as he brings you closer.

He leans in quickly. “Wait for Jerry, baby,” he whispers so quiet in your ear, you almost question that he spoke at all.

Shivers rush through you, both in acknowledgement and anticipation. You squeeze him in a silent reply before he moves along.

See the full post

651 notes - Posted August 27, 2022

#2

Pink Scarf - Part 1 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda??

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.  [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Brief talk of alcohol and drug use. Cussing. Mentions of infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline. This part is rather tame. but the others definitely won't be.

Rating: PG (ish?) (but this story will be very NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)   ||     Word Count: 3172

A/N: It's been a long time, baby! I am rather nervous about posting this because it's been so damn long since I've put my writing out there, but since Black Suit/Pink Scarf Elvis has us all in a chokehold, I figured I should get it out there, so I really hope you enjoy it! I imagined it with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat! If y'all like it, I've got a very smutty part 2 in the works...

I've linked the song Power of My Love that is referenced in the story, and I highly recommend giving it a listen to get the full effect of the moment.

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch. I'm honestly trying to get this out into the world as quickly as possible before I chicken out, lol. I've never written a reader fic before, but here we are!

PINK SCARF - PART 1

You can’t take your eyes off him. They keep drifting to him like the pull of a magnet. You want to stop, you really do. You catch yourself and force your gaze back down to the drink you’ve been nursing for the better part of an hour.

Elvis Presley is a supernova. Every bit of him is lit up, shaking hands, telling jokes, drawing people into his radiance. You’ve never quite seen him this way, not like this. He is absolutely glowing after his performance, and you know why. You finally get it after seeing him live tonight.

It scares you a little, how captivated you are. He’d been so alluring, his voice smooth like butter but a little gritty around the edges, strong, deep, supported. You’ve heard him sing a million times, but with that band and the fuel of the crowd, it shook you to you core. Every word resonated with you, his dynamics and skill showing what a master he is of his craft.

Not many people could pull off a white jumpsuit, but he looked incredible—trim, tan, fit—doing his karate stretches on stage. Between that and his crooning, deep baritone, not one woman (and some of the men, to be sure) in that audience stood a chance. Even when the sweat began pouring down his face, you found yourself feeling things you didn’t want to feel.

You’d watched as prim and proper ladies fell apart at his feet. Part of it was hysterically funny to you, but another part understood that deep, biological need to be in his presence.

You’d always known that, no matter how much you’d pushed those feelings away.

You swirl your drink again, watching the last bits of ice melt, taking a small sip.

You knew how nervous Elvis had been about tonight, beneath all the bravado and jokes. You’d sensed it in his opening moments, his legs vibrating so quickly he could’ve taken off in flight, but the roar of the crowd had given him back what he needed most, that deep confidence of performing that had been buried under terrible, low budget movies for the last decade. It had been magical to watch.

Despite yourself, your gaze finds him again in the crowd. His breathy, musical laugh echoes across the room. It’s a beautiful sound, especially after years of his more moody, depressed state as he was being drained dry creatively. But tonight, his 1,000-megawatt smile lights up the room.

And, god help you, that tailored black suit with the high collar, with no shirt underneath, just a silky black and pink scarf over his bronze chest has you shifting in your seat a little to try and quell the warmth low in your belly.

Jesus, get a grip.

He just looks so fucking amazing, and with that natural charisma of his oozing out of his pores, even you aren’t immune to it. It is frustrating, in more ways than one.

Elvis suddenly looks at you, catching your stare. Those dreamy deep blue eyes sparkle and lock on you, but you look away quickly, blushing despite yourself, turning back to your watered-down cocktail. Your heart flips in your chest, which pisses you off. You’re an adult woman, for god’s sake, not a teenager. An adult married woman, for that matter.

You scoff bitterly at that thought. You wouldn’t really call what you were living with a true marriage. Marriage required two people to actually be in the same room, to actually communicate. Marriage seemed like a make-believe fairytale to you now, after all this time. You barely remember what it was like to feel happy around Jack.

Speaking of, you are alone at the bar, Jack nowhere to be found. Your husband has been part of Elvis’ inner circle forever, one of his early friends who remembered the days before he was a superstar. An integral part of the Memphis Mafia, helping keep the strange life of the world’s first superstar on track and less lonely.

You knew of the rumors, about the girls that frequented the house in Los Angeles. You tried not to dwell on it, but part of you hated Elvis a little for it. If not for him, you might have a normal, fulfilled marriage. Instead, you have a husband who is around a fraction of the time and when he is around, he’s either intoxicated with some substance or bending to EP’s every little whim. Not to mention the lipstick marks left on his clothes and the way he barely even hides the fact that he’s screwing around anymore.

Sometimes you cursed the day you met Elvis Presley.

Good, you think. The anger is tempering the swell of unwanted feelings you’re having for the man. And Elvis is just a man, after all, you remind yourself.

You’d been amazed by him in those early days, meeting the great Elvis Presley and being brought into his inner circle. It was like a dream. And he was every bit as magical as he appeared to be, though also surprisingly down to earth and generous. The gifts—jewelry, cars, the housing at Graceland—were unbelievable. And the man was insanely charming, friendly, and smart, making you feel like a part of the family. He’d even been in your wedding, for god’s sake.

See the full post

851 notes - Posted August 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

See the full post

854 notes - Posted August 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #so much pink scarf #I’m shocked 😂😏😇 #elvis #elvis presley #if you’re looking for trouble #you came to the right place #elvis presley x reader #pink scarf #my pink scarf era 💗🧣💗

[builder051]

Everything matters

We fit like an enfit (Tube 'verse)

This one is Steve in hospital directly post-colectomy. I have had this exact procedure done to exactly these results. This is James's POV. Some swearing, some medical lingo, and emeto.

----------------------------

Steve's been through the wringer these last two days. Washer and dryer. Extra hot. Bleached. Sanitized. To hospital quality standards.

Because that's exactly where they are. And that's exactly where they're going to stay.

The beginning, Steve's exit from the PACU, had been downright frightening. Steve looked tiny and pale, and still attached to so many tubes. James Jumped up and followed the rolling bed straight to the floor, one specifically dedicated to patients recovering from gastric surgeries.

How many people are they doing this to? James had thought. The hallway was long, and the room, though private, wasn't spacious.

Steve blinked slowly into consciousness about half an hour after his nurse and transport team had abandoned them, and then promptly threw up all over his white bedding. Then all over James, who didn't realize the emesis basin and a stack of kidney dishes were actually behind him.

The nurse came in before either one of them could find the call button, for the racket of retching and shouting had apparently been audible from the hallway. James apologized for being deaf and loud. Steve backed him up with a sigh that turned into a burp that turned into a sticky, stringy hand.

A parade of techs and MAs entered and exit edthe room, getting Steve's blood pressure, changing his bedding without moving him out of it, providing a plethora of triangular graduated cylinders to collect further vomit.

Then what are all those other fucking bowls and dishes for? James wondered. Once everyone else is had gone and it was just him and Steve again, James quickly stripped off his stained shirt and zipped up his hoodie over a bare chest. As much love as he has for Steeve, James wasn't going to smell of bile all day.

"Ha," Steve had murmured, wincing as pushing out vocalizations forced chest rise. "Good idea."

"Press your morphine button." James pointed to the cord dangling half off the bed, then to the pole carrying the rest of the setup for Steve's epidural.

"It's ok--" But Steve cut himself off with a gag that brought up a trickle of something vaguely the color of Sunny D. That made James wince, too.

"See?" Jame lifted the cord and settled the push button in James's hand. "You're entitled to medicine. Every 15 minutes, even. I don't want to watch you be in pain."

"I don't want you to watch me keep throwing up," Steve replies in what can only be described as a pitiful whine.

"I'm sorry that keeps happening." James moved his chair as close to the bed as possible. He could barely reach far enough to put his hand on Steve's foot. "I'm with you till bedtime. Then I gotta go to work."

When the night nurse came to sedate Steve on another round on pain meds, he left as quickly and graciously as he could. James had had his own encounters with narcotics. Good, bad, necessary, non... He still wasn't sure where he stood. He was also going to be late for the start of the overnight shift if he kept standing and didn't scram.

Even though James watched the clock emphatically, refrigerator boxes have never seemed lighter. He barely had to push the dolly to ferry one across the warehouse. Sometimes everyone joked about the man with one arm trying to keep up with the rest of them, but that night, even if nobody was watching, it was true.

Well, it wasn't, exactly. James surpassed them by a mile. He could only think of mechanics. Scoot. Grab. Lift. Elevate... If he had a backache, he couldn't feel it. Compared to how he'd last seen Steve, the scab on James's wrist from last week's encounter with a shattered porcelain toilet, was nothing. The sweat on his brow was nothing. The cardboard dust settled on his shoulders... That might make Steve sneeze.

After he'd parked crookedly in their next-door-neighbor's designated space, James ran into the apartment, showered so quickly the water didn't even have time to fog up the mirror, got dressed, and shoveled down two of Steve's probiotic yogurts while standing in front of the open refrigerator.

Alpine wound around James's ankles. He made an attempt to put his paws into the vegetable drawer to bat at the bag of bell peppers and banana pudding multipack.

"No," James said with his mouth full.

Alpine turned and licked up a drip of yogurt that had fallen from James's spoon. "Oh, you..." James shakes his head. "I know Steve's been letting you lick the containers under the table."

After he tossed his trash and threw the spoon into the sink, James patted Alpine on the head. "I'll see you..." James thought. He couldn't remember his schedule. Work. Sleep. But always, first, Steve. "When I get back."

James shoves his feet into already-tied sneakers and throws a bag over his shoulder. He hadn't cleaned it out since he finished his associates and kissed community college goodbye. Some stupid class notes might be in there. Maybe they could entertain Steve.

Although it was the end of James's day, most people, or at least those at the hospital, were just starting theirs. After following the same maze of hallways, James found Steve's room. He waited with his back against the wall while someone in an apron yelled out "Nutrition!" and carried a cup of green jello through the doorway on a tray.

James tried not to laugh. As if Steve would eat that. Even when he wasn't puking up his guts, Steve carried an aversion to unnaturally colored things, like blue popsicles. Iced purple roses decorating frosted cakes. Bright red cherry cough medicine that James joked about using to get high, while Steve did, in fact, just use according to the directions.

When James steps into the room, he feels the oppressive hospital atmosphere settle in over his head. It's like he's broken the surface tension and plunged into a world that isn't compatible with him. Or isn't anymore.

Everything is completely the same as the night before, except someone's moved the rolling table so it emulates a bedstand, holding all necessities, which, for now, seem to be a triangular graduated cylinder with brownish splashed down the side, and the cup of jello. James notices that they haven't brought Steve any utensils, so he takes it upon himself to move the unpalatable breakfast to the back counter of kidney dishes.

Steve's still out cold, but sleeping, James thinks, instead of passed out. The oxygen cannula under his nose seems to be delivering a constant flow, just boosting Steve a little while he breathes on his own. James squints at the muscles of Steve's neck, trying to take his pulse without touching him, and then comparing the number to the speed of his breathing. Basic medical told him Steve wasn't dying. If he'd paid more attention in basic, or maybe took Air Force route and became a PJ, he'd probably know a lot more.

The chair's set up just as James left it, and he settles into the plasticized leather cushions. It's not a comfortable chair. But James didn't come here to be comfortable.

Whilst keeping one eye on Steve, James lifts the flap on his bag and peers inside. As he expected, it's a mess of student and everyday-person needs. The organization's gone to shit, if there was any to begin with. The bag has interior pockets. Maybe that was back when he was in his fuck-therapy stage, before he let OT and PT help him work his body into something he could be comfortable with. It had helped him find a job, at least. And a boyfriend.

The most interesting find from the bag, so far, is a tangled pair of earbuds. The plug is compatible with the port on his phone, so James attaches them and scrolls to his music app. After wiggling one hearing aid out and replacing it with the soft plastic earbud, James runs his finger down the available albums and chooses one at random.

Is this the real life? Is it a fantasy?

James almost starts laughing. Bohemian Rhapsody? Seriously?

Well, for a half-delirious working man shirking sleep to protect Steve, to make money for rent for Steve while he healed up, paying the parking garage in quarters from beneath the center console in the car...

Nothing really matters

Nothing really matters to--

James cuts off the end of the song before the ending notes can play. No. He doesn't want to hear it. He can't hear it. Or it'll be true. Something has to matter. Even if it's remembering to go home often enough to feed Alpine something other than artificially flavored strawberry yogurt.

James presses the button to play the next song. The first beat sounds. James recognizes it. His foot moves automatically, tapping the floor to the notes of the refrain before the lyrics even start.

Steve walks wearily down the street

his brim pulled way down low

There's a soft groan from the bed. Steve blinks sleepily and seems to be trying to stretch his shoulders without sitting up.

James realizes, too late, that he's been tapping the undercarriage of Steve's bed every time he thought he was tapping the floor.

"I'm sorry," James says, quickly standing up and moving to Steve's side so he's level with his chest and head. "Was I hurting you?"

"What'd you call me for?" Steve asks blearily.

"Huh?" James doesn't understand. "I didn't..."

"You said my name," Steve insists. "But like, mumbly. Were you, like talking while you were writing something down?"

"Mumbly?" James is still confused.

"And I think your headphones are broken," Steve points out. After a couple fumbles, he catches the dangling earbud, the one James left hanging.

Steve lifts it up so it's high between their faces.

Another one bites the dust

Another one bites the dust

"Fuck." James buries the earbud in his fist and turns off the music on his phone. He turns off his phone for good measure. "I was-- I thought--" James shakes his head. "I didn't think you could hear it. I didn't mean to bug you."

"No, that's ok." Steve scoots his body a millimeter closer to the pole of epidural machines. The push-button has made its way to the floor again, so James bends to grab it and give it back.

"But," Steve continues, after giving himself a good dose of painkiller, "Why's my name in it?"

James hast to think on it. There's a "poor boy," but he doesn't have a name... Another one bites the dust is, well, about a serial killer... but...

"Oh." James points upward to show his realization. "No one's ever broken the news to you?" He goes for a sly smile, but laughter is trapped in his chest and throat.

"What news...?"

"You did it," James informs him. "You're the perp."

"I-- what?"

"Steve walks wearily down the street, his brim pulled way down low," James recites.

"That's in the song?" Steve asks, as if he isn't sure he believes James.

"It's the first word. 'Steve.'" James can contain his laughter no more. "Everybody just knows 'Another one bites the dust.'"

"Wow." Steve ponders the ceiling. "How many people did I kill?"

"I don't actually know." James furrows his brow. "I can put it on again and we can count." He looks down at the janky earbud in his hand. "Or you can keep it a secret. 'Cause if anybody here in the hospital catches wind that you're a criminal, they'll probably send you back to prison."

"You'd bail me out, right?" Steve manages to pry his spine from the mattress using the strength of one elbow. Though he's speaking, he still has all the tells going. Quivering lip, pale face, clenching jaw...

Steve looks at the graduated cylinder as if it's a bacteria sample for a biology project. Colonies to numerous to count. Remain sealed due to unidentifiable contents.

"Should I not watch?" James asks gently.

Steve shrugs. He lets saliva drain openly in expectation of the first wave. "Bail me out of here?"

James smiles sadly. "That's not exactly how things work around here. Sorry." He pauses. "And that damn yellow gate with the meter in the parking garage-- it's eating up all my gold doubloons."

"But," Steve asks in a small voice. "You'll stay."

"Somebody's gotta make a dent in the mattress and shove some boxes and feed the cat..." James shrugs. "But I'm here as much as I can be. And I'm with you to the end of the line."

#marvel #mcu #fanfic #fanfiction #we fit like an enfit #tube 'verse #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america #winter soldier #sickfic #emeto #hospitals #surgery #colectomy

[asoulsreverie]

Hold On Tighter

tasm!Peter × gn!reader

Word Count: 1.0 k

Genre: Flufffff <3

Summary: Your love of the sky led you to meet Peter. Inspired the song Afterglow by Ed Sheeran

Warnings: Probably a few years after Gwen's death, reader's hair length is not mentioned, use of Y/N (i think only once), no pronouns, I think that's it?

Above image was originally posted by @bevongf

Reblogs appreciated

A/N: Hello! I was out walking a few days back and the sky was so pretty, with the sun setting and I kinda wanted to write something. I love the song Afterglow by Ed Sheeran, and I thought I could include something from there. So.... Yeah! This fic is gender neutral, so anyone can read it.

Also this is the first time I'm trying to write a song based fic and I'm not very confident about it, but here it goes!

Please be kind with your words :)

Please do not copy my work or translate them to any other languages. Please do not repost on any other platform.

Masterlist Peter Parker Masterlist

You loved sunsets. There was just something about the orange hues of the sky that spoke to you. The way the clouds reflected the sun's rays, their ever changing shapes and colours made you feel real; as if there was still something genuine left in the world.

You often went to Central Park, to enjoy the late evening sun and see the sky. One such May evening, you met him.

Peter Parker. He had been out to click pictures of the New York skyline. His camera on a tripod, lens facing the sky as he adjusted the settings to get just the right picture. The weather had slightly cleared up after a day of rain. You were looking up at the day's especially beautiful clouds slowly walking backwards, not paying attention to your surroundings.

That's when you collided into him, his senses not having perceived you as a threat. The force was not enough to knock him and he held you as you fumbled with your footing on the still slippery grass.

"Hey are you…ok?" he trailed off as soon as he gazed into your eyes. He had not believed he could ever fall for someone so easily as he did the moment he saw you.

Stop the clocks it's amazing

You should see the way the light dances off your hair

A million colours of hazel, golden and red

You too were lost in the boy's eyes, all warm and brown, the setting sun making them look like honey. He was staring deeply into your eyes and you were sure he could've seen through your soul.

My eyes are caught in your gaze all over again

"I'm so sorry, I was looking at the sky… should've been more careful" you breathed out slowly.

"It's alright" he said, "I was also looking at the sky…. Through my camera to click pictures"

You smiled at him, and realised that he was still holding your waist to keep you steady. He seemed to have sensed your thoughts, slowly removing his hands. But as soon as they left you, you felt sad at the loss of the warmth that had spread through you when he had held you.

"Is this your hobby?" you asked him, head inclined to his camera, "If you don't mind me ask-"

"Yeah-yes it is. My hobby. I also take pictures for The Bugle sometimes" he said with a smile and you felt all fuzzy inside, despite the cold. "Is your hobby looking at the sky?"

"I don't think you can call it a hobby anymore, it's become an obsession. I love the evening skies" you said.

"I'm Peter, by the way. Peter Parker" he introduced himself.

"Hi Peter, I'm Y/N" you replied. He repeated your name under his breath. You had heard people say their names sounded much more pretty when certain people said it, but it was the first time you felt so. "That's a beautiful name" he told you and you felt your cheeks warm up.

The both of you talked for about half an hour, you admiring the sky while Peter took pictures of it, before it started getting really dark. You both said quick good byes and left.

Peter found himself going to Central Park more than he had, just so he could meet you again.

After a few more times of meeting you, he asked you if you'd like to grab a coffee.

"Only if you'd like to, of course. I mean-"

"I would like that, Peter." you said with a smile.

You and Peter became fast friends and it didn't take much time for both of you to realise your feelings for each other. Even Peter, who thought he'd never find anyone after Gwen.

What were coffee shop meet ups and walks around the park, turned to movie nights, dinner dates and late night conversations and soon you two had made things official.

He loved the fascinated look you had when you were out on picnic dates, looking at the sky as some song played from the radio. He had many candids of yours, all over his bedroom wall.

He told you about his nighttime superhero life as the year passed, having almost frozen himself one winter night. You were worried of course, but you had known Spider-Man from when he once saved your friend and you knew helping the city was his choice. He wanted to be there for the people. And you supported him in every way that you could.

We were love drunk, waiting on a miracle

Tryna find ourselves in the winter snow

So alone in love like the world had disappeared

You grounded each other. He made you feel more real than you ever had, and you made him feel seen. Every moment you spent with Peter was a bliss you had never felt before. With him you were sure of everything you did, he never rushed you for anything and he always supported your every decision.

You felt safe with him, his strong arms wrapped around your front as you worked. His presence was comforting, his love true. The world seemed to stop when you both looked at each other, and you had very early realised you would love him forever.

This is a new dimension

This is a level where we're losing track of time

I'm holding nothing against it, except you and I

There were nights when you both would be curled in a blanket on the couch, him tired after his patrol, you sleepy from a long day. He would place his hand around you protectively as you played with his soft hair, just basking in each other's love. These were the moments Peter realised nothing in the world was more important than you and he knew he'd never let you go.

I won't be silent and I won't let go

I will hold on tighter 'til the afterglow

And we'll burn so bright 'til the darkness softly clears

Oh, I will hold on to the afterglow

#Tasm peter parker #Peter Parker #Andrew Garfield Peter Parker #Imagines #Fluff #× reader #Peter Parker × reader #Tasm!Peter×reader #Fanfiction #Andrew Garfield #Marvel #Afterglow #Ed Sheeran #asoulsreverie #Spotify

[twinhood-2dot0]

u/YAYVIDEOGAMES

Alex isn't here to entertain us with their posts, but I'm really, very, extremely bored and I need something to do. Yes, it's 2 days late, but who's counting anyways? Passage of time is even harder percieve at this point so :P.

You know that I love(/hate) reading about creepy, horrifying, gory, disturbing, <any number of adjectives> stories I can get my hands upon. One of my favourite channels is Nexpo (Nightmare Expo, formerly). They cover lots of, well, just what I described earlier. Oh huh, their latest video is about thalassophobia! That's a hell of a coincidence. (Other readers: Alex is thalassophobic, which is really unfortunate because I'm a thalassophile. I think the posts I made during our first run make that obvious.)

These are the kind of videos they make. Walten Files and Gemini Home Entertainment are Analog Horror series, huh, that's a topic for another day. Okay, let's move on before I delete this post to write about analog horror.

One of their videos is

on what I'm talking about today. You can watch that, he goes into much more detail than I will today. It's nothing too extremely disturbing, but very intriguing, which is why I decided to cover it today. Their video however, was made somehow, exactly a month before the case was closed, so I will be appending that too, so, you can just watch the video and skip to the ending section if you wanna.

u/YAYVIDEOGAMES is a Reddit user that perplexed users that happened to stumble upon his many spammed comments all over Reddit. He seemingly started spamming comments on Reddit after a conversation about Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion. Come with me, as we find out, who is u/YAYVIDEOGAMES, and what was his purpose of doing this, and what became of him (Yeah, the cheesy documentary intro was on purpose).

The Beginning

The story begins on September 8, 2010, on a post titled "Just got Oblivion for PC. What are your favorite mods?" in r/gaming(Oblivion is the 4th game in the Elder Scrolls video game series). Seems harmless, right? YAYVIDEOGAMES (Referred to as YVG from here on) comments about the game being terrible to uninstall because it leaves behind junk files. He receives a reply saying "Wat?" which seems to be what jumpstarted all this. He replies back.

"The uninstall button…The game is great, Ubisoft goes Steamworks bye bye, always on DRM. But you oft go work, always on work DR. Check out the junk it leaves behind in you."

Ubisoft - Video game publisher

Steamworks - Software designed by Steam to allow developers to add additional features, one being DRM, or Digital Rights Management, which is what stops you from doing whatever you want with software from online stores.

The comment looks pretty tame, albeit with some incoherent parts. The other person responds saying "that makes even less sense" and that the uninstallation works perfectly fine.

This is where stuff gets uhhh concerning. The comment is met with 60 or so comments, all with some variation of the text I bolded in the previous comment.

Let's turn back the clock to August 13, 2010. This is when a post titled "Ubisoft goes Steamworks bye bye always on DRM.", linking to an article about Ubisoft dropping it's terrible DRM. is posted to r/gaming. It's filled with comments with the same content, but they're very few, comparitively, at least, it's still an ungodly amount, and exactly the same, unlike the others. I would like to paint a clearer picture of the timeline, but internet connectivity is limited at the moment, so let's work considering the September date as the beginning.

This is also another comment thread from August 13. The content will be relevant later. Sorry about the light theme, new reddit UI is awful and I'm on dad's laptop so no forced dark mode.

At first glance, it may seem like a bot, but the thing is, so many of them are differently formatted, and with random links, that it's unlikely it was a bot that was made to do all that. A very dedicated troll then, you might say, but it's 4,000 comments + countless many on other threads. As we will see later on, the truth is much darker.

Comment history if you wanna look through it yourself.

There's also a comment in the sea of all the ubisoft goes steamworks, replying to someone asking if they're the only fan of a retro game called "Illusion of Gaia", saying "Apparently you are" linking to a Bing search of "i am a fan of illusion of gaia", which I have no idea what it was supposed to mean, the meaning might just be lost because it's been 13 years. He is greeted by "hahaha everybody, this guy uses Bing! LOL" which triggers another comment thread of a 100 variatons of "LOL!Bing". There's also this one comment that is repeated quite a few times on a post on r/WTF titled something that I wish I never read saying "We are smarter than them" or a spin on it, but seemingly a bit more coherent. This goes on for a long time, until September 23, where it abruptly stops. There are a few normal comments, albeit none are much to comment on. One thing to note, however, is that a few of the targeted posts contain the word "hipster" and some of his normal comments contain it too.

Here's a reddit comment compiling the images that he linked to.

They're all pretty cryptic and random however, don't think anything could be discovered from that. There is also a handwritten version of that, prepended with "https://www.reddit.com/spoiler".

His last message on reddit with the user u/YAYVIDEOGAMES was a post titled "Magic" content: "I need some for help. I would not use it evilly." on the subreddit r/Cleanliness.

Someone knew I was coming.

r/Cleanliness

At first glance, it is a seemingly normal, albeit empty subreddit about sanitation, and there's a moderator named u/NoSubstanceHere.

u/NoSubstanceHere has a post on the subreddit with the title "Zelda" and content "Zelda the princess." Weird for a sub named Cleanliness, you'd think, until scroll down the comments. There you encounter u/NotSureHowBigYouAre with weird cryptic messages, a "conversation" with u/NoSubstanceHere, and one word repeated a ton. "Upvoted." There's also a seemingly random comment by u/VinylRecord saying "Zelda" with a link to an image of a man with Joker-looking-but-sad lipstick smeared on his lips. That name sound familiar?

u/NoSubstanceHere

NSH here has seemingly normal threads on r/gaming, but they seem to contain the same content: "the interrogation room underwent some changes while you were away". There's also a comment on a post titled "Hipster Frodo" saying "I had the one ring when it was on vinyl." They also have a comment with "Oh my god" repeated a ton in response to a comment by NSHBYA (huh, weird, this one's initials resembles the other's). Another post to note is one asking "Who is the best game girl?". It has a few repeated one word comments by them, and one saying "Look" with the aforementioned weird lipstick picture. Another is this thread.

the link is to the starting of the LOL!Bing thread, which is interesting.

They also mod r/BananaFreaks, which contains just 2 posts. One of a uhh weird..? image of a creepified anthropomorphic banana and a disgusted man, and one with just Cheetos. Both of them have comments by NSHBYA and no one else, so they seem to be related somehow.

u/NotSureHowBigYouAre

This account was pretty active, and there's a ton of normal posts. I would have liked to read all the posts, however they are huge and too many, unlike YVG, so from what I could read from the latest few messages, they all seem to be about big pharma, drugs and chronic fatigue syndrome, which they say they suffer from. They also made a post, looking for roommates, where he mentions his chronic pain, over-medicated irritability, and being an ex-Jehovah's Witness. I had no idea what this was, being an Indian atheist with only a little interest in religion, so if you're like me, here. I may just be dumb, but the language is kinda esoteric, but basically, radical, so-conservative-they-want-Christianity-to-go-back-to-1st-Century. I'm too lazy to read through all that, so forgive my misconceptions, but from what I've read, it sounds hellish and cultish. There are also posts that tell us that they were pretty much bedridden from the chronic pain and suicidal, and suffered from hallucinations and nightmares of demons, which their mother told them was all real. I think the mother is the actual demon here, for god's sake.

Let's divert our attention for now to the subreddits that they moderate, namely r/HumorlessClassical and r/HipsterJokes. The former contains one post by the account with the sub link with the comment "LOL Right?", and a bunch of movie piracy threads, but nothing else out of the ordinary. The latter however, is filled with posts by this one account which make seemingly no sense. A lot of them contain words or phrases like "pretty underground", "you've probably never heard about it", "I liked it before it was mainstream/popular", vinyls, casettes and records and some have images linked with just one word, "Before". The sub is pretty empty, except for... u/VinylRecord. Remember them, the "Zelda" guy? Yeah, they seem to be connected to NSHBYA. They are the only other commenter on posts on r/HipsterJokes. Scrolling through their post history, we see more spam. A ton of posts that just say "I'm on vinyl" or "Those jokes get me every time, upvoted". After that though, they get pretty normal. There's a standout, however. There's a comment saying "I have this chart on Vinyl" in response to a link to a website with title "Hipster Fashion Cycle. You go down into the replies aaaaannnnddddd *drumroll* Ubisoft goes Steamworks bye bye, always on DRM. We have come full circle.

What Happened to u/YAYVIDEOGAMES?

Okay, this part is all new, if you already watched Nexpo's video. NSHBYA's last post was on January of 2015. What happened to him after that date was unknown... until Nexpo's video gave it so much coverage. More alts are found, key being u/Nebslox, which appears to be his main account. The username led investigators to his other accounts, one being his last.fm, using which they were able to find Luke McLeish, who seemed to be friends with YVG. He was a member of the band "Jack The Stripper", who YVG also mentioned in a few posts. They also found a 2016 interview where Luke states that his best friend from high school took his own life early in January of 2015. With YVG calling the band his best friend's and from what we know about his CFS and chronic pain and how he found it hard to live, it was unfortunately pretty clear what happened. Luke holds an AMA in the subreddit, where he reveals that his name was Lyndon Wachtel, and he did indeed take his own life in early 2015.

The story of u/YAYVIDEOGAMES aka Lyndon Wachtel is a fascinating and haunting one. What began as seemingly random and incoherent comments on Reddit soon revealed a much darker and complex narrative. The enigmatic user, whose comments flooded various threads, caught the attention of investigators and internet sleuths, leading to a deep dive into their online presence and real-life identity.

Rest In Peace, Lyndon Wachtel, we're glad you finally found peace, and you will be remembered.

This story has enchanted me for a long time, so I hope you enjoyed it too. I love storytelling videos and such, so I was hoping to emulate it kinda in text form.

#yayvideogames #internet history #nexpo #internet deep dives #reddit #Youtube

[sw143]

2. The Ring

It is been 2 months after government imposed movement restriction order due to pandemic. No one can go out from their home without valid reason. Zack lay on his bed scrolling down his instagram. On these quarantine time, people are getting creative to fill up their time at home. Zack saw a lot of sharing by content creators on his social media. Some fills their time by trying new recipe on instagram, post a dance video on tiktok, write thread about conspiracy theories. While scrolling his instagram wall, Zack saw Callum's story post appeared. He click the thumbnail and watched the content.

"I want to give my mum this ring but the size not suit her, instead of keep it I want to let it go. Any interested buyer?" The text come with picture of two silver swarovski rings. One with large swarovski gem on the centre and small gems arranged around the ring and another same ring but without big swarovski stone on the centre.

Zack immediately sent him a message. "I'm interested". Zack wrote. "I buy with 15 dollars. Deal?".

"okay deal!" Callum replied.

That was fast. Zack did not expect such prompt reply from Callum.

"when you want to take these rings?" Callum ask.

"How about tommorow. I'm going to Image Mall to take something from my friend" Zack have an appointment with Diana. Diana's mother is a friend of Zack's mom. Lately Diana always like Zack's posts and stories on instagram. They even make few conversation through whatsapp and instagram. Zack can feel Diana interest on him but he just ignored it since he just want to make sure for a choice of love of his life.

"Okay see you tommorow then. Just give ma call when you are there. My house just 5 minutes from there." Callum replied and give Zack his contact number.

Zack lay facing his bedroom ceiling. His mind processing the thought of Callum willingness to take the deal. Zack start to think something but he immediately shut it down but the more he tried, the more he is force to think about it. Does Callum like me?

...................................

The clock on the wall shows twelve past twenty. Zack get himself ready to go out to meet Diana and Image mall.

"Im at the mall entrance" Zack texted Diana.

"Could you move to the starbucks area. There will be one lady hand in to you a paperbag. Let me know if you're done " Zack feel weird with this supposedly she is the one met him here but now the thing differen.

Zack drive his car to the starbucks and pull over and put on emergency light. He checking his phone while waiitng the lady as per told by Diana. As Zack sunk by his phone, Suddenly someone knocking the window car. One curvy lady with starbucks apron on, hand in to him a paperbag.

"Hi, this is for you from Ms. Diana" she said.

"Hi, oh thank you" soon as she back off. Zack raised the car window and drove to the side part of the mall. He take out his phone and texted Callum

"Hi Bro, I'm at the mall. Parked my car at the right side of the Mall"

Callum reply promptly "Okay will be there in 5 "

Zack looking around and enjoy the peaceful surrounding of the mall. Usually the mall will be busy at this hour but due to the movemont restriction order, less people come the mall.

Suddenly Ford Fiesta car parked in front of Zack's. One guy with shades, white t-shirt and black shorts come out from that car walk towards him. Zack bring down the windows. He was so nervous this is the first time we met this guy. Zack always struggle with first time meeting with people the first thing that comes to his mind is how people think abpout him. He always imagining negative perspective throw towards him.

Zack just waiting, He saw a young man with with small box in his hand.

"Hey, here you are. The rings". Callum said while hand in the small box.

"Hey, Thanks. By the way I'm Sorry. I tried transfer the money to you but seems the network was not really. The transaction can't went thru"

"No problem, it can be wait. No rush"

He looks like waiting for something. Does he hoping the conversation to be longer? Or does He hoping for Zack to invite him for a date? Zack also do not have idea about it. Zack suddenly end the silent moment by thank him for the rings and told him he need to drive back home. They both said their goodbyes and move on their way

[mooshys]

I would not go with atsumu 🥸✋

(Hi I hope you’re doing well and taking care and SLEEPING and drinking water and ily 💛) -micchi!

LOL micchi you read my mind... atsumu going into a waffle house just screams bad news 😭 it's all fun and games with the next table over until the verbal altercation turns physical...

also HIIIIII (note the i's hah) I hope you're doing well too!! man you're so sweet I was literally partaking in my daily evening spiral and ur msg cheered me up bahaha anyway! pls take care of yourself too and kick this semester in the ass!!!

#I'm so sorry for the late reply I clocked out after making that one post Lol #BUT YEAH Literally atsumu says ONE wrong word and y'all are booking it out of that waffle house while throwing dollar bills behind your bac #k #me still: Wanna go to waffle house again #I'm sorry I miss waffle house so much I haven't been in forever and a half #I digress #Hope you're staying hydrated too I haven't seen a pun in a while I miss that #Micchi the master punster #Is punster a word #moosh woosh #sanso #No srsly tho I wish you only the best in life bc U deserve it

[leefics]

brothers: extras | literature assignment

excerpt | the one where (y/n) needs help with her literature homework.

pairing | brothers!namjoon x reader

genre | fluff

warning/s | none

lee’s notes | to celebrate republishing the other chapters, here's a little extra i've had in my drafts for awhile! tbh i just got a bit excited when i found out how to make fake texts on imessage and so i decided to test it out :) feel free to lmk how you feel about me posting these little blurbs once and awhile!

go to | home / m. list / faq / character profile

during the facetime:

"hey." you say, waving to namjoon.

he waves back to you before turning towards his laptop to open the file you sent him. "hey yoo." he says, causing you to smile upon hearing the nickname.

as the file loads, he turns back towards you, letting out a chuckle at your rather disheveled state. "what time is it there?" he asks, resting his chin onto the palm of his hand.

you sigh and glance towards your alarm clock, crinkling your nose when you read what it says. "it's almost 12 am." you respond, wincing when you see namjoon's eyes widen.

"yah—why are you still up?" he says, looking at you in surprise.

you huff in defeat before looking downwards to fidget with the ball in your hands. "i've been catching up on assignments. for some reason, all our teachers thought it would be a good idea to schedule the deadlines at the same time." you respond, a small pout forming onto your face.

namjoon frowns in concern upon hearing this, well-aware of how much stress you're probably under. "i'm sorry to hear that." he responds, the sympathy evident in his tone.

you glance towards him when you hear his response, giving him a small thankful smile. "it's okay, i mean, i guess i'll just have to live with sleeping a bit later for the rest of week." you say, making namjoon sigh.

"just remember to prioritize your health, okay? i pulled a few all-nighters too when i was still in school but i want you to know that your well-being is more important than anything." he says, staring at you directly through the screen. "trust me, it's better to put your sleeping schedule first than to force yourself to finish the rest of the assignments while you aren't in your best state."

you nod at this, letting out another sigh. "thank you, joons. i needed that." you say, giving him a smile.

he simply smiles back and nods before responding, "of course, (y/n). and hey, if you ever need someone to talk to or just need help with an assignment, just send me a message, alright?"

you let out a laugh at this, staring at him. "even when it's 2am in korea?" you playfully ask, namjoon chuckling and rolling his eyes.

"i think you might be better off calling yoongi-hyung that late at night."

you simply smile and nod, scooting closer to the screen. "will do. but seriously—thank you for saying all of that and for agreeing to help me. i know it's not the easiest thing to say yes to, especially considering the fact that you're probably busy."

namjoon shakes his head at this, looking at you reassuringly. "we always have time for you, (y/n)-ah. no worries." he replies, giving you a thumbs up before clapping his hands. "now, speaking of helping you, shall we start reading?"

you chuckle and nod, grabbing your pen and a piece of paper. "take it away, professor kim."

after the facetime:

#bts ff #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts #bangtan #bangtan imagine #bts imagines #bts x female reader #bts x little sister #bts x reader platonic #bts brother au #bts older brother au #brothers extras

[hrina]

Be Sweet, Pt. I

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M (minors dni!) WORD COUNT: 6k

hey everyone! here's part one of my new enemies-to-lovers series :) this fic will be five parts in total, but i'm only posting the first part on tumblr. you'll be able to read the rest of it on patreon if you wanna sign up!

as always, reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated. i love hearing your thoughts! enjoy.

~*~

August 27th, 2021

“Who’s opening tomorrow?”

Ella scrubs a wet rag across the table closest to the door. You cast a furtive glance up at her, flipping absentmindedly through the jumble of papers on the counter in front of you. Nick’s messy scrawl catches your eye, and you pause, reading the haphazard comment written at the bottom of the page.

Customer requested a very specific shade of pink trim. See back for details.

You flip the order, scoffing at the Pantone strip taped to the other side. The square labelled Quartz Pink has been singled out, encircled in bright red. Jesus fucking Christ.

“Alice and Olly, I think,” you say, shoving the form to the bottom of the pile.

“That’s good,” Ella grunts, returning the napkin holder and the sugar dispenser back to their spots on the table. “And you’ll swing by sometime during the afternoon?”

“Yeah,” you say, drumming your fingers over the papers. “I’m gonna help Olly in the back. You know how much he hates dealing with fondant.”

“How could I forget?” Ella rolls her eyes, smiling to herself. You grimace when she tosses the damp cloth in your direction. It lands on the counter with a loud splat! You nudge it away with your elbow, shaking your head.

“Gross.”

“You’re gross,” Ella says.

“I’m lovely,” you reply. She grins.

“Where’s Alex taking you tonight?” you ask, changing the subject. Her eyes light up instantly, and she clasps her hands together against her chest.

“It’s a surprise,” she says, giggling girlishly.

You groan. “I hate surprises.”

“It’s a good thing he’s not your boyfriend, then, isn’t it?” she retorts. You snicker, and she continues: “He told me we should stop off at home to change, though, so I’m guessing that wherever it is, there’s a dress code.”

“Ooh, fancy.”

“Right?” She twists her wrist, peeking at her watch. “He should have been here by now. It’s already a quarter past seven.”

“The hospital is just down the street,” you remind her, organising the mountain of orders into a neat stack. “Give him another five minutes.”

She nods. You spin on your heel and push through the door leading to the backroom of the bakery. The large space is split into two sections: on your right, there’s a wall of ovens, and a cluster of metal racks filled with pale, unprocessed dough. On your left, tables and counters lined with all sorts of decorating necessities—piping bags, spatulas, scrapers, turntables. You make your way toward the small cabinet perched against the nearest wall and pull out the top drawer, sliding the orders inside. Olly should have no trouble locating them tomorrow morning.

When you return to the front of the shop, Ella is locked in a passionate embrace with a gangly, dark-haired man. You recognise him immediately.

“Doctor Dao,” you call out, resting your elbows on the counter. “Did you at least wash your hands before putting them all over my best friend?”

Alex and Ella break apart swiftly, but he keeps one arm wrapped around her waist. “Hey, cookie,” he says, flashing you an apologetic grin. “Didn’t see you there.”

You arch one brow, lips curling into an amused smirk. “I’ll say.”

Only then do you catch sight of the other man lingering by the door, and your smile quickly morphs into an irritated frown. Harry is watching you with twinkling eyes, like he knows the effect his presence has on you. How could he not? You don’t try to hide your disdain, especially when it comes to him.

“Harry,” you say curtly, lifting your chin in stubborn acknowledgement.

He brings two fingers to his temple—a mock-salute. “Sweetheart.”

You clench your jaw. God, he makes your blood boil. Rather than responding, you turn back to Alex, who is now smoothing his palms over Ella’s silky brown hair. “You’re late,” you tell him. “You were supposed to be here when we closed.”

“Sorry, cookie,” Alex says, and he sounds like he means it. “My last surgery of the day had a few…complications.”

You purse your lips as the annoyance melts away. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He nods, blowing out a heavy breath. He looks tired. “We figured it out.”

“That’s good.”

Alex directs his attention back to Ella, leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of her nose. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she replies. “Just let me grab my bag.”

“Cool,” he says. “You don’t mind if we drop Harry off at his place, right? His car is fucked, apparently.”

Ella’s grey eyes widen. She peers over her boyfriend’s shoulder at Harry. “What happened?”

Harry waves away her concerns, chuckling quietly. He tugs on the collar of his blue scrubs, and you can’t stop your gaze from trailing across the plethora of tattoos inked into his arm. Your nose wrinkles at the sight. He looks ridiculous. What kind of doctor would agree to don such outrageous body art?

“He’s being dramatic,” Harry says, shooting Alex a pointed glare. “My car’s at the shop right now, but I’ll have it back by tomorrow evening at the latest.”

“Oh.” Ella relaxes. “Okay, that’s great. Babe—” She turns to Alex. “—when are our reservations?”

“Eight-thirty,” Alex says. “Plenty of time.”

“Awesome,” she chirps. She scurries around the counter and playfully bumps her hip against yours. “My purse is in the back. Give me one second.”

And then she’s gone.

You stare at Alex, fighting a clever smile. “Tonight’s the night, huh?” you murmur, quiet enough so that there’s no chance of Ella overhearing.

He beams, shouldering his knapsack and dragging his sweaty palms down the front of his shirt. His scrubs are a light purple, you note. The shade compliments his dark skin.

“Yeah,” he replies, gnawing anxiously on his bottom lip. “She’ll say yes, right?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. “Of course she will.”

Just then, Ella bursts through the door, her leather purse swinging wildly against her waist. “Alright!” She claps once, striding over to you and planting a wet, sloppy kiss onto your cheek. “I’m off.”

“Bye,” you say, wiping her saliva from your face with the back of your hand. “Have fun.”

Alex waves at you as she tugs him out of the bakery. “See you later, cookie.”

You wink. “See you.”

Harry is the last one to leave. He glances at you momentarily, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smug smile. The look makes you bristle. He’s absolutely infuriating.

“Got any leftover almond croissants?” he asks. Silent laughter taints every word.

You point to the exit. “Get out.”

He bows his chin in farewell, approaching the door. “Sweetheart.”

“Asshole,” you reply flatly. Now that your friends are out of earshot, you’re under no obligation to tolerate him. Sometimes, you find yourself actually craving his company, just so you can drop the pretence and really give him a piece of your mind. You’re a mature adult, and you won’t ruin a social gathering because of one presumptuous dickhead, but everyone has their limits. You don’t owe him shit.

Harry chuckles to himself, and you clench your fists at your sides. He shoots you one last maddening smirk before disappearing out the door. You rush forward, latching it swiftly and ensuring that the sign against the glass reads ‘CLOSED’. Once you’ve successfully locked up, you march into the back of the shop, plucking your own purse off one of the metal counters and tugging it over your shoulder. You shut the light and return to the front, scanning the clean tables, the empty display cases, the shades drawn over the windows. Shards of the sunset stream through the cracks in the blinds, casting orange stripes along the floor.

All clear, a voice in your head whispers, and you sigh.

Finally—you can go home.

August 28th, 2021

Quick, frantic knocking rouses you from your sleep. Blearily, you sit up on the mattress, knuckling at your puffy eyes. The hardwood floor is cold against the soles of your feet when you climb out of bed. You shiver.

The insistent clamour continues as you pad down the hallway. You tug at the hem of your worn, baggy t-shirt, concealing your midriff. Ella wastes no time after you open the front door, surging past the threshold and vaulting herself into your arms.

“He proposed!” she squeals as the two of you stagger backward. You freeze, remembering Alex’s plans from the day before. His apprehension, too—the way he wiped his clammy palms against his scrubs and anxiously dug his teeth into his bottom lip. Shock ebbs and flows through your veins for a fraction of a second, but then you’re sweeping Ella into a tight hug, rocking your bodies from side to side.

“Oh my God,” you say. Excitement festers beneath the murky exhaustion clouding your mind. “He did it.”

Ella steps back, brows knitting together in bewilderment. “You knew?” When you nod, she scoffs, aiming a half-hearted swat at your bicep. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Why the fuck would I tell you?” you retort, rolling your eyes at the demand. “Come on. Let’s see it.”

A bright grin stretches across her lips, and she holds up her left hand, wiggling her fingers keenly. You spy the ring resting on the fourth digit: a simple platinum band topped with a large, clear diamond. Grey morning light bounces off the gemstone, and it winks at you as if it knows something that you don’t.

“Gorgeous,” you breathe, gripping Ella’s wrist to bring her hand closer. You scrutinize the ring carefully, smiling to yourself. “He’s got good taste.”

“Doesn’t he?” she gushes, beaming like an idiot. You beckon her into the kitchen, and she collapses onto one of the tall stools positioned in front of the marble island. A quick glance at the digital clock on the stove reveals that it’s only eight in the morning. You groan, rubbing gentle circles against your temples.

“I was hoping I’d get to sleep in today,” you say, lips curling into a wry smirk.

Ella shoots you a sheepish, apologetic smile, sliding her purse off her shoulder and placing it on the counter. “I’m sorry, cookie. I couldn’t wait.”

“I’m just kidding,” you tell her, floating around the room to prepare a pot of coffee. “So…how did he do it?”

She launches into a frenzied retelling of the night before. Alex brought her to the same restaurant they’d visited four years ago on their first date. They ordered their food and made conversation. Things proceeded as usual until the end of the meal, at which point Alex set his napkin down on the table and excused himself to the restroom. Two minutes later, the waiter arrived with the bill. Ella accepted it graciously, scanning the thin paper and pausing at the question scrawled at the very bottom of the slip. When she snapped her head up, searching for her boyfriend in the crowded dining area, she found him kneeling a few feet away from her chair, a small velvet box nestled securely in his steady hands.

“I started crying immediately,” she tells you, groaning at the memory. “I couldn’t keep it together. It was so embarrassing.”

You toss your head back and laugh. Despite the crimson blush staining her cheeks, she joins in. The coffeemaker beeps, signalling that the pot is ready. You fetch two mugs from the cupboard and fill them with dark liquid. Ella accepts her drink eagerly, blowing cool air across its surface. You grimace as she takes a tentative sip—you’ve never understood her penchant for unsweetened black coffee. Sugar and cream are a must.

“I’m so happy for you, El,” you tell her, stirring a small spoon around your mug. “You’re going to be the most beautiful bride.”

Her eyes grow damp. You snicker quietly, reaching across the island and swiping your thumb beneath her bottom lashes. She catches your hand and kisses your knuckles softly, clearing her throat.

“Will you—?” She releases a shuddering breath. “Will you be my maid of honour?”

You stiffen at her request. Her gaze rakes over your face, like she’s searching for any clue as to how you might respond. At last, your shoulders sag in relief, and an ecstatic smile splits across your cheeks.

“Of course,” you say, voice thick. Tears gather in your own eyes, but you blink them back furiously. “I would love nothing more.”

She sets her coffee down and skirts around the counter, yanking you into another bone-crushing hug. You grin as she presses a handful of sloppy kisses to the side of your head. Her elbow knocks against your abandoned mug, and a few drops of coffee spill down the side of the cup. You laugh at her enthusiasm, pulling back and sweeping your hands over her silky hair.

“It’s probably way too soon, but have you guys started discussing anything?” you ask, arching one eyebrow.

Ella flushes pink, averting her gaze. “Um…when we got home, there wasn’t really much of a discussion going on.”

You cackle, poking at her ribs. “Oh, he gave it to you good, didn’t he? It’s a miracle that you’re not limping right now.”

“Be quiet,” she yelps, stamping her eyes shut.

You lift your hands and shoot her a teasing smirk. “I’m not judging, okay? If anything, I’m living vicariously through your various sexual conquests. It’s been months since I last got any action.”

“Maybe that should change,” Ella says, folding her arms over her chest. “You and Harry could probably fuck out your frustrations. His dick is huge, apparently.”

You balk. “Ella!”

She shrugs, grey eyes widening comically. “What? Alex told me!”

You snort, but say nothing. She watches you cautiously, examining your features for any signs of acquiescence. Any indication that you might actually be considering her lewd suggestion. You almost gag.

“Why do you hate him so much, anyway?” Ella asks, flicking an invisible speck of lint off her shoulder. “You’re not still hung up on that fiasco with the almond croissant, are you?”

“I’m not doing this with you again,” you say, and she sighs.

“Okay, I’m sorry. But can you at least try to be civil while we plan the wedding? For my sake.”

After mulling over her words, you slouch in defeat. “Fine. But only for you,” you say, throwing a stern finger in her face.

She beams. “Thank you.” Something dirty flashes behind her pale eyes. “And if you do end up sleeping with him, I want all the details.”

You shove her gently and scoff. She laughs.

“Honestly,” you start, shaking your head, “it doesn’t matter how huge his dick is. I’d rather walk across hot coals than let somebody like him climb into my bed.”

“What makes you think it wouldn’t be the other way around?” Ella snickers. You glare at her, but she just steps back, raising her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, fine. Have it your way. But I’m expecting you to find someone in time for the big day. Don’t let your plus-one go to waste.”

You roll your eyes, thoroughly unconvinced. “Noted.”

September 2nd, 2021

“Olly!” you call, sticking your head into the backroom. “Ella and I are going on our lunch break, but Leyla will be here in, like, twenty minutes. You going to be okay by yourself until then?”

Olly doesn’t even bother looking over his shoulder, too busy piping little flowers along the sides of the rectangular cake laid out in front of him. He lifts one hand, waving away your concerns before running his palm over his short blue hair. He buzzed and dyed it just last week after claiming that he couldn’t stand how the long brown curls stuck to the nape of his neck. It took a few days to get used to the change, but now that the initial shock has faded, you have to admit that he looks great.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Olly says, putting the finishing touches on the cake. He sets his piping bag down and turns toward you, wiping his palms against his red apron. His left ear bears a swirl of shiny silver piercings. “I’ll be out in a second.”

“Thanks,” you say, flashing him a small smile. He returns it, and then you’re spinning on your heel and letting the door swing shut behind you.

You find Ella waiting outside the bakery. She urges you along, and you squawk at her impatience.

“What’s the rush?” you ask, falling into step with her as you both amble down the sidewalk. “We have forty-five minutes.”

“I don’t want Alex’s sandwich to get cold,” she explains, holding up the small paper bag clutched in her right hand. You snort.

The two of you make it to Ridgefield Hospital in record time, mostly because Ella grips your arm and gives it a forceful tug whenever you start lagging behind. You walk through the automatic doors, ignoring the row of ambulances parked outside. The secretaries sitting at the front desk shoot you a few distracted smiles—they’ve all grown accustomed to your frequent visits by now.

Ella babbles endlessly as you enter the elevator, pressing the button for the fifth floor and waiting as the metal doors slide shut.

“I want to ask Alice and Leyla to be part of the bridal party, but I’m scared the guys will feel bad if Alex doesn’t choose them as his groomsmen. Like, I think they’d understand, considering I work with the girls and we’re all pretty close, but I don’t know.” She nudges you with her elbow. “What do you think?”

“I think you should do whatever the fuck you want,” you tell her, shrugging. “It’s your wedding. And I don’t think Olly, Marcus, or Nick will mind if they’re not part of the bridal party. Olly doesn’t care about that stuff, and Marcus and Nick already have their hands full with their jobs at the bakery. Plus, they know Alex has his own friends—not just the ones he’s met through you.”

Ella nibbles on her bottom lip, her head bobbing in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You lay a placid hand on her shoulder. “You’re already overthinking this. You’ve only been engaged for a week. Enjoy it.”

She shoots you a grateful smile just as the elevator dings and the doors glide open, and the two of you step out onto the hospital’s paediatric floor. It’s a stark contrast to the other sections of the building. Instead of barren white walls, these ones are painted with all sorts of pretty, colourful decorations—flowers, rainbows, sunsets, animals. A massive sign in front of you denotes the different divisions on the floor and where to find them: the ICU, the operating rooms, the palliative unit, the psychiatry wing, and the oncology department. You and Ella turn right, making the familiar trek to Alex’s office.

“He should be on his lunch break, too,” she says. “Unless they paged him for another emergency surgery.”

You hum in response.

Sure enough, you find Alex at his desk, twirling a blue pen between his fingers as he pores over the stack of papers in front of him. Ella knocks gently against the open door, and his face lights up when he spies her standing in the threshold. He moves quickly, crossing the room in five long strides, and plants a searing kiss onto her lips. You look away, rocking awkwardly on the balls of your feet.

“Hey,” Alex murmurs after he and Ella break apart. That’s when he notices you behind her. “Hey, cookie.”

“Hey,” you reply. You toss your thumb over your shoulder. “I’m just going to—you know, the usual.”

He nods.

The last thing you see before you turn around is Ella holding up the brown paper bag, and Alex’s face splitting into a bright, easy smile.

You meander through the halls, trailing your fingers over the rich artwork covering the walls. The end of the corridor cleaves in two; you turn left and enter a large atrium. The ceiling is high and peppered with skylights. A small cafeteria sits off to the side, clusters of families chatting and laughing together as they eat. Children sprint around the space, their arms outstretched. Some of them are dressed in normal clothes—others don pale hospital gowns, their skinny legs bared for all to see. You wrench your attention away from them, fixing it instead on the far wall.

Slowly, you cross the room, surveying the vibrant handprints stamped against the plaster. There has to be hundreds of them, you think. They vary in size—some are so tiny you could cry. Colour becomes scarcer the higher you go—the youngest children are too short to reach those levels, obviously—but still. The sight takes your breath away. You visit this mural every time you find yourself at the hospital, and every time, you unearth a new detail that you hadn’t noticed before.

You walk along the length of the wall, dragging your fingertips across the dry, smooth paint. Purples and pinks and oranges and blues. Reds, greens, yellows, browns. Each handprint is a person—a pair of little feet that scuffled over this very floor, a blank story that had yet to unfold. Briefly, you wonder how many survived whatever illnesses plagued them, and how many succumbed to their conditions. The thought makes your throat grow tight with emotion, so you quickly shove it aside.

Ten minutes pass before you’re leaving the mural behind and heading back the way you came. You’ve just rounded the corner when a strong, solid body barrels into you. You grunt at the impact, smacking one palm against the wall to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you start, lifting your head to meet the stranger’s gaze. “I wasn’t paying—oh.”

Harry smirks, his green eyes glittering with mirth once he recognises you. You purse your lips, wishing the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“Harry,” you say, nodding stiffly.

He folds his arms over his chest. “Sweetheart.”

His brown hair is tousled, and his biceps strain against the white button-up adorning his torso. Black slacks cover his legs, and he’s wearing a pair of pristine leather shoes, ones that look like they might’ve cost a month’s worth of rent. Your teeth grate together noisily. The sound echoes in your ears.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asks, as though the two of you are old friends. You want to scoff—you’d rather stick your hand in an oven than make idle conversation with him.

“Visiting Alex,” you say tightly, stepping back. “Ella brought him lunch.”

At that, Harry straightens. “Ella’s here?”

“Yes.”

“I wish I’d run into her,” he murmurs, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger.

You throw him a scowl. “Asshole.”

Harry cocks one eyebrow, tilting his chin haughtily. “Forgive me if I prefer her company to yours. At least she doesn’t treat me like I’m some insufferable bastard.”

“Maybe if you stopped being such an insufferable bastard, I wouldn’t treat you like one,” you shoot back, planting your hands on your hips. You tense as Harry’s gaze rakes down your body—head to toe, like he’s sizing up an opponent. His nose wrinkles in disdain, and you fight the urge to deliver a sharp, backhanded slap across that pretty, perfect face.

Harry opens his mouth, and you brace yourself for whatever retort he has prepared. What comes out is nothing overtly nasty, but it is enough to make you want to shrink away and curl into yourself until you wink out of existence.

“You smell like yeast,” he says, and tosses in a derisive sniff just for the added effect.

You recoil as the words slam into you, blinking in shock.

Asshole. Rude, arrogant, condescending asshole.

“I own a bakery,” you grit out. Harry shrugs, but says nothing else. Your lips flap wordlessly as he pushes past you, his shoulder bumping against yours. You watch him go, massaging the tender spot on your arm with shaky fingers. Your eyes fall to his ass for only a moment before skittering away, and a hollow laugh catches in your throat.

What a fucking prick.

September 17th, 2021

“Attention, everyone!” Ella stands at the head of the table, clinking her fork delicately against her glass. “I wanted to make a little toast.”

The conversation around you tapers off into silence. You sit back in your chair, focussing on your best friend. She looks splendid in her pretty blue dress, her dark hair twisted into an elaborate knot at the nape of her neck. She peers around the room, chewing nervously on the inside of her cheek. When her gaze locks with yours, you grant her a tiny, encouraging nod.

She beams, her next words imbued with renewed enthusiasm. “I wanted to thank all of you for coming here tonight to celebrate our engagement with us.” She holds out her hand, and Alex presses a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “We’re so grateful to be sharing this milestone with such a wonderful group of people.”

You inspect the other guests gathered around the table. To your right sit Alice and Leyla, the first employees you hired when you were trying to get your business up off the ground. It’s odd seeing them like this—poised and elegant, looking nothing at all like they do during the long, arduous shifts at the bakery. Alice’s blond hair has been fashioned into an intricate braid, and Leyla’s brown eyes are lined with dark kohl and smoky eyeshadow. They clean up nice, you must admit.

Next to Leyla: Ella’s older sister, Hillary. They have the same piercing grey eyes, though Hillary’s hair is a shade lighter. You didn’t miss the sour expression that trundled across her face when you waltzed into Alex and Ella’s condo. She’s jealous, you think. Jealous that Ella chose you as her maid of honour instead of her. You’ve been ignoring her resentful glares for the better half of the night, letting her bitterness pass over you like a cloud. Whatever her problem is, it’s clear that the issue lies between her and her sister. You’re not getting in the middle of that.

It doesn’t help that she’s been fawning over Harry all evening. Upon witnessing her coquettish behaviour, you glanced at Ella, brows raised, but your best friend just rolled her eyes and yielded a helpless shrug of her shoulders. At least the attraction didn’t appear to be one-sided—that would have been humiliating, you think—because Harry gave as good as he got, chuckling sincerely and flirting right back. You had to suppress the urge to retch, and sent out a quiet prayer of gratitude when Ella and Alex sat them as far away from each other as possible at the beginning of the meal.

On the opposite side of the table: Alex’s groomsmen—Milo, Sasha, and Connor. You’ve been in their company a few times, mainly on birthdays and other special occasions. According to Alex, they all met when Milo accidentally vomited during their very first anatomy lesson at medical school. Milo insists that the putrid smell of the cadavers was simply too awful to bear, but everyone else claims that he just couldn’t stand the idea of being so close to a dead body. No matter the truth, the story always makes you giggle. The four of them have been good friends ever since.

The five of them, you remind yourself as your gaze settles on Harry, who is lounging in the chair directly across from you.

Harry—Alex’s best friend. Harry—Alex’s best man.

You wanted to rip your hair from your scalp when Ella broke the news. Several images flashed through your head all at once. You and Harry inching rigidly down the aisle, arms linked. You and Harry donning the same colours, your gown complimenting the spry flower pinned to the lapel of his suit. You and Harry flanking Ella and Alex while they recite their vows, glaring daggers at each other behind your friends’ backs. Even now, the mere thought of it has you biting down on an exasperated groan.

You don’t realise that you’ve zoned out until the faint quirk of Harry’s mouth catches your eye. You blink once to yank yourself from your daze, and clench your jaw when you find him staring at you with an amused look on his face. He places his elbows against the arms of the chair and clasps his hands together. Unmistakable smugness emanates from him, as if he somehow managed to crawl inside your mind and saw exactly what you were envisioning. Your nostrils flare, and you fix your attention back on Ella, who has reached the end of her speech.

“Cheers,” she says, holding up her glass. The champagne inside sloshes and fizzles temptingly. Would she allow you to chug the entire bottle, if you asked?

Everyone around the table mirrors her movements, raising their own drinks and touching them together lightly. Quiet, delicate clanking fills the room, and the friendly chatter resumes. You nudge Ella with your elbow, shooting her a proud smile. “That was great, El.”

She beams. “Thanks, cookie.” She then picks up her fork and motions to the plate in front of her, piled high with seasoned chicken and steaming, roasted vegetables. “Let’s eat.”

~*~

“Are you sure you’ve got him?” Alex asks Sasha, gesturing to the very inebriated Connor wobbling at his side.

Sasha wraps one arm around their friend, letting Connor rest his full weight against him. He bares two rows of perfect ivory teeth, flashing a wicked grin. “Yeah. Besides, I’ve been meaning to pay him back for the shit he pulled at the barbecue last month. There’s a Sharpie in my car.”

“You’re going to draw a dick on his face, aren’t you?” Alex muses.

“Obviously.”

With that, Alex bids them both farewell, shutting the door and heaving a dramatic sigh. Ella approaches him after a moment, hooking her chin over his shoulder and murmuring something indiscernible into his ear. He chuckles softly.

“Didn’t peg you as the voyeur type, sweetheart,” a low voice says from behind you.

You jump, whirling around and coming face-to-face with Harry. He’s got a green washcloth slung over his left shoulder—the shade brings out his eyes, a traitorous voice in your head whispers—and his arms are folded neatly across his chest. Your gaze falls to the collar of his black button-up, where he’s undone the first two discs, leaving his sternum exposed. Tendrils of ink peek out from beneath the dark material.

You frown and take a step back, putting distance between your bodies. “You’re such an asshole.”

“So I’ve heard.” His lips twitch, and he rolls up his sleeves. “Now, if you’re done ogling them like a lovestruck puppy, I could use some help in the kitchen.”

You grit your teeth, but follow him into the other room. Harry grabs the rag hanging over his shoulder and holds it out for you. You snatch it from his fingers without a word, and the two of you take up residence in front of the sink. Harry plunges his hands into the soapy water, rinsing the dishes thoroughly before passing them to you. You stand as far away from him as possible while you dry each plate, your movements stiff and choppy. This is not how you wanted to finish off the night, but Alex and Ella spent the entire day preparing the food, and it was delicious. The least you can do is spare them the hassle of tidying up.

The tense silence eats at you, until you feel like you might explode. Unable to bear it any longer, you hastily blurt, “Saw you getting pretty cozy with Hillary before dinner.”

Immediately, you want to kick yourself. Where the fuck did that come from?

Harry snorts, shrugging coolly. “We’ve hooked up a few times, but it’s nothing serious.” He shoots you a mischievous grin. “You jealous?”

“Of Hillary?” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Please. The woman’s standards are practically underground. Why else would she be interested in someone like you?”

Harry scowls, and hot satisfaction surges through your veins. Yes, the taunt was mean, but no, you don’t care. “You’re a real bitch sometimes, you know that?” he says.

You flash him a petty, insincere smile. “Only to you.”

He squeezes the yellow sponge nestled in his right hand, scrubbing it forcefully across a dirty plate. “Maybe you should find someone to hook up with. It might help get that stick out of your ass.”

“I have better things to do,” you sneer, narrowing your eyes.

“Better than sex?” He chokes on a derisive laugh.

“Yes.”

“Like what?”

“Like…things!” you snap, fingers curling into tight fists. “I run my own business, for God’s sake. And I’m going to make Ella’s wedding cake.” You announce the last part proudly, hauling your chin into the air.

Harry, however, looks unimpressed. He shakes his head, blowing out a heavy sigh. “Uh-oh.”

You pause. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs again, but you detect a hint of malice behind the action. “It’s just…I’ve seen the way you decorate cakes. Ella might be better off going elsewhere—you know, to an actual professional.”

Son of a—

“That’s rich, coming from you,” you say, motioning to the mismatched tattoos littered across his arm. “What would you know about professionalism? It looks like you let a preschooler doodle all over you.”

Harry bares his teeth in a feral grin. “Deflection. I’m not surprised.”

You bristle at his words. “Asshole.”

“You’ll need to get a bit more creative with the insults, sweetheart. I’m growing bored.”

“Is that so?” you say. “I think ‘asshole’ suits you just fine. Maybe you should have become a proctologist instead of a paediatrician.”

“At least I pursued something I was good at. I’m not sure if you can say the same.”

“You fucking—”

“Everything okay in here?” Ella asks, floating into the kitchen. You spin around to conceal your anger, placing your hands against the counter and inhaling deeply. You roll your shoulders back and slap an artificial smile onto your face before turning once more.

“Everything’s fine,” you say, and fake a yawn, covering your mouth with your palm. “I think I’m going to call it a night. I’m exhausted.”

Ella’s bottom lip juts out into a pout. Her red lipstick has faded, leaving only a stain of scarlet in its wake. On cue, Alex walks into the kitchen behind her, setting a steady hand on her hip and cocking his head to the side. “Hey. Everything okay in here?”

You nearly snort. Fucking soulmates.

“All good,” you tell him, nodding brusquely. “I’m just going to finish up with the dishes and head home.”

“Okay.” Alex presses a soft kiss to Ella’s temple, murmuring something about needing to get out of his stuffy clothes. You whirl, drying the last of the plates with frantic, shaky fingers. In your peripheral vision, you spy Harry watching you, but the stupid bastard must possess some scrap of self-preservation, because he keeps his mouth shut. You say nothing else as you whack the rag down onto the counter and stride out of the room.

You don’t miss Alex and Ella’s hushed whispers at the other end of the hall, but a little voice in your head tells you not to interrupt them. You halt at the front door, snatching your purse off one of the metal hooks mounted on the wall. You’re in the middle of putting on your shoes when you hear it:

“I was hoping we could arrange a truce, you know.”

You twist around, palm flying to your chest. Harry is standing a few feet away, his hands still wet with the water from the sink. He clasps them together and ducks his head, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think he was ashamed.

Something vile bubbles in the pit of your stomach. You gnaw on the flesh of your cheek, trying to reel your emotions back in. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of witnessing another outburst.

“Keep your fucking truce,” you spit, and wrench open the door. You shoot him one last withering look before stepping out of the condo and slamming it shut.

#be sweet #harry writing #lmao you can tell i've given up on posting my writing on tumblr cus i don't even tag it with the typical fic tags anymore 😭

[bonnymori]

𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲

Word count: 2760+ (i'll try to keep bigger lengths such as this one!)

Synopsis: You meet a new classmate who's working along Nanami, you think he's fun to be around, it stands the same to him about you. Later, feelings unravel.

Contents/Warnings: (1) Itadori Yuuji x gn!reader (2) FLUFF, TONS OF FLUFF - and some comfort (3) With the small participation of... Ino Takuma!! I really like him too, that's why <33333 (4) This is pretty platonic, but also not? (5) Ending turned sorta cliché... but I liked it u.u

A/N: This boy made me run rampant... to fhe point it's not single attraction anymore I just wish him happiness (smh if only my parents knew...) also next post will be Toji's fic pt. 2! Y'all see the first part is almost reaching 100 kudos????? I'M SO HAPPY EHSODJWKDKSJD- thanks for all the new followers and the support!! <33

Ever since his fake death, Itadori has been training alone with the help of Gojo - and now, he works along a freshly new face, who belongs to a senior, founds out ex-salaryman named Nanami Kento. He's far a thousand times more strict than Gojo. Itadori doesn't really likes the change, because Nanami is a person he can't get along. This whole guy's appearance scream "work 4 life"; he has proved different, now he screams "work is shit - but I gotta do it because others won't".

They've just finished cleansing the outside of a movie theater off a few curses, when Itadori hears shouting from far behind them. Two figures approach, waving excessively. He quickly picks on Nanami's tired sigh beside him.

"Nanami! We figured out you'd be here! Our mission has been finished and we wanted to catch up to have lunch together!" A male clad in a full black outfit shouts, he has brown hair and a beanie on top of his head, looking quite content.

The other person simply trots next to him in silence, approaching with a friendly smile. They notice Itadori faster than the male, smile widening and quickly waving hello, suddenly eager to reach up to them. The gesture makes the pink haired boy perk up, curious to why the other person looked so joyful. His question is easily answered, when they tug on the man's sleeve and motion to him.

"Ino, we have a third buddy!" The dude looks at him with widened eyes. "So nice to meet you, I'm Y/N L/N! It's great to see new faces around!"

Itadori smiles at your energy, knowing already he would click with you very well.

"I'm Ino Takuma, sorry for not noticing you before! Your uniform looks cool." Itadori exchanges a few compliments with Ino, before the man turns to talk with Nanami, leaving him and you together.

"Yes! I'm Sukuna's vessel, Itadori Yuuji-desu! My type of woman is Jenn-"

You turn to him. "So, are you a first year?"

"Geh? Weren't you dead though?!"

"I was!- I am!- Please keep secret."

"Okay!"

"Ahem." Nanami coughs, drawing attention. "I requested you two to not come after me today. Itadori here is the reason why."

"That's no problem, we're very capable of keeping secrets." You threw your arm over Itadori's shoulder, him nodding along with you.

"Oh really, then remember to keep quiet about it. I'll let this slide." The group of students nervously at Nanami's intimidating tone. "But, I'll get to have my break alone."

"Gah!" Ino exclaimed, watching Nanami walk away; he also left the responsability of taking care of Itadori for you two, leaving without a word. "It really had to be today, when Nanami would take us to his favorite bakery..."

"Crybaby." You teased. "Itadori here can't go outside where anyone can see him, he's dead. So, we were to order food either way because he shouldn't be left out."

"Augh okay, it would be unfair."

"So, where are you staying Itadori?"

"At Gojo's state!"

"Whoa, I've never been there before." Ino commented, waiting as you sent a message to Ijichi to pick them up.

"He's my teacher, a very cool one!"

"I imagine! Ooookay, once we get there I'll get the food."

Itadori felt as his chest would burst of excitement, finally there was people around him again, he couldn't be less happy about it.

"Sharing is caring!"

Itadori laughed as you wrestled with Takuma for some fries, netflix long forgotten in the background, as watching the banter was way more entertaining. Most of the time, Ino rambled a lot about Nanami, while he rambled a lot about Gojo. The guy even showed him the cool scar under his beanie. He felt kinda upset after explaining the exchange was just temporary, his stay under Nanami's wing wasn't decisive, and therefore, he was more like a classmate than a partner.

Itadori also learned a lot about you. He was surprised to find out that you, although energetic, was the one to speak the lesser in conversations. His surprisement grew even bigger when you told him you're a exchange student from Kyoto, arriving Tokyo about the same month as him - thankfully, you were to say for good.

Conversations flowed easily in the air, until a voice from the doorway barged in.

"Yuuji-kun! Don't forget about your lessons! Hi kids! Bye kids!" Gojo said playfully, throwing the familiar punching bear to Itadori before leaving.

"What's this thing?" Ino asked.

"It's to help me control my cursed energy. So while I watch the movies, if I don't charge it with cursed energy it punches me square in the face. I thought I had mastered this thing already, but he insist I keep training with it." Itadori grumbles.

"At least it's cute." You commented, taking a sip of your drink.

"Until it punches you in your face without warning!" The pink haired boy barks.

The talks died down, the three of you eating quietly when another movie is played on the screen. Itadori didn't bother reading the title, it was a plain one about a zombie apocalypse that got him extremely bored, yet he kept watching still so the plushie didn't punch him in the face again; he's been keeping a record since all his last cursed energy training lessons were a sucess to this day. When his head started nodding and eyelids dropping Itadori can't remember well, about fourty five minutes of movie perhaps? Make it fifty, the second slumber took over his body completely.

When he awoke once again, it was near midnight, the clock on the wall told him so. He also noticed a soft and warm surface supporting his head, figures, it's your shoulder he's resting into, he feels an arm around his own shoulders and your cheek placed upon his hair.

"Hey, it's late." You immediately notices he's awake, calling out softly. "You should sleep on your room, or something, better to your spine."

He chuckles when you poke his side. "But I'm comfortable here."

"I'm surprised, you just met me today, and now is sleeping on my shoulder."

"I'm not, that happens often to me."

"Sleeping on people's shoulders?"

"No! Making friends quickly." Itadori likes your gentle warmth, your hug, everything makes him feel at home. "I met two more people before you for two weeks, but they can't see me, because I'm dead."

"So I'll keep you company, that's my new mission."

His eyes widen at that, a oh so little blush covering the tip of his ears.

"For how many time I slept anyway?" He asks.

"About two- no, three hours. You missed two movies, and this one is about to end."

"And you stayed here the whole time?" He motions to your shoulder.

"Yep. That reminds me I gotta pee."

Itadori grumbles, but quickly lifts himself off you, respecting your needs. That gives him some time to look around, he notices Ino is gone, and the plushie sits quietly at the other side of the couch, unmoving.

"Y/N! How did you manage to make it quiet down?" He's beyond bafflet.

"...que."

"What!"

"I said!" You arrive quickly at the doorframe, hands still wet from when you washed them. "I used my innate technique."

"Oh! How is it like?"

"It's kinda funny, gimme a moment." You left to wipe off your hands, coming back in a second. "So, just like Shoko, I produce reverse curse energy, but it's quite different than hers, I can't heal people. That's why we often call it positive energy instead. I can use it to soothe off negative energy, so the bear has no cursed energy right now."

"How does it works on people?" He felt very curious about everything, asking away like a kid.

"Since everyone has negative energy, it just makes you sleepy really. But when it comes to curses it's really practical, I can either weaken it or, if the curse is like grade three or four, I can slap them off existence completely by wiping all their energy." You were naturally proud of having a such versatile power, your own energy swirling with pride around you.

"That sounds amazing! Is it why I fell asleep though?"

"Nah, only if I did it on purpose. I guess you were just tired, hope you don't mind I decided to let you rest today."

"No way, it was a good nap."

You nodded. "By the way, Ino left to attend to a drinking party, he paid for our food."

"Drinking? Is he old?"

"Yeah, he's twenty." You chuckled, already expecting that kind of reaction.

"No way! He looks young just like us!"

"That's totally my reaction after I learned he's twenty!"

After that day, you started visiting Itadori weekly to daily, after exchanging numbers he made a little group with you and Ino, naming it the "Nanami trio". But really, he exchanges more texts with you in private, be them memes, cool images he wish to share, etcetera. Although, Ino wasn't left excluded, he ofter brough his xbox to connect to Itadori's tv room and you all would spend hours playing together; he just didn't spend much time with both of you as much. And that was okay.

For a few days, your connection with Itadori died down when he didn't reply to your texts. They would remain unread for some time, the longest being half a day, until he would spam apologies then move on with the topic. That became a routine until one day when you came over to check on Itadori unnanounced, needin to ease off your worries about the boy, only to find him sobbing in the middle of a hallway, staring ahead and beyond, his back to you.

"Ita-?"

"Egh!" Startled, he scrambled to wipe his eyes, turning to you. "H-hey, um, hi."

"What happened?"

"I- he-" His eyes didn't met yours, knuckles white in a death grip. You notice he has a few bandages thrown over his face and arms. The way his shoulders are drawn, as if he wants to shrink into himself is something you've experienced before.

"Something hard to talk about?"

He nods almost immediately, head still facing down.

"It's alright, come with me." You reach for his hands, grimacing slightly when his forceful grip is now on your hand, yet you don't comment on it. He follows you through the state wordlessly.

You two stop on the same tv room, sitting down on the couch. You then guide his head to your shoulder, gently massaging his scalp with the free hand.

"It's alright."

Those two words are chanted like a prayer for the next half hour, at some point, Itadori twisted his body towards yours and unknowingly caged you between him and the sofa arm. He embraced you with a force you didn't have in you, like he didn't want to lose one another. Painful or not, not a muscle moved on your body. He needed a shoulder to cry on.

Thirty minutes passed like seconds, you peered down only to find the boy confortably napping against your bosom; at some point you just became the cold side of the pillow to him. That's alright. It brings you joy to be the mom friend anyways. So you decided to join the sleepland aswell, arms still secured around his shoulders and the back of his head.

It feels like the nap hasn't been long, though, because you can feel Itadori's grip loosening and therefore, you're awake.

"Sorry if I broke any bones, in advance."

"Wow, and you only warn me now."

He laughs at your comeback, hands still secured around your waist.

"I'm surprised you let me uh, cuddle you for comfort - and sleep. I don't understand it? You just make me sleepy." He rambled, keeping eye contact with you while his head still rests on your chest.

"That's a piece of cake when you have younger siblings who seek for you every night they get a nightmare."

"Does that mean I can come to you again if I have a nightmare?" There it is, his togepi-kirby cutesy face.

"Are you four?"

"That's mean!" Itadori blushed, squeezing you on his arms. "I like the contact. It puts me at ease."

"Mm, do you want to talk about it?"

He gulped. "No, not really."

Your peach haired friend remained silent, and so did you. It seems he doesn't intend in letting you go soon, or he just really forgot to mention it. It gives them time to think, your younger sisted used to do that sometimes, back in Kyoto.

"Y/N, wanna watch anything?"

"Sure, have you watched Parasyte before?"

"No, let's give it a try then!" Itadori glances at the remote, then back at you - making you confused over his hesitation to move. He notices you noticed it, chuckling nervously. "To be honest, I don't wanna let go."

"It's hurting my back."

"SORRY I'M SORRY!" He jumped away from you like a cat would jolt away from a cucumber, making you snicker.

"It's okay, I just wanted to change positions."

And to tease you, but he didn't need to know that part.

He glared at you with a small pout, typing the initials of Parasyte on the search bar. Outside his line of vision, you were grinning like a idiot, his sweeteness took a tow on you. All the people of Tokyo you met really held a way different spirit from your classmates in Kyoto, Itadori being the nicest of all. It's surprising him being Sukuna's vessel to begin with; being honest, you felt drawn by it.

"Y/N, it's startiiiiing." He cut your daydreaming short, slumping on your side and propping his head on your shoulder.

"This again?" You throw an arm around his shoulders, very much like the first time he cuddled himself on you.

"Don't blame me, you're the one who wanted to change positions. Guess I'll just make some alterations since I'm awake this time!" One of his arms went behind your back and circled your waist, hand resting at your hip.

"It's definely different, since the other time you drooled on me."

"Hhgh, okay okay! Let me enjoy this." For perhaps the actual first time, you're able to watch without exchanging words with one another.

And this time, it's you who's head loll to the side, nose buried on his soft rose perfumed hair. Itadori doesn't comment on it yet, his free hand moves under your legs to lift your whole body up efortlessly when he senses you have fallen asleep.

"I remember you said it's bad for my spine, I wouldn't mind it... yours however."

The boy makes a beeline to the guest room, he sighs when there is no choice but open the door with his foot. Inside, he places you carefully in the soft bed.

Before he could leave, a hand reaches up for his sleeve.

"Itadori," He turned, looking at you. "Make me company?"

He giggles softly - you think it sounds like a highschool girl. "You should start calling me by my first name!" Itadori rambles as he climbs on the bed, arms wrapping around your waist in a motion you're familiar with.

"Yuuji, I'm tired, let me sleep."

"But I wanna talk more..." He pouts. "Also, are we, um, dating?"

You wriggle around, bringing his head down to peck on his forehead, teasing. "Correction, I want to date you."

"Uh, oh." A blush coats his face so quickly, you'd say someone dumped a bucket of red paint on his face.

"Is that a no?"

"No!"

"So it is a no."

"Christ, will you stop teasing for a second, I'm trying to talk here." He makes an angry version of his togepi-kirby face, you can't help but grin.

"You amuse me, but okay. I'll do it for you."

"Thanks." He blinks, the blush slowly fading away. "You know, I lied, not about the contact, I like the contact nonetheless-"

His hand moves to play with yours, such as tapping his tips against yours, or meassuring the palms.

"-it's you who brings me comfort."

It's also your turn to blush, that line was seriously charming.

"Yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, we're dating now." You respond, a little eagerly. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

This is the best person I could ask for, Itadori thinks, keeping his eyes open as yours shut during the kiss, whom I won't change for anything else in this world.

When you both separate, Itadori feels drowsy and sleepy. His face fits perfectly on your shoulder as always.

"Goodnight, my favorite person."

#itadori yuuji x reader #itadori x reader #itadori yuuji fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic