#and spontaneously declared they were his

[stsgluver]

𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟓 — gojo satoru

synopsis. there's nothing more romantic than travelling halfway across the world for the girl you love... even if it is two years late.

wc. 3.4k

tags. none really, yn is described as shorter than megumi, possible ooc for EVERYONE, lowkey forgot how to write halfway through, possible spelling mistakes and plotholes (pls still like my writing i beg)

a/n. im sorry i never really got round to answering the comments on the last post but i have added everyone to the taglist who asked. so i did write two endings but one was bad SO i stuck to this one only <3 i hope this is the right end to the series and thank you sm for the support over the last few months!! i will have a 'spin-off-ish' series focused on the students making the videos in the first place which i will add the link to on this chapter once it's up. this is for @ilovejugs69 ly pookie

previous part / series masterlist

“this is such a bad plan.” 

megumi let out a small sigh, resting his head back on the leather of the plane’s seat. an economy seat – much to gojo’s dismay – but there hadn’t been much time to consider other options, bar gojo buying himself a personal private jet and hiring a pilot all in the space of less than an hour. 

the dark-haired student clutched the arm rests as he felt his stomach churn in knots as the reality of their decision sunk in. it was a very last minute and muddled plan but gojo was desperate to see you again and megumi wanted nothing more than to have his family back – so when gojo offered to take them both to the other side of the world to find you, he agreed a little too quickly. spontaneity was not his thing and with each passing second he was remembering why.

gojo shuffled himself back in his seat, nose scrunching up in annoyance as he struggled with the small gap for his longer-than-average legs. if his height wasn’t drawing the pair any attention (which it certainly was), the uniforms and the sorcerer’s blindfold definitely were. he didn’t need his six eyes to feel the stares of strangers. 

“i’ve never had a bad plan in my life.” 

megumi scoffed at the declaration, rolling his eyes at the white haired sorcerer’s misplaced confidence. like it wasn’t gojo’s idea to send megumi on that mission alone that ultimately resulted in yuuji swallowing sukuna’s finger or his idea to prank nanami on his birthday that got both himself and the first years all detention. 

“don’t roll your eyes at me, young man,” gojo lightly swatted megumi’s arm, wiggling one of his fingers in front of the younger boy’s face. “your mother will think i’m a shit dad and won’t come back.” megumi ignored the tightening in his chest at the casualness of gojo’s words.

“you are a shit dad,” he retorted, closing his eyes and willing the next seven hours to go by faster than they were. he didn’t hate flying, but he wasn’t the biggest fan, and the nerves that were building up alongside the nonstop chatter from the man beside him were definitely not helping.

gojo gasped and megumi felt him jostling in the seat next to him, he could only imagine the dramatics his teacher was pulling in public. it was best he kept his eyes closed. 

“that wasn’t very nice. god, teenagers and their angst these days.” 

megumi heard gojo mumbling loudly under his breath and there was no doubt in his mind that there was a cheshire grin on gojo’s face, daring him to take the bait and bicker like the mature adult he was. 

however annoying he may have found him, megumi knew that gojo was just as nervous as he was. the two, however, were just polar opposites in all aspects. so while megumi just wanted to spend the next few hours trying to sleep and hope he’d have the courage to face you when he woke up, gojo wanted to play avoidance by teasing him as if they weren’t travelling halfway across the world for you.

when megumi didn’t respond, to gojo’s disappointment, a silence settled between the two. with his hands now stuffed in the pockets of his uniform and head almost on gojo’s shoulder, the dark haired sorcerer attempted to finally fall asleep.

“do you think she’s mad at me?” megumi asked quietly after about five minutes. 

gojo hummed thoughtfully, looking down at the teenager almost asleep on his shoulder. “she has no reason to be mad at you,” he said in the most reassuring tone he could muster.

“she’s never messaged me back,” megumi countered.

“at least yours still go through.” gojo huffed lightly, an attempt at brightening megumi’s mood at the expense of himself but it only left both more unsettled at their predicament. he knocked his knee into the younger boy’s gently. “get some sleep, this is going to be a long flight.”

“if you just take a seat here, i will go see if ma’am is available. it’s so lovely to meet her family finally.” a woman dressed in formal attire gestured towards a small lobby waiting room with a bright smile. 

there was no one else in there apart from one middle-aged guy with a briefcase, newspaper in hand. gojo thanked the woman, hand on megumi’s shoulder as he led him into the back corner of the white minimalist room.

the sun had set by the time they’d landed and found your office building – something that gojo had forced shoko to send him. he hadn’t even had a chance to tell her what they were doing before he’d gotten on the plane so after she had a go at him for leaving her out of the loop and not bringing her too, she sent across the necessary details with demands for regular updates. 

“i bet she’s going to call security,” megumi sighed as he dropped himself down into the black leather seat, resting his head back against the wall behind him. between school and the plane journey, he’d been awake for nearly twenty hours and the stiff seat he was on felt like a pile of feathers. he was going to fall asleep before he’d even had the chance to see you.

gojo crossed one leg over the other, hands crossed behind his head. the teenager wanted to elbow him for his calm posture – he could have as well, he’d dropped his infinity the second the two had entered the building. the second the older sorcerer had stepped into the building he knew you were here, recognising the cursed energy that brought him a familiar comfort he’d missed. “why would she?”

megumi snapped his head in his direction, eyes opening to give him an incredulous look, “why would you say you’re her husband?” 

gojo waved a hand dismissively, “i basically am–”

“was. several years ago.” megumi countered and gojo’s mouth dropped open at the audacity of his pupil to point out the obvious facts.

rolling up the sleeves of his jacket, gojo began to stand up and megumi was close to cracking a smile at his behaviour. the delirium of not sleeping was beginning to sink in. “okay, kid–”

“you’re here.”

gojo’s sleeves dropped just as fast as megumi stood up from his seat, both more alert than they had been all day. suddenly, the uneasy feeling megumi had had on the plane didn’t seem so bad, this was so much worse.

you’d barely changed since you’d left, bar your hair being a few inches longer. if the two looked closely enough at you, they’d realise you were just as wrecked with nerves as they were as you struggled to stop your hands from shaking.

when the receptionist had first come up to tell you that your husband and son were here to see you, your initial reaction had been to say she’d made a mistake… until the cryptic message shoko had sent you thirty minutes earlier started to make a lot more sense. 

she was the only one you’d maintained regular contact with after you’d left. initially you had gone on a complete no contact with everyone, refusing to even acknowledge that you had a life and a family in japan. you were scared and you’d chosen the coward's way out by running. it felt wrong to still have strings binding you to a life that was no longer yours.

but you missed her and you worried constantly about gojo and megumi, so you’d slowly built up messaging her once a month to every few days just to know everyone was still alive.

you had desperately wanted to take megumi with you but you didn’t have it in you take him away from his sister and, despite how you’d laid into him about how even he had limitations, you knew megumi was safer with gojo than you. in america, you were vulnerable to curse users and curses alike without the protection of any other sorcerers or specialist schools to help you.

the three of you probably looked like idiots to the other man in the room, all staring at each other too afraid to make the first room. it felt surreal to all be together again. you were afraid your longing to see them again had reached a point of insanity, and they were afraid of spooking you if they got too close too quickly.

megumi was the first one to make a move, stepping around the rows of seats and the centre coffee table till he stood a metre from you. “hi.”

your hand covered your mouth as you had to tilt your head up slightly to keep eye contact with the boy you’d raised since he was only a fraction of your height. you may not have changed but megumi had – both his height and voice – and the guilt of leaving him behind was overwhelming.

“oh my god, you’re so much taller than me.” you moved closer to him to gently grab ahold of his arms as you took in how much he had grown. there wasn’t a day that had gone by that you didn’t regret and feel guilt for leaving megumi and you only hoped he understood why you left him so suddenly. taking a step back, you gestured to his uniform, “what’s jujutsu high like?”

the words were bittersweet. what had leaving achieved apart from heartache? megumi was still a jujutsu student and gojo was still japan’s lifeline. maybe you would live a longer life in america, but was the life you had now worth the one you’d left behind?

“it’s…” megumi hesitated before clearing his throat, “it’s okay. there’s two other first years, yuuji and nobara. they’re alright.” you smiled at his words, flashbacks of your own childhood crossing your mind as you remembered the innocence of your first year. it was fun being in a class with two prodigies, you were mini celebrities in a world of rich and powerful sorcerers.

“i’m glad you’ve made some friends, megs,” the nickname rolled off your tongue too naturally and if megumi closed his eyes, maybe he could pretend that you were all still in japan and you were just catching up after being away on a prolonged mission. you glanced to the other sorcerer in the room who had remained silent up until this point – although he had silently made his way over. “i’m going to go speak with satoru in my office and then can i take you out for dinner? to talk properly?”

megumi nodded a little too eagerly, “yeah, please. i’ll just wait here.”

“perfect. satoru?” the acknowledgement was all the strongest sorcerer needed to be following behind you, keeping a distance of several paces as you led him inside your office.

gojo rested his forearm against one of the large ceiling height windows in your office that overlooked the city. you had to be at least twenty stories up and the blaring of car horns was simply a hum, vehicles appearing as mini red and yellow dots on the busy roads below.

“nice view.” 

it was the first words he’d uttered in your presence and despite him being the one to initiate the venture to you, he had no idea what to say. this was likely his only chance to convince you to come back and he may have already screwed up by waiting as long as he had.

“what are you doing here?” you asked as you pushed your door shut, leaving the two of you in the privacy of your small office. it was nothing special; a chair, a desk with paperwork piling up and no photos whatsoever. there was no trace that you even existed beyond these four walls.

“don’t i at least get an ‘i miss you’? i just travelled over ten hours for you,” he said lightly, trying to ease the tension in the room but your voice was no longer as soft as it was when you spoke with megumi. the teenager had done nothing wrong – he was part of the reason you left.

“it’s been two years.” he didn’t have to turn around to know that your arms were probably crossed in front of your chest, your head tilted to the side as you waited for him to explain himself. except he thinks his past offences of stealing all of the sweets before halloween were a little more forgivable than letting you leave.

his hand turned to a fist as he dropped it from the window, turning around to look at you properly. “i know.”

both of you stared at one another, neither of you speaking as you took the other in.

“you chose them over me,” you accused. them being both the higher-ups and the whole of jujutsu itself. you’d given him a chance to have a normal life – a natural life in which you’d grow old together and die of old age – and he’d chosen the short life where he’d likely die before he turned thirty.

“you knew what you were signing up for,” he said and there was no malice behind the words though they still frustrated you. he was right to an extent, he’d sat you down after you’d finished school, just before he’d taken in megumi and given you an out. you chose to stay, fully believing that the two of you had already gone through your worst.

“i didn’t realise i’d always be on the losing side.”

“we weren’t always losing–”

you stepped closer to gojo as you held out your hand, counting each disaster after the other with your fingers, “haibara died, we almost died, geto defected, we took in megumi and the tensions between your clan and the zen’ins got ten times worse. you said you wanted to change jujutsu society and what had we done? i never knew if you’d come home to me after missions, it made me feel sick.”

“how do you think i felt coming home to a note?” you could count on your hands the amount of times you had seen gojo angry – and while he wasn’t all the way there he was teetering on the edge as he frustratedly lifted off his blindfold, throwing it onto your desk. in the same way you’d been desperate for him to hear what you were saying before you’d left, he was equally as desperate for you to hear him now. to see that he was here. “megumi? at least geto left for a purpose, you just left.”

it was an unfair dig – geto had committed mass murder, after all – but similar to the one that you’d pulled on him two years ago.

you clicked your tongue as you tried not to make it obvious how badly that made you want to cry, holding your hands up in surrender. “was it so wrong to want a life where i didn’t go to work thinking i would die? to want a future?”

“you were my future.” he sounded sad as he uttered them, and it looked foreign to see the gojo satoru look so dejected. there were only inches between the two of you now and despite the fact he towered over you, he appeared so small as he continued, “was i ever yours?”

memories of your late teenage years and early adulthood play out as a montage: from your first meeting when you’d both gotten lost on the train to school, to the tears you spilled as you finished writing your note and closed the door to his apartment for the last time. 

“of course you were.” your voice was shaky, no longer holding any bite. until the day you’d left, since you were sixteen, you’d never envisioned a life without him.

gojo’s hand reached out to push your hair back from your neck, the little white scars still tarnishing your flawless skin. it was taking all of your resolve to not collapse into his arms and have him hold you like you knew he would. you were sure you’d believe him this time if he told you he could protect everyone, that he was in fact able to be in six places at once and still come out on top. “come back with us please.”

“satoru…” you dragged off, looking away as you fought between listening to your rationale that reminded you that nothing had really changed and your heart that missed being in love.

“just come back,” he repeated, “are you going to tell me you’ve found someone else? that you enjoy your life here?” it was wrong and selfish, he knew it, to be convincing you the way he was – to even be here full stop – but he missed you and he wasn’t ready to let you walk away again.

“i can’t lose you.” hesitantly you pressed your hands to his chest. for a second he was scared you were going to push him away, but you didn’t, fingers tightening around the material of his uniform.

“don’t be silly and travel halfway across the country then.” his voice was just above a whisper now as he brushed his nose against yours. “hey, look at me properly.”

you complied without any hesitation – you always did when it came to him. two years of no contact but your body still reacted on muscle memory to the sound of his voice. never in your life had you ever seen eyes like his, of course you hadn’t, and you were still taken aback by the full blue colour as he gazed down at you.

“tell me you don’t want me to kiss you.” you did want him to. “tell me you want me to walk out of this room and not turn back and i’ll do it.” he wouldn’t have left without you.

“i missed you,” you whispered, and that was all he needed to duck his head down to let your lips meet. gojo’s hand slipped round to the back of your neck, tugging you impossibly closer as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip. you missed this, you missed him, and you were going to find it impossible to let go of him again.

only when your lungs ached to breathe did you force yourself to pull back from your ex boyfriend. gojo’s eyes were still focused on your lips and you didn’t doubt that if it were up to him, he’d be leaning to kiss you again. it was only the light push against his chest that held him back.

“what are we doing?” you asked, voice wavering from both the kiss and nerves. whilst there was no doubt in your mind that gojo was who you wanted, you had many reservations about reentering jujutsu society.

“about to ditch this place and go back to japan on a plane. all three of us.”

you brows furrowed together, “but–”

gojo held a finger up your lips, his other hand slipping into his back pocket, pulling out three plane tickets. “i already got your ticket, you don’t want it to go to waste do you?”

you lightly hit his arm and smiled up at him. he was grinning now and it didn’t need to be said aloud – he was yours again (though he’d never really stopped being such) and you were coming home. “that confident?”

“surprised you were able to resist me this long.” he pecked your cheek this time, a hint of tease in his tone like he hadn’t needed megumi to convince him to even enter your office building in the first place.

you let his joke slide with no rebuttal. “are you coming to dinner?” you hoped you hadn’t been keeping megumi too long.

“do you want me at dinner?” gojo asked.

you reached across to your desk to grab ahold of his blindfold and passed it to him. as much as you loved being able to see his eyes, you’d rather not be spending your first twenty four hours with him in bed complaining about a splitting headache. “i’m sure megs won’t mind. plus you can pay,” you added with a wink.

gojo raised an eyebrow, lips tugging up at the corners into a slight smirk, “oh so that’s the real reason why you missed me?”

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super sorry if ive missed anyone!

#snapshot ! #gojo #gojo satoru #satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x yn #gojo series #gojo fic #jjk #gojo fluff #gojo drabbles #gojo imagines

[yvnaology]

— FORELSKET: EUPHORIC FIRSTS.

(noun.) FORELSKET: the euphoria you experience when you’re first falling in love— the dopamine you acquire when you’re enamored, a fleeting feeling of pure and utter joy.

CHARACTERS. furina/focalors, lyney, lynette, freminet, ayato, wanderer & neuvillette.

CW. REPOST bc it wasn’t showing in tags, possibly ooc (fontaine characters), written BEFORE fontaine’s release, non-established relationships, this was written at 1 in the morning, not proofread, 1.3k words.

EXTRA. this was inspired by our dearest @/seelestia <3 (psst, hi lia!! i finally wrote something sxjksjsj 🩵)

GENRE. fluff, with bits of angst (depending on the character)

WANTING, NEEDING YOUR PRESENCE ALL THE TIME.

FURINA first realizes she’s in love when she finds herself wanting, no.. needing your presence all the time. You were one of the only people who could handle her ‘hysterics’, a trait only the most worthy people could have (in Neuvillette’s words). Whenever she stands in the courtroom, a part of her wishes you were there, with you around— the trials are a little less boring and a little more tolerable. Whenever she eats all on her lonesome, she wishes you were across from her table; waiting to ask her how her day went and receiving nothing but complaints of how uninteresting the latest trial was. Whenever you two take a stroll around Fontaine, much to her dismay, she feels at ease— not because of the sights of the nation she rules over, she’s seen them countless times; but because of the sight of you.

Any moment spent with you couldn’t be wasted on such monotonous activities such as taking a mere stroll around the city you were both accustomed to. The fleeting feeling she absolutely refused to acknowledge, the way her heart hammered in her chest, it all left her unsure. As soon as you came into view, the only thing she ever thought about was to stay beside you as long as she could.

OUT OF EVERYONE, I WANT YOUR EYES SPECIFICALLY ON ME.

Having all eyes on him, something LYNEY had grown used to, the attentiveness of the crowd, and the people who fall for his charms during each and every show. But, how is it that whenever he spots you, he has the urge to be even more spontaneous than he normally is? How is it that whenever you came into view, he tried a little harder to please the audience? Well, he was secretly hoping that you would be as pleased as the rest of them.

Even outside of his performances, he craves your attention, he craves for you to notice him. A small compliment from you on one of his magic tricks, and it leaves his heart fluttering. He had a mission, to impress you enough for you to potentially fall for him, or moreover, to impress you enough for you to see how captivated he was by you. A flame of determination in his eyes was evident in the way he declared that you’ll be even more amazed by what he had up his sleeves next. The next time he spotted you among the spectators, he sent a wink in your direction— and a performance that had you dazzled. After all, what is a magician if not an expert in stealing hearts?

WHAT’S IT LIKE? HAVING THE ATTENTION OF SOMEONE YOU LOVE?

Being the lowest-profile Magician's Assistant in the land came with its perks, with the absolute majority of their audience being more interested in her older brother than her. So when LYNETTE is faced with someone whose attention was solely placed on her, she has no idea what to do. The only thing she could think of was to shut you out like the others who have tried to attract her attention before. Unfortunately for her, you were persistent.

She even grew accustomed to your questions after a performance; from answering in at max, five-word sentences, to her answering them in complete detail with a blank expression. The warmth in her chest whenever you seemed almost flabbergasted at how no one seemed to be very interested in her, left her awake at night sometimes. Even her brothers noticed the small glint of light in her eyes whenever you came into her sights, though she refused to speak about it. The two noticed how a light cherry-red tinted her cheeks, almost unnoticeable, that only appeared when you were nearby. Her frequent small smiles were unbelievably rare, but they came so naturally when it came to you.

UTTERLY NERVOUS WHEN IT COMES TO YOU, IT’S A SIGN.

To pique FREMINET’S interest, you had to be patient and understanding with him. Much like his older sister, the young diver prefers to be out of the limelight. It was worse when others couldn’t respect that, with interviewers or just random strangers bombarding him with questions not even relating to his line of work, but that of his siblings. He wouldn’t have been able to stand it on his own, but you were there with your eyes narrowed— almost protective, making his breathing almost unsteady. You never pried into his personal life, knowing well how difficult it was for him to open up. You knew what questions made him uncomfortable, and which ones he was okay with answering, and the way he looked a little happier when you showed genuine interest in his profession made you proud to know you were doing something right.

He found himself admiring you, adoring you, and loving you. You already knew how timid he was, but you felt as if he was more nervous around you than anyone else. You pondered for a while whether you had done something wrong, but everyone around you knows that is far from the truth.

MAKING EXCUSES TO SEE YOU, WHILE YOUR NAME SLIPS HIS MOUTH.

KAMISATO AYATO knew he was smitten the moment he realized he was constantly making excuses to see you. You captured his attention, and even he wasn’t exactly sure how or even when it happened. The amount of times your name slipped out of his mouth while talking to Ayaka, was embarrassing, to say the least. You never cared about the fortunes of the Kamisato Clan, but even so, you knew he had his guard up during your first few interactions. How he gracefully appeared before you, with you taking it as merely a chance meeting when all of it was already planned in his head like a movie.

The first time Thoma had pointed out his ‘strange behavior’ before apologizing profusely for “butting into his business”, Ayato couldn’t find it in him to deny any of his retainer’s claims. You were awe-striking, so much so that whenever your name was mentioned anywhere— a small smile appeared on his features, illuminating what he desperately wanted to hide, his heart.

STUCK IN DENIAL AS HE BECOMES DEFENSIVE.

It became clear to everyone but the WANDERER that he felt this way towards you, or so they thought. He never gave it away clearly, but it was his defensive mechanism when it came to you that revealed it. He denied any claims, questions, his frown growing deeper when he even thought about it. Others thought of it as him dismissing you completely, but he thought of it as protecting the friendship you both cherished.

Nahida was the only one who understood his train of thought, with how desperately he held onto each moment you spent with him, she knew it was bound to come to this someday. It was rare, but at times she found him sitting under a tree— the corners of his lips turned slightly upwards as he reminisced to himself. Of course, if she made any outright claim, even if she read his mind and told him what he was thinking— he would deny it instantly. He held onto that flicker of flame in his chest so dearly, one that burned brighter when you came close.

OBSERVING YOU WAS ONCE MY DUTY, NOW IT’S HOW I LEARN ABOUT YOU.

Even those who eyed the Chief of Justice constantly wouldn’t be able to tell, but NEUVILLETTE was observing you from afar. He knew he had better things to do than to stare at you as you shop, but that thought never stopped him before. It was his job to observe you, to make sure you weren’t doing anything that would bring harm to the nation of justice. Right now, however, it wasn’t as much of doing his job as it was of him simply learning about you and your daily activities. Ever since you first stepped foot in Fontaine, he was observing your every move. At first, it was because a few people found your presence suspicious, but then he took a small interest in you— and even went as far as to strike up a conversation or two with you.

Your smile entranced him instantly, and before he knew it, his mind began to cloud with thoughts of you. It was almost contagious, the corners of his mouth turning upwards at the sight— though only a little. He picked up on every little thing with observation alone. Your favorite things, hobbies, dislikes, he found himself growing to learn them all. The Chief of Justice was loved by many, but now he has learned to love another.

© this work is created by @focarina. do not plagiarize, translate, repost to any sites nor claim as yours.

#lyney x reader #lynette x reader #neuvillette x reader #focalors x reader #furina x reader #freminet x reader #wanderer x reader #ayato x reader

[mira-miraaa]

♡ JJK Men Headcanons ♡

✧ summary: wondering how jjk characters would react to gf getting nipple piercings

✧ content: 18+ MDI, genital/ nipple piercings, sexual thoughts, fem!reader, masturbation, ejaculation, light fluff

✧ note: requests and constructive criticism are appreciated :)

♡ Nanami is the type to call you immediately after you text him you spontaneously pierced your nipples. The man would probably think it was a lie until he heard how serious you sounded. He would intently listen as you told him everything from beginning to end. Since he doesn't have piercings, he would admire your boldness and ask if you were feeling well. Yet, he couldn't help but worry. He assumed you would feel some discomfort. He immediately would go to the store to buy snacks and non-iodized salt for aftercare. Plus, he wanted to see the cute barbells decorating your nipples as soon as possible.

Upon arriving, Nanami's composed demeanor would dissipate. He would try to be a gentleman, but seeing your nipples against your tank was enough to weaken his knees. He would sit to conceal his growing erection, but once you straddled his lap, it would be game over for him. He would carefully remove the fabric from your body, praising your new look. He would place gentle, chaste kisses down the valley between your breasts, careful not to touch the sensitive buds. Despite his growing need, he wouldn't escalate the situation. Instead, he would suggest a movie night, slide your shirt back on, and place one more kiss on your lips.

♡ Suguru would definitely be thrilled. Being a piercing enthusiast, he would tell you how proud he was his baby finally decided to add some accessories. His mind would wander off, imagining his mouth sucking on your nipples, enjoying the taste of silver and your skin on his tongue. He knew he would have to be patient. Had to give your sensitive skin the time to heal, but just thinking about your pretty tits bouncing while he mercilessly fucked you made him hard. His impatience would win over, and he would facetime you, asking if you could show him. The sight of your breasts was better than he imagined. He knew the second they healed, he would show you how much it turned him on.

Soon after, Suguru would start asking what other piercings he should get. Suguru's pain tolerance was unfathomable, so it wouldn't be a surprise once he suggested getting his tongue pierced. The more he spoke, the more possibilities excited him. Finally, he would declare he would get a deep shaft. Of course, he would! He would talk about how good it would feel during sex. No doubt, he would schedule an appointment as soon as possible.

♡ Gojo, no doubt, would show up at your doorstep within twenty minutes. Claiming he was coincidentally nearby and decided to stop by for a short visit. It would be anything but a quick stop. He would shamelessly ask to see, gently cupping your breasts like it was his first time touching a pair of tits. While he admired your exposed body, the only thing infiltrating his mind was getting tit fucked by you. He already loved how his cum coated your neck and the curve of your breasts. Just thinking about his white semen coating your nipples would cause his dick to twitch.

Gojo would want to bend you over and go in raw, but he liked it rough. And considering your precautions to avoid infections or potential tears, Gojo's idea would be tossed out the window. Gojo would try to act nonchalant but eventually would cave in. He would plead to at least receive a handjob while he stared at your tits. To be fair, the poor man would try to contain himself, and his pathetic pleas would be more than enough to convince you.

♡ Toji? God, that man would be over the moon to see his girl and her new body accessory. He would tell you to send him pictures, and upon seeing your pretty body on his screen, he would lick his lips. And although you texted him, he wouldn't be able to touch them just yet; his mind would be racing with dirty thoughts. Toji loved fucking you in every position, but he couldn't wait to have you riding him. He would have the perfect view of your pretty face and jewelry piercing your perked nipples. The thought of you walking around wearing a camisole without a bra muddled his brain. Hell, he would go as far as to jerk off to the images.

Yet, his fist wouldn't satisfy his craving to have you fucking yourself on his dick. He would be frustratingly groaning in his bedroom, back leaning against his headboard, trying to reach his release. But no matter how tight or fast he went, nothing could compare to your tightness. Eventually, he would call you and ask - more like order - you to talk to him. To say his name. At the sound of your sweet words, he would finally come undone. Semen would drip down his shaft, and he would mutter what a waste it was. After all, the only place he liked to cum was inside of you.

tysm for reading <3

m.list

#jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk headcanons #nanami kento #gojo satoru #geto suguru #toji fushiguro #nanami x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #toji x reader #light smut #kento nanami #gojo headcanons #geto headcanons #toji smut #daddy toji

[orchidniins]

Do you write for George? If so can we get some smut💋 Loved your first, btw!!!

Island Loving | George Clarke

Summary: You and George are away on holiday, enjoying your time together, but you two can't seem to keep your hands off of each other. Pairings: George Clarke x afab!Reader Warnings: Mature content, Smut, Fluff Word Count: 4.6k A/N: Anon, thanks for the request! This took me so long to write, like I had planned to get this out 2 days ago, but oh well. This is also my first attempt at writing smut so I apologize if it’s a bit awkward. Also, this was originally supposed to be maybe 2k words, but I got carried away. Hope you enjoy!

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"You sure what I packed is enough?", you ask, rummaging through your closet, tossing clothes haphazardly in your attempt to pack for the hot climate.

"You've about packed the whole closet", George remarks, lounging on the edge of your bed. You shoot him a deadpan look as he continues, "We're only going to be there for three days, how many more clothes do you need?" he teases. "Didn't we just go shopping like a week ago?"

"Oh, piss off George," You playfully throw the shirt in your hand at him, hitting him square in the face, which earns a laugh from both of you. In that moment, a rush of gratitude floods over you for the amazing three months you've spent together. From spontaneous adventures to lazy Sundays in bed, every moment with George had felt like a dream and you truly felt like you were the luckiest girl.

You and George were friends before you started dating, and while you've been on group trips before, this would be the first time it's just the two of you. So when George surprised you with tickets to the Maldives for your birthday, excitement and anxiety swirled within you.

"You know what? I give up," you declare, throwing your hands up in defeat as you survey the chaotic scene in your closet.

As you start picking up the scattered clothing, George chuckles and joins in, the laughter lightening the mood. Despite the nagging feeling that you might have forgotten something, excitement bubbles within you at the thought of uninterrupted time with George. Both of you had been busy, making this getaway a much-needed break. And let's face it, having a shirtless George around all the time was a definite bonus.

———————-

As the sun began to set, painting the sky with vibrant hues of orange and pink, you and George lounged in the pool, the cool water providing relief from the day's heat. Earlier, you had spent the day exploring the stunning beaches of the Maldives, George's laughter echoed through the air as you both raced each other along the shoreline, the warm tropical breeze tousling your hair.

It was late afternoon, as you relaxed in the pool, George's toned physique glistened in the fading sunlight, his abs defined and glistening with droplets of water. He looked effortlessly handsome, and you couldn't help but admire the way the sunlight danced across his chiseled features. Leaning back against the edge of the pool, you watched as George swam towards you, his crystal blue eyes locking with yours.

"You know," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine, "I could get used to this view." His words were accompanied by a playful grin, and you couldn't resist teasing him in return.

"Is that so?" you replied, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you swam closer to him, your heart racing with anticipation. George's gaze softened as he drew nearer.

"Are we still the only one's here?", you question, scanning the area. You had been the only ones around the pool for hours now; the last few people leaving over two hours ago. George's gaze doesn't falter though, remaining fixed on you.

George closes the distance between you, the gentle rippling of the water drawing your attention back to him. An inaudible gasp leaves you mouth at the sensation of a hard muscle pressing into the space between your thighs, sending a wave of heat surging through your body.

His hands find their way around your waist, pulling you irresistibly closer, while his lips hover just inches away from yours. Your fingers trace the contours of his toned chest, feeling the warmth emanating from his skin. The tension between you was palpable, each breath charged with desire as you both leaned in for a kiss, igniting a fiery passion that consumed you both in a haze of longing and heat.

The heat of the pool seemed to intensify as your lips move in perfect harmony, the throbbing sensation between your legs growing more intense with each passing second. Despite the empty pool area, the possibility of an unsuspecting guest or hotel staff member stumbling upon your heated makeout session added an exhilarating edge to the moment, igniting a daring boldness within you as you contemplated just how far you could push George.

You trail your hands down his chest, savoring the sensation of his hard physique beneath your fingertips. George responds with a bite to your bottom lip, eliciting a low moan from you.

Your right hand moves down to rest right at the hem of his swim trunks, frozen there for a moment as feel George's lips disconnect from yours and attach to your neck instead. He begins to roughly suck at the soft, supple skin at the crook of your neck, leaving a dark red mark in the process.

You continue to tease him, relishing in the reaction he was giving you. You feel yourself getting wetter at the sounds of the deep guttural groans that escape his lips as your fingertips brush over his clothed cock. His groans get louder as he feels the constricting cloth of his swim trunks rub against his erection.

Your palm rubs harder at the bulge in his trunks, driving George absolutely crazy, and he hadn't even gotten his cock out of his trunks yet. George's grip on your waist gets tighter, his nails slightly digging into your side, the slight pain makes you wince in pleasure.

With a smirk playing on your lips, you pull away, moving your hand away from his cock and placing your hands on his shoulders, pushing him away gently. Your flushed face betrays the mix of afternoon heat and the arousal coursing through your body.

George protests, his voice husky with desire, "Don't test me, love."

You look at him innocently, a mischievous glint in your eyes, "What are you talking about? It's getting late, and we have other things to do. Come on," you say, slightly moving back in the water.

You turn around and confidently walk to the ladder, pulling yourself out of the pool giving George an enticing view of your glistening skin and the curve of your ass in your skimpy bikini bottom. You make sure to look back at him over your shoulder as you grab your towel and walk off, completely unfazed, leaving George hard and needy in the pool.

———————-

The rest of the day had flown by quickly, and now the two of you were getting ready to go out for your birthday dinner. You were all but expecting George to get you back for the scene at the pool, but so far, nothing ha happened.

You stood in front of the mirror, applying the final touches to your makeup. You were absolutely in love with your look; You had on a midi-length blue silky dress, its low back and plunging neckline accentuated your figure exquisitely and the thin fabric was an absolute god send in the hot Maldives' climate.

Meanwhile, George leaned casually against the bathroom door frame, already dressed in a linen shirt and a pair of olive slacks. His intense gaze followed your every move. To him, you looked nothing short of a goddess, and he still couldn’t believe how the hell he had managed to pull you.

“You look stunning tonight Angel”, George says as he walks into the bathroom, coming to stand behind you. Your dress did not leave much room for the imagination, or a bra, and he couldn’t resist the urge to touch you. As great as that dress looked on you, he thought it would look even better pooled around your ankles.

“Thanks Georgie, ” you replied, leaning closer to the mirror, focused on your eyeliner.

As George’s hands come up to rest on your hips, you straighten up, your exposed back coming in contact with his firm chest. The proximity makes you aware of just how close he had gotten. You look into the mirror for a second, catching George’s eyes locked on yours, his eyes dark and filled with unbridled lust.

It was a look you knew all too well. That hungry look was all you needed to know that George was extremely horny right now and that was enough to send the blood rushing down to your bundle of nerves.

Whenever he got like this, he tried to get as close to you as humanly possible, craving any form of physical touch. And when he called you "Angel", you knew there would be no reasoning with the man, especially after that stunt you had pulled earlier today.

His hands start moving up and down your waist, sending shivers down your spine. Though you had no intention of missing your reservation (which was very hard to get, by the way), you still wanted to see what else you could possibly get away with.

You lean down again, this time to put on your lip liner, subtly pushing your hips back ever so slightly more than before. You become acutely aware of the growing hardness pressing against your ass and his grip on your hips becomes tighter, confirming your previous suspicion.

George leans forward, brushing your hair to the side, and starts to gently pepper kisses along your back, the sensation leaving a delightful tingle through your body.

You stand up again, pretending to go through your makeup bag, doing your best to maintain a neutral expression on your face. Suddenly, you hear George let out a low chuckle from behind you. He leans down and whispers in your ear, "I know what you're doing," before placing a a few kisses behind your ear.

As George's warm breath tickles your ear, a delightful shiver courses through your body. He turns you around, your back pressing against the counter, his intense gaze locking with yours. A charged silence fills the air, thick with anticipation and desire.

"You've been doing this all day," George murmurs, his voice heavy with want. "Be careful there angel. Don't tease me if you can't handle the consequences of your little game." Your heart races at his words. With a subtle smirk, you lean in closer, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you.

He takes hold of your chin, tilting it upwards, the warmth of your skin under his fingertips sending a jolt of electricity through his body. You meet his gaze with a challenge in your eyes, your voice dripping with playful defiance as you taunt, "Oh, and what consequences might those be, Georgie?" Your hand rises, fingertips lightly brushing the flesh revealed by the unbuttoned shirt, teasing your boyfriend further.

You run your hands down his clothed abs, settling right above the hem of trousers. But before you could move down any further, he places his hand over yours, halting your movements. "Well, let's just say," he begins, guiding your hand to place it on the counter next to you while you grip his shoulder with your other hand "keep testing me and you might just find out."

A surge of eagerness courses through you at his words, and you playfully roll your eyes, trying to mask the effect he has on you. "Is that a promise or a threat?" you challenge, though your heart races with excitement.

With a devilish grin, George leans in closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. "Why don't you stick around and find out?" he murmurs, the air between you crackling with tension.

"I'd love to, but we have a dinner to get to," you say, slowly pushing at his chest, not wanting George to get his way so easily. But then, As George pulls you closer by the waist, your breath hitches, your back arching as you grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself. "Nice try." Before you can protest, he closes the distance between you, his lips engulfing you in an intense kiss, fueled by the tension building throughout the day.

He hoists you up onto the counter, his movements assertive yet gentle, as he deepens the kiss. You feel his tongue slip into your mouth and your hands move up to tug at his hair. You feel George's low groan reverberating through the kiss, adding to the intensity of the moment, all thoughts of dinner slipping away from your mind.

His lips travelled down to your neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses along the sensitive skin, each kiss only intensifying the need to want his lips someplace else. He kisses the hickey he had left earlier that day, sucking a little extra hard on the already sore skin. A moan louder than you intended left you lips and you could feel the bastard smirk against your skin.

His hands bunched up your dress, almost hiking it up to your waist, as George dug his fingers into the soft exposed flesh of your things. His fingertips traced a slow antagonizing path towards the place you needed him the most. As his fingers brushed against the fabric of your panties, he remarks with with a smirk, "Already soaking wet, are we?", The mere friction through your underwear was enough to weaken you, turning you into putty in his hands.

You hum in response, bucking your hips forward, craving more friction and pressure against your aching core. “Slow down there angel, I haven't even gotten started with you yet." he says in a low voice.

George gently lifts you up and slides your panties down to your ankles, taking them off and throwing them to the side, the cool air now hitting your exposed cunt. Suddenly, George's hands grip tightly behind yours knees, spreading your legs wider, pushing you back, your back now hitting the sink. "Fuck," you gasp, as he starts kissing his way closer and closer to your core. Each kiss and bite on the skin of your inner thighs intensifies the anticipation, making you wetter than you already were.

George's gaze fixates on your glistening wet cunt, his pants getting tighter just at the sight. With a hungry determination, his fingers spread apart your slick folds, "George…fuck," you moan as his tongue licks one long stroke up your throbbing clit, your entire body shivers involuntarily.

His tongue dives into you swollen clit, nipping and sucking at your sensitive core, sending jolts of ecstasy through your body, absolutely wrecking you with just his mouth. He flattens his tongue, expertly lapping at your folds, alternating with rough sucking motions. The sensation ignites intense pleasure throughout your body, and the friction of his beard against your clit sends electrifying waves coursing through you. As you throw your head back in pleasure, your hands glide down the collar of his shirt to grasp onto his back, your nails digging into the firm muscles of his shoulders, eliciting a low moan from George.

The lewd sounds of him absolutely devouring your pussy mix in with your gasping breaths filling the bathroom with an intoxicating symphony of desire.

"I-I…" you manage to gasp, your voice shaky as you struggle to form a coherent sentence. Your body trembles from the relentless jabs of his skilled tongue against your clit.

"Can't hear you love," George's murmurs from between your thighs, the vibrations causing a delicious hum to resonate through your folds, intensifying the pleasure pulsing within you.

"God, George! I'm so close," you stare down at him, utterly aroused by the sheer amount of power that this man had over you. You're dangerously close to the edge, feeling the impending release of your orgasm ready to spill over at any moment.

He could feel your legs trembling beneath his fingers. The dirty noises spilling out of you pretty mouth only pushed George to continue abusing your cunt. As he listens to you writhe and moan in desperate need, it's not enough to simply pleasure you with his tongue anymore; he wants more. He wanted to make sure you were fucked out properly, especially after the ordeal you had put him through.

With one final lick to your clit, he pulls away, leaving your pussy trembling. George then places his arms on the counter on either side of you, leaning in to meet you at eye level. You stare at him panting, cheeks flushed and a dumbfounded look on your face. "George.." you whined his name at the loss of contact, the cool air once again hits your now neglected cunt.

"Alright then, angel, get yourself fixed up", he says, his voice dripping with playful authority as he points in the direction he tossed your panties. "We have a reservation to get to." With a teasing smirk, he walks off into the bedroom. "Go on, finish getting ready, I'm waiting.", his words hang in the air, leaving you in a state of both frustration and arousal. There was an ache in your core that could only be satisfied by his touch.

You contemplate for a second, weighing if your pride was worth the sexual frustration for the rest of the night. It didn't take you long to make the decision, "Oh for fucks sakes George", you exclaim, your annoyance evident as you roll your eyes and scream out in frustration, "Get back in here, you wanker!" You wait for a moment, anticipation building, before George came back into view, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as he stands with his arms crossed over his chest.

"That's not how this is gonna work angel," George's words send a shiver down your spine, "If you want it, beg." the command in his voice igniting a fiery need within you. Pushing yourself off the counter, your legs shake as you step onto the cold bathroom floor. George watches you with a proud smirk, his eyes gleaming with want.

You slowly pad over to him, feeling the intensity of his gaze as you approach. Meeting him just outside the bathroom, you reach out, placing a hand on his chest, your fingers brushing lightly against his skin as you look up at him with hooded eyes. "George, please…" you begin, your voice thick with desire, but he remains silent, waiting for more.

"George, please… fuck me," you plead, your words dripping with longing as you meet his gaze. The air thick with tension between you two.

Your desperation draws a satisfied smirk to his face. He would have loved hearing you beg for longer, reveling in the power it gave him over you. However, the undeniable arousal stirring in his pants demanded immediate attention, and at this point, he couldn't resist the urge to simply lose himself in the act of fucking you.

George's lips attach to yours in a sense of urgency. He grabs onto your waist as he pushes you against the wall. "Jump," George says. Without hesitation, you obediently wrap your legs around him, your body responding instinctively to his dominant tone. His hands slide beneath your ass, supporting you effortlessly as he kneads your flesh. The kiss is raw and primal. Your hands instinctively come around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer.

The strap of your dress slips off in the heat of the moment. George seizes the opportunity, pushing the dress further down, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the room. A soft gasp escapes your lips at the sudden exposure, sending a thrill through your body.

His hands trail up to cup one of your tits, giving it a firm squeeze. George attaches his hot mouth to your bare breast, swirling his tongue around the nipple. You moan in response, your back arching instinctively as you press your tit into his face, craving more of his intoxicating touch.

"George…" you gasp between heated kisses, "I need you right now." With a sense of urgency, you unbutton his shirt. As his shirt falls away, your hands freely roam his body, tracing the lines of his muscular form before settling on his large biceps, feeling their strength beneath your touch. George leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, "You have no idea how much I've been craving you all day" he murmurs, his voice filled with hunger.

"Just fuck me already," you plead, starting to get more and more impatient. With a swift motion, George gathers you in his arms, carrying you effortlessly to the bed.

George lowers you down on the edge of the bed, your lips still locked in a fervent kiss. He reluctantly beaks away, feeling your lips chasing his, not ready to break your kiss just yet.

With a tender touch, he assists you in removing your dress, which had become bunched up around your waist. He steps back a bit as he begins to unbuckle his belt, you eagerly help him, your fingers unbuttoning his pants and discarding them to the side, leaving him clad only in his boxers.

Your eyes can't help but wander to the bulge straining against the fabric, his cock hard and throbbing with desire, a visible wet spot on his boxers from the precum. With a soft moan, you find yourself unable to resist reaching out to trace the outline of his arousal, your touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body.

He nudges you back slightly, and you eagerly comply, crawling further onto the bed, the desire to have him close reaching its peak. As you sit up on your arms, you take a moment to admire him, your eyes locking in a silent exchange filled with mutual appreciation and desire. George's gaze shamelessly roams your naked body, his admiration evident in every lingering glance.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid my eyes on Y/N," George says, his voice filled with genuine admiration. But to you, he was the epitome of beauty itself. In the dimly lit bedroom, illuminated only by the moonlight streaming through the windows, George looked like a Greek god, his sculpted abs, broad chest and shoulders, and thick, toned legs rendered him utterly irresistible. While it wasn't the first time you had seen him naked, it never ceased to amaze you just how perfect he truly was.

With his eyes locked on yours, George takes his boxers off, his hard cock springing out, finally free from its confines. The tip red and glistening with precum. He takes it in his hand and gives it a few good pumps. George then strides over to his open suitcase, retrieving a condom with a sense of relief that he had packed a whole box. He rips open the packet and slides it onto his length.

With a hungry gaze, he crawls onto the bed, making his way over to you. With a firm yet gentle touch, he pushes your legs apart, settling himself between them, ready to indulge in the passion that awaits.

He rubs the tip of his cock along your soaking folds, "George", you moan out at the sensation, hands digging into his biceps, urging him closer. George's mouth trails along your collarbone, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses that send tingles of pleasure courses through your body.

Without further warning, George slams into you in one powerful thrust, eliciting a strangled groan from your lips as euphoric bliss floods your senses. As he bottoms out inside you, pausing momentarily to let you adjust to his girth, a wave of pleasure washes over you. Even though he hadn't started moving yet, you already felt your orgasm on the brink of spilling over.

George grabs ahold of your hips, his grip firm as he presses your body against the mattress, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. The pace of his movements drives you crazy, your mind consumed with the overwhelming sensation of him inside you. "Holy shit, George," you moan out, the intensity of the moment turning you into a trembling, moaning mess.

Hearing his name on your lips sends George into a frenzy, his own desire matching yours as he speeds up his pace, each movement becoming more urgent, more primal. Your hands clutch at the sheets, knuckles turning white from the force of your grip as you surrender to the pleasure that consumes you both.

One of your legs instinctively wraps around his waist, drawing him closer to you as your hands come up to his back, pulling him close. You revel in the feeling of his weight pressing against you. As he thrusts faster against you, your whimpering moans fill the room.

"Fuck, you feel so good, Y/N," George moans, his voice laced with lust. "You take me so well, such a good girl." he moans. His words have you involuntarily clenching around him. The sensation elicits a groan from George, the pleasure of your tightness driving him closer to the edge as well.

The sensation builds with every thrust of his hips, each movement edging you towards your orgasm. "George, I'm going to c-cum, shit," you moan, the words escaping your lips in a breathless plea. Despite your impending release, his thrusts don't cease, his intensity driving you wild.

You can't think straight anymore, lost in the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you. "Fuck, please, I can't take it anymore… I’m so close," you whimper, pulling closer to the blissful release that only George can provide.

Your voice quickly begins chanting his name along with broken moans, intermingled with George's own broken groans as his thrusts start to become sloppier, signaling that he too was teetering on the edge.

Every muscle in your body tenses, your back arching as you're overwhelmed by your impending release. "Fuck, George, you feel so good inside me… George, ahh!!" you cry out, your release a raw moan as your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, leaving you seeing stars.

George continues his relentless pace, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. As your climax peaks, George follows closely behind, his release filling the condom with warmth as he screams out your name in pure pleasure, "Shit, Y/N!" The room fills up with a mixture of your moans as you both come down from your highs.

With that, George collapses over you, balancing his weight on his arms to ensure he doesn't crush you. Both of your bodies are covered in sweat, chests heaving against each other. His face nuzzles into your neck, and for a moment, you both stay quiet, just listening to the pounding of his heart—a melody to your ears.

You're the first to break the silence. "I should tease you more often," you say with a playful grin.

George pushes up to look at you, a playful smile dancing on his lips as he replies, "Don't even think about it, love." With a gentle motion, he pulls out of you and lands next to you.

With a contented sigh, George pulls you onto his chest, his arms wrapping around your shoulders, his hand gently playing with your hair. "Did you have a good birthday love?" he asks softly.

You look up at him and smile, "Yes, I did, Georgie. Thank you" you reply, placing a peck on his chest, feeling warmth spread through your heart as he sweetly kisses you on your forehead.

"Well, there's no way that we are going to be able to make it to our reservation," you laugh, acknowledging the obvious.

George chuckles in agreement, then asks, "Room service?"

You look at him and nod, "Room service."

The two of you spend the rest of your evening cuddling and enjoying your dinner overlooking the water from the outdoor seating area of your villa. The soft glow of the moonlight casts a romantic ambiance over the scene, creating a perfect backdrop for your special evening, knowing that you couldn't have asked for a more perfect birthday with a more perfect man.

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A/N: God, I suck at endings. I've been so stressed at work recently and all I can think about is going on vacation, it's all my brain let me write about. Also, Thank you to everyone who has been sending me requests, I'm absolutely loving all the ideas, keep em' coming!

Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Requests are currently open!! Or just drop in for a chat! 😊

#george clarke #georgeclarkey #george clarke smut #youtuber smut #smut #chaos crew #chaos crew smut #george clarke imagines #georgeclarkey smut #george clarke x reader #arthurtv #ChrisMD #arthur hill #arthur frederick #chris dixon #george clarkey

[just-jordie-things]

hello,,,, could you do 21 for gojo? 🤭

21: Kiss On A Dare ___

satoru should really learn to shut his stupid mouth. because as soon as he says it, he wishes he hadn't. he realizes his mistake instantly. his mistake being that his friends were relentlessly cruel assholes.

the four of you, satoru, suguru, shoko, and of course you, had thought it would be fun to have a little sleepover in shoko's room. complete with snacks, movies, and currently, truth or dare. a game you were all familiar with and loved to play during any free time you could find. mostly because you and shoko loved making satoru and suguru do wild and silly things to embarass them, and satoru and suguru loved making you and shoko admit your deepest darkest secrets to embarass you.

but it had always been in good fun! it was always just a way to pass time through laughter.

but no, they had to go and be assholes, satoru thinks bitterly now.

not you- never you, you were too much of a sweetheart to be as cruel as your counterparts. but then again, as you smiled at satoru with a genuine excitement for him to receive his dare from shoko, he actually relaxed a little.

and shoko's scheming, he can see it in her face, after he'd opened his stupid loud mouth, she's looking at him with torture brewing in her eyes, while she conjures up a plan to ruin him. he tries to look to suguru for help, but he's sporting a mad grin as his eyes widen with a similar look of mischief, before he's leaning over to whisper in shoko's ear.

"hey that's not fair!" satoru whines. "no scheming on dares!"

beside him, you nod along in agreement. how kind of you. so true to your agreement when the four of you had first started playing this game.

"we're not scheming!" suguru defends himself, hands in the air in mock surrender.

"yeah, and you're the one that said you weren't afraid of doing anything!" shoko reminds him of the words he so desperately wished he could take back.

because he already had an inkling of what they were going to make him do. and he had a feeling it had something to do with a little secret he'd indulged in them about just a few days ago.

he sneaks a glance over at you, curious to know if you looked as in on this plan as shoko and suguru seem to be. but your eyes are curious as they flicker between the two, just as intrigued by what they were whispering about behind their hands.

okay, at least they didn't go and spill the beans, satoru feels a glimpse of relief. it's short lived.

"i dare you to kiss the person you have a crush on, satoru~"

shoko sings his name with amusement and delight, a grin spreading across her face, one that suguru mirrors when satoru looks to him for some kind of help out of this.

before he can say anything, you're coming to his rescue.

"well that's boring, it's just us here," you say.

sweet, kind, naive you. satoru thinks he's going to spontaneously combust. shoko and suguru think they've finally found this god-like idiot's weakness. and how entertaining to find out it's you.

sweet, kind, naive you, with your adorable smile and bright eyes. you were so soft on all of them, it was amusing for it to turn out this way, for you to be the one to bring the over-zealous gojo satoru to his knees.

no one responds to your statement, which has you furrowing your brows as you tilt your head at the snickering pair across from you, before you're turning to satoru, tilting your head.

and then all too slowly, your eyes were widening and your lips were falling into a small 'o' shape. he thnks you've figured him out right away, and he feels his face begin to burn.

but then you're looking to suguru and shoko, your lips curling into a grin of excitement.

"no way," you say, a fit of giggles taking over as you glancing between the two, and then looking at satoru- who's face is now positively pink with embarrassment. "no way!" you repeat.

"yes way!" shoko declares with her own cackling.

satoru thinks her laughter sounds evil compared to the sweet sounds of your bubbly giggling. but he might be a little more biased than usual right now.

"yeah yeah, quiet your laughing" the white haired sorcerer waves a dismissive hand, before leaning forward over his legs, turning your direction.

you meet his gaze with nothing short of bright curiosity- and for a second when you lean towards him, he thinks you're going to beat him to the dare.

the next words that come out of your mouth silence the room, stunning everyone equally.

"who is it?"

you're whispering, as if his secret hadn't just been forced into his hands by the assholes sitting across from you. his jaw slacks, his eyes widen a bit as they stare at you, wondering if you were messing with him just like the other two, or if you were really this oblivious.

when you raise an impatient brow at him and shake your head a little, satoru realizes it's the latter. you really have no clue.

shoko barks out a laugh after a beat passes, but before she can blurt out the first comment that comes to mind suguru is grabbing her by the elbow and hauling her to her feet.

"come on zombie girl, let's go for a smoke" his offer is more of a command as he's dragging her along with him out the door. they dont fail to send satoru obnoxious winks and outward sticking thumbs before they're out of the room.

you watch as they leave you and satoru, before turning back to him, silently intrigued while you waited for him to break the silence.

satoru lets out a huff. his fingers are tugging at a loose thread in the rug underneath him. if he tore it up and ruined the seam, shoko was bound to be upset, but neither one of you paid it any mind now.

"can you, uh," he starts but hesitates, unsure of what to say now that it's all so obvious and out in the open. "can you close your eyes?"

you blink at him, once, twice, and then you give him a small nod before your lashes flutter shut against your cheeks. even without your gaze piercing through him so hard he felt it in his soul, he can't help the nerves eating away at his insides.

he leans closer to you, with every intention of kissing you quickly, just a simple peck, so fast maybe you could forget about it and never speak about this again. but as he enters your personal space he can smell your shampoo, and see the corner of your lips is tugged into the smallest of smiles.

"satoru," you whisper when you sense that he's leaned in closer. despite your eyes being closed, he finds himself staring at them, giving you his full attention. "do you have a crush on me?"

you can't help the way your smile stretches a little more, heart eager at the mere idea of him having feelings for you.

satoru watches as a blush spreads over your cheeks, as well.

"well i'm not kissing suguru am i?" he retorts, his instincts telling him to joke, to play it off, hoping that will ease the tension. but his voice is quiet and low, and it's missing that teasing lilt. you give him a small chuckle anyways. "smells like cigarettes all the time now anyways, since he started smokin' with shoko"

blindly, you press forward, placing your palm on the floor in front of you to help steady you. you can't quite tell how close he is so you hope you don't go crashing into him as you lean in. to your luck, you don't. but you're close enough that your nose ghosts over his. he doesn't retract from the feeling.

he wants to say something, he feels like he owes you an explanation, a proper confession, but with the way your breath fans over his lips in soft, minty puffs, satoru finds that he just can't stall any longer.

so he leans forward, maybe a little too fast as his lips crash into yours at first, kissing you excitedly. but just as quickly as the kiss was initiated, his mouth softens as he parts his lips over yours. his movements are gentle as he explores what kissing you is really like.

it's warm, it's sweet chapstick, it's gentle. it's your timid lips touching his carefully as you navigate him in the same way. you share a few more sweet pecks, just because you're not quite down with your exploration.

when you part, you're all heavy eyes, rosy cheeks, and lazy smiles.

now you both know you should say something, because that was certainly more than a truth or dare kiss called for. but your friends would be back from their smoke in a few minutes, and satoru must've also thought that time was of the essence, because he's taking your face in his hands and leaning in and kissing you again. ___

a/n: this is ooc but ONLY bcuz gojo would kiss suguru any day of the week NO questions NO hesitation and ALL tongue. but you've got him whipped and nervous and i wanted to keep it that way :) xoxo ~ jordie

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru x raeder #satoru brainrot #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #satoru #gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru fluff

[reconstructwriter]

Star Wars Fix-it: The Holonet Edition

The well-bribed algorithms of the Holonet should have relegated Tookruta1387’s clip to the tender hearts of a few friends. The days of spontaneous viral posts – without credits to grease the wheels – died not long after the rise of megacorps in the Republic. But the poster was either lucky or savvy enough to play the algorithms because “Jedi Being Cold” exploded. Screens, conversation, even news. And their post was just the start of a trend…

“Jedi Being Cold”: An old transport ship, frost coating the inside of its windows. A corner swathed in a nest of robes. Within three padawans snuggle together, fast asleep. If they were cats they’d be purring. One is purring despite a lack of feline attributes. A hand nudges them with a datastick, only for it to float away to a cloud of similar items.

“Jedi Being Cold” part 2: A snow-covered lake. One knight finishes sculpting a realistic snow tiger. Two others Force push each other like hocky pucks across the ice. One goes flying towards the statue. An expression of ‘oh crap’. Incredible, Force- assisted acrobatics deftly avoids the sculpture but crashes right into the sculptor in a tangle of limbs, sending them skidding into a snow-bank. The third Jedi pokes their head into the many-limbed hole and gets snowballed for the trouble.

“Jedi Stealing Children”: A child at a slave auction. A robed figure swoops in like a hawk, slicing through chains with their lightsaber and ripping apart cages with the Force. The camera pans to one slaver Force shoved into a cage, clearly furious as the Jedi escapes with a whole crowd of people, many children.

“Jedi Stealing Children” becomes the title for 1287 pictures, clips and gifs before someone adjusts the algorithm. This makes them surprisingly hot commodities on the Dark Holo, especially the one with a Nautolan Master dramatically fleeing the capture attempts of a horde of children – ending in one dramatic arm reaching out as kids bury him

“Jedi As Warmongers”: A young Padawan, blood splattered, has a ‘does it get better’ look on their trembling face as they stare up at their Master. The Master is even grimier and gorier as they gather their Padawan up with an ‘I’m sorry but no’. The Padawan weeps and shakes, burying their face in their Master’s robes, who has silent tears down their face. In the background is a war zone.

“Jedi as Warmongers: part 2” Has war holomovie music playing in the background as the snap-thumm of a lightsaber echoes, vivid blue piercing the dark. The blade raises over something, is brought down…over a block of cheese and loaf of bread. The Jedi padawan gleefully declares: “Grilled Cheese for all!” The sound of sprinting footsteps is heard and a dramatic “Noooo,” from a Jedi Knight.

“Jedi as Warmongers: part 3”: The music has switched to aftermath of war horror, the kitchen looks like a cheese atomic bomb hit. The children are cleaning up and one wipes cheese with bread and pops it in their mouth: “grilled cheese for all!” An adult admonishes “You spit that out right now that’s not sanitary.” In the background the Jedi Knight is doing the same thing.

“Jedi Showing Off” Is Yoda’s contribution to this mess – which is just him going through an entire stack of photo-albums on his previous padawans. He opens the last book to Dooku the Padawan when Dooku the Master barges in: “Stop this indignity immediately!” The camera shows an intense close-up of someone’s palm. “Who even taught you how to operate holo-video? –” feed cuts off.

“Jedi Dignity”: Feed resumes from a different perspective as Master Dooku – previous camera still in hand – gives Yoda and several other watching Jedi a lecture on appropriate Holonet-posting behavior. “Not appropriate baby photos are?” Yoda asks, a card-shark’s spread of pictures with Dooku’s baby face. Dooku yanks them out of Yoda’s hands. “Not without m-the person’s permission!” Does a double-take. “Are you filming –?” Horrified glower. “Mace you traitor!” Video abruptly cuts off. Permanently this time.

Not even algorithm adjustments – and there are clearly several – can stop that from becoming viral. “Mace you traitor!” becomes slang for the latest generation. Mace himself rolls with it. Dooku attempts to entomb himself in the archives until this all blows over.

Actions may speak louder than words but memes speak loudest of all.

#star wars #jedi #laugh rule #funny #jedi order #story #sort of #fix it #fix-it AU #OCs #random internet strangers #Yoda #dooku #Mace Windu #jedi oc #kit fisto #Yoda the trolling frog grandpa #Mace Windu's theatre nerdness senses opportunity #making fun of stereotypes #stereotypes #ReconstructWrites #Holonet

[poisonlove]

part 1 part 2

Lust +18 | Jenna Ortega

I sling my backpack over my shoulder and head towards the entrance of our classroom, a smile playing on my lips. Suddenly, a faint buzz emanates from my pants pocket. Confused, I stop to read the message.

Katia: Where on earth did you disappear to?

Katia: I've been waiting in the bathroom for at least 10 minutes!

Katia: [meme of a cat with a raised eyebrow]

I roll my eyes in annoyance and sigh in frustration.

Me: Had an unexpected issue.

I close the chat and step into our classroom. My eyes immediately search for Jenna among the desks, but her silhouette isn't visible. Surprised, I widen my eyes when I see her seated at her desk behind the lectern. Her brown eyes briefly scrutinize me before returning to her computer.

"You're late," she declares simply without bothering to look at me. "Sorry, Jenna," I respond still in shock, and the brunette looks at me again.

"I am Professor Ortega," she states seriously, and I blink incredulously.

I head to my seat next to Jackson, but the professor's voice calls me back.

"So? Where are the apologies?" I turn, nervously swallow saliva, seeing Jenna observing me with crossed arms while sitting on the lectern. Her eyes convey a mix of fear and excitement.

"Apologies for the delay, Professor Ortega," I mutter through gritted teeth, and Jenna parts her lips in a satisfied and charming smile.

Visibly irritated, I slump into the chair at the back of the class, shooting a glare of anger at Jackson.

"Where the hell were you? I've been waiting for you this morning!" I whisper through my teeth, trying not to attract attention.

"Sorry, had to take my brother to school…" Jackson looks at me guiltily. "Mom was in a rush to get to the hospital for her nursing shift and couldn't drop off Bill," he concludes with a small apologetic smile.

I knew the responsibility Jackson had towards his brothers, considering his mother worked hard to support them. His father, on the other hand, had run away years ago with a woman ten years younger.

"Okay," I say, smiling slightly, trying to ease the tension.

I sit down and start arranging books and supplies on the desk. Jackson, with a raised eyebrow, breaks the silence.

"I must say, the professor is quite cute," he comments mischievously, and I huff to tacitly emphasize his observation.

"Seriously," I reply, looking closely at Jenna. She looked so sexy while focused on typing something on the computer… her eyes fixed on the screen and her teeth absentmindedly nibbling on her lower lip.

Jenna looks up from the computer and glares at us.

"Are you done talking?" she asks with boredom.

"We?" a couple of students in front of her inquire, and Jenna rolls her eyes in response. "No, just these two," she declares, rising from her chair. Jenna walks around the lectern and sits on it, swinging her legs back and forth rhythmically.

"What's your name?" she asks seriously, looking me straight in the eyes.

Silence falls in the classroom.

"Martina Smith," I reply, feeling strangely intimidated. Jackson, uncomfortable, answers, "Jackson Mills."

"Smith," Jenna says, savoring my last name, smiling mockingly. "If you don't stop talking, you'll sit in the front row, okay?" she announces, and I open my mouth indignantly.

"Why do I have to be punished alone?" I protest spontaneously, but Jenna genuinely smiles.

"Because yes, last warning," Jenna warns, stepping down from the lectern with a look of boredom in her eyes.

"But it's unfair! The whole class is talking," I protest animatedly, but her stern gaze stops me.

"Come forward," she says seriously.

"What?" I ask as my eyes search for Jackson's, who is trying in vain to hold back laughter.

"Sorry, dear." Jenna walks slowly towards the girl sitting alone in the front row. Hayley was the typical girl who perfectly embodies the role of the class nerd: glasses, braces, and that annoying urge to prove she's intelligent. Hayley is cute, but certainly not my type.

"Yes… Professor Ortega?" she says timidly, and Jenna smiles sincerely as she bends down and rests a hand on her shoulder. "Can you gather your things and go back? To Smith's seat," she says, and I scoff at her statement.

Hayley gathers her stuff and quickly walks towards my direction, waiting for me to stand up.

Reluctantly, I rise, causing a dull noise from the chair, and collect my materials. I walk towards the front row with an irritated air, while Jenna follows me with her gaze.

Jenna walks towards the blackboard, turning her back to the class. My eyes intensely watch her ass before noticing she raises a hand and writes something with chalk.

Well, one positive thing is that I have a front-row view.

"My name is Jenna Ortega, and I'll be your literature teacher this year." The way she pronounces the words conveys authority and determination.

At that moment, a girl raises her hand, seeking permission to speak. Jenna grants her the opportunity.

"Are you the one who wrote the book 'Black Roses'?" she asks with curiosity, catching my attention.

Jenna responds with a confirming smile, "Yes, that's me."

The class is suddenly filled with whispers of excitement and awe. The girl who asked the question seems thrilled. "I loved that book! It truly changed my perspective on things."

Jenna responds gratefully, "Thank you, I'm glad you appreciated it. If you have any questions or comments about the book or any topic in class, feel free to express them."

"Is she a writer?" My question sounds almost surprised, and Jenna's eyes shift in my direction, putting me in the spotlight for her icy gaze.

"Yes," she says, clearing her throat, "but if you're wondering why I'm here, it's because I wanted to explore new frontiers," she says with a smile on her lips.

"We're glad to have you visit," a boy interjects, and Jenna looks at him scornfully without saying a word.

Jenna looks at the class with a scrutinizing gaze. "Alright, everyone, before we dive into the new topic, I'd like to know where you left off with the study of English literature. Anyone want to share?"

After a brief silence, a boy timidly raises his hand. Jenna grants him the floor with a smile. "We finished the year with Romanticism. We analyzed works by poets like William Wordsworth and Samuel Taylor Coleridge."

Jenna nods appreciating the response. "Great, Romanticism is a fascinating period. I hope you found exploring those texts stimulating."

Jenna smiles, "Today, we'll begin a journey through the Gothic genre in English literature. We'll explore works by authors like Mary Shelley, Edgar Allan Poe, and Bram Stoker. This genre roots itself in dark atmospheres, mysteries, and often delves into the recesses of the human psyche. I hope you're ready for an intriguing and often frightening journey into Gothic literature."

The bell rings, and Jenna claps her hands with enthusiasm. "Well, it seems our hour is up," she smiles widely as many students prepare their backpacks to change classes.

Before I can reach the exit, the teacher's voice stops me again. "Smith… can you stay for two minutes?" I sigh and walk towards the lectern. Jenna looks at me through her long lashes. "Have you learned your lesson?" she asks, surprising me.

"Lesson? I haven't done anything," I spontaneously say, and Jenna smirks mockingly. "Respect. I'm sorry for calling you a kid, but don't behave like one," she says, looking at me seriously. "And don't be late," she adds coldly.

I sigh, trying to avoid giving a rude response. All I can think about is how to earn points and get to know her better. "I apologize, Professor, but I'm the type who prefers to make an entrance with style," I joke, and Jenna looks at me indifferently.

My eyes move downward, and I see the gold ring on her ring finger. "Are you married?" I ask with curiosity and an indifferent tone. Honestly, the obstacle of marriage didn't matter much to me, and I was sure it wouldn't be a problem.

"Yes," she smiles, but her smile seems dim, almost forced.

I place my hands against the lectern and lean towards her, Jenna's eyes looking at me with confusion. I suppress a groan threatening to escape my mouth as I smell her perfume invading my nostrils. "You don't seem very happy," I say, invading her personal space and private life. "These are not your business, Smith," Jenna looks at me seriously, her lips thinning, erasing any trace of a smile.

Her indifference and coldness excited me to death… but it was still too early.

"I apologize, Professor," I swallow saliva and smile timidly, "now I have to go to another class," I say distractedly, and Jenna nods slowly.

"See you soon," I say, smiling slightly before leaving the class without expecting a response in return.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #professor #Professor literature #original character #oc #jenna marie ortega

[archonsabyss]

╰─..✶. [ Synchronicity ]

❒ pairing: neuvillette x fem!reader

❒ genre: romance! fluff!

❒ warnings: none

❒ wc: 2.3k

─❒ authors note: it was meant to be centered around neuvillette being the kind of partner to spontaneously grasp your hand, twirl you into his arms, and dip you 🥹. Only I failed. (same time line as Loves Embrace)

Nothing delighted Neuvillete more than having you around him. In your moments of leisure, he admired you with awe, and at your most occupied, he observed your every move with hawk-like precision.

You were a captivating distraction, the very embodiment of the word, or perhaps it was simply because he was taken by love. Nonetheless, it changed nothing when your mere presence claimed his attention, and who was he to deny what rightfully belonged to you?

Neuvillette adored seeing you engrossed in your work just as much as adored seeing you unwind. Yet honestly, he couldn't deny the heightened admiration he felt when your hands were full, your feet pacing, and your thoughts racing. Being one to avoid delaying assignments and duties, even though it meant resisting the strong temptation to occasionally set them aside, your unwillingness to subject yourself to the stress of last-minute urgency led you to steer clear of completing them just days before the deadline. This resulted in you shouldering the weight of overthinking and excessive stress, presenting a side that Neuvillete witnessed more often than not recently.

Currently, you moved in and out of his office. Your hands are piled with a stack of papers one second and empty the next. Given the considerable amount of walking you've undertaken, he could almost envision your feet leaving burning holes into the flooring, and he found himself smiling at the undeniable charm it had seeing you this way.

He was meant to be occupied, though his work lay untouched for nearly an hour. The pen, originally poised to inscribe crucial signatures, was reduced to a playful trinket dancing between and around his fingers. As for his eyes, adorned with lengthy lashes and an intense gaze, designed to decipher words and traverse lengthy paragraphs, were diverted from their intended task, fixated instead on watching you.

The deep furrow of your eyebrows conveyed the presence of a multitude of thoughts racing through your mind, trying to recount all that had been done and all that still awaited attention. There were moments of abrupt pause when you would freeze midway, surveying your surroundings with a hint of confusion before swiftly returning to rummage through his desk drawers in search of whatever you needed.

It was an adorable sight, one that threatened to unravel Neuvillette's sanity. It melted him akin to snow yielding to the touch of the summer sun.

After a while, Neuvillette abandoned the attempt to fulfil his daily tasks, finding himself seated on the couch, his legs crossed, sipping from a cup of tea you so generously poured for him.

He was mildly disappointed when you chose to carry on with work rather than join him, and to some extent, he's experiencing what it must have been like for you during those moments when he was the one waltzing back and forth, entangled in the intricacies of court hearings. Performing a duty that demanded his complete focus, in a realm where his presence was marked by the dance of legal proceedings and the weight of judgment, a period he could not escape from; it dawns on him the unfortunate synchronicity of your lives— a constant alternation where one is busy while the other is available.

However, if he looks at it from a different angle, he's forced to acknowledge the depth of love that must prevail for your relationship to withstand such challenging circumstances.

How could he not revel in such news?

Indeed, he has made an effort to better fulfil his duties to you as he declared a few weeks back. He discovered a more adept approach to balancing his commitments to Fontaine and you, allocating his time and focus, and he's relatively satisfied with his efforts. Archons know the joy is palpable as you rejoice in having him home earlier, enveloped in your arms whenever the opportunity arises.

'Embrace.' It echoes in his heart and surges through his veins, a shiver tracing up his arms. He steals a glance at you, seeing your scrunched-up nose as you flip through a document. You're seated in his chair, by his desk, in his office, with his pen clip peeking out from your messy hair.

Neuvillette appreciates that your job does not demand your constant in-person attendance like his does; its flexibility, granting you the freedom to move and work at your discretion. He finds joy in having you near, even though you're engaged in actual work and not solely showering him with the attention he desires at the moment. The mere presence of you working nearby is sufficient. He has the luxury to gaze at you, savouring the sight of your beauty for as long as he pleases.

Over time, his fingers become restless, and his cup of tea, long finished, rests on its saucer, no longer a distraction for his hands. His eyes shift between you on his left and the focal point of his view. He sits up straighter and clears his throat, causing your head to lift, your gaze connects with his.

"Are you o─ Archons!" You exclaimed halfway, eyes widening with realization.

"What's the matter, my dear?" He feels compelled to ask, concern quickly rising as he anticipates the worst.

"I've just recalled something," You inform him, already hastily making your way to the door.

"Mhm," He hums, reassured upon hearing that nothing too dire has happened. Before he can utter much else, you've already left.

When you return, it is as if you've completely forgotten he had something to say. You walk in with a subtle sway in your hips and it amuses him that you remain blissfully unaware of just how much that, by itself, is irresistible.

As you pass the couch where he sits before you can move out of reach, he rises, covering the distance in one long, elegant stride, he gently but firmly grasps your hand. With a subtle motion of his wrist, Neuvillette has you twirling on your feet, a graceful spin reminiscent of a swan on water.

With seamless finesse, he draws you towards him in one fluid motion, raising your joined hands in the air as you fall against his chest. Securely enveloping you with his arm, he finally dips you, a moment of romantic flourish that leaves you breathless and in a state of disarray.

A surge of warmth floods your cheeks, the sensation more felt than seen as you blink once and then twice. Gradually, your shocked gaze meets his, captivated by his pearl-like orbs and the grin playing at the corners of his lips.

The sight above you weakens your knees, fortunate enough to be held tightly in his arms ensuring that even if they faltered, he would be there to catch you.

"Do I not relish witnessing my beloved fully engrossed in her duties" His voice echoes with a deeply rich tone, akin to honey sweetening the senses. His words are sincere and brimming with honesty, expressing his genuine enjoyment in witnessing you fulfil your responsibilities with such vigour.

"No, I-" You stammered in your feeble attempt to respond, tripping over your short and flustered breaths.

"Each instance I believe I cannot possibly deepen my affection for you, I find myself proven wrong." He chuckles, lifting you from your dipped stance and turning you to face him. He places his arm at your lower back and pulls you snugly against him, chest to chest.

"Merely weeks ago, it was you who demonstrated patience while eagerly anticipating my availability. Now, I find myself in awe, understanding the sentiments involved. To be aware that you belong to me, yet unable to capture your attention for more than a fleeting moment. To know your hand perfectly fits in mine, yet rarely being able to hold it at every moment. To understand that my home is shared with you, yet seldom feel your body against mine. Truly, it is a form of torment"

"Neuvillette," You murmur, sultry and dripping with tenderness.

'Say it again' Internally, he yearns, 'Say my name again'

"It's nothing for which you need to apologize," He reads your thoughts, shaking his head emphatically, a gleaming smile reassuring your conscience. "However, it is not a sin to take a breath, dear. Take a moment to replenish yourself, and then you may return to your duties"

Neuvillette gently leans down, planting a tender kiss on your forehead before unravelling his hold on you. His hand entwines with yours, and he lifts it to his face. Plush lips, as soft as the gentle stroke that traced over your hair, venture towards the pinned strand, subjecting your poor scalp to a tingling sensation. He places a kiss on the back of your hand just as your hair falls freely, standing on end.

A lighthearted chuckle escapes him as he gathers your hair the best he could, and redoes its updo, now in a much neater fashion.

"There" Your heart leaps as he completes his actions.

You stand with an air of innocence, your bottom lip slightly protruding, and wide, innocent doe eyes peering into his soul. You struggle to swiftly absorb the unfolding events, and Neuvillette complicates matters further with his following statement.

"Just so you know, my dear, my lap is entirely at your disposal for you to sit upon while you work"

With that, he separates himself from you entirely, striding up to his desk to resume the work he abandoned hours ago. He refrains from looking back, but he knows of your flushed and flustered state, and it leaves him content with the knowledge that he can effortlessly divert your mind with his affection, unknowingly helping you ease and forget your troubles.

"Well, then?" He arches an eyebrow expectantly.

You nibble on your bottom lip, dispelling the shyness and embarrassment and accepting his invitation.

"Hardly possible to concentrate on work when you're so close to me" You murmur under your breath, though he catches your words. He speculates that may have been the reason you've been avoiding him while working.

Neuvillette settles his chin atop your shoulder, you huff, "I was almost done"

"Mhm"

"Really!"

"Mhm"

"Neuvillette!!"

"I have yet to utter a word" He buries his nose in the curve of your neck. "You're free to resume your work at any time, provided you stay comfortably settled on my lap"

"I still need to review one last draft!" You exclaimed, slumping against his chest. "It's my last project for the year."

"I'm aware," He says.

"Tomorrow, I may not have the energy or inclination to do it, who can say..."

"Calm yourself" He soothes, "You have a full week to review it. You've been toiling diligently, exhausting yourself. Spend a moment with me, will you not? And if perchance, tomorrow comes, and you find yourself lacking the motivation to address it, know that I am more than willing to review it on your behalf, Dearest. You need only ask"

The office space fell into silence, devoid of even a pin drop. No gentle breeze whispers through the windows, nor does the sound of flowing water fill the air – a serene tranquility envelopes you.

Neuvillette's gloved hands cradled yours, the touch of leather against skin formed a gentle connection despite the barrier. Amid the playful intertwining of your fingers, the work he had set out to complete was once again abandoned, fading into the background along with his focus.

In that instance, he shed the mantle of Chief of Justice to Fontaine, simply a man sitting there with you nestled lovingly in his lap.

Despite your efforts to delve into at least half of your concluding assignment, your concentration wavered, ultimately leading to a decision to just surrender to the moment. This led to a transition from academic pursuits to the pleasures of shared intimacy.

Your heart pounded with unbridled intensity as you observed the graceful movements of Neuvillette's fingers intertwining with yours and cradling them tenderly. He repeatedly flexes and tightens his grip, seemingly grappling with the surreal presence of the moment.

Leaning your head back against his chest, both of you share soft breaths, his heartbeat creating a soothing rhythm that gently lulls you into a deeper sense of tranquillity.

Neuvillette entertains the notion that something might have been amiss as you extricate your hand from his grasp, briefly leaving him in a state of mild perplexity. But he remains silent, and observant, and then finds contentment when you take his right hand and peel away the glove to unveil a canvas of porcelain-like hands and slender fingers. You renew the connection his hand extended towards you moments earlier, this time it's a better harmonious encounter of bare skin against skin─ a perfect equilibrium.

You bestow a gentle kiss upon the inner part of his wrist, your thumb tracing the intricacy of veins lining his skin.

"We have a lifetime ahead to spend with each other, do we not?"

"I envision myself nowhere else but at your side" He answers.

"Then I hope to spend every chance we get, like this" You say.

"There is nothing I desire more, nothing I cherish more, nothing I yearn for more" He whispers into the curve of your neck, warm breath teasing, accompanied by the gentle ghosting of his lips and peppering kisses.

Each kiss conveys a longing for your touch, your voice, your smile, your presence. Regardless of the uncertainties that may unfold in your future, irrespective of the challenges you both encounter as partners or individuals and no matter the hardships stemming from your responsibilities and duties to others, as well as the mental or physical struggles that may attempt to separate you. Finding the smallest of opportunities and making the most of every second to embrace each other, nothing could part you.

Not the vast universe, a multitude of realities, alternate dimensions, nor the Celestial entities beyond his influence.

☣ copyright @archonsabyss all rights reserved // do not copy; steal; plagiarize; reword or repost my works to any other platform! No translations!! All credits to original owners of characters/anime/pictures that are not my own!

#˚ ⁀🜙˚ raie (g)enshin #neuvillette x female reader #neuvillette drabbles #genshin impact neuvillette #neuvilette x reader #genshin neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #neuvillette drabble #neuvillette oneshot #neuvillette fluff #neuvillette fanfic #neuvillette x you #neuvillette x y/n #genshin x female reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin drabbles #genshin oneshots #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette headcanons #neuvillette hcs #genshin headcanons #genshin hcs #fontaine

[syrupfog]

Law thinks he has it figured out. 

That scrawny kid who just wandered into the university’s yearly flu vaccine clinic Law was manning and just DECIDED that Law was his new best friend— Luffy, he said his name was. Monkey D. Luffy, as if anyone could take that name seriously.

Law thinks he’s figured it out, though. How Luffy CHOOSES the people he does, and adds them to his group. 

(not that Law is IN his group, absolutely not). 

Sanji’s the most obvious one. He’s INCREDIBLY useful, no one could deny that. He cooks obscene amounts of food for everyone.

Nami, too, feels like a given. She has CONNECTIONS, knows how to use them, keeps records and receipts and organizes all the parties that Luffy spontaneously seems to decide on. She’s the brains. 

Zoro Law struggled with at first, the man seems to just think about swords—

but seeing them out in public, Law realizes he’s like a human guard dog, leering over Luffy’s shoulder at anyone who disagrees. Chopper seems a little young— is the kid even in undergrad?— but he’s first aid trained and Law’s seen him put it to use on numerous occasions already.

Now Nico Robin— how on EARTH Luffy managed to make friends with the youngest tenured professor GLU has ever had is beyond Law, but she has connections in academia the way Nami does on the streets. Law would bet money that Robin’s the only reason Luffy is still enrolled.

Usopp’s an odd one, but he’s… well, funny might not be exactly the right word. Entertaining. And more importantly can fix anyone’s computer or phone within an hour. He adds weird features when he does, but his work is solid.

Franky is a GIVEN, he’s the one with the converted old double decker bus — Law didn’t think they even HAD those here — and auto garage. Luffy says the word and he’ll fix anyone’s car free of charge. It’s ridiculous what Luffy can get people to do.

Brook is also obvious. Most famous musician this side of the East Blue, how on EARTH did Luffy meet him? Regardless, the man’s surely a millionaire slumming it with the rest of them for the chance to play what he wants to play and be appreciated for it

Jinbei was confusing until Law learned how they met — that protest that Luffy (along with half his crew) were arrested at last semester. Professor Emeritus in the law department, he was once famous for organizing protests around campus, and eagerly bailed them all out.

So, Law’s figured it out. As much as Luffy SEEMS like a carefree brainless soul, he’s been strategic from the very first step, surrounding himself with everyone he needs to stay on top. He’s incredibly devious, honestly, Law’s almost intimidated.

He also knows that this means he doesn’t have a place among them. 

As much as he’s always planned on being a surgeon, things just don’t work out sometimes. Like when your adopted uncle frames your adopted father for tax fraud and make it look like HE’S a millionaire—

Meaning you suddenly end up with a dad in jail AND getting rejected for FAFSA. No money, no loans, one single scholarship that Law’s about to be dropped from. Sorry Luffy, you’re going to have to find a surgeon somewhere else. Chopper will be good enough, surely.

He tries to separate himself from Luffy, but that’s easier said than done, as Luffy sticks to him like glue when they’re in the same place. The man’s incorrigible, impossible, guileless, brazen… 

Law ends up yelling at him in the middle of a party thrown at Jinbei’s house.

Shouts that he’s dropping out, failing, not going to live up to whatever role Luffy’s recruited him to fill. Tells him to find another surgeon, they’re a dime a dozen on med campus anyway. Storms out before he does something dumb like tear up.

Oddly enough it’s Usopp who follows him. 

He sits down next to Law, looking stiff and uncomfortable, and declares that he “knows what Law’s going through”, which feels, well, patently untrue. 

“I did this like a year ago,” Usopp says. “Tried to tell him to drop me.”

They’re sitting on the curb. Law scrunches grass between his fingers and stares at the road. 

“I had a car,” Usopp says. “She was BEAUTIFUL. Best car you’ve ever seen. Two hundred miles to the gallon and ran on French fry grease.” 

Ah, this is one of those stories.

Usopp deflates. “Then she died,” he says. “We’d just met Franky and he told me she was beyond repair. Then he offered up that bus he has, replacing her before she was even in the ground yet! And like, I’m not going to say he was replacing ME, but like—“

Law nods. 

“It’s not like I had a lot going for me anyway,” Usopp says. “Not compared to Nami or Sanji or Chopper. I thought I was just lucky Luffy found me early, when his standards were lower.” He laughs, but there’s no joy behind it.

“Anyway,” he picks at the laces of his shoes. “That car’s at the bottom of a lake now, may she rest in peace. And after I tried to pull what you just pulled, Luffy really fucking let me have it.” He ducks his head. “Told me I was being fucking stupid, and he was right.”

He glances up at the sky and Law watches, a queasy feeling in the base of his stomach. 

“Turns out,” Usopp says after a long pause, “Luffy really does just choose people he likes.” He sighs. “You’re just lucky, actually, because I don’t think he’s liked anyone as much as you.”

Law grimaces. He doesn’t FEEL lucky. 

Usopp, taking his queue, stands up. “The sooner you admit what you’re dealing with, though, the more he’s able to help.” 

Then he leaves Law alone. 

And Law… finds he doesn’t want to BE alone.

He slinks back into the party maybe twenty minutes later. It’s chill. Brook is taking song requests. Sanji is handing out grilled halloumi. 

Luffy immediately walks up to him. “Why didn’t you TELL ME,” he asks, indignant. 

“What, that my life is a mess?”

“Everyone’s life is a mess, silly,” Luffy says. “But we can HELP, duh.” 

“I think even YOU can’t keep me from getting kicked out of GLU,” Law says. 

“No,” Luffy agrees. “But HE can.” 

He points to Jinbei, sitting at an old yellowed desktop computer in the corner.

“I have friends in the law department who haven’t retired yet,” Jinbei says. He has small spectacles perched on his nose. “They know people. Sending a few emails now.” 

Chopper walks up to the two of them, looking shy. “I can help you study,” he says. “N-not that you need it!”

Nico Robin comes over, cocktails in each hand, pushing one of them into his. “Student services is accommodating,” she says. “If you know who to ask.” 

“YOW!” Shouts Franky from the couch. “And I just hacked their system and changed your grades!” 

Law chokes on his drink.

“SEE?” Luffy huffs, crossing his arms. “It’s FINE. You freaked out for nothing!” 

Law squints at him. “And if it’s not fine, Luffy-ya? If none of this helps and I still fail out of school?” 

Luffy purses his lips. “Duh, then you can just come live with me.“

He looks incredibly petulant. “It’s not like I like you BECAUSE you’re a surgeon. I like you because I asked for two of every shot and you said I’d have to choose a fake name instead of telling me no!” 

Ah. He did do that, didn’t he.

“And anyway, *i* don’t have a degree and I’m fine!” 

“You’re GETTING one,” Law points out. 

Luffy looks at him like he’s lost it. “I attend classes because they’re fun,” he says. “I don’t even have a high school degree, I don’t care about that stuff.” 

…huh.

“Now come on,” Luffy says, wrapping small boney fingers around Law’s wrist. Zoro’s going to play snooker with me and I need you to watch to make sure he doesn’t cheat, because I don’t know the rules.” 

And Law follows him. 

And follows him. 

And follows him.

And when he starts his next semester with his dad out of jail because Jinbei’s connections are honestly a little scary, and when he doesn’t sleep for three days in a row during finals week, and when he gets into the exact fellowship he wants, working under Marco himself—

Law follows Luffy. 

Because nothing else makes sense. 

Law hasn’t figured Luffy out at all But he’s figured everyone else out. Understands the magnetism they’re all drawn to. 

And when he falls into bed with Luffy at the end of long days and weeks, He knows he’s the lucky one.

#lulaw #lawlu #my writing

[merakiui]

Fwb Vil "let's set soke ground rulea" and some "lets keep this secret"? He seems like the type of guy to lay down a bunch of rules and try to keep things way too professional

Oooo yes yes!!!! And the deeper you stray into the fwb, the more those rules seem less and less viable. <3 setting rules only to later break them... >:D

(fwb dialogues)

Somehow you've found yourself in Vil's bedroom.

Well, perhaps somehow isn't the right word to use in this instance, considering you knew this was coming. You can't just go from practicing lines to kissing like fools in love with the Vil Schoenheit without proper acknowledgment. It was slightly more complicated than that, sure, but the fact still stands that both of you got carried away. In the aftermath of mutual lust, you proposed a deal. Surprisingly, Vil agreed and now you find yourself discussing logistics in his room.

Not the trajectory you were expecting, but it's exciting nonetheless.

"If we're going to make this work, we'll need to establish a few things first. So with that in mind, let's set some ground rules," Vil declares, eyeing you sternly.

"I'm all ears."

"No marks of any sort. That includes bruises, scratches, and bites."

"Can't you cover them with makeup?"

He narrows his eyes at you, unimpressed. "Can't you mind your teeth? I'd rather not waste my supplies touching up marks that could have been avoided."

"All right, sure. No marks."

Nodding his approval, he issues you a pleased smile. "We'll schedule our meetings in advance. My days are busy and I can't afford to fit spontaneity in at my leisure. I trust you have no issues with this?"

"Fair enough." You suppose sex isn't much of a priority for either of you. Academics and work should come first. Or, if you're irresponsible, it'll be you before any of that.

"As for locations, we'll limit it to my room or yours at Ramshackle. Absolutely nothing else outside of that."

"Not even an empty classroom?"

"Especially not an empty classroom. Do you not realize how easy that makes it for anyone to catch us? The gossip practically writes itself."

Your lips droop in a pout. That's no fun. But you suppose it makes sense. In a school where gossip travels fast and far, the last thing you want is to be shoved into the limelight over something so shamelessly carnal.

"Most importantly, this relationship is strictly confidential between the two of us. Let's keep this a secret. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal clear," you agree with a smile. That seems to reduce some of the tension in Vil's shoulders, for he assumes a posture less rigid than before. Still just as perfect, but now he appears comfortable in your presence. Relieved, almost. "I get it. The media would eat this up if they knew. You're trying to avoid that."

"Precisely."

"All right. Now that that's taken care of, let's make it official. Shake on it?" You extend your hand, but he holds his up to stop you.

"One more rule."

You tilt your head, curious. "I thought we went over everything. What more could there be?"

"This is strictly physical. We're already well aware of where we stand in terms of emotional attachment, so I should hope I needn't clarify again."

You blink at him. Of course. Romance. Right. The forbidden line.

"There's no need to worry about that. I don't plan on falling for you anytime soon," you tease, taking his hand in yours and shaking firmly. "My heart's not that weak, Vil."

His lips lift in a proud smirk. "How coincidental. Neither is mine."

And thus the deal is sealed.

#twisted chit chat #meraki dialogues #spoiler - the two of you fall in love despite that >:)

[aastarions]

18+ (suggestive), drabble (577 words), reader wears panties

Zhongli who occasionally "charms" your boss down at the docks early in the morning while you're still sound asleep among his silk sheets – buttering him up with (real) promises to put him in touch with Hu Tao for future sponsorship opportunities, as well as praising his assortment of baked goods (often purchasing some in bulk) – all to finish his little quest by off-handedly mentioning that you're feeling a tad "under the weather".

Your boss is quick to reassure him that you can take the day off and pick up a shift another day to make up for it, none the wiser to the smug grin that curls at Zhongli's lips before he hastily parts ways to return to you.

On the other hand, you know exactly what sort of day awaits you when you feel your boyfriend shuffling underneath the many blankets, hands eagerly reaching for you as he drags you close to his warm embrace.

"Zhongli..." you warn, more like whine, through your half-awaken daze, "where were you?"

A rhetorical question, really. Both of you are well aware of his shenanigans, but he provides his usual answer nonetheless, "I was merely going for an early morning stroll, dear, but coincidentally I happened to saunter right past your boss-"

"-and blah, blah, blah, he gave me the day off...right?" You're wide awake now, eyes no longer bleary as you shoot him a pointed look.

But, surprising to absolutely no one, he's entirely unphased, "Precisely."

"You're unbelievable," you scoff, but find your resolve crumbling (as usual) as he lets his golden fingertips drag along your jaw, "you could just ask me to spend the day with you, or we could plan a day together when I'm already off from work."

Zhongli continues to make his argument, eyes half-lidded as he watches his thumb press at your bottom lip, "I once read in a novel that one of the many essences of mortal pleasures is spontaneity."

“One of many mortal pleasures?” You reiterate, allowing yourself to fall for his little game once and for all.

He lets out a soft hum in acknowledgement, shuffling the two of you until you’re pliantly beneath his larger frame. You appear ethereal before him; his button down that you adorn poorly attempting to cover your chest, your flimsy panties digging into the plush of your hips, the cor lapis necklace that he forged for you glimmering oh so beautifully against the morning sun's rays. Zhongli doesn’t think he could be more in love, that in all the years he has walked upon this soil he has never felt such a way for any single living being. 

But now is not the time for such strong declarations of his utter devotion to you, he chuckles to himself, swiftly falling back into this “little game” of his with practiced ease, “Yes, many, would you care to explore these other mortal pleasures? It would be my honor to demonstrate for you, dearest.”

You’re quick to nod your head, keeping another bout of laughter from Zhongli at bay as you lean up and smack your lips onto his. Sure, eventually you’re going to have to convince this man to learn how to properly plan days for the two of you to share together that don't involve his scheming, but it’s really difficult to complain when he goes through all that effort just to spend the morning with his head eagerly between your thighs…among other things.

#im rusty pls let me live #zhongli x reader #c.writings

[wolfpackss]

Hi, if you can, please write something about Seth Clearwater imprinting with a very playful girl who loves to tease him and make him shy and nervous like lifting his shirt or kissing his cheeks, or else a scenario where they go to a school dance together and he declares his old crush on her. Feel free to change the things you want, thank you so much❤️

I love love love Seth! I had a lot of fun writing this. Thank you so so so much for requesting something. I’m new at this and English is not my first language so I’m sorry for any mistakes. As you can see I went a little overboard with this one haha! Hope you enjoy!

“Are you serious? You wanna take me to the dance?” Seth could feel his cheeks warm up and he began stuttering a little. “I mean, if you want to. If you don’t that’s okay, it’s just I mean” Seth rambled on and it made you giggle a little. The last dance of the year, your last year. Your last chance to tell him how you feel. “I mean it’s the last dance and I’d like to spend it with my best friend” Seth blushes as he finishes his sentence. You slightly wince at the last two words but manage to smile. “Last dance, Seth. You and me” you share a smile.

You and Seth have a little complicated relationship. You are playful, sarcastic and very spontaneous while he’s very shy, quiet and soft. He’s always nervous about everything, even if it’s just talking to you. You are just friends but that doesn’t mean you don’t have feelings for the boy. The feelings started very early on in your friendship. You saw him evolve from a boy into a man.

Little did you know he’s feeling the exact same thing. He’s always so shy but knew you were right for him the moment he saw you and it all became clear the older you became. You are no longer the little girl he fell in love with, you are the woman he loves. And he plans to do that for the rest of his life, starting with the night of the dance. The perfect setting.

Three weeks later you’re waiting in the living room of your home with your parents who are beaming at you. “You look so beautiful sweetheart!” Your father holds up his phone to take picture number 300. You roll your eyes at their enthousiasme. “He’s here!” Your mother rushes to the front door to let Seth in. He walks in and you let out a small gasp as you see him. He’s wearing a black tux with a white undershirt and black bow tie. He’s holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a small box in the other. He hands your mother the flowers, giving her a small kiss on the cheeks and shakes your fathers hand.

“You look absolutely stunning” he leans down to kiss your cheek and you beam up at him. “I know right, I’m wearing a dress. I mean, that’s something” you joke and he smiles back. You look at the box in his hands and he opens it. A gorgeous corsage is laying there, matching the color of your dress. “How did you -“ you abruptly look at your mom who looks away sheepishly. You and Seth grin at each other.

The entire evening is full of laughter and jokes. You tease Seth throughout the evening and he just blushes or looks away smiling. When the dj announces the last dance of the evening, Seth takes your hand and leads you to the dance floor. “No stepping on my feet, Clearwater!” You laugh at him as he puts both his hands on your hips. He softly squeezes them as he laughs with you. “Just dance, beautiful. And listen to the lyrics while your at it” he whispers in your ear.

The song More than friends by Meghan Trainor and Jason Mraz comes on and when I listen to the lyrics I softly laugh. “You trying to tell me something or?” You try to joke but you fail miserably when he looks at you with a small smile. Your heart starts beating rapidly against your chest and you can feel your hands become sweaty.

“Yeah I am, beautiful. I have this stupid crush on you that turned into so much more. This is my last chance to tell you how I feel and I though maybe this would be the right moment. I love you, I think I always have. I don’t want to be your best friend, I want to be more. I want be the one you think about when you wake up and when you go to sleep. I want to be the guy that you point at and say “that’s my man” when you’re with your friends. But i get it if you don’t want that or if you don’t see me like that, I mean” you cut of his rambling and push your lips to his.

“I’m yours Seth, always have been” he smiles and kisses you again.

Last dance, last chance. And you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

#seth clearwater #seth clearwater x reader #Seth Clearwater request #Seth Clearwater blurb #Seth Clearwater fluff #seth clearwater smut #Seth Clearwater angst #Seth Clearwater x you #Seth Clearwater x y/n #twilight imagine #twilight #wolf pack

[wedonthaveawhile]

Baby Garreth, and where to find him.

Garreth Weasley x MC

Inspired by her desire to see mermaids, Garreth brews his Herbology partner a potion as a gesture of his affection. Cue the inevitable chaos and peril.

AO3 // Word count: 4.4k

Can be a standalone fic or read as a prequel to Crimson and Clover

Had Garreth been asked for his opinion on the Heroine of Hogwarts a few months back, you likely would have been treated to such eloquent critiquing as: "Bit of a teacher's pet."

There was never any intention to offend; tactful words simply weren't his forte—as proven by the way he inadvertently voiced this opinion directly to her face on the day they were assigned as Herbology partners.

He was only teasing, possibly with an underlying motive of reverse psychology. He had felt her eyes drilling into him while his own ogled the snakeweed—a rare ingredient, almost impossible to obtain by non-thievery means. He thought implying his witness was a snitch might prompt her to look the other way to prove him wrong.

When he tried to execute his nifty little scheme: Pocketing the goods while hoping fifteen students and a professor weren't looking (a tactic that boasted a commendable twenty-three-percent success rate), the snakeweed had vanished—as had his partner.

A middle finger if he'd ever seen one.

Her assault on his pride. Her flawless execution of theft. Her exemplary eye for valuable plunder—It was one step shy of a strip tease, and Garreth had been chasing her tail ever since.

These fresh circumstances might offer insight into why he was currently trudging through ankle-deep mud on yet another lap of the kneazle pen.

His timing had been impeccable—A passing stroll coinciding perfectly with the end of her Beast's class, setting the stage for a spontaneous walk to Herbology together.

Professor Cockblock must have had some trivial errand to palm off to a trustworthy student and was holding back the obvious choice for a briefing.

Just because Garreth had formed new opinions didn't mean he'd relinquished the old ones. Teacher's pet was, unfortunately, terminal.

At long last, the tardy witch bounded down the steps of the hut. Considering Garreth's feet were now encased in a three-inch layer of sludge, he was surprisingly light on them. She remained oblivious to him sauntering up behind her until his shoulder met hers in a clumsy bump.

He grinned as she shot three inches skyward with a hand clutched to her chest. The profanity-laden gasp that followed was the cherry on top.

How she wasn't routinely dismembered during her trips into the forbidden forest was nothing short of a miracle.

"Surprise."

She branded him a twat, delivering a retaliatory shoulder-bump with a slight more force than necessary. "What are you doing lurking around out here?"

"Quidditch practice wrapped up early, so I figured I'd take a stroll."

"A gorgeous morning for it," she chirped as drizzle splattered their faces.

"Caught sight of my favourite botanist and thought I'd put her survival instincts to the test."

"Results?"

"Atrocious."

"Blame it on my hunger," she sighed, booting a pebble in frustration. "Do you think we have time for a detour to the kitchen? I'm starving."

Garreth couldn't relate; he was stuffed to the brim with sweeties. The head of Gryffindor always whipped up a batch of red velvet cookies for their Quidditch meetings—something to do with flying the house colours and fostering team unity. A cloying sentiment, but if they earned him brownie points, who was he to complain?

Quite the wingman was Aunt Matilda.

"Fear not, sunshine. I've got you covered," he declared, fishing around in his pocket and producing a stack of the stolen treats.

"Oh, you do come with perks, Weasley."

"In Garreth, we trust."

The primary ingredient of his perks was fluff from his pocket lining, but she graciously overlooked that detail.

"How did the meeting go?"

"Eh, alright," he shrugged as he shouldered open the door and used a drying charm to restore his sodden hair to its usual wayward refinement. "Team building can only get us so far when the entire Slytherin team is equipped with the latest Nimbus."

Her proceeding moan could have been interpreted as one of sympathy or indulgence as she took a mouthful of sickly scarlet sustenance. "You could shave off your mane; you'll be more aerodynamic."

"Genius. I happen to be a dab hand at hairless potions, ask Leander."

Her ensuing sideways glance was a sly one. If Garreth were a presumptuous man, he might have thought she was checking out the ginger vista.

"Don't, though," was her conclusion.

"But I want to be a speedy boy."

"On your hair be it. I hope there's a nice-shaped cranium underneath all that," she said with a swooping gesture that implied his hair was three-feet wide.

"And if there isn't? How do I make egg-head look good?"

"Ask Leander."

Garreth glanced at her with a grimace of guilt. "He did not make it look good. Poppy mistook him for a golden snidget on three separate occasions. And a testicle on one."

His face lit up as he bathed in the golden glow of her laughter.

Professor Garlick was palpating leaves as they descended into the greenhouse—regaling her students on the metamorphosis of herbage as the wind slammed against the windows and sent the trailing plants into a wild frenzy.

They bypassed the lecture and gathered the equipment to carry out their assignment. Garreth watched the analytical projection suspended over the plant pot twinkle in his partner's eyes as she assessed the growth since its last inspection.

She was a vision.

An english rose.

Worthy of a Chocolate Frog Card.

Probably already on one.

He ought to go find it.

He unwillingly shifted his attention downward when asked his opinion on its condition.

"Beauty in its purest form," he declared as he twiddled a leaf between his fingers, though the sentiment wasn't directed at the foliage.

"Do you think?"

"The crème de la crème of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

"I didn't know you were so fond of mandrakes."

"Mm-hmm, marriage material if you ask me."

He went too far with that one, and she shot him a strange look, "Is that a joke?"

"Dead serious, sweetheart."

Her cheeks flushed at his honeyed words, and she hid it by bobbing under the desk to fetch the cotton balls.

"Here," she declared to the underside of the table. "You'll need some ear protection; we need to repot your wife."

"Saucy. We've been looking for a third."

She muttered a phrase popular among the muggle-born students—something about God giving her strength.

Garreth dismissed it as a term of endearment.

Having successfully ploughed his wife, the witch bent over the worktop to scribble down some notes for their theory assignment. As luck would have it, Garreth found himself conveniently positioned behind her. In a moment of whimsy, he indulged in a passing fantasy wherein the screaming atop the bench wasn't solely the mandrakes' doing. Their fictitious romp was cut short when she turned to Garreth with an expression implying he had just been posed a question.

They locked eyes for a transient moment.

"Hello."

"What can be brewed with mandrakes?" She repeated, fluttering the quill over the title of her notes: Potions.

The blood ascended back to Garreth's brain, which he used to fuel a monologue. He began with healing elixirs, then progressed to combative and defensive tonics. She was very impressed by his knowledge of the animagus potion, so only after he'd soaked up every drop of attention from that did he segue into miscellaneous potions…

"Younger or older?"

Garreth halted his steady stream of words. "Come again?"

"You said age potions. Is that for becoming younger or older?"

"Both."

"Got it," she transcribed the information onto the last remaining sliver of parchment before duplicating the notes and handing him a copy. "That should be enough for now."

"What would be your preference?" Garreth asked as he scanned her hasty summary. “If you had an ageing potion, would you go older or younger?"

"Younger." Her reply was instantaneous. "I'd sign up for first-year classes. Did you hear they get a class trip into Black Lake now that Nerida Roberts has made peace with the mermaids?"

"I heard the rumours, not the confirmation that they're true."

"Well, Mr. Moon has been preparing the boats for their afternoon class, so it's likely."

"Criminal. Why do the ankle-biters get to go?"

"The younger the human, the less likely they are to get eaten." She looked crestfallen at having involuntarily aged into mermaid fodder. "I'd do anything to see one in the flesh."

Anything?

Garreth tucked that juicy little nugget of information into the corner of his brain for future reference.

As he began to tidy up their tools, he hesitated as he reached for the mandrake. Since their last class, it had flourished quite spectacularly. Ripe leaves were unfurling, and fresh sprouts were vying for their place in the renewed soil.

The potions that could be concocted with all this deliciousness.

It made Garreth's thumbs itch.

He leaned on his forearms, knocking an elbow against his partner in herbology/crime. "Might I trouble you for a favour?"

"Another heist?"

"You know how it is."

"You still owe me for the last one."

 "What's your price, sunshine?"

After a moment of consideration, she swiped her quill's bristles against his jaw and told him: "Surprise me."

Garreth's heart skipped a beat, then kicked up again at an alarming rate.

Fucking titillating.

"I'll wrangle you a mermaid," he stated succinctly, embodying the charismatic gentleman he was known to be. His words absolutely did not stumble out in a jumbled lump.

"Ambitious."

"And, on second thought, kind of inconvenient," he added, mulling over the logistical implications of housing a mermaid. "Fine, I'll wrangle you a glimpse of a mermaid."

"Still ambitious; how do you plan to pull that off?"

"I have my ways," he said, tapping his nose. "Meet me in the boathouse after lunch?"

She narrowed her eyes, scouring his features for any trace of dubious intentions. The boathouse was a notorious hook-up spot and had been the subject of a few too many jokes (that perhaps weren't entirely jokes) suggesting they relocate their study sessions there.

He kept quiet and tried to look like he wasn't harbouring several ulterior motives. Her curiosity evidently outweighed her better judgment, because she agreed.

With their tasks completed, the distraction sprang over to Garlick, loudly inquiring about the "breathtaking" new assortment of plant life on the opposite side of the greenhouse.

Garreth carried their mandrake over to the shelves.

In a moment of clumsy misfortune, he fumbled with the pot, inadvertently grabbing the plant by its sprouts and plucking off several leaves in the process.

In sheer happenstance, these fallen leaves found their way into his cloak pocket.

Completely unaware of the faux pas, Garreth quickly skedaddled out of the classroom.

The potion prodigy dropped a pilfered leaf into a steaming cauldron. It belched up a scalding mist of fuchsia fog, and Garreth ducked to avoid it with a triumphant grin. As the potion simmered, he envisioned what tantalising rewards awaited him for bringing her dreams to fruition.

It was an odd sensation—having impure thoughts whilst mashing troll bogeys into a fine paste.

Their fictitious romp was cut short once more, this time by the intrusion of an abnormally long nose topped with impeccable hair.

"Hello, Prewett."

Leander sidled up to the desk, two ice-cold butterbeers floating behind him. "Have you been here all morning? I thought you were joining us in Hogsmeade."

"An opportunity arose."

Leander looked a combination of curious and suspicious as he surveyed the array of grimy receptacles. He kept himself and his hair at a safe distance. "What's going on?"

"Just brewing a gift for someone."

"Who?"

"Someone."

Leander didn't waste time guessing; he jumped straight to the correct conclusion and informed Garreth that he was a soppy bastard. Garreth didn’t dispute it; she occupied his mind far more than any previous passing fancies.

Turning the notebook around, Leander scanned the nearly indecipherable process for age potions. "How far back does she want to turn the clock?"

"Seven years, give or take," Garreth replied, watching his friend sniff a jug of a failed experiment. “I overshot it with that batch. Best not ingest it; you might turn into a sperm."

Leander tossed the potion back onto the table and scrubbed his unsullied hands on his robes. "Are you sure about this? Sallow will have your head if you turn the heroine of Hogwarts into seminal fluid. Then Gaunt will harvest your functional eyes."

Garreth waved those minor concerns away, his focus honing in on the most critical point. "Don't call her that; she hates it."

"She'd also hate being jizz."

"Trust me, it's going to be a wild success. I have a secret ingredient," Garreth declared, jabbing a bogey-stained thumb to his chest.

"Heart?" Leander asked with a stifled sound of disgust.

"No, me. Garreth Weasley. Most of what I do results in the desired outcome, one way or another."

"Just with several explosions along the way."

"It's called pizazz, Prewett.”

"Well, I can't say I didn't try. I'm leaving before I'm implicated." Leander plucked one of the butterbeers out of the air and slid it across the table. "Best of luck, Weasel."

"Cheers, buddy. For the beverage and soon-to-be-forgotten advice," Garreth raised the drink to his lips and chugged half. Appeasing ladies was thirsty work, and he had begun to resemble one of the sweaty puddles forming on the counter.

He lowered the cup and was met with Leander's horrified visage.

"What…" Garreth's lips curled in disgust; he smacked them together in response to the cataclysmically putrid aftertaste. Had Leander fermented the beer in his arsehole? Bloody hell, it was foul. He opened his mouth to demand answers, but it remained agape as the tabletop began to rise.

Garreth watched in dubious disbelief as his full and frothy butterbeer, alongside a half-empty beaker of defective potion, ascended past him.

Oh shit...

No matter how much Garreth thrashed, pushed, and grabbed at the thick blankets swaddling him, he seemed to be making no progress towards freedom.

A refreshing gust of fresh air greeted his face as someone whisked the material away from it, and his vision adjusted to the gangly thing staring down at him. Bony hands were clamped over its mouth, muffling its irritating bleating, save for one vaguely familiar sound that slipped through the cracks.

"Weasley?"

Garreth had no clue what it meant, nor was he really listening.

His attention had been lured upwards to something familiar and profoundly comforting. It called to mind dreamy memories of tight cuddles and the aroma of freshly baked cookies. With his chubby arms eagerly extended, Garreth reached towards the glossy mass of ginger hair.

"Mama."

Mum's immediate response was a stiff: "No."

She lifted Garreth's arm and began probing the joints while letting out a string of confounded noises: "Well, at least you're not a sperm. How old are you?"

Ah, Garreth knew this trick well. He withdrew his fingers from his dribbling mouth and proudly brandished the moist digits—quantity unknown.

"No, you look younger than four…"

Garreth was actually trying to display eighteen, but that was by the by, as his stomach interrupted the goings-on with a grumble of protest.

Some absolute cretin had failed to provide him with sustenance.

"Don't you dare…," said mum.

Garreth sucked in a deep lungful of air, mustering every wisp of it to articulate his plea: "Mother, please. I'm famished." Except it took the form of a skull-splitting scream.

He cracked open an eye in hopeful anticipation of a succulent meal being bequeathed to him to find a stick hovering an inch from his face.

It looked delectable—a gourmet feast of the highest quality.

He took a hearty bite but was promptly shoved away by Mum. She wiped the resultant drool off on Garreth's hair, which felt uncalled for, before making a noise that shrunk his blanket into clothes befitting his podgy form. He was then scooped up haphazardly, his body contorting at a crooked angle as Mum's lanky fingers awkwardly gripped his limbs.

Her attempts to keep him upright were clumsy and uncoordinated as if she'd never held a child before. Something seemed fishy, but before he could assign any brainpower to the feeling, they were transported through a doorway and absorbed into a bustling crowd.

What were all these people doing in Garreth's house?

He caught snippets of his name, each time prefaced by words beyond his current comprehension like: "Is that..." and "What the fuck have you done..."

A few intruders waved, and Garreth returned the gesture despite Mum's increasingly laborious efforts to prevent him from tumbling to the ground.

Garreth realised it had been some time since he travelled by way of arms, and decided then that he must get back into it.

And so, after that fine voyage (during which he only vomited twice), they landed in a lush field. Overhead, people dressed in vivid green costumes whizzed around on brooms, overseen by a man to whom Garreth was unceremoniously presented.

The man's piercing eyes roved over Garreth's fiery red hair, then lifted to Mum's.

"Prewett, is this your foetus?"

Mum looked freshly displeased and dumped Garreth into the man's much sturdier arms.

A dark line was carved across his eye; it piqued Garreth's innocent curiosity. He reached out to touch it gently, but his new-fangled toddler strength drove his tiny fist to inadvertently deliver a solid punch to the man's nose. Garreth instinctively grasped out as he teetered on the recoil, knotting his hands in the man's thick brown hair.

It looked delectable—a gourmet feast of the highest quality.

Garreth tried to indulge in a munch, but his efforts were met with resistance as his fingers and mouth were gradually, and by all accounts, painfully, pried away from the tangled strands.

This scene unfolded as the man flagged down his airborne squadron. Many pointed gestures were exchanged among the teams' objections before they dispersed towards Garreth's house—except for one dark-haired girl, who stood on the brink of delivering the man's second solid punch of the day for reasons unknown.

Her shrill cries of "You can't cancel our Quidditch practice because of a baby; we're only three days away from a match!" did nothing to alleviate Garreth's confusion.

As they deliberated, he was placed onto the ground, where a grassy banquet awaited him. A fitting compensation for his ordeal in the hair.

In a fit of anger, the girl hurled her broom to the floor, which was promptly confiscated from Garreth’s reach. In the interim, he had chewed a dandelion into a pulp and was now squeezing it until the juices mushed out from his tightened fist. With pride, he handed it to the man for inspection.

Rudely, his attention was elsewhere.

"Up," Garreth called, his stout arms extended as he slapped his soggy green fingers against his palms.

He wasn't spared a glance.

"Up!" he insisted, baffled when his efforts to raise himself three centimetres didn't result in being catapulted straight into awaiting arms. With a disappointed whine, he stretched his limbs higher.

"Quiet, Weasley."

Not one to shut up on command, Garreth rose to his unsteady feet and supported himself on the broom the man held loosely in his hand.

"UP," he commanded.

Up he went.

Draped over the broomstick like a towel hung out to dry, Garreth levitated until he reached a midpoint of the multicoloured spires surrounding the field. The broom purred between his fingers as he hooked an ankle over, the trembling coursing up his arms and animating his fleshy cheeks with a lively jiggle.

A sharp scream rang around the meadow from somewhere far below him.

Mama?

Garreth glanced down. It wasn’t mum—it was the man. His arms outstretched and calling his name. Alas, Garreth's interest in uppies had withered away, for an instinct was awakening. He was somehow aware that if he adjusted his posture...

His cheeks, bereft of their former jiggle, now thrashed against the back of his head as he shot off at breakneck speed.

With a twitch of his finger, he manoeuvred the broom to narrowly avoid smashing into a row of seats—it was a reflex, a memory ingrained deep in his muscles.

He streaked over the team in green, their yelling and leaps onto their brooms signalling their intent to challenge him in a race.

Oh, what delightful fun.

The wind carried away Garreth's gleeful shrieks as he weaved through a narrow waterway flanked by the castle walls. The roar of his peers from walkways spanning the passage propelled him onward. He was a creature of speed—a blur of motion—and, as always, thriving in the presence of an audience.

He ducked beneath a stone bridge and burst across open waters, escorted by a pair of majestic snowy owls gliding alongside him. The birds dropped to the surface of the lake, skimming their wings against the mirrored reflection of the sky before soaring up into the billowing clouds.

Oddly, their shadowy doppelgängers remained by Garreth’s side. His toes grazed the waves as he strained to catch a glimpse of his companions beneath the waterline when a sleek fin sliced through the water, while something breached entirely on the other side of him. Their playful dives splashed icy water across his face before they vanished into the depths. Garreth laughed as he extended his hand and squealed at them to come back.

Glancing up, he realised that his beckoning had summoned a building instead, and it was hurtling toward him at a frightfully rapid pace.

A fish erupted from the crest of a wave, snatching him off the broom seconds before it splintered into a million pieces against the bricks.

Garreth plunged into the water, ensnared in slippery arms.

The biting chill was only a passing thing as the fish breached the surface, clutching Garreth by a pudgy leg and hoisting him above the waterline. It rotated him this way and that, inspecting him with hungry eyes.

Garreth could relate; dandelions had been a sub-standard excuse for nourishment—he much preferred fish.

He grasped what he initially mistook for a writhing mass of serpents, only to discover it was sinewy strands of fish hair. Undiscouraged, he sank his tiny teeth into the gleaming scales. He was torn away, the fish's reprimand manifesting as a bone-shattering wail that shook Garreth to his tiny core.

Upset, tired, and starving, Garreth attempted to deliver a solid punch to the fish's face, but his new-fangled toddler exhaustion hindered his little fist, and he petted the slimy creature instead. On the verge of an imminent nap, Garreth curled into a ball and utilised ropey grey fish hair as a pillow.

He was vaguely aware of some heated commotion around him; at one point, a hungry fish snapped its teeth in his direction while another held him at arm's length. He dismissed this as irrelevant to his situation, providing the offending party with a slap before settling back into his nap with a grumble of irritation.

His consciousness ebbed and flowed with the undulation of the water. A serene fish guided him towards the building he had narrowly avoided colliding with. The lake rippled around them, while boats knocked against each other as they bobbed in the surf.

A delighted gasp stirred him as a figure waded up to her knees to reclaim him from the fish.

This new resting place was the essence of luxury—her familiar, soothing voice a balm to his weary senses. This divine ray of sunshine shrugged a blanket off her shoulders and wrapped Garreth in its warmth, granting him the comfort he needed to indulge in the finest siesta.

He awoke to the jarring sensation of a turbulent ride, his eyes rolling in their sockets as he wobbled around on a skeletal hip.

Merlin, Sharp's built like a sack of razor blades, Garreth grumbled inwardly.

Wait...

His body expanded moments after his mental faculties did.

The flickering flames beneath the cauldrons danced in and out of focus as his vision swayed. Finally it settled on the scene: his body sprawled across Sharp’s lap, both on the floor, scraps of a size 18-24 month Hogwarts uniform strewn across them like confetti.

"Hello, Professor.”

Sharp shoved him off and flung an abandoned cloak in his direction. "Put some clothes on, Weasley."

Garreth felt as though someone had scooped out his brain, used it in lieu of a bludger, and then poured the battered remnants back into his skull.

The soft twinkles of floating candles were like fireworks to his bloodshot eyes, magnifying the relentless throbbing behind them. Everywhere he looked, countless pairs of eyes stared back at him, accented by whispers interwoven with giggles.

An audience during dinner was an unnerving affair he wasn't accustomed to.

He turned a deaf ear to the hearsay that he'd smashed up Imelda's Nimbus. He had enough to bury deep down without living in perpetual fear of a hex taking him from behind. He employed his Gryffindor bravery to bolster his confidence and strode through the great hall his with chin up. If nothing else, it was a great story, albeit a slightly mortifying one.

He caught sight of Leander perched on a high horse. No doubt poised to unleash a storm of I told you so's and serves you right for the bald thing. Before Garreth could muster his wits and rustle up a selection of witty retorts, he was knocked sideways in a flying embrace.

"You're you again!"

He glanced down at the figure clinging to him and Merlin, the smile.

"I was always me, sunshine."

"I can't believe what you did. You brought mermaids into the boathouse, real ones!" Her tender hug was replaced by a firm grip on his tie and a pointed finger jabbing against his chest as she scolded him. "Don't you dare pull a stunt like that again. The whole school thought you'd drowned, but, gosh, it was incredible…"

Garreth's mind spun as her voice gained momentum with each euphoric word until everything froze, and she was touching his cheek—a fleeting, electrifying brush of her lips against his skin before they were torn apart by Poppy and her rapid gunfire of mermaid-themed questions.

His knees turned to mush under the weight of endorphins drowning his system. He slumped onto the bench opposite Leander, who had undergone a mood shift and now radiated a deliciously palpable rage.

Garreth smirked at him.

"Desired outcome achiev—"

"Shut the fuck up, Weasley."

#garreth weasley #weasley wednesday #garreth weasley fanfiction #garreth weasley fluff #garreth weasley x reader #garreth weasley fanart #garreth weasley x you #garreth weasley x mc #leander prewett #leander prewett fanart #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #poppy sweeting #hogwarts oc #hogwarts houses #weasley

[sparklingchim]

long way home 25 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 1.7k

genre: dilf!jungkook, friends to lovers, angst

rating: pg

warnings: birth place of baby jaykay's insecurities <3

summary: the one where jungkook isn't enough for you.

a/n: hi hi <3 m so incredibly sorry for the long wait but life has been hectic & stressful :') here's a new chappie tho !! the last flashback of the series 🫂

chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 |

masterlist | long way home masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

8 years ago

Jungkook is nervous. He has been thinking about this moment for a while, and although he has prepared himself for it, he can't quite hinder his heart from skipping a beat every time he thinks about it.

It’s a foolish fear – he knows it. But the giddy feeling won’t leave his system as he walks down the street to your home.

Jungkook goes over the line he has prepared. It’s a simple question, there isn’t a lot to mess up, but Jungkook doesn’t want anything to go wrong. He wanted it perfect because it was you.

It is a week before the Winter Ball and Jungkook wants to ask you out. He knows it's just a silly dance in school, nothing too fancy but still, he has wanted to ask you out for quite some time now, and today he finally had the guts to do it. He meant to ask you in school today, but he didn’t find the right moment. Between having to get rid of an annoying Namjoon with too many school related questions about classes, exams and tests, and your random ramblings while Seulgi grinned teasingly at him because she knows Jungkook’s intention, he never stood a chance.

He had considered asking over the phone, but Jungkook immediately dismissed the idea, because this way he has an excuse to see you.

Jungkook rings the doorbell.

Your mother opens the door. A smile spreads across her face as she recognises Jungkook in front of her. Jungkook bows, a polite greeting follows from his lips.

“Oh! It’s nice seeing you here, Jungkookie. Come in,” she says, a warm hand on his shoulder to welcome him inside.

Jungkook exchanges his shoes for a pair of slippers. “Y/n is in her room. Have you eaten yet? I can heat something up for you,” your mother offers but Jungkook declines with a shake of his head.

“No, thank you. I had dinner at home.”

She smiles at him. “Next time eat a spoon or two more for me, yeah? You should eat well.” Your mother pinches his cheek playfully.

Jungkook laughs. “I will.’’

“Jungkookie, I didn’t know you were coming today.” Your dad emerges from the kitchen and Jungkook turns to the voice. He bows to your dad and greets him as well.

“It was a bit spontaneous,” Jungkook answers with a hesitant smile.

Your father steps closer to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. “How are things at school? Are you doing well?”

Jungkook goes blank for a second. He thinks about the grade he got in the last English exam. And the memory of the fight he had with a boy two weeks ago is still fresh in his mind. Jungkook swallows. “Yeah, I’m - I’m doing fine.”

Your father nods approvingly. “That’s good to hear.”

Jungkook could fix that. Well, not the dude’s face he fought with, that could do the hospital, but he could fix his English grade. Sort of.

“We’re in the living room if you two need us,” your mother declares.

Jungkook makes his way to your room, but he turns around again. “Actually, I have a question.”

Your parents look at Jungkook curiously.

Uneasily, Jungkook scratches the back of his head. “Is y/n allowed to go the winter ball next week?” After a second of silence passes, Jungkook adds with a pounding heart, “I would like to go with her.”

Your mother is the first to speak. “Y/n will go. We’re going shopping for a dress tomorrow.” A fond smile curls her lips. “I think y/n would be extremely happy if you asked her.” Her grin reaches her eyes and Jungkook has to fight against a timid smile forming on his mouth. That was nice to hear.

“As friends, right?” Your father suddenly calls out.

Jungkook’s eyes flicker to him. Under your father’s gaze, he feels called out and the confidence that was coursing through him a second ago has completely vanished.

“Yes,” Jungkook utters with a little too much enthusiasm. He clears his throat. “As friends.” A stab goes right through his heart as the words passes his lips. It feels strange.

Your dad gives him a curt nod.

With uncertain steps he leaves to get to your room. When Jungkook is around the corner, he hears your mother speak up.

“You shouldn’t have said that,” she chides. “You made his precious smile drop from his face the moment you said it.”

A sudden surge of warmth dispels the unease in Jungkook at the sight of your mother’s protectiveness. Jungkook hides behind the corner. He wants to hear where the conversation will lead.

“He has to know which boundaries he can’t cross,” your father replies.

“Jungkook has a pure soul. He is a good friend for y/n.”

‘’Yeobo, I know he's a good friend to y/n, but I can't let him get the idea that he could be our girl's boyfriend.

Having one of his greatest fears confirmed by your father is the strangest feeling of all. His words send a cold shiver down his spine. It's not like Jungkook had high hopes of a chance with you, but now even the smallest spark has vanished into thin air in a second.

‘’There are just kids. They’re not thinking that far yet.’’

Jungkook hears your dad scoff at your mother’s statement.

‘’They are teenagers,” he stresses. “We should make it clear that he doesn’t have the qualities to be more than a friend to our daughter. Jungkook is not good enough for her.”

Jungkook’s throat tightens.

“I don’t think a boy raised by his aunt is good enough for our y/n.”

Jungkook can feel the punch strike his face as he perceives your father’s words.

Your mother sighs deeply. "We can't blame him for his parents abandoning him," she says disapprovingly. "Jungkook is an innocent boy and a loyal friend. Don't interfere with their friendship."

While Jungkook appreciates your mother defending him, he can't blame your father for thinking that way. He wants the best for you and so does Jungkook, so his wishful thinking and what if assumptions about you should end from now on.

When Jungkook realises what he is doing, he saunters into your room. He shouldn't spy on your parents. They are right in what they say anyway - Jungkook is not enough for you. You deserve more, something better.

Jungkook knocks at your door. When your soft voice invites him in, he finds you sitting at your desk with your school book open in front of you.

Your eyes widen at the sight of Jungkook. “Jungkook?” The light sparkles in your eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Just...” Jungkook trails off, leaning against your desk. “Thought I could stop by for a little?”

“Sure,” you smile. “You’re always welcome here.”

Jungkook is aware that it shouldn’t, but his heart warms at that.

You rummage in a folder. “Here,” you say, handing him a few sheets of paper. “We got these in English today. I took some for you.”

“Thanks.” He puts the sheets of paper next to him.

“Why weren’t you in class?” You level him with curious eyes from below.

Jungkook breaks eye contact for a brief moment. “Wasn’t feeling well.”

In reality he was hiding in the girl’s restroom, making out with a girl from Biology, but Jungkook thinks that you’re both better off if he doesn’t tell you.

You stare at him with the same expression on your face and Jungkook worries you’ll ask more questions, but then you turn your attention back to the books in front of you. “Wanna do English homework with me?”

Jungkook winces. “Why would you even ask.”

You giggle. “You can’t pretend English class doesn't exist forever, Koo."

“Yeah, I can,” Jungkook says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You roll your eyes at him.

Jungkook taps his fingers against the desk. “So...”

You look up at him expectantly.

“You’re going to the ball next week?”

You nod with way too much excitement for a silly school ball, but Jungkook adores it.

“I’m going shopping with my mum to look for a dress tomorrow,” you reply. You’re buzzing with anticipation.

“So like, would you...” Jungkook pauses. He doesn’t know why he finds it so hard to just ask the question. You look so pretty as you’re looking up at him, the way you bite down on your lip with interest. “Would you like to go to the ball with me?”

You grow shy under Jungkook's gaze. A tentative smile unfurls on your face.

Jungkook’s heart drops at the beautiful sight in front of him.

“Sure. I’d like to go with you, yeah.”

But then your father’s words loom in Jungkook’s mind and his stomach plummets.

He swallows the lump in his throat before he speaks, “But just as friends. We’ll go there as friends.”

Your smile falters the tiniest bit. “Yes, I – I know. I didn’t assume -” You laugh nervously. “I know that we’re just friends, Koo.”

Jungkook nods. How can it be that his heart feels lighter and heavier at the same time? He thought he would feel more relieved after asking you – and he did, but the reassurance didn’t last long.

While you continue to do your homework, Jungkook gets lost in his thoughts.

He shouldn’t dwell on all the crushing emotions that make him clench his jaw in disappointment. Jungkook is angry at himself for ever being foolish enough to develop feelings for you. Your dad was right in everything he said.

Jungkook emits a little sigh that has you looking up from your paper for a second. He shouldn’t feel this way. He should just be happy to have you as a friend. That’s enough for him. Jungkook is happy enough to have you in his life. He shouldn’t want more than that.

And so he grabs the pen you are writing with and holds it above his head.

“Yah!” you shout in annoyance, trying to reach the pen.

Jungkook giggles and you easily fall into silly banter, because that’s what you both do best – just being friends.

#jungkook #dilf jungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fanfic #bts #jeon jungkook

[withacapitalp]

How to Rehabilitate a Jock Part 8

Part 1 Part Seven Part Nine Link to Ao3

Step 8: Let Him Fail

Babydoll. 

Babydoll?!

What. Was. THAT??? 

Eddie Munson had always been a flirt. A shameless, hopeless, flirt. All of his friends knew it, and they all accepted it with a modicum of grace. They were used to Eddie spontaneously proposing marriage, or declaring to duel for someone’s honor. 

It was one of his self defense mechanisms, a way to hide in plain sight. No one knew when he was actually getting crushes on people- Well no one but Gareth-  because if you flirt with everyone, then no one suspects you’re actually serious when it’s them. 

But this was the first time someone had ever flirted back. 

Eddie now finally understood why Jeff still turned into a blubbering mess anytime Eddie whipped out a shitty little ring he had made out of a wrapper from a stick of gum. He was pretty sure his brain was never going to come back down to Earth now that Steve Harrington sent it to the heavens with three stupid fucking syllables. 

BA-BY-DOLL

It wasn’t even- it had no- it didn’t even make sense! 

No one used the term babydoll except for middle schoolers who were on their first date and eighty year old men talking about their wives. Eddie should be cackling right now, laughing about how utterly ridiculous that little pet name was. It should be silly. It shouldn’t mean a damn thing. 

So why was it working for him?

Why did Eddie want to push Steve up against a wall right now and kiss him silly?! 

Why was his mind letting itself hope that maybe Steve…was being serious too? 

No. Eddie needed to get himself together. That was not happening. That should not be happening. That literally could never happen, and the sooner he accepted that reality, the better.  

This…this whatever this was, was nothing more than Steve teasing Eddie the way Eddie always teased Steve. That was all there was to it. The flirty freak was finally getting a taste of his own medicine from the teenage heartthrob of Hawkins High. 

Nothing more. Never. 

There would be no serenade from the balcony, no racing heart, no chorus of angelic voices harmonizing as Steve cupped his cheek and pulled him in for a kiss. And, most importantly, Eddie was absolutely, definitely, without a doubt, not about to have his crush on Steve Harrington come back in full force. 

Oh, who was he kidding? 

Eddie was pretty sure he had never been more screwed. 

Eddie was so preoccupied with trying to wrap his mind around what the fuck had just happened that he completely missed the small child sitting in his throne, and sat down right on top of the kid. 

“Ouch!”  

The tiny cry from beneath him jogged Eddie out of his fog, and the entire room began to try and hold back chuckles as he looked around confused until his eyes spotted Mike glaring up at him. 

“Steven? Why is one of your children sitting on my throne?” Eddie wondered aloud, asking a question that was far easier to answer than the rest that were currently taking up all the space in his brain. 

“Mike,” Steve sighed from his place in the doorway, hands automatically falling on his hips as he shook his head, “Move. Now.” 

“I like this seat,” Mike said with a bratty little smirk towards his babysitter. Steve rolled his eyes in an extremely theatrical fashion, tipping his head back and exposing the long pale column of his neck. 

Oh, it would be so easy to kiss right on his pulse point, wouldn't it? Steve would probably love that. He seemed like the type to be hyper sensitive, and he would make the most sinfully delicious noises as Eddie’s teeth scraped against-

Nooooooooooo. No no no no no. 

Eddie. Get your shit together. Now. 

“Jackass, you’re gonna get us kicked out,” Dustin said as Eddie mentally began to stab himself in the head. Mike replied by sticking out his tongue, and Dustin’s face screwed up into a kind of adorable scowl. 

“Mike, come sit with me,” Will offered. Mike grumbled, but immediately got up, scurrying over to Will’s side and sharing the chair he had dragged in between Kaiden and Gareth. This was the second time Eddie had seen Will act as the mediator for their little group, and Eddie had a feeling that it was a pretty regular thing. 

Now that his throne was once more vacant, Eddie sat down heavily, blowing all of the air out of his lungs in one big gust. He looked around the table, observing the changes that had been made to the layout. 

Eddie had expected the kids to find a corner to sit in, but instead they had taken the liberty to bring over chairs or scoot in with Hellfire members and start talking with them. It was shocking to see a group of preteens have no hesitation about throwing themselves in with, but Eddie had to hand it to them. It was damn brave.  

The thing that was more surprising was how happy the rest of the club seemed to be with this latest shift. For a group of people who had fought him tooth and nail on allowing Steve into the club, they seemed all too happy to accept the kids. 

Janet was sharing her seat with Max, their heads close together as they snickered about something that was definitely going to be exceptionally devilish. Eddie didn’t know much about Max, but he had a feeling that those two would be a match made in hell. 

Given the look Steve was giving them, Eddie had a feeling he would agree

Dustin had plopped a chair right in between where Frank and Steve were supposed to be sitting. He and Frank were loudly discussing the pros and cons of different character classes, both of them swinging their arms around to and fro with wild facial expressions. Jeff and Lucas were on the other side of the table, talking much more quietly and looking at something on his character sheet. 

Even Gareth seemed like he was into it! The second Mike sat down next to Will, Gareth coaxed him into a conversation about the campaign. They were both looking down at the table, an easy smile on his best friend’s face as Mike’s eyes sparkled with glee. Kaiden and Will were watching the two with soft little smirks, sharing amused eye rolls and gentle exasperated head shakes. 

Eddie’s heart ached ever so slightly as he watched Gareth patiently explain something to Mike, pointing to the map on the table as he spoke. Mike replied with enthusiasm, and Gareth threw his head back, laughing. 

That was the Gareth Eddie loved. 

Some of the tension in his shoulders fell away watching his best friend be the person Eddie knew he was. Gareth had somehow become a stranger almost overnight in so many ways, his vitriol against Steve poisoning his relationships with all of them. It was hard to be around him when he was like that, and an uncomfortable strain had come up between the whole club. 

The strain was gone right now, and Eddie was absolutely elated. 

“Sorry about the kids,” Steve said with an embarrassed smile, “They have no concept of boundaries,” 

“No, this is awesome,” Eddie replied immediately, “You should’ve told them weeks ago,” 

“Dunno why I made it such a big deal,” Steve murmured, his cheeks dusted with a soft rouge. 

“Can we get back to playing now?” Rocky asked impatiently, drumming his fingers on the table in front of him. 

The entire room turned their eyes towards Eddie and he made a show of stretching, settling himself back into his role. His audience had just doubled, but that only made him more eager to get started. Besides he had a feeling Steve’s kids would be expecting quite the show, and Eddie wasn’t about to disappoint. 

“You all tremble in fear as Kris Kringle decides your fates,” Eddie begins in a growling whisper, slowly raising his voice to a loud shriek, “Naughty…..Naughty….Naughty, Naughty, Naughty!” 

The kids began to quietly giggle, and an eager joyful energy swept through the room. Eddie cracked a devious little grin.

“There’s no hope for you now!” Eddie boomed in an over the top accent, “The only way off my list is DEATH! Give in and I will make it quick and, somewhat, painless.” 

The club shared a look. 

“Never!” Hellfire declared as one, and the game was on. 

Having the kids with them only added to the experience. Now that they had an audience, the club members were really getting into their characters. Even Steve was starting to open up more. 

The kids had been sworn to silence, not allowed to make suggestions or tell their respective Hellfire members what they could do, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t react. So react they did, shouting in anger when the party stumbled, giving victorious high fives when they dealt a blow to their holiday themed foe. 

But Eddie was crafty. Anytime Hellfire took a step forward, he would push them back two more, determined to give them an epic fight. 

Maybe a little too epic. There was still one whole final battle to get through according to Eddie’s notes, and it was nearly 7:00. Almost all of the party had escaped the toy factory, but Ex-Prince Stefan was still running around being chased by evil Santa. The ones outside were being swarmed by living snowmen controlled by Kris Kringle. They were throwing snowballs filled with razor blades at them, and the group’s luck was starting to dwindle.  

“We’re getting nowhere,” Janet groaned as Steve rolled a three, once again missing his chance to get out, “Let’s go back in and help him there instead. The snowmen will melt when Kris is dead.” 

“If any of us try to go back in, then Kringle’s lazer beam of pain will vaporize us instantly. You can only get out, not back in,” Kaiden glumly reminded her, looking down at the map where the six of them were surrounded on all sides by little paper snowmen dolls with tiny angry faces.

“If you all try running through at the same time one of you might survive,” Eddie snickered, tapping his chin in mock consideration and loving the glares being shot his way. 

The kids, who had all been starting to squirm around, groaned as a collective. Dustin reached down into his backpack, bringing out a notebook and beginning to furiously scribble something down. As the club continued to try and strategize, Dustin lobbed the paper ball over to Lucas, who caught it midair and studied what Dustin had written down. 

Eddie hummed to himself, watching the kids and wondering what exactly they were planning. 

“Steve- oh sorry- Stefan you just have to try again to get out again,” Jeff decided with a sigh, so preoccupied with their predicament he missed Lucas slipping out of the chair next to him and sneaking over to Will and Mike to show them the paper, “When we’re all out, we can attempt to run,”

“Run?” Steve repeated incredulously, as if the thought of running was simply incomprehensible, “Why?”

“There’s no way we’re getting out of this alive, newbie. Better to live and try again another day” Frank replied, patting Steve’s back and giving Eddie an annoyed look. Eddie shrugged, watching as all four boys ran over to Max and dragged her into a corner of the room, all furiously debating.

“No shame in running,” Eddie offered, wondering how Steve would take it. He didn’t seem like the type to run, but he was also used to Steve surprising him. 

“Why are you all quitting?” Steve said with mild disgust, obviously disappointed by the party’s lack of fortitude, “I’ve been being chased around all alone for like five turns straight, and I still think we can win!”

“We’re quitting because we have nothing,” Gareth snapped back, pointing at the board. 

“Dungeon Master?” Mike said, interrupting the spat before it could become an actual fight. The group turned as a collective to stare at the kids, seeming to only realize now that they had been plotting in the background this whole time. 

“Steve’s Child Number Three?” Eddie responded, watching Mike’s face instantly sour.

“Three?” He shot back instantly, “You think I’m third out of four?”

“I’m organizing you by height, small fry. Except for you Little Red,” Eddie tacked on, adoring the completely cute smirk that fell onto Max’s face when he said it. 

“Could we potentially give Steve just one single suggestion?” Dustin asked before Mike could open his big fat mouth and ruin their opportunity, “Just one. Not even a suggestion, really! Just an… an observation,”

An observation. In any other situation, with any other person, it would be an automatic no, but Eddie was intrigued to see what might come of this unexpected turn of events. 

Still, appearances had to be maintained.

“I don’t know,” Eddie said, stretching out the last word as far as it would go, “I don’t remember Stefan’s character sheet including any ghosts of Christmas’ past, present, or future.” 

“Oh c’mon, Babydoll,” Steve said with a far too adorable pout. He made his eyes glisten ever so slightly, which was an entirely unfair move, propping his chin up on one fist and giving Eddie the most perfect sad puppy face he had ever seen, “You still owe me,” 

“Fuck you,” Eddie said immediately, trying to ignore the sharp sudden race of his heart and the way that even his ears were warm at this moment. He threw himself into the scolding mother goose role, knowing that if he stayed as Eddie Munson, he would not be able to resist kissing the tip of Steve’s nose.

“I am your Dungeon Master right now, Stefan, and you will treat me with the respect that comes along with that title,” Eddie said, wagging his finger at Steve and pretending like his hands weren’t shaking ever so slightly. 

Steve chuckled softly, dipping his head down towards his chest bringing just his eyes up and giving Eddie a bashful grin. 

“I’m so sorry,” Steve said, not sounding sorry in the slightest. He clasped his hands over his heart and began to plead. 

“Pleaseeeee, oh wise and smart Dungeon Master. Please let my brats give me just a single clue.”

The rest of Hellfire began to share glances, some hiding smiles behind their hands. The kids however had all seemed to focus on just a single word of Steve’s begging, and not the absolutely sinful sound of his voice. 

“Brats?!” Lucas scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “Never mind let him die by Evil Santa,” 

Eddie snorted, shaking his head. There was a heavenly glow in his chest, and the entire room felt like it was flooded with light. 

“Go ahead,” He sighed, nodding towards the kids. Steve beamed, practically skipping over as the kids reached up and yanked him down to their height so they could whisper in his ear. Eddie watched the sweet sight for a second before someone clearing their throat to his right caught his attention. 

The rest of the club was looking at him with raised brows. The glow disappeared, and the light vanished. He threw them a quick bird, hoping they would just fuck off. Janet shook her head subtly pointing towards the kids and Steve, her eyes wide. 

Oh. Not towards them. Towards the chalkboard that they were standing directly next to. 

Jesus F’in Christ. Eddie’s heart was running for a completely different reason.  

“Really?” Steve said out loud, straightening up and looking at the kids. The boys nodded together and Max shrugged. Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. 

“Okay,” Steve said in a dubious voice, coming back to the table and waiting until the kids were back in their appointed seats before turning to Eddie. Oh god. This was it. They had been caught. 

“Eddie- sorry Dungeon Master, is Frank’s telephone spell still active?”

“Bard Franklin Fitzman’s telepathic tune is available for 3 more turns.” Eddie corrected with a breath of relief. Steve hadn’t found out. Then his brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what the kids had told Steve. 

Why would they care about Frank’s spell? 

“Uh Stefan? That was to try and control the snowmen, and it didn’t work. Their intelligence is ‘too low to be manipulated’,” Frank explained, using air quotes around the last part saying what Eddie had told him word for word when he had tried to control the snowmen and failed. 

“Technically we’re creatures aren’t we? Use the telepathic bond on me,” Steve said, his tone naturally slipping into a leadership role. It wasn’t exactly a command, but it wasn’t quite a suggestion either. 

Eddie half expected Frank to bristle at that, but Frank just nodded along. 

“Am I allow- you know what? Yeah. I use the telepathic bond on Stefan,” Frank agreed, throwing up his hands.  

Well, did that count as progress? Maybe. Eddie doubted that he would have listened to Steve’s suggestion before today. But it might’ve just been because this was the kids’ plan, not Steve’s. 

“Roll a d8,” Eddie said, shrugging. This was unprecedented, completely off script, but interesting. Fine. They could do it, but it would take a lot, “You’ll need at least a 7 to make this work though, it’s a highly unusual way to use the spell,” 

Frank grabbed his die and rolled it across the table. 

Seven. 

Damn it.

“Unexpectedly, Stefan begins to hear a familiar voice in his head. He ducks under another red and white pillar just as Kringle’s sword hits the wood right where his head just was.” Eddie said, rubbing at his temple. He had no clue how being able to communicate telepathically was going to help in this situation, but sure. Whatever. 

“Stefan, I’ve connected our minds. You can speak to me, and I’ll relay whatever you want to say to the rest of the party. Kris Kringle won’t be able to hear it!” Frank declared.

“Perfect. The kids reminded me of something, and it gave me an idea. Oh I mean uhhhhhh the memory of my former subjects came to me and it inspired a plan of action,” Steve said, stumbling over his words as he tried to stay in character. 

“We’re your subjects?” Dustin fake whispered to Steve.

“I’m not good at the improv part of this,” Steve hissed, pushing his chair back and standing, “Team huddle where Eddie can’t hear?”

“It’s a Party Gathering, Steve,” Will called out from where he and Mike were sitting. 

“Fine. Party Gathering then,” Steve amended with a roll of his eyes, waving a hand and bringing the rest of Hellfire into the corner. 

They leaned down low together, arms around shoulders to hide their faces and muffle any words that might have come out louder than intended. Try as he might to eavesdrop, Eddie couldn’t make anything out. He turned a shrewd eye to Lucas, then Dustin but they both just shrugged and gave him shit-eating grins. Even Max seemed unbreakable, miming a zipper over her lips and locking them shut, throwing the fake key over her shoulder. 

This was not going to be good. 

Before Eddie could think too much more, Hellfire returned. Kaiden looked put out, Janet and Frank were contemplative, and Rocky was staring resolutely forward with determination. As usual Jeff was impossible to read, but it was Gareth that worried him the most. 

Gareth looked positively gleeful, which did not seem good given the current situation. 

“Why do you look…happy?” Eddie muttered, narrowing his eyes. 

“Stefan has had a brilliant plan. It had to come from the gods of old,” Gareth replied in his dwarf drawl, “A true hero move,” 

With that incredibly cryptic answer, Eddie finally turned his eyes to their newest party member. Steve was positively gleaming, a shine of victory making his eyes sparkle. 

“It’s my turn, right?” Steve asked, biting at his lip and doing absolutely nothing to hide how excited he was. Eddie cautiously nodded and Steve clapped his hands.

“Okay, I roll to lock myself and Santa in the factory with the magic padlock I found during the Eggnog Trials,” Steve stated. Mike and Will exchanged a high five, and Dustin happily smacked his hand against Steve’s arm. He waved the kid off, waiting expectantly for Eddie’s answer. 

“Use two d8. You’ll need at least a ten,” Eddie said, thinking on the fly. He could not come up with a single reason that Steve would want to stay stuck in the factory, but maybe it was something about sneaking through one of the broken windows or something. 

When Eddie saw the seven and six on the table, he took a deep breath, making a note in his book. The door was now locked, and the padlock was charmed to never be opened again once it was shut. Nothing would open those doors, not even a nat 20. 

“You manage to evade Kris’s grasp, gaining a minor lead in the chase. It’s just enough time to make it across the factory and slam the door shut, locking it tightly.” Eddie narrated, getting back into the swing of things, “Hohoho! All you’ve done is seal your own doom!” 

“Not exactly, Kris,” Steve, Stefan, shot back, looking like the cat that had caught the canary. 

“Jun Iper what’s your move?” Eddie said, turning to Kaiden. 

“I cast a defensive shield on me and Boz,” Kaiden promptly responded, already picking up his d20. He didn’t need a high number to succeed, Kaiden’s defensive magic was almost at maximum level, so despite only getting a nine, it was successful. 

“You both have a medium amount of extra protection. Boz?” 

“I hand Goren the Great my heavy armor,” Jeff replied, clapping Gareth on the shoulder. 

Gareth put the armor on, and that’s how the entire round went. One by one each of them cast defensive move after defensive move until it was Steve’s turn once more. With each move, Eddie’s worry only increased. 

“The rest of the party is as protected as possible for Sir Stefan’s next move. Kris is right on your heels, hungry for the flesh of those on his naughty list, starting with a certain exiled royal,” Eddie said, giving Steve a look. Steve innocently whistled, not keeping eye contact. 

Well. Two could play at this game. Time to raise the stakes a little. Eddie carefully moved his notes to the side before jumping up onto the table, startling only Steve and the kids. The rest were used to Eddie’s dramatics.

“Well well well. Looks like you’re serving yourself up as a present just for me,” Edddie said in a menacing voice, crouching down and getting in Steve’s space, “That’s nice, but not enough to save your life!” 

Steve kept eye contact, staring Eddie down. He still had that twinkle in his eye, and Eddie knew he was done before Steve even spoke.  

“I attempt to throw my dynamite candy canes into the generator and blow up the whole factory,” 

“What?” Eddie said, rearing back and nearly losing his balance. He wobbled at the edge of the table, his arms windmilling as he fell. But, just before the point of no return, a hand shot out, clasping tight around Eddie’s wrist and pulling him back upright. 

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, concern coloring his tone as he slowly let go of Eddie. 

“Fine,” Eddie replied breathlessly, hoping Steve just assumed it was from almost falling and not because Steve had touched him. He shook his head, climbing down off the table and sitting on his throne. 

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked, breaking character, “You’re the one saying you want to blow everything up. You’re going to die if you do that. You know that, right?” 

“Yeah, but the rest of the party should be safe, right? And Kris will die too, so the snowmen will be destroyed,” Steve said as if it was simple, laying it all out like it made sense. 

The worst part was, it did make sense. It was brilliant. Everyone else would be perfectly fine, losing one single party member was actually a great way to end a one shot, and they would have all of the loot because the stockings were fireproof. 

But Steve dying meant that he wasn’t going to cross that first barrier. He needed to live for this to count towards the JRP. It all clicked into place now. That was the reason Gareth was so willing to follow along with Steve’s plan. 

Damn them! Damn Steve for going for it! 

“There is zero chance of your survival. Are you sure you wish to proceed?” Eddie said, trying again to stress just how much Steve was going to die, “There is no avoiding being killed if you choose this,”

“Don’t worry,” Steve said, lowering his voice and ducking closer so only the two of them could hear, “I already forgave you for earlier,” 

Steve thought Eddie was worried about what he had said earlier. It was so sweet. It was so misguided. 

Eddie was so gone for this beautiful brave boy. 

“Roll the d20. You’ll need a 17 or higher for this batshit, absolutely insane, courageous as fuck move to succeed,” Eddie said, resigned to the inevitable, “As you hold up your red and white crooks of fury, Kringle’s face drops from glorious mayhem to complete terror. His sword clatters to the ground as he rushes towards you, trying to stop your frankly crazy plan from succeeding. The entire world seems to hold its breath as you toss the candy canes towards the main generator. They spin in the air. Will they land where you want? ”

And, sure enough, Steve managed to get an 18. It was the highest roll he had gotten the entire game. 

“Party wins,” Eddie managed to say before the room erupted into cheers. Everyone jumped to their feet, crashing into each other with heavy back slaps and high fives. The kids clustered around Steve, all exclaiming about how ‘cool’ and ‘badass’ he was, and Steve ruffled Dustin’s hair, turning back to give Eddie a brilliant look of joy. 

“Happy Christmas to all!” Rocky declared, throwing his character sheets in the air

“Except Stefan,” Janet pointed out, holding up her first and shaking her head, “Gone but never forgotten,”

“You know I’m right here, right?” Steve pointed out as he started to gather his things, looking at his watch, “Shit. Guys, get your stuff. We’re keeping someone waiting.”

The kids scrambled to get their things, packing up lightning fast, still happily babbling about the game. Steve threw one backpack strap over his shoulder, turning to Eddie and ducking his head. 

“Not too bad for my first time?” He asked, seeming suddenly shy. Eddie grinned, unable to stop himself

“Do you guys hear something?” Eddie teased, cupping his ear, “I think someone is reaching out to me from the great beyond,”

Jeff and Frank both cackled, and Steve rolled his eyes, shoving his shoulder into Eddie’s. A bloom of fire started from their point of contact, traveling all down his arm and into even the tips of his fingers. 

“You did great, Sweetheart,” Eddie said, trying to still sound joking, but knowing it came out far too genuine, “Never could have expected that,”

“Blame the kids. They’re the ones that told me that the party would still win even if one person died,” Steve replied with a shrug. The kids were clustered around the doorway, blocking the exit for the rest of Hellfire and shouting at Steve to hurry up. All of a sudden they were in a rush to get going. 

Steve waved, stepping back as if he was about to leave. Eddie gathered his wits and took the leap, remembering what Kaiden had told him before the meeting. 

“Hey,” Eddie called, grabbing both Steve’s attention and his wrist. He quickly let go when Steve stiffened up, putting space between them. He wasn’t sure if he had just moved too quickly, or if Stve didn’t want Eddie to touch him, but he still wanted to respect boundaries. 

“I still wanna make it up to you for before. Since I ended up having to kill your self-sacrificng ass, what if you came to my show on Tuesday?” Eddie asked, twirling a curl around his finger and chewing on the end. God, he was acting like a lovesick little kid. This was so pathetic. 

“Your show?” Steve asked with a quirk of his head. The kids, done with being ‘patient’, came over and began to tug on his hands, trying to push Steve out the door. 

“Guys, quit it,” Steve said sharply, turning his attention back to Eddie, “Is this a drama thing?” 

“Oh, um, no,” Eddie said, hating how much he loved that Steve remembered he was in the drama club, “It’s a show for our band? Corroded Coffin? We do metal covers and some originals and stuff at the Hideout,” 

There was a brief pause where Eddie’s entire life felt like it was ending. This was the stupidest thing he had ever thought of. Steve Harrington? Metal? The only way those two fit in a sentence together was if you put the words ‘doesn’t like’ in between them. 

There was no way Steve would want to come, and now Eddie was going to have to admit defeat on not just one, but two hurdles for this stupid experiment he had let the club start. 

“I’d love to,” Steve said in a rush, nearly stumbling as his brats continued to push him towards the door. “Guys. We will leave in a minute, Jesus. Should I meet you there?”

“Come to my trailer and you can drive with us! Tuesday at 8 don’t be late,” Eddie offered, mentally screaming at himself. Steve lived in Loch Nora, he probably didn’t even know where the trailer park was. 

But Steve was nodding along, like there wasn’t anything different about Eddie telling him to come to a trailer instead of an actual house. 

“I’ll look for the one that has your van in front of it,” Steve called over his shoulder, finally letting the kids tug him away,  “Can’t wait! Bye!” 

And then he was gone, leaving Eddie alone with his terrible treacherous heart. 

God. What was he doing? 

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#Steve joins hellfire au #Steve harrington #Eddie munson #steddie #steddie au #steddie ficlet #st #stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things au #post stancy breakup #post s2 #Steve and eddie #st au #stranger things 2 au #ptsd Steve harrington #Steve Harrington has ptsd #steve harrington #eddie munson #Steve and the party #max mayfield #babysitter Steve harrington #mom Steve harrington #Lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #Mike wheeler #will byers #Gareth stranger things #Jeff Stranger things #hellfire club

[akashababy]

Marvel characters react to their s/o kissing him but the running away

Peter Parker

❤️ Peter Parker might be caught off guard at first if his significant other kissed him unexpectedly and then ran away. He would probably experience a mixture of excitement, bewilderment, and curiosity about the reasons behind their escape and kiss. Peter might also wonder if he made a mistake or if the abrupt action had a deeper significance.

❤️ Peter, being the inquisitive and determined individual that he is, would undoubtedly make an effort to locate his significant other and engage in conversation regarding the recent events. In addition to expressing his own ideas and feelings, he would like to comprehend their reasons and emotions.

❤️ Peter could experience a range of feelings, such as joy that his partner kissed him, but he might also feel anxious or worried about the reason behind their need to flee. He would take the chance to speak honestly and candidly in order to strengthen their bond and make sure they were secure and at ease.

❤️ In general, Peter would probably approach the matter with a blend of empathy, curiosity, and a desire to work things out and come to an agreement with his partner.

Loki Laufeyson

💚 Loki's first reaction would probably be a mix of surprise, amusement, and curiosity if he witnessed his significant other kissing him and then running away. Loki might find the situation intriguing rather than confusing because of his reputation for mischievous behavior and unpredictable nature.

💚 Loki might be surprised by the unexpected kiss at first, but he would soon gather himself and laugh at the situation. The audacity and spontaneity of his partner's actions may appeal to his mischievous nature. He would probably view it as a lighthearted game or a challenge, and as he considers their plans, a smirk might show on his face.

💚 When Loki eventually catches up with his partner, he will maintain an air of casual confidence, not letting their actions affect him more than he lets on. He would tease them, asking questions like "What was that all about?" or "Are you trying to play hard to get?" Loki would enjoy keeping them on their toes, reveling in the power dynamics of their relationship.

💚 Upon eventually catching up with his partner, Loki would continue to project casual confidence, denying that their actions had a greater impact on him than he admits. "What was that all about?" and "Are you trying to play hard to get?" were some of the questions he would ask them as he teased them. Loki would relish the power dynamics between them and take pleasure in keeping them on their toes.

💚 Loki's response might change depending on how his partner explains things. If that kiss was intended as a brazen declaration of love, he might be genuinely happy and surprised. Maybe he would feel the same way back, but in his own cheeky way. But if the kiss was a practical joke or an attempt to gauge how he would react, Loki would respond in good fun, maybe with a clever trick of his own or an unexpected move.

💚 To sum up, Loki would be surprised, laughing, and curious when his significant other kissed him and ran off. He would be motivated by a desire to know their motivations and would regard it as a lighthearted game. Depending on how they explained it, Loki would either sincerely feel the same way or playfully engage in mind games and banter.

Tony Stark

♥️ Tony Stark's reaction would probably be a mixture of surprise, amusement, and intrigue if he found out that his significant other had kissed him and then fled. Tony would undoubtedly notice this unexpected action because of his charm, wit, and self-assured manner.

♥️ Tony usually reacts quickly to most situations, so he might be surprised at first by the sudden kiss. But after he gets over the initial shock, he starts to find humor. Instead of being confused, Tony would find the situation intriguing because he values spontaneity and likes to be kept on his toes.

♥️ Tony would set out to find his significant other and discover the reason behind their actions as his curiosity got the better of him. He would need to use both his resources and his keen intellect to find them. Tony might even use his technological skills to collect data or tease them in jest using different channels of communication.

♥️ Tony will continue to exude his signature charm and confidence when he eventually catches up with his partner. When he playfully confronts them, he may be grinning and asking, "What was that all about?" or "Are you trying to make a quick getaway?" Tony would quip back and forth with his significant other because he likes lighthearted banter.

♥️ Tony's response might change based on how his partner explains things. If the kiss was an act of true love, he could be pleasantly surprised and return the favor, maybe adding a little of his own special charm. Tony would probably respond playfully if the kiss had been a practical joke or an attempt to test his reaction, like planning a complicated practical joke or surprising them with a large gesture.

♥️ To sum up, Tony Stark would be surprised, amused, and intrigued if his significant other kissed him and fled. He would bounce back quickly and find the situation fascinating. Tony's charisma and curiosity would compel him to locate his mate and start joking around. Depending on how they explained it, he would either playfully respond with a clever retort or genuinely reciprocate their feelings.

Wanda Maximoff

🩷 Wanda Maximoff's reaction would probably be a mixture of bewilderment, curiosity, and a tinge of vulnerability if she witnessed her significant other kissing her and then running away. Wanda is a multifaceted, highly sensitive character who possesses telekinesis and reality-bending abilities.

🩷 Wanda might be surprised at first by the unexpected kiss and the retreat that followed. She may experience a wave of mixed feelings, from shock to doubt. Because of her empathy, Wanda would be sensitive to the feelings and intentions of her partner and curious to know why they act the way they do.

🩷 Wanda may feel a little exposed as she tries to make sense of what just happened. She would question whether the kiss was sincere and whether her. partner's abrupt exit indicated that they weren't sure how they felt or were just too overcome by them. Wanda may experience these feelings more intensely due to her empathy, which would increase her situational awareness.

🩷 Wanda would probably try to locate her partner and have a talk about what happened because she wants to be understood and connected. She might ask her friends, like Vision or Natasha Romanoff, for advice, or she might use her powers to find them. Wanda handles the situation with empathy and compassion, which shows that she cares about their emotional health.

🩷 Wanda would be honest and willing to talk when she and her partner eventually got together. She might ask them why they kissed her and then leave, expressing her confusion. As Wanda discusses her personal thoughts about the circumstances and expresses her need for clarification and understanding, her vulnerability may also be evident.

🩷 Wanda's response might change based on what her partner says. In the event that the kiss was a sincere show of love or affection, Wanda would probably feel relieved and embrace a closer bond. But if it was a playful move or an attempt to test her feelings, Wanda would respect their audacity but might also say that she needs more time to talk to them and understand them going forward.

🩷 In conclusion, Wanda Maximoff would exhibit bewilderment, curiosity, and a hint of vulnerability in response to her significant other kissing her and then scuttling off. She would try to have an honest discussion, trying to grasp their motivations and feelings. Based on their explanation, Wanda would respond with empathy, expressing her need for connection and clarity.

Natasha Romanoff

💜 Natasha Romanoff would first react with a mixture of surprise, caution, and a hint of curiosity if she found out that her significant other had kissed her and then fled. Natasha, a.k.a. Black Widow, is a very talented and astute person who is renowned for her people reading and tactical thinking.

💜 Considering her experience as a spy, Natasha would first evaluate the circumstances and attempt to decipher her partner's motivations. She may be wary because abrupt or unexpected behavior could set off her survival instincts. But Natasha would probably become curious because she's always looking to find out what's really going on and why people around her do the things they do.

💜 Even though Natasha might not go after her partner right away, she would undoubtedly want to find out what really transpired. She may employ her investigative abilities to obtain data and examine the matter from several perspectives, consulting her network of contacts as necessary.

💜 Natasha would approach her partner in a cool, collected manner after gathering sufficient information. She would ask them why they were running away and say how surprised she was by the unexpected kiss. Given her talent for reading people and her acute observational abilities, Natasha should be able to pick up on any underlying feelings or intentions, like fear, uncertainty, or even a lighthearted challenge.

💜 Throughout the conversation, Natasha would remain composed and pay close attention to her partner's explanation. Since trust is so important in any relationship, she would value openness and truthfulness. Natasha would value her partner's candor if they revealed the true feelings or intentions that led to the kiss, and she might feel the same way if she shared them.

💜 Natasha would, however, convey her need for boundaries and unambiguous communication if her partner revealed that the kiss was an impulsive or playful gesture. She would stress the value of mutual trust and understanding in their relationship, as well as the importance of respecting each other's feelings and consent.

💜 In conclusion, Natasha Romanoff would likely react with a mix of surprise, caution, and curiosity to her significant other kissing her and then scuttling off. She would gather information, evaluate the circumstances, and approach her partner composedly and calmly. Because of her keen sense of people and her emphasis on communication and trust, Natasha would know exactly how to respond to make sure that the other person's intentions and actions are in line with the cornerstones of a strong relationship.

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