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#but anyway. i don’t think anyone has any questions
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Raphael thoughts
I’ve been analyzing him a lot recently so here are some thoughts I have about my favorite cambion.
SFW
- tbh, I don’t think he’d be that bad in a relationship. He canonically says he cant resist helping you, he likes you. Maybe he almost respects you? In a way. Sure, he’d be toxic sometimes. But he even said he’d “make time for his favorite client”. He cares about you, I think he’d be pretty nice.
- For example, I think he’d buy you nice things. He has expensive taste and he’d want you to look good next to him. And ofc he’d love handing you a beautiful dress or necklace to see a smile on your face.
- he’s actually your biggest supporter. He genuinely wants you to succeed in the things you do. You can see from a conversation with Korilla.
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- He reminds me so much of Ursula lol. Flamboyant, manipulative, condescending
- It’d take a while of being in a relationship with him for him to open up, but eventually he’d vent to you about his father and issues between them. I think in general, he’s not super open, but he is quite honest.
- an example of that honesty is that he tells you that the Orphic hammer is a good trade and he writes in his journal that he really believes it is. I think he genuine likes you and wants to help you (but not quite enough to let you get in the way of his plans)
- I don’t think you can “fix” him or calm his ambition down as much as you can with Astarion or Gale. But I think you can calm him down just enough for him to let himself express his human side around you more often.
- hugs! He would be suave and very nonchalant about letting you hug him, but he secretly LOVES holding you in his arms. Feeling you in his grasp. His own little mouse all to himself.
- LOTS of banter. Well, he likes your praise and attention all to himself. But he also likes some arguing. He finds you being opinionated and having stimulating intelectual conversations attractive.
NSFW
- This guy has serious anger issues. It’s not hard to piss him off. I think it’d be a lot of fun to rile him up sometimes. He’s cute when he’s angry. Ofc, this can lead to… “punishment” and such… “activities”
- now about him being a bottom and whatever. Here’s what I think based on other headcannons I’ve heard. 1) he wouldn’t rly bottom for you. he wouldn’t submit to anyone who wasn’t him (or on his level like Haarlep who is in Raphael’s form anyway). 2) he’s “bad” in bed bc he doesn’t have to do any work to be satisfied. Haarlep does all the work and they don’t have a romantic relationship aside from sex so there’s no real reason for him to put in any effort. But you can’t tell me after idk, hundreds of years? of having sex he doesn’t know how to fuck?
- he would never make you do anything you didn’t wanna do. When it comes to how you guys do the devils tango, I think these headcannons are totally up to you. But imo, he’s a dom on the aggressive side with teasing, humiliation, and condescending praise.
If you have any bc questions (ex: would he like ___?) pls comment :) I hope you like these hcs 🫶🏼
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since i cannot fic plan at this time due to school, if anyone wants to send me asks about my wip, feel free to do that
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pizzee · 2 years
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What are some of your favorite behind the scenes details, parallels, themes, or processes that went into creating sudden unexpected guitar solo that you want to talk about/point out?
Ok strap in because this is gonna be a longy cause I love talking ab my writing and I feel like I went a little off my rocker writing this one. I’m gonna work backward from how u asked because I feel like it’ll work better that way idk.
Processes: i always start a fic with one scene, then build the rest of the story around it. This fic though, was very very different. Id originally started writing a megalong, CYOA fic (yea I know crazy right) that I got like 20k words into then dropped. It was shit, and boring. But I didn’t want to waste the material. So I ditched the old idea and went back to my original concept: Jake character study. And from there, I built.
I had a tooooon of leftover scenes I wanted to use so I kept those and made a little outline. Just general story beats I wanted to hit on. Then I went looking for inspo, which came from the usual sources. Kendrick Lamar, particularly the song ‘Mirror’, second main inspo was from an unreleased Kanye song. I went back to these lines a lot for the vibe I wanted, which was kinda lightly melancholy, a little angry, a little hopeful.
Here’s a bit of the planning process
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Then, then I started writing. Well, a little before that I picked out the bits of scraps I wanted to include and put them in some sort of order that made sense, choose a story structure that would make sense (this was the hardest part. I was originally going to do completely linear but it was not working, so I went with linear intercut with extensive flashbacks which I don’t think I’ve ever done but i like experimenting with structure anyway so it worked out alright), then I started writing. First scene I fully wrote out was the last one of chapter one, the scene with Layla. That’s actually the least changed scene too. Then from there, I wrote in order. Some scenes like Gena’s diner I wrote all the dialogue first then went back and added on. Others like the trip to Chicago was just all flow time baby. I edited some of the scrap scenes to fit the context of the story, did a few changes, then was pretty much on my way to finishing.
Oh and the title. That was actual the very first thing I wrote for this. I always write titles first cause I’m a madman, and I had this one sitting in my drafts for the longest time. I know it’s kind of the opposite vibe of the fic but I really like it and I think it kinda works. Chapter titles were also fun. I got the Jakob’s Ladder one while reading the Wikipedia page on the historial Jacob and found the themes fitting. The great Chicago fire one I remembered from a project I did in like 9th grade.
Themes: ok another way this story was super different: I actually wrote out the themes. Wooow I know I’m so organized. Main thing I wanted to hit on was that there would be no grand conclusion. No big confessions, no huge reveals, none of that. Even though the fic is long, I didn’t want it to feel big. In terms of scale of story but also how the themes are handled. Plus, it’s a Jake fic. So themes of personhood, self worth, belonging come with the cab driver.
That’s not to say there aren’t kind of major moments. I try to keep most of those in the past. The Passover flashback (and god damn were wendy’s lines hard to write), the whole military etc flashback. I think there’s only two moments of palpable anger in the present day sections: when Jake is half angry at Steven in Gena’s diner, and when he’s half angry at Marc in the headspace gym. I wanted to reserve the present for quieter parts. Some of that good healing in the present from past traumas thematic through lines, ya know?
Little domestic moments are my faves to write, mostly because Im allergic to actual intricate plots, also because I like contrasting the somber tone of the flashback scenes with the more gentle present. (Ah but I’ll save that for the parallels section, and speaking of…)
Parallels: most clear one is between the past and present. There’s a permeating sadness ab their childhood in a lot of fics I read I really wanted to capture, and I wanted it to be kind of… settling in? In the flashbacks versus easing up in the present. I really love making loops in stories, like linking the ending themes to the beginning, but this fic is more of a spiral outward. Things start in one place and circle around but don’t ever really end. Ok other parallels.
His name! The Jacob name story. That section was a segment of one of the Jake routes from that CYOA scrapped project that focused briefly on his name. I’ve lightly mentioned Jake’s Hebrew name in previous fics, or what I headcanon it to be, and when I was researching Hebrew names and their significance, I came upon the name Jacob. Then searched up the significance and thought that’s be a cool thing to weave throughout the story. Something something, the significance of names in defining our personhood and the power of having one and knowing someone’s name. And I like characters figuring out their names. Steven gives him Jakob (Steven with a v, Marc with a c, Jakob with a k), Marlene gives him Jake, he gives himself Lockley, then Jake gives Frenchie his full name, exchanges his name with Gena. And doesn’t give Elias anything. I liked that.
This is a bit of a smaller parallel, but the Jake Reveal and the final scene. I purposefully kept the Jake Reveal vague and short because again, no big reveals or anything was my rule, but I wanted the vibe to kind of parallel the vibe of the final scene. It’s Marc and Steven talking over Jake, picking him apart trying to understand him vs them talking around and with him, just naturally going with him. Them asking his name vs them saying it again and again. That was fun to write.
Oh and the parallel between the locket, the box, and the gloves. Keeping things safe, protected in a locket close to his chest vs a ground box in a city he hasn’t been to in decades that has all of their worst moments stored vs the chosen, physical barrier of the gloves. It’s just protection in different fonts.
Details: can we talk about the box? I wanna talk about the box let’s talk about the box. It actually came to me from this cigar box my mom gave me that I was trying to make into a jewelry box. I saw it and was like, “hm putting things of sentimental value in a box, compartmentalizing taken literally?” I think that one was one of the more obvious metaphors.
But my fave one was the locket. That was a thing I’ve had in my scraps forever and was actually inspired by the lock and key metaphor thing I’ve read in a lot of other fics for Jake’s last name. I loved the idea and had it spinning in my mind when I was writing but I didn’t want to use it like that because something something originality so I was like “Lockley… lock… locket.” and ran with that. And honestly? I really like it :) oh and the poem inside, I’d never read it before this fic but it fit the themes and vibes pretty good. Oh shit and
Boxer Marlene! So I really love the whole Marc is a boxer thing from the comics.I also really don’t like Marlene. Which yea not a hot take but I wanted to like her without like girlbossifying her. So I wrote her as a boxer because a) I needed a way to incorporate her into the story without fucking up the timeline and b) I think that’s cool as fuck. Thus, Marlene Arlaune became a woman from New York who’s attending the university of Chicago and really likes boxing. And she’s real fucking good at it too (which was inspired by comics Marlene learning some martial arts).
The happy endings line came from a tumblr post I think. I don’t remember which one exactly but I read it and immediately jotted it down because it was really fucking good. Anyway, I just wanted to write Layla again, because I adore her, so I wrote that little scene between them. Which is one of my faves.
Speaking of fave scenes, the Passover scene and Elias scene are up there. The Passover scene was pretty easy to write, minus Wendy an Jake’s exchange because I had to make sure my Spanish wasn’t completely grammatically incorrect. That section was inspired by the Lemire run, cause I really like the idea of them running away. And the Elias scene. I really really love it. Idk I feel like that’s the most Jake Jake I’ve ever written. It works ta me. Khonshu was also going to be a bigger part of the story and link up with the themes surrounding Elias and their parents but there was already so much going on shoving him in there would’ve been overstuffed.
Extra things:
- Sudden unexpected guitar solo was inspired by the Fooly Cooly ending song and the music battle in Doctor Strange in MoM. Really love those guitars.
- This was going to be part 2 of a three part series, all with obnoxiously long music related names and focusing on Steven, Jake, and Marc each. I was gonna call the series interior crocodile alligator. No I’m not kidding
- The gym I had in mind while writing that Jake vs Marc scene was the one from daredevil. I love my dumpster diving disaster diva daredevil
- The big tree in the headspace field was originally going to be a massive astrolabe, cause space. I changed it last minute.
- The dialogue between Marlene and Jake in their first flashback sequence was leftovers from a Jane/Valkyrie fic I started before going to see Th4r then dropped after watching it💀
- There’s a little section in the Chicago visit scene that I just ripped from an irondad fic i abandoned. the part ab trying ice cream for the first time
- Crawley was supposed to make an appearance. I might’ve forgotten ab that
- I had the last scene written for months. It was one of the first things I wrote. The last thing I wrote was the final flashback with Marlene. I added it last minute to tie things up a little neater.
- Repetition is my best friend, my soulmate, I couldn’t live without repetition
- LET STEVEN SAY FUCK!!! I think I got that from a fic where Marc was more hesitant to su duck than Steven. I really liked that
- My fave scene: the Elias talk and immediate aftermath in the backyard. It was originally going to be a grand confrontation where Jake gave a whole spiel and proudly proclaimed his name but… him asking for more sugar instead seemed more fitting
- Fave line: "Did you just say the f-word?" Sometimes, very rarely, I make myself exhale sharply through my nose in a mimicry of a laugh
- Fave moment: the “you’re not dodging” bit in the headspace. Kinda broke my own heart there ngl
- Yea there’s a reference to another one of my Jake fics, “quizás, quizás, quizás” in there.
- Yea there’s a Dane Whitman cameo
- Yea this was an extremely elaborate way for me to promote my Jake lockley has a sweet tooth agenda
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exopelagic · 14 days
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supervisor was met. god help our souls
#I think everything is fine and this is mostly residual anxiety#but also. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA#I now have a project area that I can start properly planning out which is good#and I have a vague schedule for the next month which helps a lot#next two weeks have just become very busy bc I have the majority of the writing for my proposal to do#I’m struggling most at this minute I think with why this actually matters#bc looking like my project will be abt spatial structure within populations which like cool interesting#but I do have to talk abt why anyone should care abt this#it is kinda frustrating to me actually bc I wanted to do smth with more immediate relevance now but the area I’ve ended up with#was 1. result of me dropping the topic I actually wanted to do 2. mentioning one of the first things I could figure out smth coherent for#3. supervisor latching onto that from my email and now we’re running with it#so okay like this immediate thing I’m doing won’t have any kind of application bc this is a study system so that’s not the issue#need to think wider abt what you learn from this and generalisability#has relevance to range shifts bc of climate change and from there is important to small scale evolutionary processes#whether you get differentiation or stratification within populations#potentially more relevant to island evolution and like. gene pool stuff?#I think I’m struggling rn bc I’ve not figured out my hypotheses yet and I can test things in a way that will be useful for other things#and there IS still utility in understanding things better come on I was willing to die on the pure science hill for so long#hdhdhsjdhnshdbsb I think I’m slightly frustrated by my supervisor just not thinking very much abt stuff#like he didn’t know the schedule for the proposal deadlines and I don’t think he knows the format tbh#I also had to tell him the focus was on the one year and not the extension bc. dude this is a masters I only have a year what#I know he’s done these before and it wasn’t exactly a surprise that this was coming so I’m kinda confused and a little annoyed#but okay it’s fine it’s fine. I can email him abt importance. and I’ll be asking abt titles around Wednesday once Ive figured out some ideas#rn i need to think about what I would be testing here with what I have available and how I would do it and I can write an overview from that#figure out what are the important questions to ask and I can find stuff that would be relevant to like conservation and shit#bc I KNOW that there’s important stuff here that I’m just not seeing. I might have to link stuff to fitness to get a more rounded analysis#which is also fine I can do that that’s probably a good way to tie the project together honestly. will make that one of the main aims#I think the studies on that are kinda lacking anyway and haven’t been done in a while so would still be filling a gap and if not#I can use THOSE studies for relevance of the project. that’s what im missing i think it’s the next step so I can understand consequences#luke.txt
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lesbiansanemi · 23 days
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I have started to accept I am a bit more (re a lot more) psychologically unstable than I thought for a long time and man…. I’m tired of it
#I was in a relatively good mood today#work hasn’t been too bad and I get two days off starting tomorrow#(it’s rare for me to get consecutive days so I’m excited!)#plus my time off request for a weekend in may got approved and I’m super excited for the plans that are happening on that weekend#and then my roommate messaged me bitching about my cat and now I’m spiraling#hate everything hate myself anxiety levels skyrocketed feeling the intense need to upend/annihilate my entire life and start from scratch#questioning anyone who has ever said they care about me etc etc etc and it’s like wow! because of one vague text message!#this is not a normal response haha! and now that I’m aware of that#I’ve become a lot more intensely aware that these insane mood drops actually happen quite frequently for me#issue is to do anything about this I need to see a psychologist (which I’m trying to work on anyways)#but the only diagnosis I have is for adhd and idk how to go into psychiatric care like#PLEASE PUT ME ON MEDS PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PUT ME ON DRUGS AND I DONT MEAN LIKE 10 MILIGRAMS OF PROZAC TYPE SHIT#GIVE ME MOOD STABILIZERS OR AN ANTIPSYCHOTIC OR SOMETHING I AM BEGGINGGGGG I CANT FUNCTION LIKE THIS ANYMORE#I’m also mildly concerned (being afab) that if I go in pursing certain diagnoses I’ll get slapped with a bpd diagnosis#(and obviously I don’t mean that in the sense of bpd bad or I could NEVER have bpd or anything like that)#(I just mean I really don’t think I have bpd and I don’t want to be approached from the angle of needing treatment for that cuz I don’t#think it will help. if I have ANY cluster b disorder it’s def aspd lol. lmao.)#but. yeahhhhhhhhh. I’m tired of this and I’m tired of having no treatment and being in medicated#I’m tired of pretending I can function like this forever cuz obviously I can’t lol#and eventually (probably soon) it’s gonna burn me out and I’m gonna crash so hard and uh. bad things are gonna happen 😭#kaz rambles
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rebelspykatie · 8 months
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Steve’s never had anyone show any genuine interest in the things he likes. Robin rolls her eyes when he brings up sports or silly movies that don’t have a bigger plot or character work. Even though she played soccer, she doesn’t care about it in the same way that Steve cares about basketball or football. 
The kids make fun of everything from his taste in music to his choice in snacks for movie nights. Mike calls him a little housewife for baking one time and he never shows up with cookies again. They’re never intentionally mean spirited, or at least he doesn’t think so. He knows he can give as good as he gets when it comes to catty, sarcastic comments, but he tries to steer clear of personal attacks on someone’s identity these days. He learned that lesson with Jonathan. 
But even before the party came along, it was like that. His parents never stuck around long enough to find out what he was up to, never attending a game or meet, and certainly in the dark about what he might be up to outside of school. Tommy only ever cared about himself and Carol, only following Steve around for clout, popularity by association. If he asked him right now, he’d bet a lot of money that Tommy doesn’t even remember his favorite food or the movie he used to watch when he was sick. There was a point where he thought he could share things with him. Until he realized mid ramble about sports cars that Tommy wasn’t even listening to him. He was staring at Carol and nodding along with a vacant expression. 
So he stopped sharing. Stopped caring if people knew anything about him because they never asked. People always made assumptions about him anyway. The girls he slept with only wanted one thing. The kids were happy to let him chauffeur them around with no questions asked. Robin was the only one he let in, the only one that cared about digging deeper. But, and she never said in so many words, he could tell that she thought his interests were mundane, and clearly not something that sparked any enthusiasm from her. She couldn’t even keep up with the girls he slept with, giving him the same bored stare as Tommy. 
Even now, after a few years, Steve’s reminded that they never would have become friends if not for trauma and the secret inner workings of the Russian’s within Hawkins. He’s lucky to have her, but he doesn’t think she ever would’ve chosen this, chosen him. And that’s fine. He’s used to not being chosen. His parents didn’t choose him when they started leaving him alone at age 12. Tommy and Carol chose each other and the reign of a new king when Steve fell from his throne. Nancy chose Jonathan. 
He doesn’t think he has a lot to offer. 
Well, at least until Eddie comes along. He’s taken by surprise when Eddie asks after the song that’s playing in his car. He’d assumed Eddie only liked metal music, and yeah he pokes fun at the genre of music Steve seems to stick to, begging him to give metal a shot, but he doesn’t say a word about how lame it is. When they’re having a movie night, Eddie notices that Steve gravitates towards coke and brings him one without Steve asking.
After Eddie sees his bedroom, Steve gets a pack of hot wheels for Christmas. Eddie jokes that he should give one to each of the kids as their new ride, since they seem to be ungrateful little twerps. Steve places them right under his posters on his dresser and Eddie grins at them every time he comes over. They lay in bed and pretend to drive them on the ceiling like they’re kids again. It shakes something loose in Steve’s chest. 
Eddie hates sports, but he invites Steve over on Mondays, when Wayne is perched in his chair for football. He quietly works on his campaigns while Steve and Wayne watch the games. Eddie somehow worms his way into Steve’s heart, digging deeper and deeper with each new thing, like he wants to know more. Steve’s history is a minefield, but Eddie expertly navigates through it, leaving who they were behind, building something new together. Steve’s already halfway in love with him before he even realizes that Eddie is something that he likes. 
He expects to freak out a bit more, but who is going to stop him? Who is going to care if he wants to be with this boy? He’s spent so long ignoring parts of himself for others that he wants to cherish this fragile thing, to cradle it in his hands, make sure no one can ruin it for him. When he kisses Eddie, it feels like coming home, like he’s finally found that place he’s been searching for his whole life. It’s a kind of devotion that Steve’s not used to, born of love and not obsession or jealousy or anger. 
He’s not sure he deserves it, but he’ll do everything in his power to keep it.
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on-leatheredwings · 3 months
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Sleepover
Yandere! Damian Wayne x (Fem!) Reader
romantic > summary: During a sleepover, Damian makes his first foray into infatuation. > word count: 1605 > [ a/n: i just love writing from the yandere’s point of view! Damian is 19 or college-age here. honestly not much plot, just musings~ i will try to write from the Darling’s POV next time hehe.]
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This must be love.
“Wow, Damian… I’ve never noticed but your nails are so pretty,” you compliment, satisfied with the boy’s upkeep. Damian feels his heart thrumming against his ribcage. You are holding his hand. 
Not for the first time either, but the thrill never fades. 
If this had occurred a year ago, before Damian learned of how casual (generous, even!) you were physical affection, he might have dumbly stated, “You’re holding my hand.” Instead, he simply thinks it, on loop, in one long string. 
You’re holding my hand. You’re holding my hand. You’re holding my hand.
Unbeknownst to all this, you simply paint his forefinger with a stripe of green so dark it looks black. 
“If we’re going to do this, it’ll be by my rules,” he had said. 
In reality, if you needled him any harder, he would’ve accepted pink nails with glitter on them. Who cares? There wasn’t anyone who dared to make fun of him at school. Not to mention, it’d be obvious to everyone that you painted them. You'd be marking him as yours, essentially. And at night… well, Robin wears gloves.
“Hn. How so?” Damian asks with feigned coolness. Mainly because he wants to hear you praise him. In your hushed, awed voice. When he dreams, you often sound like that. (And he quickly pushes that thought away.)
You look at him pointedly, grinning. Oh, he’s not so slick. You acquiesce to his whims anyway.
“Your cuticles are impeccable and your nails are finely trimmed… I’m impressed. Don’t you do martial arts, too? Crazy they aren’t more dinged up.”
Martial arts. That was supposed to explain his abnormal strength and fighting capability, the one time you saw him nearly break a man’s wrist for trying to pickpocket you. 
You accepted the excuse with only a little suspicion.
“It’s simple grooming.”
A catlike grin forms on your face. “Hm~ I don’t knowwww… Seems like you may be trying to catch the eye of a girl – you know, girls look at stuff like that.”
Damian frowns. 
He’s infatuated but not delusional. He’s aware this ‘sleepover’ is pretty platonic on your end. After nails, it’ll be skin care. Maybe you’ll even do your makeup and take goofy pictures with him. You’ll laugh and platonically huddle against him during a movie. You may doze off on his shoulder while he’ll be committing your every dewy, moisturized pore to memory. 
Because of Damian’s (self-admitted) social awkwardness with your peers, you think that gives you some sort of elder sibling-esque edge on him. You are the social butterfly, leading a naive, but well-meaning social pariah through the perils of young adult life. You don’t know you are so much more naive than he is, and he adores that.
Rather than addressing the question, he snorts. “When are you going to turn on the movie?”
You hum, completing his nail’s first coat. “Oh yeah, that’s right!” You grab the remote and press play. You continue painting, gingerly admiring his long, golden brown digits. Damian preens at the attention. 
As the movie plays, you pause often to look up and gape at the screen. It’s a horror flick, and boasts an abundance of cartoonish gore. While a bit more sensational than something he’d put on, he likes your dark taste. An annoying teenager gets their head hacked off with a chainsaw. You laugh and Damian feels his heart sing. 
There’s a chime that rings through Wayne Manor, and he has to bite back a groan.
“Pizza’s here!” you cheer. You begin to get up when Damian whips out his card in an instant. 
“I’ll pay.” To his delight, you gape in surprise, cheeks warming. 
“Oh… Thanks, Damian!” You never quite get used to him paying for things, but you at least know by now not to argue. You grab his credit card and – thank God – your fingers brush against each other. It sends the most pleasant trill down his spine. “Since you’re paying, I’ll go bring it! I won’t be long.”
A corner of his lips quirk. “I’ll be pleasantly surprised if it gets back to this room at all.” You stick out your tongue on the way out.
As soon as he hears your footsteps disappear down the hall – such clumsy, loud steps – Damian’s attention falls to the messenger bag you threw to the ground of his bedroom. He knows your diary is in there. (In his mind, he can hear you protest, It’s a journal!)
He’ll be quick. He flips open to a random page, and he already is laughing at your writing style. There’s little care for capitalizing letters and full of what you explained are “emoticons”, despite being handwritten. He flips to today’s entry, half-finished.
February 01. 
there’s a guy in class who’s pretty cute… one may even say HOT xP
Damian’s jaw tightens. He knows exactly who you’re talking about, and he won’t allow that neanderthal anywhere near you. At least, not again. Yesterday, you told him that your crush had smiled at you. Brushed fingers with you when passing papers. In the only class you have without Damian.
(Also, “your crush,” he scoffs. What a juvenile concept. You and Damian share something much deeper. His feelings for you are not so trivial.)
The semester is still young. Damian can pull any string to land himself in your anthropology class.
The rest of your entry for today (and the past days prior) isn’t anything notable except for when he’s mentioned. 
stressful day, but at least i have tonight with damian to cheer me up. he’s seriously the best …. i should tell him more often !!! (but it’d give him an even bigger head)
He doesn’t even attempt to stop the smile splitting his face. 
Damian’s keen hearing catches you striking up a conversation with Alfred in the kitchen. Despite your promise, he knows you will, indeed, take long. You love talking to everyone, even in passing. It’s an admirable quality, and one he envies.
He unlocks your phone and rifles through some messages of yours. He uses his own phone for documentation purposes. What else is there to do… He spies your jacket on his bed.
There is a shameful thought and Damian’s heart skips a beat. It is… frankly, it’s humiliating as a concept. Yet he’s enticed. It’s your jacket, after all. He brings it to his face delicately and inhales, almost shyly. Once he catches the familiar scent of your body wash, however, he allows himself to breathe it in. After being lost in it for a few seconds, he rips it away. 
Only to see his father standing in his doorframe. 
He knows what this looks like. Damian knows what this looks like. After years of working with the man, Damian can hear his thoughts as if they were his own, as they happen. 
Damian just smelled your clothes. Even if it was investigative in nature, he could’ve retrieved a sample some other way. Someone’s personal journal is open on the floor. A phone that he knows is not Damian’s is unlocked and displaying text messages. All these things are splayed out in a circle around him. It’s uncharacteristically messy of him, as well. Damian’s own phone is actively on his camera. Was he taking pictures? And most notable is the absence of you.
In summary? Damian must have some interest in you. And by this sloppy job, it’s quite emotionally charged. And at his age, it’s likely romantic.
Damian’s skin rises to what feels like a boiling heat. What is Father going to say? He can’t stop him – he can’t. Damian doesn’t even want to talk about it, let alone be reprimanded. A feral need to escape bubbles underneath his skin. Despite the panic, he channels years of League training and hardens himself. 
Bruce watches his son’s expression morph from dazed, to fearful, to steel, in real time. From Damian’s seat on the floor he offers his father only silent defiance. Bruce knows his son, his darker needs that stem from his cruel childhood. And perhaps he should’ve expected this to happen someday. Bruce exhales, eyes closing. When they reopen, his slate-grey eyes are firm and hard. 
“No one gets hurt.”
And by that, Bruce means no one dies. Because Bruce and Damian are Batman and Robin – they’re all in the business of hurting people. People who deserve it, yes, but it’s still hurt. Pain.
Damian feels immense relief. He wouldn’t have killed his father – he’s not that boy anymore. But a life without you seems similarly unbearable. Damian feels… shaken. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done. He also feels grateful, that it didn’t turn out any other way. 
His eyes drop to the jacket he holds in a fist.
“... Yes. Thank you, Father.” Bruce’s gaze lingers, but he leaves wordlessly.
This encounter reminds Damian of who he is. He is a detective, vigilante, assassin, and creature of stealth. He can’t be this careless, even if he knows you won’t notice. 
Damian returns your belongings to their place, exactly how you left it. Diary back in your bag, jacket to where you were lounging, your phone underneath a pillow, because you carelessly tossed it aside. You’ll inevitably begin to look for it and he’ll grin once he places it in your hand.
You finally return to his room, two pizza boxes of deluxe cheese (for him) and pepperoni (for you) in your arms. You laugh sheepishly. 
“Sorry for the wait, Dami.” His heart skitters at the nickname.
“It’s fine.” Your eyes glitter with excitement and optimism and purity. He finds it hard to look away, you raining down a gaze like that upon him.
“I was waiting for you.”
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astrogre · 3 months
Text
Astro observations 2
Disclaimer: I would like to confirm that my observations are the niche ways in which a placement may manifest, it is the way I’ve noticed it in others, the people around me, celebrities, myself and in my studies. It is not the doctrine wide broad way the placement occurs for everyone.
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Jupiter 7H can have a reputation of wanting EVERYONE. Anyone with a pulse, they like everyone, usually their dating history is so diverse that if you put all their love interests in a room together it would be the most strangest group of people. Drake has this placement and he is known for wanting, going on dates with or having a relationship with Nicki minaj, Ice Spice, Jorja smith, JLo, Kylie Jenner, Tyra Banks, Sza, Hailey Beiber, Serena Williams, literally everyone. Marilyn Monroe also has this placement and people would say the same about her. With this placement it can make the native have interest with a lot of people. You can have plenty of potential partners.
Having 12H placements Sun especially can make you feel like your gifts, talents, purpose or whatever planet topic is in it, was made for others. Like serving an ungrateful, complaining customer that ends up eating the entire plate anyway. You individually may not be selfless but it feels like the planet in the 12H benefits others and not you. It feels like a fire that burns to keep others warm.
Conjuncts to the MC (planets and asteroid) show what you are most known for in the workplace, what you’re like at your best self too. Any placements conjunct to MC show what you are like at the peak of your life and how you act in your career and what are known for in your career. That’s how MC can indicate what your career is because it focuses on who you are at your best and how others see you in the workplace and go off from there. Eg. Aquarius MC conjunct Uranus and Webb may indicate you being tech savvy at your best self so astrologers may assume you’re in tech industry or well known online, but you can still be for an example a doctor that aids in treatment with technology, your MC sign doesn’t mean you exclusively work in the industry the sign represents, it just shows you the way you work in the industry you pursue
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Neptune 1st housers may look completely different to their parents. Like you can see a hint of their parents features on their face but they don’t look that much like them. They can be born with features that are contrary to their birth parents like red hair and blue eyes in an all brunette family. Or it can be a subtle difference like they appear as if they’re from a different country, people guess their ethnicity incorrectly like all the time.
With Neptune 1st house There is nothing particularly special about these natives physical appearance in particular, they MAKE themselves special. The way they carry their physical body and animate it, is what makes these people so different and admired. They’re like puppeteers for their physical bodies. This is a continuous pattern I’ve seen, like if you just saw these people on the street sure -you’d think they’re pretty.. but not necessarily “otherworldly”, what makes these individuals perceived as such is the way they control/express their behavior. I have noticed Neptune here makes people VERY controlling over their appearances, it does make me question if Neptune is a subtly secretly controlling planet, if it manipulates subconsciously, like a child conveniently stepping on other’s sandcastles when running on the beach so they don’t have to wait their turn for the buckets, these natives can accidentally bring about their ideal version of themselves to reality and everyone is like who is this??? It’s more so like they customised their avatar in their head and showed it to everyone here in the physical plane. It’s like they made themselves a game characters in a world full of civilian people, that’s why they’re so unique looking, it’s because they wrote themselves .
Unpopular opinion but Scorpio Venus isn’t a fun sexy placement that everyone hypes it up to be. It can make you constantly end up in relationships that have weird power dynamics and are just unhealthy. You may struggle to be in a soft loving relationship because it’s not intense enough but that just leads you/partners to manipulate and themes of control in your relationship. Sure, it may be considered“hot” but not healthy. Not love.
Also another thing I’ve realised with this placement, feminine natives attracted to men PLEASE don’t intentionally flirt with someone. You’re already so intense and magnetic without realising it that if you intentionally flirt with men it’s so extreme like a 0-100, that it can overwhelm/scare them because of how predatory it may feel 💀. If a man isn’t pursuing you, he’s not interested because your always appealing and screaming out a mating call even if your physically doing nothing.
Lilith opposite moon natives can have mothers who impose traditional lifestyle and beliefs on the native. For an example the mother may be controlling and imposing her ideas of humbleness, modesty, and traditional masculinity/femininity on the child. Defensive, like she is everything but a mother herself but subjects you to standards she cannot even amount to.
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Uranus 2H feel like everything that makes them feel good and safe can be taken away in an instance. These people KNOW what it’s like to have the things they love abruptly taken from them over and over again by others or by nature, until they may even struggle to value the great things they have anymore. 2H rules your values and self worth, for these natives it gets to an extent where they don’t even value themselves because once they finally start to accept themselves they’re shown a perspective to them that they cannot accept.
It is said that the degree of a placement shows which age that planets energy starts to become active. Not sure how true that is but when you look at your natal chart, try keeping it in mind for yourself and look back to when you first had an experience under the themes of that planet. E.g for sun, when and what age did you feel seen, Venus who and how old were you for your first love or romantic partner
Sun conjunct Lilith. People with this placement may deal with their fathers highlighting the most non conforming features of themselves, the smallest of things you do will be escalated, this can manifest as slut shaming, being degraded for the way you are because you’re not “soft”, making you out to be like a chaotic mess, villainising you. Imagine having a loud snitch exposing your most “cancellable” traits. Britney Spears has this exact placement and I went to test if my hypothesis is true:
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For Britney this placement is in the 3rd house which rules communication, hence why her father made comments about her like this, but say if it was in the 2nd house it could be done by a father providing less for his child because he deems them unworthy due to their non-traditional traits. This illumination of shame is done by the themes of the house this aspect is in.
All the Sagittarius influenced natives I meet always play a loud an instrument. I’ve seen it in Sagittarius suns especially and also in sag stelliums. I have no idea why, but they always do. They play things like drums, electric guitar. I’ve also seen that they can play piano and other instruments but it’s actually not their main instrument to play and if it’s not instruments they have an interest in LOUD hobbies, like cars.
Pluto in 11th house can have one of those character AI boyfriends, be in a relationship with their NPC rpg girlfriend/boyfriend, or they can just straight up play otome games and deeply feel like they have a connection to the character, these are the kind to marry their VR chat girlfriend and play mystic messenger.
Also Pluto 11Hs if your dreams and ambitions were to be vocalised to your peers, they may find you egotistical or someone to watch out for. You are a BIG dreamer. It’s giving Azula. I think Pluto 11H natives learn to keep their ideas to themselves if they want to be successful.
Natives with Aphrodite (1388) in 1st house, when describing you people may argue on the appearance or how you may present yourself as, or who they believe you are, alike to when the men witnessed Aphrodite in mythology, they would say “she had beautiful blonde hair and a soft voice” and another man would scream at him and say “nay, she was a red haired bold aggressive woman who goes for what she wants” this is because the men see what they want to see in her, they see their ideal beauty, but can both identify it’s the same person. When they see her in person at the same time they will only see what they think she is and will not be able to see her for herself. Could indicate in your reputation, you are idolised like Aphrodite but only being liked for your beauty/the persona they project on you.
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Saturn 3rd house can make you have siblings that whip you up into shape, being a catalyst or aid to your best self, whether in a harsh way or a progressive way it depends on the sign. E.g Billie Eilish has this placement and her brother Finneas is a key aid to her success today by being the one who writes her music, and Kylie Jenner has this in Aries but her sister Kendall was her competition, worst critic, extremely condescending and critical of her body, her image, her skills even making fun of her for having lip injections in interviews etc which forced Kylie to feel insecure changing everything about herself but lead her to the popularity she has today.
Scorpio Mars isn’t a fun placement either, so many say that these natives are blessed, after all, Mars is in rulership, it gives them will power, survival instinct and makes them a shark. But people don’t discuss how being a Scorpio Mars can make you hurt others further than intended, it’s like tactically pulling the jenga block excited for your opponents next go but instead- you make the entire tower fall on your their face, they hurt themselves crying and the game ends bitterly. You won but at what cost? You can overestimate what people can take, and inevitably your loved ones may become the sorry victim of your sting. I think deep down Scorpio Mars natives know how much they hurt people and sometimes wish they weren’t so intense. I always think of Omni man from invincible having this placement.
Was working as an external motivational speaker for a school and this Gemini Sun teacher was so prim and proper, he’d sit crossing his legs and always be making sure students were extremely well behaved listening for anyone talking like this:
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I’d say rather strict. He was timely, efficient hated tardiness and I knew he was a bloody mercurial with that prestige desk organisation and flick of fingers while typing (such sass),I thought he was a Virgo but, when I pried to get his birthday (which was very difficult as he was professional and loved etiquette). He was actually a Gemini Sun. Gemini suns you guys have the goofiest of smiles and energy but you can be scary to work under. It’s SO funny how differently Gemini suns treat those on the same authority standing as them compared to the ones they’re supposed to oversee. They’re like 👨‍⚖️🔎⏰ as a boss, but personally like: 🌸😃🌈 to their colleagues. You guys also have very snappy and sassy comebacks to disrespect it’s hilarious to watch outside looking in how you even come up with such remarks. I’ve also noticed you guys can be sucky and adoring towards your bosses, but strangely it works.
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Capricorn MC, how does it feel to live my dream?? People with this placement are the most high earning, most dominant or the most respected and well known person in their field. Whether it be politics, modelling, office, technology, teaching, literally everything.. if you have Capricorn MC the way you handle your work is with an extreme amount of meticulous efforts. You go through the small print terms and conditions, execute the process with full clarity which is what makes you guys so successful. You don’t fuck around, Examples of people with this placement are Martin Luther King, David Beckham, Kendall Jenner, Rihanna, Mariah Carey, Heath Ledger, Nikola Tesla, Jeff Bezos, Alexander the Great. Notice how they’re all contenders for the title “Greatest of all time” in the fields they’re in. When they say that Saturns influence makes you established and remembered throughout history, it’s true. With Capricorn MC, you’re probably the first to set a record in the work you do and will be remembered as one of the foundations of the future.
I don’t want to reinforce stereotypes about Pisces moon. However, I’ve noticed that you really shouldn’t jokingly insult these guys. I think it’s because of their inclination to read between the lines and the underlying meaning of words that are said. They really don’t take criticism very well because they pick up the hidden meanings, e.g I once lived with one and he jokingly told me he’s going to lock me out of his room so that I don’t rob him and then I asked in all seriousness“why would I rob you?” And he was hurt and explained it’s because my question suggested that i thought he didn’t have nice clothes. (Which is true, im not interested in menswear nor his style). Perhaps this is a me thing though because im rather forthright with what I say. Maybe Pisces moons aren’t so sensitive, maybe we’re just cruel to them.
Also these natives are incredibly intelligent in terms of understanding emotions. I’ve noticed that they can easily grasp why certain people do certain things which is what makes them known to be “empathetic or forgiving” but it’s really because the concept of deep and complex emotions isn’t difficult for them to grasp. They’re like the Einsteins of human nature. And when I speak of empathy, that doesn’t mean they they can do no wrong, that’s a common misconception about Pisces moon, there are bad people within every placement but strangely Pisces moons if they are “bad” end up being forgiven for it because they garner sympathy from others. E.g Kim Jong-un, Edgar Allen Poe, Kesha, Coco Chanel, Kendrick Lamar, Vanessa Hudgens, Hilary Clinton, Elvis Presley, Michael Jackson, Kanye West, Michelle Obama.
Fama (408) conjunct Mercury can indicate being well known for your ideas and thoughts, they can stand out or perhaps the way you communicate them does. You have an attractive mind that garners attention from many, people love to hear what you have to say, it’s like being lady wistledown from bridgerton. Ben Shapiro is an example of someone with this placement. He speaks very fast and is a famous conservative speaker engaging in debates with political royalty.
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Ascendant conjunct Chiron forever being attacked for their appearance really saddens me. These natives can be treated normally but then once they do something that others don’t like, their appearance will be promptly targeted. E.g Margot Robbie (brutally called mid because male viewers didn’t appreciate her in the Barbie movie), Peter Dinklage (think he complained about dwarfism being represented in cinema but I can imagine he must have also grown up with a lot of unkind words), Priyanka Chopra (people coming for her when she married a Jonas brother), Selena Gomez (I don’t even know why but people attack her for her body apparently), Abraham Lincoln (this man wanted to free slaves I bet they made caricatures of him during the 1800s).
Venus in 10H, why is your relationship a Google search away. Everything we know about your love life is against our will. I know you love your partner but please. These natives can end up telling on themselves about the nature of their relationships. Examples: Jayda Smith (red table), Johnny Depp ( his released audio recordings), Billie Eilish (made a whole documentary about her relationship to her ex boyfriend) David Bowie (spoke pleasantly of his wife Iman any chance he got in many interviews), Kristen Stewart (cheating at award ceremonies).
Aries Mercury people are extremely motivational, they really know how to make others do something simply by their words, it can be for the bad or for the good E.g The rock (Dwayne Johnson) , Adolf Hitler, Albert Einstein, Queen Elizabeth II, Amber Heard, Mark Zuckerberg, Al Pacino, William Shakespeare. These natives can make an understaffed workforce win the battle because they remembered what you said, they’re usually quoted and the people with this placement can have really empowering but simple one liners that make you want to beat on your chest like King Kong and seize the day. Very influential and honestly the best people to have a pep talk from.
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marcsburnerphone · 4 months
Text
And they were roommates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: angsty (minimal), john being slightly troubled, alcohol, reader being slightly embarrassing.
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5!! -part 6
—————-
You wake up to the sun softly beaming in your room. Limbs stretching beyond the covers. You look around a little confused as to when you got back in your bedroom. Then it all came together. John, John leaves today.
You get out of the covers leaving your bedroom hoping he’s still there but of course to your disappointment he’s gone. You head to the kitchen knowing at least there will be a note. 
Good morning doll, I thought of waking you but decided against it, though I might regret it. The movie was good, you seemed to really be enjoying it also:) Here's the phone number of a friend in case any problems arise. Next time I’m back I hope to see another painting - John 
(xxx-xxx-xxxx) - nick
You stare at it trying not to let your emotions get the best of you. So you fold it and put it in the kitchen drawer. Although John was an awfully quiet roommate you could feel the weight of his absence. The cold floor beneath your feet has grown warm for how long you’ve stood there. You make your way towards the front door deciding that an iced coffee and a long drive with music will rid you of this feeling you can’t decipher it feels like want but in a way it’s also need but what is it you want and need? Not even you could answer that question.
Long story short you think it made the feeling intensify.
————-
1 month in
You’ve booked your schedule full leaving not an ounce of time for yourself. From the morning till night you had clients which were good for money but really it was a distraction for your mind. That same feeling felt like it was running into new veins every day seemingly consuming you. 
You tried to start a new painting but something was off about the color scheme and it was a waste not only of time but material and energy. You wonder how John is.
————-
2 months in
No problems have arisen since he’s been gone. It's like the house knows you’ll call the expensive plumber instead of John’s friend. 
However you have started a painting you are beginning to like. It’s a mix of hues you’ve never used before blues and oranges, a flame. You don’t know where or why the idea came to you but it’s what you wanted so you started it. A single candle is the outline, and the surrounding of it is the orange yellowish aura of a flame. You tried making ratatouille the other day and although it was good you wished it was made out of pepperonis like your childhood mind had imagined. You forgot there was no longer anyone to finish left overs so you ate it for three days straight.
Also you bought a new rug.
————-
3 months in
You’ve begun putting the final laminate on the painting. It’s taken you far longer than it would’ve if you hadn’t accepted 15 new clients. Not that you mind anyways. 
You’re also a little ambivalent to the idea of John paying for 6 months of rent when he doesn’t even live here during it. 
Besides that life seems stagnant and you’ve begun to lock your bedroom door at night again. 
————
4 months in
The painting now hangs a foot away from where the other one in front of John’s door does. It’s a beautiful contrast and really you were overjoyed at the outcome. You also randomly decided it’d be a good idea one night after too much wine to order new furniture for the outside deck. When it arrived you were one in disbelief of all the building pieces and and two excited to have something more to do. 
You should've stayed up the night John left.
————
5 months in  
Redecorating the deck wasn’t enough change. You needed a makeover physically but couldn’t decide how. Maybe a tattoo? No. New makeup? No. How about a haircut?  Fuck it, yes. 
So you did just that, you got a few almost unnoticeable highlights and chopped a good amount off. After the fact you were obsessed. Was it impulsive and could it have gone so horribly wrong, yes. But did it? No. 
———
6 months in 
John’s still not back and it’s all you could think about. What if something happened to him? What if he wasn’t coming back? You worried yourself sick so much so you physically became sick. 
You waited week by week for anything, maybe he’s back on base but just hasn’t come back home yet. But something was telling you it was more than that. 
———-
7 months in 
At this point worrying wasn’t going to make him appear. Your hobbies have now turned into distractions. So tonight you sit in the living room with a glass of wine and watch another rom com. You’re as comfy as can be in this cold brutal weather. It stays below 30 degrees Fahrenheit during this time of year and the snow bites at any unclothed skin. 
You fall asleep to the small hum of the heater while on the couch. Thick blanket thrown across you and tv playing as background chatter. 
You don’t know when you wake but it’s still dark outside when you hear someone that sounds distressed. Your groggy mind isn’t processing that the sound is coming from inside the house. But when it does you're up in a second looking around as your eyes try to adjust to the darkness. 
“Fuck!” You hear from down the hall. John’s room.
You walk quietly towards it as he continues to chant that word. Suddenly it falls silent and you just hear what sounds to be deep breaths. You don’t know what wills you to knock, but you do. 
“John, are you okay?” You ask softly from behind the closed door. He doesn’t respond but you know he’s in there from the quiet but quick breathing. 
“No.” He says with that familiar deep drawl.
You open the door slowly to see him sitting on the floor near the corner of his bed clearly distressed. You take notice of the mess wondering how you slept through the making of it. There’s glass from somewhere on the floor and clothes strewn but when you look at him your heart breaks. He’s in full uniform, vest on, belt with equipment on, as if he didn’t stop anywhere. Just came straight here. His hair has grown out to an odd length and his beard has grown longer. 
“I can’t get this fucking vest off.” He interrupts your thoughts looking at you with a sense of sorrow. You kneel to where he is careful to avoid glass. His eyes don’t glance up to meet yours; they stay fixated on his hands that are covered in dirt.
“May I?” You gesture towards the plastic buckles on the vest. He nods and you start with the two at his shoulders. Then you reach down his chest to undo the two near his belt buckle. You realize it must be connected somewhere in the back when it doesn’t come off. He leans forwards as you look trying to avoid the bloodstains that taint the once green vest and sure enough the tiniest but mightiest buckle is on the center of his lower back. He shrugs it off with a sigh. 
“Better?” You ask softly.
“Yeah, Thankyou.” He slowly tilts his head back to lean on the comforter and you don’t move an inch. 
“What can I do?” Truthfully you’ve never been in a situation so unbearably awkward but so unwilling to just leave.
“Just sit here with me.” So you do. You scoot right next to him and lean your head on his shoulder. He couldn’t admit it but the nights he slept in cold frost biting weather the thought of returning to your warm presence got him through.
“He almost died.” His voice gives out at the end of that sentence.
“Who?” 
“Johnny, it would’ve been my fault. One second later and they would’ve put a bullet through his skull.”
“But he’s okay?” You know John loves his team even though he doesn’t outwardly say it.
“He’s perfectly fine.” 
“Worrying about what could’ve been will kill you.” 
“Sometimes I feel like that’s what I deserve for some of the things I’ve done.” 
“If not you it would be someone else making the world a better place.” 
“I know.” 
You sit there with him for a while in silence. He can barely believe he made it back alive but right now the battle feels worth it. He hears soft snores not too long later and realizes you’ve fallen back to sleep. His head leans to rest above yours as he closes his eyes. He knows sleep won’t come to him but he’s never had you this close and for now he’ll cherish it.
————-
When you woke up again the sun had risen and a golden glow lit John’s room. 
“John.” You whisper trying not to move your head in case he’s sleeping.
“Yeah doll.” He lifts his head to look at you.
“I’m so sorry.” You feel slightly embarrassed and bad that you just fell asleep on him.
“Nothing to be sorry for.” He sighs before standing on his feet with a groan then offering you hand to help you up.
“I’m going to shower.” He says as you dust yourself off.
“After can I give you a haircut?” He laughs a little at your not so subtle realization of his long hair..
“If you’d like.” 
“I’d love.” You say before leaving, assuring him you’d be back when he's done.
You pick up your mess from the previous night. Folding your blanket and putting it back in the basket near the couch. Taking your wine glass to the sink and rinsing it out. You go to your room and change into an outfit for the day and do your morning routine. After you grab your shears, clippers and cape. By the time you're done doing all of this you no longer hear the water running meaning John’s done with his shower. You knock on his door lightly.
“Come in.” You walk in to see him sweeping up his mess with the small house broom and can’t help but smile at the sight. 
“Come on, let's cut your hair in the bathroom, better lighting and you can see what I’m doing.” You say heading straight there. You sit him on the little bathroom bar stool that’s been in there since your ex moved out. Once he’s sitting the only cape you have is pink so you throw it on him begging yourself to not laugh which you fail causing him to smirk. 
“Okay so I’m just gonna clean it up, fade the sides a very little, cut the top with shears and what not.” You let him know.
“You cut your hair?” He replies, staring at you through the mirror.
“Yeah so?” You smile.
“I like it, it looks good.” You feel that feeling only johns been able to provoke.
“Thankyou.” You begin the cut, slowly combing out sections making sure to be precise. He seems far more relaxed than you’d imagined as you just freely cut at the top. After the matter once you're satisfied you shave the sides a little just enough to where it looks cleaner. 
“Can I do your beard and mustache?” 
“You're the hairstylist, not me?” Is all he says. 
So you do, very carefully, mere inches away from his face your hands hold one side of his jaw softly to trim the other side. He watches your expression intently. The way when you’re focused there’s a crease that forms between your eyebrows and your pupils blow a little wide.
“All done.”  You say pulling him from his trance. You move his face with your hands really checking to make sure all is well.
“Very handsome.” You compliment before turning around to rinse your shears and put them away. 
“Thank You doll.” He says examining it himself in the mirror thoroughly pleased with how well you did even though he knows you don’t cut men’s hair. He doesn’t notice you grab his beard oil from the cabinet till you're smoothing it between your hands and asking him to face you so you can rub it through the coarse brown hair. Ever the nurturer.
It feels like time apart only made you two feel closer somehow. Or maybe it’s because you wanted to be close and those feelings were equally reciprocated. 
The rest of that day John had loads of paperwork to file, sign and report. So he did that, he sat in his office for long hours going through the process. The only thing that slightly lightened this burden was your voice humming in the kitchen as you cooked something. You’d stopped by and offered him some which he gladly accepted from your giving hands. Hours later you bid him a goodnight and went to bed and even then he had so much more left.
—————
The next day you catch John in the kitchen and tell him there’s something you must show him.
“So you built it all yourself?” He says as you show him your little project you did outside. There’s a thick coat wrapped around you as you don’t fully step outside to avoid slipping on the icy ground. Him though, he stands on it with no problem in what looks like military issued boots. 
“Yes I did.” You say proudly despite his clear disdain.
“I missed you, even your stubbornness.” After the months John’s been through there was no point in hiding the way he was feeling.
“I missed you too.” You smile while clearly avoiding his gaze.
How had he missed this all along?
“Would you like to go out for drinks?”
“What?” You turn around to meet his eyes.
“Can I take you out for drinks?” What being mere inches away from death does to a man.
“Yeah.” 
-
You both silently walk away trying to break the bounds of the tense pull that makes you want to gravitate towards each other. You put on something cute but also warm and slip on some brown doc martens as your choice of shoe. You do light makeup as you give yourself a pep talk.
“Only two drinks, only two drinks.” You have to tell yourself cause after two your too you. 
You hear John putting his shoes on by the hallway and take in the sight of him, brown leather jacket and beanie. You’re not sure how he’s going to stay warm in that but something tells you he will.
“Ready?” He asks and you nod nervously.
-
“Okay, hold on, I have to do this really slow or I’ll fall.” You say stepping slowly out onto the ground below the porch stairs. 
“Well come here I’ll help you.” He offers his hand. You grab it softly, swooning at the way it encompasses your own. There’s something inside of him that doesn’t even want you to risk walking on this floor but of course he also doesn’t want to push. 
“Okay nice and slow.” You’re not even taking full steps, just small slides. You clutch his hand for dear life and he loves it. 
“Good girl.” He says once you reach the door of his truck which he opens for you. He doesn’t let go till you sit inside then only does he slip his hand from your warm one and closes the door. 
“Which pub?” You ask as he turns on the heater only for your sake.
“The one downtown near the little Italian grocer.” You know exactly which one he’s talking about. Its dim light atmosphere is cozy but fun but usually full of mainly couples.
“Mkay.” You say looking out the window at the gloomy sky realizing it just might rain. 
He glances your way during the small drive, your scent of your floral perfume mixed with his of cardamom and musk is quite perfect. 
“You alright?” He asks.
“Yeah, just comfy, you?” He grins at your response.
“Never been better.”
He pulls into one of the street parking spots and despite the weather the streets are full, he gets out to put coins inside the slot for time before heading to your side of the car. 
“Wait, I'm scared.” You say realizing that the distance to the bar doesn’t seem to be a survivable one. 
“Come on, I'll hold your hand.”
“I’ll fall regardless.”
“Want me to carry you?” He genuinely offers.
“What?” You laugh. 
“Doll I’m very serious I will carry you, just get on my back.”
“What if we both fall?” 
“I’m not falling, trust me.” He says turning around motions for you to get on his back.
“Okay then.” You hook your legs around his upper waist and his arms reach to tuck themselves firmly beneath your knees.
“Comfortable?” He asks. He’s sure you can hear his heart racing from the proximity you’re in. 
“Very.” All your dreams of climbing this man have come true. 
You shut the door as he steps onto the sidewalk. You tuck your chin in by his neck for warmth. He smells woodsy with a hint of musk, it makes your head spin.
“How are you not slipping?” You say very suspicious.
“Doll I could run on this floor with these boots on.” He answers looking slightly over his shoulder at you.
“Well don’t.” You say seriously and he laughs as he approaches the bar, opening the door and setting you softly on the floor. 
He finds you both a booth in the corner and sits on the side where he can see the entire bar, very John of John.
“What do you drink?” He asks, trying to make conversation. Suddenly the air feels very intimate, almost too intimate for what he considers his old man heart.
“When I’m out, martinis.” 
“Espresso?” 
“Mhmm.” You’re trying your hardest to hold the eye contact he’s giving you but something about the blue in his eyes and creases on the side of them has you breaking it quicker than it started.
“I’ll be back then.” He says sliding out of the booth feeling slightly accomplished.
You sit there looking at the lively pub, how many romances are at their peak here, how many friends are having the best night of their lives, how you amongst them are finally feeling like you again. 
“Here we are.” He says returning with two glasses, his is a classic bourbon with a square ice cube in the glass.
“Thankyou.” You say as he slides it over to you.
“So what’d you do while I was gone, other than be reckless and build furniture.” He asks as you sip from your glass.
“I did lots of hair, painted a bit, found new color schemes for decor and that’s kinda it, I’d ask you the same question but I fear you can’t answer.” 
“Your fears are true.”
“That Kate woman, she's very pretty.” Are you a little jealous?
“Yeah she’s also very married.” He says it like he doesn’t know what you're on about.
“And also not into men.” You nearly choke on your drink and swallow hard to get it down.
“Well I was just saying.” Sure you were.
You two have small chatter as you go through drinks. You tried to offer the second round but John said no for you to just stay in your seat. He came back with thirds and you definitely were starting to feel the effects of the previous two, him though not at all.
“So you’re telling me John you as very um good looking as you are haven’t had a girlfriend in how long?” 
“Eight years.” He says while being very amused with your light hearted, open attitude.
“That’s just not right.”
“No?” 
“No, personally, well never mind.” You’re not drunk enough to say what you were about too.
“What about you, why no boyfriends?” 
“I’m very, I would say needy I guess clingy even, I’m a double texter, someone who worries and loves too much and I think that can be overwhelming for a lot of people.” You admit.
“Don’t believe that.” He says, sounding a little annoyed.
“For the right person you could never be overwhelming.” He says looking at you intensely and this time you can’t seem to look away.
Once your third drink is finished it’s raining outside and you’re words away from trouble.
“John?” 
“Yeah doll.”
“You make me feel alive again.” You admit, the alcohol has casted a pretty shade of pink on your cheeks as you lean your head on your hand and John doesn’t think he’s ever been more entranced. 
“You and me both, here drink some water.” He slides it to you. You’re sweet, too sweet. He feels like if he touches you physically or emotionally he’d be tainting art.
“Has anyone told you you're very climbable?” 
“It’s time for us to get going, you're quite the light weight.” He laughs offering you a hand as you slide off the booth.
He leaves a tip on the table before walking with you to the door. He has to bend far more than he normally would for you to secure yourself on his back before he’s walking outside. This time he’s walking faster because of the rain droplets that are falling hard. He seats you in the car and reaches across you to buckle you in before heading to his side. 
The drive home is pretty quiet, he drives extra slowly because of the precious cargo he carries. Once he pulls back into the gravelly drive way you unbuckle and open the door as he puts the car in park. 
“You don’t want to wait for me.” He asks, a little concerned.
“I got this.” You hop out of the elevated truck immediately slipping and having to grab onto the door. He walks quickly to your side laughing at the expression on your face.
“You sure do.” He says as he grabs your arm
“Oh stop it.” You say accepting the help, sliding your feet on the ice again till you get to the door. Once you get inside you groan into the toasty air. 
“Thankyou for tonight John.” You say facing him once you kick your boots off. You hadn’t realized how close you were till you turned around and could feel the heat radiating off of him and smell the bourbon on his breath. 
“No, thank you.” He says feeling awfully captivated, hanging onto your every move. You cup his face and stand on your tippy toes, boldly yet slowly placing a kiss on the corner of his lips. 
He’s starstruck. Absolutely dazed at the look of mischief in your eyes, something that tells him you know exactly what you’re doing to him. 
“Goodnight John.” You say patting his chest and walking down towards your room.
—————
I couldn't wait till tommorrow i'm sorry.
comments and reposts are greatly appreciated:)
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gallavichsreddie1128 · 2 months
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Older (Dean Winchester)
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Description: Y/N has a crush on Dean but they have a 20 year age gap. How does Dean react when she finally tells him?
Warning: Smut, Age Gap
Word Count: 1,743k
Y/N watched Dean as he washed Baby. His big muscular arms on display with the tight white shirt that had dirt on it. Baby was soapy and wet as Dean wiped her down. Y/N was trying not to drool as he went in circular motions cleaning the car. She was too into the scene in front of her; she didn’t notice Sam coming up to her side. “Stare any longer he might just notice your obvious crush on him.” He said to me, making her snap out of it. She turned towards him and rolled her eyes. He chuckled and handed her a beer. She took it from him and took a drink. “Ya think maybe he’s too old for you.” He said. Y/N pushed him and they both laughed. She sighed and looked at Dean again. He was pouring water on the soapy car. She sighed and got up  from her spot and walked into the house. She needed a cold shower to erase the dirty thoughts from her mind. 
It was days later that she’d be staring at the older man as he made breakfast. They had just come back from a hunt and Y/N was hungry so Dean offered to cook for her. Sam was getting some sleep but the other two were wide awake. “How do you like your eggs?” He asked her as he got them out of the fridge. “Over easy.” She said and he cracked the two eggs on the pan. She watched as he put the bread in the toaster. “You really didn’t have to make me anything.” She said as Dean put the eggs on the plate. “But I wanted to. You deserve it putting up with us.” She laughed as he set the eggs and toast in front of her. She thanked him. “Well I like putting up with you guys.” She said. He got his plate and sat across from her. “What, you got a crush on one of us?” He joked but she didn’t laugh. “Nah we’re probably too old for you anyway.” He said. She stared at him without saying anything. She shook her head and went back to eating her food. “Yeah totally.” She said. 
She woke up 7 hours later in bed and yawned. She remembered the cringey things Dean asked her this morning and she sighed. She thought for a second when he asked her that she was caught. Luckily Dean was oblivious.She got out of bed and stretched. She walked out of her room and noticed Dean at the table on the computer. “Where’s Sam?” She asked. “Grocery Shopping.” He said and nodded and sat down across from him. He looked up from the computer at her. “So back to early convo you probably like Jack don’t you?” He asked. She looked at him confused. “No, not the antichrist.” She laughed. “Do you even like anybody?” He asked. “Dean, can we not talk about this?” She asked not wanting to expose herself. “Yeah sure.” He said and went back to research. The silence now,awkward and unwanted. 
Why was Dean so curious about who she had feelings for or if she did? She honestly thought that Dean was too old for her but that’s how she liked it. They were eating dinner and she had a glass of wine. Dean sat across from her and Sam sat next to Dean. Jack and Cas sat next to her. Everyone was in a conversation except her. She never talked much while eating. She sometimes butted in with Jack and Cas but other than that kept quiet. Dean noticed her silence and wondered if it was about his question earlier. The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable. After dinner was over she helped him clean up.
She didn’t say anything to him so he figured he thought correct. “I’m sorry about the question earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He said. She looked at him. “You didn’t.” She said and poured herself some more wine. “If I did I would completely understand-” “Dean.” She interrupted him. He looked over at her and she was holding the wine and her upper body on the table a little. Her boobs are perfectly on display. “What are you-” She took a sip of wine and smirked. “I told myself I’d never fuck anyone old enough to be my dad.” She states. He stares at her in shock. She stood up and walked closer to him. “That was until I met you.” She said seductively. “Wait you like me?” He asked her confused but kinda turned on.
She nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And before you give me any of that age bullshit. I’m 22 i’m an adult.” He stared at her as her hands ran over his chest. “You have no idea what you do to me Dean.” She says and her hands lower themselves to the bottom of his shirt. She tugs on it and he looks down seeing what she was doing. “Y/N are you sure?” He asked her. She looked up at him with lustful eyes. “Are you sure Dean? Think you can handle me, old man?” He chuckled and picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.She laughed as he took her to his room. He threw her on the bed and smirked. “I’m 42 sweetheart not 72.” He said and took off his shirt revealing his amazing body. She was almost drooling at the sight. He crawled onto the bed and hovered over her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him down in a kiss. He moved his lips against hers as his hands traveled her body. He lifts her tank top up a bit and she pulls away from the kiss. She sits up and removes it showing her white bra. He looks down at her boobs and cups them. “Wow you’re so sexy.” He says and moves his hands to her back. He unclips the bra and she lets it fall freeing her boobs. He smirks at the sight and leans down to put one of her nipples in his mouth. She gasps his name and her hands go to his head as he licks and sucks. Her hands moved to his jeans and she cupped his growing erection. He moans against her nipple. “Dean take these off.” She breathes out. He pulls away from her nipple and gets up to remove his jeans. He pulls them down along with his boxers. She moves herself to the end of the bed and pulls him closer to her. “I didn’t know if I want you in my mouth or inside of me.” She says and he chuckles. Her eyes staring at his long hard cock. “Both would be ideal but right now I really need to be inside of you.” He tells her and pushes her back on the bed.
She smiles as he pulls down her panties. He gets back on her and kisses her again. She runs her hands up and down his muscular back. He pulls away and sighs into her mouth as he lines himself up with her entrance. He pushes in slowly and she gives a sharp gasp. “Are you okay?” He asked. She nods. He pushes in deeper and her noises fill his ear. She hadn’t had sex with many people and certainly not with a guy this big before. Once he was in her all the way he let her adjust to him. They stare at each other as she adjusts to him. He got lost in her eyes not believing that this was happening right now. She pulled him out of his thoughts when she thrusted up. She moaned as the pain was gone and she was full of pleasure. He started moving his hips and she let out little moans. Her eyes closed and her mouth opened. He didn’t let his eyes close as he watched her facial expressions. He groaned as her hips started matching his. She grabs his neck and moans his name. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He breathes out and she opens her eyes to look at him. “You feel so good inside of me.” She whimpers. He leans down and starts kissing her neck. She gasped and pulled him closer if that was possible. “Dean, go faster.” She begged and he moved as fast as he could.His hips pounding into her hard and fast making the bed screech. His lips left marks on her neck. Neither of them cared at the moment.
He pulled out of her some and angled his hips. He slammed back in her and hit her g spot making her scream. He covered her mouth with his hand. “Gotta remember sweetheart we aren’t the only ones here.” He groans in her ear. She tried to keep her sounds to a minimum but with him pounding at her g spot that didn’t work. “Dean, you feel too good.” She mumbles in his hand. He nods. “Fuck I know baby. You feel amazing.” He moans. She felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge. He was twitching inside of her signaling that he was close too. “Baby I'm close.” She moaned and he groaned out a me too. She gasped out feeling him fill her up which triggered her orgasm. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as her orgasm hit her. She bit her lip trying to hold back the loud noises that threatened to spill from her. Her hips moved up as she rode out her high. Dean watched her and almost became hard again. Her hips slowed and she opened her eyes seeing Dean already looking at her. “That was hot.” He smirked. She rolled her eyes. “Yeah well thanks to you.” She smirked back. He pulled out of her causing her to moan.
He got up and went to the bathroom and got a wet towel. He came back and cleaned her and him up. “Such a gentleman.” She teased. He laughed and threw the towel in the laundry bin. He collapsed next to her and yawned. “Tired old man?” He turned to look at her. “Baby I could go another 5 rounds.” He said. She turned towards him and smirked. “Prove it.” She said and he smirked. Sam couldn’t sleep that night but Dean and Y/N weren’t complaining.
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fingertipsmp3 · 2 years
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Living in a small town is conceptually bad on basically most if not all levels, but they went off with the communal village cat who lives in the church garden and can be visited at pretty much any time
#they were like. i know what’ll raise the serotonin levels of mentally ill 20-somethings. chonky cat#i go to see him so much now that he chirps at me and runs to the gate to greet me#he likes to sit on me too and i really need to start bringing a second jacket to lay over my lap so that he doesn’t nick me with his nails#i don’t think anyone is clipping them#but yes. shoutout to thomas for cheering me up after i had a job interview that i feel went badly#i mean the main part of the interview went okay but then the guy asked me to make a short introductory video to be sent to schools#and That part was kind of disastrous because i blanked on a major question#i hope he comes through for me and edits it down so it’s a bit less terrible. idk how zoom recordings work but if it creates a video file#i assume that can be done? he didn’t ask me to retake it so either he thinks it’s fine or he straight up doesn’t care#either way. i’m just glad that’s over. i really need to prepare my interview answers better lol#my answer to every single question cannot be ‘gosh i don’t know if i’ve ever thought about that before’#i am a ridiculous person. and the thing is i look so good on paper with my education and experience#but then you meet me and hear me talk and you’re like ‘who or what is this’#i feel like more than one prospective employer has gone away thinking ‘is she lying? is she committing fraud? whose master’s degree is this#it’s mine okay??? sorry that doing a master’s in english literature online during a global pandemic while living in a house with 3#other postgrads and slowly going bonkers didn’t improve my social skills#and sorry that my pgce didn’t improve my social skills either. all my students were teenagers who were basically catatonic as their brains#had been fried by tiktok during said global pandemic. i do not think any of this is my fault#anyway i’ll cut that impromptu rant off there#if you need me i’ll.. well i don’t know what i’ll be doing. a book i preordered arrived this morning and i said i’d read it#so maybe i’ll try. or maybe i’ll listen to a podcast and work on my latest knitting project (baby blanket for my goddaughter)#or maybe i’ll stare into space for a bit. who can be sure#personal
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yuwuta · 2 months
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JUST KEEP LOVING ME THE WAY I LOVE YOU LOVING ME — SATORU GOJO
pairings. satoru gojo/reader
content, warnings. non-curse au, doctor au (reader), ceo au (satoru), no real content warnings, fluff, satoru is nothing but a romantic at heart
word count. 3k
notes. this exists in the post-completion au of a larger universe/incomplete fic of mine, that i will hopefully finish someday lololol but this is way easier to write than that so here you go 🥳
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“There are four chairs worth a collective seventy-five hundred dollars in this office, so, pray, tell, why is your ass on my desk?” 
Satoru grins at your words, too distracted by taking in the sight of you to take into consideration the underlying threat. It’s been far too long, almost three whole days since he’s last seen you and, god, you look good. He knows if he said that you’d roll your eyes and insist that there’s nothing good-looking about your worn-in business attire and lab coat that was in desperate need of laundering, but it wouldn’t change his opinion: you always look good, and Satoru really fucking missed you. 
Which is why he doesn’t say the words, but makes sure to throw a deceivingly charming wink your way so that you get the message anyway. As expected, you still roll your eyes, but he doesn’t mind; you look good doing that, too.
“Seriously, Satoru, what are you doing here?” you question, closing the door behind you when you fully step into the room. You make pace towards your desk, attempting to get to the other side, but this is exactly why Satoru chose to lean against it instead of sitting on any one of your very expensive and comfortable chairs—because this way, he’s in the perfect position to intercept your path and pull you to fit neatly between his legs before you can even think about reaching your office chair and ignoring him. 
He pulls you by the loop of your lab coat, but his hands quickly find their way to your shoulders, unpeeling the white layer just enough so that your blouse is exposed to him, and he can slowly rub his palms against your arms and shoulders with just enough pressure to hopefully release some tension. You won’t let go of all of it, but that’s alright, because Satoru’s got other methods for taking care of you.
“Hi,” he calls, smiling gently down at you, “I missed you.” 
This close, Satoru can see the exhaustion clearly in your eyes. There’s more, too: frustration, guilt, worry—and it takes everything in him not to coo and pull you into his chest and do his best to shield you from the world forever. 
There’s a beat before you speak, a small sigh, that’s quickly painted over with a tired smile and a remorseful, “I missed you, too. I’m sorry for being so short, the interim chief has been getting on my last nerves, and—”
“You don’t have to apologize,” Satoru cuts in, leaning forward to press a reassuring kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax under his touch. “I know you’re busy. I just missed you.” 
It’s not easy to share you with anything or anyone, but Satoru knows that even on the hardest days, you love your job, and that so many people need your brilliant mind. What he does mind is when people make your job harder than it needs to be, and he’s been getting an earful about this new interim chief from just about everybody—you, Kento, Yuuji, Ieiri, even some of your favorite scrub nurses have indulged him in the gossip about the newest common enemy—and he doesn’t appreciate that someone is putting extra stress on his baby. So, even if it is a makeshift massage in your office and distracting you from your paperwork, Satoru will do what he can to help you relieve tension. 
You reach your arms to wrap them around his shoulders, taking a half step closer to him, peering up at him. Satoru loves when your arms are around his neck like this; he can’t quite pinpoint why—maybe it’s the way you have to crane your neck to look up at him, the way you’re perfectly nestled under his view, the feeling of being wrapped in you. He does his best to close the loop of your intimacy, resting his hands on the small of your back and pulling you impossibly closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax into his touch.
“You’re sweet,” you smile, rubbing your thumb against the shorter hairs at the back of his head. Satoru feels himself melt into you, too. It’s been too long since you’ve been this close, three whole days too long. “Thank you.”
“Nothing to thank me for, baby,” he smiles, stealing a gentle kiss. Satoru loves this the most, loves the feeling of your lips on his—and it’s definitely been too long since he’s kissed you, so he makes sure to do it again, and once more after that for good measure. 
But it’s not enough. He’ll have to take you home, sit you on the couch so he can kiss you all night and make up for the lack of kisses and touches and youness he’s been deprived of these past few days. But first, he’ll have to pull you away from your work, and that’s not easy work. 
“Come home,” he muses, leaning his forehead against yours, “We can order in, and share your favorite bottle of wine, and watch a movie.” 
You lean up to kiss him briefly. “Every time we share a bottle of wine, we end up making out and not watching anything.” 
“Do we?” Satoru feigns innocence, “I never noticed. Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, though.”
“Satoru,” you whisper, quiet but firm, with a smile that lets him know you want to, but you can’t. It’s a tone that Satoru knows all too well, and isn’t particularly fond of. “I have charts to finish.” 
“Finish them tomorrow,” he steals another kiss, “Or pawn them off on Kento,” another kiss, “Or Yuuji. Residents always need more experience—isn’t that what you and Ieiri always say?” 
You let him kiss you again, and again, and again. Each time a little longer, a little warmer, a little less innocent than the last, growing from a little, to a lot, to all-consuming. Satoru hums when he feels your nails raking through his hair; an unfortunate move, as the sound pulls you back to reality and away from him in a decrescendo of kisses. 
“You’re really good at that,” you laugh, voice soft. 
“At kissing?” Satoru dips his head down to taste your laughter against his lips, “Thanks, I’ve had a lot of practice with a very pretty girl.” 
“No,” and you’re laughing again, louder this time, and Satoru counts every little giggle as a victory, “You’re good at... seducing me without saying you’re seducing me.”
“Oh, that?” he grins, tucking his pointer and index finger under your chin to meet you in a knowing kiss, “Yeah, that’s a talent of mine, too.”
You let him steal one more, and Satoru doesn’t take it for granted. “Come home,” he whispers against your lips before slotting them in yet another kiss, “I miss you.” 
And he can feel it when you finally break, sighing into the kiss, and melting into his touch completely. One more, he just needs one more kiss to seal the deal, and then—“Fine,” you concede, “But I get to choose where to get dinner from.” 
“Of course, sweets, whatever you want,” Satoru grins, pulling back to kiss your forehead again, “Now—shall we? If we order in the car, we can probably pick it up on our way home.”
He’s in the home stretch now, but he’s not completely free: if you catch a glimpse of your work, or someone comes in to find you, or your godforsaken pager beeps then all of his plans could come crumbling down before him. The key to transitioning from the “you’ve agreed to come home with him early stage”—if you can count 9:45pm, coming off of a 17-hour work day as early—to the “we are actually leaving this hospital and nobody can stop us phase” is swiftness. This time period is critical, and Satoru is ready for the sprint. 
He shimmies your lab coat all the way off of your body for you, checking for the weight of your pager in your right pocket, before hanging it on the back of your chair. He shoos you to grab your coat, and makes sure you don’t get within three feet of this side of your desk—taking your purse out of your locked drawer and closing an open file folder in the time it takes you to slip out of your heels and into your sneakers, and by the time you’re turning back around, Satoru is already there next to you, with your purse in one hand, and his other hovering on the light switch. 
He makes sure you’re out the door first, and flickers off the light with a satisfied grin. His baby was coming home early with him, and there is nothing else he’d rather do than spend time pampering you. 
You must truly be more tired than you know, because you make no protest when he slings an arm over your shoulder on your way out of the elevator. Usually, you chastise him for any PDA within hospital walls, but tonight you let it be, even leaning some of your body weight against his as you walk. Satoru’s not complaining at all, maybe he’ll try his luck and sneak a kiss on your cheek. 
He decides to go for it, leaning over for a kiss, when you suddenly pull away, turning and patting against your side. Confused, and disappointed, Satoru pouts, “We’ve really got to work on this fear of affection you’ve got going on, sweets. It’s the leading cause of makesatorupout-itis.” 
“We’ve been over this—you can’t just add “itis” to the end of your words to make them diagnostic,” you giggle, “I was looking for my keys.”
Satoru’s frown deepens. “You have the fancy reserved doctor parking space, they can’t tow you. So, we can take my car home.” 
“No, we cannot, because I do not trust you to wake up and drive me back tomorrow morning.” 
“Then I’ll get you a cab in the morning, or—even better, I’ll call Ichiji to pick you up.” 
“Ichiji is still in Paris,” you remind him. Satoru purses his lips. He did ask Ichiji to stay with Megumi. Damn it.
“I have other cars, you can drive one of them in the morning.” 
“And park it where?” 
“In your fancy reserved doctor parking—oh, okay I see the flaw there,” Satoru pulls back. You find amusement in his disappointment, but he doesn’t think there’s anything funny here. 
He shakes his head. He should have taken a cab from his office, but this is okay, a minor setback, nothing he can’t think around. “New plan: we take your car, and I’ll come by to get mine tomorrow. Easy peasy.” 
“Yours will be towed by then.” 
“That’s fine,” Satoru shrugs, “I can afford a tow fee.” 
“Satoru,” you call, reaching your free hand up to place your palm against his cheek, “We both drive home. It’ll be thirty minutes, tops. Forty if there’s traffic, but if you stop pouting and we leave now, we should be fine.” 
Satoru sighs. He knows that’s the most reasonable plan of action, but the simple truth is that he doesn’t want to be away from you right now, even to go the short distance home. He’s already spent the last few days without you, and even though this is calling it in early for you, he only gets maybe four hours awake with you before you’re off again. Thinking about that makes him miss you again already. Pathetic, maybe, but he doesn’t care.
“Oh, Dr. (_____), hey!” Yuuji’s voice is an easily distinguishable interruption to your petty argument, and Satoru’s sulking, “Perfect timing—I’m glad I caught you before you left. Is it okay if I ask you to sign something before you go?” 
You easily warm up to the younger boy and agree, fondly making conversation with Yuuji as he scrolls through some documents on his tablet. And just as you’ve finished scribbling your signature along the screen, Satoru has a bright idea. 
“Hey, Yuuji, you can drive right?” Satoru questions rhetorically, already reaching for his wallet and car keys, “Great! Here’s two grand, it’s all yours if you drive this car home tonight.” Satoru smiles widely, shoving his keys and some cash into the pocket of Yuuji’s white coat. 
“What—really? Awesome! But, why—” 
Satoru dismisses his disbelief with a wave of his hand. He steps a bit closer to Yuuji, just enough to lean into his ear and tuck a couple more bills into his pocket, “And between you and me, that’s an extra three grand if you finish up a couple of charts for my lady so she can sleep in tomorrow. Not a bad deal, right?” 
“Sure, no problem!” Yuuji salutes, “I’d do anything for Dr. Almost-Gojo. Plus, if I’m busy working for her, then I don’t have to babysit cells in a dish for Dr. Gakuganji.” 
“Atta boy,” Satoru ruffles his hair, “Catch you later, Yuuji, I’ve got a hot date to get to. And tell Nanamin I say hello!” 
You elbow Satoru shallowly, a silent warning to keep his voice down, and a verbal chastising of, “It’s Dr. Itadori and Dr. Nanamin to you.”
“More like Dr. Nanameanie,” Satoru laments, resuming the position of his arm around your shoulder, “I’ve left him six calls this week! He’s so cruel—he knows I have to leave next week and he’s depriving me of one on one time. I think I’m gonna have to sneak into his office at lunch tomorrow and confront him.”
Despite his crass words and dramatics, you laugh, and so, Satoru smiles. He finally gets that cheek kiss right as you two reach your car, bending down to plant one for you at the same time he steals your keys from your hand and banishes you to the passenger seat. He’s not much of a driver himself, despite his excess amount of cars, but you’re his baby and you deserve to be driven around no matter the case, but especially when you’ve spent all day taking care of other people. 
Plus, on days like this, if he’s real careful and smooth, you fall asleep in the car and he gets to carry you inside. He makes that his goal for the next thirty minutes, and he succeeds in twenty, confirmed by your soft snores just as he pulls into the curbside pick-up spot of your favorite restaurant. He retrieves the take-out as quietly as possible, before making the rest of the journey home, taking the time to glance over at you during red lights. 
Satoru loves the way you look when you’re asleep, loves to see you well-rested, but something even more dear to him than that is a fact that Nanami let slip in the aftermath of a dinner party he’d hosted about a year after you two had started dating: “She never sleeps outside of her bed, for as long as I’ve known her,” he muses, nodding to your sleeping figure on Satoru’s couch, “Not even in the on-call rooms during our 72 hour shifts. She must... she must really trust you, Satoru.” 
(He also recalls the awfully strong grip on his shoulder and subsequent shovel talk Kento gave him a moment later. Not that Satoru ever had anything but pure intentions with you, but the threat of breaking Kento’s best friend’s heart was more than enough to keep his commitments in check).
Satoru peers at you fondly in his arms, held bridal style with the takeout in the grip of a pinky finger, glancing up only to nod and thank his doorman for pushing the penthouse button for him. Satoru prides himself on many things, but the one thing he always holds in his highest regards is you: call him cocky, but he thinks he’s quite good at caring for you, that there’s nobody else fit to look after you the way that he can; and knowing that you feel safe in his arms is the highest honor he could achieve in this life.
He sets you carefully on the couch once he steps inside the apartment, and places the food on the coffee table. He debates whether or not he should wake you up now; he hates to, but he knows you need to eat, and, selfishly, he wants to cash in on those few hours he has with you to hear your voice. 
He’ll dish out the food first, and then wake you up to eat, he decides. He leans down to kiss the crown of your head, eyes flicking to your face, and pausing at your neck, where your engagement ring rests crookedly against your skin. You must have had an emergency surgery today, he thinks; your schedule for today was originally just to round on post-op patients and attend some meetings, but you knot the ring into your chain when you have to scrub into the operating room. 
Carefully, Satoru reaches to undo it from the chain, and slips it back onto your ring finger. It looks pretty against your skin when it’s around your neck, but personally, he thinks it looks best this way, the sparkle of the aquamarine against the halo of diamonds fits perfectly across the width of your finger, just the way he had it made to be.
Satoru bends down even further to kiss the back of your hand, before laying it to rest on your stomach. He might need to bribe Yuuji to take care of some more work for you, you two really should get a move on that wedding planning, and you’re going to need at least a week off to fly and visit his grandma’s pastry shop in Osaka for cake tasting.
He smiles at the thought. He doesn’t feel so bad about waking you up now—wedding talk seems like the perfect way to end the evening if you ask him; there would be no sweeter sound than hearing how you imagine the start of the rest of your lives to be. 
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berzahoes · 5 months
Text
when you know you know | tom blyth
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summary: the idiots finally meet (nepo baby!reader)
an: i can always count on reddit for inspiration bc i rewrote this a bunch of times 😭 also these are just random names for the friends lol @astheni-a
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“don’t look now, but the guy behind you is staring.” your friend, meg, whispered to you. you and a couple of your girlfriends were seated in the food court of the mall. after a while, meg noticed that a group of guys sat a few tables away, one of them occasionally glanced at you.
“he’s cute,” your other friend, layne, joined in.
your other friend beside you, louise, smirked at you. “someone’s got a crush. think about it, we can all go on dates together if he asks you out.”
you rolled your eyes. “i don’t even know what he looks like. meg told me not to look.”
“he has brown hair, probably six feet and really pretty eyes. i think that’s all you need to know about your future man.” meg said.
“you just described almost every boy here,” you replied. you looked down at your drink and noticed it was almost empty so you gathered your trash and decided to go throw it away. “i like being single anyways. i have more me time.”
“babe, we know you don’t like it. just talk to lover boy over there and if you don’t like him then that’s that. we won’t push you to talk to any one else ever again.” layne said.
“just this one time.” you sighed. secretly, you did want someone to love. you never had an official boyfriend. during high school, you were talking with a guy from math class, but you quickly found out he just wanted to meet your famous dad. after that, you had difficulty knowing what relationship and friendships were real.
you stood up with your empty drink cup and walked to the nearest trash can. after throwing your trash away, you tried to look over your shoulder to see what boy meg had been taking about, but you couldn’t figure out who it was. brown hair, pretty eyes, tall . . . that could be anyone.
you sighed and decided to just turn around and look instead of looking like a creep, but just as you turned around, a guy had walked right in front of you almost causing his drink to spill.
“oh my god, i’m so sorry.” you immediately apologize.
“it’s okay, um are you . . . okay?” he asked shyly.
“yeah, I’m good. i’m sorry again. i . . yeah sorry.” you kept repeating as you looked at his eyes. they were a beautiful blue color. you were a sucker for colored eyes. well the british accent was a bonus too.
“i’m tom.” he introduced himself.
“i’m yn. nice to meet you. sorry for almost making you drop your drink. sorry, i apologize too much. it’s a habit.” you chuckled nervously.
get it together, yn
“no, it’s fine, wasn’t really drinking it anyways. so . . are you here alone?” he asked, but regretted it immediately when he noticed it might’ve sounded creepy.
“no, i’m with my friends. i’m sorry, again, i noticed the accent, you’re british. are you visiting good ol’ new york?” you questioned.
“studying here actually. i go to juilliard. what about you?”
“i’m actually from los angeles but i visit here quite often. it’s my second home. but i do travel a lot so i call multiple places my second home. sorry if i ramble, i do that when i start getting comfortable.”
from the table, your friends saw how you talked with a stranger.
“does anyone know how to lip read?”
“shhh! shut up layne!”
“who’s gonna tell her that’s not the guy we were talking about?”
“i don’t want to break her heart. plus he does look exactly like how meg described so a win is a win.”
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Text
Dp x Dc Crossover
Danny and Ellie somehow get tangled with Cadmus and frozen for study later. Obviously it comes to the JL’s attention and they all go ‘oh no another clone’. Anyone’s choice of who they think it is or if it’s a collection of people they took DNA from and meshed together to make these two sassy children.
Would be funnier if they came to DC universe by accident and didn’t have time to really learn about it before capture. The result being they have no idea superheroes are a thing and the heroes just thinking ‘these kids were traumatized and held captive, they don’t even know who Superman is!’ and cue another layer of hilarious misunderstanding.
When confronted about the whole clone thing, Danny immediately defends and protects Ellie. Obviously. Then they notice he was not defending himself, to which Danny goes ‘I’m not a clone!’ The heroes look at each other in clear doubt. ‘Oh he was in denial or seriously didn’t know who he was made from. That will make this harder.’
I may have started something though…
They found a discrete laboratory hidden in plan sight, underneath an office building. When researched, they found connections to Cabmus.
Considering the last encounter they had with the organization, they wanted to be prepared. Hence why when the small team noticed Batman walking down the stairs, Superman followed behind with a tight expression.
“Report.”
Red Robin stepped forward.
“Two cryo-stasis containers holding two nearly identical people. The first a male, approximately 13-14 years of age. Stable. The second a female, younger, approximately 10-11 years of age. Also stable, but her stats are lower than the boy’s.”
“What do you know?”
“Virtually nothing,” Connor says casually. “There are no documents left behind, digital or physical, and there are zero labels on these things.”
They arrive toward the back of the basement where the two frozen containers were sitting upright. One unit obviously smaller than the other most likely holding the girl. Batman has to peer down into the larger unit to see the boy’s face. Frost collected on his eyelashes and black hair like a forgotten doll. No movement from either forms, not even breathing.
“So we don’t know who they are made from,” Superman pushes, clearly displeased.
Batman keeps looking at their faces. The curve of their noses, the shape of their jaws, the positioning of their cheekbones. They didn’t look like Connor. No, they reminded him of someone else.
“We suspect hybrids of some sort,” M’gann contributes. “A mixture of different heroes if I had to guess, but there is no way of knowing with our lack of information without waking them up.”
“Can’t you look into their minds?” Clark questions.
M’gann squirms at the directness and Connor steps forward to defend her. Tensions rise.
“No, sir. They are frozen so there is hardly any brain function except to keep them alive. They aren’t even dreaming.”
She looks them over sadly, obviously distraught with not being able to connect to their minds in anyway.
Batman turns to Red Robin, the younger already watching him.
“You see it too, right?”
Batman grunts. Yes, he saw it.
“Is there a way to move them?” Batman brings back the focus.
“The containers are connected to the buildings power and then a back-up generator in case of emergencies. We’d have to switch the power to something mobile and there’s no telling what kind of effect that would have on the kids,” Connor explains, against the idea of moving them.
“It’s six in the evening. Most everyone in the building above as gone home for the day,” Red Robin helpfully adds.
“Evacuate the rest. Then call a medical team.”
“Wait,” Superman interrupts as the three younger heroes jump to do as instructed. “You’re not thinking about waking them up now, are you?”
“You have a better idea?”
Batman doesn’t even look at him as he studies the stats on the old screen connected to the nearest pod. This one holding the boy. He’ll be the first one out seeing as he’s the more stable one.
“They could be dangerous. They could try to attack us.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Batman deadpans. He didn’t state the obvious that they were children who had been frozen for who knows how long. If anything they’ll need reassurance that they were safe, not weapons in their faces as soon as they wake up.
Clark was not happy with his decision, but as long as he didn’t antagonize them Bruce left him alone.
It wasn’t long before they were ready to begin. Three medical personnel stood several yards back behind the heroes. Red Robin begins the defrosting procedure and they have to wait maybe an hour before the door slides open. There is a breath among them as they wait for his eyes to open. Instead they hear a cracking of thin ice and the boy falls forward without the door holding him in place. Connor is the one to catch him before he hits the floor face first.
Superboy turns him to lay him flat on the floor, the boy’s body still stiff with cold. Frost makes his hair and eyelashes brittle. His lips are a faint shade of blue.
“He isn’t breathing,” Connor informs quickly.
One of the medics push forward first, oxygen mask in hand.
“Bring the thermal blankets. We need to get his core temperature up,” the woman urgently instructs.
They get to work quickly in warming up the boy who is too small and fragile. After several minutes of the medics squeezing air into his mouth and rubbing his limbs and chest to get the blood flowing, the boy takes a breath. Then another. He coughs roughly, his throat scratchy, and starts to shiver.
“There we go.”
He whimpers and tries to move his hand, but the action is jerky and unpracticed.
“His eyes,” M’gann informs them, finally able to get some brain activity. “He can’t open his eyes. The ice-“
Connor takes a water bottle the medics brought and poured the room temperature water over his eyes to melt the ice holding them together. The boy jumps in surprise and tries to turn his head away but Connor continues until he can manually wipe away the ice and water from his eyelids.
Blue eyes. The boy has bright sky blue eyes. They aren’t the Krytonian blue, but they were still familiar.
He blinks and squints and looks around, breathing picking up at the people surrounding him and the unfamiliar environment. M’gann, sensing his distress, kneels down and sets a warm hand on his leg.
“It’s okay. No one here will hurt you. You’re safe now.”
He doesn’t relax, but he seems to at least understand her. He studies their uniforms and then her face before his eyes flick to something behind her and they widen. His breath stutters in his chest, making him wheeze out on the exhale.
They look behind the green skinned girl to see the smaller pod still holding the little girl, no change in her status.
The boy reaches out a shaky hand toward it, scraping against the cold concrete in his lack of energy to lift it.
“She’s okay too.”
He opens his mouth to speak, licks his lips, tries again.
“-ou-,” he rasps. His breath hitches and he’s coughing again. They help him onto his side.
“You want us to get her out?” Red Robin interprets.
The boy squints through the tears from the lack of oxygen at the hero. His expression is scrunched in discomfort and worry. As enthusiastic as he can manage, the boy nods.
“Okay, we can do that. You just have to wait, she needs to thaw out, just like what we did with you,” Red Robin explains to the boy.
He nods again in understanding, his eyes glued back to the girl in the pod. He still shivers harshly and his breathing isn’t regular but he’s not panicking and in no shape to attack them, so it seems like they were in the clear with that one.
While the girl is thawing, they get him more comfortable with warm blankets and get him to drink some water for his throat. He still wasn’t moving much except to curl up on his side and breathe on his colorless fingers. Every time he swallowed he cringed like he was drinking acid, so talking was off the table for now.
The boy was fighting sleep by the time the container door slide open. Connor was there and holding her before she could fall like the boy had.
Superboy lays the girl down close to the boy, seeing the pale hand reaching for her. As soon as he backed away the medics were on her to get air in her lungs and warm her body same as they did for the boy.
The boy watches, quietly holding her hand. Siblings it looks like it. Seeing them side by side was startling. They seemed to be clones of each other, one just younger and the opposite gender, but they were the same.
It was concerning as the number of minutes increased and there was no change. She didn’t breathe or move. She looked dead.
“Get the defibrillator,” the medic ordered, urgent.
The boy surprisingly wasn’t panicking, instead he held a hard determination that made some of the heroes curious.
Pushing himself up onto his elbow, he leaned over the girl and started weakly pushing the blankets out of the way. Thinking he was just helping to make the medic’s job easier, M’gann helped until her torso was exposed.
“You need to back away so they-“
She stops when she sees him tug at the girl’s white shirt to get into direct contact with her skin, hand pressed to her chest.
“What are you-?”
He narrows his eyes in concentration.
Red Robin unconsciously takes a step back when the boy’s blue eyes change into a glowing toxic green, illuminating the girl’s face, frost shining in the light. The hand pressed to her chest also starts to glow the same green until it seeps into her skin like she’s absorbing this weird energy. It reminded them of Starfire actually.
The green in his eyes fades as soon as the unknown green energy is lighting up her entire torso just under the skin. He pulls away and looks expectantly at the medic holding the defibrillator. She flinches into moving, setting the machine down and charging it. She’s hesitant to touch the green energy but the boy nods in encouragement, not looking concerned for anything but the girl’s health.
“Clear!”
It takes one shock for the green energy to disperse through her body and cause her to gasp. The girl starts coughing harshly and the boy pulls her to lay on her side facing him. Connor quickly helps the boy to cover her in blankets. The boy goes as far as tucking them around her and taking one of his own blankets to pile on top. He was moving more easily now even if it was sluggish.
M’gann gasps quietly just as the girl starts sobbing, whining when the act of crying hurt her throat. The boy pulls her close, wrapping his arms around her and tucking her under his chin so they could barely see her. They watch as he calmly comforts her until they are both eased into unconsciousness.
Batman give Superman a pointed look as he passes him. Clark doesn’t respond.
“Get them to the Watchtower med bay,” he orders.
It’s Superman who picks up the pile of two children tangled together and wrapped in layers of fabric, nearly throwing them at how light they both weighted. The three younger heroes follow behind, Tim mumbling about “Lazarus pits” and “Jason”, M’gann twisting her fingers in anxiety, and Connor keeping a close eye on the two kids being carried by his original.
It’s unsurprising that it’s Connor who volunteers to say with them when they are settled down in the med bay, still clinging to each other in sleep.
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knowyourplace-fool · 6 months
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Bully gojo and shy oc !! Who always torments you and humiliates you. Makes you do all his works and you do out of fear. You don't question him and feels smug . He tells how he hates you( but actually he likes her a lot but he doesn't confess because ypu keep rejecting every guy so he thinks you don't accept him either) and tells you that you are just a burden on this earth but then you get into an accident and don't come to scl for a week. Gojo doesn't know what happened to you and can't find out cuz you don't have frnds either. After a week you come to schl with a bandage to your head and a fracture sling on your arm. He gets worried and clings onto you and tou lash out for the first time telling him that he got what he wanted and he could be happy now. He gets angry and kidnaps you and fucks you🙃
-> omfg YES! gojo is such a bully
-> sorry for any mistakes!
⚠️: NON CON, Kidnapping, Mean!Gojo, physically, mental and emotional abuse, manhandling, bullying, biting, groping, size difference
-> THIS IS REALLY DARK AND FUCKED UP PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK !
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All you’ve ever done is mind your own business
Sure, you don’t have many friends but that doesn’t really bother you
You enjoy being independent. Your grades are high in the air, your part time job in your school is more than enough for you to live comfortably. (In this universe, inflation doesn’t exist)
You don’t really talk to anyone, not even family. Whole bunch of drama happened, and they were toxic so you ended up leaving them for university.
Everything seemed to be going as planned until a 6’4 menace walked into your life.
Gojo Satoru was your typical frat boy and the star of the university’s basketball team.
Some may even say the Golden Boy of your university. He was smart, athletic, had a good reputation among the professors and just with people in general. Not to mention, he was ridiculously handsome. Man literally had girls fighting over him.
You’ve seen him in the hallways but never actually interacted with him. He was in a few of your classes but luckily, you guys never were put together in a group.
Until today. Your prof is running a lab and gathered the smartest students he knows to do it for him. It’s kind of a two in one for him, the lab gets complete and you guys gain some experience.
Anyways, the group consists of you, Satoru and his friend Suguru and some other nerdy people
Now unlike Gojo, you already sorta knew Geto. He was really friendly and kind towards you so you were kind of excited to be working with him.
A few days into the lab and Gojo has a sudden fixation with you. Well he always had, but this lab is letting him work closely with you and it’s making his obsession worse.
You’re stupid if you think that Gojo Satoru hasn’t kept on eye out for you. Every time you walk by him in the halls, he gets a hard on just by catching a whiff of you. The cute skirts and the pastel closet you have drives him over the fucking edge.
It takes every cell in his body to resist the urge of grabbing ur wrist, pulling u into the janitors closet and fucking you absolutely dumb and stupid.
You look so cute and innocent, like a little bunny. And god, you are just an easy target to corrupt.
So, Gojo plans a party. A party on the following Saturday after your lab is complete because he knows that you’ll be free.
His plan is to get you to come, keep you company, get you a little hammered, then get a feel of your pussy. Simple plan.
It’s now up to Geto to get you to come to this party. And of course, for his best friend, he’s 100% on board with his plan.
All goes well in the lab and in your final days of completing the report, Geto asked the big question.
“Satoru and I are throwing a party tomorrow. If you’re free, we’d love for you to come. You can bring anyone you want.”
You blush. Party? Your first party? Your brain breaks out in celebration because as much as you liked to spend your weekend relaxing, you also have a severe case of fomo. (Fear of missing out)
Your eyes lit up, saying yes on the spot in excitement. The following day, you went back to your dorm and tore your closet apart, looking for a nice dress. You settled for a blue, body con, summer dress. (despite it not being a party dress but who gives af bc it’s summer)
The next night, you got all dolled up for the party. You made arrangements with Geto to pick you up. He made it on time, looking handsome in his all black fit with his hair in a bun.
You were excited… for nothing.
There was a party (a lit one), but you realized a little too late that your social skills were next to non existent. The whole time, you felt out of place. So you stood in the corner, drink in hand and watched others dance and interact with each other.
“You don’t look like you’re having fun.”
You turn your head only to be faced with a bright blue eyed man, the one and only Gojo Satoru.
“I guess partying is not my thing.”
“Oh come on, come with me.”
He grabbed your hand and headed towards the beer pong table
You and Gojo were a team and surprisingly you two worked perfectly together
The alcohol in your system made you flush, and you found yourself loosening up a bit and having a bit of fun.
Gojo’s plan seemingly was rolling out perfectly. You were a bit drunk, so he took you back to his room to “sober up” (but it was just an excuse to get u alone so he can fuck u but u don’t know that)
Now listen, Gojo got rizz alright. So imagine the look on his face when he went in to kiss you and you slapped him so hard, his face turned the other way.
“I’m not some whore you can use for tonight. I was genuinely having a good time with you, I don’t know why you had to make it sexual.”
You felt like crying. Is this what all guys think about?? Sex?
You get off the bed and head towards the door before you’re pulled back and thrown on the bed
“Satoru, stop! I want to go home.”
And just like how you did with him, he slapped you. Much, much harder.
He didn’t say anything, he just had this look in his eyes that could honestly kill. He took a hold of your wrist with one hand and let his other roam and touch your body.
He pulled your dress up, revealing the lacy, white, underwear you wore. You were a teensy bit wet, not because of him but maybe the alcohol? Or his best friend?
You don’t know, but Gojo thought the wet spot was because of him.
“Tch, saying you don’t wanna hook up but you’re fucking wet f’me.”
He pulled you closer to the head board, reaching out to his night stand and pulling out,,,, cuffs?
“Wait wait wait wait!” You say in a panic. You squirm to get your wrist free but once you feel the metal snake around your wrists and the click afterwards, you were doomed.
Your dress was ripped off by him. Your panty was somewhere on the ground and he easily took off your bra by doing the same thing he did with your dress. You laid nude under him, against your will.
As you can imagine, the night went terribly for you. You weren’t a virgin but it had been a while since you had sex (all the way back in high school) and really it was your first time with someone so experienced.
The next morning, you woke up with him cuddling you from behind while his lanky legs were intertwined with yours
You somehow managed to escape his grip and sneak out of the house before anyone could notice. You did have work, but decided to call in because of… well for obvious reasons.
On Monday, you dreaded to go to school. But with midterms coming around the corner, you couldn’t afford to miss a lecture. You dressed in baggy clothes and took a different route to class to avoid Satoru.
The day was going alright until you had to go to the library to pick out a few books to help you on an assignment.
While you were reaching on your tippy toes, someone behind you grabbed the book which made you quickly turn around. Your eyes meet his bright, blue eyes.
“You’re avoiding me now?”
The anger that overcame you in that moment was indescribable. You wanted to scream at him, hit him, threaten him or somehow bring him down, but you couldn’t.
“Did I fuck you mute? Answer me.”
You took a deep breath in and said, “leave me alone”
“Why? What, you think you’re too good for me? That I don’t have enough worth to fuck you? Is that what it is?”
He grabbed your cheeks with one hand and squished them together, pushing you back against the bookshelf in the process. He was holding you so hard, you couldn’t move.
“Listen to me, you slut. Don’t get our roles mixed here. You’re literally a piece of shit next to me. You hold no value in this world. If you died, no one would even think twice about it because no one gives a flying fuck about you. You think you’re soooo fucking special or something. You think you’re too good for everyone. Well you’re not. You’re just a broke whore, with no friends, no family, no hobby— nothing.”
He roughly let’s go of your face that you nearly fall to the floor. You tried your best but couldn’t help but cry at his words. Gojo swings off his backpack, grabs a note package and hands it to you.
“This assignment is due tomorrow at noon. I haven’t gotten the chance to start it because of basketball. So you’re going to do it for me cause you’re a worthless, bunny that has nothing else to do after school hours. And before you think about handing in something stupid, take a look at this.”
He pulls out his phone and in a matter of 10 seconds, you felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach.
A video. Of you. Getting fucked by the Gojo Satoru. It’s evident that you’re crying but it’s easy to cover it up with an “excuse”. Your face held a horrified expression.
“P-please, delete that! Please, I’ll do it but please just- just delete the video please!”
“No, not until that assignment is handed in and I have to get 100% on it. If it isn’t handed in or I don’t receive 100%, this will be leaked to everyone in a matter of minutes. I’ll post this shit everywhere with your full name on it, got it?”
You felt like crying and throwing up at the same time. This felt worse than a nightmare. This felt worse than dying even. “Okay, I’ll try my best but I don’t know if I can get-”
“If you don’t get 100 on this assignment, I’m leaking it. I don’t give a shit. I already showed Suguru— sick bastard got off to it, and I’m sure many more will too if you don’t score 100.”
He picks up his backpack and leaves while you stood in distraught. The following night, after work, you immediately started on his assignment. You saw the assignment date and it was assigned 3 weeks ago. He wants you to do 3 weeks of work in 15 hours.
Somehow, you pulled through the night. Researching the best you can on the internet and trying to make it as best as you possibly could. You were able to send him the file at 11:30am so he could skim through it and hand it in.
You ended up leaving early for the day so you could go home and get some sleep. When you woke up the next morning, your nearly dead phone kept ringing over and over.
You pick it up and see hundreds of notifications on various social media’s and a few iMessages
Your thumb clicked on one of the iMessage notifications and there was Satoru’s name with the following message:
“I told you, only 100%”
Below the message was an image of his mark
A 98%
You swipe off of iMessage and open Instagram and boom
Hundreds of new follower requests, numerous dms and clicking of Gojo Satoru’s story, was the video of him blowing your back.
You checked Snapchat and there it was on his story too. You wanted to die. You wanted to dig a hole and bury yourself alive than live another day in this situation.
Later that day, you had received an email from the dean’s office regarding a “very sensitive and confidential” meeting that would be taking place tomorrow.
You had an idea of what it might be about but hope and prayed to god that it wasn’t what you were thinking.
But to your luck, this meeting was regarding your sex tape and how there is no longer a spot for you on the dean’s list or team.
Your whole world was crumbling apart. You spent your whole life to get to where you are today, only for him to ruin it in a matter of 12 hours.
You left the building slowly, still deeply thinking about what you could’ve done to prevent this. How stupid you are to go to that party and slap the Gojo Satoru.
“Why is this happening to me?”
All of a sudden, everything goes black.
You wake up in a hospital. Your head felt heavy and your arms was twitching. You look around and see… no one. The nurse catches a glimpse of your eyes and quickly walks in to check on you.
She explains that you were in an accident and that they tried to get in contact with an emergency contact but you hadn’t stated anyone. You stayed at the hospital overnight so they can monitor your brain activity and fortunately they were able to discharge you the next morning.
You took the rest of the week off from school and Gojo Satoru was losing his mind. He had spammed called you from various numbers but you weren’t answering your phone at all. He went from his usual mean insults to angry insults to pleading for a response back.
He doesn’t see you until Monday, with a bandage around your head and your arm in a cast which is also in a sling. He nearly runs to you, wanting nothing but to embrace you.
And he does. Holds onto you tightly, inhaling your shampoo until you knee his in the balls.
He immediately drops down and you completely lose your cool. “Don’t fucking touch me! I hate you! You ruined my life! You’re not allowed to touch me after you forced me to have sex with you and shared the video with the entire campus! You got what you wanted Satoru! You stole everything from me! Broke my entire world, burned my hard work down! Made me feel worthless! And now you want to act all concerned?! I hope you rot in hell!”
You ended up going home for the day, otherwise another headache would’ve set in. You took a quick lap before getting up and getting ready for work because those hospital bills weren’t going to pay themselves.
You had the closing shift and although working with one hand was quite the challenge, you desperately needed the money.
After closing up, the walk to your apartment is about 10 minutes away. Everything was going fine until a car quickly pulled up next to you, two men sprung out and shoved you into the car before you even had the chance to react.
One of them had his hand over your mouth while the other held your legs together.
You were blindfolded and tied in the car and after a while the car came to a stop and you were carried out.
You were thrown on the floor and when the blindfold was removed, you were met with his eyes again.
You immediately started crying. You were afraid and quite frankly exhausted of everything that’s happened over the last week.
“Please. I’m sorry. Just let me go. I’ll never ever bother you again. I’m sorry.”
You plead and beg but you hear his belt unbuckling. “Please! Please, I beg you Satoru! I’m sorry! I can’t- I can’t do it again please!”
You were left unheard. He threw you on the bed and tied your limbs to the bed. One of your arms was already in extreme pain and the other arm was starting to hurt too because of how tightly he tied you.
Every ounce of hope drained from your body when you felt his cock push into you. He pushed your head into the mattress and fucked you hard, like there was no tomorrow. Your tears soaked the mattress. Sweat, tears and snot covering your puffing face.
Satoru went on for hours. Abs glistening in sweat, his arm veins popping out because of how hard he was holding you. Not to mention his cock was coated with loads of cum.
You were passed out by the time he finished with you. Your body shaking on its on, cum dripping out your cunt and marks/bruises left all over your soft skin.
Hopefully his bunny learned her lesson.
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goldenhypen · 8 months
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。⋅✴︎。⚬⋅ WHAT ARE WE?
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syn. the way you and riki act as best friends has everyone questioning what you two really are.
riki x reader ⋅ fluff + best friends acting not so platonically? ⋅ 0.6k ⋅ 100% based off a dream i had recently- enjoy! :’>
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laughter. riki’s favourite sound. and not just any laughter. your laughter.
with your eyes half shut, head swung back and tummy hurting in pure bliss, sounds of joy left your lips, all because of something silly riki had said that you already barely remember. you don’t even know why you found it funny, but perhaps that’s a quality that ran in your close friendship with riki: any crazy, ridiculous thing your best friend would do or say could so easily elicit laughter from you. he likes to call it a talent, and you just roll your eyes at the thought.
you and riki weren’t the only ones at the table. on the other side of you was jake, and sitting across was sunoo and jungwon as you all shared a nice, warm meal together that jake had ordered earlier. and there you five sat on their empty practice room floor after a long day.
a satisfied sigh finally left your lips once you recovered and got control of your breathing again. realizing you were full, you turned to your side and faced riki with a grin. he looked at you through the sides of his eyes but didn’t question your motives. and before he knew it, his body was being pushed away slightly as you adjusted the position of his legs that were once crossed, now spread apart.
already knowing what you wanted, he opened up his arms for you, and you sat yourself right in front of him, back facing his body, and you leaned against him, letting your weight fall onto his.
his arms wrapped around and encapsulated you before you brought yours out from under his, your hands easily finding their way to his wrists.
“you better not fall asleep,” he said quietly beside your ear, almost sending a rush down your spine. his tone was as though he was offering you some sort of deal, that if he were to let you do this with him, the only condition would be that you don’t fall asleep.
and so you nodded but decided to be a little rebellious, closing your eyes anyway, despite it being against what he had told you.
the few minutes that went by weren’t enough for you to fall asleep yet, and suddenly you heard sunoo and jungwon giggling across from you. you were still fully conscious, just unable to see behind your eyelids, and you could hear as they snapped a picture of you because someone forgot to turn their phone’s sound off. you only continued to pretend to be asleep as you heard and felt riki chuckle against you as he found you cute and funny.
however, you lulled into such a relaxed state that you eventually did fall into a nice–though short–slumber, content in riki’s arms.
the way he brushed your hair from your eyes, and the way he watched you adoringly went unnoticed by you who was asleep in his arms, and is something you’ll never be aware of… that is until you see all the pictures and videos sunoo took but were not long lived as his giggles were a dead giveaway and had riki stopping him (not only because he was embarrassed but also because he didn’t want anyone to wake you).
just know that riki adores you–and he’ll never let this reach your ears, but… he wishes that you’d use him like this more often.
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A/N. had a dream that was exactly like this and so i decided to write it for y’all to experience it too :’> idk why it was riki and NOT JAKE THO???? but i think it turned out pretty cute so :D hope you enjoyed! letting me know you did would mean a lot to me <3 thanks for reading!
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