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arminsumi · 6 months

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THE SPRING I MET YOU

GOJO さとる

He hates spring because of "allergies"; he blames his sniffly nose and red eyes on the season.

Warnings : angst (heartbreak)

Playme : First Love/Late Spring

SPRING 2006

You had met Gojo Satoru through a common friend — Geto Suguru.

Oh how many times had you heard him say, like a broken record;

"You really have to meet this guy, you're gonna click with him I just know it. You're like the same person."

You're like the same person.

Suguru'd nag you to meet Satoru ever since he entered Jujutsu High, because he thought he was... you know, just the kinda guy you'd fall in love with. And he hated to see you moping around, lonely and hopelessly seeking a lover that was certainly not "coming to you on a summer breeze" like your mother insisted.

So you met Satoru, by Suguru's demand.

And your first impression of him was: oh no; he's an idiot.

A loud-mouthed, obnoxious idiot. Inappropriate. Overconfident. Irresponsible.

And his first impression of you was: eh, she's too shy.

A put-together, attractive woman. Too proper. Too shy. Too responsible.

If you and him were words, then you were antonyms to each other.

But that didn't matter, it was just the peripheral view you had of each other; something still drew you into each other. Like the universe was drawing up a constellation especially for you and him.

What did you have in common? Nothing. What did you like about his personality? Nothing. But Satoru was always nobody but himself and you liked that. That's the thing about him that saved you from viewing him as an unworthy madman.

And you? He thought you were always trying too hard to be somebody else, someone you were not, someone you could never be — and he wanted to change that. To see what was beneath the diffidence, beneath the plastic sheet that you covered over the image of your self.

He wanted to provoke you more than anyone else, not for the purpose of eliciting a cheap reaction and feeling fleeting amusement, but because he wanted to get you out of your shell.

His heart was on his sleeve, and yours was wrapped up in winter layers even though it was a warm spring. Satoru peeled off the layers one by one, until finally he found his gold; your sweet, tender, loving heart. And once he found it he grabbed it in a way that showed he intended for no one else to steal it from him; his love, all his.

It was just beautiful from then on. You and him. Satoru and you. The two stars in the constellation that the universe specifically designed just for you and him. Only you and him.

How did the first date happen? It just happened. How did the first kiss happen? It just happened. How did the first slow dance happen? It just happened. How did the boyfriend girlfriend thing happen? It just happened.

Everything between you and him always just happened. Like Tetris blocks falling perfectly into place. Like puzzle pieces perfectly connecting. Like clockwork.

No friction, no tediousness, no miscommunication between your stars. You and him shared your minds, bodies and souls with each other.

Like you were the same person.

SPRING 2009

Satoru's face trembled and nose reddened as tiny tears rolled out of his eyes.

This was the first time he had cried in three years. And it was a first for having an emotional breakdown in public, in the middle of a busy train station.

"Satoru, I'm sorry." you said to him. "I have to start my life."

"But we've already started a life here, together!" he yelled with a broken voice, in the middle of that busy train station. People looked.

It was Spring of 2009; you were breaking up with a 20 yr old Gojo Satoru as sensibly and sensitively as you could, but he still acted like a child.

When you and him had gotten together in 2006, both of you were just simple-minded, carefree teenagers who had yet to be shaped by the hurt of life.

Oh him and his prismatic feelings, they spill out the edge at the right angle and show a display of everything you never thought he felt.

"Things have changed. I've changed, and so have you. We have to move on from each other." you said, and he shook his head and looked at you like he was falling to pieces.

"I haven't changed! I'm still your boy. C-can't we talk about this at the cafe—

"—Satoru, my train is here."

SPRING 2018

"—Sensei, the train is here!"

He was interrupted back then just like he's been interrupted now from his daydream of you.

"What's the matter?"

Gojo-sensei's blindfold soaks up his tears, but it can't muffle his sniffling or reddened cheeks and ears. His nose wrinkles up and wiggles to the side as he sniffles and runs the back of his hand under his nostrils.

"Allergies. This is why I hate spring." he chuckles.

"Aw, get allergy medicine."

"Yeah yeah, I will. You rascals catch your train before it runs off without you." Gojo

「じゃあ！」 Yuji raises a hand of goodbye to his teacher and boards the train with Megumi and Nobara.

He waves goodbye to his students, lifting his blindfold to catch a peek before the train carries them out of sight. His smile drops when they can no longer see him at all.

He stares for a long moment at the place where you once stood, and remembers two memories;

One late spring you were on your tip-toes kisssing him for the first time.

And one late spring you were waiting for your train, breaking his heart with goodbye.

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

#tw: angst #angst #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo angst #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x fem reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x fem reader #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n

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sttm99 · 7 months

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CW...? majorly fluff, suggestive scenes.

The first time Bakugo sees you, he's having a random ass conversation with Kirishima, some students from the other classes walking in and out to collect test scores or something from Aizawa, and the you walk in, and he catches sight of you in his peripheral.

You're hot, he thinks. So much so that he's tuning out Kirishima, and his eyes are following you as you walk to Aizawa's table, your friend next to you, almost blocking his view of you, but he manages to catch the jiggle of your thighs, the lift of your skirt.

It makes him slightly feral.

He doesn't even know you, but he's so focused on the purse of your lips as you look at your score.

Then Kirishima's snapping his fingers infront of his face and he's jolting in his seat because of it.

"Dude? You've been staring at that girl since she walked in." Kirishima says, almost in awe that someone had managed to grab Bakugo's attention, much less someone from another class, because the angry blonde thought everyone not in the Hero course was a boring extra.

So this came as a shock, and Kirishima expected to be met with loud yells of negativity. But that's not what happens.

Nope.

Bakugo's looking back at you as you walk away. "Who is she?" He whispers to Kiri.

And Kiri shrugs, "I don't know." There's a pause as he tries to internalise everything that just happened. "You like her?"

"She's pretty," Bakugo says, cause he doesn't know if he likes you likes you yet.

But he wants to talk to you.

Then Kiri's calling Mina over, and though Bakugo wants to be against it, not wanting her to know about his interest, he knows she's his best bet at finding out who you are.

"The girl that just walked in? Which one? There were two." Mina says, bending forward over Kirishima's table.

And then Bakugo goes into a mini rant about your appearance to Mina, describing your hair and your facial features, and she's kind of shocked that he managed to get the color of your eyes from where he was sitting.

"YN? That's YN." She says slowly. "You like her?" She asks like it's some crazy phenomenon.

Cause it kind of is. Bakugo? Crushing?

He nods slowly, thinking. "I wanna talk to her."

Mins purses her lips for a moment, thinking it through. "I know some of her friends. I'll get them to talk to her. She's a bit... shy. So it'd probably be best if we prepared her a bit. You're kind of intense, Bakugo."

And he understood that a bit, though that didn't stop him from glaring daggers at Mina and Kirishima. But he relents, allowing her get your friends to butter you up a bit.

It's basically just them asking you if you'd be into meeting someone... in the romantic sense. And asking about what you like, and what you find attractive.

Near the end of the week, Kiri and Mina show up at Bakugo's table with little smiles. "You wanna talk to her?" Mina asked with a wiggle of her brows. "You can today, at lunch. Talked to her friends about it."

And Bakugo nods, a tiny bit of enthusiasm seeped into the movement of his head. And before he knows it, the bell for lunch is ringing, and he's hastily packing his things cause he really does want to talk to you.

He sees you sitting alone in the cafeteria, tray of food before you, but your attention on your phone in your hand.

"She knows someone is meeting her, but she doesn't know who." Kiri says, pointing in your direction.

Bakugo rolls his eyes at it. It was basically them setting up a blind date for both of you. He doesn't exactly mind though, cause he gets to talk to you at least.

He makes his way over to your table, dropping his bag on it and taking the seat right opposite yours.

"Hi," comes his raspy, deep voice.

You look up at him, and he thinks you're even prettier up close. You smiled a bit, kind of nervous. He understands. His presence is not always very comforting or approachable.

"Hey," you reply softly, and he likes the sound of your voice.

Turns out you're kind of cool. He likes that. He doesn't have many hobbies in common with you, but you two have similar tastes; in movies, books, music.

But more importantly, he likes talking to you. He likes hearing you speak, cause he likes your voice, and your opinions, and the way you articulate your thoughts is cool.

He likes you.

You both exchange numbers, and begin to talk a bit more, having lunch together and even walking around the school together some times.

Of course people talk. Bakugo Katsuki. The walking cannon that had to be chained to the podium during his first sports festival, was seen walking to the cafeteria with a girl from the general studies/support/management course?

Not just that. Eating together, studying at the library.

You don't mind though. You're quick to defend him too, saying he's really calm, and he's smart, plus he's handsome, so that's a bonus. He's a little rough around the edges, a bit brash and loud, and very aggressive. But it's fine. It's cute. You find that you like those things about him.

You know he likes you though.

You've known for a while, a long while. He doesn't hide it at all. And you know he's trying to win you over. He's not just trying to be your friend. It's obvious in how he stares away guys that flock around you, always looking for excuses to walk you wherever it is you're going, and takes you out a lot. To movies, restaurants.

He's possessive a bit. When you go for parties, and even though you don't go together, he finds you either way, sits you right next to him or on his lap if he feels you're cool with it. Has his hands on your thighs, or gripping your waist.

You're walking down the school hallway and someone looks at you suggestively? He's glaring them away, walking closer to you, having a hand on your back.

You're Bakugo's girl. You have been for a while, even though you guys haven't put a label on it. And you're waiting for him to do that.

You guys have kissed, many times, some heavy petting at an empty staircase, his hands dancing on your thighs underneath your skirt during lunch. He calls you 'his baby', 'his', and you know damn well neither of you are letting other people kiss or touch you the way you allow each other.

But he's a bit stupid, thinking that you guys had been dating for a while now, since he first kissed you at a carnival he invited you to. It was atop a ferris wheel! He wasn't stupid when he did it! How didn't you know that was him telling you he liked you and wanted to date you?

It's when Kiri and Mina ask why you aren't dating yet, and he says that you guys are, but they say that you don't think so. And you're still waiting for him to ask you out.

Then he's glowering when you both have your weekly hangout at the back of the library. And you ask him what's wrong.

"Did you really not know we were dating this whole time?" He asks, frowning up at you.

"We are?" You ask.

"We are!" He says.

"But you never asked me!"

"I kissed you at the top of the ferris wheel! That's like... the textbook confession!"

"Confession, sure. But not dating."

You're giggling at him, covering your mouth with your hands to control your laugh. And after a while, he's no longer pouting, he's smiling at you, holding your hands softly in his, and asking,

"Will you be my girlfriend? I fucking like you a lot."

And you're grinning and nodding yes, and then he's kissing you stupid, and he's really really happy about it all.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #bakugo fluff

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strangersmunsons · 9 months

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read 'em and weep

you and Eddie meet at the library. he’s smitten.

Contains: Eddie x Reader, bookworm!reader, lovesick!Eddie, reader gives Eddie book recommendations. No mention of reader’s physical appearance, no use of y/n. Warnings: brief mention of loneliness & negligence in Eddie’s childhood. Word Count: ~2.2k it's my hope to make this a little series! i think eddie is def a bookish guy - no lord of the rings quoting, metal head dungeon master hates reading. he would certainly be open to any fantasy/horror recs you had for him! <3

Indiana. 1989.

Hawkins Library sees a lot of action in the summer.

They offer a wide variety of youth programs to keep the local kids busy and the parents sane while school is out. One of the main events is Saturday Story Time, a beloved weekly staple that you have recently been tasked with putting on.

It’s simple. You gather a number of books, usually with a common theme, and then read a select few to the children who had signed up for the day. Most of the kids in attendance are no older than six or so, with some parents even pulling up chairs to the back so they can sit with infants cradled in their arms. The older ones sit criss-cross-applesauce on carpet squares in front of you, their chubby faces alight with giggles as you recount each silly, fantastical story with all the spirit you can muster.

And then there’s always an accompanying arts and crafts project, of course. If you read The Very Hungry Caterpillar then, naturally, you have to make little googly-eyed caterpillars out of popsicle sticks and colorful pom-poms. You don’t make the rules.

If trouble occurs during Story Time, it’s usually in this phase. (Giving paste to toddlers is always a gamble – you never know what they’re gonna do with that.)

And on this particular morning, it’s been chaos from start to finish. A whopping eighteen kids had signed up, and you stretched yourself pretty thin trying to attend to everyone.

One of the babies spit up directly onto the little girl sitting in front of him and his mother. Someone slipped on their carpet square and fell harshly to the floor, earning a bruised elbow that you gently fussed over. You wrangled a pair of twins who fought bitterly over a bottle of Elmer’s glue. There were three individual running-with-scissors-scares and, finally, you spent a good ten minutes soothing one sobbing child with whom there was nothing apparently wrong with, and that you suspected was just in need of a good cry.

So yeah, it was basically pandemonium.

But eventually, to your great relief, things wound down. The audience dispersed, with their handmade goods clutched in sticky fists, and went to peruse the glossy line of picture books you put out for display. Within the next hour or two, everyone traded the cool darkness of the library for buttery sunshine, and all was quiet again. You waved cheerfully to the last parent-child duo as they made their exit, promising them that there’d be a fun activity next weekend too.

You love these storytime sessions, you really do, but sheesh. Sometimes they run you ragged. With the havoc of the morning finally over, and the promise of lunch in your near future, you try to shake off the weariness, and instead take it upon yourself to clean up the disorganized mess someone’s made of the horror section.

You’re going about your work, tongue poking out in concentration as you strain to reach the really high shelves, when you notice someone standing in your peripheral vision. You turn and glance at him, or at least, what you can see of him. He’s half-hidden by the shelf behind you, but you catch sight of brown hair and denim.

A pale face appears on a craned neck from around the corner. His dark eyes meet yours, widen slightly when he sees that you’ve caught him lurking, and he abruptly disappears again.

You purse your lips to hide your smile. This isn’t uncommon; such moments often occur when you’re cleaning up a section of books someone is hoping to sift through. In a small act of kindness, you move over to the neighboring shelf and look for something to busy yourself with; trying to give the guy a chance to browse without having to ask you to step aside.

He doesn’t emerge. You wait, expecting to sense him passing by you, but no dice. It’s amusing to think that someone might be frightened to approach you (You? Really?) but you can’t help feeling sorry that you were in his way.

The rest of your shift is rather uneventful. At the end of the day, you punch out and head home, the stranger behind the shelf forgotten.

When you come back to work on Monday, it’s much quieter than the last morning you’d been in. You greet your coworkers and set up shop at the front desk, opening up a book of your own to pass the time until someone needed assistance.

You’ve been reading for about half an hour when the big double doors open up for the day’s first visitor, the sound echoing loudly in the silent, spacious room. You look up in interest, ready to greet the person with a warm smile.

“Good morning!” you softly call out as he comes into view. He walks slowly towards you, shoes scuffing the checkered tile with each step. As he comes nearer, you can see that he’s biting his lip, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, the gesture oozing self-consciousness. He only makes eye contact with you for a second before his gaze flits away again.

He’s pretty conspicuous-looking to be approaching the desk with such hesitance, you think. He has dark hair that hangs in slightly-scraggly curls down to his chest, and huge dark eyes. The pale skin of his arms, sticking out from within a denim vest/Judas Priest t-shirt combo, are littered with tattoos.

He pauses a few feet away from you, like he’s debating whether he wants to stop and chat, or to simply veer off towards the bookshelves and start browsing. Ultimately he decides to shuffle forward, closing the distance between the two of you.

“Hi there. What can I do for you?” you ask, voice gentle but encouraging.

He looks down and rests a hand on the desk, absentmindedly tracing the wood pattern with his thumb. “Um, yes.” He doesn’t offer anything else.

There’s a pregnant pause, both of you digesting the fact that what you had asked was not a yes or no question.

He tries again. “I…am in need…of some new reading material.”

You nod gravely, expression serious. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. Did you have anything specific in mind?”

He begins to rock lightly back and forth on his feet, contemplating. “I like fantasy, especially Tolkien. I read a lot of horror, too, and sometimes sci-fi. If you had any suggestions for me, that’d be great.”

“Oh, we can certainly find you something,” you reassure him, already flipping through a mental rolodex of your favorite books in those genres. “Here, come with me.”

You stand and move around the desk to meet him, beckoning for him to follow.

Eddie watches you run a delicate hand over the spines of the books, keenly aware of the clammy sweat that’s flooding his own palms. Be cool, Munson.

“So,” you begin, a gleam of excitement in your eyes, “you like fantasy. Do you read Le Guin?”

Eddie nods eagerly, hair bouncing slightly with the movement. “Oh yeah, I’ve read the Earthsea trilogy.”

“Have you read any of The Hainish Cycle books?”

“I haven’t read those ones, no.”

You pull out two slim paperbacks from the row, holding each one out for him so he can study the covers. “These ones are science fiction, and they’re pretty good. You might like Rocannon’s World since it’s similar to a fantasy novel, but personally I think Left Hand of Darkness is the best.” You suddenly pause, and look around furtively, like you were checking to make sure that you two are really alone. You even put a hand up to the side of your mouth, as though shielding the conversation from eavesdroppers.

“Honestly,” you lower your voice like you’re admitting something scandalous, “I even liked it better than Earthsea.”

“No!” Eddie immediately matches your whispered, gossipy tone and lets his jaw drop, pretending to be aghast.

“Yes!” you insist, seemingly delighted by his willingness to play along. Eddie’s heart soars.

“I guess I can’t refute that until I read it, huh? What’s it about?” he asked, taking it from your hand.

“An envoy is visiting this frozen alien planet, and he’s trying to convince them to join this intergalactic coalition that he represents, but they’re making it like, really difficult for him. Also, gender doesn’t exist, and there’s political turmoil stemming from border disputes.”

“...oh. Cool.”

The next half-hour passes in this fashion. Your soft, mild demeanor is aglow with enthusiasm as you pull out book after book, giving him an off-the-cuff elevator pitch for each. Eddie can practically feel the cartoon hearts swirling around his head, bright pink and red bubbles that are almost certainly going to appear out of thin air and give him away.

He can’t put his finger on what it is, precisely, that’s pulling him in so deeply, drawing him towards you like a magnet with an opposite pole. Maybe it’s the tender way you talk about each book, the love and care that’s so tangible in your sweet voice, the way you speak about them as though they’re your old friends. Perhaps they are.

It’s not an unfamiliar concept to Eddie. A childhood steeped in loneliness and poverty, instability and dysfunction, neglect from his volatile and unreliable parents…yeah, he gets it. The wanting, the longing, the dire need to escape to someplace that doesn’t exist, some place where things were better and didn’t hurt, a dreamworld that would be kinder to a scrawny little boy with unwashed hair and a mean father.

The closest he ever came to it was when he lost himself between the yellowed and dog-eared pages of the few, precious books he owned.

So he listens to you chatter away with chest-aching tenderness, already thinking that he could listen to you like this for hours and be glad for it.

“You love fantasy, but you’ve never read The Last Unicorn?”

Eddie gives you an apologetic half-shrug, no longer able to keep the goofy, besotted grin from unfurling across his face. “Never got around to it, I guess.”

“It makes me cry. You have to take it,” you tell him with pleading eyes, adding it to the top of the growing pile in his arms before he can refuse. Not that he ever would. How could he, when you look at him like that?

“You cry at this one, really?” He looks curiously at the artwork on the front, an innocent picture of the pale horned creature. “But it’s so unassuming…”

“Don’t be fooled, it’ll get you. Take it,” you repeat.

Eddie shifts the stack of books to cradle it in one arm, so he can raise the other at you in a salute. “Yes, ma’am. And when I’m finished with it, I’ll give you a full report on the emotional damage it caused me.”

This makes you giggle, lips turned up in a gorgeous smile, and Eddie knows he’s a goner.

Back at the front, you resume your previous positions at the desk. Him in front and you behind, this time separated by a short pile of books.

You hold your hand out. “Card, please, sir.” Polite and professional, but with a little sparkle in your eye that lets Eddie hope for a moment that his time with you this morning was more pleasure than business.

He fumbles with his wallet, slipping out his library card and slotting it between his index and middle fingers, extending it for you to take. His chunky silver rings catch the light.

You accept the offering. “Thank you” – you quickly read the messy signature at the bottom – “Edward.” You look back at him with a grin.

He cringes, face scrunching in embarrassment. “Oh God. Call me Eddie, please.”

The scanner gives a little chirp! as you begin the checkout process, nodding. “Will do, Eddie.” His name sounds like a song when you say it, one he never wants to stop listening to.

You finish scanning his books, and slide a receipt into the jacket of the novel on top (which just so happens to be Katherine Dunn’s Geek Love). Instead of sliding the stack towards him, you keep both hands clasped on the cover, hesitating. You bite your lip, an unconscious imitation of himself earlier. “Listen….”

Eddie straightens up a little, stomach flipping like a coin. “Yeah?”

You bow your head. “I’m sorry if I talked too much. It’s just – most people who come in don’t actually ask me for recommendations, and I got excited,” you admit quietly, looking sheepish.

“Don’t apologize,” Eddie says without missing a beat. “I appreciate it. I really enjoyed it, actually,” he adds, eager to quell your anxiety. “I liked talking with you.” More than you know.

“O-oh,” you stutter, taken aback. “I liked talking with you, too.”

Eddie nods, smiling slightly. “Would you like to…talk again?” He flushes scarlet and coughs. Smooth. “I just mean, when I finish these” – he motions towards the day’s finds – “we have to discuss them, right? You helped me pick ‘em out, after all.”

“Of course. You have to let me know what you think.”

His smile gets bigger. “So we’ll reconvene?”

“We’ll reconvene,” you chuckle.

“Awesome. Looking forward to it.” He sweeps up his books, and gives you a little wave. “Thanks again, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.”

And he can hardly wait. It looks like he’s got a lot of reading to do…

thanks for reading!!! <3 edit: this is now a series! Read Ch. 2-> Here!

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x bookworm!reader #stranger things fanfiction

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natspookie · 9 months

Text

music to my heart

natasha x shy!fem reader

☆ summary : just reader who likes music, and natasha who likes reader

☆ warning : not proofread & messy ….

natasha was raised to be observant. noticing the details many miss at first glance. her first impression of you was, clearly, shy. but she saw how loud your actions were.

when there were meetings and a question was asked there would be a silence for a moment. she’d see you inhale, about to open your mouth, when someone else answers and you sink back to your chair.

natasha notices the bouncing of your leg when it’s almost your turn to present the mission recap, and the gulp you take before speaking a few quiet words. but she also sees how you straighten your posture, more confident after a while.

but more so, how it’s rare to see you without your earphones. working out, eating breakfast, sitting outside, laying on the bed, there was always those wired earphones connected to your phone.

occasionally natasha could catch a glimpse of the album cover playing on your lock screen.

it was only recently when everyone was gathered in the common room, enjoying free time, when thor returned. you broke your right arm on a mission so you had a cast, unable to move it.

you had left your earphones on the couch while getting a glass of water when thor’s hand accidentally brushed it and a little crackling noise was heard.

natasha turned to the sound and frowned when she saw the white (really a little grey since it’s been used for so long) earphones turn a burnt brown color.

you returned and saw thor examining your earphones. he apologized over and over saying he would get you a new pair as soon as possible, you nodded, muttering a ‘don’t worry’, and took them as you left.

natasha liked that you didn’t say ‘it’s okay’, because you probably wouldn’t have meant it.

natasha decided to check up on you, knocking on your door. she heard a few grunts and things falling but the door opened as you pulled a sweater over your tank top. “hey natasha” you smiled, widening the door with your hand.

“you alright? where are you going?” natasha examined the room “uhh about to get some new earphones” “you’re driving with one hand to the mall” natasha raised a brow “perhaps” you shrugged, putting on your socks.

“i’ll drive you” natasha offered “no! i mean- no..” natasha squint her eyes “.. i don’t want to bother you” “i was bored anyways, see you at the front in 5 minutes” natasha winked and left with no room left to argue.

you laughed quietly before becoming a little nervous. you admired natasha, who didn’t? but you always knew natasha was an observer, you were too. you couldn’t help but feel a little shy as she read you like an open book, that’s what you thought at least.

you met natasha outside as she smirked in her chevrolet corvette stingray. you smiled, hopping inside as you put your seatbelt on.

“so what mall are we going to?” natasha asked “the closest one” you shrugged

it was comfortable silence for awhile until there was a red stop light and natasha fiddled with the screen in the car. she handed her phone to you and you looked at it confused. “play your music, sweetheart” she started the car again as the green light went.

if you were standing you would have fallen to the ground with that nickname. “thanks” you murmured, searching the songs you wanred on her spotify. you smiled already seeing fleetwood mac in her searched.

you played around with it a little, starting off with dreams, then drake’s passionfruit, and some daniel caesar songs. it wasn’t a long ride but natasha could tell you were biased daniel.

she watched from her peripheral as you mouthed the words quietly, gazing (gayzing) out the window.

the walk inside the mall was quiet. natasha insisted she come with you. you bought yourself the normal pair of wired earphones at apple but decided to spoil yourself and get a pair of wireless headphones, just incase.

she didn’t mind staying behind or beside you as you smiled hearing music, testing the different kinds of headphones. you turned around and tapped natasha’s shoulders, she looked at you expectingly as you turned one side of the flexible silver sony headphones to her and she pressed her ear against it. daniel caesar’s “do you like me” flooded her ears

“Is this one good?” you looked at her. she stood up straighter and nodded. “the rose gold one looked cuter on you though” she rasped out while you blushed.

you walked to the counter. you bought the rose gold ones. the ride home all you played was daniel caesar.

you hugged natasha with one arm as a thank you before hurrying to your room, eager to try your new headphones.

natasha wondered if it was a good idea to let you buy them because now, she seemed to talk to you less.

it had been 2 weeks later, arm fully healed when natasha asked you, personally, to assist her on her 3 day long mission. she just wanted to spend more time with you.

you nodded with a small smile and natasha was ecstatic. until she heard you at the kitchen. “hey! i was wondering if you wanted my daniel concert ticket? i don’t think i’ll be able to make it…” natasha saw you fiddling with the blue ticket, her chest tightened. “great! i’ll send over the tickets later, thanks!” natasha made her way to her room, to do research on this concert.

she kept a straight face as the concert was the exact 3 days she had just asked you on a mission for.

natasha would make it up to you.

right after the mission, natasha dropped the team off at the shield headquarters when she flew you both to the next location this daniel caesar was performing. “nat, where are we goin?” you laughed

“surprise” she winked

she asked you to change into your usual clothes and dragged you through the crowd. “oh my god” you saw the banner of the concert “OH MY GOD!” you shrieked as you walked into the theatre “NATASHA! you! i-! what!” you jumbled your words as natasha laughed at your antics, dragging you to good middle upper seats.

“no one has ever done this for me” you admitted, staring into her eyes. people started screaming as your favorite artist entered the stage. you still couldn’t tear your eyes away from natasha.

the song “do you like me” played and you sang quietly the lyrics to natasha ��low on time i’d like to make a move’ you murmured, inching closer to you, as she did. when your lips met, you felt on fire.

“thanks for driving me to the mall that day” you said against her ear, grinning “thanks for being the music to my heart”

a/n, i’m seeing daniel next week and this is how i cope… i’ll never be fine again

#natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romonova

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theemporium · 1 year

Note

hii!! i love ur writing!! could you do 21+23 with remus lupin??🫣🫣

21. “bite me” ”if you insist”

23. “this is a one time thing”

Remus Lupin always considered himself a calm, collected and patient man.

With so much of his life defined by his lycanthrope lifestyle, he liked to think the moments where he was human and himself, he was the opposite of whatever stereotype witches and wizards whispered to their children as they grew up. He never wanted to be the angry, short-fused monster that they always spoke about.

But there was one person who always seemed to bring out that side of him—you.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Why would I deprive you from hearing my lovely voice?”

Remus gritted his teeth together, eyes focused on the open textbook in front of him rather than the irritating witch to his side. He had decided the second Professor Slughorn announced a group project that he wouldn’t let his temper get in the way of his work, but being paired with you was proving to make that promise very difficult.

“Are you always such a brat?” he muttered as he snatched the spoon from you, spinning the potion a little faster until orange bubbles began forming–just as the potion required.

“Are you always such a prick?” you retorted with a huff, arm brushing against his as you leaned over to see what the next ingredient was before popping it into the cauldron. You only had to go through another five minutes of torture with him before you could run back to your common room and avoid him until the class presentation.

“Can’t even admit when you’re wrong,” Remus grumbled.

“Bite me, Lupin,” you snapped.

“If you insist,” he snapped back with a wolfish grin. And you hated the way your eyes lingered on his smile a moment too long.

And you hated that he clearly noticed.

“Enjoying the view, sweetheart?” he asked, the words mocking and cruel, and yet they still made your thighs clench together.

“Wanker,” you stated simply before turning back to the potion, the wall of hair covering your peripheral being the only saving grace at the moment.

But Remus didn’t stop. He made a point of pushing your buttons a little further, getting under your skin a little deeper. He made a point to always have some form of physical touch with you as the five minutes went by silently and he fucking loved the effect he had you.

He loved that he affected you just as badly as you affected him.

“In a rush?” he questioned when he noticed you quickly cleaning up the desk, shoving books into your book bag half-hazardly.

“I have somewhere to be,” you said simply, refusing to even look in his direction.

“I’m sure you do,” Remus drawled.

You quickly spun around, eyes narrowing on the tall boy. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Remus answered with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “Just that you’re a liar.”

“I’m a liar?” you scoffed.

“And you’re annoying.”

“You’re no treat yourself, Lupin.”

“At least I’m not a brat.”

“And at least I’m not a massive arsehole—”

You hadn’t even computed the fact the distance between you had disappeared, not until Remus was close enough to grab your face and pull your lips against his. It took a whole few seconds of your brain fighting with your body before you sank into the kiss, hands fisting the material of his shirt as you pulled him closer, moaning into his mouth as his large hands slid down your body.

“Dickhead,” you whispered between kisses as he lightly nipped your lip.

“You did ask me to bite you,” he mused before kissing you senseless, hands sliding underneath your skirt so he could grab a handful of your ass.

His palms were warm and rough, his lips were soft and plush and you had never felt more fucking confused in your life—but Merlin, that didn’t stop you from wanting Remus Lupin.

“This is a one time thing,” you murmured, eyes falling shut and head rolling back as he ducked down to place a line of kisses along your jaw and neck.

“Fine by me,” he muttered before spinning you around, pushing you until you were bent over the desk and his warm body was pressed against your back. “Maybe this will be a good way to shut you up. A little brat like you just needs the attitude fucked out of you.”

“Just fuck me, Lupin,” you snapped, breath hitching when you felt his fingers sliding along your clothed cunt. A pathetic whine escaped your lips when he pressed his thumb against your clit.

“Gonna beg, sweetheart?” Remus mused, warm breath fanned across your cheek as he watched your hips buck against his hand.

“In your fucking dreams.”

“Keep that mouth going and I’ll make sure all you can dream about is me fucking you.”

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littlebluespoon · 6 months

Text

Stuck (Again) Octo!König Part 2

Here we go, part 2. A bit of a darker but still as adorable König. This ended up three times the length of part 1 and I'm considering a part 3 if y'all want it :)

Part 1 - Stuck Part 3 - Unstuck Part 4 - Stranded

On the journey back to base you noticed that König was still bleeding, while it was slower than in his human form it was soaking through your shirt. At some point you were going to have to treat him but you had no experience in aquatic shifters and seeing as it wasn’t in his file, you doubted the Kortac medics knew more than you. Of course, priority number one was to get him unattached from you,

“König, you’re still bleeding. You gotta let go so I can figure out how bad it is.” Gently you try to pry his tentacles off but every time you get one and move onto the next he just re-attaches it,

“König! You need to let go now!” you resort to scolding and annoying him in the hope that something will work, “You need medical attention you stubborn ass, let go or shift back.” Emphasising each word with a poke to his face.

A staring contest with an octopus was not on your to-do list for today. But for the last hour it’s the only thing you’ve accomplished. Everyone else has been seen to, all patched up and every joke about your new accessory ignored, even the paperwork has been finished. You needed a plan and you needed to know more about octopuses.

Firing up everyone’s best research tool, Google, you delve into the world of an octopus. Learning that their tentacles are actually arms and that they taste with them; that they have a beak; three hearts and that they can lose and regrow their arms. The last fact seemed the most important to you, it meant you didn’t have to be gentle in pulling him off you. But first you tried something a little less rough, getting into the shower. Figuring that he had to be feeling a little dried out you opted to get under the water and hoped it would encourage hum to pull off. It took some persistence but after about ten minutes and with some more, slightly rougher prodding, König eventually detached himself from your chest,

“There we go, that wasn’t so hard now was it?” you gently splash some water over him and watch as he rolls around, throwing it all over the place.

After a while of playing and laughing at the small octopus’s antics you made a move to get up as your wet clothes were getting uncomfortable but the movement startled König,

“hey, no, sorry buddy. I didn’t mean to scare you,” you’re reaching forward to pick him up when it happens, “ No, König come back!” he scurries off, faster than you thought he could and by the time you’ve slipped your way through the shower bank, he’s gone.

~~~

In the weeks following on base, you only ever saw König out of your peripheral. Always lingering but with no interaction. And then Kortac were called out. Months went by with no sign of him but every week you learned a little more about him. Taking aquatic hybrid first aid courses, researching more about octopuses and their hybrid types. Learning that they were solitary animals explained a lot for you and it was in your first aid courses that you learned how rare an octopus hybrid is. Most female octopus hybrids die after giving birth, it's something they have in common with the animal counterpart, so they mostly live isolated lives with only other females for company and it’s the males that keep the genetics going by taking a human partner.

The day König returned to your life was a bad day. You slept through your alarm and missed parade, your supply delivery was missing nearly everything you’d ordered, drowning in paperwork meant you missed lunch and to top it all off, it had not stopped raining. So when you heard the shouts outside the infirmary you nearly burst into tears. Instead your door burst open and six men rushed in carrying König. Time froze, you could no nothing but stare at him, at the cuts, burns, the pole sticking out of his arm. The blue blood covering the room in seconds. In reality you were already screaming orders and reaching for your fully stocked aquatic first aid kit. Something that had never been used, something that you had only gotten for him even though he wasn’t your responsibility.

Hours passed; marked by vital checks, medicine doses and dressing changes. Hours passed and König remained unconscious, too exhausted to even trigger his body’s defences and shift into his smaller, more durable form. Hours turned to days. Days that were marked by the cold cups of tea left undrunk, the smell of antiseptic burning its way into your skin, the cold of his hand under yours. You had vowed to not move until you were sure he’d heal. Until he shifted and you could carry him with you.

Eight days passed in this manner. You as quiet as him, only your breathing and the machines made noise in the room. That’s when it happened, the heart rate monitor alarmed, the oxygen meter, everything in the room was going off but all you could do was stare at him. Now dwarfed in the bed was König, seven and a half arms, bright orange, and awake. And trying to run away,

“Oh no you don’t.” You snatch him up from the edge and immediately pull him to your chest, “Not this time buddy, you’re missing half an arm and even if you weren’t you lost so much blood I looked like a smurf!” sensing that he wasn’t getting away, you watched with a fond smile as he squirmed his way under your shirt and returned to his favourite spot.

“Right, now that you’re out of danger and awake lets get some food first. Crab or shrimp?” You asked the little guy, giving him a pet on the head and chuckling as he lets out a series of clicks.

Walking into the mess hall meant you were rushed by every Kortac soldier there,

“Is he okay?” “Can we see him?” “Will he survive?”

While not a very sociable person, König was well respected as a soldier and commander. The lower ranks looked up to him and idolised him.

“He’s fine, he’s doing a lot better but he needs some more monitoring. I’m sure you can all see him soon.” You let them all know that you’ll tell him they were asking and pass on their get well soon messages before heading through to the kitchen and to the freezer at the back which held the specially ordered food for hybrids with dietary requirements.

Dinner was interesting. If anyone was watching you they were going to think they were hallucinating as they watched you drop bits of crab down your top. The few sounds König made were quite, small pops and low whistles that only you could hear and you hoped it meant he was enjoying the food. In between feeding him you fed yourself and eventually it was time for to head back, König needed more medicine and you wanted to check for infections after your little excursion.

“On the bed please, I gotta grab your medicine.” Expectedly holding out your hand for him to climb onto as you pull down your shirt but he doesn’t move, “König, sweetheart, move.” More prodding, more pulling, all id did was leave you with little sucker shaped bruises.

“König, I swear to god I’m not doing this again. Get on the bed. Maybe, if you behave- we can go in the shower again” Bargaining was your last resort, you couldn’t check him over if he was still attached to you.

Slowly you watched as König’s arms moved, one at a time, to pull him up your body. Pulling harder at your skin than he had before to leave marks up your neck before eventually settling on your throat with his arms wrapped around your neck. Your protests were short lived as the second you opened your mouth he squeezed a little tighter, not relaxing until you stopped trying to speak altogether.

Your night continued like this, paperwork was done with the occasional ink drip, talking to patients was done with as few words as possible, bending over wasn’t comfortable and your top ended up soaking anyway as König dumped your wattle bottle over himself and then demanded more with whistles increasing in pitch as you refused. As you signed the last report you tried once more to get him off,

“You’ve had your fun König but I’m tired. I want to go to bed and you need medication so plea-“ your words are cut off by a harsh squeeze that takes your breath away. Louds clicks punctuated by the slapping of tentacles against your skin fill your ears before eventually you’re allowed to breathe again. Taking the hint, you make your way to the shower before bed, promising yourself that tomorrow you’ll find a way to get him unstuck.

~~~

As always, asks and requests are open. Feel free to send me stuff, questions, whatevers 💙

#bluespoonswriting #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfic #konig #könig #könig x reader #könig x you #konig x reader #könig call of duty #konig mw2 #könig mw2 #könig cod #octo!könig #Octo!konig

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xtreklx · 9 months

Text

Bumpin' ~ Raphael x reader

One-shot: bayverse Raphael x reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: SFW, fluff, slightly mature themes (rated 17+, see my masterlist for disclaimer)

A/N: a self-indulging one-shot I thought up for Raphie boy. thanks for reading!

__________

"Y/N, I'm boooooooored."

Michelangelo let out a long, drawn-out sigh and turned to look at you. You were both strewn about the living room of the lair, him on the floor and you on the couch. This time was normally used for your weekly Mortal Kombat sesh, but Donatello had shut off the lair's power to make a repair, so the two of you were forced to find an alternative activity. Which sounded like a simple task, but had since proven the opposite.

You mimicked your friend's long-drawn out sigh with a smirk on your face. "Yeah, I bet Don decided on purpose to do this right now," you replied. "Not that I blame him, we do get pretty loud when we game." You were laying on the couch as you spoke, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone's home screen and hoping that an app or notification would give you some sort of inspiration.

You thought for a moment as Mikey continued his mock sighs, which were rising in both volume and drama, before turning to him with an idea. "Hey Mikey, do you use Spotify to listen to music?" He looked to you again before pulling out his phone. "Yeah, team Spotify all the way! Why?"

You sat up with a new invigoration. "We should create a blended playlist!" You exclaimed, opening the app on your phone. "We can compare our music tastes and see what we have in common, it'll be fun!" Mikey sat up from his spot on the floor and handed you his phone with the Spotify app open. "Hell yeah, girl! I'm always in the mood to bump some tunes! Lemme go get my speaker." And with that, he took off to his room.

You got to work with both of your phones in your hand. When he returned, you hit shuffle on your blended playlist and the music started flowing from the speaker. You moved to sit next to him on the floor.

"When I look at the playlist story, it says we have a 56% music match." "Okaaaaaaay, that's not too bad," Mikey replied. "Where do we match up, dudette?" You tapped the screen again, showing him. "Our number one match is Tyler the Creator. That makes sense, I listen to him a lot!" "No way, me too!" Mikey exclaimed. "He's definitely one of my fave artists."

The two of you began chatting away and singing along to songs as they came up, while unknowingly summoning a third party.

"Poor Don'll never get the quiet time he wants," Raphael spoke, shaking his head as he walked into the living room from the dojo. His gruff voice startled you from behind and your heart rate increased, as it often did around the short-tempered brother. You had had a crush on him for a few months now, but were far too intimidated and nervous to make a move, so it went unaddressed. The turtle in question strolled over and plopped down on the couch, looking down at you both on the floor. "What're you two idiots doing, anyway?"

"We're just bumpin' some tunes, bro!" Mikey called, shaking his head to the beat of the song playing. "We're comparing our music tastes!" You excitedly said. "And actually, we're using a very technical algorithm, so this is in the name of science! Donnie couldn't argue with that," you grinned up to the turtle in red. Raph rolled his eyes but let a small smirk grace his features in return. Dork.

"Alright dollface. Since it's so impressive, show me how it works."

You explained the process to him as Mikey continued to jam to the music playing from his speaker. Raph listened and examined the blended playlist you had created. "Hmm... Y/N, see what ours would look like," he pondered, reaching for his phone. Again, your heart sped up, but you breathed out an "O-okay" and took his phone from him. As you tapped the screen, you ignored Mikey wiggling his brows at you in your peripheral vision, knowing about your feelings toward his brother.

When you finished, you gasped slightly, and turned the screen to Raph. "We're at 84%!!!" you squealed, showing him where your favorite artists intertwined. You scrolled through the playlist to see a mix of heavy metal, grunge, classic rock, R&B and rap. Tyler the Creator was also listed as one of your top matching artists.

"No way," the brute scoffed, leaning towards you so that he could look over your shoulder at your blended playlist. You both pointed out which songs were your favorite and why, and also chatted about the favorite artists you had in common. Your nerves eased as you connected with him, your heart thrumming at the realization that he was being... kind of vulnerable with you. You were getting to see a part of Raph that he had never shown you before.

All of the sudden, the song changed to 'Dogtooth' by Tyler the Creator, and Mikey jumped up, hollering. You gasped with joy, and you both looked to each other with excitement. "I love this song!!!" You both yelled, and then: "JINX!" You laughed hard as Mikey ran from the living room, yelling the lyrics at the top of his lungs, 100% looking to annoy his other older brothers.

As your laughing ceased and you turned back to Raph, you took in a quick breath as you realized how close you two were leaning in before the outburst. You were still on the floor, but had scooted towards his spot on the couch until you were practically leaning on his lap. You could feel his warm breath brush your face, and he got an amused look on his face as he gazed at you.

Your eyes widened naturally with the proximity, and after a moment of silence and staring at each other, you opened your mouth you speak. But before you could, Raph began rapping along to the song playing from Mikey's speaker, a growing smirk on his face and a unique glint in his hazel eyes as he watched you.

"She could ride my face, I don't want nothin' in return. Except for some her time and all her love, that's my concern. I'm tryna buy my neighbor's house..."

The eye contact he was giving you in this moment could only be described one way: heavy. And your face turned beet red. The closeness, his gaze, his smirk, the words- it was all too much for your poor heart to take.

"R-raph, w-what are you doing?"

"I'm just bumpin' some tunes, dollface."

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driaswrld · 6 months

Text

one night only! — gojo satoru and geto suguru.

wc : 2.1k

summary : fem!reader goes to a club with shoko to be free from her scary guard dog besties, satoru and suguru show up anyway, just a bunch of intimacy really. maybe one lil suggestive part w satoru?? mention of wlw shoko and possible insinuation of stoner geto lmao

part of : the star paradox collection.

notes : i headcanon poly satosugu as often toeing the line between platonic love and romantic love bcus these three idiots rlly can't tell the diff sometimes. also shoko is gay and is my gf don't @ me. also this is ooc of how satoru and suguru would be at a club cs lets be fr satoru would be an emotional drunken mess while suguru is in the bathroom smoking or smth

other : im having so many teenage romance thoughts ab poly satosugu. also this was kinda inspired by a poly marauders fic i read agesss ago

current casette : i was never there - the weeknd. me and your mama - childish gambino.

You can feel the bass of the music in your throat, your heartbeat racing to catch up with it.

Parties like these only had one common thread : brainless, brainless fun.

“That one over there,” Shoko murmurs against your ear as discreetly as she can, but just as loud as for you to hear her over the thumping music inside the club. Your gaze moves from the sequin strap across Shoko’s shoulder and over to a girl across the way, a redhead, leaning against the bar and knocking back an expensive looking drink. “She’s pretty.” You turn your head to Shoko’s ear.

Satoru and Suguru have been… hovering these past few weeks.

You love them, truly, the bestest best friends anyone could ask for. But two popular conventionally attractive men by your side at all times? It does put a damper on your love life. Shoko would be able to understand your point of view — if she wasn’t playing for the other team at least.

The redhead looks over her shoulder out at the mass of bodies on the dancefloor, the dark blue dress she has on really accentuates her figure — among other things. “You should go tal–” Before you can finish, Shoko’s mouth is agape, eyes fixed on the girl, and being the wingwoman that you are, you shove her forward a little. “Talk to her.”

“You sure?” Shoko wobbles forward, tipsy but sober enough to take a pretty girl home. The neon lights inside the club flash pink and blue then red and green then pink and—

“I don’t wanna abandon you, name.” You only laugh at Shoko, giving her two firm thumbs up, nudging her forward again, and still, she stands there contemplating. That is, until the redhead turns around and locks eyes with Shoko.

Oh, she’s far gone already.

“Don’t leave my peripheral.” Shoko kisses the side of your cheek and begins to saunter off, just as the song playing in the club changes to a softer, more sensual song.

There’s something about parties. Something that gives you the uneasy feeling two specific people could pop up at any time – two people you’re trying very hard to make clear to that you’re your own woman.

What makes a grown man wanna cry?

You slide back to the spot on the dancefloor you and Shoko shared moments ago, and with a sigh of near relief, you let the music transcend you to a different realm. Your body sways among the masses, a tinge of alcohol probably clouding your judgement because on any other occasion you’d find dancing in public embarrassing—

When it’s time, when it’s time, when it’s time, it won’t matter

There’s a sense of complete euphoria that washes over you, and before you know it, a slender arm snakes around your waist. And despite your better judgement, you know who it is before you look over your shoulder.

It’s an eerily intimate thing, feeling the chill of the six eyes raking over you.

You’re sure Suguru must be the only other person to feel how it feels, the goosebumps that rise on your flesh, hair standing on end. But not in fear. In something else entirely—

“You’re so pretty.” Satoru whispers against the edge of your ear. He doesn’t sound drunk. At the very least he barely sounds tipsy, just a small slur of speech in between, and you look over your shoulder at him.

“Prettier than you?” You stop moving and let out a laugh, and he goes brainless. Crystalline orbs stare down at you, and he pulls your body flush against him, pressing his body into yours from behind.

“Don’t stop,” he mumbles and your body sways, resuming with the rhythm of the blaring music. A whisper of the lyrics leaves his mouth, and you nearly forget how he knows the song — must’ve been in one of Suguru’s playlists. One of those playlists he keeps.

“Satoru—” you’re about to scold him, maybe tell him this is a thin line, one you’ve been toeing for too long.

Satoru brings his other arm around your waist, both his hands meeting in accord atop the flesh of your stomach. He waits for a beat, waits for you to tell him no, but it never comes.

I’m on the edge of something breaking

His head dips to your height, his hair tickles the back of your neck. You can feel the heat from his lips on your skin as he hums along to the lyrics. “Just feel it for a little...” He whispers.

Even in his tipsy but not-so-tipsy state, he knows exactly what he's doing. You think, maybe he’s always known. At least in body but not in mind.

If I keep going I won’t make it

A sigh escapes your lips, something akin to a breath of relief, like a weight lifts off your shoulders.

Satoru’s body grinds forward onto you, and your head tilts back onto his chest, a mouthful of lyrics leaving your mouth in a gasp. “Feels good, yeah?” He grins down at you, pleased, his voice a bit off-key in a more Satoru-like fashion.

“Didn’t know you knew the song,” the words leave your lips as you both lock eyes. He rolls his eyes and sinks his teeth into the exposed flesh of your shoulder playfully.

“Suguru plays it all the time—” He replies, then continues to hum along with the song, his voice barely sounding like his own. “It’s too sexy to not know.”

There’s a sense of comfort in not knowing the depth of what you feel in this moment.

Satoru spins you around to face him, and the breath leaves your lungs. And the moment in between knowing what your relationship is and not knowing all but fades to black.

And with the way he looks into your eyes, and leans forward, you think he just might break the line two.

And it’s all because of you—

The song fades out, to a more upbeat one, and Satoru’s hands fall limp at his sides. Suddenly, you remember how to breathe. And you swallow the lump in your throat, all while he gives you the signature goofy grin you’ve come to cherish.

You turn your head to look across the mini crowd, and Shoko is still there, one arm slung around the redhead as they both knock back shots.

Temporary. It’s no big deal, you and Satoru were just tipsy.

But that sense of relief is short-lived.

Embarrassingly so.

“Boo.” A sharp exhale leaves your lips as soon as you turn your head, and instead of Satoru staring down at you, your view is blocked by Suguru.

You look at him like a lost child, and he rears his head away to laugh at you. “Don’t look so scared, name.” He smirks, slyly, like Suguru always does when he’s taunting.

“You dumbass—” You breathe, a hand colliding with the edge of his shoulder in a soft shove and Satoru can’t help but laugh at the sight before him.

Then, Suguru’s fingers wrap around your wrist, two, then four then he’s tugging you forward, straight into him and Satoru. “Don’t be so mean to me, you’ll break my heart.” He says it so condescendingly, with such a smile that makes your heart leap at your current predicament.

Satoru really wasn’t done. He just brought in reinforcements.

“As if—” You grumble, and the lights dim for a second before flashing a neon purple. And that’s all the time Satoru and Suguru need.

“—I have a heart?” Suguru towers over you, and he bends his knees just a little, resting his chin against your shoulder so you can hear him. “Or as if you could break it?”

You think Suguru’s been smoking. The warmth of his breath against your bare skin makes you shiver a little. You think you feel a little dizzy just from looking at him.

The way his eyes are downcast, eyelids heavy, like he’s bordering on the precipice of eternal sleep or the best dream he’s ever had, one he doesn't want to wake from.

He looks at you like you're the latter rather than the former.

Satoru swings his hand forward, interlocking his fingers with yours, pale slender digits finding purchase between yours as he moves to your side. “As if to both.” He rolls his eyes, and Suguru lets out a soft whistle, “You’re so cold, Satoru.”

The song playing begins to fade out, and Suguru takes advantage of the few seconds before the song switches, that small gap of silence, and he whispers, “Dance with us..?”

“Duh.” You grab ahold of Suguru’s hand with your free one, all while Satoru’s grip on your other hand tightens just a little. “Who else would I dance with?”

These things are no secret, never have been and never will be. And you have a funny feeling you know why your love life remains so stagnant.

How does the old age thing go? Never let your girl have a boy bestfriend. Or worse, two.

The three of you saunter to the middle of the dancefloor, the neon lights flashing shades of blue.

And if you didn’t know better, you’d say whoever the DJ is, they’ve got a sick sense of humor.

Because they manage to play the most romantically erotic song you could ever hear in a club setting. Ironically, a song you recognize from your playlist — no doubt you learned it from one of Suguru’s tracklists. A very extensive one titled with a leaf emoji.

I’m in love when we are smoking that—

Suguru’s arm moves to wrap around your waist from in front, and he tugs you close as the soft tempo reverberates through the room. He shrugs some of his hair off his shoulder, dark eyes finding yours and he doesn’t dare look away for a second.

Suguru must think you're a pipe dream. That you’ll disappear if he blinks.

Your bodies rock from side to side and Satoru doesn’t let go of your hand, instead he slides behind you, following the rhythm you and Suguru have set in tune, raising your intertwined hands to his lips, and for a moment he uses them as a makeshift microphone to sing—

La-la-la-la-la

Suguru grins and he presses his chin atop your head, his other arm coming around to hug you close to his chest, while Satoru meets you both halfway, and it’s really just a sandwich swaying side to side with you in the middle.

I’m in love when we are smoking that—

What initially started off as something so simple, you coming to a club with Shoko wanting to finally get laid since your best friends managed to scare all the guys off — has turned into something so soft, so intimate.

There are never many words, never much explanation when you’re with Satoru and Suguru.

And it’s clear none of the three of you know what this is or where you stand. But for now, that’s okay.

La-la-la-la-la

“You okay?” Suguru dips his head to mumble into your ear, and you nod, words failing you.

In truth, you’ve never felt so soft, so safe yet so… vulnerable. But that’s also okay.

Satoru cranes his neck and leans his body over yours to look between you and Suguru, having not heard a thing. “You two okay?”

And you laugh. Suguru does too.

Suguru’s arms around you keeps you grounded against him, and Satoru’s weight against your back keeps you firm between them. “If you need us to stop… if you need a drink I can—” Suguru tries, but you cut him off with a soft pat to his shoulder.

“Don’t stop,” you mimic Satoru’s words from earlier as your own into Suguru’s chest and he melts. “Yeah?” He whispers.

“Yeah.” You affirm, and he nods, his chin going back to rest atop your head. And you wrap a free arm around Suguru’s middle, the other still softly interlaced with Satoru’s at your side. “M’ happy here.”

“In the club?” Suguru asks, albeit a little louder so you can hear him an amused smile slipping onto his features. “No, just—” Your words fail you. But this, there can’t be any intent without feeling, true unbiased feeling.

And you feel it, coursing through you in soft waves for them.

That unbiased wavy feeling, almost like you’re floating. That feeling for them. Though you don’t quite know what to call it yet.

“Here,” you mumble and a smile stretches onto your face. “With you, and Satoru too.”

Suguru stops swaying a bit, and at the change in movement Satoru stops too, peering over your shoulder to see what’s happening.

But Suguru only grins a little. “I’m happy too,” he says. Then he glances at Satoru, and Satoru glances to you. “I guess if you two are so happy, then me too.” Satoru chuckles.

#★ DRIASWRLD #tsr ⭐️#jujutsu kaisen #satosugu x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #satoru gojo #suguru geto #gojo x geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #satoru x reader #gojo x reader #suguru x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen fic

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mediumgayitalian · 5 days

Text

“Thought you might like this.”

Nico turns the thin plastic casing over in his hands. It catches the limited light from the one open window, refracting a burst of rainbow across the shadowy ceiling.

“What…is it?”

“Mixtape.” Will rocks back on his heels, hands swinging slightly at his sides. He hums idly, flicking his gaze across the room faster than Nico can track. Distracted. “Songs ‘n stuff.”

Contrary to popular belief, Nico knows what a mixtape is. CDs as well, for that matter. In fact he distinctly remembers when they came out — the transition from cassette to CD was a triumphant one. Way easier for him to save his game processes and transfer to new machines as they came. (He wonders, idly, what happened to his stack of CDs left at the Lotus. Are they still there, standing alone in his half of the room? Next to his dresser, across from Bianca’s coin and token collection? Is there enough dust in that standstill place to cover the entire living space in a thick blanket of forgotten memory?)

“I can see that, Solace. I meant — why.”

“Because!” Solace gestures grandly, hands fluttering in some particular way that means nothing, really; just accentuates his wide grin, his twinkling eyes. The rocking he’s constantly doing, back and forth, back and forth, the twitching of his fingers. Electrons on a wire. “It’s been a while since you’ve had a radio or anything, right? Figured you might have a couple years to catch up on. Might be fun.”

Nico turns the CD case over again in his hand, peripherally aware of the shifting rainbows, still, reflecting off Will’s hair now, dying it redgreengold. There’s sharpie scrawled across the surface, completely illegible except for the plethora of exclamation points, the doodle of a cat, and the chain of flowers drawn carefully around the edge.

Will is smiling so, so brightly.

“Thank you,” Nico says quietly. He clears his throat, looking away. “I’ll, um. I’ll listen to it. Tonight.”

“Great!” Will chirps. “I got lots more, I’ll stop by after my shift and you can tell me what you liked. That way you can have more input on karaoke night.”

“Oh, I’m not gonna —”

“See you tomorrow! Write down what you think!”

“— do that.”

Nico returns his parting wave helplessly, watching as he sprints down the stairs and then, for no discernible reason, cartwheels three times on his way across the common. Immediately upon righting himself he walks into a (thankfully unlit) brazier and goes sprawling, calling out, to no one, I’m okay! and bounding back off.

“How are you alive,” Nico mutters to himself. He turns back to the CD case, running his thumb across the edges. He notices, for the first time, the hearts that have been drawn along the clasps. A smile pushes its way across his face no matter how hard he tries to fight it back.

When he plays it that night, lying on his bed with his headphones tucked over his ears and his Walkman resting on his stomach, the first song is Walking on Sunshine.

He can’t fight back a smile then, either.

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thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 3 days

Text

w.count: 2k - wanderer finally got his name and he feels like he's gotta tell someone... (bet yall never saw this comin)

there was a humming in his head. and it felt heavy. like he had been dunked in a bin of well water and had only just resurfaced. regaining a whole past life of memories on top of immediately being thrown into combat with the past life god version of yourself... it certain had a kick to it. that kick being the biggest headache the nameless wanderer has ever experienced... past or present.

the wanderer had only just recovered all his past memories through simulations provided graciously by the dendro archon. trying to separate the dull, mindlessly kind life he had been living in this lifetime from the one he had just remembered where he was anything but? the whiplash was enough to make anyone second guess pretty much everything.

in the background of his emotional recollection the nameless mechanical puppet could hear the traveler and paimon talk back and forth with the small buer herself. just because he could hear them though, didn't mean he was listening.

wanderer's back turned away from them for a moment and his hand lifts up to pinch between his eyes, palm resting on the tip of his nose as he swallows back a sigh. they were talking about him following nahida's guidance, and he had no qualms with it, really. he just felt overwhelmed... not that he could say so aloud.

the trio continued talking and soon decided to grant him a new name. if it didn't have any connection to that insufferable man who was the root cause of all his suffering to begin with he didn't have a preference anyway-

"are you sure?" the nameless doll asked the blond traveler who had just spoken the new name he would eventually be using. "...ah, alright, if you say so."

-at least... he thought he had no preference.

wanderer had no issue with the name itself. it was given to him by someone who- foolishly- help him regain his memories and set him straighter. a debt he would have to eventually repay somehow since even he was capable of being grateful to someone. but, the way it sounded coming out of the traveler's mouth felt... wrong. like they weren't the right person to say it first; which made absolutely no sense as they're the one who came up with it in the first place. paimon had also not yet come up with an 'ugly nickname', but that wasn't his problem to begin with.

there was this digging in the back of his mind, like he had some other place to be. his legs were itching to move, feet ready to take him out of the sanctuary of surasthana. so, without much resistance, he listened to the silent cries of his mechanical body.

"goodbye, wise deity, and you two."

even if his jumbled up mind didn't process where his body was taking him, he trusted it to take him where he thought he ought to be. besides, with his new vision in hand even if he walked into some place dangerous to the common person- he could handle it.

its crazy that just this morning he was walking through these same streets of sumeru city as virtually a whole different person. the mild-mannered boy who would return the smallest favors just to keep himself occupied. now he was different, but not the same as the 'him' who's memories he had regained. a combination of the two, just messy and unbalanced right now.

the sun was setting and casting the city in shadows and orange hues. mindlessly, wanderer had meandered down and out of the city gates. walking and casting glances to and fro before a small hut had entered his peripherals. his auto-piloted body stopped just short of a full step before kicking up speed. his easy gait turned rushed and before he knew it, he was jogging to the hut.

it was a tea hut. just a small one. a couple bench tables out front, a small chimey in the roof and what seemed like hardly enough room inside for five people and a stove to fit comfortably. still, the smell of boiled tea leaves hung in the air like invisible ribbons. just standing in front of the closed-up shop filled him with familiarity.

the memories that had been muddled started to separate into clearer views the longer he stood in the dirt just looking around at the lackluster area.

wanderer's shoulders jumped when the door that had been closed to the tea hut creaked open. a body carrying a small wicker basket with a cloth over it had pushed it open with their back, rolling it onto their shoulder before stepping out and letting it swing shut at their back.

"ah!" they- you- jolt. the sun was setting and normally people don't fancy a cup of tea at late hours where your little humble hut stood, so seeing the feet of someone in front of the building spooked you. the wicker basket had dropped to the dirt, causing small plumes of dust to breathe over your ankles. "you scared me- oh!" the stranger in which had scared you, was no stranger to you at all. "i didn't think i'd be seeing you again so soon."

"yeah..." the wanderer's voice was practically a whisper only carried by the wind. he knew you- the previous mild-mannered boy did anyway.

among his wandering, he had happened upon your hut and with nothing better to do had ordered tea from you. you were a chatter box. easily conversing and holding all sort of topics of discussion with your customers- as few as they may be.

he couldn't remember if it was because of your tea that was somehow exactly to his liking or if it was because, back then, he enjoyed the company, but he did remember frequently returning to this tea hut.

he had come several times and as embarrassing as it was to admit, he had built a sort of bond with you. to the point where he had explained to you that he had no name and always felt like he was missing something in his life. of course he didn't disclose everything there is to him, but just enough to ease the weight in his chest just ever so slightly.

'maybe you lost your memory or something? i've heard lesser lord kusanali can do all sorts of things, so maybe she could help!'

you had pitched that to him one time. probably just to try and cheer him up or something. who knew that you'd end up being right on the mark.

"is something the matter?" you had disregarded the basket at your feet- it was empty anyway- and came a bit closer to the nameless boy.

"no, it's nothing." he told you. something in his tone immediately gave him away. it wasn't the soft tone you had grown used to. it sounded choked, like he was trying to act. you think for a moment before twisting halfway around back towards the hut's door.

"you stay put here," you tell him. his gaze moves to finally look you in the eyes and his own twitch and burn when they connect. he's always hated eye contact, but yours felt so comfortable. "i'll go and make a cup of tea for you. since you like it black, it won't take long."

the feeling that drops into his gut when your eyes break away from his and you back stares to his gaze instead was akin to a type of panic.

"hold on-!" his voice was quiet, clogged in his throat and he felt pretty pathetic when it left his lips. his body again moves all on its own and before he could reel himself in, his hands grab onto you.

with your back to him, his hands grasp both of your biceps and keeps you in place like a shield between him and the rigidity ol' hut. you could feel the tips of his sandals at the back of your heels and the presence of his body behind you signaling how close he really was. his forehead rests on the back of your neck, just under the dip of your skull. the tip of his nose tickles your neck when your shoulders raise with each intake of breath.

"uhm," you have no idea what's gotten into him or why he's acting so strange, but it's not like you really had time to ask before he was spilling his guts.

"i got my memories back." he sounded so solemn, as he feels your shoulder's jolt.

"really?!" your voice was loud as it echoed in the empty space around. it sounded excited, curious too. "I bet that's a loud off your shoulders, huh?" you light heartedly say.

"in a way." he couldn't admit his past wrongs to you- even if all of that was in a whole other timeline. he still did so many awful things and he wouldn't deny it. "i might act differently towards you now that i know... who i am."

"that's alright, isn't it?" against the crown of his bowed head that made a home against your neck, he feels your head tilt back. your arms shifted too, like they had moved to cup your chin. he could picture it perfectly in his head when he closes his eyes.

"its complicated."

"well, that's alright too."

"is it?" his jaw clenches as your arms go lax again.

"can i turn around?"

"not yet."

"why not?"

"because i said so." his eyebrow twitches.

"oh, so you're demanding now?" you tease.

"that a problem?" he teases back, a chuckle brushing your neck as he does. he knows what you're doing and he's thankful for it. the banter is relaxing.

"not at all."

it's a while before he's finally dropping his hands from your arms, and letting you turn around. your hands on your hips as you look at him in the face again. he's calmed down, feels tired, and a little embarrassed at how his body impulsively moved in such a mushy, romantic-coded way. if he had a gag reflex, he probably would've gagged at such a cliche action of his own limbs.

"so, do you still like your tea black?"

wanderer's arms came to cross over his chest, his stern face relaxing into what was probably a bit more of a harsh tone than you were used to in the past. you didn't say it out loud, but this version of him would take some getting used to.

"of course i do. sweets are sickening." you burst out into laughter at his words and the disgusted tone accompanying them. in the past he would've politely stated that they 'weren't to his liking' or something. not outright rejected the idea of sweets.

"that's good. i was worried i'd have to relearn your usual cup of tea." you pop your fist into your opposing hand before your changing the subject away from tea preferences. "oh yeah! since you remember things, do you remember your name?"

"i've had several," he states curtly. "none of them i use anymore." he watched your face twist in confusion before falling into something like disappointment. were you really that excited to finally get to put a name to his face? he sighs. "a... friend," he grits, "technically gave me a new one. since i have nothing else to go by right now, i'll probably be using that for the time being." your eyes relit in excitement. he feels his insides get hot.

"that's great! what is it? i want to know!" you were pushy and he scoffs amusedly at it. the traveler's voice echoed in his memory, his new name bouncing around in his mind. then it all made sense with you in front of him.

reaching up, he pulled on your cheek. you squawk and whine as he stretches the soft flesh, pinching it between his fingertips. no wonder it sounded wrong coming out of that meddler's mouth. it's because it wasn't you and his subconscious knew it before he did. gross, he hisses to himself internally again.

"i'm only going to tell you once, so you better pay attention." the not-so-nameless boy released your cheek, watching bemusedly as you rubbed the sore piece of your face. his stance shifts, relaxes with his arms crossing comfortably over his chest. and with direct eye contact and an easy, yet almost smug smile on his face, he told you...

"my name is..."

a/n: okay this is kinda sorta really messy and i apologize for that

#genshin impact #wanderer x reader #wanderer fluff #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x y/n #wanderer x you #genshin impact wanderer #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche fluff #wanderer #scaramouche #wanderer headcanons #wanderer scenarios #wanderer genshin #genshin wanderer #wanderer fic #wanderer blurb

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

Hey! I hope your doing well! I was just wondering if you could maybe do a blurb or something small on Spencer loving reader and being super affectionate to reader who is feeling a bit insecure about having stretch marks up their thighs, if no then no worries thank you!

Thanks gorgeous!

cw: body image issues

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 794 words

You look unhappy.

You think Spencer’s not watching, but he is, tracking you in his peripheral vision as he types up a report on his laptop. You’re frowning at something, fingertips pulling harshly at the skin of your thigh where it’s spread on the couch. Stretching it apart, then pinching it together. Your frown worsens.

“What’re you thinking about?” he asks, and you give a little start, eyes flying to his as turns his attention from his laptop.

“Nothing, really,” you say, as if that’s gonna work. As if your boyfriend’s not a trained profiler for the FBI whose expertise lies in analyzing minute gestures and facial expressions. You’re not even giving him a challenge, with your slightly widened eyes and just barely parted lips. You’d be terrible at poker.

“You look upset,” Spencer says plainly.

“I’m not.”

He cocks his head at you, curiosity heightened by your evasion. “You’re frowning, and now you’re picking at your nail beds.” You look down at your hands in your lap, then fold them. “What’s going on?”

You blow out a breath, shaking your head lightly. “It’s nothing, I—I know I’m being silly.”

“I don’t mind silly things,” he encourages softly.

You fix your gaze on the couch cushions, and Spencer shuts his laptop, scooching closer to you. He takes your hand, letting you parse your words in your own time.

“It’s seriously nothing,” you say finally. “It’s just, I found a new stretch mark here.” You run your thumb over the outer edge of your thigh tenderly, almost glumly. “Or maybe it’s not new, I don’t know. I hadn’t noticed it before.”

“Okay…” Spencer says slowly, unsure of how to react and watching your expression for guidance. “And that makes you upset?”

“Not upset,” you say, rolling your eyes with what looks suspiciously like forced lightness. “Just…I don’t know, they’re embarrassing, and now there’s a new one, so they’re even more noticeable than before.”

Now Spencer’s frowning too. “They’re not embarrassing,” he says, then reconsiders. “Or, I know embarrassment is relative, but there’s nothing bad or shameful about them.”

You don’t respond, seeming disinclined to argue but nowhere near being in agreement either. Spencer takes a different approach.

“Hey,” he softens his voice, pivoting so that he’s facing you more fully and beginning to rub your hand in what he hopes is a soothing way, “do you know why stretch marks happen?”

You don’t look very soothed. “Yeah,” you say quietly, flushing pink. Your cheek tilts towards your shoulder like you want to hide from him. “Because you gain weight.”

“Or lose weight,” Spencer agrees, taking your other hand in his to give it the same attention. “Or go through puberty, or exercise a lot, or it runs in your family, or you have slightly higher levels of cortisol. Really, tons of stuff, which is why they’re so common.”

He looks up from your hands to find you watching him, your expression a bit less wary.

“You’re really beautiful,” he says earnestly, catching your face in his hand when you go to duck your head. “I know I don’t say it much, but that’s only because it seems so obvious I don’t think you need to hear it. But if you do, I can tell you. I don’t mind telling you.”

Your cheek is hot against his palm, but the look you give him is as melty sweet as ice cream in the sun. “Thanks, Spence.”

“Can I…” he hesitates with his hand hovering above the marks.

“If you want.”

He runs his fingers over them lightly, little lightning strikes against your skin. “They feel kinda nice,” he says, and you smile like he’s being generous. “No, really. They’re soft, like little ridges in your skin.” He pauses, glancing up at you. You look almost as if you’re holding your breath, tracking his fingers as they graze over your leg. “But I guess I’m biased,” he admits. “I like anything that has to do with you.”

You huff a laugh, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “You’re too good to me.”

“I’m not as good as you deserve,” Spencer says, “but thank you.” He brushes his lips against yours, and you angle your head in response, kissing him lightly. “Is it weird for you if I keep touching them? They’re kind of mesmerizing.”

You laugh, and Spencer thinks that if sunshine were audible, it’d sound like that. You make no answer, but he takes your smile to be assent enough as it blooms against his lips. You move into his lap, and he strokes at your thigh while you take his face in gentle hands, kissing sweetly at his top lip. At this rate, he thinks, his report is going to be late. He doesn’t mind.

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tainted-liquor · 7 months

Text

'Boys blowin' up my phone...ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ ft. 42Miles

...˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

ingredients: salt, tears, and a speck of sugar.

tw's: unrequited love-ish?, cussing, reader has pretty priveledge

a/n: girl's girl reader! She's here for her girls n we love that

Throughout your life, you've always kept a reputation as a pretty girl. From a pretty baby to a girl that looked like she came straight out of Pinterest. Your hair was always flawless, in your natural 4c curls or in some pretty box braids with beads. From the moment you opened your eyes and spoke your mind, you had everyone falling at your pretty little heels. Admittedly you found it partially disgusting, watching boys and men treat you like an ancient beauty and shunning other girls to bring you up. You fucking hated it.

After all, the word 'ugly' is just a bullshit concept invented by white men with an opinion. Nobody is ugly, they just aren't confined to the Euro-centric beauty standard. And who fucking needs approval from them? So your contacts stayed full, and you left almost every boy on read or delivered. To say your phone was an atomic bomb was an understatement, you picked up the habit of just...not coming off of DND!

You spent all your time with your girls, spending all your time giving them the love and care that everyone should be giving them. You cheered them on, held them when they cried, kept them in check when necessary, and doted on them just like a loving sister. Beauty meant nothing to you, and you never wanted someone to hate you based on the false 'pretty girl' title you held. You simply didn't care about the boys in B.V.A, because they all lacked common sense. All except Miles.

Now, the reason you liked him was probably stupid. You knew that good and well. You liked him because he stayed out of your face, and was one of the few who didn't talk about or make comments on any of the girls at your school. In fact, he didn't talk at all, that's why you like him so much. You've had a couple conversations with him here and there, with him nodding briefly and giving short little statements in response to yours.

"Aight, I'm gonna go to my dorm" He nodded, waving bye as he put his hoodie back over his head, walking in the direction opposite of you. And fuck, did it crush your heart. It wasn't like he was ignoring, avoiding, or ducking you. You heard through the grapevine that he just isn't into anyone, and isn't looking for a relationship at the moment. Which was fine.

But sometimes you'd wish he'd walk up to you, start a conversation, and ask to hang out. Just the two of you in the school library, walking through the many bookshelves and talking about whatever came to mind. You had three classes together, watching as he always passed you by and sat at the back of the class to doodle in his sketchbook. He never spared you a second glance, keeping his eyes glued to the ceiling or his sketchbook as you pretended to glance at your friends in the back, watching him through your peripheral. It pushed you to tears every time you returned to your dorm, mascara cascading down your face every time you thought of how he behaved as though you were invisible.

It started to hurt. He was all that plagued your mind as you digested how jaw-droppingly gorgeous he was. When the bell rang and signified it was lunch time, you grabbed your things as quickly as possible as you went to place your bag in your locker. You wanted to grab a little croissant sandwich at a nearby coffee shop to clear your head, but unbeknownst to you, it was raining. You flung open the school's dark oak double doors to see a vicious downpour, immediately feeling somber as you sighed to yourself. Well fuck you can't have shit, can you?

"Fuck." You muttered, getting ready to go back to your dorm and skip lunch. You weren't even hungry anymore as you trudged back to your shared space, plunging your face into your pillow as you sighed deeply. You scrolled through your phone, ignoring the 8+ messages you had on Instagram, viewing Miles' story, and being bombarded by Magnolia by Playboi Carti immediately. He was sitting at a cafe table, looking down at his phone while Ganke kicked his feet up on the table, a comic book resting on his face. You did nothing but like the story before powering off your phone and drifting off to sleep.

You accidentally skipped the rest of your classes for the day, but it was fine considering you only had Jewelry, creative writing, and a free. Your roommate/best friend had been chilling at her desk, doing her pre-calc homework as you heard the faintest bit of bass coming from her AirPods. You assumed she couldn't hear you, so you fell back on your bed and posted new selfies to your story. "Lila, what song should I choose?" You asked as soon as you heard the bass die out. "Uhm...Focus by HER. By the way, where you been girl? I had to go to jewelry alone" Lila asked as she looked up to the top of your shared bunk bed. "My bad, I wasn't feelin' too good so I took a nap!" You chirped as you rubbed your eyes.

"Ah, that's aight. Hope you feelin' better. By the way, I found this in the back of 7th period" She muttered, pulling a crumpled-up piece of paper from off of her desk and extending her arm straight up and back so you could grab the sheet. You held the form, immediately locking eyes with a perfect drawing of yourself. You were sitting on the lockers, knees to chest with your lavender-purple beats. "Damn, who drew this? They're good" You gasped, snapping a picture to post later. "No clue. But girl move over I gotta tell you about what happened with me and Kazir" Lila giggled as she powered off her computer, turning on the salt lamp and climbing up to your bunk.

Taglist

@ashsostrange @chessbox @faeriesoiree333 @janaeby @fivestardior @an1bara @bachirasegoist @milesnanana77 @niaurluv

#atsv #across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles #e42 miles x black!reader #e42 miles

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