#crack taken far too seriously
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A part of Mutual Help series!
pairing: mh!jungkook x reader
warnings: explicit language, Kiko is mentioned (this deserves it's own warning)
genre: fluff
word count: 1.8k+
a/n: Merry Christmas! ♡
Mutual Help Series
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“Oooh, what could be in here?” Taehyung muses, pursing his reddened lips that has gotten its own intense color thanks to the cold weather outside.
What was he doing outside when you've been at this place for around an hour? Flirting, of course.
“Knowing you, probably tons of condoms.” you answer, causing Taehyung to stop shaking the present he's just gotten from Jimin. It stops rattling under his grip as he shoots you a glare across the table.
Unfazed, you reach with your chopsticks for a piece of meat before you put it in your mouth. Next to you, Jungkook cackles under his breath and Jimin looks proud by your little comment.
“Well, miss I-don't-need-anyone, we all like to have our fun. Maybe you should try it.” Taehyung bites back. Though his tone sounds serious and deep with his thick accent, there's a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
You know how far you can take it to joke with each of your friends. Taehyung's got a thick skin and there's only so little you could actually say to offend him. Not that you would ever want to. Taehyung loves jokes and fun, he loves teasing and most of the time he's the one who takes it too far but never to actually cause a damage to your friendship. Whatever he says, you know should not be taken to heart literally. Therefore, no matter what he says about your single life – you don't take it as an insult.
“Hooking up with a bunch of strangers? No thanks.”
He grins, “Maybe you should try it.”
“You offering?” you shoot right back, Jungkook choking on his soda as Jimin laughs out loud.
“You know what? Once you grow up a little, text me.”
You snort, “Stop acting as if I was a child.”
Taehyung shrugs, “No, but you're the baby of our group.”
Groaning, you frown. “Don't call me that.”
“Deny it all you want, Y/L/N but we all know the truth.”
“You guys scare almost every guy that looks at me. It beats the point of having fun.”
“Don't say shit like that, now! I'm all for you exploring and having fun.”
“Our point of fun is slightly different than hers, Tae.” Jimin comments, putting more meat to your plate as you thank him with a grateful smile. For the meat, of course. Although, he's not that off about the entire fun topic.
“We all know what kind of fun we're talking about.”
“Alright, let's move on, yeah?” Jungkook calls, shaking his head at Taehyung.
“Here we go, protective Jungkook.”
“Why do you always somehow bring up sex in every conversation?” Jungkook scolds him.
Taehyung gasps, feigning offense as he points his finger at you. “First of all, she started talking about condoms!”
Jimin laughs out loud while you shoot him a glare for being too loud. God, you hope the owners won't kick you out. Talking so publicly about sex is often frowned upon. No one who wants to enjoy their meal wants to hear someone talking about sex from the other table. Unless those people are… open like Taehyung. He's always been a bit shameless.
Jungkook glances at you upon Taehyung's finger that's directed toward you. You shrug innocently. “So what? You automatically got into it.”
“You know it doesn't take too much for me.”
“That's true.” Jimin nods along with Taehyung's response.
You laugh, “Just open the goddamn present, Tae.”
He cracks a grin and starts laughing before he rips the package open. Surprisingly, it's not condoms – you would seriously laugh your ass out if it were – but it's a box of popular male fragrances in smaller versions. You recognize all of them, silently praising Jimin for this year's present.
You all exchange presents for each other. There was an idea coming from Jimin, you think, last year to pick up a secret Santa for each year. But there's something special and thoughtful about buying everyone a gift. And it makes a slight burden to all your wallets, but nobody said the presents have to be expensive. Yet, they're always meaningful and nobody gives shitty presents here.
You meet every year before Christmas since all of you spend it with your families. You've decided to make your own and celebrate it together, even if it's beforehand. This year it has to be because you're flying back home sooner than usual.
They were kind enough to meet no matter what, said it wouldn't be the same if you weren't here.
After that is done, Jungkook is the one to take you home since Taehyung came to pick you up. There's fog everywhere with snow sitting down and not melting anytime soon. You love when there's snow around Christmas time.
On your way home, it's not that late by the time you arrive. Jungkook helps you with your presents upstairs and accepts a cup of tea you offer him with a stern look. You're quick to shed the layers of clothes and make yourself more comfortable. You bring Jungkook his tea and make a hot chocolate for yourself.
“What you got in there?” you ask, plopping next to him as the warmth and scent of home hugs you.
“A little something,” he says with a cheeky grin.
Spotting the same Christmas wrapping paper he has used for all his presents, you give him a knowing look. You're about to protest and scold the shit out of him when he shakes his head with another grin.
“Stop.”
“No, you stop!” you whine, “You already gave me your present.”
And it was great. Jungkook has given you two tickets to a water park that's located on Jeju Island. That alone tells you it wasn't quite cheap.
“It's not much, I swear.”
“But why? We all decided on one present.”
Grateful that he's so thoughtful, you're slightly annoyed that he broke the rule that perhaps never was so serious but it makes you feel bad.
“Just because.”
“That's not a valid reason.”
“Sounds very valid to me,” he sings out, teasing you a little further as you both giggle. “You'll understand it once you open it.” he finishes it with that, urging you to open it.
Hiding the heat in your cheeks, you playfully roll your eyes and start unboxing the little box he has managed to sneak in his jacket. Curiosity and excitement takes over you because Jungkook's presents are always something else. You rip the package and gasp as soon as you recognize the familiar box.
“Kook!”
“You told me you ran out the other day.”
“Did you–”
“Bought it when Jimin bought Taehyung's present? Yeah.” He answers, already knows what you were about to ask. But you're too stunned to scold him for interrupting you.
You open the box and pull out your favorite perfume. A few weeks ago, you don't even know how that conversation came up but you mentioned to him that your perfume is running out indeed. It wasn't anything intentional of course, more of a whine when you were about to spray a tiny amount as you were about to go out. You thought he was barely listening to you, urging you to rush out your ass outside. His exact words.
But he's always listening.
“I think I'm gonna be more careful what I'm about to say in front of you. You're gonna buy me everything I mentioned.” you chuckle, taking a good inhale of your favorite flowery and powdery scent. You mostly use it during warm seasons but it's a good one even in the winter.
It's your staple scent. Everyone knows it. It's special. You were using it back at home and it not only smells incredible, it also holds a certain emotional attachment you have with it.
“Don't worry about that, you're out of my budget.”
You kick the side of his thigh as you cross your legs under your butt, carefully placing the bottle on the table next to the ripped wrapping paper. “I wanted to buy it after Christmas.”
“You don't have to anymore.”
You give him a look, questioning his answer for everything as he simply justifies his thoughtfulness in the most basic manner. He always brushes it like it's nothing. But it's very special to you. He is.
In seconds, you wrap your arms around him and hug him tightly. He lets out a surprised gasp, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he hugs you back. He's warm, smells like a mixture of his wooden cologne and winter air.
“Thank you.” you mumble into his shoulder before you slowly pull away. “But seriously, you should stop spending so much money on me. Don't you have a girlfriend to spend money on?”
As far as you know, she's fine with it but who knows. Jungkook isn't the type to let anyone get into your or guys' friendships. But he's also in love and people in love tend to be slightly blind, if you must say so. Not that you speak from your own experiences but well, it's quite known. And Jungkook is definitely in love.
“Don't worry about Kiko,” he assures you, “She'll get a good amount of presents too.”
“Well, I hope she loves you for you and not for your bank account.”
He scowls, causing you to give him a childish toothy grin that acts innocent. “She's not like that.”
“But I'm serious, you should stop spending so much money on people. Especially on me.”
“I spend my money however I want and you know what?” he asks with a grin, leaning closer to you as you watch him with wide eyes. “It's none of your business.” he flicks your nose with his thumb causing you to cuss him out as you push his forehead to get him away from your proximity.
“So really, just accept it.”
“You're stubborn.”
“You're telling me?” he laughs out loud as if you just told him the biggest joke.
Rolling your eyes again, you purse your lips. “I wanted to be nice, you moron.”
“Be nice by just accepting it. And the simple thanks is just enough, not needed though. The hug was very nice.”
You slap his arm in a teasing manner which causes him to laugh even more. “I'll hug you for the rest of my life.”
“Promise?” he smirks.
“I promise.” you giggle, nodding.
“Well, then Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Kook.” you smile, the warmth spreading all over your heart. Even though this year hasn't been all rainbow and sunshine, it's alright as long as you have these people right beside you.
Who cares about presents? They're nice and show the thoughtfulness behind them by each of your friends. What you need the most is just them. And the special relationship you have with each of them will hopefully last your lifetime. Because if it doesn't, nothing will ever be the same.
Without them you would feel lost. At the moment, you're anything but lost. You have your second family, hoping this tradition between you never dies and will continue years and years.
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p. yanderebf!jay x fem bodied reader | warnings: mafia? it's not flat out said, mentions of sex, blood, jay is crazy | words: 0.7k ~ (738) 🦅ㆍ₊⊹
request: can i req a dark romance involving established rs w jay and reader wherein he took "i would kill for you" seriously and too far 👀
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
“baby I love you so much, you don’t understand id do anything for you— fuck I’d kill someone for you.”
Hearing your boyfriend say that; you didn’t think anything of it, jay always said this, and you chalked it up as your boyfriend proving how much he loved you after sex; being a little dramatic due to adrenaline— but you were so unaware of how dangerous your boyfriend actually was, and that he was serious.
“sit him up there.” Jay ordered his jake and heeseung to sit the tied up man; who’s face had already taken a brutal beating in the wooden chair. “wh-who are you?” the man struggled against the weight of jays friends. “now that doesn’t matter does it seeing as you wont be around long enough to tell anyone.”
“jay?” he looked up, your eyes looking around the room. “oh hi princess come.” He beckoned you over to him. “come see baby.” Your eyes went wide upon seeing the bloody man in the seat, his eyes black and blue; unable to even see the white’s of his eyes. “ja-jay who is this, what did you do?”
“oh you don’t remember him, he’s the guy who hit on you at the bar last weekend, you know the fucking creep who kept touching your ass.” He said, you didn’t even tell him that, so how did he know. “how’d you find that out.”
“pretty girl, you think i allow you to leave the house in a dress that small without someone watching you, what kind of boyfriend would I be?” he said almost offended you’d think something like that. “heeseung saw everything, how come you didn’t tell me?”
“i-it didn’t occur to me, it actually slipped my mind.” You tried not to make eye contact with the man, the smell of his blood burning your nostrils. “you did this to him?” your boyfriend showed no emotions. “that?” he pointed to his face. “oh no, jake did.” He said. “did a real number on him.”
“y-you didn’t have to do this, it was no big deal.” You said, jays eyes turned dark. “are you defending him?” he said. “no-no of course not.” He smiled softly. “don’t be scared baby, im not gonna hurt you of course.” He picked up the bat that was already sitting here. “just trying to protect you that’s all.”
“that’s why to avoid all this blood shed I’ll be joining you on your outings, I never felt comfortable letting you out alone anyway.” He said. “too many creeps out there and I may not be able to kill them all.” Kill? “jay how many people have you done this too?”
“how many creeps have hit on since we’ve been dating.” He chuckled darkly. “I stopped counting.” He said, you didn’t know what to do, you loved jay; but him killing people on your behalf wasn’t something you wanted. “yo-you don’t have to kill him, he’s already beat up enough, im sure he leaned his lesson.”
Held the bat im his hand, his other hand coming up to caress your face. “that’s why you don’t make the rules I do.” Before you could say anything else, he gripped your cheeks, your lips forming a pout. “this is where you stop talking princess, understand?” you nodded, he pulled away. “good girl, when im done with this fucker , I’ll take you to a nice dinner okay.”
You didn’t say anything else, watch your boyfriend and his friends raise their bats, the man barely getting a plea out before the bats came down— his screams making you jump, covering your ears to mask the sound of his bones cracking as the bats came up and down, his blood splattering everywhere.
Jay dropped the bat, catching his breath, his face and body covered in blood. “fuck this suit was expensive.” He cursed. “princess.” He turned to you. “lets go.” He held is bloody hand out. “I got us reservations at your favorite place.” He squeezed your hand, pulling you next to him.
“wh-what about him?” jay sighed, he didn’t want to deal with this much longer. “jake, heeseung; deal with him.” He said. “me and you are gonna go take a shower together.” He said, his eyes full of hunger, even after all that he was horny. “gonna go fuck my girl and then take her to dinner.”
“you love me baby right?” He kissed your wet skin, the water running down your bodies, the water red as it went down the drain. “you won’t have ever leave me right?” he squeezed your waist, you whined. “ye-yes.”
“good princess, and now you know I would really kill anyone for you to show you.”
©️LUVYENI
#kpop x reader#kpop smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen imagines#enhypen smut#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#jay park smut#jay smut#jay park scenarios#jay scenarios#jay park x reader#jay hard thoughts#jay hard hours
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Hii! I have an idea ☝️😈
What about teen gojo and geto meeting future reader and they’re all baffled and mesmerized and all this fluffy stuff and reader is just like “🧍♀️” confused since she was fighting a curse a few seconds ago- But the adult versions of the two are busy doing whatever else so she has to deal with them until the curse wears off?
Just wanted to ramble 🏃♀️ Merry Christmas!
i like ur rambling, anon. guess what timeline i picked, hehe. whether or not it’s canon to main dyf au, is for you to decide. merry christmas hohoho
You practically deflate onto the ground, knees scraping against the soft dirt whilst your poor, beaten up staff was used as your sole support where you had stabbed it into the dirt, your hands sliding down the handle of your weapon as the dust settles around you.
It was rare to have you deployed on-field for an exorcism of a curse, and even rarer for you to have to deal with anything above a Grade 2.
(Mainly due to your husbands who were sorely against you having to do any exorcism at all.)
But, alas, even they can’t slay every single curse in the world; the higher-ups having purposefully kept their most powerful busy as of late.
“And you promise to abandon your mission if you can’t defeat it?” A seriousness in his tone, almost dreadful, almost domineering in nature. Geto Suguru will not take no for an answer, his hands upon your shoulders squeezing lightly, trembling just ever so slightly.
“Do not fight anything you deem above your skill level.” Gojo Satoru is wholly deadpan, your pinkies interlocked in a promise as intense eyes stare you down. You feel his pinky tighten, restless, unlabeled impatience. Absent of any semblance of playfulness. “Okay?”
You’ve taken their words seriously, only taking fights that you know you would win; only running when you know you can’t.
A jujutsu sorcerer does not give their life up so easily.
You hear a rustle from the bushes, eyes darting behind you, and ripping your weapon out and readying for another face off just as you feel a familiar, overwhelming power looming just where you had looked away.
“Now, now, now.” That familiar voice, lacking in all the more mature tones you were used to, all the gentleness that you’ve grown so fond of.
“You’re gonna drop your weapon, put your pretty hands up and slowly turn around to face me.”
(You didn’t even hear his footsteps. Was he flying?)
There’s no hesitation in your compliance, the clatter of your staff to the ground as your hands are held up. The malice in the energy you feel all stoked and ready to explode at any given moment, the tones of his voice an underlying, upset melancholy.
You’re facing the Gojo Satoru, afterall. However, there’s an issue with him, something you’ve realized all too soon after loving him for so long.
There’s a tensed silence between the both of you during the stare-down, your eyes still getting used to his slightly shorter stature, much shorter hair as compared to your highschool days and current adult age. His cheeks a tad bit fuller, but eyes dulled considerably.
He’s still so cute.
“My Six Eyes tell me that you’re (name) (last name).” From your breathing pattern down to every last speck of your cursed energy; it was undeniably you. His eyes shine with quiet grief, and gritted regret as you meet his gaze.
You feel sorry for him.
“…but you’re not my (name).” You’re a little more mature looking, a little far too calm and collected in his presence. You’re the same; yet not the one he knew. His eyes narrow as the red on his glowing hand fizzles out, his stance commanding and broad as his feet finally touch the ground before you, using his looming height as a threat. It contrasts the way his voice cracks just as he ends his words, a beating silence enveloping the both of you as your heart calms, your hands slowly going down.
“And you’re not my Satoru.” It causes a stuttering, reddish plum to his cheeks, a throb to his heart that he hadn’t expected to feel, clenching his fists, a click of realization alongside his fingernails digging into his skin, intrepid gaze holding your calm one.
“So I am in another world.”
——
This wasn’t your Suguru either. His hair is messily bunned up, the bags under his eyes darker than you have ever seen him. His lips are dry, his complexion lacking any of the usual vigor your Suguru had.
He looks far too weary, far too tired as he sits upon a nearby bench, hunched over and just so exhausted that it makes you wonder when was the last time he has had a good night’s sleep.
“Oi, Suguru!” The ‘Satoru’ that you had met is all too keen to greet the boy, his hand around your elbow and pulling you along with him. “I found out where we’re at!” His loud call only heeds the visible slump of the black-haired boy’s tensed shoulders, eyes still cast towards the ground as the cicadas call around him.
“And I found somebody to help us.” He brings the both of yourselves to a stop before the blank boy.
“It’s nice to meet you?” You’re honestly at a loss for words at the situation. For how all powerful and odd Gojo’s powers can be, you hadn’t expected this situation one bit.
It’s at your voice that this ‘Geto Suguru’ nearly whirls his head back at a speed so quick that it nearly scares you. Dry, reddened eyes widening and mouth opening, getting up on shaky legs as he extends a hand towards you.
“You—“
——
“So…” The silence is far too awkward for you to be comfortable. “There was a (name) in your timeline too, I hear?” Your fingers are twiddling with your jujutsu uniform as you sat in between the both of them, their proximity a just inching between the line of too close whilst awaiting for Ijichi’s pickup to the campus.
‘Gojo Satoru’ is the first to speak up. “Yeah.”
A pause.
“Our (name) is… Dead.” You see ‘Geto Suguru’’s hands clench at his uniform pants, bundling the fabric up so tight that his knuckles started to turn white.
Oh. You feel bad now.
“I’m… Sorry about that.”
A breath is sucked in through his teeth. “Don’t be.”
You shouldn’t feel sorry for them at all. It’ll just make it worse than it already is.
Isn’t it funny? Comical? That their (name) had to be ripped away from their hold, had to be clawed away from their reach, only for fate to place another you; living, breathing right in front of them.
So palpable, so alike, so unbearably, painfully you. It makes them want to throw up in disgust, honestly. But they can’t.
Because it’s you.
“I-I’m sure that I-“ No. “Your (name) lived a good life if you were both around, then. Please- Trust me on this.” You know. You know that any version of ‘you’ would be satisfied with their life if they had friends like them; Gojo, Geto and Ieiri.
It’s a life that no version of you would ever regret. You wouldn’t regret becoming a jujutsu sorcerer if you had gotten to meet people like them.
And it brings two broken hearts just a tinge more comfort.
——
“Um, Satoru..”
“Yes?” It was a chorus of two similar voices.
“Ah— No. Uhm— My Satoru.” You’re a bit frazzled as you nod towards your blindfolded husband, a satisfied hum coming from him as he made his way towards you.
“Just call the other one Gojo! Or you can just call for your hubby~” He’s cooing into your ear for the duo to watch on, a hand on your waist to hook you in close as a smile is donned upon his face.
There’s a beat of silence before the more intimidating white-haired sorcerer spoke up.
“No. I want to be called Satoru.” The younger Gojo had had his eyes set upon you, never letting you leave his vicinity. Then, that means that the other ‘Geto Suguru’ would be called as simply ‘Suguru’, then.
“Your blindfold’s pretty lame. Do I actually want to wear that?”
Your Gojo chooses to turn his nose up, and ignore that sneer his younger counterpart gave him. “Man, I was so angry.” You hear a sigh as you see a hand wave off the younger boy. “Do whatever you please, little me. But don’tcha leave yet, please! My Suguru’s gonna be so stoked to see this.”
Oh, speaking of your Suguru.
“Did you tell him to pick up some dashi stock for our dinner tonight? I ran out yesterday.”
“…how about we just order a pizza tonight?”
“Sator— Gojo!” Your hands are immediately upon your hips as you feel him hug you towards him, a hand going up to stroke the back of your head, as your face is pressed to his chest to muffle the incoming scolding.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Don’t be mad at me! A wife’s scorn is a husband’s greatest regret!”
“…you guys live all together?” ‘Suguru’’s voice breaks the moment between the both of you.
You feel a rumbling of your husband’s chest as a laugh is released.
“And we got kids together too. Ya jealous yet?”
——
“Aha, this is certainly a sight.” Suguru is shedding himself of his jacket as he kicks off his shoes by the genkan, the sight of his younger self, and double the Gojo certainly jarring for him as they sat around the dining table.
“Welcome home, honey!” It’s your Gojo that skips along to press an obnoxiously wet kiss to your other husband’s lips first as you gently place the final bowl of zaru soba down.
(Minus the miso soup side dish. You’re still slightly mad, but you have guests over.
“We could’ve just ordered a pizzaaaaaa!” Your husband’s whines are ignored as you strain the noodles out.
“I’m not feeding guests a pizza, dearest idiot husband of mind.” You pat your hands dry upon your apron, turning to flick at his forehead as he whines even more, begetting a giggle before you tiptoe up to press a kiss to the area.)
“Welcome home.” Your voice greeting your husband is lost on ‘Satoru’ and ‘Suguru’’s ears as they stare down at the bowl before them. The significance of the food almost making the cursed spirit user tear up.
This was his favourite food. It— ‘You’ and himself used to eat this frequently until—
“Suguru… Are you okay?” A whispered concern from his Satoru.
“Yeah. I—“ He thinks he’s going to be sick. “I’m fine.”
“It isn’t much, but I hope you enjoy it.” His ears finally tune back in just in time to hear your voice once more. Dreary copper-amethyst gaze flicking up to meet your warm, lovely face.
He’ll eat it. He’ll eat it. He’ll eat it.
“Don’t push yourself if you can’t.” It’s this world’s Suguru that pops in, much longer hair, his older features, his broader stature and more muscled body.
(Does— He know what he’s been through?)
His chopsticks are trembling as he brings the noodles to his lips, mouth opening and slowly chewing— He stops as a realization hits him.
It’s delicious. It’s so delicious. There are tears in his eyes as he begins to gobble it up, a hack in his throat as ‘Suguru’ pushes the urge to vomit away to take in more.
(If— if this was his final time meeting you- Then he has to. He has to. But— This is strange. Even his counterpart didn’t react all that much to his and Satoru’s appearance.
It occurs to him that perhaps, they aren’t in another world. If they’re meeting their older selves, then— Perhaps they are in another timeline.
Which means—)
His gaze returns down to the now empty bowl before him, before flickering up to meet your satisfied, almost prideful face.
“Thank you for the meal.”
“You’re welcome! I’m so happy you loved it that much!”
Perhaps this situation wasn’t so bad at all, giving him the chance to see your smiling face once more.
——
“If you give me a kiss, I’ll tell him~” Is he mocking his younger self…? You just wanted him to help the other ‘Satoru’ to get back to his world. Alas, you relent, leaning over to press a chaste, quick kiss to his cheek as your Geto watched on with upturned eyes and a happy smile.
“Hey, kid me.” A joyful hum, a satisfied gait as your Gojo watches the little boy who he once was.
“You already figured out how to go back already, right? Whatcha waiting for?” Huh…? Your Gojo already knows how to get them back?! Your eyes widen as you nearly choke on your water.
“Now, now Gojo. Don’t tease them.” Your Geto is chuckling, patting your back as you cough. “You’ll make our poor wife worried. I’m sure that they have some sort of unfinished business here.”
What?! Were they both in on this? This is just getting stranger, and stranger…
“Heh. Guess it isn’t a surprise I would know myself best, huh?” Satoru lets a cocky grin overtake his features as his fingers intertwined with his Suguru’s.
“Guess I really am the strongest.”
His gaze finally stops at you. “It was nice— Y’know.” He grows shy, eyes shifty from behind his sunglasses. “Seeing a (name) again.”
‘Suguru’ speaks up. “Thank you for— Allowing us to experience it again.” He’s grateful. The most he’s ever been, the most he’s ever felt ever since your passing.
Thank you. But— It’s only goodbye for now.
“It was nice meeting the both of you!” You’re bowing politely as you wave.
(The younger Suguru is finally smiling. Even if it’s just a little.)
“We’ll see you soon! Wait for us!” A salute and a bright grin. And in a flash, they have disappeared.
…what?
masterlist
Notes:
If you don’t get it, your current Satoru and Suguru have experienced what their younger counterparts have been through.
Younger Gojo and Geto have been watching every move you’ve been making. Keep that in mind if you ever reread this, haha.
During dinner, younger Gojo and Geto decided to share a bowl together since Geto hasn’t been able to eat a full meal without throwing up. It was the first time in a while he’s eaten so much. When Gojo saw how much he was eating, he asked for a separate bowl for himself.
Geto Suguru thinks he’s pretty handsome in this world. Would…you have liked someone like that too? His Satoru certainly does. He’s seen the shifty, almost shy gaze his Gojo threw the older Geto. Maybe he will grow out his hair.
“Aww, I was such an adorable brat!~” His hands are placed upon his cheeks as he cooed, watching as his husband and yourself cleared the plates.
“Hmm. I suppose you must’ve lost all that cuteness in your youth, wouldn’t you agree, darling?.” Suguru’s cooing back at him from the kitchen with a laugh, his body turning to you to ask for your opinion.
“His younger self was certainly so cute… But I suppose my answer depends on whether he helps with the dishes today.” You’re teasing him right back as you slowly wash the plate.
“W-what? Fine, I’m coming! Call me adorable, pleaseee!”
#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#satosugu x reader#geto suguru x reader#jjk angst#gojo x reader#geto x reader
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lobotomy commission
|| jing yuan x gn!reader || T || love sick hopefully lovers || wc: 3.9k || ao3 ||
The Xianzhou Alliance has... never allowed lobotomies? Why are you so insistent on receiving one?
(The General, the Divine Foresight.)
minors, antis, and ageless blogs dni
a/n: oh mister general jing yuan you have me so damn heart eyes. here's a lil sweet treat!!!!
CW: fluff, friends to lovers, jing yuan being a bit silly, alcohol consumption, FLUFF, a bit of crack being taken seriously
"Lady Fu, I need to be put down." Your cheek hits the low table. You feel pathetic. It's a Thursday and you're teary-eyed after far too little wine to be in such a state. You sniffle.
"No one is 'putting you down'!" Fu Xuan huffs from the other side, patting your arm. "It's rare that you’re this mopey. What’s troubling you?"
"I am not 'mopey'. I need a lobotomy. Which of the commissions would handle this procedure?"
Lady Fu frowns, clicks her tongue, and sighs your name, “A lobotomy, really?
"Yes, exactly. As soon as possible, preferably.” You down the rest of your cup and restlessly flip your phone screen up.
"This is particularly pathetic. Stop drinking and wallowing and just tell me what's wrong."
"Fu Xuan, you will scold me." You push yourself up on the table and shake your head. "No, actually, you will fire me. You will send me to my office this very instant, force me to pack up my things, and turn in my permissions. I'll be out of a job. Then, I'll be homeless. then—"
"No, nuh-uh, no more dramatics!" Fu Xuan slaps a hand over your mouth. You're glad you’re seated in a private corner of the bar, as this is a rather pathetic display on both of your parts. "Please just tell me, what’s the matter?”
Your dilemma.
"I like the General."
Fu Xuan frowns, expression pinched, and her hand falls heavily onto the table. "That... isn’t exactly new information? Even if it’s a... questionable call of taste, the general is handsome. Occasionally charming when he isn’t being an oaf on purpose. I don’t think having a bit of a crush on the Divine Foresight is anything unusual. Half of the population of the Luofu holds the same opinion.
“Okay, but,” you unlock your phone, a ceramic, cat-shaped charm swinging from the vase as you wobble. “What if the General were to return my feelings? And he invited me for a walk and a meal tomorrow evening?”
Fu Xuan's jaw drops. "You're joking."
"I'm not,” you whine and slide your phone across the table.
...
Divine Foresight ��:
Are you free tomorrow evening? I know a terrace that has a splendid view of the overlook near the Cinnabar Eyeline. I would be delighted to take you to it and share a meal after,
Divine Foresight 🦁:
If you'll have me :3c
...
“Oh... wow.” Fu Xuan looks shocked. It’s hard to shock her, but she does tend to avoid divining the destiny of those she is close to (unless entirely necessary.) Her intuition regardless of mathematics and astral geometry is, however, keen. Yet her eyes are wide and she struggles to gather her words. “What a menace.”
“I know.”
“The General is rarely so forward. I’ve never heard of him being so forward.”
“I know.”
“Except, perhaps—”
“With me?” You rub your cheeks. They’re warm from the wine.
“Only you. Though this is particularly... telling. I’m sure it’s sincere.”
“I would agree.” Your stomach flutters, and you swallow the feeling down.
Fu Xuan narrows her eyes and says your name, mouth in a thin line, "You haven't replied."
“And that’s why I need the lobotomy.” You swallow. “I’m going to turn him down.”
“WHAT?!”
You need another drink.
Fu Xuan clearly does not. Her cheeks flush rosy pink as she slaps her hands on the low table. “Why would you reject him? Even if he’s a scoundrel— he is genuine.”
“I know, that’s why I can’t accept his... proposition.”
Despite knowing that Jing Yuan serially denies any potential suitors or daring admirers. You know that it has always been like this— from the time long ago when he first gained rank, to his ‘withered age’ as he self-deprecating refers to himself now. He is always kind about his rejections, you’ve witnessed one or two of them, but he never even entertains the idea of romantic partnership. You’ve never heard him mention it or any desires.
So, for him to so bluntly ask you on a date—
He couldn’t be more clear with his feelings.
“You’re a fool.”
“Now, you’re getting it.” You pour yourself another glass of plum wine. Your shared bottle is nearly empty. “This is why I need the lobotomy.”
Fu Xuan watches you drink your glass in a single go. Her brows are pinched and her arms are crossed. Her shoulders sag a moment later.
“I do believe I understand your reasoning, and I don’t think it’s lobotomy-worthy.”
“... High praise.”
“[Name].”
“Alright, alright. I’m sorry.” You laugh behind your palm. The world feels sticky and bouncy, all at once. You crave the respite of your own bed. “I can’t accept his proposition in the form of a text. I mean, Lady Fu, he's the most powerful man on the Luofu. He is renowned in all fields of battle, strategic, and social graces. He’s kind. He probably like, kisses babies on Sundays at the markets."
"He does not."
"You never know!" You groan. "That's all to say that I won't accept an invitation to a date with this little effort put into it."
"... Because it's a text?"
"Because it's a text." You nod.
Fu Xuan pauses, then sighs.
“I can’t decide if that makes you a fool or not.” Her hair is frizzing up with the humidity. "Perhaps you have a point, the General is old enough to know and have some decorum when going about these things."
"Maybe he's a virgin? But like, for dating."
"I'd have to check... certain records. Archives. To confirm or deny that."
You wilt, “He probably isn’t. I’m being foolish.”
“No, you’re not.” Fu Xuan smooths a hand over your cheek with a frown.
"Lady Fu," you cry and wish you were at home. In bed. Maybe you should block his number. "You're supposed to say, 'You absolutely are, my most beloved junior, I will schedule your lobotomy and—’"
"No more talk of lobotomies, please."
"Fine, fine." you sigh and finish off your final cup as Lady Fu does as well. "Do you think I'm nuts for turning him down?"
"... No, I don't." Fu Xuan looks shy for a moment. A lot more human than her lofty station implies. "I don't doubt that... Jing Yuan has feelings for you. I see how he looks at you. But he ought to romance you a bit. A text is low effort. You should reply regardless though."
"I'm going to, I just needed some courage. And moral support." You give her a soft smile and tap back into your messages. Fu Xuan practically crawls around the table to your side. She leans her head on your shoulders and her eyes droop. You take a heavy inhale, then exhale, attempt to focus your blurry vision and craft.
...
You:
General, though I'm flatered by your offer, I will need to decline. Though I will ackknowledge what I would imagine (and hope)) to be your genun
You:
geuine
You:
gennuie
You:
genuine
You:
feelings, I cannot accept an invitation in the form of a text message. I must be wooed.
You:
lady Fuu says "if you are capable of such things"
You:
pls don't fire her she's a good boss and so nice
You:
[picture from XX/XX/XXXX @ 2:14 AM]
...
The next morning is hell. Hell. You wished you had undergone your requested lobotomy. It certainly feels like someone has stuck metal rods into your brain, with the migraine pounding the back of your eyes. Maybe a hangover this bad is somewhat equivalent to a lobotomy. Your memory of your night prior is... cloudy, to say the least. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth as you manage to down a glass of water and a handful of peachy-colored pills. You speed walk to the Divination Commission, shooting Fu Xuan an apologetic “sorry, running late, forgive me 🙏" text.
You mentally pat your drunk self on the back. After you sent your... rejection (ouch) to the General, you muted his messages and deleted the thread. No evidence, no way to feel awkward about it sober. And no way to dwell on it either. Besides, you hardly remember what you said to him after your last glass of wine. It’s hazy in your memory.
It was... perhaps a foolish way to go about things. You certainly could have approached the General and talked about it, but he sometimes spoke in circles about matters of the heart. Maybe... maybe you felt too fragile to dance that dance, if it came to that. Maybe, you were a bit overwhelmed by his invitation. You know all too well that he does not let himself be pursued. He does not pursue others.
You feel blind-sided by the whole thing.
But that doesn’t matter— because you cleanly rejected him and your only repercussion is a hangover that you’re sure Fu Xuan is twinning.
And besides, it’s better that you rejected him. He’s of such a high— highest station. He wouldn’t have time for you, surely. You... have gotten used to your entirely and completely platonic, twice-a-month lunch dates and the occasional star chess lesson (where he never lets you win but you swear you'll give him a run for his money.) But it's fine. You can let go of those things, along with your feelings for the General.
It's better this way.
You think these thoughts somewhat confidently until you arrive at the Divination Commission and find a crowd swarming the central platform under the Matrix of Prescience Ultima. Frowning, you try to weave through the edge of it to your office, where you conveniently have a few nutrition shakes stashed away that you most certainly need. You’re already late and this hangover needs to go. You have a full docket for the day that you need to make fuller so you don’t think about—
You nearly stumble when you hear a rich, familiar, roll of laughter. You freeze, slowly turning to the sound. A crown of fluffy hair peaks above the small crowd, a red ribbon waving in the breeze.
Absolutely fucking not.
You duck, just in case, and try to creep below the crowd. You probably look ridiculous, but you absolutely cannot see Jing Yuan. You can’t. Your poorly-thought out, hungover plan of not caring about the General does somewhat heavily rely on not seeing the man. You trip over over your own feet and barely catch yourself so as to not tumble to the ground.
Jing Yuan calls your name and
You freeze before jolting to your full height a moment later. The gaggle of your coworkers part enough so that you’re able to see him— lit so well and handsomely in the morning sun, smiling so easily with... perhaps a hint of mischief in the curve of his lips.
He waves with his free hand, while a massive bouquet is pillowed in the crook of his arm.
The flowers are beautiful— off-ship exotics, clearly. The colors are all bright oranges and vibrant blues. Thinner stems are topped with bundles of white, delicate flowers that break the barrage of colors. They look fresh, like they’d been cut this morning. Fu Xuan stands next to him, clearly hungover herself and close to popping a blood vessel. It’s incredibly rare that the General do anything in the mornings, especially causing a commotion in the Divination Commission.
Jing Yuan, who is more than likely aware of this, looks entirely unbothered. Actually, he glows as he calls your name, gentle and rich, and the sound of it hits you in the chest, “There you are.”
"Here I am." You're not. You need that lobotomy. You nod to him curtly, "General. Is there something I can help you with today?"
Fu Xuan looks like she’s going to expire right there on the platform.
Jing Yuan cocks his head knowingly, “There is, yes. I have a rather personal matter to discuss in private with you. Are you available?”
You have things on your schedule. You can make yourself appear busy, if it means not dealing with the General you can’t really hide from and the beautiful bouquet in his arms. “Well—”
“They’re free.” Fu Xuan all but pushes you toward him. You regret covering her tab the night before. “Especially free, since I’ll be rescheduling our weekly meeting to tomorrow.”
“Is that really necessary—?” You laugh and wring your hands. You feel caught in the worst way. “General, will this personal discussion take much time? I am quite busy today—”
Jing Yuan, who has been watching your exchange with Fu Xuan wordlessly, looks a bit... crestfallen. It’s hard to tell on a man who holds himself like the General, but it’s there. A crease between his brows that’s slight, but visible and abnormal. Maybe he’s holding the bouquet a little tighter than he probably thought. There’s a sheen of sweat on his temple that, if asked, he would probably blame on the heat index for the day.
Your words die in your throat as you take him in and force yourself to meet his gaze. Honeyed and sad, a bit like a kicked dog.
“... I suppose, I could arrange a proper appointment with you. Perhaps it was uncouth of me to expect such accommodations to be made for me last minute. I apologize.” You can hear his tone change. It may be imperceptible to someone else, but you notice the shift in him. Gone is the playful lilt and air of mischief, on his a veneer of niceties that you... had forgotten he loses around you.
Something in your chest aches.
You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Floundering. Jing Yuan adjusts his hold on the bouquet—
“Enough of this.” Lady Fu shakes her head. She shoos a hand toward the lingering onlookers. “Back to work, now. Don’t eavesdrop either. I’ll know if you do.”
(Debatable, but it’s Fu Xuan’s favorite threat.)
Once the crowd has dispersed, she turns toward you too. You needed that lobotomy, like, yesterday.
“I will make the necessary changes to your schedule so you can speak privately for as long as you need." She points at you, then Jing Yuan. “Sort this.”
The General raises an eyebrow at her. She’s bold to speak in such a way to someone above her own station, but Lady Fu doesn't dare back down. She glares at him, then you, partially covering her mouth to block Jing Yuan’s view before mouthing, “FIX THIS!!!!”
...
On the way to your office, you walk side by side, in silence. You’re trying to think of the right words to say.
“... Are you sure you have time for this, General?” You ask him, softly. “I don’t mean to ask as a slight— just— I don’t want to inconvenience you is all.”
“Of course.” He replies easily. You turn down the long, quiet corridor that leads to your office. It’s tucked away in a corner of the divination Commission, facing outward toward the Arbor’s stump with tall windows providing a sunlit view. You’re glad you don’t have to look at him as you unlock the door with a thick-looking key. “This is a rather pertinent, time-sensitive matter we’re discussing. My own schedule is not consequential in this case. Haste, moreso.”
You laugh under your breath.
“Great Lan, Qingzu is going to kill me.” You sigh before pushing the door open with a shake of your head. Perhaps a smile curls on your lips. Who’s to say. “Did you at least not leave a pile of paperwork for her to delegate in your stead?”
“And what, diminish the time I have for my afternoon nap with busy work?” Jing Yuan laughs. The sound fills you from the bottom up and you want to choke on it. You tear your gaze away from him. “Such a thing would be unhealthy, you know. I’m an old man.”
“An old man who needs an ample amount of beauty sleep.” You tease him, it’s easy to. You speak before you even have a chance to think about the warm nature of your words. The meaning behind the bouquet in his arms that he still hasn’t given to you.
Why Jing Yuan is in your office at all.
“... If this is about my texts my last night—”
“It is, partially.” Jing Yuan hums. “I’m afraid I’ve slighted you, and it’s of the utmost importance I correct my transgression.”
“That’s— That’s not necessary, General.” Your cheeks burn.
“It is. Entirely, in fact. Stating my intentions with you over text messages was... a poor choice on my part. I must apologize appropriately, don’t you think?
“I mean— that’s—” Your words flounder in your mouth. “Kind of you.”
It is kind of him. He certainly doesn’t need to be here, in your cramped office, with a bouquet that costs close to what you make in a day of work. He doesn’t need to be showing a sincere, lovesick smile as he speaks. He’s showing you a card he’s kept close to his chest. One you, perhaps, guessed he had, but hadn’t intended to ever see.
He presents you with the bouquet, “You said you must be wooed, and I am here to begin that process explicitly.”
"... I said what?" You’re going to burst into flames.
“I thought you may not recall your exact words. Did you and Lady Fu have a fun night together?” Jing Yuan chuckles, and you flush so hot you feel almost faint. “You said that I must, and I quote, ‘woo you’.”
He smiles at you, the glint in his eye a bit more mischievous. More knowing. He’s toying with you.
“I— no— I’m so sorry, General.” You cover your face with your hands and back into your desk. “Forget I said that. Please forget I said anything.”
“Please, use my name.” He corrects, gently. “I’d prefer not to forget. You have a point, I should have stated my intentions clearly and to you in person.”
You peek at him between your fingers. He still holds the bouquet out to you, like he’s trying to lure a cagey cat in for a pet rather than make a confession. You feel out of sorts. Off kilter. That said— it is nice to hear him in person. Your heart has been oscillating between fluttering and pounding.
Jing Yuan tilts his head sweetly at you. You take the bouquet from him and examine it closer. There’s yellow and lilac pollen dusted on the filaments, fresh and fragrant.
“Jing Yuan, then.” You reply to him, softly. It’s hardly the first time you’ve called him by his name, rather than a title, but he preens when you speak regardless. “... So, you intend to woo me then?”
“Entirely.” Jing Yuan hums to himself, looking quite proud. “I do fully recant my offer I sent previously. Though I would be happy to lounge with you in the terraces and see some lovely views, I’ve secured a reservation for this evening at a lovely restaurant in the Exalting Sanctum, if you would accompany me.”
Your stomach flips pleasantly. You can’t help the little smile that’s twitching over your lips. You take care to not crush the bouquet in your arms, despite the urge to squeeze it to your chest, just to tamp down the thumping of your heart. Stroking your thumb over the silken petal of lush, round-petaled bloom, you let yourself smile.
You can practically hear Jing Yuan holding his breath. His eyes look hopeful and young.
“I accept,” you reply. “Consider me wooed.”
“It was that easy?” Jing Yuan’s voice takes that air of smugness that you know is a farce but you still can’t help but to approach him and bat your hands at his chest.
“I already like you, you know,” You laugh. “I was more offended that you wouldn’t face me and tell me your intentions. I hardly know the General to be a coward. I was a bit slighted.”
Jing Yuan catches your wrists in one of his hands and gently holds them against your sternum. His fingers lay over the thump of your heart; you wonder if he can feel it. You feel pleasantly woozy when you meet his eyes and all their intensity. Intention.
“I apologize.” He speaks smoothly, easily. Perhaps ducking his head down to be closer to your own. “It’s quite difficult to proposition someone so beautiful and kind.”
“Ah, so the General was hiding behind a screen, then?” You laugh over the heat rising in your cheeks. “I’ve never known you to be a coward.”
Jing Yuan hums, and you pop up on the corner of your desk. He’s close enough to feel the heat of him, and see the threading of his uniform and the glitter woven into the rich fabrics.
“Hm, I wouldn’t say it has anything to do with cowardice.” Jing Yuan shakes his head. His breath is warm over your cheeks. “I planned to tell you my intentions of courting you at the Terraces, once you accepted. I, perhaps, was too presumptuous in expecting you to assume beyond my initial ask. I should have been more clear.”
You stifle a laugh and flex your hands, still held in his firm, but kind grip.
“Jing Yuan, if you continue to speak to me so directly, I’ll demand you take me out now and not this evening.”
“Is that so?”
“Entirely.” You struggle to maintain eye contact and not let your gaze drift down to his lips. “I’m not used to you speaking so clearly, only your riddles.”
“What riddles?” He tilts his head, curly, a sweet smile on his face that is far too mischievous for who he is expected to be.
“Oh, you know—”
“Do I?” Jing Yuan asks. He steps between your thighs, the width of him forcing your legs wider. As if your flush could be any more intense. “You must tell me more over lunch. I’ll send a message to Lady Fu and clear your schedule?”
“... She did say to take as long as we need to sort this,” You soften, a bit intimated, if only for a moment. “Is this sorted?”
Jing Yuan hums, “You did say you were wooed. I’d consider that fairly sorted.”
“And you’ll have me?” You ask him, daring to slide your arms over his shoulders. The contact bubbles up months of tension over Star Chess boards (during games that, perhaps, were not entirely platonic).
“I’d be honored.” Jing Yuan’s voice sounds sweet, more quiet than you’ve heard before, like it’s just for you to hear.
There’s an edge to it all still— something raw and new that will need to be tempered. That is the nature of immortality and the relationships and partnerships that come with it. Complexes develop, heal, and grow differently within the self. You’ve already gamed out a few of Jing Yuan’s (a cursed Master who he will only reference in melancholy, unrequited love he was too young for, so many tragedies that he somehow manages to give himself for not preventing). He is perceptive. You’re sure he has put together some of yours as well.
For now, there’s a promise of good things. There’s the feel of him pressing his lips to yours, gentle but unyielding, strung with a mutual yearning that, in retrospect, would’ve been a shame to crush and hide away. There’s the warmth of him so close, and closer still when you drag him closer by the nape of his neck.
You can feel his grin against your lips, and you mirror it easily.
No riddles, only a fragrant bouquet and intention.
#lore writes#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan x you#jing yuan reader insert#hsr x reader#im very in love with him#he is so husband#feeling very soft and yearning about him lately AAAAH#enjoy :''^)
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Nosebleed(s)
W.C - 1,6k
The moment you hear the resounding crack of your nose, you know something is wrong, seriously wrong. Pain sprouts from your nose out towards your eyes in unsettling waves and you feel how a warm liquid seeps down from your nose and into your mouth, half open in a silent scream.
The metallic taste of the sticky liquid clues you into what it was, the red staining your hands in an unsettling way. You can feel the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes as your surroundings fall away, the pain much too overwhelming as your face throbs.
Your knees find the ground in an instant, the turf scratching uncomfortably against the tough skin. The rest of your body soon follows in its path, meeting the ground painfully.
Your already red jersey stains with a deeper shade of red as the waterfall of blood continues its rampage. The warm blood soon transfers onto the vibrant green grass, making it an ugly greenish brown color as you shove your forehead into it, willing the pain to go away.
Only moments after your form dropped onto the hard ground, you can feel pain spreading on the left side of your face, distracting you a smidge from the pain in the middle of your face. The scratching sensation disappears after a second or two but leaves behind paralyzing pain that makes the wail stuck in your throat escape.
Blood mixes with sweat and drips dangerously into your sensitive eyes, something you can feel as the burning sensation in your eyes blinds you.
In the span of a few seconds, you had gone from running all over the pitch and creating chances left and right to laying on the ground twisting and turning as the pain creates spots in the little vision you had.
The last thing you could feel before everything went black was a hand giving you a soft pat on your shoulder and someone trying to turn you over onto your back.
The limp nature of your body concerns the Chelsea player who’d taken you down, the blood not noticed by her yet. She stands up, dusting herself off all while thinking that you were fine.
It’s when the whistle blows and she notices that you still haven’t moved from your position that she starts to become slightly concerned. She bows down, putting her hand on your shoulder softly as she waits for you to react, only you don’t.
The referee approaches with a slight jog as she notices the small commotion happening on the field. All the players' eyes follow after her and soon after they notice the pool of deep red appearing around your head.
The Arsenal players rush towards you, pushing the Chelsea player out of their way as they crowd around you. A few of them turn you on your back, gasping at the horrific scene that might as well have come directly from a horror movie. Blood covers the majority of your face as deep scratches on your left side continue to seep out metallic liquid at an alarming rate.
There is a gurgling sound coming from your throat and your girlfriend drops down to her knees worriedly by your head. Leah pulls your head onto her lap and with the help of a few teammates, she turns you on your side looking on in worry as a few drops of blood slip out from between your lips.
Somewhere in the far distance she can faintly hear how Katie argues with half of the Chelsea team and the referee to card the player that took you down, but she tunes it out, all too focused on you and the continuous flow of blood from your nose and cuts. Leah strips her shirt off in a desperate attempt at stopping the bleeding, pressing it firmly to the side of your face, the blood staining yet another shirt.
Leah presses a soft, reassuring kiss to the only piece of skin she can find that isn’t smeared in blood, muttering soft reassurances to you as she strokes your hair carefully. She doesn’t want to mess you up any further.
Soon enough, the once steady shallow breaths turn labored and deep, the puffs of oxygen mixing with whines as the pain hits you like a truck. Your face feels sticky and dirty as you regain consciousness, the soft and familiar feeling of your girlfriend's thighs making everything better.
Your senses are in overdrive as you feel everything all at once, the roughness of the turf beneath the rest of your body and everyone’s eyes on you, the smell of sweat and metal mixing together in an unpleasant symphony and how everything just hurts.
“Make it stop, please Lee make it stop.” You manage to get out from between clenched teeth and chapped lips, the whisper being near inaudible due to the surrounding noise and yet, Leah could hear you perfectly fine.
“The medics are coming love, don’t worry you’ll get some help. See they’re nearly here.” She dips her head to whisper in your ear, fearing that the rather obvious concussion would get worse if she were to talk normally.
She continues to reassure you, telling you that the help was near when it wasn’t in fact near, the slight tremor to her voice telling you as much. Leah grasps the hand that comes up to touch your face in her own, her fingers hugging yours tightly in a comforting gesture.
After what feels like an eternity, but in reality closer to minutes, the medical personnel finally show up. Leah wants to scream and question why in hell it took so long for them to get there, but she realizes that it’ll help no one, not you nor the medics if she did. She lets them run through the concussion protocols, and as it turns out you in fact have one.
The garment she placed over your cuts gets removed, the shirt having formed a glue-like bond to the cuts on your face which in turn reopens the cuts and lets the blood start to flow yet again. You groan in pain as the normally stinging sensation instead turns out to be a sharp and stabbing pain.
The medics take one look at the deep scratches made from the Chelsea player’s studs and decide that they’re deep enough for you to need stitches. The continued groaning and moaning pierces Leah’s ears and she keeps her hold on your hand firm as the medics wrap your head in blindingly white gauze.
Red spots soon appear on the light bit of fabric, looking more like an abstract artwork than a football player’s head, and you can feel how fingers prod at your nose. Your eyes start to water once again and as one single tear slips down your face, it leaves a noticeable path of unstained skin.
They decide that it’s broken fairly quickly, sticking two wads of cotton up your nose to stave off the bleeding a bit.
The grass feels pokey in your hands as you put them to the ground, pushing yourself up to your feet with help from your girlfriend who keeps you steady with her arm hanging firmly around your waist. Your body sways dangerously as you put your arm around her shoulders, steadying yourself while the other one goes around one of the medics shoulders.
The two escort you to the sidelines and as you reach them, you feel Leah let go of you, Jen quickly taking her place so as to not let you fall down. Leah presses a quick kiss to your lips, the blood having been wiped off earlier, before she tugs on her new shirt and runs off towards her place on the pitch.
The rest of the game is played with surprising vigor from Arsenal, the red side scoring a few more goals in your honor and as soon as the whistle signaling the end of the game blows, Leah legs it to the medical room.
The door slams open, leaving you to turn your head quickly and spot your girlfriend standing in the doorway panting slightly. A smile paints your now clean face as you open your arms for her to enter, and she springs into them carefully so as to not put pressure on any of your cuts and bruises.
“Are you okay? It doesn’t hurt too much right? You’re coming home with me, I’m not letting you drive let alone be alone at your apartment.” Leah rambles, her nerves quickly becoming noticeable as she rants to you, cupping your face in her soft hands.
“Lee, stop worrying, I just have a pretty bad concussion and my nose is broken but I’m fine. I love you so much babe.” You respond to the pretty blonde, a small smirk situated on your swollen and bruised face.
“Okay, you're still coming home with me, I’m not letting you out of my sight for the next few weeks.” Leah tells you sternly, but the loving look in her eyes betrays her as she looks down at you where you’re sitting on your bed.
“I can agree to that, I guess”
Six days later
Looking down at the field from your place in the nosebleeds is an ethereal feeling. The club had been nice enough to give you some seats with an incredible view to watch the rest of its fixtures until you were back to training again.
Sitting in the nosebleeds, watching your team destroy another team was bittersweet as you’d much rather be down there playing with them, but you had a much better view of your girlfriend which sweetened the deal oh so much…
a/n; honestly this is so shitty, but i felt like posting something
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AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.
p — LEE JENO x female! reader. g — gang leader! jeno, actress! reader, humor, tension tension tension, jeno gets kidnapped by his celebrity crush, this is stupid, this is dumb, don't take this seriously. w — swearing, kidnapping, morally dubious characters HAHHAHA. 935 words.
note — happy birthday jeno. to the anon that sent the trope list curated for me, this is your fault. take responsibility. the prompt "accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss" suddenly terrorized my brain while i was studying. enjoy.
when lee jeno opens his eyes, a dull ringing in his ears, he sees nothing but the faint impression of a lightbulb burning through the sack covering his head. it’s dark. there’s an echo when he grunts and tries to move, but upon feeling the rope pressed against his wrists, the stiffness of his shoulders and the metal scratching of the chair against the rough ground— he’s quick to understand the situation he’s in.
the last thing he remembers, he was about to board a plane to japan. to spend a few months lying low after the particularly risky job his gang had to undertake not too long ago.
seems like someone managed to sniff him out before he could flee.
splash!
“wake up, you slimy son of a bitch.”
cold water hits, seeping into the fabric covering his face and crawling down to his collarbones. now, considering his line of work, jeno isn’t too fazed by this situation. he has a lot of enemies. maybe this one’s from a rival gang. could be a relative seeking revenge for a brother’s cracked skull, or some shit. doesn’t matter. he’s not gonna stay sitting for long anyway.
“did you really think you could cheat on me and run away scot free?”
cheat? the sack gets thrown off from his head, a hand yanking a handful of his hair to pull his head back and he lets out a grunt. the chair is tipped back. jesus fucking christ, that felt personal. but when the sudden illumination stops blinding him, and he can finally see who the hell had the guts to jump and kidnap him, he’s a little taken aback.
jeno has a lot of enemies. the list goes on and on.
“use your fucking mouth, bast—”
but he’s pretty sure that the darling angel of south korea’s film industry isn’t on that list.
jeno watches as the vivid scorn and disgust in your eyes slowly meld into confusion, then realization, then a slow but sure descent into panic alongside the loosening of your grip.
“oh.”
must be the skills of an award winning actress. he feels almost a hint of disappointment when you stop pulling on the roots of his damp hair.
“oh, shit. one moment.”
clang! the chair he’s tied to settles once more into the ground with a clatter, and jeno watches as you quickly secure a distance between you and him, pulling your phone out of your sweats while biting the tips of your thumbnail. it’s a little funny seeing the nation’s sweetheart pacing back and forth all jittery in what looks like a basement— maybe your basement. as far as jeno can remember, you’re always casted for romance films. those feel-good, slice of lives and the pocari sweat commercial you once did echoes in the back of his head. but maybe you have a hidden knack for some thriller.
he starts fiddling with the ropes tied around his wrists right at the moment you screech into your phone. dispatch would have a field day if they see this.
“you got the wrong guy! my ex isn’t this hot!”
his fingers slip. his skin scratches the rough threads of the rope.
“i paid you useless fucks a shit ton of money to get the job done, but you can’t even get— ugh! nevermind. just go and bring me the actual son of a bitch i asked for this time.”
the knot is almost loose. this is quite the show. it’s better than all the movies he’s seen of you.
“what?! hello?! what do you mean you can’t help me anymore, what about our—”
drop. jeno gets up from the chair. he stretches his joints, neck cracking, watching as you sputter out a trove of profanities at your phone. his clothes are still damp from the water you splashed him earlier. maybe he should have a bit of fun first before leaving. it’s not everyday that you get to meet your celebrity crush.
“hey, dollface,” he calls out. you freeze. you look at him with the drop of a needle, eyes growing a little bit wider when you realize he should be sitting down. damn, they really need to cast you in a grittier film. “you should pay a bit more attention when you have someone hostage.”
a beat of silence.
“uhm,” your voice croaks. jeno takes a step towards you. you take a step back. “listen, haha, there has been a misunderstanding.”
your steps stutter a little, moving back and back and you swallow nervously, looking at him with almost sheepishly— a sense of feigned bravery in the midst of retreat, teeth tugging on the skin of your lips. “oh, yeah?” he says, and you visibly rattle. you’re prettier like this than when you’re batting your eyes and flirting at the camera. you’re definitely prettier.
“yes, ahaha, there was a minor switch-up, you see i— i didn’t mean to...uh, escort you from the airport, i actually meant to target someone else, and— o–oh, and there’s a wall behind me. oops, haha. do you mind backing away a bit, um—”
“how about i help you with the ex boyfriend problem you have?”
the tables turn. it’s him digging his face up against yours this time, but the mention of your ex strikes a chord. you’re looking at him, gaze unbreaking. he can feel your shallow breaths on his skin.
“who are you exactly?”
“someone who can do the job better that the fuckers you sent me, definitely,” he chuckles. “how about it?”
he won’t ask for much. maybe just an autograph in return.
AN UNLIKELY FANMEETING.
© hannie-dul-set, 2023.
#jeno x you#lee jeno x reader#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#nct dream x you#nct dream sc#nct dream scenarios#nct sce#nct scenarios#jeno x reader#nct drabbles#nct au#jeno au#this is not proofread btw fuck it we ball!!!
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Judd smut in Y/n's car? 😈
JUDD SMUT IN Y/N’S CAR !!!
Tags: fem! Reader, porn without plot, well I mean they talk like a little before they fuck, driving under the influence?, okay literally don’t do that pls idk why they did it in this fic, being low key inappropriate in front of kids, more weed smoking 🫶, judd has a HUGE HORSE COCK, he also degrades Y/n quite a bit, also like semi public sex??, it’s literally in a car, and once again very unprotected sex, PLEASE WRAP IT!!
Summary: they fuck in Y/n’s car after Judd got his taken away lmfao
Author’s note: SORRY this took me so long to write for some reason,, I hate school so much oml 😡 I was originally going to finish and post this yesterday but like then I got a bunch of unsolicited dick pics and I got scared and didn’t feel like writing smut anymore 🧍🏻🏃🏻♀️ anyways,, I’m back today and I’m fine, just traumatized. I love being a woman fr 💩
Judd smut in Y/n’s car
Word count; 3,9K
(smut under the cut)
Judd took a long drag of his cigarette, exhaling most of it through his nose but having the decency to turn his head slightly and exhaling the rest through the barely opened window.
He flicked the burned tip out the window as well; cinder falling down and gathering in the cracks of where the window sat in the door.
“You drive like a fucking grandma— drive faster,” He instructed.
You didn’t turn your head from the road. “I’m actually driving exactly what the speed limit allows. Fuck off. “ You grumbled.
The two of you were on the way back from one of Judd’s deals, which you were almost late to because Judd decided to leave 10 minutes behind schedule, forgetting you had to drive and refused to go too far over the speed limit. The deal itself had been pretty uninteresting; you sat in the car and watched as Judd handed the guy a plastic back and he handed your boyfriend the money.
He got his car hijacked (parentsjacked) two weeks ago, because he got caught lighting an old building on fire. You were there too, actually, too drunk and stoned to care in the moment; but because Judd could be a pretty good boyfriend at times he covered up for you.
“Yeah. Whatever. I need at least one of us to have a car.” He said, when you asked him about it.
Immediately after, you had been prompted to Judd’s personal Uber. Not to mention he had to hide most of his,, not legal substances in the trunk of your car, hence why you were now even more adamant on following traffic rules as to not get pulled over by the cops.
(Or found out by your mom, who already wasn’t a very big fan of your boyfriend)
His raccoons had also made themselves at home in your backseat, at the moment the two of you were alone in the car but often there would be a couple of them napping in the back.
Judd grumbled something in response that you didn’t quite hear, but you retorted; “Shut the fuck up. Why can’t you just act like a passenger princess, or something,”
He opened and closed his mouth, cigarette hanging on his lips. “What the fuck did you just call me?”
You smiled a little. “That’s what you are, babe. You’re my passenger princess,���
Blinking slowly, he put the cigarette out in the ashtray he had placed between the front seats and stared at you blankly. “What the hell are you talking about? You think I look like a princess?” He was baffled.
You suppressed a chuckle, and turned your head quickly to gauge his reaction. “I forgot you’re too edgy to use tiktok,” You murmured. When you opened it on your phone, he would sometimes stand behind you and glare at the screen over your shoulder, but that was all the exposure he’d had to the app.
Judd frowned. “Why don’t you pull over and I’ll show you who the real fucking princess is.” It was half a threat, but none that you took too seriously.
“Oh, yeah? You’d have to pay extra for that, Uber drivers don’t normally fuck their costumers.” You answered coyly, but he didn’t find your quip nearly as funny as you did. You turned back to the road, making sure you weren’t about to run into any middle schoolers as you neared Bridgeton Middle School. Judd didn’t say anything– but you felt his large hand slither up your leg, enclosing around your thigh and squeezing the fat there softly.
He looked out the window to his side, refusing to grant you attention while he continued to massage your thigh; and glaring as you pulled into the parking lot. Judd had convinced you to skip school that day, so you could drive him to his stupid deal and you could smoke and get McDonald’s after. The first part of his plan went without a hitch, until you got incredibly high-horny and you ended up fucking in the bathroom at McDonald’s as well. Unfortunately, you had to leave sooner than intended; in a daze and desperate to sober up before you went and picked Jessi up from school. Coincidentally Nick as well, since, you know, Judd's parents took his car.
You parked and turned to Judd, crawling half over to his seat and forcing him to look at you. His glare lessened as he stared at your grinning face so close to his; leaning in. You kissed him softly once, then twice, then three times, giggling and pulling away whenever he chased you. He growled and the hand on your thigh went to your waist, he pulled you in and was just about to kiss you properly, forcefully and roughly when a series of knocks came to your window.
It was Jessi and Nick. You averted your head and let Judd kiss your cheek instead, gently pushing him back as you sat back down in your seat. You motioned for the two to come in.
Jessi opened the door, and allowed Nick to crawl inside first. “It smells like weed and junkfood in here.” She commented, a slight question in her statement as she crawled in, too, and closed the door behind her.
You turned your body halfway in your seat, coming to face her. “Sure.” You ignored her comment. “Had a good day at school?”
Both her and Nick nodded reluctantly. “Yeah. Can you help me with some maths-stuff later?” She asked and you wrinkled your nose; Maths was not something you were particularly good at, but you nodded and agreed to help her anyways.
Judd’s hand returned to your thigh and you glanced at him– he was staring blankly at the kids, but he met your eyes with raised eyebrows, indicating he wanted something from you. You hummed. “Hey, Jessi, how about hanging out at Nick’s house for a while?” You looked to Nick, who flushed slightly and nodded in agreement.
Jessi’s mouth tightened as she looked at Nick, and then you. She new that when you asked her that, you really meant; “Hey, Jessi, it would be more convenient for me to drive straight to Judd’s house so we can fuck.”
“C’mon Jessi, we can watch a movie or something,” Nick added hopefully. You smiled, a bit tightly as you looked at Jessi and she reluctantly uncrossed her arms and agreed. “Okay, fine. But can we do that stupid biology assignment together then, instead?”
Nick agreed happily, and the two quickly got a rather animated conversation started. You drove out of the parking lot, Judd’s hand increasing in height on your thigh till he was toying with the hem of your skirt. You flushed, gently pushing his hand down a couple times so Jessi and Nick wouldn’t see, but it ultimately was a losing battle.
The two’s conversation turned to background noise as you drove towards your destination, as fast as you could; now way faster than the speed limit allowed. Judd’s incessant caress of your thigh made your heart beat so much faster and your finger’s grip the steering wheel so much tighter— you could feel him staring hungrily at you the whole time too, seizing you up with that small twitch of his lips that meant he was going to fuck you till your legs were jelly.
‘Step on that goddamn speeder, sugar! Look how he’s eyeing you.. like a big, hungry wolf,’ Connie’s claws locked around the back of your seat, and she moaned when his nails slightly scratched at your fishnets; lifting them and making them slap against your thigh.
You gasped, and sent him a glare that bordered on a sultry pout. “I can’t,” you muttered to Connie. “I’ll actually run someone over if I go any faster,”
Your monstress shook the seat harder. ‘They won’t mind giving up their life for some sweet, sweet lovemaking baby~’ She purred and you glanced at her briefly, with a scandalised expression.
“I really don’t think you should be saying stuff like that,” You retorted, focused on evening out your breathing from the slow teasing of Judd’s warm hand. Then he leaned in, squeezing your thigh in a death grip and placed a long, slow kiss under your jaw
“You changed your mind about fucking your Uber costumer yet?” He drawled, deep voice dragging a whispering growl all the way up your spine.
You shivered. “I think I have,” you breathed back and felt him smile triumphantly against your neck.
He cackled darkly. “Good. You better drop the fucking attitude,” Then, he snapped your fishnets again, watching as thin, red lines appeared on your thigh.
Connie moaned loudly again, fanning her hands in front of her face before dramatically laying down on the floor of the car, between the front and back seats.
“Ew. Can you two not?” That time it was Nick speaking, arms crossed over his chest.
Jessi nodded in agreement; her gaze was locked on where Judd was touching your thigh, burning into you. Your boyfriend in question slowly retreated his hand, half turning in his seat to glare dissatisfied at your two passengers.
Nick shifted uncomfortably and whatever insult he had died on his tongue. “What? Are you fucking jealous or something?” He sneered.
The younger shrugged and looked away. “No.”
Judd grunted, gravely and deeply. “It’s not my fault you can’t get your little prick wet,” He wiggled his pinky finger for emphasis.
You failed to hold back a giggle and gently slapped his arm. “Don’t tell thirteen-year-olds to have sex, you ass,” You scolded, halfheartedly through and smiled as you came to a stop in front of the birch house.
“Okay, get out you two!” You called over your shoulder. “We’ll be right in— I’m just gonna park.” You bluffed, and didn’t miss the way Jessi rolled her eyes at you as she slammed the car door behind her.
Connie rose from the floor to sit in the middle seat in the back. ‘Yeah, park Judd’s dick right in your pussy!’ She drawled, making obscene gestures with her hands.
Judd was quick to point you to a nearby parking spot, concealed a bit by a willow tree with low-hanging branches. As soon as you were parked, you unbuckled your seatbelt and Judd was reaching for you.
He pulled you to him by your waist— settling you down over his lap, straddling him. You whimpered as you felt him against you, already straining in his pants. He grabbed greedy handfuls of your ass with one hand, having the other settle on the back of your neck and pulling your hair. He held your head in an iron grip, making sure you wouldn’t avoid his kiss this time around.
Then, he kissed you. Roughly, deeply, tongue invading your mouth almost instantly. You mewled as he bit your lower lip, arms wrapped around his neck and fingers gently pulling on the short hairs at the back of his head.
You were already moving your hips, without thinking about it and he wasted no time in aiding you; thrusting upwards while holding your hips down and helping you rock back and forth.
You were already quite sensitive from your earlier rough fuck in the McDonald’s bathroom, your clit swelled and started twitching almost instantly. The rough drag of denim on your panties was almost too much, but the sloshing of warmth in your lower belly kept you going— rutting yourself harder against him.
He moved from your lips, you let out a soft, whiny sigh. “You wanted it that bad, huh? You’re already so fuck-drunk,” He commented, that wicked smile pulling at his lips. He squeezed your asscheek hard. “Up.” He instructed, and shakily, you lifted yourself up to stand on your knees instead of sitting on him.
You held his shoulders for support, definitely not expecting him to bring both his hands under your skirt and roughly ripping your fishnets apart right under your pussy. He let them rip all the way down your thighs and you looked at him wide-eyed.
“I’ll get you new ones, baby.” He grinned, a bit coyly as he pushed your panties aside. His cold fingers gently brushed your folds and you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about your ruined tights. Your breathing hitched and you desperately bucked your hips, trying to get him to touch you further.
His other hand returned to your hip, to hold it in place and keep you from rutting yourself against his fingers. He gave a warning growl, brows drawing together as he concentrated on the task at hand. He teased your folds apart with his pointer, feeling how warm and wet you already were. You were pulsing, almost, starting to clench before his fingers even entered.
“Judd—“ You moaned. “Do— do something.” You pleaded with him.
Connie was going crazy behind you as well, both her and Maury were sitting in the backseat contributing to an animated conversation. Your monstress shook Maury by the shoulders, yelling at him to get Judd to do anything.
‘C’mon! Fist her already!’ Maury roared, kicking the seat you and Judd were sitting on.
Your boyfriend inhaled sharply, pressing his thumb to your swollen bud— forcing a breathy, drawn out whine out of you. He retaliated by pressing down harder, slowly moving his thumb in a circle that had you desperately bucking into his hand.
He could feel your warmth leaking, wetness gathering and threatening to fall before he finally, finally gave in and shoved a finger into you. He looked at you, drinking in your expression as he burrowed one, long finger into your cunt.
Connie cheered and you cried out Judd’s name. He made a ‘come hither’ motion, slightly scratching deep within your walls right where you needed him. He chuckled, darkly as you clenched around his finger.
“Want one more?” He asked— pressing down on your clit deliberately right as you were about to answer.
You nodded your head, burying your face in his shoulder. “Mhm! Judd— please!” You wiggled your hips in emphasis.
“Good girl.” He praised you, adding a second finger as promised. He pumped them for a little while, relishing in the moans you tried to conceal in his neck and grunting at the occasional bites you left.
Then, he suddenly stopped moving, but not withdrawing his fingers. You whined pathetically in protest. “Relax, slut.” He said. “Fuck yourself on my fingers,”
You didn’t need to be told twice, immediately you were bouncing up and down on his hand; trying to bring them as far into your pussy as possible. You clawed at Judd’s shirt, pulling the neckline down so you could properly bite him and conceal most of your whiny moans.
He groaned, ripping his head back and allowing you more access to ravage his neck. You could feel yourself dripping, warm liquid gathering in Judd’s palm and running down his forearm. He pressed your clit harder, feeling your cunt clench tightly around his fingers— his cock ached at the thought of feeling your little pussy around him again.
The car filled with loud squelching sounds, every time you rose and fell back on his fingers. Your pace fastened in time with Judd’s assault on your clit and you cried out; “Please—please, more! Judd, please!”
“Yeah?” He drawled and you lifted your head from his neck slightly to nod your head. Then, he curled his fingers and touched a spot that had you seeing stars. You cried out, loudly, as his fingers began thrusting into you violently. Along with your combined forces, you moving your hips frantically and him rolling your clit with his thumb and scissoring his long fingers inside your pussy, you reached the edge quickly.
Judd sneered. “You gonna cum?” He knew the answer already, could feel it in the way your little pussy throbbed and clenched around his fingers.
Your thighs burned from your rapid movement, shaking as liquid flames consumed your belly. “S’good, s’good— yes,” you breathed, clawing at Judd’s chest.
He bend his fingers inside you again, breathing into your ear in his nice, deep voice. “Come on my fingers, pretty girl. C’mon.”
Again, you definitely did not need to be told twice. The coil in your tummy snapped, and you fell apart with a loud cry of your boyfriends name. He continued finger fucking you through your orgasm, until you were even puffier and so sensitive that you were shying away from his hands.
He grinned gleefully. “Good fucking girl,” he praised you, rubbing your clit in slow circles again, before finally pulling out and allowing you to rest on his knees.
You sat, feeling your own wetness drip underneath you as you tried to catch your breath— Judd however, wasted no time, unbuckling his pants and pulling his fat cock out.
You swallowed at the sight, how fucking hard he was and your pussy clenched again— as if it wasn’t already sore and abused. Subconsciously, you rutted your hips a bit forward, grinding on his knee as you watched him stroke himself. He hissed, hand tightly fisting the base of his cock and making its way to his leaking head; you timed your movements with his stroking.
“C’mere.” He grunted, hands leaving his swollen cock in favour of grabbing your hips and pulling you towards him.
On instinct, you reached forwards and grabbed his dick, standing on your knees again so you could sink down on him. You only managed to get the head in, before one of his large hands wrapped around your wrists; stopping you.
“You take what I give you, slut. Pull shit like that again and I’ll have you on your knees instead, got it?” He growled, his other hand restraining your hip in a death grip that was sure to leave marks on your after— long, purple finger prints.
Though the thought of sucking him off wasn’t terrible, your pussy ached so pathetically and you knew the only thing that would satisfy you was Judd’s cock rearranging your guts. So you whined, but nodded and let him guide you back.
He leaned the seat back a little, Maury yelped and moved away from his place behind you to make space as Judd leaned back. He lifted his hips up, emphasising what he wanted from you.
You reached out a shaky hand, closing it around his base and moving up and down just like he had before. He groaned, teeth clenching as you smeared his pre-cum from top to bottom, massaging him to the best of your ability. Still, you couldn’t ignore the harsh clenching of your hole as he kept you empty. You slowly started grinding against his thigh again, hoping he’d let you.
“Judd..” You sniffled, eyes close to filling with tears. “I need your cock inside me, please.”
You could almost feel Judd’s dick hardened in your grip, and he growled and sat up a little straighter. “Jeez. You whine like a bitch in heat,” He commented, rather smugly.
He beckoned you with his fingers again, and you raised yourself right over his cock but waited to sit down. Judd hummed in approval, guiding his cock with one hand and you with the other, till the head was making its way inside you.
You sighed, relieved, trying to relax your throbbing pussy so Judd could fit. He groaned. “You’re so.. fucking tight, relax.” He said, as he forced his way further inside you.
When he finally bottomed out, you moaned, loudly. He didn’t move right away, so again you took matters into your own hands and started softly rocking your hips.
He grabbed your hand, placing it over your belly to feel the bulge his cock had created inside you. “Feel that, baby? You’re so full, aren’t you?”
You barely registered the question, burying your face in his neck again to hide the way your whole expression screwed up in pleasure. “Mhm.. s’big, s’full.” You slurred.
Then, Judd started moving, bouncing you in his lap like a cocksleeve while you wailed into his shoulder. The stretch was almost unbearable, you felt him bruising your cervix each time he moved— the fit was so snug you could feel every ridge and vain on him.
He lost himself in the feeling of your warm, soft pussy, having tuned Maury out a long time ago he fucked you mercilessly, entirely focused on reaching his own end. He lifted his hips off the seat to pound into you from below— you could feel him in your belly, your clit scraping over his lower stomach every time he moved.
It was too much— you were already close to reaching your end, clenching so tightly around Judd that he cursed and could barely move.
“Feel good, you little slut?” He grunted, blunt nails digging into your sides.
You nodded desperately. “Good.” He said. “Then cum for me again, you’re so close, right? I can feel your little pussy clenching around my dick so tightly, god, you’re such a fucking whore.”
You kinda wanted to say something back, but with his rough thrusts and the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head and crossed; you couldn’t really deny him.
The air in the car felt electric as you came for a second time, bursting and feeling a flush of warm liquid spill from you and cover Judd’s cock. He groaned as you creamed, warm little hole sucking him in and fighting to keep him there. His breathing went erratic, and he bounced you harder, faster, to chase his own orgasm.
“Fuck! Shit, you’re so tight,” He growled through clenched teeth, fucking you so hard the car shook and he was sure to leave bruises. Your legs had gone numb by the time he took your hand again, placing it back on your belly right in time with his release.
His cock throbbed and he came. Hard. Thick ropes of warm cum filled you, stuffing you so full you could feel your belly swell even further under yours and Judd’s combined hands.
He leaned in and bit down on your neck, keeping his own noises as quiet as possible but making sure to leave your neck swollen and blue. You moaned softly as he bit you, not having the energy to shy away from the borderline painful overstimulation.
When he came down, you collapsed into his chest— breathing heavily. You sat like that for a while, the car’s windows had been fogged up and the only thing you could hear were your combined breathing.
‘Atta girl!’ Connie slithered around you, patting you on the head. You just mumbled incoherently in response, still too sex drunk to function.
Maury did the same, ruffling Judd’s hair as he leaned his head back against the seat and praising him— all of which Judd ignored.
“You’ll have to carry me back.” You muttered, after a long while.
Judd chuckled hoarsely, moving you a bit to pull out of you and tug himself back in his jeans. “Fuck no.”
You slapped his chest, gently, and pulled yourself up to look at him directly. “I can’t feel my legs.”
“Then I did a good fucking job.” He snarked, leaning in and kissing your temple.
Well. It wasn’t like the two of you needed to be somewhere, relaxing in your car for a bit actually did seem like a pretty good option— and so that’s what you did.
God,, why am I horny for a fucking cartoon character wth 💀✋
Tags: @dlfvrr , @bxbyyyjocelyn (lemme know if you want to be tagged!)
#big mouth#judd birch#judd birch x reader#headcannons#big mouth x reader#judd birch smut#smut#Judd is so pretty omg
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He’d Never Admit it -Prt 2
Gojo had a funny way of dealing with feelings, unfortunately it might be a little too late for the sorcerer when he finally realises what they are.
♡ part one ♡ part two ♡
Gojo Satoru x FemReader (Senior High School)
Word count: 5.5k (oops)
Warnings: BullyGojo . Gojo bring a dense menace . Crack . Smut . 18+ MDNI. Dirty Talk . Angst . Cliffhanger. No comfort (this chapter) . Jealous Gojo .
Seven days had passed since the incident on making a mess on dipshits desk, a nickname that Gojo had given the guy who was talking to you more and more as the days went.
It was annoying him, spurring him into feeling agitated -an emotion that was foreign to the six eyes.
He watched as your attention towards dipshit had started to focus more, you were smiling and chatting with him so easily.
So for the last five days Gojo took a slightly new approach to getting your attention.
He was going to cause the problem and then fix it, show you he was charming n’all that stuff that get girls attention, y’know the hero vibe!
Genius right?
Pftttt…
You were currently on path to walking past the strongest sorcerer as he stood acting like he was listening to the girl talking to him in the hallway. When you past he stuck his foot out making sure to catch yours, your books against your chest splayed out across the floor as your hands went to stop your face from hitting the ground.
But Gojo caught you, he never caught you, blinking at the hard floor his hand was gripping your shirt from the back, bunching the material in his hands as he grinned down at you like a Cheshire Cat.
“You’re so clumsy~ can’t have that pretty face all smashed in can we~!” he sang, thinking his smooth little plan had gone his way.
It really seemed it had.
Until you squealed.
The buttons popped from your shirt, breasts straining against the material from Gojo gripping it at the back, your whole weight put into the flimsy material. Your arms flew to cover your chest as your tits practically burst from it, buttons popping as they echoed from their bounce down the halls.
Your knees tucked under you and your glared over your shoulder at Gojo, his smirk had dropped clean from his face.
Well, that didn’t go to plan.
“I didn’t-“ Gojo tried, his face not even hinting any amusement as he stared down at you.
“You’re such an asshole!!!!”
“It’s not my fault! Y’ storing cursed energy in those tiddies or something? You lost five buttons! They’re not even massive!”
He instantly regretted the words that left his mouth, he knew he was blabbering nervously but it came out a lot witter than he actually felt. But he couldn’t let anyone else see he was getting jittering could he?
Humour is his defence and deflection tactic after all.
The blush formed across your face as you tried your best to ignore the students who had stopped to watch the scene unfold.
Gojo blinked, eyes drifting to your breast squashed up and exposed from the torn shirt, your arms doing their best to cover you up.
They do be looking good like that though. He thought.
Ah man, he was getting hard again, seriously why did you always affect him like this? You looked so flustered… one of the cupboards wasn’t far from here maybe he could drag yo-
“Look at them tits! Wonder how big they are!”
“Man, a perfect handful maybe a little more!”
Your head snapped around to the boys gossiping who instantly shut up.
“Yeah? How big are your dicks huh? A thumbs length at most, maybe a little more.” You spat sarcastically.
“8.5 inches, 9 on a good day.” Satoru announced whilst he shrugged before bending closer to you and lifting you to him slightly, like you weighed nothing.
“-and it’s always a good day with you.” He whispered the last part winking at you.
“NO ONE ASKED YOU GOJO!” You seethed.
The boys sputtered, girls giggling in the background at them as the attention was briefly taken from you.
Which soon returned when a jacket was thrown over you and Gojo’s hand.
Ah, we meet again, sir dipshit. Gojo thought as his eyes narrowed on a blazer being placed over you.
“C’mon, you have your blazer in your locker right?” Dipshit suggested, smiling at you with some Prince Charming fucking look.
You nodded and stood with his help.
“Nice one, Romeo.” Dipshit mumbled whilst looking over his shoulder at Satoru.
That was day one of Gojo being left stood dumbfounded as to why his tactic didn’t work.
0 to Gojo and 1 to dipshit.
Day two came and he bought you a box of your favourite Mochi as an apology .. without having to actually verbally say sorry.
But Satoru ate the whole box on the walk here.
Gojo frowned as he looked down at the box, seeing one left sitting innocently as if to mock him.
You said to yourself she won’t notice if you have just one and here I am.
0 to Gojo 1 to his sweet tooth and lack of self restraint.
The third day went better, as some one opened their locker a little too harshly and Gojo had got there in time to stop it slamming into the side of your head. His hand flat pressed against the locker door and he grinned at you, you rolled your eyes and shut your own, turning away from him. He looked over his shoulder and glared at the boy who laughed nervously.
“Watch it will you?”
Gojo’s mood changed as he pouted looking at you disappearing into the hall way, his long legs caught up with you quickly and he grabbed your shoulder…
“Hey! I just saved that pretty face again, you’re not gonn-“
He didn’t realise you were drinking some water, tugging your shoulder back had caused the bottle to leave your lips whilst still tilted, pouring it down your shirt which instantly became see through.
Gojo eyed the bottle of water -was it bubbling? It looked like it was boiling in your hand. Blue eyes turning to you answered his assumption.
“Heh, you’re mad at me.”
Your eye twitched, but his eyes kept flickering down to that pretty lacy bra you were wearing under your white shirt, which was now sticking to you like second skin on your chest.
“Fuming.”
Gojo took a step backwards and held his hands up innocently. The bottle soon colliding with his head knocking his glasses half off his face.
“Take your jacket off Satoru!”
Your hands started gripping said item, causing him to laugh at you fumbling with his clothing. He kept his hands up in a surrender but it didn’t stop his cockiness.
“You’re not usually this keen to get my clothes off~! Heh look at you go!”
He was happy to see you walking away with his blazer around you, absolutely swallowing you cause y’know, he’s a big boy and he grinned smugly.
1 for Gojo.
Later that day you’d found him after your last class, handing back his blazer that he couldn’t help notice smelled so much like you now, mixed with his own scent.
Fuck it was a good combination.
“Here,”
“Hmm, I think you owe me for borrowing it all day. I’ve been all cold without it!” Satoru chimed giving you a smirk, eyes looking at you over the rim of his glasses so you could see his mischievous intention.
“You’re kidding right? It was your fault in the first place!”
“Nah I done nothing wrong!”
He didn’t take him much to back you into a nearby cupboard, hiking your skirt up to your waist and pushing your panties to the side. Your hands gripped against the cupboard shelves as he pulled your hips back into him, his breath fanning across your neck as he placed little bites along the skin.
Pressing the tip of his dick between your slick folds and rocking his hips, a long airy moan left him, your hips twitching back as his head caught your clit.
“Watch it then,” Satoru pushed your head forwards, forcing you to watch as his dick slid between your thighs, rubbing along your clit in the process. The head glistening with slick as it pushed through your folds, using them and your thighs as a flesh light. Gojo leaned forward to bury his face in your neck, his hand in your hair still keeping your head down to watch as he thrusted.
“Shit this feels s’good - Hah -I ain’t even done anything and y’so wet already, bet I could slip right in huh?”
“Nah-“ you huffed, arching your hips back before bringing them back as you started to rut against him yourself, Gojo stopped moving and watched as you rolled your pussy against him, tightening your thighs. “-you’ll have to try a little harder.”
Gojo chuckled behind you before pulling back, with the wet slap of his cock hitting his stomach before he spun you around, hands gripping the back of your thighs he lifted you up to wrap them around him. One of your hands gripped the shelf behind your shoulder, the other gripped the hair at the back of his head. Pink dusted both your cheeks as the closet started to get stuffy.
Gojo looked down to the slight gap between you, cock rested against his abdomen, he flexed it watching the trail of slick and pre cum link from his bellend to his stomach.
“Reckon? It’s dripping from just rubbing ya.”
You groaned and pulled his head back roughly, he winced but let out an airy moan.
You rose an eyebrow before a smirk spread on your face. You tugged his hair again, even harder and watched as his dick flexed, his hands tighten on your thighs and a moan caught on his throat.
Oh, the cocky bastard liked it!
“You’re pathetic Satoru, you really have no idea do you? Hurry up and fuck me then before a change my mind.”
You lifted and rolled your hips forward, your hole catching at his head, it only took him one thrust to slid in. A moan leaving you both as you clenched squeezing him. his cock flexing again in you as he felt you adjust around him.
“Shit -how are you always so fucking tight?”
He shifted you, lifting you a bit higher than him and wrapping his arms around your waist. He went to press his face into your neck but you pulled his head back again by his hair to take in his expression. Blue eyes glazed over, light pink across his cheeks and his mouth slightly open.
“You look so fucked out already Sato’”
He didn’t say anything, his eyes drinking you in.
“Open your mouth,”
And he did, your hand pulling his hair back again as you let spit gather on the end of your tongue, Gojo watched as you slowly let it dribble onto his own. Cock flexing again he moaned, closing his mouth he swallowed without even being told.
Because this was his way of being sorry, ‘cause he fucking loved it when you took control of him like a dog.
But he’d never admit that.
“Guess I can be a lil rough,” he mumbled before twisting his hair from your grip and burying his face into your neck, arms wrapping even tighter as he started to fucking rut into you. His heavy moans and sighs fogging against your neck, vibrating down your skin and making you clench around him
“S-slow down Gojo-“
“Nah, I’m way too fucking fired up now.”
Day four however took a turn of events, he hasn’t actually seen you today which was unusual.
However when he did see you it only spurred something ugly in his chest.
Anger wasn’t an emotion that Gojo felt often, if at all. He was far too care free and lacked any real connection to most things, he didn’t care deeply enough for things to get him angry.
Or so he thought.
Seeing you at that coffee shop with that fucking guy?
That did it.
Yeah that guy! The Dipshit.
Gojo didn’t get it, did you not understand the message he was giving you when he made you cum all over the guys desk? The guy who was asking you about your dating choices?
The message was clear, so he thought anyway.
You’re mine.
But he’d never admit that, right?
You actually ended up going out with him even after Gojo made a sloppy mess between your legs and had the name Satoru falling from those pretty plump lips of yours as you cum over his tongue again and again. He didn’t even relieve himself with you that day on the desk- that’s how selfless he was being that day! Yet you were actually went on a damn date with him! Even after he fucked you dumb yesterday in the closet!
And you were happy.
You were laughing, smiling and fucking flirting with him.
You didn’t smile at him no matter his goofy behaviour -you never laughed at Satoru Gojo.
That really bugged him. He was always goofy and silly!
And he knew your body inside and out -he always made you feel better after he upset you. That guy didn’t, as far as Gojo knew anyway.
Shit, wait, what if you cum for that guy like you did the six eyes? Was he better than him? No freakin’ way! Is that why you were happy and smiling with that guy? Shit, shit, shit.
“Satoru, you good?”
“Huh? Yeah m’fine,” he waved Suguru off side glancing at you again from his booth at the cafe.
“Really? You look like you’ve just been dumped.”
“What? I’ve never been dumped, no one’s dumped me!”
The all too fast reply was humorous, it didn’t match his trying to look cool facade -in fact he broke it altogether.
Geto rose an eyebrow, a smirk twitching at his lips, his eyes had seen his best friend staring at you with another guy and he seen those blue eyes of Gojo’s stealing another side glance like he was worried to miss something.
Suguru chose his words specifically when he said the dump word.
Plus that defensive sputtering of a reply that was so out of character from his usual cocky, flippant friend?
Oh no, this was hilarious ! Satoru was actually hung up -he was upset. Over a girl.
“I didn’t say you had, said you looked like it,”
“Tch, whatever. There’s not even an expression for that kinda crap, you’re talking shit Suguru.”
Geto’s eyes widened slightly, pink dusting across Gojo’s cheeks, his body and emotions totally betraying the look Gojo was trying to give -flippant and unbothered.
“Man, look at you!” Geto laughed, leaning forward on the table to point at Satoru’s cheeks “-the blush brings out the blue in your eyes~”
Gojo slapped his hands away and glared over the rim of his glasses. Leaning back into the boot he swung an arm over the spine of it, man spreading and shifting his pose to deflect his feelings as if trying once again to convince his emotions into what his body language was showing, however they still weren’t meeting to agree.
“So you’re not into her?”
Gojo snorted and rose an eyebrow at Suguru,
“Her? As if,” Gojo waved his hand dismissively “-not my type.”
Suguru nodded, crossing his arms and leaning back into the booth seat, turning his head up to the ceiling as if he was in thought.
“Yeah, gotta be honest you’d be punching with her Satoru. Guess you’re not into wife material,”
Suguru was playing the game and it was working.
Gojo frowned as he looked away eyes unfocused as he stared aimlessly into the cafe.
“Aren’t you dating Gojo?”
“-who said that?” You practically spat, you were flustered but it came out more aggressive than you wanted, seeing as you cleared your throat and asked again in a nicer manner, still looking at the guy like he has grown three heads.
“Uh I mean the whole school is whispering about it, you not seen that little fan club of his death glaring at you?”
“What idiot would date Satoru?” Your nose wrinkled as if he disgusted you, as if the thought of actually being with him was so unimpressive that you couldn’t imagine someone that would go for him. HIM, GOJO SATORU UNIMPRESSIVE! The audacity!
“So, you’d be up for me taking you out for a coffee? It’s the least I can do y’know.”
The conversation ran clear, even as he ate your pussy an hour after they were spoken it still rang at the back of his head. That insecurity of his that he buried being triggered.
You’re not good enough, everyone thinks you’re annoying and only see you for your potential -only see you as the six eyes.
The whole conversation you had and he heard, your reaction to dating him was actually hurtful -why did he disgust you? Sure he teased you a lot, but he always made you feel better! It was part of the game right? He teased you, you get angry and you both make up.
He was good looking -incredibly so if you asked him and most people. He always smelled good -he bought really expensive cologne. He was hygienic, his clothes were always clean and stylish. He had money. He was the strongest sorcerers around even at 18. He was the pride of his family.
So why did he disgust you? Why did you act like he wasn’t good enough?
Tch.
So you wanted to act all high and mighty huh? Like he wasn’t good enough for you.
Well, Satoru would settle the score -he’d stop the rumours and clear things up no problem!
Let day five commence.
“Oi,”
Your shoulders hunched as you heard that dreaded voice appear in class, it was Friday and clock out was fast approaching, in fact this was the last lesson of the day before a few weeks holiday. You were sat at your desk grabbing your book for the study session.
A hand slammed down on your desk as he half bent over, reluctantly you looked up and your face fell. His shit eating grin was smug, eyes glistening over the rim of his glasses as they reflected from the sun bouncing on them through the window.
“You left these at my place-“
Hanging from Gojo’s index finger were the panties he’d ripped off from you last week, looking innocent as they swayed so silently from his digit as he lifted them to gain focus on it -no he lifted them so the whole class could see them.
The gasps from the room flooded your ears, your eyes darting to see everyone in the class was looking at you both.
“Satoru that’s too fa-“
Oh? The fact Suguru was finally saying something was perhaps enough to kick your brain into drive that this was actually happening.
“Ah, they didn’t fit you Satoru? What a shame,” even though you were trying to deflect him the heat was rising to your face, feeling up your neck like bugs under you skin.
Like Gojo fucking Satoru under your skin.
Gojo snorted and rolled his eyes.
“Wrong pair those looked great on me. These I ripped off you remember? Hence the condition, thought you’d want’em back for your new dipshit boyfriend.”
In a fluid movement he bunched the panties in his hand and pointed that thumb over to someone behind him. Your eyes followed and landed on the guy you’d been to coffee with, your eyes then followed to where he was sat and it clicked.
That desk..
“He’s not my boyfriend, you’re the dipshit!”
“Yeah yeah, s’what you said ‘bout not dating me yet you’re leaving this at my place hmm?”
He grinned at you, if you were less upset you’d maybe see that his eyes weren’t entirely amused like they usually danced with when he teased you. You’d see he was hurt, he was annoyed there was a slight hardness to them.
But he’d never admit that.
Your hand covered your mouth and cheeks in an attempted to cover your face going beet red, eyes filling with tears as the shear embarrassment hit you like a train. There were so many eyes on you and you felt corned. Your heart sank to your stomach, drowning in the acid that sat there, eating away at you so viciously you felt nauseous.
You stood from your seat, clumsily grabbing your bag and books, looking at Gojo with enough pain on your face to make his own expression fall.
The glistening of feral amusement from his eyes dulled as he set his gaze on what he could only guess was his first look at heart break. -his first look at really hurting you.
No, this wasn’t right, it wasn’t supposed to make him feel like this.
Your hand lowered slightly to release words that made him freeze.
“I hate you Satoru,”
It was eerie how quietly and calmly you spoke, yet it was just so fucking sad how your gentle voice cracked. There was no insult, no temper -nothing.
No, this was different to your usual anger, this wasn’t how it usually goes. You started off like you always did, keeping him place and bantering back. But this?
You never said you hated him, you never looked at him like that before. These weren’t tears of frustration this was something else.
Suddenly he didn’t think your eyes looked so pretty like this, glistening with tears that he caused.
You turned and he stood frozen at your run from the room, everything slowed as you left. How your hair whipped around you, how those stray tears left you dancing a battle through strands of your hair. It was all so clear as time slowed and that was nothing to do with his unique eyes.
The class wasn’t full of people yet -you hated crowds and always got here early but there were a few here.
Suguru gripped the back of his collar and pulled him back, dragging him out the class.
“Satoru, you’re beyond dense. You really outdone yourself this time.”
The next few weeks of a short holiday flew by and Satoru heard nothing from you, his texts not delivered and his calls straight to answer phone.
Satoru > Yo pretty
Satoru > you ignoring me now? Don’t do that :( you’ll miss me too much~
Satoru > c’monnnn babe don’t be like this :( I know how you make you feel better~! ;D come spend next weekend with me! I’ll even take you to get some Mochi, there’s this Zunda and cream flavour you gotta try! I’ll buy you a box!
Satoru > oi stop being a big baby, talkkkkk toooo meeeeeeeeeee!
Satoru > oi
Satoru > hellllllooooooo
Satoru > ╰⋃╯ both know mines bigger :D he misses you <;3
Satoru > Hey, it’s been two weeks, seriously you good?
Satoru > Hey, y/n you’re not back at class, can you just let me know you’re good?
The return to senior high for the last few weeks before everyone left for university or careers came and went quickly -he never saw you again.
He never seen you to tease and he missed it, he missed finding you to annoy you. He missed burying his face in your thighs to cheer you up, he missed pushing that silly school skirt up, he missed how your thigh high socks felt under his hands as he grabbed your thighs whilst bullying his dick into you.
But he’d never admit that to you.
“Y-You’re a r-real asshole you know that?”
A flat line presented on Gojo’s mouth, cracking his can of drink open his head tilted in the direction of the voice, blue eyes looking over his glasses as he stared at the guy without much expression. The guy brave enough to stutter an insult to him.
Yeah, the guy who took you out on a date. Sir dipshit.
“S-s-sorry what was that?” Satoru mocked uncaringly, stuttering to remind the guy he was scared to talk to him.
“Yeah, that! Exactly what I mean. She never dated me you idiot -I asked her out for coffee so she could help me come out to a guy I liked, who’s now my boyfriend.”
Gojo’s heart accelerated in his chest, he finally understood what the phrase meant ‘the colour drained from their face’ because he literally felt the blood dropping from it.
God that was weird, he’s never felt that before.
Outwardly he stayed collected -he stayed cool because he was Gojo Satoru.
“So?”
“So?! Everyone’s noticed how grumpy you’ve been, you deserve much worse after what you did. You should have just asked her out like a normal person would, but your crappy god complex wouldn’t allow that would it!”
“Who said I liked her like that?”
He deadpanned at Gojo, the silence between them was thick as the blue eyes stared at him without much expression trying so hard to remain cool. Trying so hard to not show his discomfort.
But his heart was bouncing against his rib cage, his lungs were trying to pick up his breathing as his emotions started to physically unsettle him, Gojo’s palms were sweating yet he felt a cold rush over his skin.
What the hell was going on? Was he sick?
“You’re kidding right? Do you not realise you’re completely head over heels for her? The whole school knows it, how do you not? Y’know, you don’t deserve her, good job you have no idea, you were so mean to her because you couldn’t figure out you liked her and you’re useless in dealing with it. You saved her from it.”
Turning and fanning his hand dismissively over his shoulder Gojo was left to stand by himself with his can of drink fizzing against the silence he was plunged into.
Eyes blinking, his cool attitude and posture absolutely crumbling to a dumbfounded display.
He liked you?
Is that what this was?
No he didn’t like you!
Right?
The whole school knew? The fuck?
Gojo collected his phone from his pocket, turning on his heels he walked down the hallway whilst making a call.
“Satoru,” Geto answered
“I like her?”
“What? Was that a statement or a question?”
“The whole school knows I like her, what-“
“Oh, her. You finally realised huh Satoru?”
“YOU TOO?! Why didn’t you tell me!”
“You’re hopeless,” Suguru sighed heavily down the line, “-like you’d have done anything about it. Thought it was best forgotten after the last day you seen her, it’s been weeks and schools over, s’a bit late. She’s gone Kyoto for university Satoru.”
“How do you know that? She’s not carrying on as a sorcerer?”
“I seen her last week at Jujustu Tech. Her dad died recently on a job and he wanted her to get away from it all.”
“Her dad died?”
“Yeah, that mission couple weeks ago with the train, that special grade took him out and she finished it off, she has a pretty nasty domain apparently. She had a meeting with the higher ups about it, she was injured.”
You never told him about that, ah man, if Gojo didn’t know what guilt felt like before then he sure fucking did now.
Is that why you weren’t messaging him?
“Just let it go Satoru, you screwed up, move forward.”
No, that wasn’t why you weren’t messaging him.
You weren’t talking to him because of what he did, because of how he was treating you. Because of what he did the last day he saw you.
He tried to forget it because hearing you say you hate him was horrible, seeing you truly upset was weighing heavy on him and the fact he wasn’t there this time to wipe your tears, or make you feel better didn’t sit right with him.
But you’d disappeared from his life, you’d ignored his texts and calls, you left him.
Was it really too late?
You really had left.
Your house was sold, waiting for a new family to occupy the building. Gojo stood before it frowning, hands in his pockets as he looked over it looking so empty and lifeless, a mere shell of the comfort it would bring him. He’d see your cursed energy residing within it, sometimes your dads if he wasn’t away on missions.
The same building that looked so different now, weird to think it had your window on it which Gojo had thrown stones at in the middle of the night when he was having trouble sleeping. He rarely needs a lot of it and his eyes are the reason for his lack of sleep, not to mention his intake of sweet things to try keep his mind stimulated.
It was only getting worse as he got older, he seemed to realise. Yeah, both his eye sensitivity and his sweet tooth.
You were never particularly happy about it, him rattling stones at your window when your dad wasn’t home.
“Piss off will you?! It’s like 2am you menace! Quit throwing stones at my window and find someone else to torment.”
So he did.
Stop throwing stones at your window that was, he’d still turn up only this time floating innocently outside your window knocking on it asking to be let in.
“I told you to quit it Satoru!”
“Nah, said stop throwing stones at ya window so I did, just knocked instead.”
“Get in before someone sees you!!”
Worked like a charm. Every time.
Now though? Doubt he could be getting away with that at the new owners. Besides you weren’t there.
Turning he left the house behind him and found himself walking past it at least once, maybe twice a week for the next two years.
He hoped he’d find your cursed energy there, maybe the new owners were distant family and you’d come back to visit.
But the family held no cursed energy, not even a flicker of it. So Gojo eventually stopped walking by, but one place he did return to was the grave of your dad.
He’d leave a flower there.
“Guess I shouldn’t have been such a dick to her huh?”
Silence as usual.
He’d stand and leave, sighing as he now replaced his glasses with his blind fold he had started to wear because it was being too much for his eyes to deal with.
Everything was so damn blinding.
At first he thought of you everyday, thinking he never used to think this much about you when you were around.
At least he didn’t think he did. Besides Suguru and Shoko he didn’t really rely on anyone, but perhaps you were someone from his past that he could have included on that list back then that only seems to get shorter.
When Suguru dumped him outside KFC, not one of his classiest moments, Gojo truly started to feel alone in this life.
As the weeks turned into months, months turned into years and he gradually forgot about you the best he could, only occasionally being reminded of you every now and then.
Usually when another girl asked him about his past relationships.
“So you’ve never had that special someone?”
They all thought they’d be that thing for him but they never were, 90% of the time he couldn’t even get around to sleeping with them. He wanted something deeper than surface sex, sure it felt good but something was missing.
He never had a relationship, because he just wasn’t the kind of guy to be involved with someone like that. His work was dangerous, he alone would make anyone around him a target. So Gojo kept his distance, his god complex grew trying to bury that deep, gnawing insecurity and stomach churning loneliness. His infinity kept people at bay, both for his emotional and physical protection, burying his sickening need for touch by something that loved him.
These girls after you? They never stood up to him, they were pillow princesses and only aided his dominant nature. He never got that rush that he got with you -that high and low.
He was never as hard as he was for you, that 9 inches on a good day? Yeah, definitely remained at a 8.5inches
He stopped comparing to you after three years, he stopped thinking about you and he buried his head into his work because the weight of Suguru leaving him was another thing for him to carry. He was lonely and he didn’t want more people close to him again and feel that loss.
Funny, because the people he loved were still alive and left him, it hurt more than people dying around him that he knew.
Suguru was a deep friendship lost, you were something he didn’t fully understand.
He started to get comfortable, he started to move forward from you and Suguru…
Then the order came from the higher ups.
Stood in the usual room, Gojo remained in the centre, bored and irritated with these douches already sputtering at him.
“There has been an issue in Kyoto, we need you to go and investigate, students have been going missing. There have been rumours that a cursed object has been confirmed, resulting in a reincarnation of a past cursed spirit rising. You are to investigate and execute, minimal damage and lives lost Gojo, we mean it this time.”
“-and put a damn curtain up will you?”
He didn’t even reply, turning he fixed his eyes in front of him, he heard them and had nothing to say because his mind was else where.
Returning back to you, just when he stopped thinking about you almost three years later.
Kyoto?
That’s where you went right? He’s pretty sure Suguru told him you’d be studying at a university there.
Well, I hope you guys enjoyed <3 I’m tempted to make this into a part three in a slight time skip. Hmm! We shall see, do we need a part three for closure & comfort? Cause I think so 😎
Thank you thank you thank yoouuuu for all the comments / reblogs etc 🥹
Tags: it isn’t letting me tag everyone! Sorry! I’ve tagged the accounts that are letting me. I’ll try again tho. <;3 ps I won’t engage with ageless blogs or blank ones!
@tomiokas-lunchbox @krisp0415 @ifartmangos @ritsatoru @ekaterinatepes @angrydaughter @jessie9008 @marie-morningstar @love-me-satoru @jspenft
© pharix 2023 permission is not given to repost, translate or post anywhere else.
#gojo satoru#jjk fanfic#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#jjk gojo#gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu gojo#jujustsu kaisen x reader#gojo sensei#gojo fanfic#gojo x y/n#gojo angst#jjk angst#jujutsu kaisen satoru#jjk smut#gojo smut#gojo saturo smut
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kept thinking about Eddie & Steve deliberately making jokes to ensure that Dustin and co don’t get into the boat on Lover’s Lake.
“Nicely done,” Steve says when they’re far enough away from the bank—when they’ve left a disgruntled Dustin behind rather than a worried one.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” Eddie says—glances back to where the kids are, although they’ve already got swallowed up by the darkness. “‘Course, man.” He gives a weak smile as he drags the oar through the water. “Those little shrimps would probably try and, like, cannonball right in, and honestly? I, uh, really don’t think my heart could handle that.”
“Yeah, they… really throw themselves into things.”
Steve decides that he’s never gonna bring up Operation Child Endangerment if Eddie’s in the vicinity—the dude already looks at them all like they’ve got a few screws loose, he doesn’t wanna make it worse.
Although, on second thought, him and Dustin probably let that particular cat out the bag with their persistent optimism way back in the boathouse: “There’s nothing to worry about.”
Eddie’s wide-eyed look painted a thousand words.
Oh, he thinks you’re crazy, sing-songed the perpetual high schooler hiding in Steve’s brain. Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson thinks you’re crazy. Time to seriously re-evaluate your life choices.
“Did you think Eddie was a bit, uh, weird back there?” Dustin asked him later. “Like, he’ll be okay, right?”
Dustin was prone to using ‘weird’ as a catch-all term, where it could mean anything from someone being genuinely weird to them experiencing severe emotional distress.
Steve clapped him on the shoulder reassuringly. “Henderson, I’m pretty sure he thinks we’re weird.”
He almost wants to make a joke about that now, get Eddie to laugh, maybe. To tell the truth, Steve had almost cracked and laughed himself once he’d gotten into the boat, when he turned and saw Dustin’s comically outraged expression.
It was only as Nancy and Eddie began to row that he registered the laugh would’ve secretly been one of relief—heartened by the sight of the kids left on the shore.
He stays quiet; Eddie’s shoulders are slowly tensing more and more the further across the lake they go.
It’s not noticeable at first—Robin’s providing a running commentary on the movements of Dustin’s compass, while Nancy determinedly pulls her oar in and out of the water—but Steve soon realises that Eddie’s kind of stopped rowing, instead just making ripples as his grip goes slack.
It’s damn hard to see, but Steve just barely makes out Eddie’s eyes glittering in the dark, staring down at the lake.
“Hey,” Steve says quietly. “You don’t have to—we’re not too far out, we can take you back, man.” He tries for levity. “This thing holds three people tops, remember?”
Eddie’s smile is more of a grimace. “Nah, man. Had enough of being chickenshit.”
“Dude, you’re not…”
Steve trails off, biting back his frustration—it doesn’t look like Eddie’s listening to him anyway; he’s still not taken his eyes off the water. Steve briefly wonders if he’s got that thing Robin says she gets sometimes, something about an imp—it’s why she never gets on Ferris wheels or whatever, convinced that she’s somehow gonna fall.
Eddie gives himself a shake and resumes rowing.
“Sorry. S’just… pitch black down there. He—” Eddie clears his throat. “He wouldn’t have seen—”
His voice cracks, fades into the night. His grip on the oar slips—he snatches it back before it can fall.
“Eddie,” Steve begins, but Eddie speaks right over the top of him.
“I—I hoped he was just drowning instead.” Eddie scoffs, and there’s a bitterness to it, an edge of self-loathing that Steve wishes he couldn’t hear. “And then maybe—” A sigh, another grimace disguised as a smile. “That’s a pretty fucked up thing to think, huh?”
He’s got that tone, Steve thinks, like when he kept repeating that he ran away from Chrissy—like he thought that if he said it enough, someone would snap, condemn him. Like he’s looking for proof that he’s monstrous.
Robin’s still talking, tactfully giving Eddie a semblance of privacy. Underneath her chatter, Steve hears Nancy’s rowing falter for just a moment, and he feels a pang in his chest.
He thinks of Barb and drowning. Wonders again if an ordinary tragedy would’ve been better compared to…
Then he lets it all sink back down.
“That’s not fucked up,” he says firmly. “Trust me, dude, that’s… that’s normal.”
Eddie chuckles shortly—it sounds like he’s doing something similar, pushing everything down, down…
“Normal, huh? No-one’s called me that before.”
“First time for everything.”
There’s a flicker of amusement across Eddie’s face when he replies, “Guess compared to you freaks, I’m pretty normal.”
“Ooh, did that feel good?” Steve says, appealing again to his mental high schooler. “Bit of role reversal?”
Eddie laughs more genuinely. “Sure did. Community theatre’s done wonders.”
A silence falls, and Steve encourages himself to get all relaxed by the boat bobbing up and down. Yeah, nothing’s strictly been confirmed yet, but he already knew what he was getting into when he stepped off the shore, water leaking into his shoes.
It’s gotta be him.
“I know what you’re doing, Harrington,” Eddie murmurs.
Steve gives him a questioning look.
Eddie pulls in some long breaths in exaggerated imitation. “You’re not subtle, Mister Swim Captain.”
“Co-captain,” Steve corrects, hiding his surprise. He can’t really imagine Eddie paying attention to the swim team, least of all a former swim team.
“Oh, forgive me for my inaccuracy.”
Hmm, he’s getting borderline poetic, Steve thinks. Like he was with Mordor and stuff.
So. He’s afraid.
“I’ll be fine,” Steve says lightly.
Eddie lets out a short groan, mutters something that sounds like famous last words. Then, quieter still—Steve can’t quite make it out.
Something about the dark.
Steve could repeat that he’ll be fine, but he knows that’s a shit reassurance. He settles for continuing to breathe in and out, long and slow; Eddie’s beginning to look like he’s unconsciously mimicking the pattern, his shoulders lowering.
“Just come back up, Harrington,” he says, so softly that Steve might’ve imagined it.
“Co-captain’s promise,” he says.
Eddie’s lips twitch. But he’s still fixed on the lake’s depths, like he’s waiting for something—dreading it.
Like something’s lurking in the dark.
#the boat ride across Lover’s Lake#before the dive#pre steddie#eddie and the party#steve and the party#steve and dustin#eddie and dustin#steddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson
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angsty argument with erling? 🥺
sorry looks like I’m incapable of writing angst without a fluffy ending 🫶
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“maybe if you had actually bothered to support your boyfriend for once, this wouldn’t have happened!” erling exclaimed, his voice getting louder and louder as the argument continued.
you scoffed at his emission. “well I’m sorry for not being your little lap dog and following you around 24/7! you know I do work an actual job, unlike most of the guys’ girlfriends?” you snapped back, not at all appreciating his comment.
“yeah, because it must be so tiring sitting at a desk all day.” erling rolled his eyes.
you shook your head, shocked at the words that were falling from his mouth. “you really are unbelievable, you know that?”
erling stepped forwards, towering over you. his usually bright eyes had darkened as he shouted at you for the first time ever in your relationship.
“i pay for everything, buy you everything you want and you can’t even turn up to one of my games?”
erling was right. he did pay for everything, he bought you everything you had ever wanted and more… but that was his decision. you had always offered to pay for things and insisted he didn’t buy you extravagant bags, clothes, shoes… but he chose to, and that was on him.
“that’s your choice, erling! I’m sorry you can’t seem to grasp the concept that normal people can get tired from jobs where they don’t get paid thousands of pounds a minute!” you shouted back, getting annoyed at his accusations.
he reached his hand up to run it thought his hair but as it glided just a few cm’s away from your face, you flinched, immediately turning your head and stepping back from erling. from the man who had been nothing but a total sweetheart to you throughout your relationship until today.
erling’s features immediately softened as he realised what had happened.
“oh, sweetheart.” he shook his head as the seriousness of the situation finally set in.
your eyes filled up with tears. of course deep down you knew he would never lay a hand on you, but the severity of the situation had got far too much, and him shouting at you had become overwhelming.
you looked down from his gaze and when he reached his hand out for you to grab, you took a few steps back in an instinct reaction.
“fuck, y/n, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” he spoke, voice cracking on the second sorry. you looked up and noticed his eyes were now gleaming in the low light.
erling felt awful, he was overtired and worn out from all the games and he had taken it out on the thing he loved the most, you.
“baby, you know I would never hurt you.” he pleaded. “you know that, don’t you?”
you had never seen him look so emotional. the bags under his eyes were prominent as he struggled to keep his emotions at bay.
“I know.” was all you could muster out as you wiped your tears away with your sleeve.
he reached a hand out to replace your with his and he wiped at your tears with his thumb before holding your face in his large hand.
“i’m sorry for shouting at you… i’m just so tired, it’s not your fault, I’m so sorry baby.” he babbled on, desperate to make things right.
you grabbed his other hand in yours and held it tightly, letting him know that you understood.
for the rest of the evening, erling was desperate to make it up to you, insisting you watched your favourite show and going out to get you your favourite snacks.
you were cuddled up to his chest with his hand stroking your hair, lulling you into a sleepy state. you had closed your eyes when when you heard him break the silence in the room.
“you know i didn’t mean any of that, right?” he asked, voice quiet as he continued to stroke your hair.
“i know.” you replied, nuzzling your head further into erling’s chest.
“really, i’m so proud of you, baby. i love showing off how intelligent my girlfriend is and i wouldn’t have it any other way.” he kissed the top of your head and you smiled, soon falling asleep and back to feeling safe as ever wrapped up in erling’s arms.
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send me a request here!
#erling haaland#erling haaland blurb#erling haaland fanfic#erling haaland imagine#erling haaland one shot#erling haaland x reader#haaland#erling haaland x y/n#erling haaland x you#erling x reader#erling haaland x fem!reader#man city blurb#football x y/n#football x reader
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Bayverse tmnt scolding their sons since they went a different direction or didn’t listen and didn’t follow with the orders their dad gave out, and nearly got spotted by humans while the eldest was trying to keep the middle from mucking around and go back on track?
I feel like they will be grounded after coming back to the lair and get sent to their rooms and have their mask taken off them. :D
Sons of Leonardo (Fluff/Crack-ish)
Bayverse!Leonardo x reader
A/N: I love this idea! But I decided to focus on one group of children instead of all four. I went with you and Leo’s kids (aka, my OCS), because that was the first that came to my head😂💙
Buuuuut! If you want me to do more of these with the others, I would happily do so💚
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You and Leo are at least in your 40’s.
Warnings: Spelling, you and Leo’s sons being silly teenagers💙
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Romeo did not like it one bit. Actually, he had been very much against it from the start, wondering how the hell Marcello had managed to get their father to agree to let them go watch the basketball game. He had probably used that eye trick uncle Michelangelo had taught him. Heck, even Gerardo knew how to make those eyes. But of course, their father wouldn’t just let Marcello and Gerardo go on their own. No, no. Romeo had to come along and make sure that his brothers didn’t do anything stupid, or worse, getting noticed by humans.
And that was how Romeo found himself stuck inside the jumbotron for hours, stuck watching a basketball game he didn’t actually want to see. If this was the “responsibility of the oldest” that his father kept talking about, he could easily understand how he could be so uptight sometimes. And as Romeo pulled 12 year old Gerardo back from the edge, he wished his father would have been more uptight that day.
As soon as the game ended, Romeo was ready to go. They had promised not just their father, but their mother as well, that they would return home as soon as the game had finished. So when Romeo had his brothers returned to the roof once more, the last thing he expected was 15 year old Marcello heading the opposite direction, leaning over the edge of the building in order to get a better look of the people walking out onto the street.
“Marcello! No! Dad told us to get home as soon as the game finished!”, Romeo commanded, pointing in the direction they had to go - away from downtown.
“Calm down, junior, I’m just watching”, Marcello said, waving his hand at his older brother. “I’m just watching”.
“Hah”, Gerardo laughed, pointing at Romeo. “He called you junior”.
“Marcello, seriously”, Romeo sighed. “You know how dad gets when he’s worried. Hell, do you remember the time you went too far out in the sewer, and dad, granddad and all our uncles almost exploded with worry? Do you remember how sad mom was?”
“Dude, I was 4”, Marcello said with a deadpan look. “Now I’m just as old as dad was when he and his brothers started going out”.
“Yeah, but they also listened to dad!”
“Haha!”, Gerardo laughed. “Donnie, Raph and Mikey listening to dad? That was a good one ‘Meo!”
“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?”, Romeo sighed, side eyeing his little brother.
“Relax”, Marcello said, straining his neck to get a better look at the crowd. “I’m just looking around. You never know when you see a pretty girl”.
“A girl?”, Romeo asked skeptically. “Bro, you’re 15”.
“So? Mom and dad met when they were 15”.
“18”, Romeo corrected.
“Whatever”, Marcello said, rolling his eyes, letting his hands rest on the edge of the building.
“Why do you wanna look at girls?”, Gerardo asked.
“I don’t know”, Marcello mumbled. “I just wanna look…”
“You are not going to score a human girl”, Romeo said, crossing his arms.
“Says who?!”
“Dad, who is waiting for us to get home”, Romeo said. “Come on, he knows when the game ends and how long it takes to get back”.
“That hypocrite”, Marcello said. “Mom is a human, dad is a mutant. They didn’t meet because he kept hiding away!”
“No, mom and dad met through aunt April at a house party”, Romeo said, putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Now, let’s go before dad and our uncles go looking for us. Or even worse, granddad”.
“No!”, Marcello said, pulling his shoulder away from his brother, getting down to sit on the edge. “I wanna see some humans!”
Gerardo watched the interaction with unease. After 12 years he knew that his two older brothers could get into some heated arguments, just like their father and their uncle Raphael had done when they were younger. But Gerardo also knew that neither Romeo or Marcello would back down so easily.
“You have seen plenty of humans today! You watched a whole basketball game!”, Romeo exclaimed in frustration, grabbing for his brother once more. “Now, let’s go home!”
“I said no!”, Marcello exclaimed, pulling away yet again, this time with much more force. This caused Marcello to tumble forward, his weight pulling him off of the roof, down towards the big crowd of humans below. But thanks to the higher powers for Romeo’s fast reflexes, he managed to get a hold of Marcello’s hand, pressing his heels against the edge before leaning back. Gerardo yelped, running to throw his arms around Romeo, helping him pull their brother back on the roof safely.
Once Marcello was back standing on the roof, slightly shivering from the sudden shock and fear of falling from a high building, Romeo was on him in less than a minute.
“Are you okay?! Did they see you?! What were you thinking!?”
“It wasn’t on purpose, worry fart”, Marcello said, pushing Romeo off of him. “And no! No one saw me”.
“Guys, I think we should go”, Gerardo said, looking over his shoulder in unease.
“Rardo’s right”, Romeo said. “They could be checking the roof soon”. And with those words, the three brothers hurried home.
—
The three brothers entered the quiet lair, their senses heightened for any sounds of movements that would alert them to their extended family’s presence as they sneaked through the lair.
“Do you think dad has gone to bed?”, Gerardo asked.
Marcello smirked, his back straightened as if he didn’t have a worry in the world as he clapped Romeo on the shoulder in victory. “Told you that old fart wouldn’t notice a thing”.
“Look twice before using the term old fart”, a voice sounded, causing the three brothers to jump in surprise, finding their father standing right behind them. His arms crossed and a scolding expression on his face, his towering statue causing his sons to crane their necks in order to look up at him.
“H- hey dad”, Marcello smiled with a sheepish smile. “H- how long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough”, Leo said, his expression unchanging. “Where have you been?”
“At the game”, Gerardo said. “Just like we told you we would”.
“The game finished an hour ago. It only takes 15 minutes to get from the game and to the lair”, Leo said, his hands resting on his hips.
“The game stretched out”, Marcello said, feigning innocence. This caused Leo to sigh, rubbing the bridge of his beak.
Romeo sighed, knowing what this meant. “You and the others watched the game on TV, didn’t you?”
“We did”, Leo sighed, sounding more than a little frustrated.
“Okay, we might have hung around after the game and watched humans, but that’s it”, Marcello said, ignoring his brothers’ burning glares when he used the word “we”. “But it’s okay now. We’re home, safe and sound. So if you don’t mind, I think I’ll head to bed and get some sleep before heading to dinner at aunt April and uncle Casey’s tomorrow”, the middle child smiled innocently, trying to sneak past the broad form of his father.
“Oh no you don’t”, Leo said, grabbing on to the tails of Marcello’s bandana, janking him back with a small tuck, and then pulling it off of his head with a smooth flick of his wrist. “Because you’re all grounded”.
“WHAT?!”, Marcello yelled out loud, grabbing onto his bare head.
“Aww”, Gerardo said with a sad expression, not resisting as his father took the bandana off of his head. “I hate being grounded”.
“That’s the rules”, Leo said, waiting as Romeo untied his own bandana before handing it to his father. “You don’t follow the rules, you get grounded”.
“That’s not fair!”, Marcello yelled. “You went out all the time when you were 15!”
“Yes, I got grounded too”, Leo said. “You see how that works?” He gathered all bandanas in one hand before pointing in the direction of their rooms. “Now go to bed. We start training early tomorrow”.
The three brothers groaned, Gerardo and Marcello being extra loud as they did so, dragging their feet toward the metal stairs that lead to the second floor of the lair. Leo watched them leave, making sure they had gone to their rooms, before returning back to your and his shared bedroom.
In your bedroom, he found you reading a book in the bed table light, your baby daughter cuddling against your chest as she played with her teething toy. You looked up and saw the bandanas in Leo’s hand, watching as he laid them on top of the dresser.
“Grounded?”, you asked, Valentina wiggling in your arms at the sight of her father, a big smile on her face.
“Grounded”, Leo confirmed as he got ready for bed.
“Hopefully they didn’t take it too hard”, you said, closing your book before placing it on the nightstand.
“Well, Marcello wasn’t too happy about it, but the others took it pretty well”, Leo said, crawling under the covers, wrapping arm around you, before pulling you and blabbering Valentina close.
“So nothing new there?”, you asked, resting your head upon his shoulder, watching as your daughter started to hit lightly upon Leo’s plastron with a wide smile. Leo shook his head in a response, resting his cheeks against the top of your head, watching you daughter place both hands on his chest. Leo sighed with a smile, tickling the side of little Valentina, her giggles loud and happy as she hid against you.
“And you, young lady, better not be like your brothers when you get older”, he said, finding peace in her small giggles.
“That, or she’ll be even worse”, you joked, your fingers soothing her small shell.
“With three big brothers? Yeah, you’re probably right”, Leo chuckled, placing a kiss on the temple of your head.
#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt leonardo#tmnt leo#tmnt donatello#tmnt raphael#tmnt michelangelo#tmnt raph#tmnt donnie#tmnt mikey#tmnt x reader#tmnt leo x reader#tmnt leonardo x reader#tmnt bayverse#tmnt bayverse x reader#tmnt bayverse leo#tmnt bayverse leo x reader#tmnt bayverse leonardo#tmnt bayverse leonardo x reader#tmnt bayverse mikey#tmnt bayverse donnie#tmnt bayverse michelangelo#tmnt bayverse donatello#tmnt bayverse raph#tmnt bayverse raphael#bayverse leonardo#bayverse leo#bayverse tmnt#bayverse leo x reader#bayverse leonardo x reader
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Texas State Fair
TF 141 + Alejandro going to the Texas State fair with Gigs
Just me on my Crack Head Shit again! Don't take anything seriously
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• After a far too hard of a mission you decided the guys all needed to lay low and get a fun treat- So you took them to your home to stay till their flights back over the pond.
• Back at your home you had them set up in your guest rooms and livingroom.
• Of course treated them with the upmost hospitality you decided to let them have a little fun.
• Starting of course with a hearty breakfast for the bunch
• "Fucking Hell-" Simon grumbled as he saw the damn platters of food. Eggs, Hashbrown, Grits, Biscuits, Pancakes, bacon, sausage, sausage gravy and some fruits you had lying around.
• "This is a scone-" Gaz said as he held the buttermilk biscuit in hand, Earning a hard glare from you.
• "Just eat the dam' thing" You shot back at him with a glare, the man grumbling before taking a bite and freezing.
• A hint of a smile going over his lips as he finished off the pastry quickly-
• Fucking thought so-
• Each one of them tucking into the hearty breakfast at hand and clearly had favorites.
• Alejandro enjoyed the hashbrowns with over easy eggs
• Price enjoying the grits quite a bit with scrambled
• Gaz dogging out the Biscuits and Gravy.
• Soap ate his stack of Pancakes in delight along side the mountain of Aunt Jemima syrup
• And Simon ate essentially everything but you noticed he liked to make sandwiches with his food using the biscuits.
• "Alright boys, ready to be tourist today?"
• You say cheerfully and watch their eyes get big-
• This was going to be fun - For you
• Maybe lucky was just on your side but you'd taken them to the Texas State Fair. Getting them civilian clothes from Walmart which they had a trip going through.
• Ending up at the Fair after a nice drive in your old truck you smile as the guys get hit with the wave of people and games laid before them. It was absolutely massive
• Deciding to just get the christening over with you take them to the Pits- Getting them to try that years contestants and pit masters specialties from each stall.
• Them almost losing their minds when they saw the prices-
• You of course needing to flex your home so it wasn't a problem as you handed them the paper plates.
• Simon took a peice of the meat and slipped it under his mask first. You see his eyes widen at the taste as he continued to pick through the damn thing at quick speeds. The rest following suite.
• Price Having a damn good time with the smoked sausages as he acted like he hadnt had breakfast. Even if you knew the poor old man would have some heartburn after this.
• Drifting through the fair you showed them all the fusions in for the big contest- which had defiently been hit or miss by your guys standards.
• Alejandro speaking to some stall members as they gave him some stuff to try free and trying different fusions of some things he grew up on.
• A Froot Loop Shrimp doing Gaz in as he damn near lost his Breakfast and BBQ after a bite.
• The favorites among the men being a smothered Torta which they all demolished.
• Which you were greatful for since your wallet was defiently starting to burn-
• Soaps eyes however handed on the Funnel Cake stand and you of course bought him one.
• Soap had the biggest sweet tooth out of the bunch and looked at the Funnel Cake like it was the second coming of God.
• "Ay Fuc ya thats good-" Soap said as he took a bite of the Funnel Cake and gave laugh. You could practically see the sugar rush setting into the Scotsman.
• After a few hours of running you get to the drink stands, Deciding some liquor was in order.
• "Bitc' about it an I'll clock y'u" You warned pointedly at them. Which made him shut up and drink the beers provided.
• From some shots, to Margaritas and then of course a river of beer ready for you all.
• " 'merican Beer is disgustin" Soap grumbled as he looked at the light colored liquid set infront of him by you.
• After the drinks, the alcohol clearly getting to the men as they went to play some games.
• Releasing highly trained soldiers out to kiddy Fair games was probably the worse decision ever- Like setting a Olympian to a athletic competition.
• Winning time and time again each game, getting the biggest prizes or even cash at times.
• By the end of night the men were full and ready to sleep for the next 3 days. You driving them all the way back to your home and smiling as you saw the pile of hardened soilders passed out in the back of your truck like children.
• Sharp shooting, Darts, Ring Ross, Test of Strength-
• Every. GOD. DAMN. GAME.
• By the end each man had a clear plastic bag full to the brim with shit and most was offered to you. The giant bull stuffed animal as big as you being as much evidence-
• This leading to more drinks of course-
• When the rides came however they were well drunk- You feeling like you were watching a group of 6ft+ Toddlers wreck havoc over the fair as they dragged their prizes and went on Faris wheels and mini rides.
#x reader#call of duty mw3#call of duty thoughts#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty#cod ghost#soap cod#cod x reader#cod price#cod gaz#cod alejandro#simon ghost riley x reader#john mactavish x reader#captian john price#kyle gaz garrick#alejandro vargas#call of duty x reader#captian price x reader#soap x reader#gaz x reader#alejandro x reader#ghost cod#cod fluff#Gigs Cod
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Presenting Miraculous Ladybug: Fontaine Edition
ft. Lyney x reader
— A collaboration between @1eaf-me-alone (writing the reader’s POV) and @perpetualcynicism (writing Lyney’s POV). —
Starring: The Heroes
Lyney as Adrien Agreste/ Chat Noir
A student at the Fontaine Academy of Arts studying magic tricks. He is charming, clever, and perhaps a touch too manipulative for his own good.
When the Court of Fontaine is in danger, however, he dons a mask and goes by the name of ‘Chat Noir’, working alongside his partner Ladybug to protect the city.
Reader as Marinette Du-Pain Cheng/ Ladybug
A student at the Fontaine Academy of Arts studying prop design. They take their studies seriously, have little energy for distractions, and crack smiles rarely.
When the Court of Fontaine is in danger, they don their own mask and become the hero known as ‘Ladybug’, working alongside their partner Chat Noir to protect the city.
Charlotte as Alya Césaire
A student at the Fontaine Academy of Arts studying photography, as well as an aspiring reporter for the Steambird Newspaper. A close friend of the Reader, her disposition is outgoing, kind, and energetic.
She writes articles to kick off on an early start to her career; the most famous of which, called ‘Chats on the Steambug’, records the deeds of the two heroes Ladybug and Chat Noir and speculates as to their identities.
Lynette as Nino Lahiffe (of sorts)
A student at the Fontaine Academy of Arts studying magic tricks alongside her twin brother, Lyney. She is both her brother’s best friend and closest confidant. She speaks rarely and keeps to herself, preferring to assist from the shadows rather than take the spotlight.
Furina as Chloé Bourgeois
A student at the Fontaine Academy of Arts studying drama. Her love for gossip and tendency to hold herself above others puts her at odds with the Reader, whose dislike for gossip and frivolity is taken by Furina as a personal offence.
Neuvillette as Master Fu
A judge at the Court of Fontaine hiding a secret in his own right. Serious and impartial, he has connections all over the city, and is the mind behind the heroes.
When a dangerous atmosphere begins to spread over Fontaine, he is the first to act and rally help from those he deems worthy of holding a miraculous to keep the city safe.
Starring: The Villains
Arlecchino as Gabriel Agreste/ Hawkmoth
Lyney and Lynette’s adoptive mother, and a successful theatre director. She runs a large orphanage—the House of the Hearth—though her relationship with her foster children is strained at best.
By night she is the villain Crimson Moth, whose goal is to resurrect her close friend, Signora, through capturing the Ladybug and Cat Noir miraculouses.
La Signora as Emily Agreste
The deceased close friend of Arlecchino who aided her in looking after the House of the Hearth. Following her passing, Arlecchino has begun trying to bring her back to life.
Childe as Nathalie Sancoeur
Arlecchino’s assistant and manager at the House of the Hearth. He aids Arlecchino in her attempts to bring La Signora back to life, as well as overlooking the children’s well-being, including Lyney and Lynette’s.
Despite the importance of his role, Childe is often more slack about rules when it comes to the orphanage than Arlecchino would like.
Masterlist:
(To be added in hopefully not too distant a future…)
Taglist:
So far: @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n, @lunavixia, @lumiconic, @apotatouwu, @catarinarose, @wolfkitty42, @kaedear, @mellowberrie, @motherscrustytoenailclippings, @ishouldstopdaydreaming, @sketcheeee, @scarifiey, @astolary, @reixcalliope, @imliquidesmooth, @princessofenkanomiya, @haystack4854, @bananasquash, @sofa-overlord, @honey-lemonz, @signedbyhira, @just-a-ghost-named-echo, @theday-dreamer17, @carillonkh, @karma-gisa, @kithewanderingme, @mycatateit, @academiq, @lazy-sanns, @smexycaterpillar, @cridtiins, @ruee-bearr, @lizzy-harper.
Comment beneath this post if you want to be tagged with chapter updates.
#miraculous ladybug: fontaine edition#genshin impact x reader#lyney#lyney x reader#sigh… there goes all of our dignity…#i’m going to go now and shrivel into a hole and not post for five years
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pairings: kinda mean!bf joel miller x reader
summary: you try and prove yourself to joel and ellie by exploring an abandoned (strictly off-limits) barn. after finding yourself in trouble, joel is extremely angry.
warnings: mean joel, but mean because he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to reader, a whole lotta angst, violence, cussing, sad reader, insecure! reader, slightly toxic! and angry! joel, mostly fluffy ending, ellie being amazing as always :)
word count: 4k
You didn’t mean for it to happen.
It had come out of nowhere, silent, and you were not.
You had ignored his orders purposefully. Ignored him because you were smarter than he thought, stronger than he knew. He had told you, stoic, face hard with no smidge of a smile, of anything other than pure seriousness: “Stay.”
The word had made you angry. He had ordered you like a child. It felt degrading. But even Ellie knew when to listen to him.
Carefully, you snuck out of the room he had all but banished you too, trying to avoid the creaky floorboards and stray debris. If Ellie heard you, she would no doubt force you down, just as worried for your safety as Joel.
You had nearly made it to the stairs, grinning, until you stepped on a faulty board. A loud creak sounded throughout the house, and you sucked in a breath, eyes shutting as you stood as still as you could. You stayed for a minute, two, until deciding you were safe.
The fresh air hit you as soon as you opened the door. It was cold, making you shiver as you pulled the sleeves of your top down to cover your hands. The barn wasn’t far from here, you had seen it when you had found the village. Joel had muttered something about staying away from it, that it was too dangerous. “Could be crawlin’ with infected. ‘s too risky.” You had gone to argue, but were shut down instantly with a “no.”
You sighed at the memory, a fresh wave of confidence hitting you as you began to walk faster to the barn. You were about to prove yourself. Find supplies and bring them back. Though Joel would never admit it, the three of you had been struggling. Food had become sparce and most of the towns you had come by had already been raided. You, well, Joel, had checked everywhere. Everywhere but-
The barn. You could see it, red, deteriorating wood inviting you to explore. Your stomach dropped slightly at the sight of it, but you shook it off; this was perhaps your only chance to prove to the man you could be useful.
Your pace sped up, feet carrying you faster to the large building as you clasped the knife you’d taken from Joel’s stash. He would kill you if he found out. Whilst you truly sucked at shooting, you had little experience in hand-to-hand combat. You prayed the time you spent watching the pair had imparted some wisdom to you.
The door loomed over you, the early morning sun making a huge shadow cast onto the ground. You shivered, nerves overtaking the confidence as if it had never been there at all. But then you remembered all the time Ellie had defended you from Joel’s comments. All the times in which Joel himself had shot an Infected to save your life. You had to repay them by finding something, a stash of ammunition, maybe a few tins of food, medicine.
But more than that, you had to prove yourself. Had to prove you were worth saving all the times they had saved you.
You had remembered seeing a gap where a window once was, haybarns underneath it to form a boost up. You ran round the building, and once you located it, you began to make your way through. It was dark inside, you could already tell, but the sun seeping through the cracks in the wood made it so that you would not be completely submerged by the darkness.
You didn’t leave yourself time to hesitate as you climbed through the gap, careful not to fall too harshly on the ground. Instead, you lowered yourself slowly, holding your breath as your feet hit the floor. You wanted to celebrate, but realised quickly you had no reason to yet; the easy part was over.
Your eyes adjusted to the dark of the barn fairly quickly, thanks to all the nights you had spent outside, Joel’s harsh but necessary rules of no light so as to not attract any Raiders rendering helpful.
The barn was messy, left hastily no doubt by its owners, or others who came to see its contents. That worried you- if others had been here, surely nothing would be left. But your doubts were paused as you spotted a glistening from a shelf. You rushed over to it, careful to keep quiet in case Joel was around the area, and equally careful not to trip on any debris.
You could’ve cried when you realised what it was- tins. Tins of beans and some soups and various labels. You began stuffing them into your bag, not too bothered by the clinking they made until you heard it.
Click click click.
Your heart dropped to the floor, your body freezing in absolute fear as you realised what you’d heard. You suddenly could not remember a single thing Joel had said about clickers, about how to kill one, about to use the knife. All you could do was stay still, silent, trying desperately to control your breathing, and the tears stinging your eyes.
Click click click.
It sounded closer. The barn was big, the sound probably echoed. But you had no idea where it was coming from. You couldn’t see anywhere in the dark, nor could you hear anything but the clicker and your heartbeat thumping against your chest. You were terrified it could hear it too.
You stayed still, trying to calm yourself as you assessed your options. You could run. Take off back the way you came and not stop running until you reached the house. You realised that in your haste, you hadn’t put anything under the ledge. No, you wouldn’t be able to pull yourself back up, not quietly anyway.
You could hide. Somewhere, anywhere in the barn. There were stary haybarns, cupboards, and bits of equipment left and broken. But that would make noise. And the clicker wasn’t going anywhere.
You were trapped. And it hit you all at once, that this is what Joel was worried about, that he was right… that you were probably already dead.
Click click click.
And then you could see it. It had been in the depths of the barn somewhere and you realised that it had probably been trapped here for some time. That it had probably wrecked the barn, not Raiders like you had thought. Your eyes widened in fear, your brain screaming at you. It took everything in you not to scream.
You could fight.
You had a knife. You could sneak up on it, stab it, kill it and make your way out. It felt like your best option. With shaky hands, you carefully pulled the weapon from your pocket, watching the clicker stalk through the barn.
The large front door of the barn wasn’t far from you. You could make it in running distance, open it, with the hope it wasn’t jammed or too heavy, shut it after you and leave it trapped or dead. But there was no way you could do any of that silently. You had to kill it. You had to fight.
The clicker pauses a few feet away from you and you grimace. Fighting the urge to be sick. You raise the knife, ignoring the stab of your heart in your chest, the voice in your head screaming that your already dead, that you let them both down. But that they would be better off without you.
And then you were running, knife raised, cans clinking in your bag. The clicker spun around, screeching, the sound making your blood curl in horror as you let out a shriek. You stabbed the knife into the side of its neck, making it recoil in hurt. You attempted to retrieve it but failed, deciding instead to run to the door.
You could hear the clicker regain itself, knocking through debris, hitting everything in its path as you ran. You couldn’t stop the wails leaving your mouth.
You reached the door, attempting to push it open but realising something was stopping it. “Fuckfuckfuck.” You repeated under your breath, very aware the clicker was a moment away from you. You pushed harder, screaming, realising this was it.
You thought of Ellie. Of her jokes that made you snort. Of the long talks you shared when Joel was searching for food. You would miss her.
And you thought of Joel. Of his hard stare, expression impossible. You thought of the moments where his eyes softened for the first time, when you had shared a story of your past and he realised what you’d been through. And you thought of the first time he had kissed you. Or the first time he held you. And every moment since.
You held your breath, time slowing, as you gave up, eyes squeezing shut as you could hear the clicker bounding toward you…
And then you were falling. You heard a gunshot, two, three, ears ringing as light flooded your eyes. So, this was death. It was cold and smelt like dirt.
It didn’t take you long to realise you were not dead. Especially when large hands were pulling you harshly to your feet. Your heavy breathing matched Joel’s, his face twisted in an expression you had never seen before. You looked to where the clicker was dead on the ground, to where the door had been opened from the outside, to where Ellie was stood watching, mouth agape.
And then you looked back at Joel. His eyes were scanning your face, down to your hands, even your feet. “Were you bit?” His voice was harsh, a strained whisper as he held onto your arms so tight, that you could already feel the bruises forming.
“I-I don’t… I don’t think so. Joel-” He let go instantly, and you stumbled back, rubbing the skin he was holding.
“What were you thinking?” He was quiet, eerily so, and your blood ran cold.
“I just, I wanted to help.” You remembered the food you found and took your bag off your shoulder, “I found this-”
“I don’t give a fuck what you found.” He had ripped the bag from you and thrown it onto the ground. Ellie was already grabbing it. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened? DO YOU?” He shouted now, and your heart leapt.
“I-”
“You almost fuckin’ died. Do you understand? Huh?”
“I know but I didn’t! And I actually found something-”
“You could’ve died. Don’t care about what you found if it costed you your life. You disobeyed a direct order, and you nearly died cause of it. I knew you couldn’t handle it. Pathetic.” The word was whispered but it bit you like venom. You felt your bottom lip tremble slightly, bringing a hand up to your mouth to stop anything else. Joel was already turning away from you, shaking his head in disgust. Muttering to himself as he walked away, back to the house. You let your body fall to the ground with exhaustion.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, your okay. You did good, okay? Look at this shit, you got food, and I’m fucking starving.” Ellie attempted to cheer you up, hand squeezing your shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get back, yeah?”
You shook your head, looking up at her. “He hates me.” Your voice was smaller than it had ever been, and Ellie shook her head.
“He doesn’t hate you. He’s just pissed cause he cares. He wants you to be safe. Hey, so do I. And you are, so he’ll get over it.”
“He’s never looked at me like that before.” You whispered, wiping your eyes on the sleeve of your top. “He hates me.” Ellie joined you on the floor, wrapping her arms around you in a hug. She said nothing else, not until you were ready to stand. You both made your way back to the house.
Joel didn’t resurface all day. Ellie had done a wonderful job at distracting you, had even managed to make you smile, before ordering you too have a wash- “Your dirty and you kinda smell after, you know, running from a fucking clicker.”
You did, cold water hitting your body as you scrubbed the dirt from your skin. You watched as it dripped down the drain, a reminder of the events from the day. You should’ve felt refreshed, clean. Instead, you felt rotten.
Dusk had begun to set in, and you had hardly spoke since being back. You were sat at the table, knees to your chest, as Ellie handed you some food. “Here, eat this. And don’t say no, I’ll be pissed.” You forced a smile, taking a bite from the sludge in the bowl and thanking her. “You thirsty? I could get you some water if you want.” You sighed, putting your legs down and looking at her. She looked concerned, and you felt a wave of guilt wash over you.
“I’m sorry, Ellie. I shouldn’t have snuck out and I shouldn’t have left you and-”
“Hey, I can handle myself. I’m not mad that you left.”
“But-”
“You took a risk and got us food. And you are safe. Sooo, nothing bad really happened, yeah?” You opened your mouth to talk again but she stopped you, “And before you mention Joel, he’s fine. I’m sure he’s just having a moment and then he’ll be back and ready to talk to you.”
“Okay, okay. Thanks, kid. Means a lot.” Ellie grinned, reaching over to pinch your cheek and you chuckled.
“Would’ve been pissed if you did die, though. I know you don’t think so, but we both need you. Who else would actually laugh at my jokes?” You chuckled, genuinely, squeezing her hand.
“Thank you, Ellie.” You carried on talking, and you were almost distracted when the door clicked open. You jumped, spinning around to see Joel. He didn’t even look your way, ignoring you completely, slamming the door shut so that its echo reached your ears, and stomping up the stairs. You swallowed harshly, turning to look at Ellie whose lips were pursed awkwardly.
“Sooo… I lied, he’s still mad. But he’ll get over it.” You sighed, burying your face in your hands, attempting to hide your emotion from the poor girl, not wanting her to have to calm you down again.
You made sure Ellie was in her room for the night before deciding to face Joel. You were sure he was in the room you were sharing, the door only slightly ajar, Joel’s trick to still hear if anything was happening.
You almost didn’t want to see him. The guilt was eating away at you, the image of his face, his words, scarred into your brain. You had never seen him so angry, so disgusted. It made your stomach churn.
You inhaled deeply, squeezing back the tears, shuffling in place. And then you pushed open the door, slowly, quietly.
He was lying on his side on top of the covers, face hidden from your view. As if he knew you would come in and he didn’t want to see you. you were still a moment, frown tugging your lips down, eyes already watery. He hadn’t acknowledged your presence, and if he knew you were there, he pretended he didn’t.
You wanted to speak but found words failing you. Instead, you walked to the opposite side of the bed. You hovered for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall, the only sign he was alive. You so desperately wanted to reach out to him. Wanted to curl up in his arms and fall asleep forever. But you stopped yourself.
The bed dipped as you sat on the edge of it, the mattress squeaking. If Joel was awake, he would surely know of your presence. You were sure he was, eyes open, a scowl on his face as he refused to look at you. A part of you wanted to turn the other way, too.
But you kept staring at his back. Willing him to wake up, to talk to you. You hated going to sleep with any bad blood between you, in fear one of you would not wake up. You eventually gave up, lying back on the bed with a sigh. You had left a considerable distance between the two of you, ensuring your bodies were separate enough that he wouldn’t feel corrupted by your presence.
You thought about how, even though you hadn’t died, perhaps you had lost Joel. The thought made you choke on a sob you had been repressing, hating crying, especially in front of Joel. But you couldn’t help it as they tumbled from your lips. Instead, you buried your face in your pillow, muffling the sounds as much as you could.
Beside you, Joel tensed. He knew you were there before you even opened the door. He could always feel you, like a part of himself.
He had sensed you were in danger before Ellie had found him. He was about to scold her for coming outside when she told him you were gone. He went into survival mode, knowing instantly where you had gone. He hadn’t run as fast as he had in years, avoiding trees and scaffolding to make it to the barn.
He heard a clatter and was there. The door was jammed, making him huff as Ellie readied the gun. When he heard you scream, he felt a new feeling rise inside of him, and he suddenly pulled the door open, and there you were. Ellie had shot the clicker dead before either of you had time to run.
You were terrified, he could see. You were trembling, eyes scouring your surroundings. He gripped you tightly, unsure of whether he was dreaming. Unsure of if he had lost you, that his worst fears had come true.
“Were you bit?” You had said no, and he saw red. Worry becoming anger as he let go of you. He was vaguely aware of what he was saying but he couldn’t care, not right now. Not when he was so close to losing you over something so stupid.
He didn’t look back as he left.
He could hear you crying now. Could hear the choked sobs leaving your body, though muffled in a poor attempt of being silenced by a pillow. He didn’t dare look. Knowing that if he did, he would break.
But your shaky breathing and sniffling got to him. And his anger resolved into worry again, before breaking into something more. He turned over, bed creaking and dipping as he did, taking in your tearstained cheeks, your puffy eyes. You were the epitome of pain. Emotional, saddened pain.
And then his hand was reaching out for you. You flinched slightly, not noticing how he was now facing you. His face was stoic still. Not completely ready to forgive, but his hand had met your waist, and he was tugging you forward slightly. “C’mere.” You heard him mutter and it was enough reassurance for you.
You sobbed freely as soon as your face met his chest, hands clutching at his shirt in desperation to feel him closer. He shushed you gently, rubbing your back with his rough palms, feeling a lump rise in his own throat. It took you a while to calm down. Your tears had soaked his shirt and your own, but they eventually ceased, breath shaky as you stayed still.
When you trusted your voice enough to speak again, you broke the silence of the room with a hiccup of, “I’m so sorry.” Joel shut his eyes, tensing slightly.
“Don’t do that.” You sniffled, releasing the grip you had on his shirt, and wiping at your eyes. “Don’t need’ta apologise, not right now.”
“Do you h-hate me now?” Your voice was so small that Joel strained to hear, but he did, and he grunted softly.
“No.”
“But you're angry at me.” Joel sighed, gently shuffling away from your body so that he could face you.
“Yes.” Your lip quivered and he lifted his thumb to trace it. “How could I not be? You were almost killed.”
“I know-”
“You don’t.” his voice was harsh again, and he dropped his hand, moving to sit up completely. “You have no idea what would’ve happened if you…” His head dropped into his hands as he sighed again, deeply. “Can’t lose you, too.” Your heart dropped as you realised the extent of the fear he must’ve gone through. He had trusted again, after all these years, he had opened his heart to you, and you’d almost broken it.
You sat up after him, hands going to rest in his lap as you craved to be close to him again. “You didn’t lose me.”
“But I nearly did. If I can’t protect you, both of you… then what the fuck am I?”
“Joel, you do protect me. But I didn’t listen to you because-” You hesitated, Joel could tell.
“Why?” Joel asked and you suddenly felt silly.
“Because you don’t trust me.”
“Hmm?” You sighed, hiding your face from Joel by resting it in the crook of his neck. The smell of his skin grounded you.
“You don’t trust me. I just wanted to prove myself, I don’t know, to you? Or maybe to myself? I just, I wanted to do something to help. But it was pathetic.”
Joel’s heart dropped as you repeated the word he had said. He truly hadn’t meant it, not in the slightest. But it had slipped out before he could catch it. His anger at the situation was slowly diminishing.
“No.” He said, gently maneuvering so that he was looking at you again. His gaze softened and you finally felt like you could meet his eyes again. “Hey, listen. You listening?” His voice was still stern, and you nodded instantly. “I didn’t mean that. And ‘m sorry, I was an asshole for saying it. But you can’t do that shit again, okay? You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, I know you are capable, hell, more than me, but that was dangerous.”
You nodded, sniffling, looking to your lap before you felt Joel’s touch lifting your chin. You melted into his touch, grabbing onto his wrist in fear he’d pull away. “Promise me you won’t do that again.”
“Promise.” And he knew you were telling the truth. “As long as you promise to trust me more.” Joel nodded, guilt filling his insides as he shifted in his place.
“Promise.”
“Listen, Joel, I am sorry, next time I’ll tell you or Ellie-”
“Shhh, you don’t need to apologise. Ever. Let’s get some rest, okay? You’ve had a busy day.” You smiled slightly, still feeling a pang in your chest. But your worries were leaving slowly as he shuffled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you were lying on his chest. “Your arm okay?” He muttered, analyzing the irritation on your skin.
“yeah, ‘s fine.” He nodded, placing a kiss on your skin gently. You clutched onto him, breathing him in, feeling his heartbeat as if it were your own.
“Sleep, baby. Your safe.”
“Okay, Joel.”
“G’night.”
“Goodnight.”
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#tlou ff#tlou angst#joel miller angst#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fluff#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#angst#fluff
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Hi, congrats on 5K followers, I love your stories, I've just started following you and by chance, I found your "Gentle Worship" while looking for something interesting about Keegan and I'm happy to have come across a page with a lots of weel-written and interesting stories :)) I have had a look at the characters you write about and after intense evaluation I would like to ask you to kill me with an intense domestic fluff with Gary "Roach" Sanderson, where Gary came home the night before his due date, exhausted after an intense and dangerous OP, and finds f!reader dancing wild and singing "The Nights" by Avicii while preparing Gary's favorite biscuits and he watches her in awe because she is very out of tune and never sings in front of him. Have a nice day and congratulations again :))
—Dance With Me Before The Chill Sets In
⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [Tired? Yes, but he's never too tired for you and your loveliness. But maybe you need to remember to lock the door when you're home alone.] ❞
The door was unlocked and the music was blaring, and that alone made him more nervous than he’d been the past three months. Gary had just come home—back to you, back to your warmth and the scent of your shared home. While exhausted, nothing could wake him up more than your safety potentially being on the line.
He knew best, music to block out any noise; an unlocked door—a remnant of something gone wrong.
Gary drops his bags on the steps and barrels through, hand already reaching for the gun set in the back of his belt as his eyes gain a sheen of panic. Nevermind his aches and pains—the desperate burn for sleep behind his eyes, no, his heart was hammering as fast as a hurricane; hard in his breast. Boots hitting the rugs you’d placed in the entryway, he blinks quickly and scans the area.
Yet with the barrier gone, Gary can hear far better. All at once, the man’s body sags with relief at what his ears twitch to.
Singing. Off-tune, off-key, feminine singing.
Your singing.
The silent man sighs long and puts a hand to his face, rubbing into his eye sockets firmly to push back the pounding of his skull. Blond tendrils of his hair obscure his gaze, waiting only a second to take it all in before he sets them back with his fingers.
Standing like a fool in the foyer with his gun drawn and the door open to a dark, rainy sky, the Sergeant shakes his head with a growing smile and slips the weapon away. On his way to slowly grab his bags and shut the door—which he’d have to speak to you about being locked when he was away—he listens.
Hell, how could he not?
Gary hums along to the song, loud beside your own voice. You weren’t trying to sing seriously, he knows, but that didn’t make it any less beautiful to him. Even your little voice cracks and the embarrassed laugh you lend yourself after makes him have to push back a bright grin. You were just…adorable. Truly.
God, he was so happy to be back.
Closing and flicking the lock, Gary pushes off his boots with a tiny grunt, peeling off his jacket over his fatigues before hooking it to the wall. With silent feet, he pads to the kitchen, where a familiar smell makes his nose twitch.
You didn’t sing often, and you baked even less, but the scent in the air was unmistakable. Chocolate chip cookies. A hint of cinnamon. Gary’s eyes brighten as he comes closer to the kitchen entrance—brown butter.
His favorite.
Those eyes blink at you as he comes to a stop by the wall, hands resting in his pockets as he gazes at you with a wide-eyed love. The man takes a moment, breathing it in before he smiles small-like and leans to the side, resting his shoulder on the frame.
Gary’s eyes don’t leave you as he watches your form sway back and forth, singing as you bring out another batch of cookies from the oven; taken out and placed on the counter. Tens already laid out to cool—scores that the man himself could, admittingly, eat in about an hour.
He stays there for who knows how long, smiling like a kid on Christmas, before he finally makes himself known by knocking on the wall twice with his knuckles. Gary raises a teasing brow when your singing is immediately cut off by a loud curse.
Eyes meet him, and just like his own action from before, you sag when you notice who it is, tension bleeding to love.
“Gary!” He chuckles, moving forward as you barrel into him—laughing loudly and squealing. “You’re back early! I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”
The Sergeant hums, kissing all over your face until you’re burning up like you were sitting in front of a fire. Finally, he meets your mouth, arms picking you up from around your hips and pulling you up as he stays lip-locked with you. Fingers going through his hair, you return it with a giggle as he places you on the counter.
Gary leaves for only a moment to put another batch of cookies in, before coming back over and slotting himself in between your legs, arms around your waist and head going to push under your chin. You gently card your hands through his hair, burying your face into it and whispering out, “I can’t believe you let me keep singing like that—how long were you there?”
The man chuckles under you, squeezing your body tighter and kissing the flesh above your clothes absentmindedly. You can feel his smirk as plain as day as he blinks, his lashes fluttering.
“You’re a troublemaker, Sanderson,” you mutter into his hair, Gary sighing like a pleased cat. “But I’m glad you’re back home to me…Tired?”
He shrugs slowly, grunting as if unable to focus above the all-encompassing being that was you. If the Sergeant had a heaven destined for him after all of what he’d done, the scene in this kitchen would be the very definition of it—down to the cracks in the tile and how you kissed his head. The warmth in the air.
He pulls back suddenly, your music still playing, and drags you with him, placing your feet down carefully before he sends you a sly look with a raised brow.
“Gary?” You ask, confused but grinning as he moves to put a hand around your waist and set your own on his shoulders.
He tilts his head at you and begins taking small steps that you mirror. The man’s eyes are imploring, and they ask one simple thing—dance with me?
It’s infectious, the way he watches as if the world around you didn’t matter.
How could you ever say no?
And so, in the warmth of the kitchen, cookies wafting on the air and your shared laughter ringing out along the house, you dance on tired feet. It isn’t elegant, but it is beautiful. How you step on his toes, how he nearly trips on the chair leg and you have to hold him up as he laughs like a schoolboy, leaning over you.
A dance, not of skill, and a song, not of promise, but both of one thing that mattered more than all else.
Love that seeps out of skin and eyes—that staples the essence of souls together far beyond all that they’ve been given.
#i love this man#cod#cod x reader#cod x you#call of duty#x female reader#call of duty x you#call of duty x reader#gary roach sanderson#gary roach sanderson x reader#gary sanderson#gary sanderson x reader#gary sanderson x you#modern warfare#cod mw2#cod x female reader#x fem!reader#female reader#mw x reader#call of duty roach#roach x reader
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D&D: Honor Among Thieves (Xenk/Edgin) fic rec list:
These are just based on those I've read and loved so far. There are so many incredible works coming out of this new fandom that I'm sure I'll have enough recs for a second post in another month or so.
Because this turned onto a bit of a long post, the recs are below the cut.
I've marked the rating by each fic, but please do mind the tags!
Curse of the Green Hag by @moorishflower (E, 16k)
Xenk contracts a fuck-or-die curse and turns up on Edgin's doorstep for the first time since Neverwinter. Also contains an excellent cameo from Holga, a bit of bondage, Xenk's first time, and A Lot of emotions. And of course the actual smut is top tier. Already wanting to read this one again.
High Praise Indeed by enchantedsleeper (T, 3k)
Xenk stops by Holga and Edgin's cottage to find Edgin in the throes of a breakup. In the process of trying to persuade Edgin of his many worthy qualities, he accidentally reveals a little too much. Short and very sweet, with cameos from Holga and Kira. Would recommend for fans of pining idiots.
in the absence of truth by @floralprintshark (E, 13k)
Five times Ed says that he hates Xenk and one time he doesn't. Yes, a 5+1 things, but oh it's so much more than that! There are heists and hijinks, accidental asshole Edgin, uncertain and inexperienced Xenk, and a hint of polyamory between Simon and Doric, but the whole party are featured and written perfectly here. Also contains Many emotions. I sent this one to the group chat, and we were ALL screaming about it (in the best way)
Universal Glue by Korwwa (E, 10k)
A rescue mission goes wrong, and Xenk and Edgin get caught in, yes, a glue trap. The premise may sound like a crack fic, but it's definitely taken seriously, whilst still being very fun. Plus a wee bit of angst for (delicious) seasoning.
Scraping the Moss Off the Standing Stones by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (E, 4k)
Established relationship, Xenk comes home after a long time away and Edgin takes care of him. Oh boy, this fic sure packs a lot into just 4k words, and I feel like the author just Gets how I imagine Xenk - always seen as holy or evil, but just wanting to be treated like a person. Also very hot - I'm weak for some well-written dirty talk and this is perfect.
When the well runs dry by demon_faith (G, 2k)
Part one of the Time Heals All Wounds series, which can either be read as a series or as stand-alone fics. Established relationship, Edgin is badly injured, and Xenk is unable to heal him. A classic hurt/comfort with a good bit of Edgin whump, and Xenk struggling with the reality of that.
On the edge of a blade by demon_faith (T, 3k)
Part two of the series, again established relationship. This time, Xenk gets badly hurt, and it's up to Edgin to take care of him. Heavy on both the hurt and the comfort.
lay on hands by @hauntedfalcon (E, 2k)
A getting-together/first-time fic, with a healthy dose of body worship. Xenk gets off on Edgin's metaphors. Beautifully written, and also my initial thoughts were - this is an author who sure is clued up on the names of medieval clothing/armor.
half your life (you've been hooked on death) by roundtriptojupiter (T, 2.5k)
Edgin struggles to process the events of the past six months, when Xenk turns up at his doorstep. Or, Edgin and Xenk process grief together, then kiss about it. A great exploration of Edgin's emotions, not only regarding Zia and Holga, but of the other people he may have harmed along the way.
We can burn much brighter (if we don't look back) by enchantedsleeper (T, 6k)
Xenk apprehends Forge and learns of the events that transpired at Neverwinter. Grappling with the fact that his past almost repeated itself while he was too far away to help, he encounters Edgin. Such a lovely post-movie fic, exploring just how Edgin and Xenk are processing their feelings in the wake of it.
Do you know you'll never fly alone? by MayGlenn (T, 1.2k)
Something a bit more light-hearted to end the recs list on: a fix-it of sorts, but for the poor undead guy in the post-credits scene. Xenk takes Edgin on a late night ride, to fix an issue he'd left behind, but maybe for something more also...
And that's that for now! Please do feel free to recommend your favourite D&D: Honor Among Thieves fics in return, or yell about which of these you loved the most. My comments and inbox are always open :))
And to the fic writers (and all fic writers out there), thank you so much for sharing these stories with us! You're all absolutely wonderful, talented people <3
#dnd honor among thieves#dungeons and dragons honor among thieves#xedgin#edgin x xenk#fic recs#nic's recs#dndhat fic#nic watches dndhat#rec list
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