#i'm hoping the mentions will catch it </3

[endeline]

Let The Light In: Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Words: 4k

Pairing: Paige Bueckers/Media Manager! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Friends to enemies to lovers (but the reader doesn’t know why they’re enemies), reader is actually so incredibly in the wrong, slow burn, mention of an injury, the girls are fighting!

It's her—actually her—, standing right in front of you, and for a brief moment you almost wonder if your mind had conjured up a hallucination to retaliate against the sheer force of your yearning. 

You've spent more time than you’ll ever admit imagining this moment, playing it out in various scenarios in your mind, but the reality has a sharpness that no rehearsal could have prepared you for. Her presence is a tangible, overwhelming, a reminder of what you had, of what you had lost.

“Hey, you good?” She repeats, her voice cutting through your racing thoughts, pulling you back down to earth. 

Blinking away the tears that are, embarrassingly, still brimming in your eyes, you take a deep breath before allowing yourself to reply. "Yeah, I'm good," the words feel hollow, a betrayal of the whirlwind of the emotion inside you. 

Paige doesn't respond; instead, she slightly rocks back and forth on her heels, her hands nervously fidgeting as an all too familiar silence envelops the two of you. Wordlessly still, she reaches for the chair in front of you and pulls it out, the both of you wincing at the loud screech it makes as it drags across the wooden floor.

You don’t bother to hide the shock on your face as the blonde sits down across from you, her knees briefly brushing against yours before she swiftly tucks her legs to the side, avoiding your touch.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," her tone unusually light—almost friendly, which would be confusing if you had the ability to take note of it. The only thing you can focus on is the familiar cadence of her voice, bringing back a flood of memories, each one sharp, sweet, and painful.

“I feel like I have.”

____

“I hope we’re still doing this when we’re 80.” You say, grabbing another spoonful of her strawberry ice cream and plopping the pink desert into your bowl of cherry, mixing the two together before putting the spoon back into your mouth, letting out a satisfied hum when you confirm you’ve finally gotten the perfect mix. Paige chooses to ignore how much you’ve taken out of her bowl, knowing that when you get full in a few minutes the remainder of yours will be scraped back into hers. 

“Doing what?” 

"Ice cream Thursdays, dummy," you clarify, abandoning your spoon just in time to catch a melting drop threatening to fall from her chin onto her shirt with the pad of your thumb. Pressing your finger against your lips to lick it clean.

She watches you, gaze shifting to the table when your eyes dart up to look at her again. “When we’re 80 you’ll probably be taking pictures of your husband and grandkids playing in your garden or something all cutesy and shit, you won’t be thinking about me.”

Ignoring the confusing pang in your chest when you hear her dismissal you lightly kick her shin under the table, “Oh come on, we’ll still be best friends when we’re 80, if anything I’ll be taking pictures of the grandkids playing basketball and you’ll be trying to keep up with them in your walker.” 

This gets a chuckle out of her, “hopefully by then I’ll know better than to do anything but coach.”

You smile, pushing the now half empty dessert towards her for her to finish before leaning towards her, “okay then, I’ll be taking pictures of the grandkids with coach P.”

She digs into the remainder of your cherry strawberry mixture, bringing the spoon to her mouth before shaking her head and adding another spoonful of strawberry, “fine, but if we’re 80 and you still haven’t figured out how to get the right cherry strawberry mix, I’m canceling ice cream Thursday’s.” 

____

Her smile fades a bit, replaced by a more cautious expression as she changes the subject, her friendly façade faltering a bit as speaks. “You know, you’re still sharing your location with me.” 

"What?” 

“I wanted to find you and I realized you still share your location with me.”

"You wanted to find me?” you echo. The part of you that's been hoping for this moment at war with the part that's been dreading it.

"Yeah, I needed to see you.” You hear her sigh, debating whether to continue, “thought we could talk."

The sincerity in her tone is disarming, and despite the hurt, a part of you wants to lean into the familiarity of her presence, to the shared history you’re still desperately clinging too. 

"Talk?" 

She nods, swallowing hard. “About the pictures you took the other day…” She begins, her voice trailing off briefly as she looks away from you, her hands fidgeting slightly, “Charlie sent me copies of them.” 

“Oh, she’s not supposed to do that, you guys only get the final edits,” the words slipping out before you can think better of it. 

"I know, but I asked her too.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“-I wanted to see the ones Leo told you to stop taking.” 

You sit there in stunned silence. And, after a moment that stretches on for longer than you would have liked, she exhales, shoulders sagging. “I don’t know why I reacted like that, with the first shots I mean. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble with Leo. I know how much his opinion means to you and I had been thinking that if you got me lectured by Geno I’d want an apology, so… yeah” she finishes

An un-familiar coldness washes over you as you digest her words. This isn't what you thought was happening, she was deviating from the script you had imagined, and essentially memorized by now with how often you replayed it in your head.

“That’s what you want to apologize for?” You’re unable to keep the shock and anger from seeping into your tone. You lean back in your chair, arms crossing, subconsciously trying to protect yourself from the hurt you know she’s about to make you feel again.  

“That’s all I have to apologize for.”

The tension between you crackles, a palpable energy that draws an invisible wall, furthering the separation between the two of you.

"You think that's it?" Disbelief coloring your tone. "After ghosting your best friend without so much as an explanation, that's what you think you need to apologize for? Getting me in trouble with Leo?"

She looks taken aback, perhaps not expecting your reaction to be so intense. For a moment, she is silent, her eyes darting away before meeting yours again, this time with a mixture of frustration and pain. 

"Come on, we were never even really friends.”

You can’t blink back the tears as they form in your eyes now, this isn't going to end well. “Don’t start lying to me now Bueckers.”

Paige recoils slightly, as if your words are physical blows. For a moment, she seems to be struggling with something, then her posture stiffens, an accusing finger reaching out to point at you as she doubles down on her statement, “we both know that I was just your muse or whatever the hell you want to call it. You did not treat me like a friend, you used me to get praise from Leo and whoever the hell else you thought you needed approval from. You took me for your art when I was at my lowest, again and again, just because my face got your work attention.” 

The accusation stings, not just because of its intensity, but because part of you knows there's some truth in it. You've always known how compelling she was in front of the camera, how her expressions could turn simple photos into art, and you loved it. 

Before everything fell apart, the two of you had become something of a dynamic duo. Everywhere Paige went, often for basketball, you followed, and everywhere you went, a camera was almost always hanging around your neck. 

The passion Paige had for her sport and the passion you had for your art is what originally brought the two of you together, bonding over the drive each of you had to constantly be your at your best, for better or for worse. 

____

It was your freshman year. You had just been offered a coveted spot on the UConn sports media team after your photojournalism professor, Leo Howard, had apparently spent the entire semester showing your work to his collogues who had unanimously agreed, you were going to be something special.  Being the only freshman to ever have been allowed to serve as the lead photographer at the school’s games was a big deal. The pressure not fully weighing down on you until the night before the UConn, Notre Dame women’s basketball game. 

They had started you out small, tennis, water polo, even a soccer match as your superiors had gained more confidence in you. But this would be the first big event you’d shoot, your first chance to really prove yourself, to prove that Leo was right about you. 

The clock had just struck midnight when you made your way across campus, having given up on trying to get any sleep earlier in the night. Opting instead to head to the athletics department gym where they had allowed you to stash away your things in a small, abandoned office room. Assuming that'd be better than staying cooped up in your dorm all night. 

When you arrived, instead of being greeted by the silent gym you’d anticipated, a woman was stood at the half court line, a basketball bouncing up to meet her outstretched palm before being pushed down, again, again, again. 

“The gym’s closed.” Her voice calls out to you, finally noticing you as you made your way across the court, heading for the office door. 

You had lifted your UConn Staff lanyard up to show to her, “I could tell you the same thing.” 

She approached you, your height difference becoming more apparent the closer she gets until she’s fully towering over you, “I don’t remember seeing you around here.” 

“I’m the new photographer, I just started last month.”

This explanation apparently does little to clarify your sudden appearance in her court, “okay, but you’re not supposed to be here, it’s late.” She points out, her tone mixing curiosity with a hint of concern.

“I know but I’m shooting my first big event tomorrow and I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d just come here and look at some old shots and stuff, prepare you know?” you rambled, hoping to justify your presence in the gym at such an unusual hour.

You’ve gotten her attention now, “Oh, I have a game tomorrow, is that what you’re here for?” 

You had of course, assumed she was on the basketball team when you saw her dribbling the ball earlier. But as when she had moved to stand in front of you, you immediately recognized her as the infamous Paige Bueckers, the star player you’d been specifically ordered to get good shots of during this game. 

"Yes, that's exactly it. I’ll be covering the game," you confirmed, feeling a slight relief as she seemed to recognize your role and accept the reason behind your late-night visit.

“Oh, cool, I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then?” 

You nod in response, “yeah, I guess you will.” 

She gives you a small smile before beginning to walk back to her original position on the court, “I’m Paige by the way!” She calls out as you reach the door, you turn back, shouting your name out, already anticipating the next time you’ll get to see her.

As it turns out, you don’t have to wait long. Barely 30 minutes have passed when you’re interrupted by a knock on your door, “hey,” she lets herself into the small office space, taking a seat on your desk. 

“Hey?” 

This girl has guts you can’t help but think. You’d just met and now she’s propping herself up on your furniture, uninvited. 

You’d probably be a lot more bothered by her behavior if you weren’t so distracted by how pretty she looked, even under the glow of the notoriously unflattering florescent office lights.  

“I was thinking, you need to practice shooting basketball games, and I’m just practicing shooting so if you wanted you could take pictures of me, you know, to get the hang of it you could.” She offers. 

“Oh, yeah that actually sounds great!” You're unable to keep your excitement about getting to spend more time with her entirely out of your voice when you reply, grabbing your camera bag as she moves off your desk to stand back up, holding the door open before following you back out to the court. 

“Honestly I’m kinda tired so I’m only doing free throws but feel free to take whatever pictures you want.” 

You take her words to heart, the clicks of your camera mingling with the pounding of the ball on the floor as you take picture after picture after picture. 

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to fall into a steady rhythm, occasionally daring to interrupt the other’s focus with questions, jokes, or quick quips about the others work. 

The next day whenever she gets a basket, her eyes turn to you first, pointing at your camera for you to get a shot, and every time she does, you take it. 

You’ve never seen Leo smile so big as he does when he gets your contact sheet.

The “You did good, kid. I hope to keep seeing more stuff like this.” echoing in your mind when you leave his office, calling Paige, “when’s the next time you can shoot?”

She had left practice the second she heard your voice over the phone, “I can be free now.” 

____

You’re abruptly pulled from your memory by the chime of the café door. A group of girls enters, their laughter and chatter filling the air. One girl stands out, wearing a stark white jersey with the number 5 displayed prominently across her chest. The sight of it jolts you back to the present, a reminder of where you are and what’s at stake.

“Paige we can’t do this here” you say keeping your voice low, sensing that this may not end well, and as Paige had just mentioned, any picture of her ends up everywhere, and if captured, this probably wouldn’t be a pretty one. 

She exhales sharply, her lips parting to argue, but then she pauses, scanning the surrounding area for any potentially prying eyes, brows raising when she sees her lucky number 5 on the chest of a brunette who is now whispering with her friends, looking Paige's way. With a reluctant nod, she chooses silence, perhaps unable to concede that you might be right.

The tension between you is palpable, a brewing storm that has been building for too long, promising to pour down on you both.

The two of you don’t make it far, her car is parked right outside and the second the doors lock she’s turned back to you, brows raised in anticipation of your rebuttal. 

You take a deep breath, struggling to find the right words to express the mix of anger and hurt that's been simmering inside you. “Let’s get one thing straight, if I wasn’t your best friend, you most certainly were not my ‘muse’.” you begin, unable to hold back the anger that’s been quietly brewing inside since you first heard her pathetic attempt at an apology 10 minutes ago. 

The sharp sound of her laughter interrupts you, “okay then, you were just using my face to further your career and you didn’t give a single fuck about me.” 

Your anger pulses hotter at her laughter. 

If you had thought the silence between you two was bad, then this must be hell. Everything she says, every expression she makes sends you spiraling deeper and deeper down.  You don’t even want to look at her anymore, scared that if you catch her gaze again, the once warm and loving looks you remember her by will be permanently tainted by the pure and utter distain that seems to be consuming her now. You want to reach out, to say something that will mend the rift, but fear and doubt hold you back. In this moment, you realize just how fragile your connection has become, teetering on the edge of collapse.

"I wasn't using you," you assert firmly, struggling to keep your voice level. "Yes, you've helped my career—that's undeniable. But that was never the only thing you were for me. Our friendship, what I thought was our friendship, meant more to me than any photo ever could."

Paige's laughter fades, and she looks at you, her expression hardening as she processes your words. 

"It didn't feel that way to me," she shoots back, her voice tight. "Every time you needed something for your portfolio or an exhibit, who did you turn to, not any of your other friends, me. Don’t you think that’s a little strange.” 

The accusation stings, God she really knew nothing about you, did she? 

“I reached out to you because I thought you liked it. Every time I took something you posted it, on media days you always requested me specifically, even when we were freshman and there were people who knew much more than I did, so don’t try to delude yourself, we both benefited from this. But at least I was under the impression that we liked spending time together, that it wasn't all just so I could get more praise for my pictures.” 

She stares at you, her expression blank, as if your words are too much for her to process.

"You actually need to just leave now," her hand reaching to unlock the car doors while she motions for you to exit.

“No," you reply appalled, "you can't just kick me out because I made a good point.” 

She lets out a dismissive scoff, her hands moving to grip the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white with tension."This is my car and I’m asking you to leave.” 

Your eyes narrow feeling a sudden surge of familiar desperation. “You’ve walked away from me once, I’m not about to let you do it again.” 

She just stares at you, her gaze cold and unwavering, each of you refusing to be the one to break eye contact with the other. 

“If you really thought I was using you, why on earth would you continue agree to every single shoot for 2 years? Even if you don't think I do I know you, you wouldn't have done that. So why are you really shutting me out Paige?” You press, watching her closely. Your heart pounds in your chest, each beat echoing your fear of losing her for good.

She diverts her gaze, her eyes finally falling away from yours. Staying silent for a full minute before she straightens up, seemingly gathering her composure, and shifts the conversation topic away from her wrongdoings and back to yours.

 “Intentions don’t matter anymore. Actions do. And your actions have shown me exactly where I stand in your life. Tell me again, what's your most famous photo, huh?"

It's a low blow, and it doesn’t take long for you to catch onto what she’s talking about. The two of you have had quite a few viral moments but one far surpassed the other. There was only one picture that had landed a coveted cover spot on the headlined article on ESPN, a place in CNN’s ‘This Week in Pictures’ and internship offers from all the way in New York to L.A. 

____

She had crumpled to the ground, clutching her knee in agony, silencing the crowd in an instant. Her teammates had quickly formed a barrier around her, protecting her. Through a narrow gap between them, her eyes, wide and brimming with pain and vulnerability, darted around frantically until they finally locked onto yours. 

It was a look of pure, raw emotion—a silent plea for comfort, for reassurance, for the familiar presence that had always been her anchor. Her hand reached out, trembling, as if by some miracle, your touch could erase the pain. And in that moment, as she reached desperately towards you, almost mechanically, you lifted your camera. 

The weight of it felt heavier than ever before. Looking through the viewfinder, you saw her in perfect focus, every detail of her suffering magnified. Her eyes, filled with a mixture of hope and despair, seemed to question your every move.

As you pressed the shutter, capturing the raw, gut-wrenching moment, a pang of guilt surged through you. The image was powerful, a testament to her strength and vulnerability, but it came at a cost.

Lowering the camera, you were left standing there, the echo of the shutter still ringing in your ears. You wanted to drop everything and run to her, but the moment had passed. The damage was done. Her eyes, now filled with a sense of betrayal, lingered on you before she turned away, her teammates closing ranks around her once more.

____

You gape at her, a million thoughts running through your mind, none of them coherent enough to form a sentence. You thought about this picture frequently; its creation was instinctive, driven by a reflex that you hadn't fully understood even as you pressed the shutter.  You’d always (foolishly) assumed that she had known that you never meant for the photo to get out. It was a mistake, a lapse in judgment, a moment of weakness where your professional instincts overpowered your personal loyalty.

It was never meant to be published—but Leo had discovered it, and from there, it spiraled out of your control, gaining a life of its own in the public eye. The image, once released, spread like wildfire. It became the defining shot of your career and the defining wound of hers.

“Paige, I-“

She shakes her head no, her expression eerily similar to the one in the picture that ruined the two of you.  “Please just leave,” she repeats, her normally deep voice an octave lower with the intensity of the emotion coursing through her words. 

Realizing you have no ground left to stand on, the least you can do is abide by her request. You reach for the door handle, but her voice stops you. 

"And for the record," she begins, answering your earlier question, "I always agreed to those photos because I loved you and I thought maybe, just maybe, if I helped you get what you wanted, it might make you love me back.”

Her confession wrenches a sudden and uncontrollable sob from your throat, you want nothing more than to shut the door, wrap your arms around her, and beg for the forgiveness you know deep down you’ll never deserve until your heart gives out. 

But instead you stand, exiting the car and turning to her one last time, speaking up through tears, "I can't justify what I did with that picture, and I know that if I spent every moment of my life trying to make it up to you, I'd still fall short," you say, your voice choked with regret. 

Taking a deep breath, you looking up before meeting her gaze again. "And I know I didn’t show it well, but I loved you too."

She looks away, blinking back tears, her shoulders trembling, she whispers, her voice barely audible, repeating the words you’d uttered just a few minutes before, “don’t lie to me.”

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers #paige buckets #uconn wbb #wcbb #wcbb x reader #wlw #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers fanfiction #uconn huskies #fanfic #angst #wbb #uconn women’s basketball

[zoofzoofxx]

“OH MY GOD THAT’S JOOST KLEIN!”

(Pt. 2)

Pairing - Joost Klein x fem!reader

Summary - Following an attempt to ignore Joost and act as though nothing had happened, you both meet on a rainy day while waiting for the bus. He offers you a ride but first takes you out for a dinner and shows you the beauty of Amsterdam at night.

Genre- fluff, maybe little bit of angst.

Mentions - @dozcan123 , @multifilmfan & @mrschandlerbing

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About three months back, something went down with Joost Klein. We chatted at first, but then I got busy, and Joost wouldn't quit trying to get in touch. I brushed off his messages until I finally blocked his number. After that, he stopped trying to reach out on other social platforms. I felt a bit guilty, but I figured he probably moved on. Sometimes I thought about unblocking him and telling him how I felt, but when I saw he was into Eurovision, I hesitated. 3 weeks ago, he dropped a track called Europapa, and it blew up. The song brought back memories of Joost, making me consider going to Eurovision with my sister. Lost in thought, a message from my best friend Zofia interrupted me, signaling her arrival. We decided to grab a drink and catch up, with Zofia's unexpected entrance and our trip to a nearby bar helping clear my head.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 3 hours later ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

I checked my bus app to see when my bus will arrive. I still had 35 minutes left but the walk wasn’t short so basically I already should be on my way. I escorted my best friend to her place; she was completely wasted, and so was I. It was the usual routine - she'd get super drunk, I'd have to take her home, and then make sure I got back to my flat safely at night. I glanced at my friend before asking if she could at least get ready for bed and sleep. She agreed, closed the door, leaving me alone. I turned on maps to find the nearest bus stop direction, and just as I did, a few raindrops fell on my screen, signaling the impending rain. And sure enough, it started pouring. I began to run, and as I was about to cross the street, a car came speeding towards me, honking loudly, nearly hitting me. Shocked, I turned around, not knowing what to do. The car was already gone, so I tried to forget the scary moment and went to sit on the bench at the bus stop just a few steps away. Sitting there, rain pouring down on me as there was no roof over the bench, I stared at the ground, hoping the bus would arrive soon, even though I still had 10 more minutes to wait in the cold rain.

“Y/n?” A low male voice with a pronounced Dutch accent addressed me. I turned looked up to find a recognizable individual standing directly in front of me. I was taken aback by the sight of him drenched from head to toe, standing there as confused as I was.

"Joost?" I uttered, rising to my feet and adjusting my coat. An extended pause ensued, with neither of us certain of how to initiate this dialogue.

"It was you crossing the street? Please be more cautious next time," he began, causing my eyes to widen in surprise.

"I apologize." I glanced aside and then back at him. He appeared altered. His hair had brightened notably, nearly reaching a platinum blond tone. His demeanor was grave. It seemed like he wasn't content to see me, and frankly, I wasn't excited either.

"How are you?" Were the only words that escaped my lips.

"I'm good. Have you been drinking?" He inquired, moving a bit closer, though there was still a noticeable gap between us. I caught a whiff of his cologne once more. It was the same scent from three months back when he assisted me in zipping up my jacket.

"Tipsy, not drunk," I corrected him, settling back onto the bench, which was once again damp. I glanced down at my shoes, feeling embarrassed.

"I can catch a whiff of the alcohol from here," he remarked, and I simply pouted, unsure of how to respond. He moved closer and settled beside me. Our shoulders brushed together. In a sudden impulse, I rested my head on his shoulder, shutting my eyes and relishing the moment. It dawned on me how much I had missed Joost.

"Y/n, do you want a lift?" Joost interrupted my thoughts. I hesitated a lot, unsure if I should say yes or no.

"Sure." I say standing up. He stood up as well, and I just followed him. It was a 1-minute walk until we arrived at the car I almost got hit by. I sat in the passenger seat and inhaled the scent, Joost's specific cologne mixed with cigarettes. I yawned, leaning on the window. He started his car, and we drove through the city. There was complete silence between us until there was a loud growl. I covered my stomach with my arm and started to daydream about what I would eat when I arrived home.

“What are you doing?” I inquired as Joost made a sudden right turn.

“I’m starving, do you like McDonalds?” He asked and I furrowed my brows.

"I suppose so, but I've got some food at home, so I'll decline," I replied, earning a chuckle from the blonde guy.

"Ha, that's totally a classic mom move: 'We've got food at home,'" he mimicked, leading to a moment of silence as we both pondered our next words.

"It's on me." He stated, breaking the silence as he parked his car in the parking lot and switched it off.

"Please," he uttered, casting me those identical pleading eyes as during our initial encounter. Exhaling deeply, I release my seatbelt and unlatch the car door.

"Macdonalds around midnight just hits differently," Joost remarked as he savored his first bite of the Big Mac.

"Would you like some?" He inquired, flashing me a comforting smile.

"Thanks, but I'm good," I replied, smiling back, enjoying my chicken nuggets. I noticed Joost eyeing them, so I pushed the box towards him and nodded, signaling he could give them a try.

"May I?" He inquired, gazing at me. He looked very handsome. His beautiful blue eyes peered through his thick-framed glasses. He wore a Burberry scarf around his neck. His sharp jawline was what made him truly attractive.

"Sure," I replied, looking down, aware that I was blushing intensely.

"You know I've never tasted chicken nuggets," he remarks as he takes one, slyly snatching the sauce I was using. He sampled the nugget while I indulged in some French fries that I also relished. I glanced out the window; it was entirely dim outside. Then I shifted my gaze back to Joost.

"Why did you block my number?" He inquired out of the blue. I sat upright, unable to provide a response to his query.

"I was occupied," I replied curtly, feeling a bit anxious that this conversation might escalate. He simply nodded, unsure of what to say. After a moment of contemplation, he finally broke the silence.

"Occupied with someone?" He inquired, prompting me to tilt my head slightly. I needed a moment to ponder and craft a thoughtful response. I wasn't preoccupied with anyone. I was simply engrossed in self-care, focusing on my mental well-being, striving to improve my life even just a little. My daily routine felt monotonous - waking up, having breakfast, heading to work, eating dinner, sleeping, and repeating the cycle. I grew weary of this routine. I longed for my parents, my younger sister, and the carefree days of childhood.

“No.” I replied dryly, as I took my final sips of coke. Joost had already pushed the box back, but I nudged it back to signal that he can have the last nuggets. He accepted the food, pondering his response before blurting out something foolish.

“So you were occupied with…?” He prompted me to complete the sentence. I simply sighed in response.

"My mental health," I respond, causing his eyebrows to shoot up in surprise.

"You could have informed me that you were having a tough time. I would have been there to support you," he says, gazing at me with concern.

"I just needed some time to myself," I say, hoping to end this conversation.

"You know, I felt foolish when you blocked me. You could have simply mentioned you weren't interested in me, and I would have backed off," he says, sitting upright, with a hint of remorse in his eyes as he gazes at my hands. I was fidgeting with my sleeve.

"Feeling tense?" He asks, taking hold of my hand. I wanted to say no, but deep down, I knew I could only answer yes.

"No. Not really." I respond, attempting to avoid the eye contact he's seeking.

"Do you desire any more food?" He inquired, and I simply shook my head to decline.

"Let’s go then." He suggests, gently patting my back. We exited the building together.

"I can walk home from here," I say, glancing at him. He was tall and had a very masculine appearance.

"Can I accompany you home?" He questioned, and unsure if it was a wise choice, I sensed it might be our last meeting for a long time, or possibly never again. Nevertheless, I nodded, and he grinned. We began walking towards my house.

"I like your scarf," I mentioned, breaking the silence. He didn't say anything but gently removed it and wrapped it around my head.

"It looks much more flattering on you," he remarks with a smile, reaching out to grasp my shoulder, drawing me closer to him. Suddenly, he makes a wrong turn.

"That's not the route to my place," I mention, furrowing my brows. I was nearly sober.

"I know. There's a spot I'd like to take you to," he mentions as we reach the bridge. The wind was strong, messing up Joost's hair. He tried to fix it quickly, but it didn't really work. I couldn't help but laugh, and he rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue in response.

"Hey, what's so funny?" he says playfully, giving me a gentle push.

"Nothing," I uttered as he drew me closer once more, and I simply relished the moment. It dawned on me that I was thoroughly enjoying the time with the tall Dutch gentleman. A quiet interval ensued until we reached a bridge. It was truly a sight to behold, and I couldn't resist capturing it in a photograph. Stepping back, I ensured Joost was also in the frame. He glanced at me, posed with a smile, and shaped a heart with his fingers.

"Aww, adorable!" I say with a smile, and he approached without a word. I tucked my phone away, and Joost simply embraced me. No words. No sounds. Just two individuals embracing at the bridge. Two hearts beating in unison.

"I deeply yearned for you," is the only utterance he managed.

"I missed you as well," I reply softly, maintaining the embrace. We linger in the moment before eventually deciding to head back home as the chill of the evening sets in.

"When do you plan to depart for Sweden?" I inquire purely out of interest.

"My manager mentioned they're counting on me to be at the hotel tomorrow," I respond, nodding in understanding.

"Are you not keen on joining me?" He inquired. He had already asked me this question during our meal.

"I'd be happy to join, but I need to find a way to make some money," I respond, to which he pouts in disappointment.

"I comprehend. Please inform me if your decision changes," he states, and I offer a smile. Upon reaching my residence, we bid our final farewells. He mentioned I could keep the scarf but requested something in return. As I lacked valuable items, he noticed my bag and a small keychain, a fluffy pink heart. He inquired about exchanging it, to which I happily agreed, asking if he desired anything else, but he declined. We shared a parting hug, and he mentioned he would text me. After he left, I unblocked his number but never received a message from him again.

A/n - guys I’m so sorry this is so shitty 😭 I feel like I made so much grammar mistakes. English isn’t my native language so if you see any mistakes please contact me 😘 BY THE WAY I DONT KNOW IF YALL NOTICED BUT Y/N’S BEST FRIEND IS ACTUALLY ME 😍😍😍😍😍THANK YOU SO MICH FOR 60 FOLLOWERS ILY! leave a comment behind please it gives me a lot of motivation ✌🏻 I’m actually thinking if I should make a part 3 but idk lmk 😊 PEACE OUT 😇✌🏻LUV U GUYS 🥰❗️💋💋💋💋💋

#joost klein x you #x female reader #x fem!reader #x y/n #x reader #joostkleinxreader #stand with joost #free joost #justice for joost #joost klein #joostice #cute #couple #fluff #angst #last goodbye #part 2 #zoofzoofxx

[evmrellie]

Labyrinth | s.r x gn!reader

summary: You're scared about your feelings for Spencer. Insp by labyrinth from Taylor Swift.

genre: fluffly and hurt/comfort. pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader (I'm a girl so I wrote going on this way, but I think I didn't gave any descriptions abt being one, so it's totally safe for gn!readers <333 if I did, I'm sorry, I didn't notice.) words: 1,3K warnings: family issues, inexperienced!reader, reader never being in a relationship before, insecurity, anxiety, mention of toxic relationships (not between reader and anyone else) notes: hiii, this is my first oneshot so plss be nice 😭✋🏻 im not used to write like this, but I'm so obsessed with Spencer and I had this idea and I couldn't just let go. English it's not my first language, so forgive me if any mistakes or if u guys don't understand smth. not proofread. hope you guys like it !! <3

It only hurts this much right now

Was what I was thinking the whole time

You've never trusted relationships, not that you had experienced any, but what you saw growing up? What you were used to? Didn't make you want to get into one in the first place.

You never denied that you've dreamed about that; finding a true love and a nice, healthy relationship since you saw all your friends living it. That hurted you a little, but you learned how to live with it.

Breathe in, breathe through

Breathe deep, breathe out

I'll be getting over you my whole life

You tried to catch your breath, adjusting it as much as possible. You were used to unlearn the ability of breathing when you were around people who made you nervous, especially if you had a slightly crush on them. Actually, you unlearn every normal thing that humans do when they interact, it's like a part of your brain stops working and refused to turn it on again. He loved to make you embarrassed, especially in front of pretty nerd ish boys.

The first time you met Spencer it consumed all of your brain chemistry. Day and night making fantasies of how it would be meeting the boy again with the help of destiny, falling in love and maybe being obsessed with you the same way you were with him. But you knew that it was just a fantasy and it would never happen, it was just your brain trying to distract you from the real world and your real problems.

It was a nice escape though.

You know how scared I am of elevators

Never trust it if it rises fast

It can't last

Everything happened so fast in your time vision, it terrified you of how easy he was able to get through it. You were always scared of relationships because, yeah, it was nice and easy to fantasy about it, but to actually live it? That scared the shit out of you. All your Inexperience, insecurities and traumas couldn't be fixed from one day to another.

Everything that you learned from your parents was that if you dived in too quickly, it would be a mistake. Not only from your parents, but also from people you were close to, seeing their relationship rise too fast and going effortlessly and awfully down.

You never understood why they keept doing it, sinking into the same situation over and over again, sometimes with the same or a different guy. How they kept being pulled and compelled by it? You didn't understand because you never felt it.

It was so scary how relationships could rise so fast and sink at the same speed.

Uh oh, I'm falling in love

Oh no, I'm falling in love again

Oh, I'm falling in love

You understood why they kept like that in the worst — best— way possible.

When it first hit you that you were falling in love with Spencer felt like a harsh slap in your face, leaving red bruises and a terrible burning in. You didn't want to accept it, it was frightening to actually let it in.

Was getting hard with the passing time, he wasn't getting any easier and neither were his loving and caring acts. I mean, how could someone like him be so.. careful with you? You felt like a broken piece who would never be loved and receive this kinda of treatment, it was starting to confuse you.

You knew he wasn't the type of person who liked being touched or touching other ones, but with you? Every possibility of being close to you, hugging you, touching your hand and giving a sweet cuddle in that same spot was driving you insane. He made sure that any free time he had, he spent with you. Or even at work, in his free time that he used to call you.

Reid talked to you about his mom and his abandonment issues with his father so openly that made you open yourself with him too. You didn't want to scare him telling him about your family situation or make him think you're a weird, problematic person, but you couldn't let him vent to you and not say a thing. He hasn't change with you. In fact, it only bought you both closer.

You ended up accepting what you felt for him, you didn't want to fight against it, deep down was a comfort feeling. For the first time you felt what everyone around you always talked about. And oh god, it really was an amazing feeling. But no, you would never tell him that. The thought of how this could end so fast after telling him that because probably it wasn't reciprocal, hurted you so bad that keeping it to yourself was the best decision you could make.

I thought the plane was going down

How'd you turn it right around

“Why are you looking at me like that?” His voice called you off of your own thoughts, his Cheshire Cat smile growing as he saw your face turning into a shade of burgundy.

“Like what?” You asked.

“Like a deer lost in the headlights.” He snorted a laugh.

“What?! I'm not-“

He interrupted you, getting up from the chair where he was lost doing his usual puzzles. Spencer walked over to you, resting one of his hands on your face while the other one brushed away a few strands of hair that fell into your eyes. You automatically snuggled your face between Spencer's hands, smirking and closing your eyes, enjoying the gentle caress his fingers made on your cheeks.

“Tell me, please.” He begged you, you could easily hear the smile into his words. He was always so polite, it made you want to scream into a pillow and kick your feets in the air.

You sighed, tired to hide how you felt.

“Honestly? About you. I think I already fell for you.”

It only feels this raw right now

Lost in the labyrinth of my mind

You were scared of his reaction, to look at him and see his eyes falling in pity for you; About him suddenly telling you to go home because he didn't felt the same and saying that this wouldn't work between you two. But to be honest, you couldn't hide anymore, not for him and not for yourself. You needed to break free from this labyrinth you created on your mind, there's no way you could keep up with this and stay cool like it didn't made your chest burn everytime you looked at him.

He surprised you by just laughing softly.

Break up, break free, break through, break down

You would break your back to make me break a smile

“Well, i’m pretty sure i am terriefiedly in love with you.”

You swore that if this was a joke you would combust and turn into a million pieces of yourself, no one would ever find you again.

Your eyes caught up at his sparkling hazel irises that conveyed how much he begged for the same answer. You always felt something carving like a dagger inside your chest when he looked at you like that, like you could break him with any wrong do.

It was absolutely terrifying how easy he broke you to this, to this situation where you could never lie and deny that you felt the exactly same for him. You were head over heels for him. Not in a million of worlds you could imagine that Spencer Reid felt the same thing you did for him, but you were also pretty sure that you were the one who would end up with the heart completely shattered if this ever come to an end.

“I love you so much, Spence.” You said, and then his lips parted open and you were able to feel his sweet taste coming into yours.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spenced feid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x gn reader #spencer reid x fem!reader

[starry-nights-garden]

Ateez Reaction ✧ Finding out their s/o has self harm scars

✧ Ateez all members x gn!reader ✧ genre: reaction, comfort ✧ warnings: mentions of self harm/self harm scars

Author's note: I've been wanting to write something like this for a long time and always hesitated to do it because I was afraid of any unkind reactions. However, I figured that we all deserve to feel neutral and okay about our scars, so I hope that this can be a comfort to some <3

Hongjoong:

when he first happens to catch a glimpse of your scars on accident he's pretty sure that they're self harm scars

but he'll keep quiet about them, aware that he probably wasn't meant to see them, and in no way does he want to pressure you into talking about something you're not ready to

however he does make sure to drop a "you know you can tell me anything" as soon as he gets the chance for it

once you do decide to tell him though, he'll try his best to just listen and to make it clear that he would never ever judge you for something like this

won't ask too many questions so as not to overwhelm you - instead he'll convey to you that you can always come talk to him about this if you want to

definitely the type to caress and kiss your scars a lot (if you're okay with that), in order to make you feel that you don't need to be ashamed of them or hide them

he will do a lot of research on the topic as well, and will try to find ways to help spread awareness and destigmatize self harm scars

Seonghwa:

when you open up to him about your self harm scars he can't hide the shock that creeps onto his face

words aren't enough to describe just how worried he is, and even before figuring out how he should react, he'll be reaching out for your hands to wrap them tightly into his

it'll take him a while to process what you just told him, but he'll find the right words eventually

"I'm here for you if you need me. Always. Okay?"

thankful for his sincere words, you just nod, and as you're tearing up because he didn't react badly and you can feel just how much you can trust him, tears well up in his eyes as well

attempting to hide them, he offers you a warm hug instead, wanting nothing more than to make you feel protected

after that, you feel like he'll prioritize your wellbeing even more, doing his best to always be there for you and to support you in whatever way possible

he will also take having deep conversations about your feelings even more serious now, and at time where you're feeling down he will become very protective of you and pamper you as much as he can!

Yunho:

he's not sure how to react when you confess to him that you have self harm scars

you can see that he's internally panicking, because whatever he imagined this conversation was going to be about, he would've never considered this option

"A-are you okay?" - the question just bursts out of him as it's the first thing that came to mind, and it's so blunt that it almost makes you chuckle a bit

you assure him that you're okay currently, and he lets out a massive sigh of relief

but as he starts thinking about it some more, he comes to realize that he actually has a lot of questions

he desperately wants to understand your reasons and how you feel about your scars now, etcetc, so he starts carefully asking you about everything that's on his mind

tries his best to understand you as you start explaining, and if you hesitate on a question he'll immediately tell you that you don't have to give him an answer if you feel uncomfortable

talking to you about it definitely makes him feel relieved, and he also won't hesitate to ask about how to help you in a time of crisis, and how to best support you should the urge to hurt yourself return

Yeosang:

he doesn't want to pressure you to talk about them when he first sees your scars, and he's really good at pretending he doesn't know about them, but in a way that also makes it a bit harder for you to finally talk to him about them

and yet when you do manage to tell him, he's still as shocked as if he hadn't already known about them

he doesn't know how to react, so after some consideration he simply asks you how you feel about them

he really wants to know how comfortable you are talking about them, showing them, etcetc, so that he can react more appropriately

will make sure to match your energy on this - if you're uncomfortable he'll go slow and offer that you can talk about them whenever you want to, while also assuring you that you don't have to; if you're comfortable he'll let himself be a bit more curious

either way he will trust you on what you tell him, and when you assure him that he doesn't have to worry he will believe you

instead, he'll offer an open ear whenever you need it, and he will prove to you that it was the right decision to open up to him about it

San:

fears the worst when he catches a glimpse of your scars one day, but tells himself he shouldn't ask about them and instead wait until you're ready to talk about them yourself

but of course this guy will be worried sick within only a few days, until he ends up very carefully asking you about them

and when you confirm his assumption about your scars, he becomes so worried and at the same time so sad that you had to go through such pain that you would resort to hurting yourself

will approach you very slowly, and then cup your face in his hands to get a good look at you, and you swear nobody has ever looked at you with such pure and deep love in their eyes

"If there's anything I can do to make it better... please tell me. I'll do anything."

you nod, and you let him pull you into a loving kiss that he doesn't seem to want to break as his lips linger on yours

aside from the initial shock, he deals with it quite well, but he definitely becomes more protective of you from then on

makes sure to check in with you whenever you seem down or stressed, and reminds you to take care of yourself just as much as he offers to be there for you whenever you need him

if you're okay with it, he will make a habit of tracing your scars mindlessly, while whispering promises about how he'll do whatever he can so that you would never have to feel this bad ever again

Mingi:

the first time he sees your scars he won't know how to react immediately

however, he's sensible enough to figure that he should try to stay calm first of all

but he also knows that if he doesn't ask about them, he will probably lie awake at night, unable to stop worrying about you

and so he somewhat awkwardly asks what those scars are, and when you give him an honest answer he'll be both relieved and shocked

relieved because it means you trust him a lot, and shocked because now he's wondering what kind of pain you must've gone through to make you hurt yourself

this guy immediately offers you open arms in case you want a hug, and when you accept the embrace he'll tell you that whenever you're having a hard time, he'll be there to protect you

doesn't ask any questions and won't make you talk about it, but from then on you notice him checking up on how you're feeling just a bit more frequently, and he makes sure to make you feel that you always have someone to lean on with him, even during difficult conversations

over time he will definitely start giving your scars a lot of attention, especially when you’re cuddling, tracing them with his fingers and kissing them, while repeatedly whispering to you how much he loves you

Wooyoung:

his first thought when he sees your scars isn't that you caused them yourself, but rather that someone else hurt you

so he's understandably upset, and will immediately reach out for you, asking about who did this to you

until it dawns on him that something's not quite right, because now you're staring at him in shock, and eventually you manage to whisper a "me"

he lets go of you and apologizes for reacting like he did, and you can undoubtedly see how he's calming himself down in order to reassess the situation properly

"Do you... want to talk about it?" - he eventually figures he should just ask, and let you decide what to do with this situation

will listen intently in case you say yes, and when you explain to him why you hurt yourself he will make you promise to come talk to him instead, should you ever feel the urge again

gives you kisses and headpats and hugs and anything else you might want after you make the promise, and when he brings you in for a tight hug he'll whisper a thank you for trusting him enough to tell him about it

Jongho:

he won't make it obvious, but by the time you tell him about your scars, he already has a good guess about what they are, based on the few glimpses he's caught of them so far

will control his reaction to your confession very well, so as not to make you worry about his feelings and to focus on you

acknowledges what you choose to tell him about it, and will listen to what you have to say rather than asking questions about it

"You know if there's something you want to talk about, you can always tell me." - will assure you of that while brushing a thumb against your cheek

however, it will soon become obvious that he's more worried than he initially allowed himself to show, because now he refuses to leave your side if you're not feeling well, and somehow you feel like he's more reluctant to let you go when he hugs you

as you talk more about it, he'll trust that you will come talk to him before doing anything stupid, but still he'll stay at least a little protective of you and offer to help distract you in case you feel the need to hurt yourself again

he too is the type who will find himself touching your scars every now and then (if you give him the okay), kissing them or tracing them with his fingertips in hopes that one day you would associate them with something positive as well

#ateez fluff #ateez comfort #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez x gn reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #comfort #fluff #reaction

[mishkakagehishka]

I completely forgot Easter was supposed to be a Catholic holiday not just "chocolate day" so uhhh how you usually commemorate it ? I'm now a bit curious since the chocolate always have been my focus

...my immense sweet tooth might be a weakness at this point...

Dbdbdjdj hmm. In my family, we fast on Good Friday (tho i guess i won't be allowed this year given my meds have to be taken with meals😔 just because i'm exempt doesn't mean i wouldn't wanna fast but oh well), we don't do much on saturday, paint eggs, most often, and then on sunday you have the whole morning mass - get the eggs, bread, ham, salt and the rest of the Easter breakfast foods blessed, eat after mass and so on.

The biggest festivity of the day is, of course, egg-cracking, which is when we have a battle royale where everyone grabs an egg and tries to use it to break the opponent's egg. Well, kidding, but it's a pretty fun way to go about eating eggs lmfao

Tbh i don't really remember chocolate being much of a thing in my family's Easters, chocolate eggs are, actually, a Christmas thing for us, though you can by Easter-themed chocolate bunnies and eggs, too.

In any case, it's a pretty chill holiday? By lunch, it's "over" really, though the leftovers of the blessed food (that doesn't get eaten before it went bad) do get buried rather than thrown away, I thought that was a bit peculiar, though I get why. Honestly the most grueling part of it is the Friday fast. I barely make it to midnight without a massive headache. The only way around it for me is by keeping busy but </3

#hmm. i'd like to be able to go to confession and such but i wonder #it's not proper to say ''i don't have time'' but i feel so stretched out #i'll be travelling on friday and saturday i'm spending with the besties #i don't think there's confessions before Easter mass in the church i go to but we'll see i suppose #i didn't even make if for Christmas. i don't talk much ab being religious and all but like bro #that lack of Eucharist does get me anxious sometimes #asks #oooo i don't wanna use the christian tags. social media christians scare me a bit. sorry for all who have religion blacklisted #i'm hoping the mentions will catch it </3

[starsbits]

went into the tumblr tag for a show i've been watching w my grandma and really enjoying just for funsies yknow to see if anyone else knows about it. only to find out not only that it's apparently still ongoing and has a sizable fan base and has 17 seasons but also that there's two gay characters that are NOT the ones i was expecting.... wishing there were also lesbians

#it's. murdoch mysteries ITS A FUN SHOW OK. I LIKE IT.... #i thought crabtree and higgins were the highest contenders for being the gay couple i saw mentioned but apparently it's two characters i- #-haven't seen yet #i'm on season ummm... 6? 7? idk #but i didn't start watching it with her until she was well into the show so i also need to go back and catch up to where i started #i like how progressive and open minded murdoch is especially considering the time period it's set in :] so gay recurring characters is so- #-cool. but now that i know it's still ongoing here's to hoping they make emily a lesbian like I KNOW SHE IS!!!!! #<-murdoch the character and also the show in general #murdoch is also a lesbian to me. TO ME. he makes me feel butch gender envy so therefore he's a butch lesbian #my grandma is a big murder mysteries fan i've seen so many obscure ones bc of her. this one is very fun and up my alley. my other fav- #-to watch with her is murder she wrote bc i <3 jessica fletcher #starspeaks

[chuluoyi]

the secret wife

- nanami kento x reader

follow the first years’ misadventures as they find out that apparently, the infamous 7:3 sorcerer is also a dutiful and loving husband in private!

genre/warnings: crack, fluff, the first years are simply chaotic, an attempt at humor, gojo cameo (he’s so insufferable), mentions of pregnancy, nanami being the best husband there is

note: based on an anon's suggestion, this is a spin-off to love entries' wife (so gojo is married to love entries reader naturally!) this is full chaos and crack omg so sorry and isn't proofread bc i’m kinda tired so pls forgive any mistakes and my dry humor :')

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

On one fine, sunny day, which was supposed to be a calm and relaxing afternoon...

“Hello? Yuji—”

Megumi could've sworn, they weren't usually this nosy.

“Gojo-sensei! It's urgent!”

Call it indulgence, because Nobara's curiosity just got the better of her.

“Oh? What's—”

“Does Nanamin have a wife!?”

And Yuji... well, he just needed answers, because the three of them were now in the ‘Mom and Baby’ section of department store, having just witnessed a monumental sight of their esteemed mentor, Nanami Kento—

—with a remarkably stunning woman hanging onto his arm.

“Huh?” Gojo's confusion was evident from the other line. Oh, yeah. Yuji had decided to cut to the chase and call him too, hoping for a swift clarification.

Okay, so why were the trio—plus Gojo on the speakerphone—hiding behind a pillar just to spy on Nanami and his very possible wife? Let us rewind 30 minutes before...

Yuji considers himself to have an exceptional eye and taste for women.

And 30 minutes ago, when he fell on his butt on the rough, hard asphalt in the jammed Shibuya crossing after accidentally getting shoved by the crowd, and encountered a kind, vivacious older woman—you, who extended a hand to help him up, he was even more convinced of that.

“Are you alright, Itadori-kun?” your soft voice entered his ears, catching him off-guard, and Yuji was certain of two things then.

One, that you were just like a literal angel descended from skies above, all dolled up and pretty with your flowy sundress.

“Ah, uh—” he stammered, eyes darting everywhere and anywhere at once as his palm started sweating after clasping your hand. “I-I am…”

And two, for the life of him, he had no idea who you were.

But it registered late in his mind to ask as he was busy controlling his ragged breathing and instant crush, and before Yuji knew it, you graced him with another kind smile and went on your way.

And did he feel so miserable afterwards.

. . .

“She’s sooo hella pretty, Fushiguro! And she knows me! Me!”

Megumi sighed, eyeing his friend in disgust. Truthfully, all he wanted was to return to the dorms and collapse onto his bed, and not listen to his friend’s incoherent ramblings.

"You sure you weren't imagining things?" Nobara questioned with slight irritation. "After you embarrassed us in front of Gojo-sensei's wife a while back, please think more before you act."

"I'm not, I swear! She said my name!"

"Itadori, can you please just not?" Megumi grumbled, having enough of this ruckus. "I want to walk back in peace."

And so tucking away his pout, Yuji walked in silence just as his best friend asked, and he was really going to leave it at that when suddenly he caught the sight of a familiar pristine coat and the sundress from earlier. “Oh?”

"Isn't that Nanami-san?" Nobara also spotted him, her eyes widening when she saw you, who was happily beaming as well as Nanami's light chuckle. "And wait, who is—?"

"That's her!" Yuji burst out, pointing decisively in your direction. "That's who I was talking about!"

Oh, no. Megumi dreaded it already. He could already see the utter catastrophe—

"I'm going after them!"

"Wait, Itadori! Me too!"

Too late. Before he could stop them, Nobara and Yuji had followed the pair. Reluctantly, Megumi trailed behind them too, albeit wearing a vexed scowl. Yet despite his misgivings, he couldn't deny that the things he saw over the next 30 minutes were genuinely unexpected.

Nanami consistently led you to a quieter spot away from the bustling crowd, his hand holding yours firmly. He would occasionally throw you a smile, or when you didn’t hold hands, then he’d wrap an arm around your waist. And to the trio's bewilderment, they also saw him tenderly brushing his lips against your head while on the escalator.

Soft and gentle. It was a side of Nanami Kento they had never witnessed—either with anyone else or even himself.

The two of you ventured through home appliances, visited food stalls, and eventually... the ‘Mom and Baby’ section.

"Do you want to rest for a bit?" Nanami's voice held a touch of concern as his hand settled on the small of your back, and seeing that, Nobara positively swooned.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," you responded with a reassuring smile. "Let's head over there. I'd like to see that next!"

Watching you and Nanami meticulously going through strollers and cribs like a pair of would-be parents was apparently too mind-blowing for Yuji and Nobara, leading to the decision to call Gojo right then and there. And, as they say, the rest was history.

"Last I heard, Nanami wasn't married," Gojo answered resolutely. "If he is, then it's the ultimate betrayal because he never told me!"

"But we see him with a woman! At mother and baby care section!"

Gojo hummed in thoughtful manner. "Okay, students. Now I'm tasking you to see this to the very end! Keep me on the line!"

With that, Operation: Uncover Nanami's Wife was officially underway, and frankly, the way the three of them were clumsily tailing the 7:3 sorcerer made Megumi want to facepalm. How was it that Nanami hadn't noticed their rather conspicuous attempts at all?

Now you were fawning over baby clothes, cutely trying not to squeal as you picked a little blue and yellow overalls. "Kento! Kento! Look, how cute!"

And all of them were floored once again when the expression on his face softened, as a warm smile adorned his lips. "Yeah, they are."

"Is she pregnant? She doesn't look it..." Nobara remarked, squinting and frowning, still watching the two of you like a hawk.

"Or maybe they're shopping for someone else?" Megumi suggested, earning teasing grins from Yuji and Nobara, to which he quickly rolled his eyes, as they chorused, "Looks like you're curious too!"

After a while, you moved from the clothes to sections stocked with mother's necessities. Yuji leaned against one of the racks, pressing his ear against it, with Nobara and Megumi crowding behind him, attempting to catch a snippet of your conversation with Nanami.

"I think we should get some heat packs and these pillows—"

"Oh, Kento! You're such a worrywart, I still won't need them for a few more months—"

"Wait, what?" Yuji whipped his head around in surprise, causing Nobara, who was leaning on him, to stumble and inadvertently collide with the racks.

"Eh? Huh!?"

Unfortunately, the racks weren't sturdy enough, and the force caused them to sway dangerously. Nobara, sensing her imminent fall, instinctively grabbed Yuji's arm to steady herself. However, he got tugged instead and their combined weight exacerbated the situation, leading to the racks quickly toppling over and a deafening commotion ensued—

Crash!

"Careful!" Nanami immediately pulled you behind him, a protective arm around your shoulder, sensing your shock from the sudden crash. He was on high alert, expecting some sort of attack of cursed spirits, but instead, he was met with the most astounding sight of the bickering culprits amidst the fallen racks.

"Kugisaki! What are you doing!"

"You dumbass! Why didn't you stop me from falling?!"

"Itadori-kun...?" Nanami called out in utter disbelief, his mind couldn't fathom as to why the first years were here. However, his attention quickly shifted to Megumi, who was seething and sending his friends a glare so hard it could drill a hole into them.

Then, the boy swiftly fixed himself into a low bow in front of him, ashamed, disregarding Yuji and Nobara's groans altogether. "Nanami-san, I'm very, very sorry on their behalf."

"What are the three of you doing here?" he inquired, and poor Megumi seemed at a loss, huffing as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of where to even start.

Meanwhile you were full of worry for the fallen kids. "Oh my gosh, are you alright?"

For the second time today, you tried to help Yuji to stand on his feet, and this time, he really had a good look over you.

It wasn't exactly noticeable due to how loose your dress was, but now he could see that under it, your belly was slightly rounded—an unmistakable baby bump.

Amidst his shock and pain, Yuji couldn't bring himself to take your hand as he inadvertently let this slip, "N-Nanamin! You knocked her up!"

Nanami blinked. You gaped. Megumi and Nobara went pale in sheer horror, ready to murder their friend on the spot for his extreme height of rudeness.

“Itadori-kun,” Nanami cleared his throat then, and if he was offended, then he chose not to show it. “First of all, I’m sorry for not introducing you sooner. This is Y/N, my wife, and yes,” his tone hardened slightly, “She’s carrying our first child.”

“S-so you are married!”

“Yes, that was what I—”

“What the hell?! NANAMIIII!”

Oh, the freaking phone. After his fall, Yuji’s phone ended up on the floor, and of course, Gojo did hear all of the entire madness, evident from how his voice blared from the phone.

Nanami frowned, unwittingly reaching out towards the phone. “Who—?”

“NA-NA-MI!" Gojo screeched in righteous exasperation, and the former immediately pulled away from the phone with a cringe. “How could you?! I invited you to my wedding! Are you a hermit or something—how could not tell anyone!? Didn’t you say I can officiate—”

“I said no such thing. Please refrain from saying outrageous things, it’s both annoying and misleading,” Nanami stressed, growing more irritated by the mere sound of Gojo's whining voice and feeling his patience waning rapidly.

"Aren't we friends?! How—!"

"Should I find you instigate one more of this... shenanigans with the kids, I won't hesitate to report you to Yaga and your wife," he interjected then with clear irritation, and right that second, Gojo shut himself up.

Yuji, Nobara and Megumi couldn't help drawing that one conclusion in wonder: So, that's what Gojo-sensei is afraid of.

Nanami swiftly ended the call with a flick of his finger, returning the phone to the still mystified Yuji. Turning back to the trio, Nanami's irritation simmered as he glanced at the mess of broken goods on the floor, as well as noticing the approaching clerks.

"You three..." Nanami started, his voice rising slightly, unfaltering even as the three of them flinched. "Do you realize what you've done? Are you so idle that you can ditch your assignments?"

"Kento, don't be too harsh," you rebuked, placing a hand on his arm with a frown on your face. Nanami sighed, looking over the situation once again. It was a whole rack of baby necessities destroyed; plates, glasses, and whatnot scattered across the floor.

Nobara bit her lip in anxiety. “Oh my god, who's going to pay for all this damage?” She could already imagine the staggering amount this mess would cost. This is worth millions, anyone can go bankrupt.

There was only one person who can and will. Immediately, both Nanami and Megumi turned to her with a shared resolve.

"Gojo," Megumi blurted.

"He will be charged for everything," Nanami added with spite.

Epilogue

"You just love those kids, don't you, Kento?"

That night, when both of you were ready for sleep, Nanami had one hand caressing your still growing belly, and you teased him with a chuckle.

"Huh?" your husband looked at you in mild confusion as he stopped stroking you. "What do you mean?"

You giggled again. "You said to put it on Gojo's name, but in the end, you were the one who covered the damages first."

Nanami huffed lightly. "That's because I can't get the kids in trouble. But mark my words, I'll make sure Gojo pays up later, by force if I need to." He made a face when he remembered just what a massive bill it was. "That's too much money to be spent carelessly. We have our child and our future to consider."

"You're always like that," you sighed fondly, taking his hand and placing it back to the swell of your belly. "Always on the first line of defense for the students." Your smile widened. "It makes me think... just how lucky our kid will be with you as their father."

"On the contrary, I'm counting my blessings that they'll have someone as soft as you for their mother," your husband retorted with a smile, kissing your temple. And your heart melted into a puddle by his affectionate gesture.

"That's too sweet... ah, yeah," suddenly, you were reminded of a critical thing. “Kento, have you ever considered telling everyone else that we're married? At least to people at school?”

Nanami always wanted privacy for safety reasons most of the time, and you understood that, but seeing that Gojo and the first years knew already, you thought it might be the best time to let everyone know.

"I honestly don’t see the need to, why?"

"People like Gojo are confused—"

Your husband rolled his eyes then. "Don’t worry, dear. People like Gojo exist to spread the word so we don't have to."

#nanami kento x reader #jjk fluff #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento #jjk x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami #jujutsu kaisen #kento nanami x you #nanami fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[lowkeyremi]

Arranged Marriage hcs with Toji (fem reader)

AU where Toji has cursed energy and was picked by the zenin clan. (he still hates them lol) also he doesn't meet mamagumi so megu is your biological son in this au :3

note: just some quick hcs cuz i couldn't get this thought out of my head. I've seen a bunch of arranged marriage satoru related things but I thought I'd switch it up. mentions of pregnancy

Arrangedhusband!Toji hates his family and refuses to get married just to fuck them over. (they want an heir)

Arrangedhusband!Toji who goes on a complete rampage when the news about his soon to be marriage finally reaches him through hushed whispers of some maids.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who immediately goes to see Naobito, former head of the Zenin Clan to ask what the fuck is going on.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who is enraged when he hears "you were given the opportunity to settle down yourself, but you didn't so we took matters into our own hands."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who requests to not have a wedding, he'll just sign the damn papers and get it over with.

Arrangedhusband!Toji doesn't visit you for at least a week upon your arrival. He's still pissed.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who finally decides to go visit you, he knocks on your door. You were given your own room to adjust to everything even though Naobito wanted you to be with Toji.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who's shocked when Mai opens the door and he sees you getting your hair done by Maki. The twins decorated your hair with a bunch of different flowers. (they're like maybe 10 in this)

Arrangedhusband!Toji who just stares at you. He doesn't say a word because he doesn't really know what to say. He didn't even know what you looked like until right now.

Arrangedhusband!Toji snaps out of his trance when you break the silence. "Good morning, Toji. It's nice to finally meet you." He catches on to your attitude at the end of your sentence and he doesn't even realize his lip quirking upward. Here he was thinking you'd be some damsel in distress, but it turns out you're pretty confident.

Arrangedhusband!Toji responds with "Uh, hey.." Is that the best he could come up with? You've left him at a loss for words.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who tries to get his shit together and deepens his voice to try and intimidate you a little. "Mornin', [name]. I'll send some maids over this way later. You are to accompany me for dinner tonight."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who hides a growing smile when you say, "Taking me on a first date after getting married? I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be the other way around."

Arrangedhusband!Toji sits at the table waiting for your arrival. After seeing you he wanted to spend some alone time getting to know you, but his mother insisted on throwing a proper welcome dinner with the whole family.

Arrangedhusband!Toji requested that you sit right next to him. When you arrive someone ushers you to your seat. He whispers quietly enough for only you to hear, "being late to a family dinner isn't a good look for ya, pretty."

"well, excuse me for getting lost like three times." you say with a roll of your eyes. Naobito clears his throat, and Toji sighs.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who mumbles "thank you for the food." so everyone could start eating. He gets a little defensive when Naobito bombards you with questions, "I hope you are settling in well, but I'll get straight to business. When do you think you'll be ready to bear a child?"

Arrangedhusband!Toji who gets ready to speak up for you but you quickly cut him off, "Not anytime soon, sir. No offense. I just met your nephew today. I did not come here to be bred like some dog. I came here to settle the dispute between our families." Everyone is shocked by your words. You just told off the former head of the clan..

Arrangedhusband!Toji is proud of you. "I agree with her." Naobito gives him a sour look before responding, "Toji, you need to get a better hold on your woman. She should have some manners."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who gets up from the table and hauls you over his shoulder. It's embarrassing to say the least but neither of you speak a word until you're far enough away.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who sets you down, a smirk prominent on his face, "That was so bad ass. No one's ever spoke to him that way."

"Really? Not even you? That's surprising, you seem like the rebellious type."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who really starts to grow on you. He follows you everywhere and he learns something new about you every day, as do you too. He never restricts your freedom and supports many of your actions.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who will even spar with you sometimes when you're looking to improve.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who feels his heart swell a little bit when you kiss him. He's never felt anything like this before, and he doesn't want to admit that he'll get used to it.

Arrangedhusband!Toji invites you to finally move into his own bedroom, since "we've been married for a few months now."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who likes seeing your stuff alongside his in his room.

Arrangedhusband!Toji feels happier than he has in years. All his family wanted to do was train him to perfection and treat 'worthless' women like shit. He didn't want any of that though. So he sees you as a blessing in disguise.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who itches to give you a baby after seeing how you are around his twin cousins. You're gentle, but you never forget to scold them when they get into trouble.

Arrangedhusband!Toji after your second year anniversary brings up the idea to you, "Not for the selfish reasons my uncle wants. Just for us. We could even live somewhere else." You two are sitting in your shared bedroom. His eyes tell no lies, "What do you mean by live somewhere else? I don't think it matters how far we go, baby. If Naobito catches wind of a potential Zenin heir he'll track us down."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who assures you he could take care of this situation, if you wanted to have a baby. He doesn't want his future child/children to have to go through the same abuse he went through.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who doesn't know that you're already a month or two pregnant.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who has one of his "friends" come get you to take you to your new home. "Toji, you should come with me. I don't think this is a good idea."

"I'll see you in a day or two. I love you, baby. Gojo, no funny business or I'll fuck you up." He threatens.

"Are you doubting me, my dear friend? I wouldn't let anything happen to your precious wife." Toji flip him off. You watch as his figure gets smaller and smaller until you can't see him anymore. (they're frenemies in this au)

Arrangedhusband!Toji who immobilizes his uncle, which takes great effort. He doesn't come out fully unscathed. He's okay, though. He's doing it for his and your future.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who utters something to Naobito before leaving the Zenin clan, "I don't ever want to see your face again, you old geezer. Don't ever come looking for me or my wife, because the next time we meet, I'll kill you."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who knocks on the door of your new apartment and is relieved to see that you're just how he left you.

You gasp at his beat up stature and you sit him down to clean him up.

"They'll never bother us again." He mutters and he sees you smile a little bit.

"I'll miss the twins," you say with a little sigh. He moves his big hand to cup your face as you are trying to wipe the blood off of his, "You've taught them plenty. I'm sure they'll follow our path and make it out of the clan sooner or later."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who is thrilled when you tell him you're pregnant.

Arrangedhusband!Toji goes to extreme lengths to protect you and you have to remind him you can still accomplish things on your own.

Arrangedhusband!Toji Husband!Toji who has both your last names changed to Fushiguro to help hide his identity. You actually debated with him about this.

"Toji, you literally just chose the first name you saw on a site of Japanese last names. We need to put thought into it."

"Oh come on baby, you gotta admit Toji Fushiguro sounds better than Toji Zenin." He never fails to find a lazy way out of things.

Husband!Toji who lets a single tear fall from his eye when he sees you cradling your little boy.

"He looks just like you." You grumble playfully and his lips quirk up into a smirk, "Eh what can I say? He got the good genes."

You fight the urge to hit him with a pillow.

Husband!Toji tells the nurse the name you two agreed on for your son, "Megumi Fushiguro."

Husband!Toji who always gets scolded by you for using bad words around your son.

"Fuck!" Megumi yells when he colors outside of the line. Your head whips around so fast and Toji looks away.

"Gumi! Don't say that. That is a very bad word." You tell him. He tilts his head to the side, "Well Dad says them."

"Does he now? I'm pretty sure Dad knows he shouldn't say those words." After a minute Toji thinks he's in the clear so he turns his head back to see you glaring at him.

"I won't do it again." He hears you mumble 'liar.'

Husband!Toji who's mad that despite his looks, his son is a complete mama's boy. "Hey kid, wanna head to the park for a little 'while?"

"Can mama come?" Your husband grunts.

"Nah, it'll just be me and you. Father and son." He says with a grin hoping to bait him.

Megumi goes back to his video he's watching. With an uninterested tone he responds, "Oh, then I don't wanna go."

He rolls his eyes and walks away, "Well whatever."

Husband!Toji who decided he wants a do over, and gives you the proper wedding you deserve.

Husband!Toji who loves you and his son very much. He couldn't have asked for anything better than this. You are his blessing.

tagging @blkkizzat bc this is her man LMAO

#toji fushiguro #toji zenin #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji #toji zenin x reader #toji fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #zenin clan #megumi fushiguro

[skzdarlings]

the demonstration ; skz ; jeongin x reader

requested by anonymous: you keep your hands where they are or i'll tie them up. ❜ w Jeongin? 😩 please 🥰. requested by anonymous: I.N AND ❛ do whatever you want with me, i'm yours. ❜ ❛ you taste like heaven. ❜ PLEASE IF YOU CAN BEGGING YOU

pairing: yang jeongin/reader content info: friends to lovers. reader asks jeongin if he has ever made someone squirt and if so please show her hehe. reader mentions a bad date with a rude guy who called her high-strung. squirting, pussy-eating, riding, just a good time lol. explicit sexual content. word count: 4000 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy <3

-

Jeongin is finally awake when you return to his apartment.  You visited this morning but he must have had a late night because the flat was dark and silent when you let yourself in. You went for a stroll, hoping the fresh air would clear your mind, but what you really needed was him.  A conversation with Jeongin always improves your mood.  Just thinking about those deep dimples brings out your own smile.  

“Hi there,” you say sweetly.  You close the door and replace your shoes with the slippers he keeps for you.  You bound up to the kitchen counter.  “Can I ask you something?”  

Jeongin clearly just rolled out of bed.  Far from glamourous, your nonetheless very handsome friend is wearing a hoodie and sweatpants and his black thick-rimmed glasses.  He has the hood pulled over his head, his dishevelled black hair peeking out.  A bowl of ramen sits in front of him, though his sleepy gaze is on his phone, long ringed fingers curled around the device. 

You look at those fingers thoughtfully, your mouth a little drier than before.  Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all…

It’s too late.  Jeongin emerges from the slumped cavern of his hoodie, lifting his bespectacled face.  He dutifully puts his phone facedown on the counter.   Pushing his sleeves to his elbows, he says, “Of course.  Hi.  How are—”  He yawns before he can finish.  The yawn breaks into a wheezy little laugh.   

You take the seat across from him at the kitchen island and watch him twirl his chopsticks.  Nimble fingers flip them around before he digs into his noodles, slurping a little ungracefully.  He swallows almost half the bowl in a scoop.  Your eyes are still on his hands.   

“Jeongin,” you say.  “Have you ever—oh, no, thank you.” 

He is holding out a clump of noodles on his chopsticks.  When you decline, he shoves it in his own mouth. 

“Jeongin,” you say again.  “Have you ever made a girl squirt?”

He chokes on the noodles.  It gets ugly quick.  You emit a little squeak of your own when he thumps on his chest so hard that his hood falls back and his glasses fall off.  He hacks up the noodles and spits some across the island. 

“Are you okay?” you ask.     

“I’m fine,” he says in a rough voice, squinting hard like a beleaguered puppy.  He fumbles with his glasses, blinking quickly once they are back on his face.   Then he reaches for his water bottle and unscrews it with a flick of his fingers.  He rubs his chest while drinking.

You purse your lips, watching him.  His profile is so defined, his jaw so sharp and cheekbones high.  He really is ridiculously handsome.  And those hands.  You look at the prominence of the veins running down his forearm, the subtle strength in his slender form, the long easy grace of his fingers.  If any man is turning women into waterfalls, it must be him.

“So,” you say, “have you ever done it?”

He chokes on his water, but not as dramatically as the noodles.  It’s a messy hiccup and he dribbles water down his chin, barely catching it in the cup of his hand.  He puts the bottle aside and wipes his hand on his thigh. 

“I don’t think I understand the question,” he finally says. 

“What? ‘Have you ever made a girl squirt?’” you ask, tipping your head.  “Sorry, what’s confusing?”

“Um.”  He looks at you in bewilderment.  “The part where you are asking me it?” 

“Oh.”  A little – okay, a lot of embarrassed heat explodes in your chest.  It radiates out with rapid-fire speed, scalding your neck and your face. 

You lower your gaze.  His dark eyes and expressive brows are now too intense for you.  You fiddle with your fingers in your lap, thumbs pushing at each other. 

“Well,” you say, slowly.  You look anywhere but him. “Something sort of happened.”

When you chance an upward glance, he is looking at you very studiously.   

“Sort of…” he says, looking more confused by the second.  “Did you… sort of… squirt?”

You cover your face, suddenly embarrassed beyond words.  Why did this seem like a good idea again?  You were so convinced a few minutes ago that this was a totally fine conversation to have with your friend.  Now you want the floor to open up and swallow you whole. 

You make a miserable little sound into your palms and Jeongin finally laughs.  His whole face crinkles with delight and he laughs so hard that it sounds like he can barely breathe.

“Don’t laugh at me!” you wail. 

“I’m not, I’m not,” he lies, because he is laughing his ass off while he says it.  “Come on, it’s fine.  Stop hiding.” 

He reaches across the counter for you.  You jerk away, mewling pathetically, which just makes him laugh again.  He eventually uses both hands to peel apart your death grip.  You still avoid his gaze, staring down at the counter, but he dips his head to chase your eyes. 

“There you are,” he says when your gazes meet.  “Crazy girl!  Ask me again.” 

“I forgot the question,” you say, petulant.

He snorts.  “I didn’t,” he says.  “You wanted to know if I ever made a woman—”

“Yes, I know what I asked!” you say, shaking your head.  You see him smile, a giant grin of immense amusement as you tug at your cheeks in distress.  “I’m sorry I asked.  It’s just that…”

“Something sort of happened?” he supplies when you trail off. 

“Technically,” you say, “something sort of didn’t happen.” 

“Ohhh.”  He returns to looking bashful, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Were you… with… someone?”

“Mhm.”  You both look at the kitchen counter while you speak.  “I had a date.  I planned the whole thing out.  You know me, I like a plan.”  You try to laugh but a flood of humiliation washes over you, the recollection of last night and how everything went so, so wrong.  You close your eyes and sigh.  “Ugh.  It was going well so I brought him back to my place.  Things got heated.  He said he was really good at… doing that… I said I had never done it before and he got excited and said I would like it.  I think I just… thought about it too much.  You know me!  I like a plan!  That wasn’t the plan!  Anyway, we put a towel on the bed which is why it was even more embarrassing when I couldn’t… when he couldn’t make me… ugh.”  You flop forward, pressing your forehead to the cold marble countertop.  “He called me high-strung and left.” 

You lift your head slowly, looking at Jeongin for his reaction.  His expression is all scrunched up like he smells something bad.  Then he gestures as if he is vomiting, making the noisy hurling sounds to match. 

You laugh in spite of yourself, nodding.

“I know, I know, you’re right,” you say.  “He sucked.” 

“High-strung?” Jeongin says, the word tumbling out like a curse.  “He said that?  Pffft—” 

You are glad you came to him.  Your other friends would have been protective and encouraging, which is nice, but Jeongin’s helpless laughter is more reassuring than anything.  That other guy was so pathetic that all Jeongin can do is laugh. 

Even so, you do feel a little sensitive about the whole thing.  You are smiling now but your gaze stays low.  You trace circles on the counter. 

“I know he… he was just embarrassed too.  He was rude to me, but… he wasn’t totally wrong.”

“No,” Jeongin says, shaking his head.  “No, no, no—”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you insist.  You let him take your hands and squeeze, but you talk before he can interrupt.  “Look he didn’t exactly handle it well but I… I am a little… um, overly thoughtful at times.  I’m not good at doing things in the spur of the moment.  It scares me and I think too much and once I start thinking I can’t stop.”  You let go of his hands, giving them one last friendly pat before you neatly fold your hands on the counter.  “Anyway, I asked you what I did because I was hoping you could instruct me so I can practice.  That way next time it happens, I won’t get scared and think so much.”

You smile at him. 

He slowly takes his glasses off, his mouth open. 

“Oh,” he says.  “Okay.  Um.” 

“Soooo… have you?” 

The tips of his ears turn a vibrant red and he puts his reading glasses aside.  He takes a second to rub his eyes with an incredible amount of vigour.  You wait patiently and politely, watching him tug down the sleeves of his hoodie then push them back up.  Those long fingers swipe through his hair once, twice.  Finally, he crosses his arms and nods sharply. 

“Yes,” he says.  “I have.” 

Oh.

The subject of your abstract thought suddenly becomes a tangible reality.  You cannot get the unbidden mental image out of your head: Jeongin, knuckle-deep in the very wet, very soft heat of someone lucky, wringing every last bit of pleasure out of them.  It is unexpectedly easy to imagine yourself in their place, his dark head between your thighs and his steady arm at work. 

You cross your legs.  He notices. 

“Would you mind showing me?” you ask. 

“Showing you?” he repeats, his thick eyebrows high on his face.  “Showing you?” 

“Yes,” you say.  You are so preoccupied with your mental image that it takes a moment to realize your phrasing might be misconstrued.  “Not like that!” 

He jumps in surprise. 

“Oh my god.”  You put your hands over your face again.  “I meant… abstractly.  Draw it.  Or tell me.  I didn’t mean—oh my goodness.”

His ears are still red but Jeongin dissolves into giggles again.   Your mortification works wonders on his dimples. 

“I’m not very good at drawing,” he teases, patting you on the head. 

“Oh my goodness,” is all you manage. 

His laughter is infectious, overpowering your embarrassment until you are giggling with him. 

“I’m sorry,” you say when the laughter finally slows.  You smile, chagrined and apologetic.  “It was a stupid question in the first place.  I’m really embarrassed.” 

“No, don’t be,” he says, waving his hand.  “You can tell me anything.  I was just… surprised.”

“Yeah, so was he,” you say, making both of you laugh again. 

When the laughter subsides a second time, Jeongin sighs.  He puts his discarded glasses back on, blinking his vision into his focus and smiling at you.  After the last few minutes of conversation, that smiles gives you butterflies.  You touch a hand to your stomach as if to still them, but they flutter away. 

“I have an idea,” he says, holding out his hand. 

“Oh no,” you say but take that hand without hesitation.  “Am I about to regret so many things?”

“What?  No.  When have I ever had a bad idea?” he asks while laughing, no doubt in recollection of every combined bad idea your friendship has conjured. 

You can hardly judge him for any bad ideas, though, seeing as you waltzed in here today asking your friend if he had ever made someone squirt.  It sounds very ridiculous in hindsight, but you truly do trust Jeongin so much that the idea seemed reasonable at the time. 

Now you are in his bedroom, hovering by the bedside while he plops down on his bed with a sigh.  He adjusts his glasses and the neck of his hoodie, like this is all protocol and not remotely unusual.  He takes a pillow and lays it gingerly across his lap, then looks up and beckons you forward with the come-hither crook of two fingers.  His smirk is suggestive but playful, just teasing you, but it awakens those butterflies again. 

“Come on,” he says.  “Sit.  I’ll, um, show you.”

“Show me?” you say, eying the pillow in his lap.  “Yang Jeongin, are you… about to defile that pillow?”

“Yes,” he says, nodding solemnly.  “We’re gonna make it squirt.”

“You know when I asked if you had ever done it before, I meant on a human…”

“Wow! I’m helping you with a visual demonstration and you insult me—!”

“Aha, I’m sorry!”  You burst into laughter at the incredulity on his face.   When he pushes the pillow off his lap with a show of dramatics, you wave your hands just as theatrically.  “I mean it, I mean it,” you say, though your laughter contradicts the sincerity of your words.  “Please help me.  I’m sorry, hahaha, I was just teasing, I need your help, please!”

He tries to stand up but you block him, shuffling every time he leans.  He finally grabs your hips to move you but you grab his shoulders.  Your wrestling is a light-hearted tussle, but then he starts tickling you and you stand no chance of survival.  You turn into a flailing, yelping mess, laughing as you spill across the bed with your arms around each other.   He tortures you another second, forcing another apology out of your mouth. 

When it is over, you lay there, panting.  He is leaning over you, his hands on your waist, yours on his shoulders.   Your friend likes to laugh but a very serious look crosses his face.  He looks at you like he is studying you, discovering some detail for the first time even though he has known you for years.  It is like you can feel his stare, a caress across your cheek, across your lips.  You take your bottom lip into your mouth, wetting it.

He takes a slow, deep breath. 

“That man was crazy,” he says.  His voice is lower than before, scratching above a whisper.  “You’re perfect.  He just didn’t care about getting to know you.  And that sucks for him because you—”  His voice breaks, the little squeak making him laugh, a small embarrassed sound.  The tips of his ears are red and he avoids meeting your gaze.  “You’re beautiful,” he says, “inside and out.  Any man would be lucky to be with you.” 

“Jeongin,” you say softly, because what else can you say? 

He meets your gaze.  His mouth is open like he wants to say more but he can only stare at you.  Eventually, he laughs.  He rubs the back of his neck as he sits up straight.  You sit up as well, staring at him while he adjusts his glasses. 

“Right,” he says.  “The, uh, the pillow.  I, um…”

It might have been amusing, watching him poke a pillow suggestively.  But you no longer care about that.  The energy in this room has changed, the whole world melting under the power of his words, changing the very shape of this space.  When you take a breath, all you smell is his cologne, masculine and smoky, all you see is your friend, in his hoodie and glasses with his blushing cheeks, and all you want is him.  Like this.  Right now. 

He reaches for the pillow and you reach for him.  You take his hand and he looks at you, blinking with surprise. 

You turn his hand over.  He really does have nice hands, long fingers, deft and strong.  You measure it against your own.  Then you guide his hand to your lips and kiss the tips of his fingers.  You look at him, making your eyes big, your lashes fluttering. 

“Oh,” he says.  “Oh.”

You laugh.  He cups your face and draws you close and you are both smiling when your lips come together.  Despite his blush, the kiss is ravishing.  You find yourself gasping for a breath, whimpering when he sucks your bottom lip. 

“Lay down please,” he says, speaking against your mouth. 

You nod.  Those butterflies are wild inside you.  You are certain you already look like an unravelled mess, laying on your back and breathing hard. 

He leans over you, catching your hand when you reach for him.  He kisses your palm, your fingers bumping his glasses, making you giggle.  He smiles too, the kiss lingering.  Your whole arm tingles even when he stops.  He guides your hand above your head, curling your fingers around the bars of his headboard. 

“You keep your hands where they are or I'll tie them up,” he says, but laughs at your surprised expression before the words can settle.   “You said yourself, you think too much,” he explains.  “Just lay there.  Don’t move.  Don’t think.  Let me take care of you.”  He puts a leg between yours, pushing forward with his hips to guide yours apart.  He fits there perfectly, pressing his body against yours.  Your breath catches.   “You can trust me,” he says, and somehow that gets you going more than any sexy come-on.

You trust him more than anyone.  You did not hesitate coming to him with an embarrassing story.  You ran to him before anyone else.  You always seek him out first.

You know you are safe in his hands. 

“Do whatever you want with me,” you say.  You never make that sort of offer, but it feels so natural here and now.  With him.  “I’m yours.”

“Whatever I want?” he says, his smile big and dimples deep.   He leans down, kissing your cheek then under your jaw.  When he kisses your throat, it is hot, open-mouthed kiss, all teeth and tongue.  It sends sparks shooting down your whole body, your hips bucking.  He is strong, the weight of him between your legs pinning you to the mattress.  You feel him, firm, hard, his whole body riding the rhythm of yours.  

He has not even undone a single button. 

“Whatever I want,” he repeats.  “That’s a big offer.” 

His hands, those gorgeous hands that had you captivated, slide up your thighs and under your skirt.  He stares down into your face while lifting the material, leaving a trail of goosebumps all the way up your thighs.  You feel yourself clench, a sharp pulse of need in your core.  Your body is thoughtless in its hunger and it feels so good to give into it. 

“Sometimes,” he says, “all I think about this… nothing extreme… just you like this… just us together…”

Every breath of a phrase is punctuated with a kiss, down your chest, your stomach, your thighs.  You are not expecting him to kiss you through your underwear, your hips bucking when he opens his mouth and ravishes you regardless of the barrier.  When you have soaked through the flimsy material, he finally hooks his pinkies into the fabric and tugs it down. 

You do not have time to be shy, just desperate to get them off.  He pushes your thighs back, folding you in half, then goes back to eating your pussy like he has all the time in the world, like there is no where he would rather be.  Your legs shake, your toes curling, body held firmly in his capable hands as he licks you hungrily. 

“Jeongin,” you gasp. 

“You taste like heaven,” is his reply. 

It is so cheesy but it makes you laugh, a happy sound that rumbles in your chest, that couples with pleasure and leaves your whole body singing.  You feel like you could float away. 

You are pliant, soft and malleable in his hands.  He really can do anything with you.  It does not scare you one bit.  You trust him, following his direction when he rolls you onto your side.  You gasp at his hand sliding under your shirt, squeezing your breasts, finding every sensitive nerve as he feels you up. 

“Don’t think,” he says, one arm around your chest and the other sliding down between your legs.  “Just feel, okay?” 

“Mmm,” is your only reply. 

You are so ready for him, wound up from his dirty kisses, taut with tension.  By the time those long fingers are inside you, it feels like completion rather than intrusion.  He fits like he belongs there, curling his fingers against places you never knew were sensitive.  It is like your body gives way, revealing all your secrets to his searching touch. 

“That’s it,” he says when your breathing gets erratic. 

You did not even realize he had found somewhere extra sensitive, not until he is already fucking it slowly.  By the time you realize just how soft you are there, it is too late to brace yourself.  He adds another finger and your body tightens around him.  Your eyes close and you see stars, gasping and rocking and almost crying at the dizzying swirl of sensation. 

“Oh, Jeongin,” you say.  His name is all you say for another minute.  It is the sound on your lips when he moves you, when he turns his hand just slightly, when the new angle sets off a chain reaction of feeling.  You cry out, clenching sporadically around his rapidly moving fingers.  You yank a corner of the bedspread right off the mattress.

Your orgasm seems to go on forever, pulsing and aching and clenching.  Your whole body feels boneless by the time it settles and he slips his fingers free. 

“Oops,” he says, adjusting his skewed glasses with his clean hand.  “Should’ve put a towel down after all.” 

You look down and whimper at the obvious wetness on his bedsheets.   You would apologize but he does not look sorry at all.  In fact, he grins, looking very satisfied with himself. 

You are in a state of utter disarray and he is still fully clothed, having shattered your world with just one hand.  It makes you laugh, giddy. 

Your arms finally drop.  Though it takes a minute, you find a little strength and push yourself up.  He is smiling when you climb into his lap.  He even winks at you when he puts his wet fingers in his mouth. 

You open your mouth too.  You hold his gaze while he puts his fingers in your mouth, his breath catching when you suck them eagerly. 

“I want something more,” you say. 

“Do whatever you want with me,” he echoes your words back to you.  “I’m yours.” 

He is right about the simplest fantasy making for a wonderous reality.  There are no expectations of any over-the-top actions; it is enough it is you and him, together.   Clothing ends up scattered around his room, then you are in his lap and he is holding your waist, and you are holding the bars behind his head as you ride him where he sits against the headboard. 

His glasses get askew but you fix them, laughing against his smile before kissing him again.   It is for nothing because they fall off a second later, when he grabs you and moves, putting you on your back to fuck you at another angle.  He slides a hand between you, rubbing at you, working you up. Your head falls back, your whole body tingling with the approach of another orgasm. 

“Yes, yes,” he says, no doubt feeling you get tight around him.  It is his moaning that sets you off, your legs around his hips, pulling him in close as you come together. 

He kisses all over your face, both of you laughing when he slightly misses your lips.  You find his glasses and put them back on him, meeting his re-focussed gaze and smiling. 

“Was that an okay demonstration?” he teases.  “Like I said, I’m not very good at drawing.” 

“Maybe so,” you tease back, running your fingers through his hair.  “I might need another one.  Just to be sure.” 

“Just to be sure,” he says, nodding very sagely.  “Good idea.  Maybe after that, I’ll take you out to dinner.  Then we better come back here and try again.”

“Just to be sure,” you say. 

“Just to be sure,” he agrees. 

You are already smiling when he kisses you. 

You have never been more sure about anything in your life. 

#yang jeongin x reader #jeongin x reader #yang jeongin smut #jeongin smut #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #yang jeongin x you #skz x you #stray kids x you #valentinesdaystories

[all4yoi]

only you

𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw. part 2 of just a game , hyung line , 2nd pov , ︎ fluff / comfort , lowercase intended , crying , cliche fluff omfg , karina mentioned on heeseung's & wonyoung on sunghoon's , not proofread ! part one here !

after catching them holding hands with another female, you walk away from them and they run after you, assuring you it was all a misunderstanding.

★ LEE HEESEUNG (0.5k words)

the day was coming to an end and heeseung has yet to find you.

after he had politely rejected karina, he ran after you but to no avail. all of his attempts on trying to reach you was a bootless errand. everytime he had seen a glimpse of you - whether in the cafeteria, library, the hallways, and god even in your shared class - you somehow always found a way to avoid him.

he could've simply gave up and moved on, he could've ran back to karina and date her instead. but he didn't want to give up and move on, he didn't want to run back to karina and date her, because what he wanted- needed, was you.

heeseung didn't want to go home yet, he needed to see you and explain everything. he'd be a fool to let you out his reach especially now that he knows you feel the same for him. he wasn't going to lose you because of a stupid mistake he made.

spotting a familiar figure sitting underneath a tree in the university's garden, he silently walked towards them, his fingers crossed hoping that he's finally found you.

and as if the universe was on his side, he saw you gorgeously flipping through a book with your pink earphones on. heeseung silently sat beside you, hoping you won't run away from him again. he saw how you stiffened and how your fingers stopped playing with the book's pages, and he wanted nothing but to hold your hand. it was your hand he wanted to hold- no one else's. you may not be with him yet, but ever since he realized he liked you, he was already yours before you even knew.

"y/n," he started softly, gently removing one earbud from your ear so you could hear him. you let him and look at him with hesitance, scared that he's here to tell you that he's changed his mind and he likes karina now instead.

heeseung smiled softly at you, "please let me talk and explain everything, okay?" you nodded, feeling your throat clogging up. "karina, you know she's one of my good friends, right? when you saw me holding her hand a while ago, she was the one who took my hand. i was so taken aback by her confession that i completely froze-..

because she's like a sister to me and you're the one i want. you're the one i need.. the one i like." he paused, brows furrowed in worry, hoping you'd understand. "i'm sorry for letting her hold my hand, and i'm sorry for hurting you. i really really like you y/n, please let me redeem myself to you." he finished, a small hesitant smile in his face as he studied yours.

feeling overwhelmed, you burst into tears. heeseung panicked, thinking he said something wrong and brought you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you.

"i thought you'd choose her over me." you cried in his chest, your own arms wrapping around his waist. heeseung didn't know why, but even when you were crying in his chest with your arms wrapped around his waist, he was feeling over the moon.

shaking his head, he pulled you closer if it was even possible and mumbled in your hair, "i'll choose you in a room full of other girls baby. only you."

other members utc!

★  PARK JONGSEONG (0.5k words)

3 hours was enough space right? jay liked to think it was, he was too impatient and just wanted to run to you and explain everything, but he knew you probably didn't want to see him after what you've witnessed.

jay had tried to put himself in your shoe, imagining seeing you holding hands with another boy after confessing to you- by the thought of it alone already made him feel ten times more worse, he hated himself with how much pain he had caused you.

so instead of waiting until tomorrow, jay took his bag and walked out of the cafeteria, ignoring his friends that were calling for him. he already knew where to find you, after all, he's always had his eyes on you ever since the first semester started.

jay muttered a quiet 'good afternoon' to the librarian before making a beeline towards the back of the library and there you were in your element. laptop open, headphones on with multiple books on the table you've occupied.

he liked to think that his type were girls that were a bit dumb so that he could lead the relationship, but when it comes to you? smart, pretty, and soft spoken? if his heart could speak, he's certain that the only word it can mutter is your name, and he's not ashamed to admit that.

the moment you looked up and made eye contact with him almost made his knees give up if it weren't for him holding on to a shelf to stabilize himself, and when you softly smiled at him despite what you saw that morning, it made him yearn for you more. he wouldn't ask for no one else.

call him cliché but you were the only one for him.

"what are you doing there? come sit." you motioned on the empty seat across from you to which he occupied immediately. "have you eaten?"

"have you?" he questioned back, eyeing the papers and books splattered on the table. "i had coffee." was your reply.

jay knew that you were still upset, it was showing in your body language. you were tense, stiff, and your fingers were shaking behind your laptop. he wanted to punch himself for making you feel this way.

"i'm sorry y/n, i really am." the hum you let out made him continue, his eyes studying your pretty face silently. "it's really not what it looked like-"

"everyone says that jay." the way you bit your lip told him that you didn't mean to cut his sentence off and be so harsh.

"yes, i know, it's stupid but i'm telling the truth. she bumped into me and fell, i couldn't just leave her on the floor because everyone saw our collision so i offered her a hand. that was it, i was about to walk away but she introduced herself and insisted on shaking hands.. then you saw me.

i know it looked so wrong from your perspective without context, and i'm sorry for upsetting you. i really had no other intentions, i was telling you the truth when i told you that night that i like you too, so much." he reached out for your hand, sighing in relief when you didn't pull away.

you nodded your head in understanding, squeezing his hand to tell him you now understand. "i'm sorry for jumping into conclusions and not hearing you out the first time."

he shook his head, squeezing your hand back. "it's okay, i understand. we're good now?" chuckling at him, you nodded and smiled at him. "we are, thank you."

★ SIM JAEYUN (0.4k words)

the tears in your eyes as you walked away from him made his heart crack. should he run after you? will you find him annoying? do you want him to run after you or do you want nothing to do with him now?

after arguing with himself on his head, he ran after you and engulfed you in a hug before you could turn around the corner and disappear from his sight. "please let me explain." his own voice cracked, and the weird looks you both received from the other students did not faze him at all.

"jake, not here please. they're looking at us.." he hastily took your hand and led you into an empty classroom, wanting nothing more than to assure you that what you thought is wrong and all he wanted was only you.

after he had made sure the door was locked and no one else was hiding somewhere, he immediately took your hands in his rubbing the back of your palm with his thumb.

you didn't know what to feel, was this how he held that girl's hand too? did he hold hers with gentleness too? with that in thought, your tears were back.

"no no, please don't cry. it was all a misunderstanding i promise." he held your face and wiped away the tears, his eyes held worry but so much love as well.

"she mistook me as her boyfriend, it didn't even last for 10 seconds because the moment she held my hand we both pulled away from each other.. it was just wrong timing that you saw it and we made eye contact, please believe me." he was practically crying with you right now, his own tears cascading down the apple of his cheeks.

you frantically nodded your head - now you were the one panicking at the sight of his tears. "i do, thank you for explaining. please don't cry." his tears were wiped with your thumbs as you hugged him tight.

"i don't want you to ever think i'm lying to you, you're really all i need." he explained further through his sobs, his arms tightening around you more.

there you two were, hugging each other in an empty room, tears falling down from both of your eyes as you comforted each other. and at that moment, no one else mattered - it was just the both of you in the world.

★ PARK SUNGHOON (0.6k words)

to say that sunghoon felt like shit the whole day yesterday and this morning was an understatement. he had desperately contacted you in all your social media accounts - fucking christ he even contacted you through your school's email, but to no avail, he was always left ignored.

he didn't blame you though, if he was to experience and see what you did yesterday, he would act the same - maybe even worse. sunghoon wanted nothing more but to make it up to you, to explain that he was only doing wonyoung a favor to make her crush jealous. i guess you could blame him for agreeing, but did he really have a choice when she just randomly grabbed him and told him to smile at every passing student? maybe.

he had texted wonyoung that same afternoon, telling her- demanding her politely? to explain everything to you, she told him she did but was only left on read by you. the girl apologized profusely to you and sunghoon, she didn't have any idea about the two of you and if she did - she wouldn't have done what she did.

but what's done is done, and now sunghoon is still trying to desperately reach you. throughout the day, he would hear your name coming out of other people's mouth, but not once did he catch a single glimpse of you. sunghoon was running out of options, he didn't want to be that type of guy to show up infront of your door step in fear of crossing boundaries, but he was seriously considering doing it today.

sunghoon mentally chanted your name in his head as if that would help and summon you, and you know what? maybe it did work because now he was seeing you standing across from him, your back facing towards him as you looked at the bulletin board.

not wasting any time, he raced towards you and gently grabbed your forearm, successfully turning your attention from the bulletin board to the taller boy behind you. sunghoon wanted the ground to swallow him whole when he saw how your face dropped at the sight of him.

"let's talk, please?" he whispered that only you could hear, glancing around the corridor before looking back at you. the small hesitant nod was everything he needed before he lead you in an empty hall as everyone was in the cafeteria.

sunghoon took his chance and took you in, loving the way you've dressed yourself today and he wanted to just keep you in his arms all day, but he reminded himself that he needed to clear things up and make you his girlfriend obviously before he could even do that.

"wony already explained everything, i'm sorry for assuming the wrong thing.." sunghoon was taken aback by your sudden apology, and the tightness in his chest grew.

he took your face in his hand, gently bringing your chin up so he could look you in the eye. "i should be the one apologizing.. i'm sorry for making you feel that way, i didn't have any other intentions towards her and i only like you.. so much to the point that it hurts. i'll do anything to prove it to you."

he couldn't understand that someone so precious as you could grow such feelings for him, he couldn't process and believe that he's important to someone he finds important too. should he be punished by the gods above because he finds your teary eyes enchanting? he could see his reflection in your eyes and the love it carries, and somehow he finally understands. sunghoon feels warm as he brought you to his chest, tucking your head in the crook of his neck.

"i'll show you, i'll give you my everything and my forever. you're it for me."

#enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen #enhypen angst #sunghoon angst #sunghoon imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #sunghoon x reader #jay x reader #enhypen fluff #enha fluff #heeseung angst #heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung fluff #park sunghoon fluff #sim jake x reader #jake x reader #jake fluff #jake angst #jay #park jay x you #park jay x reader #jongseong fluff #jongseong x reader #jongseong angst

[il-miele-che-scrive]

the one where Y/n and Lando used to hookup and then fell out... or did they?

lowkey inspired by the interview where Oscar talks about spending time with his gf and Lando goes "awww" cus it got my brain making up scenarios

yourusername Maybe I was too much but you could've been more and we both know it

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yourfriend1 Situationship survivor 💔

username1 Ah, she's posting half naked pics means they're done

yourfriend2 Girl I didn't cry that much over a 3 years long relationship

↳yourusername I'm not crying lmao

yourfriend2 We need to go on a girls trip

yourfriend1 I second this!!

username2 Lando's loss tbh

username3 Not Carlos nonchalantly in the likes 👀

↳username4 I can't believe he would take Lando's leftovers

username5 You two can chill, Y/n and Carlos have been friends, they're not gonna end it because of a failed situationship

username3 Exactly! Maybe they'll become something more...

username5 Carlos is Lando's best friend, he wouldn't do it to him

username3 I mean it's not like Y/n was his gf or anything, they were just hooking up

username5 Yeah maybe also say it was her fault she caught feelings after he did all the things mentioned on the 2nd pic

username6 How could he not wanna make it official with HER?

↳username4 He's rich and famous, he can have 10 girls like her if he wanted to

username7 It makes me feel better about being in a situationship myself knowing Y/n also went through it

↳yourusername Girl it's a sign to leave him, don't waste your time

username7 It's just for the plot 🤭

yourusername NOT worth it

username8 Stay strong, I promise it gets better and one day you'll find someone who'll truly care about you

↳yourusername Already did ❤️ @/yourfriend1 @/yourfriend2

username9 Well, I guess a relationship was a bit too much for little Lando Norris

landonorris Catching little feelings, thought we had arrangements

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username1 HOW DARE HE????

↳username2 I guess men just have the audacity 🥲

yourfriend1 When you act like you're in a relationship with her so she thinks you wanna be in a relationship with her 🙄

↳username3 That's Y/n's best friend right there 😭

maxfewtrell Drunk Lando is the worst Lando I've ever had to deal with

↳landonorris we both know that's a lie cmon

angryginge13 I forgot how fun it is to go out with you

↳maxfewtrell I swear something got into him lately, like sure he always loved to party but have you seen how drunk he was?

angryginge13 tbh I barely remember that night lol

username4 AHA so Lando is also going through it

username5 as 👏 he 👏 should 👏

username6 What's wrong with men these days? All I see are situationships, fwbs, ons, what happened to feelings? What happened to love?

↳username7 I guess dating apps messed up our perception of relationships

username6 This is sad.

username8 Well, at least Y/n isn't out getting drunk

↳username9 We can't be sure, we know all she wants us to know, her life can be totally different than what she shows on social media

username10 They had arrangements as he said, it's her fault she fell in love

↳yourfriend1 Oh will you all just shut up?

username10 Someone's mad lol

username11 So many people idolizing Lando just because he can drive a fast car in circles but in reality he's just your average brit in his 20s with commitment issues

↳username12 He's still young, he doesn't have to get in a serious relationship if he doesn't want to

username11 But it was wrong of him to lead Y/n on

username12 Just as someone said already - not his fault that she caught feelings. These typa things aren't for everyone. Or maybe she was hoping he'll fall in love or something

username11 Yeah? How is it that men these days want the benefits of a relationship without the responsibilities?

username12 Did he force her into it? Nope. She could've said no it's not my thing bye. But she didn't. She stayed with him

username11 If you wanna have sex without commitment just pay for it, it's still a thing. You can't have stuff like this for free, at the cost of another person's feelings

A month later

yourusername Kisses to my exes who don't give a shit about me

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yourfriend1 I'm glad you feel better now ❤️

↳yourusername I feel so much more alive now

username1 They all slaaaaay

yourfriend2 Remind me, why haven't we done this kinda trips before?

↳yourusername Cuz we're stupid 🫶

yourfriend1 We're not stupid, we're sillymates

yourusername Fuck soulmates when you can have sillymates

yourfriend2 Stupid choices were made tho

yourusername Neither of you stopped me lmao

carlossainz55 Wasn't it a little too cold to sit on the balcony like this?

↳yourusername The wine warmed us up!!

carlossainz55 Text me if you're ever curious about other ways to warm yourself up *this comment has been deleted*

carlossainz55 Good to know you're having fun!🍷

username3 Carlos, everyone saw that comment you deleted...

username2 Where's the person who said Carlos wouldn't do that to Lando? WHERE?!

username4 Y/n should post to the song enough for you, particularly this part "cause someday I'll be everything to somebody else"

↳username5 Ngl I feel like most Olivia's songs would fit her situation right now

maxfewtrell That looks familiar...

↳username5 Nah boy, get the hell out of this comment section

username6 Wait, let him speak, maybe he has new information

username7 I need to know what stupid choices is Y/n talking about and what Max means 😭

↳username8 They're feeding us breadcrumbs and they know what they're doing

landonorris ice spice ❄

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charles_leclerc Ice ice baby 😂❄️

maxfewtrell The gossip pages gonna love this one

↳username1 So that's what Max meant when he said it looked familiar

username2 I'll wait for further explanation 😶

username3 I refuse to believe Y/n went through all the heartbreak just to hook up with him again in Finland

↳username4 Well, she liked this post so...

username3 She got the Stockholm syndrome or what? 😭

username5 At this point she deserves this

username6 @/yourusername I am very disappointed in your actions

↳username3 Bro casually tagging Y/n like she's gonna answer

↳username3 Btw it's not confirmed that they hooked up again

username7 Pls don't break her heart again

username8 I get a little heart attack every time Lando posts

username9 Guys it doesn't make sense, Y/n wouldn't go to Finland with Lando AND with her girls

↳username2 What if they went there separately and just happened to run into each other?

username9 Yeah, because there's no other places to go skiing. Someone had to arrange it or something, it cannot be a coincidence

username2 Look, the universe works in weird ways, do you know the invisible string theory?

username9 Oh no you're one of these people? 🤡

username2 All I'm saying is to me they seem like 'right people, wrong time' and maybe finally the timing is right for them

username7 No no no Y/n deserves way better, Lando is too toxic for her

username2 Do you know him? Maybe he was going thru something and it just wasn't the time for him to be in a relationship

username9 A delusional yapper is what you are

yourusername Back home with a new passion

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yourfriend1 You gotta stop feeding me these 😭

↳yourusername What, you don't like them? 🥹

yourfriend1 I love them, that's the issue!!

username1 And Lando isn't with her

↳username2 Why would he be?

username1 I think everyone thought they're together again after Finland

username2 They were NEVER together

yourfriend2 Can you get your asses out of here?

landonorris Looks delicious (the food too)

↳username3 DON'T GIVE ME HOPE

username4 Don't worry, it's just an average text from a situationship you'd get after weeks of no contact

username5 Usually followed up by "you busy tonight?"

↳username6 Ariana what are you doing here

↳username7 Man saw that comment Carlos deleted and decided to gatekeep

username5 Bet that's not the only thing he did when he saw that

username7 wdym 😭

username5 There's no way they didn't fuck

↳username8 fr a way to mark his territory

↳yourfriend1 She said she blocked you after Finland

landonorris She didn't😁

yourfriend1 I'll make sure she does now

landonorris She won't😌

username7 We need to know what happened in Finland 😭

username1 I wish he would share the secret

username2 Yeah, Oscar, don't be shy, share it with the class

username3 My bet is Y/n let Lando manipulate her again

↳username4 They're both adults like Y/n sweetie just say no it's that easy

username5 I'm gonna manifest Y/n and Lando announcing a relationship soon 🕯

username6 I mean have y'all seen Lando? I'm NOT surprised Y/n keeps coming back even if he's doing just the bare minimum

↳username7 He's average. The fact that he's famous and has money makes him more attractive

username6 Do you think he pays Y/n for... you know?

username7 🤷‍♀️

username8 Words cannot express how much this man gets on my nerves

↳username9 Same like man stop being blind and see that Y/n is gf material, not some hookup to be used and left

username10 I wish Oscar would've spoken😭

username11 Get your shit together Lando

↳username12 Well maybe Y/n doesn't mind

username11 It didn't seem like it

username12 People change 🤷‍♀️

username11 I wish Lando would've been the one to change 🙏

username13 Lando has NO RIGHT to speak on other people's relationships being a walking definition of commitment issues himself

↳username14 chill yo tits, I think he truly thought what Oscar said was cute

yourusername We turned out to like each other way more than we originally planned

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yourfriend1 I'm tired of you both already

maxfewtrell It's gonna be one of those "they still together?" kinda relationships

↳yourusername We plan on being an insufferable pain in the ass together just for you 🫶

maxfewtrell I see Lando is already changing you for the worse

landonorris the process began way earlier

maxfewtrell But you didn't have the balls to commit

↳yourfriend2 She deserves so much better

yourfriend1 Yeah @/yourusername deserves so much better, I wish she would've read the comments

carlossainz55 Congrats, you finally tamed him👏

yourusername I hate you both ❤️

↳landonorris wow, I love supportive friends

yourfriend2 Who said we're your friends?

yourfriend1 We have to tolerate your ass but it doesn't mean we're suddenly friends

↳landonorris You've been waiting to see this happen

carlossainz55 Of course, I've been telling you to get a girlfriend for so long now

↳username1 ekhm...

↳username2 We will never forget

username3 HOW DOES IT FEEL TO LIVE MY DREAM?

username4 Miss girl needs to share her manifestation techniques with us

oscarpiastri Don't have to thank me

↳landonorris Yup, you did nothing

↳yourusername Thank you Oscahhh

username5 I MANIFESTED IT 🕯

yourusername For our 6 months anniversary we forced our friends to go camping with us 🏕

view all comments

yourfriend1 It wasn't as bad as I thought

↳angryginge13 Worse?

yourfriend1 Oh definitely

landonorris I'm really surprised they got along

↳maxfewtrell What other choice we had?

↳yourfriend2 Anything for Y/n tbh

↳yourfriend1 Still doesn't mean we don't hate you

yourfriend2 Yeah, good friends will always say 'but she deserves better' (she really does)

maxfewtrell I didn't expect you to last that long

↳yourusername Excuse me? 🤨

maxfewtrell You know, it's Lando

yourusername I guess you're right lmao

landonorris Now what is that supposed to mean?

yourusername Nothing, don't be mad❤️

↳landonorris That's what she said

yourusername NO IT'S NOT WTF 😭

oscarpiastri What if I tag along the next time?

↳yourusername I'd be happy 🫶 if you bring Lily as well it would be perfect

username1 WAR IS OVER

username2 I love how winter break is always pure chaos and summer break is just fun and chill

danielricciardo When can I join you though?

↳landonorris I promise next time I visit you in Australia it'll be with Y/n

yourusername You didn't even ask me...

landonorris Well, do you wanna go?

yourusername DUH

↳username3 No cuz these pics have strong Danny Ricc energy, I'm surprised he wasn't there

username4 The friend groups were forced to unite, I'm afraid they're together for life (I'm manifesting🤞)

↳username5 I hope they are, I feel like Lando really matured with Y/n by his side

username4 He went from "I don't wanna mature, I'm happy where I am" to this 😭

username6 I wish all situationships would turn out like this

↳username7 World would be a better place

username8 Right people right time❤️

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #F1 smau #formula 1 smau #formula 1 social media au #f1 social media au #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris smau #lando norris social media au

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.8 a little cottage on the countryside

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 8/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 13.5k (...i'm gonna go take a nap lol)

a/n. hello hellooo my dear kickoff readers, hope you're having a nice day so far! this is the longest chapter yet, so i hope you enjoy <3 it's also got one of my favorite tropes everrr hehehehe you could probs guess what it is halfway through. see you at the bottom and happy reading! sorry if there are typos i didn't proofread this one as much as the others haha

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

You don’t cry much these days, but when you do, it’s usually out of nowhere. 

Like now, as you stand in the school’s photo lab, developing the shots that you took for UTokyo’s game against Osaka last week, and you have to swipe at the tears on your cheek threatening to fall all over the captured images of grass, benches, nets, banners, stands, and him. 

One of the photographs catches your eye, and you pick it up from the table. It’s a candid moment you took of Gojo on the field right before you confessed to him. You had spotted him first while the team was doing their warm-up, and you thought he looked nice from the way he had that concentrated look on his face that you’ve learned to love. But right before you clicked the shutter, he had turned away, chasing after the ball, and so all you could capture was his back facing you as he looked off ahead into the distance. You wondered if that was how it’s always been this whole time–with you looking at him while he’s looking off at something else. It was a depressing thought, but your mind had a tendency for sadness since that day.

The sound of the photo lab door opening jolts you back to reality, and you quickly straighten your posture and wipe your cheek with your sleeve, trying to sniffle as discreetly as possible, then set the picture down. Your fellow film major greets you quietly, asking if you’re still using the developer liquid, to which you say no, then hand it over to them. You stuff your photographs into a folder and head out the door.

You make it across campus to the Film & Media Studies building, then up to the third floor where your professor's office is. His door was ajar, but you still knocked before entering.

He looks up from the photographs he was grading. “Oh, y/n, hello. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you, yourself?” you ask, taking a seat on the chair that was fixed to face his desk. You pull your tote bag into your lap.

“Great, thanks. How can I help you?”

You slide the folder to him over the scraped, worn burgundy wood of his desk. “I still had to turn in my photos for the assignment due last week. I appreciate the extension.”

“Ah, right,” he says, taking the folder from you. “I’ll get around to grading them. I’m curious, what did you end up choosing for your subject matter?” He tucks the folder underneath the pile that was to his side.

“I took photos of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni on Thursday last week,” you tell him.

He frowns at you. “Film cameras don’t have that level of zoom, though. I do hope you followed the rubric guidelines for central object to frame ratio, otherwise I’ll have to take off points.” 

“Oh– I did. I took the photos from the sidelines,” you tell him, panicking already. 

His eyes widened. “From the sidelines? On the field?”

You nod at him, fidgeting with your bag in your lap.

“Wow, I can’t say I’ve ever had a student take photos like that before. That’s pretty challenging to pull off, though,” he says, sitting up straighter, “...you mind if I take a look at them right now?”

You shake your head. “Oh, no. Not at all.”

He pulls your folder out from the bottom of the pile, then gently slips the photos out of them, rearranging them all across his desk. He leans down closer to study some of them, tilting his head curiously at others, furrowing his brow in concentration to a select few. “These are incredible.”

You take in a deep breath. “Thank you, professor.”

He nods at you with acknowledgement, and you watch him as he studies the images quietly for another minute, then looks up at you. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asks when he notices you’re still seated.

“Ah…yes, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it?” He taps his pen on the desk.

“I was wondering if you could write me a letter of recommendation for the film graduate program.”

He nods, like he was expecting the question. “Yeah, of course. Just send me your resume and portfolio.” He taps eagerly on one of your images. “Please send me digitals for these, too.”

You let out a relieved exhale. “Yes, I will. Thank you so much, professor, I really appreciate it.”

You left the building feeling extremely relieved about your professor agreeing to write your recommendation, but also feeling sad because you couldn’t tell Gojo about it, since this was the full-circle moment for the little arrangement the two of you had. There’s a thought that considers texting him, and you take out your phone then go to his name, but your thumbs just can’t bring yourself to send him a message.

The days of the week go by in a blur, and between every single little moment in life, your mind always wanders to him. It’s hard to get over someone when you’re surrounded by them. Like late at night while you’re editing the digitals of the game last week to send to your professor, and you find yourself staring at the pictures you’ve taken of him. It’s hard to get over him when the school worships the soccer team and you’re forced to see promotional banners and posters all over campus with his stupidly beautiful face in them. You didn’t have the heart to block him on Instagram, because you remember that time he teased you about how you didn’t follow him back, and you wonder if it would make him sad if you blocked him, so you just resorted to deleting the app instead. And although you were the one that asked for space from him, you were growing increasingly annoyed at how good he seemed to be at keeping it. 

The library wasn’t even much of a safe space either, since you overheard a group of girls the other day at a table arguing about which of the players on the team is the hottest, and so you find yourself doing your homework on a lovely Wednesday morning at your apartment instead. 

You lean back in your chair and look up at the ceiling, and then jump when you hear your phone ring, quickly turning it over to read the caller ID. Nobara. You accept the call, placing her on speaker, then set your phone back down on your desk. 

“Hey, Nobie, what’s up?”

“Hey, nothing much. Just wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out,” she says.

“Oh, I would love to, but I’m working on homework right now. It’s due in a couple of hours,” you sigh.

“Boo, you whore. For what class?”

“My stats 130 elective,” you say. “I’m a film major, why do I need to know statistics?” You tap your pen to your chin. “Actually, it might be valid.”

“Is that the class with the creepy professor?” she asks. “The one that got caught with a PornHub tab open while he was presenting his lecture slides.”

“Yeah.”

“I took his class last semester! I still have all my homework for it,” she exclaims on the other end, “do you want me to send it over?”

“Yes, omg, I could kiss you right now,” you groan, resting your head on your arm sprawled across your desk in exhaustion.

“So definite no to hang out?” 

“Sorry, I’ll reach out later though,” you sigh, “also, my car is still in repair…apparently something came up with the engine. So we can’t go far unless we invite Mina.”

“That’s fine, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to come if we invite her just to chauffeur,” she says sarcastically. “By the way, how’d the pictures come along? For the newsletter?”

You lift your head up off of the desk in a panic. Shit. You were so focused on turning in your digitals of the game to your professor that you totally forgot you were supposed to send them to Utahime as well. “Oh my god, I forgot. When do they finalize the release again?”

“Isn’t it today at noon? I sent over film club’s photos this morning,” she says. 

You glance at the time. 11:56am. 

“Nobara, I’ve gotta go. I need to call Utahime, sorry,” you say. She acknowledges you, telling you to hurry, and then you hang up.

You call Utahime and scribble down on a sticky note to paste on your wall as a reminder to buy her a loving gift basket one of these days because of course she extends the release deadline just for you. You finish touching up the digitals and then send them to her via email, and after you finish your statistics homework, she calls you again to meet up somewhere nearby.

“Thanks so much for coming here,” Utahime says as she sits across from you at one of the local cafes you frequent. “Also, this chai latte is so good, I’m honestly surprised.”

You nod at her. “This place has great drinks.” You slide a folder across the table to her and she sets her drink down to accept it.

“Sorry if it was a hassle, but I just had to ask for physicals of these photos,” she sighs as she pulls them out. “They’re amazing, seriously, I gasped when I saw them. I’m used to sifting through a lot of professional sports photos for the newsletter, for all of the teams on campus, but I’ve never seen photos as charming as these. It could be the film photography aspect, since most of the ones I see are digital, but I’m seriously shocked you could capture shots like this at a rowdy men’s soccer match.”

You’re shaking your head at her. “Please don’t compliment me so much, I’ll cry. And it’s no issue, I had a spare set of physicals from when I developed them. You can keep them.” 

She smiles at you. “Okay, well then, I think it goes without saying that I’ll definitely be including them for the sports recap this week. I’ll send you the money soon, too.”

You clap your hands together and interlock your fingers. “I’m. So. Grateful. For. You.” 

She laughs across from you and takes another sip of her latte before sitting back slightly, glancing at the photos spread across the table. “Hm…how busy are you for the rest of the semester?”

You tilt your head at her and bring your coffee to your lips, taking a sip before setting it back down. “Not terribly busy, I quit my job last month so I’m just taking my assignments as they come and go.”

Utahime nods at you, a thoughtful expression on her face, and she smooths down the fabric of her shirt. “Okay, well, I got an email from the school this morning that one of the newsletter photographers for the men’s soccer team is moving to a different city, so they’re looking to fill in the position as soon as possible and they asked if I knew anyone,” she mentions, resting her elbow on the table and then placing her hand on her cheek. “They usually only hire professionals, but if I put a word in for you, they’d probably offer it to you.”

Your eyes widen at her from across the table, heart beating a bit faster in your chest. 

“They pay really well for a part-time job. It’s essentially full-time pay for part-time hours,” she continues, “but it’s probably because you’ll have to travel with the team to their away games, including unofficial matches and conferences. If you’re not that busy for the next two months, then I think it’d be a good opportunity for you to build experience.” 

You purse your lips together, considering her words. Although it’s a bit different from your long-term career plans, it was still a great way to get experience before graduate school. And besides, you needed the money, considering you quit your job last month and your savings were starting to run thin–never mind the fact that your car repair bill went from a few thousand yen to somewhere in the tens-of-thousands. And you would prefer to still be able to afford rent. Oh, and eat. Possibly still pay for Netflix.

But then there was the fact that having that kind of job meant that you would be spending a lot of time with the soccer team, and therefore increases the chances of running into Gojo. And you’re supposed to be staying away from him to get over your feelings. 

“It sounds like an amazing opportunity, really,” you start, “...but I can’t.”

Utahime frowns at you and sits up straight. “Really? I thought you’d be excited. Why not?”

You sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“y/n…” Utahime starts, “I don’t really know what’s going on in your head right now, but isn’t this your dream? For your work to reach people? I know it’s only a stepping stone, believe me I know very well the path to becoming any sort of artist is an uphill battle of hell, but I’ve known you for a while now. And I know how much your dreams mean to you, and how hard you’re willing to work for them.”

Your heart swells in our chest at Utahime’s words. She was right, and you were starting to get really sick of letting your fears hold you back from what you really wanted in life. “...you’re right, I’m sorry. I’d love to be considered for the position, if you could recommend me.”

She smiles and nods at you. “Will do.”

–

The email for the job offer comes surprisingly fast, and you quickly read through it before accepting. It wasn’t a horrible time commitment, given you’d only have to take pictures during active play during matches, give or take a couple hours before, and the photographers rotate between who takes up each of the conferences so the work was split up. You were able to meet a few of the newsletter photographers & journalists during the game last week, so you already knew some of them. The offer letter came attached with a full calendar of the soccer team’s practice schedule, official match schedule, unofficial match schedule, conference schedule, and other publicity schedule, and you’re shocked at how busy all the players must be. The fact that they still have time to be students–and for most of them, active participants in fraternities–was honestly beyond you. 

It seemed like they only had four more official matches left, two being away matches, along with a couple of unofficial matches that they may or may not participate in depending on how the season goes for them. 

Their next game was on Friday against Kyoto university, and you were scheduled to shoot for their sports conference the day following as well. So you find yourself on a train embarked for the countryside, and you peer out of the window with a nervous feeling in your stomach. The sparkling skyscrapers and bustling crowds of Tokyo gradually started to give way into sights of expansive lush greenery, picturesque and charming towns, and winding rivers surrounded by trees. The closer you got to Kyoto, the sky became more gray until a steady drizzle began to fall against the train window. When you reached the final station, the rain had dissipated, and the taxi ride to the hotel was only about fifteen minutes. The journey felt exhausting, and you were so incredibly ready to pass out in a comfy bed. 

You stood underneath a small sidewalk roof near the vending machines lining the outside of the hotel, trying to keep your bag and suitcase with all your equipment in it dry from the remnant soft mist of rain still lingering in the air.  

“Hey, Utahime, sorry to bother you so late,” you say, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear, “but is it the Hilton on 3rd street? Or on Main? Because if it’s the one on Main, then I may have messed up-”

You stop speaking when you hear a masculine voice down the road towards the left, echoing off of the lined up small shops along the sidewalk, and your heart could have recognized the sound anywhere. You’re swift to turn and face that direction, almost dropping your phone in the process, and you see him– the object of all your suffering lately. 

Gojo stood there, wide-eyed and stopped completely in his tracks as the recognition of you under the dim street lighting flashes across his face. He’s in pajamas– a red long-sleeve cotton shirt that looks so stupidly soft and comfortable it almost makes you emotional, with some matching checkered red pants. It was the most casual clothing you’ve ever seen him in. His hair appears damp, slightly tousled, from what you could assume was an effort to dry it off fast. And he had crocs on. In sports mode. You make a mental note to ask him about his charms and if he’s willing to trade any of them with you. But maybe some other day. When it doesn’t hurt to think about him.

“y/n?” he calls your name out, astonished. He’s looking at you like he’s just seen a ghost but in the best way possible. 

You blink at him, heart skipping a beat just from the mere sight of him, and when you hear Utahime’s voice on the line you’re shaken out of your trance. “Oh, sorry, I’m still here. I…I think I just had my question answered. Thank you, have a good night.” You pull your phone down, gaze lingering on your screen for way too long because you can’t brave yourself to look over at the man to your left, and you end the call.

There’s the sound of remnant puddles of water splashing as he takes a few steps closer to you, and you can see his reflection in the water of the one in front of you. The expression on his face matches the one that was there when you last saw him outside of the UTokyo stadium at the west side exit. It’s an expression you could still see every time you close your eyes.

Finally turning to face him, you purse your lips together. “Hi.”

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks, voice laced with confusion and you see him take in your appearance with eager flicks of his gaze all around, like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him right now.

“Satoru!” another familiar voice calls out. “Did you get the orange-flavored ones too? Choso’s a fucking idiot and got the grape ones instead. I hate those. They taste like medicine. And ass. Not that I would know what–” You see Geto emerge from the darkness to Gojo’s side, and now he’s looking at you with a surprised look too. “Oh, it’s y/n. What are you doing here?”

“Hey, you two,” you chirp, trying to act as if an entire world of awkwardness wasn’t being exchanged between you and Gojo right now, for the sake of hoping that Geto wasn’t a very good judge of energy. “I’m here to take pictures of the soccer team.”

Your eyes flicker to Gojo, who is still looking at you like he’s never seen a person before. 

“Oh, is it for another one of your assignments?” Geto asks. 

“No, it’s not. It’s for the newsletter,” you explain to him, “I guess it’s my job now.”

There are a few more distant footsteps that follow behind the two of them, with the crinkling noises of plastic bags hitting against thighs echoing through the streets, and eventually they catch up. You see Nanami and the UTokyo team’s goalie, you believe his name is Choso, arrive at this little gathering that was taking place outside of the hotel.

“That’s awesome!” Geto exclaims. “I’m sure the newsletter will lead to a lot of exposure.”

“Who reads the newsletter?” Choso asks. 

Geto nudges him with his elbow. “Dude.”

“What?”

He then fills Choso in on the conversation, “Oh, my bad.”

“Don’t worry, y/n, I read the newsletter,” Geto says, “I read it like the morning paper.”

“It only comes out once a week, but nice try,” you respond, giving him a weary look.

Nanami crosses his arms. “I actually do happen to read it,” he says, “although I refrain from the soccer section. Feels rather egotistic to read it. I find the campus politics section to be enjoyable, though.”

The rest of you exchange annoyed glances at that.

“Satoru reads the soccer section,” Geto says, slinging an arm around him, “‘cause he’s full of himself.”

For a moment, Gojo remains silent, while his teammates, who had been observing him with amused expressions, gradually shift to awkward blinking, like they were expecting him to complain, or say something sarcastic, or joke around by now.

“I do read it,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “I saw the release from yesterday. Your pictures were stunning.”

You’re flustered from the way he’s looking at you. “Thanks.” 

Choso opens the plastic bag he was holding, peering down into it. “Shit. Ice cream’s melting, guys.”

“Yeah, we should probably head back to the rooms,” Geto looks at you, “do you want any snacks?”

“Oh, no. I’m good. I was just about to go check-in,” you say to them.

The boys politely say bye to you, and Gojo mentions something about staying back for a bit and hands Nanami the plastic bag he was carrying before they head back into the hotel. And then the two of you are alone under this roof, drops of water falling from it in between the two of you. He takes a step towards you, and you instantly stiffen. He seems to notice because he sighs and then walks past you to the vending machine that was next to you, pulling out some spare change from his pocket and inputting it into the machine.

“Do you want anything to drink?” The machine feeds him something, and he crouches down to pick it up before standing up again.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” you say, hand clutching the handle of your suitcase. 

He cracks the can of his soda open. “So, you’re going to be traveling with us for the newsletter now?” he asks, so concisely, like he felt that every word comes with a tax.

“Yeah.”

“We don’t have to act like we’re strangers.”

You turn to face him. “What should we act like then?”

There’s a hesitant look in his expression as he looks down at his feet and then back up at you. “Can’t we at least be friends?”

The question softens you at your core, the tone of his voice sounding genuine. Being friends with him sounds so nice, and you kind of wish that’s what you two always were. Just friends. Maybe it would have avoided all of this heartache. But deep inside you knew that just being friends with him wasn’t an option anymore, at least not for now. “No, sorry. That’s just a recipe for disaster. I have to go check-in now.”

You grab your tote bag from the bench, grip tight onto your suitcase handle and make your way splashing across the shallow puddles then through the hotel’s automatic doors into the warmth of the lobby. 

The lighting inside was warm and there were moderately high ceilings adorned with vintage-looking chandeliers. Around the perimeter, there were amenities including a cozy lounge with a fireplace, a small bar serving cocktails, as well as a business lounge with booths and multiple TVs mounted to the walls playing the local news. It made you feel like you were on vacation, and getting to a hotel at this hour while on vacation always meant that you were about ready to pass out on some freshly washed and tucked white linen sheets after taking a nice warm shower with a lavender-scented mini soap bar.

Making your way through the maze of plush seating areas, you get to the concierge desk to check-in. There was a professionally-dressed woman with a slicked-back bun standing there behind the counter, her eyes scanning the computer screen in front of her, and a big, burly man that stood behind her wearing all black that appeared to be security.

“Hello, I’m here to check-in,” you say, placing your forearm on the cold black counter.

The lady doesn’t look up from the computer screen. You clear your throat.

“Oh, hello. Name on the reservation?” she asks you.

You take a look down at your phone screen. The reservation was still under the name of the person that had recently quit the job. “Yui Ishikawa.”

The lady behind the counter hums to herself, obnoxiously tapping at the keyboard with only one of her index fingers. She was chewing gum. “Hm. Don’t see that name here.”

“What?” You squint at your phone and refresh the page, then turn it to face her. “But it’s on your official booking site. There was email confirmation too.”

She glances at your phone screen then taps at the keyboard again, still obnoxiously loud, but she uses her other index finger this time. “Yeah, still nothing.”

“This has to be some kind of mistake,” you say to her.

She looks up at you with an annoyed expression. “Do you want to take a look at the screen? See for yourself.” She turns the monitor to face you. 

You don’t even work here, but you could see clear as day on their interface software that there was a reservation for this Yui Ishikawa woman at this time tonight. You point at it. “It’s right there. The reservation is literally right there.”

She turns the screen back to herself and squints at it. “Oh. Well, unfortunately, we already gave that room to someone else. Since it wasn’t there on our system a half hour ago.”

“What? How is that fair?” You were starting to get seriously annoyed. That refreshing shower you were dreaming of was starting to sound more of a need than a want with every passing minute. “Can you give me another room?”

“No, sorry, we’re all booked for tonight,” she tells you, without offering any additional help.

You look at her baffled. The big burly man behind her has now taken an interest in the conversation as well. “Okay…can you tell me if there are any hotels nearby that I could stay at?”

“Look. This is the countryside, ma’am, there are only a handful of hotels in this area that aren’t tourist accommodations. It’s also the night before a men’s college soccer match, and there seems to be some business seminar taking place nearby too. You can call and check, but the closest hotel this large is about an hour away,” she tells you. 

“What? An hour away? I can’t afford a cab ride like that,” you tell her.

“Unfortunately, that isn’t really my problem,” she says.

You blink at her. “Are you being serious? This is ridiculous.”

“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to leave if you can’t comply with our booking rules,” she declares.

“Leave?! You’re the ones that messed up the booking!” You’re yelling now, a few heads turning from the bar at the back. Exhaustion was pulsing through your veins and your filter was slipping. “Do you have any idea how to do your damn job?”

The woman guffaws at you. “Alright, that’s it.” She snaps her fingers, and you watch as the big, burly man walks around the counter of the concierge desk to make his way to you.

You take a step back, watching in horror as he towers over you and grabs onto your arm. “Let’s leave without any issues, miss,” he says in a deep voice.

“What?! But– hey, that’s my suitcase! Don’t– wait–”

“Woah, woah, woah,” you hear a familiar voice call out from the left. “What’s going on here?”

The three of you turn your heads in the direction of the voice, and you see Gojo, still clad in those ridiculously soft-looking pajamas, doing a light jog up to the counter.

The woman at the reception desk straightens herself up immediately, and she pets down on her dress and fixes her hair at the mere sight of him. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Nothing to see here, sir! Just a crazy woman that can’t comprehend hotel establishment rules.”

“That crazy woman just so happens to be my wife,” he says, pulling the big burly man’s hand off of your arm.

All three of you look at him dumbfounded. 

“Y-Your wife?” the woman asks, sounding equally surprised and disappointed. “But she’s complaining about the fact that she doesn’t have a room.”

“I know, she does that all the time,” he sighs, “she’s got–...early-onset…dementia. Sweetheart, what did I tell you about packing up all your things and leaving the room when I’m not watching you?”

You give him a what the fuck look. He scowls at you to just play along.

“So…she’s with you?” the woman asks.

Gojo nods. “She always forgets that we’ve already booked a room together. Just a silly little sickly lady. Isn’t that right, honey?” He’s holding your shoulders and making you face the concierge woman.

“Y-Yes…” you say awkwardly, trying to put on a smile.

“So, if you could forgive her behavior,” he says with a super pleading voice, pulling you into him so your back is flush against his front side. “I’ll keep her in check from now on.”

The woman lets out a scoff in disbelief. “Alright…just don’t let her out again.” You send her a nasty look. The big burly man lets out a hmph and steps away from you. 

“Sure thing. Let’s go, honey,” Gojo says, grabbing the handle of your suitcase in one hand and your upper arm in his other, dragging you with him across the lobby to the elevators. It isn’t until he’s pressed the up button and you finally gain your footing again after stumbling a few steps that you yank away from his grip.

“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, feeling embarrassed.

He looks down at you with a raise of his eyebrow. “Saving you from getting kicked out of the only decent hotel within a thirty-mile radius?”

“I didn’t need your help, I had the situation under control,” you mumble, smoothing out the layers of your clothing.

“Yes. That’s exactly what that looked like,” he muses as the elevator door opens and he steps inside, taking your suitcase with him as hostage. You panic at the sight and step inside with him, the door closing behind you. 

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“To my room,” he says, pressing a button on the control pad, “you couldn’t get one, right?”

Your eyes widen. “No…I couldn’t.” 

Gojo’s room is on the fourth floor, eleven units down to the right, and you follow him with dragging feet all the way down. Once he makes it in front of the door and takes the keycard out of his pocket, he pauses and looks over at you. “Waiting for you to thank me.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “For what?”

He’s waving the card in the air tauntingly. “You look exhausted as hell right now. I’m the one with the access to a nice hotel vanity and a soft, warm bed,” he practically purrs the words.

You’re instantly folding. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey,” he chimes, pressing the card to the reader.

“Stop calling me that,” you grumble as he opens the door for you.

You step into the room, rolling your suitcase inside with you, and take a look around. There was a single bed with the headboard up against the left-side wall, a nightstand on both sides and a desk where you noticed Gojo had his laptop open and a few books out. The bathroom was to the right, and there was a long table that had a coffee machine as well as the TV on top of it.

You place your suitcase against the wall then turn around, standing only a few feet from the entrance of the room, to find Gojo still standing outside in the hallway.

“Do you have to go somewhere?” you ask him. “Why are you just standing there?”

“Oh, I don’t need any of my other stuff,” he says to you, tapping at his pocket where you can see the imprint of his wallet, “room’s all yours.”

Your eyes widen at him. “Wait…are you going to sleep somewhere else?”

He tilts his head at you, as if that was obvious. “Yeah, I was going to go crash on the couch in Suguru’s room or something.”

“But–” you start, stopping yourself. 

He’s waiting for you to speak, but you can’t.

“Well…good night, then,” he says and he turns to the side, about to walk down the hall, when you reach out and grab the sleeve of his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.

This was a bad idea. You’re supposed to be putting distance between the two of you right now, so that you can get over him. This was a man that very clearly said he didn’t have feelings for you. But honestly, you missed him. You missed him so damn much this past week, and you can only be strong for so long. 

“You have an important match tomorrow,” you say quietly, “you should be getting a good night’s rest. We’ll share the bed.”

He turns to face you, looking down at where you were pinching the fabric of his shirt, which was just as soft as you had imagined, and he glances up to meet your gaze once again. “I’m…really confused right now.”

“What if you guys lose and are booted from the competition, and I have to spend the rest of my life regretting the fact that the reason the school lost a 12-year championship streak is all because I made you sleep on a couch?” you ask him.

He takes a step towards you. “You really want me to stay?” His voice was low.

“Yes,” you say. “We’re mature adults. Despite everything, we can just…share a bed for one night, right?”

He’s silent for a moment. “I think you trust me a little too much.”

Your face felt hot. “Are you telling me that I shouldn’t?”

“I’m telling you that you should really think this through,” he says.

“Just stay. Please.” The tone to your voice came off much more desperate than you would’ve liked.

He looks at you like the last thing in the world he could say right now was no. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Positive?”

“Satoru.”

“Okay,” he says, walking past you into the room, like he wasn’t really in the mood to argue about it anymore.

You sigh, sulking your shoulders a little bit, and watch as he takes a seat at the desk and continues to click through things on his laptop, occasionally sipping on the cup of coffee he had made for himself, as if your presence here was no unnatural thing. 

This all felt so domestic for you. This feels like the most intimate the two of you have been with one another, despite the fact he’s literally made you cum with his tongue before. 

“Who drinks coffee at this hour?” you ask, crouching down to unzip your suitcase, opening it up to find your cosmetics bag and a fresh pair of clothes to change into.

“Caffeine doesn’t really affect me anymore.” His eyes were still stuck on his laptop screen.

“You sound dead inside,” you comment, standing back up straight. You step over your suitcase that was on the floor and head into the bathroom, about to close the door but you open it enough to peer over at him from inside. “I’m going to take a shower,” you announce.

You see him poke his tongue to his cheek, leg bouncing up and down underneath the desk, and he squints at his laptop screen like there’s something so damn important that he must concentrate on or else the entire universe would collapse inside of a black hole. “Cool. Have fun.”

“I will.” 

“I’m glad.”

“No peeping.”

“There’s a lock on the bathroom door. Feel free to use it.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” And then you’re shutting the door. 

It felt nice to freshen up, especially after that long journey, and then you’re doing your skincare in the mirror while you’re wrapped in a towel, trying to forget the fact that the man you quite seriously have immense feelings for is somewhere outside that door just a few feet away in this small hotel room. You spray a spritz of your perfume onto your skin, something there’s literally no point in doing before bedtime, but you still do it…for no particular reason at all, obviously. 

When you step back out into the room, Gojo’s eyes are instantly on you from where he stood near the closet. He takes in your appearance and lets out a laugh, looking at you with amusement.

“What?” you ask.

“You look so cute,” he says, “with your little sloth pajamas.”

You’re fully blushing as you make your way over to the armchair in the room to set your cosmetics bag down on it to sort through the mess you’ve just made of it. “Don’t call me cute,” you scold, searching for your lip balm. 

You could feel his frown from behind you. “You don’t like it?” 

“No. I love it.”

“I’m not following.”

You turn around to face him. “Satoru. You promised me you wouldn’t lead me on anymore. That includes teasing me or complimenting me.”

He looks at you incredulously. “What? I can’t even call you cute? This fucking sucks.”

“Your problem,” you say.

“So you’re cool with sharing a bed, but you’re not cool with me complimenting you,” he lays it out.

“We’re sharing this bed out of the kindness of my own heart,” you say to him, “because I care oh-so-very-much about your soccer career, and understand how important good sleep is for an athlete’s performance. I’m just that considerate of a person.” You point a strict finger at him. “But for your information, if you touch me while we’re in bed, I’ll kill you.”

“Hm. Not sure if I feel threatened or turned on right now,” he says.

You roll your eyes and finally zip up your cosmetics bag, set it on the table then make your way to the left side of the bed. When you glance at the nightstand, you notice Gojo has his wallet, his phone and his charger all situated there.

“Why’s your stuff here?” you ask him.

“Huh? Oh, I was going to sleep on that side,” he says to you.

“I usually sleep on the left side,” you tell him.

“But I usually sleep on the left side.”

You blink at him.

“I–…I’ll sleep on the right side,” he suggests, shoulders tense and on edge.

“Okay,” you shrug, and move his stuff.

Gojo spends some time freshening up in the bathroom too, and when he comes out he looks like he’s actually tired, and you feel like it’s the first time you’ve seen him look as worn out as he probably should be for someone as busy as him. You’re already settled under the sheets, the duvet pulled all the way up to your chin as you lay on your back. He comes up to the right side of the bed, checking his phone for a few minutes while standing and rubbing at the back of his neck, then plugs his phone into the charger. He grabs the sheets, about to pull them back, when he pauses and looks at you.

“Are you su-”

“If you ask me if I’m sure about this one more time, I will no longer feel sorry for you, and will make you go sleep on the love-stained couch,” you threaten him.

He grimaces at your choice of words and pulls the sheets back, slipping himself into bed. “Why do you have to put it like that? You’re gross. Also, I’m pretty sure this bed has seen less-than-holy things too.”

The only lighting in the room came from the warm, dim bulb of the night lamp at Gojo’s nightstand. An incredibly awkward silence settles between the two of you. Or maybe it’s just awkward for you, because he seems fine. He’s on his back too, looking up at the ceiling, practically motionless but there’s the faintest sound of his breathing every once in a while and it’s a sound you’ve never heard in such detail before.

He turns his head to you, but you don’t meet his gaze just yet. You shuffle a little bit, hip bumping against his side, elbow hitting his arm. He’s masculine next to you, shoulders hard, muscles heavy, but when you finally turn your head to glance at him and see the expression on his face, you realize that everything about him was rigid—except for the way he was looking at you.

“When did you sneak it in?” he asks.

“Sneak what in?” 

“The can of strawberry vanilla soda. Into my bag.”

You swear your heart stills a little in your chest. 

“Before,” is all you say to him.

He sighs. “y/n…”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to feel bad for me. I wanted you to have it, regardless of how I thought my confession would go,” you assure.

It’s hard to read his expression from the side while he’s looking up at the ceiling, but it’s softer than it was a second ago. The need to change the subject consumes you.

“Why do you have calluses on your fingertips?” you ask him. “You’re a soccer player, you don’t use your hands for anything.”

“I play the guitar,” he replies simply.

You perch yourself up on an elbow, looking down at him with interest. His eyes flicker to your face. “Really?”

“No. I was just kidding. Hate the way you got excited though. I might have to pick up a guitar now.”

“Can you just answer me?” you sigh, flopping down onto your back again.

He laughs a little, a sound you feel like you could get drunk on at this point. He lifts his head up off the pillow enough to tuck his right hand underneath it, then rests it back down. You wish there was a mirror on the ceiling so you could see the flex of his arm. “Coach has us do the rock climbing wall at the gym at least once a week for practice. He thinks it’s a good workout. Causes a hell of a lot of skin tear though.”

“That’s it? That’s the reason?”

“Mhm.”

You shake your head, “You should learn how to play the guitar, because that’s a lame reason to have calluses.”

He lifts his head up off the pillow again and brings the hand that was tucked under his nape to in front of his face and he just looks at it. You look at it too. “Why are you so obsessed with the state of my hands? 

“A girl can’t be curious?” you ask.

“They’re not that bad.” You wonder if you’ve made him self-conscious. 

You watch the way he flexes his fingers open and then closed. He turns it around, and you can see the veins trailing down from the valleys of his knuckles, disappearing into the fabric of his long sleeve. You remember that party, the two of you in that bathroom, when his hands were all over you, and it’s suddenly a little hard to breathe. He turns his hand again so the palm faces him, but now it’s also slightly turned towards you too.

“They’re bad here,” you say, pointing to his ring finger where you see slight peeling at the tip. The padded skin of your finger touches his skin. “A little bad here, too.” You point to his index finger, careless enough to allow all of your fingers to brush against his this time.

He watches you. “Your hands are really small,” he comments, like it was a marvel to him.

You look over at him briefly, and there’s not a single sign of tension in his face as he observes the image of your hand next to his hand in the air above him. He looked like he was at peace.

“Yours are just big,” you tell him. 

He knows he’s not supposed to, and you really shouldn’t have let him, but he interlocks his fingers with yours regardless, holding onto your hand. You feel the roughness of those calluses all across your soft skin. His thumb runs over the curve of your knuckle, almost in a soothing way, like he was trying to apologize to you for something. And this was the only way he knew how. 

Something sobers him up, because he suddenly pulls his fingers from yours and drops his hand to the duvet. Your hand lingers in the air for a few seconds before you do the same. And now you’re both awkwardly staring up at the ceiling again.

“Sorry,” he says, barely above a whisper.

“It’s okay,” you whisper too.

The silence settles for longer.

He sighs. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he says out of nowhere.

“Huh?” you turned your body a little to face him, and he was looking up at the ceiling as if there was something across the texture that he was trying to decipher.

“I don’t want you thinking that the reason I can’t-,” he pauses, to think carefully about his words, “...that the reason I can’t return your feelings is because of you, or anything you’ve done. It’s been a while since I’ve liked anyone to be honest, and I’m just really not looking to date right now.”

You’re hurt by his words. Because even if he didn’t want to date anyone, you thought that he would’ve at least tried to for you. You thought that he had at least some feelings that the two of you could’ve worked off of. “Why don’t you want to date anyone?”

“Reasons.”

“Obviously. What reasons?” you prod. When he doesn’t respond, you sigh. “If it’s something traumatic, I get it. My hamster died in the fourth grade,” you say, “I’ve never known peace since.”

He turns onto his side to face you with a soft and amused smile on his face. “Sorry to hear that. What was your hamster’s name?”

You try not to feel hot from the burn of his gaze and you turn onto your back to look up at the ceiling again. “Mr. Guilmon,” you say.

“Like…guilmon from digimon?

“Mhm.”

“You like digimon?”

“Oh yeah, I used to watch it all the time when I was a kid. My mom wanted to name my hamster ‘Scout’ but I refused,” you tell him, blinking a few times as the memories from your childhood come back to you. A small smile makes its way onto your face.

“I love digimon,” he says, fast, like he couldn’t contain it. 

“Really?” you give him a sidewards glance, a little surprised.

He hesitates slightly before sighing, turning over in the opposite direction to reach for his wallet on his nightstand. You feel the fabric of the duvet stretch across you from the movement, and you remember just how intimate this all felt. He’s laying on his back again, holding his wallet up in the air with both hands as he flips it open, then slides his credit card up out of the slot, and shows it to you. Digimon themed. You have to purse your lips together to hold back your laughter.

He turns his head to look at you when you can’t help but let a little noise escape your mouth, and you can see through the laughter-induced sheen of tears in your eyes that he’s frowning.

“Hey–”

“I’m sorry–” you're fully laughing at this point, hand over your mouth to try to contain yourself, “it’s just– oh my god— you’re the last person I would’ve expected to have been such a nerd.” 

“I’m not a nerd–” he tries to argue but you snatch the card out of his hand to study it closer, and also to memorize the numbers on the back.

“Popular soccer boy Gojo Satoru,” you’re giggling, “has a custom Digimon credit card.”

When he tries to reach for it, you stretch your arm off to the left. His weight leans on you, chest pressing against the curve of your shoulder, arm extending across you as he tries to grab his card back. “Quit it,” he mutters. 

“No,” you say, holding it further to your left, weakly trying to push him away from you.

“Quit it,” he repeats, face scowling now with what looks like embarrassment, and he holds his upper body up by the elbow, leaning over you even more to reclaim it, “or else.”

“Or else, what?” you say through wheezes, and it seems like something in him snaps because suddenly he grabs your wrist, hard, pinning it down onto the mattress, holding it there next to your head, and his entire upper body is towering over you. Shocked, you’re breathing fast, your eyes darting across his face, and he’s looking at you with a furrowed brow and a tense jaw.

“Or else I won’t keep my promise,” he says through a harsh breath, his voice low and rough.

You’re stunned underneath him. “What promise?” you ask, breathlessly. 

He leans down closer, to the point where the fringe of his hair brushes against your forehead. “My promise to hold myself back from you.”

You swallow hard, chest heaving. You feel the heat of his hand on your wrist burning through to your veins. You try to squirm slightly in his grip, but he just presses your wrist down further into the mattress.

He glances at your lips, eyes dilated and stern, and leans down even closer to you. “Do you have any idea how bad I’ve been wanting to punish you for leaving me in that bathroom by myself?” he says in a voice so husky you feel the arousal build at your center the second your head registers it.

You can’t find your words. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, as if to make sure yours stay on his too, and you’re docile under him until he’s distracted you enough to pinch his credit card between two of his fingers and discretely pull it out from your grip. He then lets go of your wrist and disappears out of your line of sight when he flops back down onto the mattress next to you, tucking his card back into his wallet.

“But I won’t. Because I’m a nice person, and will respect your space. Or whatever.” 

You don’t know what to say, your hand finding a place over your heart as you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down.

“We should probably go to sleep,” he sighs after a minute, tossing his wallet back onto the nightstand and reaching over to turn off the light.

It’s dark now in the room, the only light coming from through the layered fabrics of the curtains. It's a cold light, possibly from the moon and maybe some dim neighboring white street lights, but it’s enough to where you could still see the slight texture of the ceiling, and maybe his face.

You both spend a few minutes trying to get comfortable. You try not to bump your butt against him, or brush your chest against his arm, but it happens a couple times anyway, and you mentally curse yourself for it. The rise of the duvet fabric from his chest becomes shallow with his breathing, and you think he’s fallen asleep, but then the two of you turn over at the exact same time, facing each other, eyes flying open and gazes meeting. It startles the both of you, but neither of you look away or say a word. The two of you just sit in the moment for what feels like hours, and very could’ve easily been. 

You’re the first to break the silence. “You know, there was a time where I thought that you weren’t even real.” You’re speaking hushed, like you’re afraid someone will hear, even though there’s only two souls in this room right now.

“What?” he asks, a slight raise to his eyebrow. “...why.”

“I don’t know. You’re like this urban legend around campus. You probably don’t know it, since you’re in it, but the world you’re in is very different from the world the rest of us students are in.”

He’s silent for a moment, his face being briefly illuminated by the reflection of a car’s headlights on the windows of the surrounding building. “I think I know what you mean.”

You blink at him. “I thought you would have a few more follow-up questions to that, but I guess you’re surprisingly self-aware.”

He hums to himself. “I think I can just put it into perspective.”

“Perspective?” you ask. You’re hanging onto every single one of his words tonight. You don’t want a single one of them slipping through you, not understood.

“Yeah,” he says, “there are moments where I feel like I’m not in that world anymore. And it feels nice. To get out of it.”

You want to ask him when those moments are, but he’s quick to speak again.

“I guess that means I’m aware of the moments where I am in it, so I know that it exists, if that makes sense? I don’t know.” He looks down at your pajamas, at the dancing sloth at the front, and the crease to his brow relaxes slightly. 

“Mhm, makes sense.”

His eyes are back on you, studying. There’s a strange look on his face that you can’t really comprehend. “I want to know about your world,” he says.

You breathe in deep, and exhale shallow. “My world is simple. I want to be a filmmaker and then live in a little cottage.”

He smiles at you. “A little cottage?”

“Yeah,” you say, “maybe in the countryside. The Italian countryside. With my own garden in the backyard so I can use fresh zucchini in my salads.”

“Any animals? Pets?” he asks, like he’s envisioning it all in his head too. 

“Maybe some chickens,” you say, “I promised Mr. Guilmon I’d name another one of my pets after him someday. I have to keep my promise.”

He nods. “You do.”

There’s another silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward this time.

“Did you turn your photos in to your professor?” he asks.

“Yeah, I did,” you tell him. “Earlier this week.”

“Nice. What about your reference for grad school?”

“I asked him for it.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise. “How’d it go?”

“Mm…I was really nervous, but it went well. He said he’d do it.”

There’s such a tenderness to his expression that you feel so compelled to kiss him right now. “That’s awesome. I’m proud of you. That’s one step closer to your dream.”

You purse your lips together from his words, sitting with the warm feeling in your chest. You want to thank him again, but instead all you say is “we’re even now.”

He lets out a small chuckle. It comes from his throat. “You’ve said that so many times.”

“I know.” Because you can’t believe it’s all over. This little arrangement between the two of you. You don’t want it to be over. “I can’t remember when the first time I said it was.”

“That night,” he answers you fast and with certainty, like it was at the forefront of his mind, “when you drove over rocks. And we sat together on the curb. And I realized how badly you take care of your car. You don’t need thousands of chain restaurant napkins in your glovebox, by the way. No matter how much you might think you do.”

“Wow. I was almost romanced by you for a second, but you ruined it,” you mumble.

You’re instantly taken back to that night. You remember the gentle quality in his eyes as he stared up at the stars, and you can still see the reflection of that sky in his eyes right now with the way he’s looking at you. 

“I really liked you that night,” you whisper, “I wish you were like that all the time.”

“Am I not like that all the time?” he asks, voice soft to match yours.

“No,” you say, “sometimes you’re mean.”

His eyes on you are gentle, somewhat careful. “I’m sorry for being mean.” 

You wonder if you can change his mind. If you can will him to like you back, if you can will him into wanting a relationship with you. You want to be his exception, not his rule.

“It’s okay. I’m mean sometimes, too,” you say, “mean to myself for sharing a bed with a guy that doesn’t like me.” He’s looking at your lips as you speak. “I’m bad like that.”

“You’re not bad,” is all he says.

“I am,” you say, and you inch closer to him, until there’s hardly any space between the two of you. You look up at him, faces inches away. You feel so safe with him, and yet you also feel scared, because you like him so much that you would let him ruin you if he wanted to. You press a flat palm to his shirt, searching for his heart, and you find that it’s beating fast in his chest. “I’m a bad woman, Satoru.”

“y/n,” he says, like a warning.

“I mean it,” you whisper.

“You said you’d kill me if I touch you,” he reminds you, sounding a little breathless.

“I can’t kill you, you’re way stronger than me,” you whisper, “so touch me.” Your hand is gripping onto the fabric of his shirt now, tight, with desire. He’s looking at you with a whole lot of desire too, but there was something else there as well. “Please.”

He wraps his hand around your wrist–the heat of his touch that you so badly wanted, craved, finally on you–but it’s to pull you away from him. Your grasp on his shirt releases and he brings your hand to the front of your chest, laying it down gently before letting it go. Your wrist lays limp there, missing his touch. Limp in front of your beating heart.

“Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” he says softly. 

Your eyes widen when you look at him, and you couldn’t even hide the hurt that settled across your face if you tried. Gaze dropping to his chest, you see the way it was rising with every breath he took, and for the second time in this life, you’ve felt so utterly rejected by him. You give him a compliant nod, and scootch back away from him before turning away. He stays as he is, watching your back, and you can feel his gaze on the nape of your neck. 

Counting the minutes to fall asleep felt exhausting, but the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes was the feeling of a tear trickling down onto your pillow, wet and cold against your cheek.

–

You wake up the next morning to an empty bed, and an even emptier feeling heart. There’s also this weird feeling of disappointment within you, and you don’t really know why.

Grabbing your phone on the nightstand, you quickly search for the email with the men’s soccer team practice schedule, and you see that they had a sharp 8am practice this morning before the game in the afternoon. The time reads 6:37am, and you’re wondering where Gojo went so early in the morning before heading off to the practice field.

You went back to sleep for a couple hours, and then woke up again. By the time you took a shower, got dressed, and went downstairs to the hotel lobby to eat breakfast, it was already 10:00am and it was time to make it to the field so you could set up and calibrate your camera prior to taking photos for the match. Following Utahime’s gameday instructions, you took a cab to the location with all of your gear.

The Kyoto soccer stadium was less of a stadium and more of an extremely large and open expanse of grass that had enormous silver metal stands stretching across the perimeter. It was something you would expect of an area in the countryside, but security was still somehow tight across the fenced off area. 

It was still a couple hours before the game, so the field was bustling with pre-game set-ups and the stands were empty. There were a few sports canopies being put up, as well as a small truck with workers that were working to stock up the hydration stations. A few men in suits were seated at tables with notepads and clipboards, looking busy in conversation and on what sounded like business calls. As you walk down the sidelines, you notice a few other people checking the distances between the goals and the chalk markings across the field. The stands were extremely close to all of the action, and when you look to the right, you see a couple of familiar faces there.

“Ah, y/n! We’re over here.”

You approach the group of three people, all seated on the lowest metal bench of one of the spectator sections. There were a bunch of tripods, cameras, cases, and laptops sprawled across in front of them. You recognize Hana and Minato, but you don’t recognize the other man sitting with them. You had met Hana and Minato at the game against Osaka last week, they were both professional photographers for the newsletter.

Hana hops off the bench and comes up to you. “It’s seriously so cool you’re here with us and that Utahime got you this gig,” she says to you with a smile. “Make sure your schedule is free on nights after matches, all us photographers usually get dinner together afterwards. You’re the baby out of us, so we’ll pay for you.”

You return her smile with one of your own. “That’s sweet, and sure I’ll try to.” 

You glance at the man whose name you didn’t know, your gaze meeting his, and soon enough he’s jumping up onto his feet too and making his way over to you.

“Ah, this is Kaito. Kai for short,” Hana says, gesturing to the man, and then to you.

Kai extends his hand out for you to shake. He’s tall and a bit lean. His style is really boyish—totally nailing the street photographer outfit with the white shirt underneath a flannel one, and some Carhartt pants paired with some Vans. You reach out to shake his hand, and he holds onto it for a second longer than you would’ve expected.

“Hi,” you greet him and tell him your name.

“That’s a nice name,” he says with a smile.

Hana claps her hands together. “Okay! We all know each other now, that’s great. We should get started prepping before the players get here, I believe they’re scheduled to be here in an hour.” She walks over to the benches and picks up her digital camera. Minato grabs his as well as his tripod, then walks over to Hana’s side. “The way we usually do it is to split the field into corners, and each of us works that perimeter. The videographers are here too, so just make sure you don’t accidentally knock over or stand in front of one of their cameras.”

All three of you nod at her and you unzip your case to take your film camera out. Kai is next to you, looking at the device in your hands curiously.

“Kai, you can work with y/n for today since it’s her first day. Split up those two corners over there,” Hana says, pointing to the other end of the field. You and Kai look in that direction. “Minato and I will take the other short end.”

With a few more discussions and detailed instructions, the four of you disperse to your assigned locations. You’re a step ahead of Kai, although he should really be the one leading your stride since you’re the new one here, but he soon enough catches up to you.

“Is that a Canon AE-1?” he asks you, pointing to your camera.

You look at him a little surprised. “Yeah, it is. As vintage as they get.”

“Sweet, I used to shoot on film too. Second-hand?” 

“No, third. Still cost me an arm and a leg, though,” you sigh.

He laughs. “They’re not that expensive.”

“I’m a broke college student. I sometimes have to choose between paying rent and eating food,” you say to him.

He kicks at a random can on the grass, sending it flying forward, instead of picking it up. “Yeah, definitely don’t miss those days.”

“When did you graduate?” you ask.

“From UTokyo two years ago,” he says. 

You bend over to pick up the can he kicked and jog a little to the trashcan nearby, tossing it in, then jog back to him. “That’s nice. You’ve been doing this for two years?”

“Yup,” he says to you as the two of you reach the corner of the field outlined by freshly drawn chalk. He kneels down on the grass, sets his camera case down, and opens it up. Your jaw drops.

“Is that a—Leica camera?” you ask him, shocked.

He smirks up at you. “Sure is.”

“Oh, so you’re just rich, then,” you sit down on the grass to look at it with interest, marveling at its condition.

“Nope. I’ll bet I got it for cheaper than your Canon there,” he points to the camera hung at your neck.

You meet his gaze. “No way.”

“Way,” he says, pulling out the attachable lens before wiping at it with a microfiber cloth, “I know a guy. He sells used cameras. The only issue is you’ve gotta refurbish them yourself.” 

You sigh. “Wonderful. Because I would know how to do that.”

He lets out a half-laugh, and you glance up briefly to look at his expression. He was amused. “It’s pretty easy, just gotta do it once. And then you’ll have a used Leica that works brand-new, all for just under a hundred-thousand yen.”

You’re looking at him with surprise again. “That cheap?”

“Yup.”

“Wow…” Your finger plays with the lens cap on your camera.

“If you want, I can send you his info. But if you want to meet up with him, it’ll probably have to be facilitated through me,” Kai says, “He takes clients by recommendation. No use in selling a used camera to an idiot that doesn’t know how to refurbish it. He’s looking for niche photographers that have the interest.”

You press your lips together, considering it. “Sure.”

He hands his phone to you. “Alright, gimme your number.”

You hesitate for a second before typing your number into his contacts then hand it back and watch as he saves it in his phone. “Canon girl. Won’t forget ya.”

The two of you make work for a second, eyeing the field and mapping out angles of where to get the best shots during play. Kai gives you some pointers and you’re marveling at how good they are.

“Not really used to shooting on film anymore,” he mumbles, peering through the hole on your camera when you handed it over to him, “but usually a one over five-hundred shutter speed works well for sports. I’d switch between that and over two-fifty though, to avoid a blurry finish.”

“Thanks,” you say to him, wanting to write all this down to not forget it. “Wish I knew this last week.”

“Why shoot on film?” he asks out of nowhere, handing your camera back to you. “Why not digital?”

“Oh, it’s a personal interest,” you say to him, adjusting your shutter speed as he suggested, “I think there’s a charm to it. I want to be a movie maker, and shoot on film medium.”

He frowns at you. “How are you going to do that?”

You tilt your head at him, shuffling on the grass. “I’m going to apply to the film graduate program at UTokyo to start.”

He laughs at that from where he’s seated across from you. “Really? That’s a waste of your time.”

Your heart sinks a little in your chest from his tone. “Why would it be a waste of my time?”

He turns to face you more directly. “y/n, trust me, I know this career path. Been there, done that. Millions of film majors like yourself always have these big-ass dreams like ‘I want to become a director, I want to do screenplay’ etc., but only one or two of them actually succeed.” 

Your shoulders sulk. It’s not the first time you’ve heard those words from someone—your own parents practically recited them word-for-word before you headed off to college—but you had been doing really well all of senior year to ignore that nagging little voice in your head. It was honestly quite triggering to hear it all again right now. “Well, I think I can do it.”

He lets out a short scoff. “You sound real convincing there.” When he catches sight of your upset expression, he straightens his back a little. “My bad. Just trying to look out for you. I’m your senior in this industry. I know my way around these things. Trust me.”

You nod slowly. “I know. Thanks.” Part of you wonders if he’s just projecting.

“Well anyway,” he shrugs, “I think you should just focus on photography for now. It’s the safest career option for you to do.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, wanting to diffuse the conversation.

The two of you disperse to your assigned corners once the stands start to fill with spectators. Shortly after, the players make their introductions onto the field, and you can see Gojo across the field. He’s too far to read his expression, but for some reason when you look at him, that disappointed feeling from this morning comes back to you. You try to push it down and just focus on your task at hand.

UTokyo does well during the match, and Gojo seems to be playing much better than the Osaka game last week, scoring two goals within the first half. There were a couple of times where there were throw-ins near your corner, and you made eye contact with him as he’s breathing heavily, wiping the sweat off his face with his jersey, and every time you look at him, that melancholic feeling washes over you again. UTokyo wins 3-2, the crowd evidently disappointed as they were rooting for their home team, and by the time the disgruntled fans started to clear the stands, the sun was setting over the horizon and the sky was a golden color.

The referees on the field begin to oversee the post-match proceedings with the players. Kai comes around to meet you at your corner, and Hana and Minato arrive there too.

“Hey team! How’d it go?” Hana asks, a little out of breath from her journey over here.

“Went fine,” Kai responds.

“It was a little tricky,” you comment, “but I think my photos came out well.”

Hana nods. “Alright, sounds good. Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

Kai and Minato nod, and then all three sets of eyes are on you. You hesitate for a moment, and look off past them to where you see the group of soccer players in conversations with the coaches and referees. You see Gojo standing there, his hands on his hips as he peered across the field, tilting his neck to the side repeatedly, and you realize he had been doing that all match long. That unsettling feeling within you starts to brew once again. “Uh, I’m really sorry, but I’m not feeling very well. I think I might just head back to the hotel.”

Hana and Minato nod at you with a concerned expression, while Kai just looks disappointed.

“Okay, well, I hope you feel better,” she says.

You end up taking an Uber back to the hotel in haste, not wanting to run into Gojo or any of the other soccer players after their match, and make it to the room, using the key card that Gojo gave you to get inside. You take a shower to freshen up, and by the time it’s 7pm, you’re starving. You put on a simple outfit and make it downstairs into the lobby of the hotel, about to go peruse the nearby dining options, but right when you step out of the elevator, you run into Gojo.

There’s a look of pleasant surprise on his face and you take in his appearance. He was still wearing his soccer jersey, covered in grass and dirt stains, and his face was slightly flushed from exertion. You figured he just came back from the field.

“Hey,” he says, “sorry, I was just about to head over there.” He jerks his head off towards the lobby, and you glance in that direction. There was a group of maybe thirty people gathered around the lounging areas and high-tables over at the business suite, and you recognize them as UTokyo’s soccer players, along with Coach Yaga and other team staff. The players were still all clad in their uniforms, carrying all their stuff, and there were plays of today’s game rerunning across the TV screens. You realize they’re probably prepping for interview questions for tomorrow’s conference.

“Oh, please, go ahead,” you say to him.

He tilts his head at you. “Are you doing alright?” 

You were aware that things might feel awkward after last night, and that your cheeks would probably feel hot like they do now the next time you had to talk to him. Your mind takes you back to the memories, when you think about how badly you wanted him to stay with you in the room because of that hollow feeling in your chest from missing him, despite how you knew it was bad for you. Because this man standing in front of you doesn’t like you in the way that you like him. 

And then it clicks. The reason for that feeling of disappointment you’ve had since the moment you woke up today.

When you glance up at Gojo this time, you see him differently than you had from a second ago. You finally notice the slight dark circles under his eyes, and figure out that the reason he’s been tilting his neck to the side all day was because he was trying to stretch out a kink. You vaguely recall that moment you woke up in the middle of the night, and your sleepy brain registered that there was no longer the dip of him in the mattress next to you.

“When did you leave the room?” you ask him. You know your voice is quiet when he has to lean down a bit to hear you.

He takes his time answering, indulging in a few breaths. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you say, starting to sound hostile, “you left during the night, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t deny it.

“You left once I fell asleep,” you say, eyes widening with realization.

He sighs. “Yes.”

“Where did you go to sleep?” you ask, trying to keep your tone level.

“Suguru’s room had an extra couch. I pushed them together.”

You felt sick and sad, feeling something worse than rejection right now. There was a part of you that still thought that all of this from him was just a joke. A prank. That he was finally going to say just kidding, I like you too. The reason you’ve been so disappointed since the minute you woke up today was because there was a part of you that thought you were going to wake up this morning with his arms wrapped around you, back pressed tight to his chest while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear of how much he likes you, of how much he wants you, of how much he wants to be with you.

“Why? Even after I said I didn’t want you to have bad sleep?” Your voice was laced with hurt. You didn’t even know how to explain to him why it upset you, because deep down you’re scared it isn’t even valid.

“It’s fine,” he says, “I played fine today. And we won.”

“You could’ve stayed. Do you really hate me that much?” Your words are shooting to kill now. “So I’m good enough to finger in a bathroom at a frat party, but not good enough to sleep next to?”

He furrows his brow. “I don’t understand why we’re arguing about this,” he says, tone starting to match yours, “you’re the one that wanted space. I was just trying to respect that.”

“If you really wanted to respect my space, you wouldn’t have agreed to share the bed with me in the first place.”

“y/n,” he says, “that’s not fair.”

“You should’ve known better.” You’re breathing fast, tone searingly accusive. “You know that I’m trying to get over you, and that I’m vulnerable, and that I’m probably confused about a lot of things right now.”

“I ask if we could at least be friends, you say no because it’d be some recipe for disaster, then you practically beg me to stay with you and tell me to touch you while we’re laying down together. You don’t think that’s confusing for me too?” he counters.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at the memory of your desperate actions last night, and he instantly looks apologetic. You feel like you’re being unfair, but you feel like he’s being unfair too.

“I’m the one with feelings,” is all you say in your defense.

He swipes at his chin roughly with the back of his hand, smudging the dirt up to his cheek, and then closes his eyes for a second, like the weight of today has finally hit him all at once. He looks exhausted. “Right,” he says, softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Yo, Satoru!” one of his teammates yells from the center of the lobby. “Coach needs you, man.”

He rubs a hand down his tired face then throws a haphazard glance over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” he calls out and then looks back at you. You can’t make eye contact with him, and just stare at the print on his jersey instead. “I’ll sleep in Suguru’s again tonight. The room is yours.”

There’s a lump in your throat and you feel like you’re about to cry. “Okay.”

He reaches into his shorts pocket and gives you a room card. “Here’s the spare. I don’t need to come grab my stuff for the night, so don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

He sounds like he wants to say more, and you see him take a small step towards you, hand reaching out for you, but this time Coach Yaga’s stern voice is calling out to him too. He sighs. “Good night.”

“Mhm. Thanks.”

He hesitates before he turns on his heel and you watch his back, with that signature #10 stretched across the fabric of his uniforn, as he jogs through the hotel lobby to his teammates.

The walk back to the hotel room is depressing, and you find yourself dragging your feet all the way there. Once you make your way inside, you look around at the room and see some of Gojo’s belongings scattered around, but it didn’t seem like there were any of his essentials. You look down at the spare key card in your hand–a promise from him that he won’t try to upset you anymore tonight–and that lump in your throat from earlier comes back. 

You hated fighting with him. You hated being away from him. Those feelings that you thought would go away just as fast as they came still sat so stubbornly within your heart, and it was becoming impossible to bear. 

You wonder if meeting him was all just some horrible, twisted mistake. 

Before you have time to dwell on that sad sentiment, your phone screen lights up with a message.

|| 7:52pm unknown number: kinda sucks you’re not here with us. was looking forward to showing you more of my camera

|| 7:53pm unknown number: this is kai by the way

The features of your face feel heavy as you look down at your phone screen. You don’t even notice your eyes are teary until you realize the blur of your vision makes it hard to see the letters as you type out a response.

You just wanted a distraction from all this pain.

|| 7:54pm you: can you send me the address? i wanna be there

a/n. grrrr i love a one-bed trope so much grrrrrrrrr it's gonna do it for me every damn time lol. thanks a bunch for reading!! there's still so much that i've got planned for the series haha i think the second half is gonna be a lot crazier than the first. super excited to write it though. by the way! i'm starting a choso x reader zombie au series, if you'd like to read more about it and/or be added to the taglist, you can reply to this post here also if you want to be added to taglist in general, i'd recommend making sure your tags are on!! since i've noticed a lot of people have them off

➸ take me to chapter nine!

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd (hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk gojo #geto suguru #gojo satoru angst #nanami kento #choso kamo #series #yaga masamichi #alternate universe #college #college au #soccer #sports au #fraternity #sorority #tw drinking #partying #anime #romance #smut #fluff #angst #jjk smut #long fic #jjk series #ongoing series

[galamalion]

୨୧. 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄

summary. luffy's relationship with hancock begins to strike a deep nerve within you.

⤷ contents. monkey d. luffy x gn!reader, fluff + angst, boa hancock is rude, jealous!reader, light angst (resolved by the end), slight miscommunication // wc. 2.1k

⤷ notes. request by @amortentiaz for a jealous!reader over luffy's relationship with boa hancock. i think i got a little too invested in writing reader's anger, maybe i should write some more angst... i hope you enjoy! <3

Your boyfriend wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed.

Was he caring? Of course, he cuddled and hugged and kissed you near constantly. Was he attentive? Easily, he always wanted to snuggle with you, no matter your location—even if it led to some unfortunate circumstances.

But he may just be the most scatterbrained boyfriend anyone could ask for, and your current situation was perhaps the best example of his obliviousness.

"Ah, Luffy! I have more food if you want it!"

"Really?! Thank you, Hancock!"

You and Luffy had gotten pulled off your ship by a terrible storm, only a small makeshift raft of wood to keep you afloat. A miracle had led you to land on Amazon Lily, an island led by a woman with a fixation for Luffy.

And so here you were, stuck watching the most beautiful woman in the world drape herself over your boyfriend like they'd been married for the last thirty years. Sure, your boyfriend was the greatest catch in the East Blue, but he was your boyfriend. Not Hancock's 'sweetie pie honey bun super-special pirate king.'

You had just finished talking with Jimbei through the snail transponder, who informed you that the ship would be there tomorrow in the morning. Unfortunately, that meant you would have to stay here.

"Alright, Luffy," you sighed, "The Thousand Sunny will be here in the morning, which means that we're stuck here for tonight."

"There's a room prepared for you in the palace if you need it, Luffy! I can have whatever you need brought there," Hancock swooned, feeding Luffy a drumstick.

"Ooh! Hey, is there anything you need, ____?" Luffy turned to ask, voice muffled by all the meat stuffed inside his mouth.

You looked behind Luffy to meet eyes with Hancock, watching her expression sour at the mention of your name.

"I think I'm fine. Thanks, Luf," you muttered, crossing your arms.

"Ok, but Hancock can bring us anything, so if you change your mind you can ask her!" he grinned, taking another large bite of the drumstick.

You sighed, briefly meeting eyes with Hancock who silently scoffed at your presence. Angrily, you stomped out of the palace and out of the town, going far, far away from the oh-so benevolent queen of the island.

As you walked into the expansive forest of the island, you began kicking a rock with each step, muttering under your breath.

"Oh Luffy, here's some yummy food!" you kicked the rock. "Oh Luffy, what dress do you think I should wear?" you kicked the rock. "Oh Luffy, you should break up and we should get married and have a bunch of tiny beautiful babies!"

You kicked the rock off the path, watching it roll off into underbrush and onto the grass floor of the forest.

"Go on then," you grumbled, "go get married to the prettiest girl in the world! then you can really be King of the Pirates..."

As you walked further into the tropical forest of the island, you came upon a rocky cliff, a beautiful location covered in small plants and light foliage. Rocks jutting out harshly in every which way, moss growing upon it, unbothered and untouched.

This is just what you need.

You stepped up to the edge of the cliff and gazed at the forest below, wild and vibrant green hues filling up every space you looked at. The sky was similar, a brilliant cloudless blue, like a calm blue sea without a boat in sight. You could stare at this serene scene for all of eternity, if only time allowed.

Sighing wistfully, you closed your eyes and stretched your body, taking a deep breath.

And then, you screamed.

You screamed at nothing and everything, all at once. At Hancock and Luffy, together, singularly, at their actions, at their attitudes. You shrieked at Hancock's cruel expressions, her blatant disregard for your own feelings. You screeched at Luffy's oblivious disposition, his inability to realize how you felt about all of this. You screamed until your throat burned, until you could feel your eyes welling up with tears and your screams turned into sobs turned into silent crying.

Needless to say, it was a much needed catharsis.

You calmed yourself down and walked back to the bustling city, taking in the nature surrounding you. As you continued walking, a long, rubbery leg touched down onto the forest path. The leg was attached to your boyfriend, who jumped down from the trees with a bewildered and frightened expression on his face.

"Are you okay ____?!" I heard—"

"I'm fine," you snapped, brushing past him.

Luffy gave you a confused look as you walked towards the village, on your way to check out the room in the palace Hancock so graciously gave you.

It was placed right next door to Hancock's own chambers, no doubt because she wanted to keep Luffy close, but the interior was far more shocking. Instead of a giant king sized bed in the middle, two beds—one far bigger than the other—with a great deal of space separating them were inside. It was almost too obvious to tell which bed was Luffy's, given the amount of food and gift baskets surrounding it.

You were just shocked that she put you in Luffy in the same room.

Deciding it wasn't worth complaining about, you instead searched around the castle in search of a library, a place Luffy would never look for you.

It wasn't that you were mad at him. No, it would be more accurate to say that you were furious. But you knew deep inside your mind that it wasn't his fault. But you also knew that if you saw him again, you would blow up, explode, in his face.

You stayed in the library until midnight, reading fairy tales and historical texts, immersing yourself in the stories and history these books contained. You could feel the anger and jealousy in your veins dwindle with each page you read.

Once you had returned your amassed collection of books back to their shelves, you made your way back to your room. Expectations were low, you were fairly certain that Luffy wouldn't have a clue regarding your feelings, and a conversation would most certainly need to happen.

Walking quietly to your shared room, you carefully opened the door. the first thing you noticed was that Luffy was still awake, crouched in the middle of his bed. It wasn't strange for Luffy to be awake so late in the night, knowing that his sleep schedule was pretty irregular, but an unusually upset expression was etched into his face.

The second thing you noticed was that the delicious gifts surrounding his bed were uneaten, unopened, the wrapping on a few having not been touched.

Luffy noticed you immediately, the corners of his lips pulling down even further, his brow furrowed in a mixture of, seemingly, sadness and confusion, like a puppy watching their owner leave for the first time.

"Are you mad at me?" he blurted out quietly, clutching his knees.

All you could do was sigh in response, moving to sit on your own bed.

"I don't know," you confessed, looking away from him. "I'm...mad, yeah. But at you? I don't know."

Luffy remained quiet until you decided to break the silence.

"Hancock is pushy," you crossed your arms, "she's pushing my boundaries and she's pushing her way between us. I know she's a friend of yours and she's helped you a lot, but it hurts to watch her snuggle up to you and talk about the 'love' between you."

You looked up at Luffy, seeing the realization and hurt flood his eyes, his fingers twitching as his legs slid towards the edge of the bed.

He didn't say anything yet, instead squeezing the blankets and looking down at his feet, clearly composing his thoughts.

"I'm sorry, ____," Luffy whispered, standing up from the bed. "I know Hancock does nice things for me, but I don't see her like I see you,"

"Then why don't you tell her off? Tell her to leave you alone, tell her you're in a relationship?" you pushed, feeling the jealousy seething out of you.

Luffy frowned and walked closer to you, sitting down on your bed. "You're the greatest treasure I've ever found," he confessed, moving his hands to yours, "it's like you're so shiny and bright, and everybody else is all gray. I know Hancock talks a lot and gives me a lot of food, but if you don't want me to talk or take stuff from her, then I won't, promise!"

Despite your attempts to remain stoic, you were unable to disguise the twinge of a smile caused by Luffy's statement, choosing to nuzzle your face in his neck to hide.

"You don't have to ignore her, Luf. Just ask her to tone it down, maybe? She is the queen of this place. Even if I'm mad at her, I'd rather not piss off someone who can kill us with a snap of her fingers," you mumbled, playing with his vest.

Luffy gave you a big hug, wrapping his rubbery arms around once, and then twice. "If she tries to hurt you, then I'll stop her! You're way more awesome than her," Luffy declared with a pout, falling back into your tiny bed with you in his arms, "and I promise I'll be an extra awesome boyfriend for you."

"You're too sweet, Luf," you laughed softly, hugging him tighter. "But maybe we should move to the bigger bed?"

"I'm too tired, and I'm already comfy," he whined.

"Fine," you grumbled, too tired to argue with your much stronger boyfriend (and captain.)

"G'night, ____," Luffy hummed, pulling you closer to his chest.

You smiled, shutting your eyes, "Night, Luffy."

The morning seemed to come swiftly, light spilling into the room and striking your face. Your boyfriend was still wrapped around you like a vice, caging you tightly against his chest.

"Luffy," you groaned, trying to push him away, "you gotta let me go, it's time to get up,"

Luffy moaned and pressed his face to your chest, "Five more minutes, pretty please?"

"Jimbei said the ship would be here in the morning, the mor-ning, Luf. If we're late to meet them then Nami will beat our asses."

"Then I'll beat her up!"

"Then I'll have to dig your grave."

Luffy pouted and retracted his arms, crossing them, "Fine, we can go now."

Now free from you boyfriend's hold, you and Luffy changed your clothes for the new day, then exited the bedroom.

Immediately upon opening the door, you were greeted with the beautiful, illuminating face of Boa Hancock, who was clearly shocked and upset to see you exit with Luffy.

"Ah, Luffy! I just wanted to see if you wanted to have breakfast? I've had 60 eggs cooked and 30 plates of meat—"

"Sorry, Hancock!" Luffy interrupted, scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder, "we've gotta go!"

"But—"

Without letting her get another word out, Luffy sprinted through the halls of the palace and out of an expansive window, stretching his way across the viridian forest below.

The sights below were familiar, but it was strange seeing them down below. You could make out the path you travelled through the leaves, even catching a glimpse of the cliff you had stood on last night, a horrible moment during a horrible day that seemed so far away now.

As Luffy jumped from tree to tree, occasionally breaking through the canopy to give you that bird's-eye view, you eventually landed at the gate to Amazon Lily, where the thousand sunny was currently floating.

"Hey, lovebirds!" Nami yelled up, waving her arms, "you're just in time! Let's get out of here!"

"Please, let me go! I need to get onto that island!" Sanji cried out, held in place by Robin's devil fruit-generated limbs.

Luffy let out a boisterous laugh, "We're comin' down! Let's go, ____!" he howled, sprinting towards the ledge.

You looked over your shoulder, fear in your eyes, "Luffy, don't you dare!"

Luffy, ignoring your pleas for a safer entrance, leapt onto the ship with a battle cry, landing perfectly on the wooden deck with you in hand. He gently set you down, flashing a grin as he patted your shoulder.

"Wasn't that fun?!" Luffy exclaimed, dusting off his straw hat.

You collapsed in shock, sprawling your limbs out on the deck as you recovered from your near-death situation.

"We'll...we'll work on that," you panted, desperately attempting to catch your breath.

"Sweet! Let's go now!" Luffy cheered, pulling you back up

"Go? Where?" you asked, astonished, "we just got back to the ship?"

"I told ya, I'm gonna be and extra super awesome boyfriend!" he beamed, "now we have to go do some extra super awesome stuff!"

He once again wrapped you up in his arms, flashing a smile as he hugged you.

"I promise I'm gonna be a way better boyfriend from now on, I won't disappoint you!" he beamed.

You smiled back and ruffled his hair, kissing his forehead.

"You're already the best boyfriend I could ask for, Luffy."

"But I can be better!"

"Better than best?"

"Best of the best!"

You threw you head back and laughed, squeezing him back.

"Alright, Luf. Show me what you have in mind."

#╰┈➤ ✧.* 𝑜𝓅 #╰┈➤ ✧.* 𝒻𝒾𝒸 #luffy d monkey #luffy #monkey d luffy #luffy d monkey x reader #luffy x reader #luffy d monkey x you #luffy x you #luffy d monkey fluff #luffy fluff #monkey d luffy fluff #luffy d monkey angst #luffy angst #monkey d luff angst #luffy d monkey romance #luffy romance #monkey d luff romance #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece #fluff #romance

[yzashaven]

2023 KINKTOBER︰10﹒11

꒰ —♡ D U M B I F I C A T I O N﹒O V E R S T I M ꒱

EVENT MASTERLIST !

FEATURING ! itto, neuvillette, kazuha, cyno x fem!reader

WARNINGS ! dumbification ofc, mentions of overstimulation, mirror sex, prone bone, missionary, taken from behind, praise, degradation, clit stim, nipple stim, dacryphilia for itto if you squint, squirting, french with neuvi!!

NOTE ! NOTHING IS PROOFREAD HELP. i was supposed to include scara for this one but decided last minute to put his in a separate post instead :3 also i hope these count accordingly to the kinks <3 hell week is done for me so i think i can get started on the rest !!

event taglist— @yukiitaooo @scara6 @kana-de @ciarchivez @returningluv @im-the-ruler-here @kateybuggi @asimpforpeople @ju1yyyzzz @saturnsapothecary @supercoolusernameomg @uchihaeirin @anon-eu @gojoswife201 @abeitriz @mechanical-lily @breadybuu @dawning-bliss @poisonedmoonl1ght @nothingfuninthislife @eunchaeluvr @cuntz0ne @zomzomb1e @bitchylillyrose @zxdksimpo @kikosaidbye @bleubirdinthesky @rottmntrulesall @angelofdarkness2 @kvronushi @adeptuscharm @wolfiafan10

—ARATAKI ITTO

no because he can easily fuck you dumb due to his size + that oni strength and stamina goes a long way. trust. also loud mention of how cocky he becomes?!

"you look so pathetic, so needy~" itto was holding your ass up as he pounded your pussy from behind. if he wasn't holding onto your body, you for sure would've already collapsed by now—well your upper half had already done just that but that's besides the point here. your moans were muffled by the pillow that you held on to, it also catched the tears that rolled down your cheeks due to the amount of plessure being emitted to your body right now. "you take my cock so well. want me to fill you up, don't ya~?" he leans down close to whisper those dirty words in your ear. him being closer just let his cock reach deeper, causing your walls to clench around him tightly, earning a deep groan of approval from the oni. "fuck, didn't know you could get even tighter, hah~" he slows down his thrusts for a while, "feels real good, doesn't it? n-ngh~ that's because i'm the one fucking you. that's right~" he pulls back, making you whine and look back at him as the sudden feeling of emptiness engulfed you. he smirked, pushing your head back down into the pillow before slamming back in, thrusting roughly, eliciting loud moans and cries from you. "feels good? tell me it feels good, come on." he was now fucking you hard, waiting for you to comply with him, "f-feels so good~ itto~! fuck—right there~!!" listening to your sobs, he continues to drive you to cum around him. not soon after, he chuckles darkly at the scene before him; with a loud explicit moan of his name, you had let the feeling of intense ecstasy take over your whole body as you spasmed under him, squirting. the bed beneath was already soaked but this one had just made it even wetter than before. "god, you're just so hot, baby. come here, lemme fuck you some more~"

—NEUVILLETTE

he'd definitely fuck you on a desk with your legs spread wide open just for him, but that's a different story. for now, i'd love to mention how good he'd be at heart fluttering praise + mirror sex <3

"don't you see how perfect you look like this, ma amour?" neuvillette whispered directly into your ear as his hands continued to trail down your body, from the soft flesh of your neck and collarbone that were covered in lovely bite marks, to your hips, and to your thighs that were soaked of your arousal along with the mix of your previous orgasms not too long ago. "eyes on the reflection, pretty girl." you lazily direct your eyes to the large mirror in front of you both, showing a lewd scene; you sat on his lap with your two legs spread wide, his cock impaled you deep, stretching you out so much and so good. neuvillette's hands made their way down to your inner thighs, holding them apart, "see how well you're taking me?" he slightly lifts your thighs before slowly thrusting up into your still drenched cunt, making you whimper at the sensation of being filled yet again. "you haven't said a word in quite some time now, is that pretty little head of yours still functioning properly, hmm?"—it wasn't. he peeked at your expression in the mirror, a fucked out look on your face, drool coming down from the corners of your lips, eyes half lidded, all the while your moans and pleas were echoing throughout the walls of the enclosed room. "c-cumming—cumming...! cock s-so good... neuvi~!" he smirked at the way your body reacted towards his touch, thrusting up one last time, making sure his tip would hit your cervix as you orgasmed for what felt like the hundredth time already. kissing your neck softly as his fingers gently set a comfortable pace on your clit, "tu es si adorable, ma chérie~ tell me... tu as envie de plus~?"

[ "my love" ♡ "you're so adorable, my dear~" ♡ "do you crave for more~?" ]

—KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

MISSIONARY. justttt yes. he loves being able to see all of you; from your face, observing how it reacts to him—the way your lips part to gasp with each thrust that lets his tip hit your cervix, each cry for his name that left your lips drives him absolutely crazy.

"that's it, love... keep taking me like that~" kazuha coos gently, hands gripping at your thighs, spreading them open just for him. he's leaning close to you, allowing you to tangle your fingers in his soft hair. "darling~ you feel so good... can you feel me?" he bucks his hips, reaching deep inside you before beginning to grind against you as one of his hands makes its way to grope at your breasts, delicately fondling with the soft flesh and teasing your nipples in between his fingers. to which he then leaned down to take one in his mouth—licking around the bud and gently nibbling on it, eliciting a lewd moan from you. the mixture of that and his gentle grinding that had his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly made you feel weak. "k-kazu—ah~! gonna cum~!" "cum around me, love~ you're so pretty when you do~" with that, he pulled back before beginning to thrust into you again sweetly, at a pace that was comfortable for you as he helped you ride out yet another orgasm that evening. he paused his movements for a while, taking in the sight of you writhing beneath him, choked back sobs and sweet moans being drawn from your agape lips over and over again. "...you look way too ravishing for me to just watch you, love..." kazuha lets out a satisfied sigh, setting a faster pace than before, causing you to scream out his name in pornographic moans that echoed through the room as the moonlight was shining down at you through the window, making the scene look ever so majestic. "my darling~ looks so mesmerizing while crying out my name. let me hear more of you, i'll give you so... so much more tonight~"

—CYNO

deep prone bone. that's all that i can say other than oh dear archons he'd be another one that's pretty damn good at praise...but also throws light degrading word at you from time to time—he's serious during it i swear, no dad/cyno jokes (at least for this time)

"such a pretty whore you are..." cyno pulls back fully, only to slowly dip back inside, fully sheated within your warmth yet again. "...aren't you?" you moan as a reply, muffled whimpers attempt to escape your lips as he pushed your head further into the pillows beneath, making you look so helpless as he continued to fuck you into the soft mattress—a pool of your arousal beneath you, directly at your clit, coating it in the sticky and wet fluid as your sweet sensitive bud rubbed against the sheets, only adding to the stimulation you were already getting from his thrusts alone. cyno moves your hair to the side, giving him acces to the back of your neck, sucking on the soft skin soon after. "you smell so good, you taste so good... i can't ever get enough of you~" he groans, sharply snapping his hips against yours. he peeks at your face, smirking at the view, "fuck—you're practically drooling on this cock, pretty girl. s'that good?" you nod, slurring a few words of approval. cyno's hands grip your waist to elevate your hips a bit, letting his fingers graze your delicate skin towards your clit. his fingertips pleasuring the swollen, covered in cum little bud at a pace that matched with the thrusts of his hips and sending shivers down your spine that soon travelled to the rest of your body, "let me give you even more pleasure, my pretty slut~ you don't even need to say a word, stay still and take my cock, yeah~?"

#♡.･ signed by yza ✰°｡⋆ #♡.･ occasions ✰°｡⋆ #genshin smut #genshin x reader #itto smut #itto x reader #arataki itto smut #arataki itto x reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillette x reader #kazuha smut #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha smut #kaedehara kazuha x reader #cyno smut #cyno x reader

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Realizations

Dad!Simon Ghost Riley x Wife!Reader

Thank you guys so much for 1k, it means the whole world for me because now once did I expect to ever have my page grown this big and not once had I imagined that I would make these many friends here who happened to be so sweet. Also to @connorsui who has been most definitely been waiting the answer to this.

So in honor of 1k, I wrote this long awaited backstory for Ghost and Lovie (Ghostie's parents) that I hope you guys will enjoy since it so happens that our beloved @ave661 has posted another Dad!Ghost render. (Credits to her again for the renders in this post <3) (Sweetie, I love you but that tag on Soap with this render was unnecessary 😭🫶)

To the people who congratulated me, through replies, likes and reblogs, I owe y'all a fat kiss. Mwahhh <333

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @thesnowurzikdjinn @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @trepaika @starryylies @demidemon09

Warnings/Disclaimers: Stalking (not by Simon), Typical mentions of CoD violence?, Mentions of Simon's past abuse, Creepy guy?? (Not Simon), Mentions of violent and a bit gory descriptions on what wanted to do to the stalker, This is not proofread yet.

With the words of my mother and in true reputation style, Are you ready for it?

I think I need to say this on my account again, English is NOT my first language and all copyrights regarding the plot and some characters within the storyline belong to me. Edit: please help me y'all, I'm losing so much relevance in the span of less than a month, my recent works have gotten nothing and I'm scared that this post proves that. I think I've learned my lesson never to take breaks ever again 😭

Simon never imagined himself in this predicament, always thinking that he'd be out there somewhere, more likely drowning himself in a mission. Not even a home, he thought that if it hadn't for your persuasiveness to interact with him back then then he'd still be back in that shitty apartment complex.

Simon placed his duffle bag on the wood of the porch, the jingling of his keys while he looked for the correct one. He tried his best to make as little noise as possible, it was passed midnight, the last thing he would want was to disturb his wife and daughter from resting.

Hauling the duffle bag in and throwing it on the couch, Simon opt to see what his girls were up to. The giggling and commotion making him smile, you both were supposed to be asleep by now but you were unable to put her to rest because she's just too hyper, so that left you to entertain her by tossing her up and catching her.

"Dada..!" A squeal from the room came, the little one snapping her head to the opening of the door making you look as well, Simon took a peek from the half-way opened door.

Adorable little thing clapping her hands together, pleased that her dad is home while sitting on her mom. She got off, crawling near the edge of the bed with no sense of danger, fortunate for her that her dad is quick with catching her before you could.

You took a deep breath from the shock, looking at your husband and smiling sweetly at him. He asked you not to get off the bed as you were about to, laying next to you he snakes his arm underneath you on your waist and pulls you in.

"I missed my girls.." He said, voice deep and laced with exhaustion, despite that his hold and gaze was the warmest it could be.

"We missed you too Si, so much." You mumbled as your eyes flutter shut to enjoy his touch. You opened them to the sound of a kiss, he kissed the little one's forehead then yours.

Sometimes you vaguely remember the first time he and you met, how it even came to be, this life of domesticity. You, him and your little girl, family is a heavy word for Simon but it was just perfect. This was the family he wanted, the family that he thought he didn't deserve and never would have.

The feeling of coming home to all this started because you were so forgetful, who knew that would be the skill that brought you to him..?

• ──── ✦ ──── •

He emptied his pockets, to the lieutenant's dismay, the box of cigarettes only had one stick left. Since he was going out to smoke it anyway, he might as well get another box from the convenience store nearby. He took his keys from the kitchen counter and headed out, hearing a little commotion that peeked his interest.

Simon never paid much mind to whatever was going on within his apartment building despite the many gossips that were present within the building and the renters. So it happens that the old lady next to his place mentions how they'll be a new tenant in the other apartment next to his.

'Thank God' Simon thought, not that he was particularly religious but he'd been hoping for the longest time for the former renter to leave because let's be honest, who wants to live next to a frat boy with no sense of shame or consideration given that walls are thin? Little did he know he'd be blessed with the next one..

"Oh- I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to.." Simon hears a voice from a little below him, he'd only register what had happened after the fact. Poor girl carrying this box bumped into him a little too hard, so much so that she stumbled back a bit.

You stared up to the 6'4 man blinking, he only shrugged it off to which you smiled to. You tried to make small talk since you were new and it wouldn't hurt to at least know one person right? After all, you were trying to step out a bit of your comfort zone.

"Hi.. I'm [Name].." He only stared at you for a while and replied, "Simon.." you gave him a warm smile before nodding and continuing to bring the boxes into your new apartment while your new neighbor entered the elevator.

You cut the boxes open to start unpacking, a few minutes in and you decided to go on a short break, you rummaged through the small box of food only to find that the recently bought box of tea was empty. You sighed at this, humming as you remembered the convenience store you passed by earlier on the way to the apartment.

Taking your keys and locking the door behind you, you made your way out the complex and walked a few blocks, you only started to notice how late it was with the streetlights coming on even though the sun is only about to set. That's something to get used to, hmm?

The cool breeze hits your skin as you enter, scent of faint instant coffee and many other kinds of foods and products made themselves known. You walked around for a while, checking on what other things you might need but then you tried to remind yourself that you were saving up and on a budget so you took a box of tea and walked up to the register.

You heard footsteps behind you falling in line, after placing the box on the counter, you searched your pockets for your wallet.

'Shit..!' you cursed yourself out mentally trying not to panic as Simon basically watches you frantically patting your pockets, you left your wallet back at the apartment. "You left your wallet-" Simon stated the obvious, "I'll cover it.." there wasn't even a time to argue with him, he just stepped next to you and placed the pack of cigarettes.

"I'll pay you back as soon as we get back to the apartment" You insisted to which Simon only shrugged and declined, it's just a box of tea and it's not like it'll make him go bankrupt, besides he liked your taste, the one you got happened to be his favorite brand.

Since you were headed in the same place anyway, you and Simon walked back together side by side, however one thing you did find odd was when he gently took you wrist and pulled you inward next to him, he was the one now closest to the road.

The walk back was silent, a comfortable silence. A few days after that encounter, you made sure to make an effort for him to know that you appreciated his gesture back at the convenience store. The lieutenant was alarmed by the knock on his door, opening it to find no person but a tupperware filled with buttery shortbread cookies.

He smiled at how tiny the plastic container looked in his hands, how he noticed the note attached "Thanks for the tea, this isn't that special but I hope you like it -[Name]" and the Sanrio themed stickers stuck onto the lid and on the top part of the tiny note. You ran out of sticky notes..

Simon found himself snacking on those cookies later on, oddly enough, they reminded him of his mom.. how she used to love baking back then, it was her way of escape whenever Simon's "father" wasn't home, as well as gardening.

For the first time in a while Simon "Ghost" Riley let out a smile that wasn't smug or a smirk but a genuine smile, one that had warmth to it, one that no matter how hard his mind tried to surppress it, his body refused to.

It didn't take long for you and Simon to get to know each other a bit, little by little it seemed like you two were becoming like friends rather than just neighbors. Let's be honest, who just randomly gives their neighbors weekly baked goods for the sole reason of "just because they wanted to"?

You found yourself always looking forward to the Friday nights chilling with him at the rooftop, mugs with hot tea on hand while he smoked and you read.

Listening to his stupid jokes and remarks that slowly turn into deep conversations and life things. Simon was just... far more open than he's ever been, sure he's talked about his day before to his comrades but never like this, not in a way where he's pouring his heart out, letting you in on how he feels about certain things.

He just got back from a mission, a rough one to be exact. Shoulders slumped from exhaustion as he walked the streets near the apartment complex, no space for his bike so he had to leave it somewhere private while he fidgeted with it's keys.

Simon swore that he almost jumped out of his own body, first instinct being to push you off but he recognized you. He gave you a questioning look, hands were shaking as you so desperately linked you arm around his.

"Hmm?" He hummed, hearing you mumbling something but it was incoherent to his ears.

"Behind us.. please Si, help..." Come to think if it, you never knew when Simon turned into Si. Best believe he knew and still remembers when perfectly.. not the time, there's a serious threat, he didn't look. He didn't need to, guessing by the heavy footsteps, some creep decided to follow you at this hour.

He slowly slipped his arm away from your grip and snaked it around your waist, pulling you in closer to his side while the two of you continued treading closer to the complex. You closed your eyes for a few seconds at a time hoping it would end.

• ──── ✦ A few days later ✦ ──── •

Knocking, frantic knocking was what Simon heard at his door. He wasn't expecting anyone, so why the sudden visit? He opened the door and saw you, Simon knew something was off from the look on your face, you looked pale as if you were sick to your stomach while trying so desperately to catch your breath.

"Can I please come in.. Simon..?" You asked in between breaths. You looked around you, especially behind you, body shivering a bit. He took notice of this and had no hesitation, he pulled you in by your arm. His grip firm but gentle, Simon closed the door behind him.

"Remember that guy who was creeping around when I asked for your help..?" You tried to explain but Simon already knew the moment your mouth opened. You had a stalker.. it was best to call the cops on shit like this.

Simon did his best even though not knowing much about how to comfort someone, he did well in making you feel safe without having to tell you that he'll do so, you just know it in your gut that he'd protect you even if it's just now.

Your breath picked up, slowly backing away from the door as you heard footsteps, clenching your fists and hoping that he didn't see you enter Simon's door. Simon wrapped his arms around you, keeping you in place and from further backing away from the door.

You felt his palm drag up and down your back, it was extremely warm, it stopped for a while. His arm wrapped around your waist, other hand in your hair pushing your head down a bit so it was buried in his chest while you gripped his shirt. Simon felt your trembling body against him slowly relax.

"Deep breaths, angel.." The nickname he whispered would've made you smile under any other circumstance but not right now, you needed to calm your nerves before you panic and make an impulsive decision that could hurt yourself. Like instructed, you followed along Simon's demonstration, pressing his forehead onto yours maybe just a bit too intimately.

You winced at the loud sound of banging on the door, you knew it too well. Simon shoved the handle of his combat knife in your hand, he told you that if anything were to happen, protect yourself with it.

As soon as the Lieutenant swung the door open, you could hear punches, things knocking over and among other things, your stalker's voice.

You'd never forget that, how pitchy it was. Nails on the chalkboard was the best way to describe it, how the man was cackling almost made you annoyed. Simon called on security and the man was dealt with, you came out from hiding and saw both fear and anger in Simon's eyes.

You would never know how much he wanted to tear that man's heart after skinning him alive for even bringing fear into your eyes.

Simon "I care too much for someone I just met" Riley finally saw how his knuckles and fingernails were caked with blood, went off to go wash it and himself.

Getting back to you after half an hour, you reached out for him only for him to withdraw, you looked at him confused and he looks at you with pure guilt..

Your eyes widened in realization, "Oh Simon.. I'm not scared.." you smiled at him. He reached out a shaky hand to you, hesitating before closing his hand back.

You took his hand in yours, bringing it up to your lips and giving it a small kiss, hoping it calms his nerves. Well it did the opposite, it even more overwhelming for him having you kiss his palm while you look up at him, watching you nudge your face into his palm so invitingly.

The way your lashes just sat perfectly atop your cheeks while you slowly blinked up at him. Pressing the same scarred and calloused hands that almost killed a man that night on your face and rubbing the back with you thumb.

Simon had never felt that much guilt before for hurting someone, only after he saw the look in your eyes, which in turn were not something he caused. For the first time in his life too, Simon was comforted by something or rather someone immensely..

#cod x reader #aethelwyne lia writes #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod headcanons #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost drabble #ghost x plus size reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x y/n #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x you #simon ghost #simon riley x plus size reader #dad!ghost #dad!simon

[hoseoksluna]

WHITE | jjk

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc

genre: smut

word count: 8.1k

summary: craving white wine, your boyfriend would do anything for you—even let you dom him.

pinterest board: wine

warnings: alcohol consumption, wine!oc is dominant and she's enjoying it, plushie used in a sexual intercourse, dd/lg, jk is desperate and so horny, hand job, oral sex (m. + f. receiving), fingering, squirting, raw sex, the importance of sex being imperfect, use of sex toys — yes, plural, dirty talk, spanking, face riding

note: i'm genuinely sorry for this—SDFKJDSLFJDSLFJS. this is the last wine drabble <3 i loved writing about them again, ugh i missed my babies so much. would you, guys, also like me to write two drabbles about the steam series? i feel like it would only be fair like this. vote in the poll below, pwease. <3 hope you like this last installment.

Your boyfriend has an immense, insane amount of energy. 

You have partly yourself to blame. It’s Saturday night, summer at full blast and you felt it thrumming so deeply and intensely within your veins that you found yourself craving your most favored mood-lifter in the world. 

White wine. 

You’ve almost spent every weekend drinking myriads of different alcoholic beverages, but the white nectar is something you’ve quite neglected. Well, not so much as neglected, but forgotten about entirely. The last time you drank it, you and Jungkook were on far, far different terms. Fuck buddies with a degradation kink, skipping a party because you got horny again. You wonder if things would’ve turned out the same way if you hadn’t decided to spice up your getting ready time with that drink. Would it change the course of events that led him to confess his feelings for you? Would you have allowed yourself to fall for him, had he not made you drunk with his allure?

You only had to mention your thirst and Jungkook was quick to get up to his feet, take his keys, phone and wallet and he was out the door before you could say anything else. Your fond giggles vibrated across the room—so much that Bam lifted his head and jumped on your lap and so you spent the remaining time alone cuddling with the canine friend, catching up in your lovey-dovey dog language, kissing him all over until you dolled him up with red lipstick marks. 

He looked so good. Was happy about it, too, because when his Daddy came back, he was similarly quick to show him. 

And Jungkook, he laughed so hard that he clutched his own stomach, doubled over, his shoulders shaking. Then, he sat next to you on the couch, pulled you in for a hug as if he hadn’t seen you in years and very solemnly told you that it was his turn now. 

The words that tumbled out of you were so swift, without any kind of embrace of thought beforehand, that you didn’t have the time to consider the consequences they would come with until they dazzled you. Through and through, ridding you of your sense of sight. 

“You’ll get your kisses only if you show me that you bought the wine.” 

Jungkook’s eyes grew in size, darkened in nightly fashion. Twinkles flickering, dimly. The atmosphere, the dynamic and energy shifted, folding into something you haven’t yet experienced in such depth, calming your eyes until they blended back into normalcy. And you wouldn’t perceive it for what it truly was, had Jungkook not wordlessly left to fetch his bag from the convenience store, along with a corkscrew and two glasses, and had he not crouched in front of you. 

The view left you stunned. The blatantly obvious fact, too. 

The fact that, somehow, you were in control.

And it was so different from the last time due to a simple reason. Jungkook wasn’t the one who initiated it. Didn’t tell you to be in charge. Didn’t give you his control in words, in commands. No, it happened arbitrarily, on its own and Jungkook submitted to it. Submitted to you. Put down his control once he lowered his form between your knees, giving it to you this way, silently. 

A thing of utter beauty, filling you up with vibrancy, enthusiasm and… passion. 

He showed you his haul, unloading it onto your lap. Sparkling white wine in a golden bottle, dog treats, cheese and crackers and… Miffy. 

Miffy in a way you haven’t seen her before. 

Made into a sleeping position. Black eyes shut, round butt risen in the air, even rounder tail perked, body soft and drowsy. Bigger than the bunny resting alone on his bed in the other room. 

You purred, squeezing her hard before you hugged her to your chest, careful not to smear your makeup on her when you pushed her up to your neck. Looked at your quite small boyfriend with a ravening gaze as you said, “You got bunny a sister, how cute. Well done.” 

Your praise coaxed a noise out of Jungkook that you never heard before, one that stirred the eternally slumbering beast in you that had not once seen the night enveloping you. A concoction, most delicious and arousing, of a whimper and a hum. It settled within your core, teasing you there, making you want more. You told him, or the beast more like, to open the wine and he obeyed, right away. 

You watched him do it. Watched the flexing of his muscles, tense beneath the fabric of his tiger-print shirt. Watched him not spill a drop and then pour you a glass until it almost overflowed. He handed it to you, expecting you to take it from him, but you caught him off guard. 

“Taste it for me first.” 

His mouth fell agape. Remained parted when he immediately brought the glass to his lips and took a large sip. Your eyes followed the bobble of his throat as he swallowed and you gave him a big smile for it. A praise, too. 

“Good. Let me have a sip now, my hands are full.” 

In typical fashion, he drew close to you until your knees squeezed him in, legs wrapping around his torso. One hand wrapped around your hip, the other tipped the glass to your mouth and you looked at him and did not stop until you took a big gulp. 

“More.” 

He tipped it again. “Tastes good?” 

You nodded, liking the sweetness and the fizziness, but this time you didn’t swallow the nectar. Jungkook set the glass down, along with his haul, averting his gaze momentarily and you cupped his chin, bringing it back to you. Leaned in and, in a heated kiss, you spewed the wine out into his mouth. He gasped, pulling away, flushed cheeks a tiny bit full, lips pursed, one mouth end wet with a trickle flowing down. It would’ve been an adorable sight, had his eyes not narrowed, darkened further more and pierced you with such intensity that your clit gained a drum. 

Your finger felt for the top button of his shirt. “Swallow. Don’t be messy.” He did. Swore. Breathed hard. You undid the button, lifting your digit to wipe his chin clean, smearing it on his bottom lip until he opened for you. You plunged in. Let out a low sound of delight once he wrapped his puffy lips around it. 

And now here you are staring at each other, finger in mouth. His newly secured energy pulsating in him, seconds away from bursting, brutally. You can see it, vividly, and you prepare yourself for it—blaming partly yourself and, feignedly, the palatability of the white nectar for being the cause behind it. He’s waiting for the next move, countenance terribly solemn and stiff. His hands must be oh so itching to take over, but he sticks to the unspoken, patient and good. 

Taking out your finger gently, you undo the rest of his buttons, aware of the shudders zapping his body the more you reveal his smooth skin. Jungkook straightens for you, palms on your thighs, breathing heavily, a sound that brings out the strangest of oxymorons in you—simultaneous nervousness and confidence. Nervousness that you call the shots; confidence that the paintwork of his arousal is signed with your name. 

And it’s the latter that the beast plucks out, like a twig of flower off a tree. 

You push Jungkook back and slide into his lap, biting your lip at the contact of his hardness under the flimsy material of your ivory pajama shorts. His hands clasp around your small hips, but you pry them away, deeming that if you are in control, then it’s you who decides when he gets to touch you. His brows rise when you pin them down and at last he beams up at you, eyes lidded and drunk, despite the fact he merely had two sips of alcohol. Bunny’s sister rests askew in your joined laps, her head pointed towards your mound and it forces a certain idea into your muddy brain. 

One that Jungkook fleetingly interrupts. 

“You’re gonna take control of me?” 

Ooft, making it official. You hum your agreement, repositioning the plushie. Place her directly against his imprint and, pushing the soaked center of your shorts to the side, you sit down on her soft face. Begin to rock slowly. Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat, fists clench on either side of him as well as his jaw, chin upturned. He’s holding himself back with all of his might and it is only now that you feel your wetness dripping onto the fur, now when the vibrancy of the faint pleasure spreads across your every nerve ending, now when you know that he’s struggling to keep his composure. There’s something so incredibly satisfying about it that you rock your hips harder, whimpering, hands gripping his shoulders. 

“Can you handle it?” you murmur, already knowing that he won’t be able to the moment you decide to take things further, but you give him a slither of a chance to prove you wrong, rooting for him from within with a sly smile on your face. 

Jungkook pokes his tongue in his cheek, sighing, eyes descending to your neck and to your perky, pebbled breasts under your low cut top. “I’ll handle anything you come up with as long as I get your kisses.” 

His sweet response gratifies you so much that you arch your back, lowering your hands down to his chest, the thrum on your clit becoming unbearable, the soft friction of the plushie doing very little to alleviate it. You whine, picking up your pace. “Even—even if you don’t get to touch me?” 

Jungkook hesitates, biting his lower lip. A certain sadness coasts his now big eyes that makes you coo endearingly and slow down, feel so bad for him. “Anything for you.” 

You can’t halt the groan from escaping, the groan that roots from the passion and the love you carry for him, from the principle of his submission. You’ll make it up to him. Play with him just for a little while and you’ll give him his rightful upper hand right back to him, all because he was so quick to be your little toy. Without a thought, nor a word spared. Without a struggle. He deserves it. Has come a long way. 

“You’re just my little slut, aren’t you?” You grab a hold of his throat, tip his chin up, feel his vein throbbing. “My pretty little slut. Hard for me, hm? Will do anything for me?” 

Widening his eyes, mouth parted, he moans, sucking in a breath, chest lifting rapidly. Hand automatically lifting to palm himself, just in time to realize that he can’t because the plushie and your lap is in the way. “Yes, I’m your little slut and I need you so bad. Need your kisses.” 

You hum, terribly, terribly satisfied. Horny. A fire, personified. Fire and energy—a wonderful mixture about to meet. “Where, baby?” 

His breath shakes, his being radiated by you, glistening in sweat. “Everywhere, please.” 

You drift your hands down his chest. Think he earned them now by asking so nicely. You sit back on his thighs, plushie in hand, ready to chuck her away, but then another idea comes up. 

Grabbing her by the back of her neck, you use her to kiss him. On his jaw, on his neck, on his left peck, nipple and the mole underneath, making kissing sounds. Jungkook shudders at the contact upon his most sensitive spots and you can see his disliking for it before he voices it out. You revel in it, his desperation becoming your obsession. 

“No, not from her. Please, from you.” 

But in spite of that, your craving to give him everything is stronger. 

You toss her on the couch, hands instantly clasping around his neck. You kiss him, wetly, on his Adam’s apple and he whimpers, urging you to continue. The sides of his throat, collarbones, shoulders—you mark him everywhere with your red lipstick, making a pathway down his sternum before you go sideways. Create a large shape of a heart on the left side of his peck, coloring it in with bruises, with kisses so hard that his manhood twitches in his pants. You’re so focused on adorning him, on the citrusy taste of his skin, that you don’t even sense your hands as they rid him of his shirt, unbuckle his belt and undo his button, dragging down his zipper. 

You rise to your feet, out of breath, puffy mouth, lipstick slightly smeared, head spinning. “Take off your pants and get on the couch.” 

The golden buckle of his belt catches your eye as he stands up. You wrap your hand around it and tug it out of his belt hoops harshly. There’s a hint of timidness in the vast sea of his arousal once he looks at you, aware of what you’re planning with the leather band. With a giggle, you merely wink at him and Jungkook blushes, dropping his gaze in tandem with his pants. 

“Boxers, too?” 

You edge around his side and envelop your arms around his middle, mouth pressing against his spine. A big, red mark of your lips amidst the broadness of his back. Utterly, utterly beautiful. “Smart boy, yes—off with them, now.” 

Jungkook laughs, softly, shyly. You wish you could see his blush deepen as the clenching of his abdomen divulges to you how much he liked that praise. You also wish you could feel the fluttering of the butterflies inside, if there are any at all. You’re getting to know him in such a new way that you otherwise would have never had the opportunity to do so. The shudders, the tension under his skin, the lively energy that is yearning to burst and rain upon you—it is all so awfully exhilarating, even more so the fact that you hold it all in your tender grasp. 

And he lets you. In the name of love. 

He drops his undergarment and he goes to sit down like you told him to, but you squeeze him harder against yourself. No, he’s not going anywhere. The heat, his soft skin, his gentleness and shyness—you want it all close to you, close enough to seep into your pores so it can make bed there and live there perpetually. So snug, so homely—yes, that’s precisely what it is. Home. 

You skim your hands down the defined muscles of his stomach, feeling them move under your fingers. Take his wrists behind his back and keep them there, unrestrained yet, his belt curled on the coffee table. You bring your hands back to his stomach, lowering them down—

“Can you reach me?” Jungkook asks, head turned to the side. You’re so used to degradation in your sex life that at first you thought he was mocking you, but on the contrary—he’s asking in all genuinity. With his forearms pressed to his sides, he’s bigger than he usually is and he wondered if your small form can stretch enough to touch him. 

How sweet. 

“Such a good, thoughtful boy.” You grab his length. Had to do it from the side a little bit, but you don’t mind. At least you get to see him. See the way he twists his features at the contact, see his energy and his muscles straining. “I guess I can, huh?” 

You tug at his length rapidly a few times. His body shudders again, almost doubles over before he straightens his spine, whimpers trickling out of his mouth and rooting in your heat, soaking your pajamas. And when his sounds rise in volume, you swiftly let go of him. Fetch the belt and fasten it around his wrists, leading him to take a seat on the couch. 

Manspreading, cock hard, red and long, almost kissing his belly button, hands behind his back, muscles big and flexed, face features darkened by his arousal, ravagedly fixed on you—fuck, you could come from the view. 

You sink to your knees in front of him. Itch so fucking hard to take him in your mouth and make that energy paint you in white, but watching him like this—you plan something else entirely. Pressing one kiss on his V-line, you glide your lips upon the tip of his length, making him tremble in desperation. It takes all of your strength not to give it to him, but you know he will be overjoyed with the little thought that’s swarming in your brain. 

“Where’s your fleshlight, baby?” 

Jungkook loosens a hard, flabbergasted breath and his pretty, pretty cock twitches against your mouth. 

You knew it. 

You bought the toy together yesterday. It’s still unopened in a box somewhere in his bedroom; you don’t know where he hid it. He may have not wanted to spend money on it, but when you witnessed the way his eyes glowed, you convinced him to get it. Begged him. Told him you wouldn’t leave the sex shop until he bought it and he gave in, timidly. Much to your delight.

“In the closet,” Jungkook croaks out, clearing his throat and you kiss his other V-line as a reward, kitten licking his tip for a millisecond as you rise to your feet. He whimpers, again in desperation.

“You can’t get it, can you?” you taunt, lovingly, fingers hooking under your shorts and dragging them down your hips, your top following over your head. His eyes follow your every movement, fixing on your feminine parts, muscles bulging, yearning to touch you. You grow wetter, being looked at, being desired like that. “You’re just a helpless baby.” 

He moans your name, signaling to you that there’s only so much he can take and you understand. You’re quick as you hurry to his bedroom, quick to find it, quick to pull the toy out of the box and quick to return to him. 

There’s a trickle of his male arousal gliding down his length when you stand between his legs and your own desperation to pleasure him heightens in you—so much that you’re equally quick to unfold your plan. 

You grab his chin and tip it up, harshly. Kiss him so nastily that he moans into your mouth and then… then you stare him dead in his eye. “I’m gonna put the fleshlight under bunny’s sister and you’re gonna show her how hard Daddy fucks his girls, yeah?” He’s left speechless, breathing rapidly, coated in sweat. Eyes narrowed, still darkened but now glowing with that familiar light that you saw yesterday, black irises piercing you through and through. “You should give her a name, though. Have something to moan when you fill her up, hm?” 

It’s evident, the way his brain malfunctions, but he surprises you. 

“Vinny.” 

Vinny and Bunny, how adorable. 

You coo, pecking him. “Vinny it is. Such a pretty name. I’m gonna make you nice and wet for her. Would you like that?” 

“Please.” 

You descend to your knees and you don’t hesitate to immediately take him into your mouth as far as you can. You gag around him, but you relax your throat, bobbing your head only slightly, testing yourself, wanting to stretch your throat out for him. Jungkook groans, squeaks little mewls as he doubles over once more, and the sound is so obscenely loud that your clit throbs harder in response and you would touch yourself if your craving to pleasure him wasn’t stronger. 

You pull out until you can stack both of your hands on his length and while your tongue plays with his tip, you twist your wrists. Only briefly, just to make him feel a little better before you lick him all over—just to stay true to your words. And when it’s your name that comes out of his mouth once you slobber all over him, you withdraw altogether. 

“Please… please,” Jungkook whimpers, trembling and you feel terribly bad for him. So much that you pucker your lips at him and kiss his cheek endearingly as soon as you get on your feet again, purposefully ignorant to the way your cunt likes his helplessness. 

“I got something better for you, Daddy, don’t worry,” you reassure him, slipping into the dynamic your familiarity using the title. You grab Vinny and the fleshlight, placing her on top of the toy, on the armrest of the couch—her butt and her pussy facing him. 

And when you glance at him to see his reaction to your artwork, you’re stunned by the look he gives you. Mad, mad stare. Awfully dark and menacing. It would disquiet you if didn’t know that he loved you. There’s no way you could take the liberty in toying with him like this, had you not become exclusive—had he not created a realm of safety for you to do that in. 

“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you for this,” Jungkook threatens and the sliver of normalcy in the middle of the role-play that he caught onto makes you giddy and feel so fucking alive. The threat, too. You quiver in anticipation and excitement, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re not walking after this.” 

You laugh, softly, thrilled. “I sure hope so,” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm to lift him up. “I’m dripping for you.” 

Jungkook hisses. Won’t budge. Remains seated, looking up at you. Doesn’t reciprocate your smile. Scowls, instead. “Can I taste you?” 

You shake your head ‘no’, even if it emotionally pains you. “Not right now.” 

He sighs and you take his arm again. This time he obeys—lets you lead him into the position that you want. On his knees, still on the couch, perfectly at level with Vinny’s pussy patiently waiting for him. Jungkook looks at her for a long time, studying the silicone shape of her clit and lips. You’re certain that if his hands were free, his thumb would’ve traced her soft vulva.

“Do you like her pussy?” you ask, your grin only widening, eyes blazing, emitting hot sparkles of light. You’re perhaps more excited and enthusiastic about this than he is. 

Jungkook looks at her for a split second more before he flicks his intense gaze to yours. “Yours is prettier.” Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart follows its footsteps, skipping a beat, springing up and grazing your vocal cords. You can’t get a word out—you’re stupefied, in love, so impassioned that you resemble him with all that fire in you, taking after his energy buzzing in him. You sense the same movement in you, hotter, more vigorous. Your mouth parts and, cheeks awash with color, you’re on the verge of bursting. “Let me touch your little pussy, please.”  

You bite your lip, pause a tiny bit just to regain your composure and you sigh, eventually, gripping his face in your hand, squishing his cheeks. “I said,” you start, emphasizing your warning just to see his flush deepen like you wanted. “Not right now. Can’t you listen?” 

For a fleeting moment, there’s a heavy silence filled with his hard breaths. 

Then, Jungkook glares at you. 

“I’m gonna destroy you.” 

You chuckle, girlishly—even though his threat yet again thrums within your skin, even though your body craves to submit to him, throw the playtime away, forget about it, entirely. “Talk all you want. See where it gets you.” With your other hand, you take his length and line it up at Vinny’s entrance. “Fuck her.” 

Now—now he finally grins, a puckish smile that unnerves you a little bit, as if an idea crawled up into that smart brain of his. 

And he proves you right. 

“I’m gonna show her how I’m gonna fuck you,” he mutters, drawing closer to Vinny, to the arm rest. “Where’s the lube? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.” 

A trickle of cold sweat trickles down your spine and it’s you who’s left speechless now. You were so quick to return to him that you did forget the lube, mind void of rationality, filled with him that you forgot such an essential thing. You swear under your breath, feeling stupid. 

“Go get it before I rip this fucking belt apart and use it on you.” 

Wordlessly, embarrassed with your head down, you go back to his room and fish for his lube in his bedside drawer, noticing that it’s where he keeps the vibrator for you. You haven’t used it in so long in your playtime and you reminisce, briefly, on the last time he made you come with it. On this very bed, on his lap with bunny on yours as he rearranged your guts with the toy on your clit—teasing you by lifting it and placing it between the plushie’s legs, acting for her and screwing up his features in pleasure.

Your heart thuds at the memory, your thighs sodden with your essence, and a certain expectation creeps within its chambers. The expectation that the toy will make a comeback tonight. That is, if you even deserve it. 

You cringe at your wetness while your feet pad back to the living room. Jungkook stares you down, guilt written all over his face for being mean and it mollifies your negative feelings, dispersing them away from you. It’s enough for you—you don’t really want to talk about how you pitifully failed, nor do you want to hear a mention of it, but Jungkook seemingly does. 

Up close, his eyes are awfully soft as if he made a mistake with his last words. You don’t think he did—he’s always been the leader in your playtime, so you deem he only did the right thing. Besides, you’ve worked him up to the point of anger, so from your standpoint, he didn’t do anything wrong. You did. 

“Come here,” he says, gently, leaning in and angling his head. “Put your arms around me.” You do as he says, needing to, needing to be led for a little while before you can resume. You sink your fingers into his hair as you rest your forearms around his shoulders, even though all you want to do is rid him of his restraint and let him fuck it out of you. He kisses you with such tenderness that you whimper in sensitivity and amorousness, taking it one step further and moving your mouth against his, slipping your tongue inside. It’s a brief kiss, no matter its intensity, for he still has something to say. “You’re doing so well tonight. I never thought I’d ever get this hard from you being the boss of me. I’m sorry for snapping, you hear me?” he whispers against your lips, each movement causing his pillows to touch yours in faint, faint kisses that make your mind spin and your desire for him to lengthen across your whole body, deepening. You nod for him, hearing his words, needing them, too—glad for the honesty, for the check in, for the sliver of normalcy. “I’m just so horny and I need you. I didn’t mean it, okay? Daddy didn’t mean to talk to you like this. He loves you and you made him so needy that he’s frustrated, but it’s okay. He can handle it. Do you love your Daddy back, hm?”

You moan at the continuation of his words, running your fingers through his hair, inching closer to him until your chest softly collides with his. And his reassurement, the warm feeling of his skin, the potency of his love—it all erases your mistake, leaving only your sensual craving for him. You nod, again, like a little girl given a talking-to from her father, absorbing the lesson. “I love you.” 

Jungkook hums, pleased, pecking you. “Good. I’m gonna do what you want now, baby. Gonna make you proud, listen to every word like a good Daddy, hm? You can do anything you want to me. You’d like that? You wanna keep going?” 

You smile at him, sweetly, and he kisses your expression of contentment. It feels so good like this and you feel woozy, too. Sluggish, ready to be taken, on your way to cloud nine. You nod your head for the last time and squirt the lube all over him and Vinny’s intimate parts, your desire to take over him blending into your fuzzy feelings. 

With your help, he slides inside her, both pairs of eyes watching the slick intrusion, then meeting at once—your simultaneous groans of delight merging, fading into one another, creating one beautiful, heavenly sound, unheard by all angels and celestial beings. You hold the fleshlight steady as he bottoms out, his mouth parted, brows furrowed, eyes so heavy-lidded as he devours your gaze, your face, the pleasure he feels so overwhelming that you almost think he can’t take it. The flexing of his abdominal muscles, the roll of his hips that takes all of his strength while his arms remain restrained behind his back, his neck shiny with a layer of sweat—fuck, the sight is to die for and you melt into something boneless, jelly and gooey; becoming just a hole for him.

You can’t wait for him to fuck you. Perhaps it’s you, after all, who can’t take it. 

Jungkook begins to pound her, his mound hitting her clit with every hard motion and it strikes your awe. Your breathing quickens, the drum in your own bundle of nerves unwaveringly unbearable and what’s worse, he keeps fucking looking at you, perhaps imagining it’s your pussy that he’s ruining and your legs tremble, threatening to give out—

“Rub your pussy on the other end, please,” he begs, vocal cords so awfully strained, and this time you decide to gratify him. 

The first moan that your mouth emits makes him fuck the toy harder—so much that it slips out of your grasp. You prop your knee on the armrest, flattening Vinny’s face on the edge of the toy, so you can gain the friction you so desperately need and it works. Your cunt soaks her sleepy countenance and you flick your eyes to it, watching the fur get darker with each rock of your hips.

“Look at me,” he grunts—and you do. A hint of softness in the dark sea of his eyes, boisterous waves of arousal sloshing to and fro. “Use her like I am. Hard—” He shows you how by a stroke that reverberates through your body, stimulating your clit by bumping into it. “And then fast.” Quick thrusts that waggle with your form, your curls bouncing against your spine. 

And so you match his rhythm. It stimulates you far more than the pace you had going for yourself, your orgasm enclosing around you, inching closer and closer with each graze of your clit against the now more firm plush fur. Your brows knit, the coil in your stomach tightening to the point that it’s you who ultimately takes over and Jungkook follows, matching your rhythm, fucking Vinny faster—the silicone squeaking with each deep plunge of his length into her hole that causes your tits to slap against each other. But Jungkook doesn’t look at them. No, his eyes are set on you and you know that he knows that you’re about to come. 

Jungkook begins to pant, marked chest flushing, adorning him most finely. The knowledge is getting him there, too. “You close, baby?” 

You moan, sucking in a breath. “So close, I’m gonna come.” 

He moans with you, approving of it. “Come, then, I wanna watch you. Make her nice and wet for me, hm?” You rock your hips faster—closer and closer, gripping Vinny with all your might. “I wanna touch you so bad, princess. Kiss you everywhere. Lick that little clit. Fuck you until all that you know is my fucking name. Please—”

You come so hard that it takes both you and Jungkook by surprise, your body violently shuddering and colliding into his. He groans, deeply, following in suit, your orgasm triggering his and he sloppily fucks the toy while he watches you ride out your high, bliss enveloping you in angelic glow. 

“Yes, princess, just like that, fuck. You’re so pretty. My pretty little girl, coming so hard. Yes, fuck.” He’s losing himself, moaning your name over and over until there’s nothing left to give to Vinny, until he’s so spent that he sits back on his feet, eyes closing and opening, tongue licking his dry lips. He moans your name again, in post-high. “Please, get the belt—”

You don’t hesitate. With blurry vision and sex hormones swirling in your brain, numb by your intense orgasm, you edge around him and rid him of his restraint, flinging it somewhere away from the both of you, hating it, not wanting to see it again. 

You and Jungkook exchange a look full of soft smiles and love, with his joy like a cherry on top of that. He twists his wrists, standing up to his feet, the size difference and the sudden change in energy causing him to grow solemn. No smiles, though the love remains. You feel it thumping in the atmosphere you’re surrounded by as he completely overpowers you, naturally. And you welcome it, needing it—needing to be dominated and fucked until you’re brainless. 

“I love watching you come,” Jungkook murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and cradling the side of your face. “It’s all I want to see for the rest of my life. Every morning when I wake up and every night before I go to sleep. It’s everything to me.” 

It moves through you, his words, almost painfully with their vigor and passion, passing down your body until they settle in your core. You drip for him. Still feel so terribly lightheaded and high. “Just that, huh?” 

“And your snores.” 

You punch his arm. Jungkook laughs and gathers your hair, pulling it away from your face, stroking it down your back. A grin of your own curls your mouth. You don’t snore, at all. And you tell him. 

“You do when you’re tired.” You gasp, lifting your hand again but he catches it in time, intertwining your fingers with his. “You did such a good job today. You learn well from me. Sounded just like me. Made me proud.” He strokes your hair again and you lean into his touch, even though you don’t believe him. You could’ve done a lot better and it could’ve ended just like you planned—fucking him with that fleshlight. You guess you can save that for another time. 

You shake your head. “I messed up.” 

“But you didn’t.” He angles his head, inching closer so the gravity of his words can pierce your mind, but it does no such thing. You still have one of your own. Solid as a rock. 

“No, I shouldn’t have forgotten the lube. It ruined everything.” 

Jungkook sighs, drawing back, fondling the back of your hand before he lets go of it and clutches the nape of your neck. “Sex isn’t meant to be perfect. You didn’t ruin anything, why do you think that?” He looks at you for a long time, but you can’t take it—you drop your gaze, still feeling terrible. He calls you by your name, firmly. “Who made you think sex is meant to be perfect, huh? Bring them to me.” 

You laugh, softly, at the ridiculousness of his question. It’s him who owns your virginity—you’ve never been with anyone else before him. It’s your own expectations that make you think that. “Right here.” You point to your brain. 

Jungkook kisses your forehead. Lingers there, giving you a million tiny pecks, as if erasing everything from there that he doesn’t like. It touches you, deeply, and you can’t stop yourself from submitting to it as it melts your brain. Your mouth rounds in a pout, your bottom lip jutting out and when he gazes down upon you and sees it, he coos at you, kissing it. “I made a mistake, too, didn’t I?” You remain silent—still think he didn’t do anything wrong. “But it was still amazing and we came together, didn’t we?” 

He’s right; you’ll give him that. “You really liked it?” 

He pecks you, vehemently, on the lips and then points to the fleshlight behind him in all its glory, dripping with cum. So much fucking cum that it makes a puddle on the hardwood floor. “Do you think I would’ve cummed this much if I didn’t? Tell me, baby.” 

You swear, unable to take your eyes off of the quantity of his male essence. It draws you in, magnetically, and you obey its call, lifting the fleshlight with your hands, turning around so Jungkook sees and darting out your tongue—

“Don’t.” 

You swipe the muscle across the silicone hole, collecting his ivory arousal. Most of it trickles down your neck and bare chest and it’s Jungkook now who swears, loudly. Grabs you by your waist and, flinging the toy away, he kisses you. You didn’t even have the time to swallow. He’s tasting himself on your tongue and it causes you to moan into his mouth. He taps the back of your thighs and you jump, wrapping your legs around his torso. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but at this point you give zero fucks. 

His tender bedding grazes your back when he lays you down on it with a harsh thud, breaking the kiss and taking your breath away. Bottom lip between his teeth, he studies your soiled body with his cum, kneeling on the bed by your form. He takes his first two fingers and collects his evidence of pleasure, flicking his eyes to yours. You meet him halfway, expecting him to plunge those digits in your mouth and you’re ecstatic, wanting it badly, but Jungkook pushes you down. 

In fact, he turns you around—ass up, face down. With just one hand. 

You swear, your arousal gaining new intensity. And it’s your needy hole that he plunges his fingers in, briefly stuffing you with his cum, placing his free hand on your lower back so you can arch your spine for him more. Then, he rubs your clit in hard, slow circles, making you cry out, making your legs tremble all over again—

A spank. A brassy, cacophonous spank that drives you forward, forcing you to grip onto the sheets. 

“I told you not to do that, didn’t I?” Jungkook rasps. Doesn’t alleviate the burn. “Answer me.” 

Fuck. “Yeah, you told me not to do that.” 

You brace yourself for another spank, but it doesn’t come. You feel his lips by your ear, his body heat cocooning you as he bends over you, his fists, pitifully, on either side of your back. 

“You’re such a filthy little girl. Licking my cum off like that? Making me hard all over again for you?” he tsks, the sound making you even needier. For him, for his cock, even for another spank. You grind your ass against his hip and he maneuvers so his cock slips between your cheeks. Swears, such guttural noise that you mewl in response. “You just do what you want, huh? I guess you don’t love your Daddy anymore.” 

He spanks you again, harder than before, and your vowel of disagreement breaks at the concoction of pain and pleasure coursing through your body. “No—no, I love you.” 

Another spank. Lips by your ear again, his body clinging to your side. “You love me?” He clamps your mouth shut, preventing you from answering. 

You do, anyways, your words muffled. “I love you. I love you so much.” 

Jungkook hums in question. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you.” He digs his fingers harder into your cheek, other hand rounding around your hip and attacking you with bolts of pleasure that make you quiver against him—rubbing your clit rapidly before he sinks his fingers inside you… and merely keeps them there. 

You move his hand away and he lets you, holding it, panting. “I love you so much.” 

Jungkook groans, sinking his fingers deeper. “Who do you love, hm?” 

He wants you to say his rightful title and you do, with all your heart. “You, Daddy. I love you.” 

At your words, Jungkook begins to pump his fingers and you cry out, placing your head on his palm, taking it. “Such a good fucking girl, making me crazy—” He growls, pressing a fat kiss on your cheek, curling his fingers slowly into that place that causes your breath to hitch in your throat, your orgasm quick to catch up to you. “Good little girl that loves her Daddy, fuck. I’m gonna give you everything. Gonna eat that little pussy, hm? You want that? Want Daddy to make you come with his tongue?” 

You squeak when he gives you one particular, hard stroke against your special place, mind numbing, a dam broken. “Yes, yes, please, Daddy, please—”

He draws away, instantly. Traces your back with his palms as he straightens, smearing your feminine essence all over your skin that he licks up. And then, his mouth—

Jungkook takes you in his mouth. All of you. Licking against your clit, sucking it, rubbing his face in your cunt and groaning against her. His hands squeeze your ass, painting it redder and he flicks your little bundle of nerves with his tongue until he senses your orgasm. Then, he pulls away for a second, stalling it. Thumbs your other, puckered hole. 

“My pretty little pussy. All mine.”

Mewling, you shake your ass for him and he growls, cursing, spanking your cheek, taking the flesh in his hand and squeezing it. Again and again, until you feel yourself drip, until you feel him spread your legs wider and nudge himself between them, opening his mouth for it to trickle down upon his tongue. 

“Sit up. Ride my face.” 

You moan before you even obey, sitting down on his tongue and grinding your pussy on it. He rolls it against you, back and forth, following your rhythm. Slow and romantic, kissing your clit every once in a while, sucking it as you keep up your movement, inching dangerously close to your orgasm. He’s in absolute control of you, though. Of your pleasure and climax, stalling it before beckoning it forth again. You lose yourself in it, in the profound and all consuming delight toying with all your nerve endings, creating something within you that diffuses you with confidence and allure, that inclines you to ride him harder, whimper a little louder and knead your breast until you leave your handprint in your wake. 

He lets you do your thing, but as you saw earlier today, there’s only so much that he can take. 

Clasping your hips, he angles them until your hole is at level with his nimble tongue, guiding you to lean back and use his chest to hold yourself steady. And like his fingers, he fucks you with the muscle, curling it each time. The filthy noise of your slick and his saliva, his breaths and hums, your obscene moans and then his thumb rubbing your clit rapidly—it’s enough, with his evident permission, for you to come. 

And you come so hard that you sprinkle his face with your dew. 

He laughs in utter joy, humming—humming deeply and you’re so obsessed with that sound that you come again, shuddering violently and he spanks you, holds you by your waist, digging in his fingerprints, allowing you to ride out your high, to use him until you’re so boneless that you slump against him. 

Jungkook drags you down, though, slipping, instantly, his cock inside of you. And it’s wild, wild butterflies that you feel in your gut owing to it, then pain so acute that you whine. Enveloping his arms around you, tightly, with no way of escaping, his wet face is so tender that you coo at him amidst the rush of your colorful feelings. Wipe away your dew, giggling, kissing him loudly as his cock adjusts in you and the bite from overstimulation withers little by little.

“You can take it, I know you can,” Jungkook whispers, beaming up at you, iridescent. “You feel so good around me. So tight. I love being inside of you.” 

Slowly, he begins to move, causing your features to scrunch up. In discomfort at first, then in relish as your stiffened nipples rub against the hardness of his chest. 

“You’re my good little girl. You take everything I give you so well. So well.” Jungkook picks up his pace, gathering your hair in his fist. Doesn’t pull on it; merely holds it. You whimper, his words loosening the overbearing tightness of your walls. “I’m gonna take care of you. You’re just my little baby. Mine—” A hard thrust. Your eyes roll back. “My baby.” 

“Yes, I’m yours,” you croak out and Jungkook takes your face in his hands and pounds into you until all you see is stars. Pretty, pretty twinkling stars. 

Slapping skin, his grunts—you don’t even see your orgasm coming, coming over you so violently and yet in such an exhilarating way. Your dew forces him out, forces his chuckles out again and he brings you back to him, kissing you, plunging his cock back with ease. 

You’re so lightheaded that you feel like an angel, soaring in the sky. An angel that years for something more. And you tell him. “Jungkook, please, I want the vibrator.” 

He merely smiles at you, arm reaching over and pulling out the toy for you from his bedside table. Turning it on, you’re radiated by the light in his eyes and you whimper in impatience. Jungkook shushes you, like a baby, clicking on the intensity until he’s satisfied, placing it on your clit. 

And then he gets up. 

Pushes you against his closet, back against the wood, legs around his waist, vibrator on your clit and his hand clasped around your mouth, preventing your loud moans from escaping while letting you know how much he loves being in charge. Giving you hard strokes that secure him your soul on a silver platter before he fucks you so fast that you can’t see anything. Your surroundings are a blur while his face remains clear, painted in tortured pleasure for you as if he were holding himself back. 

“Come for me, Daddy,” you beg under his palm, your sound muffled, but it seems that Jungkook understands you. 

Pulling away, he turns you around and gets into position again. One hand around your mouth, the other holding the toy on your clit, his dick inside. He begins to play with you, not moving his hips at all, only the vibrator. Panting against the crook of your neck, he takes a second to merely breathe with you while you’re on the pathway to another mind blowing orgasm because he turns up the intensity. “How about you come for Daddy first, hm? I know you don’t need me to move when we do this. You can come just like this. So come.” 

And you do, embarrassingly, whining all over the place, twisting your hips to chase your pleasure, causing him to emit the same sounds—causing him to pound you so hard against his closet that he, too, comes in mere minutes. His fingers in your mouth, he’s loud and just as whiny as you, fucking you through his orgasm as you play with digits, sucking on them. 

He doesn’t pull away for a long time. Presses you against his chest and holds you like that, still connected. The vibrator buzzes on the floor, the air is stuffed, but you’re content, the happiest angel, held and stuffed, too. With cum and dick. Heaven on earth. 

Jungkook begins to kiss your neck, marking you there. Fondles your nipples, making you shudder and sigh, making you utter the three words that he deserves. 

“I love you, Ggukie.” 

Jungkook makes a sound that tears you apart. A whimper; the whiniest you ever heard him be. He pulls out of you, but stuffs you again with his fingers. Makes you squirt in record time, kissing you everywhere he can reach. Neck, shoulder, jaw, cheek and lips. 

You must be soaring again in the clouds because you can’t feel your body, especially not when Jungkook says, “I love you, my little squirter.” 

Your knees do give out, after all. Jungkook is quick to pick you up and cradle you in his arms. Wash you clean in the shower. Put on a movie for you while making you food, joining you as soon as he can. 

It’s love you feel—love most profound. And as you eat the food together and finish the wine with drenched Vinny on the other side of the couch, you fall asleep with that love thrumming in your heart. 

You’ll be his for the rest of your life. And he’ll be yours, too. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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