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atlabeth · 3 months

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a rose and her thorns | luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!daughter of aphrodite reader

summary: luke vies for a valentine. you're just trying to get through cabin inspections.

a/n: take this as my formal apology for the angst i’ve been throwing at you all with demeter girl lol and take this tooth rotting fluff. this was supposed to be shorter but i got carried away, after writing that 11k angst riddled monster this was a much needed palate cleanser lmao

wc: 3.3k

warning(s): no warnings this is all fluff <3

You huffed as you knocked on the door again, chewing on the inside of your lip as you waited for a response. The Hermes cabin usually always had kids in it—either they were ignoring you, or they were just causing too much ruckus to even hear it in the first place.

Honestly, you should have known this was how cabin inspections with Luke would go. He was probably in there right now, ushering all of them through rapid last-minute tidying in the hopes of something higher than a one. You had half a mind to knock a point off right now by virtue of tardiness.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up all of a sudden, and you whirled around.

“Speak of the devil,” you said wryly.

You were greeted with Luke Castellan himself, his hands up with a slight smile on his lips. “Easy. I didn’t think I looked that bad.”

Your brows creased ever so slightly, and he gestured with head. You looked down and realized you were holding your pen like a sword. You cleared your throat and let your arm drop, adjusting your shirt on the way down.

“Sorry. People tend not to sneak up on me.”

“I can’t imagine why.” Luke put his hands down and started towards his cabin, craning his head back at you. “What brings you here on this fine day, Rose?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot,” you pouted, holding up your clipboard and pen as you followed him. “We’re on inspection duty together. Where were you?”

He snapped and pointed at you. “That’s what we were doing together today! I knew we were spending time together—not like I could forget that—but,” his hand paused on the doorknob, “I kind of forgot about the cabin inspection part. Had to spend a little extra time with one of your siblings at the end of sword-fighting lessons.”

“Sounds like Liz is getting better, then.” A smug smile pulled at your lips as you stopped next to him. “And it sounds like someone’s gonna be cleaning the dishes tonight,” you said in a sing-song voice.

You placed your hand over his and opened the door, and Luke groaned. “Take mercy, Rose. Please.”

It was certainly a sight—more akin to a tornado than the inside of a cabin. Various kids—Hermes, unclaimed, and minor gods alike—ran around, shoving dirty clothes beneath beds, cramming duffles and suitcases into overflowing closets, with a few noble exceptions attempting the Sisyphean task of actually cleaning.

“Wow,” you said, glancing down at the papyrus scroll. “Can I give you a zero?”

“Listen,” Luke said from behind you, “our thing isn’t tidiness. It’s thievery—swiftness, cunning, panache.”

“I thought you were supposed to be jacks of all trades,” you mused as you checked off boxes. “Cleaning is a trade.”

“Not here.” You could feel him peering over your shoulder and he groaned yet again. “Come on! You’re grading us way too low. I get input too, remember?”

“Sure,” you remarked. You held out the clipboard and gestured with your head at the natural disaster in front of you. “But you can’t tell me this is anything better than a two.”

“A two’s better than a one.” Luke plucked the pen out of your hand and scrawled out a number two on the final line.

“Luke—” you started in protest, but he just snatched the clipboard as well with a wink as he started walking backwards towards the door.

“We’ve got a chance, guys!” he called out. “Hephaestus has gotta be worse than this!”

You huffed as you chased after him, shutting the door on your way, and you crossed your arms as you came to a stop in front of him. “This isn’t very cooperative of you.”

“Gotta give myself a chance,” Luke said, smiling as he took the Hermes sheet off the clipboard and stuffed it into his pocket.

“That’s just cheating,” you said, and he let you take the clipboard back from him. You started walking, and he fell into pace with you. “Hephaestus is next—we’ll see how much of a chance you have.”

“We should get some slack because we’ve got double the campers,” Luke said. “Nine’s got no excuse—they’re just a bunch of messy engineers.”

You tapped your pen against the board. “I’m not changing my mind, Castellan.”

“Ouch,” he winced. “I got last name’d.”

You merely smiled and shook your head. You could see his own smile in your peripherals, then he huffed.

“You’re distracting me from my whole plan with these ridiculous grades,” Luke sighed. “I haven’t ruined everything, have I?”

“You’ve got a plan?” you asked in amusement.

“Of course I do.” Luke took a few long strides to get in front of you then turned around so he was walking backwards, that stupid smirk still on his lips as he kept eye contact with you. “Valentine’s Day is coming up.”

“You’re very observant,” you said. “Watch your six.”

Luke moved a step towards you to avoid a younger camper with their head buried in a book, and you chuckled as he shrugged.

“It’s a work in progress,” he admitted.

You hummed, biting back your smile as you came up to the Hephaestus cabin. You were about to knock on the door, but once again, Luke caught your wrist.

“You’re not even gonna let me say my piece?” he asked.

“I’ll give you a little time to polish it up,” you said.

“You assume I don’t have it prepared already?”

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” You winked. “But I know the effect I have on you.”

Luke’s fingers loosened on your wrist and you allowed a small, self-satisfied smile as you pulled free and knocked on the door. It took a couple seconds, but eventually the door opened and their counselor—Alya, if you remembered correctly—greeted you with a smile.

“Just in time,” she said, smudging the bit of grease on her face as she wiped at her cheek. “We’re actually not horrible today.”

Luke grumbled beneath his breath as you walked in together—usually, the place was a mess of loose parts and hastily sketched out plans and smoke-scented clothes. Today, it was still a mess, but slightly less so.

“Damn it,” Luke muttered. “Still not as bad as us.”

“Stop comparing your place to everyone else,” you said. “This is supposed to be fun.”

“Cabin inspections are fun?” he asked wryly.

“Hanging out with me is fun,” you clarified. “I—”

You were cut off with a gasp of your own as you slipped, and before you could even fully process it you were falling. It wasn’t until everything steadied that you realized someone had caught you, strong arms cradled you around your waist. You looked up to see Luke’s wide eyes.

“You good?” he asked, his voice slightly higher than usual.

“Yeah,” you said, nodding far too many times, “yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“...Good,” he said, ever eloquent.

A small smile creeped in. “You can let me go now.”

It almost took him a moment to come back to Earth, because he blinked before he nodded, smiling on his own as he helped you back up. You could feel the heat in your face and tried your best to ignore it as you looked down. A small pool of oil was the culprit—you grimaced at the thought of having to clean that out of your jeans. Thank the gods for Luke.

“That’s gotta be points off,” Luke whispered in your ear, still close by, and you stifled a laugh. “Oil on the floor, making pretty counselors slip. Right?”

You ignored him too, looking over at Alya, though you couldn’t stop your smile. She looked mortified.

“I am so sorry,” she rushed. “I guess Michael didn’t clean as well as he said.”

“No problem,” you said. “I’ve got a little guardian angel. But this place isn’t too great.”

“Damn,” she mumbled. “I even got one of your sisters to come in and help clean things up. Do you not smell the perfume?”

“The smoke kinda overpowers it,” you said sympathetically, and she sighed. “Three out of five, Alya. But you’re right on the edge of a four.”

Alya glanced at Luke. “Better than Hermes?”

Luke grimaced. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

She smiled and went off to talk to one of her siblings. Luke shook his head and tutted once she was gone. “The double standards here are ridiculous, Rose. I might have to report you to Chiron.”

“Oh, quiet.” You hit him in the side lightly with the clipboard and continued scanning the room for a final check. “If you wanted help with cleaning up from an Aphrodite kid, all you had to do was ask.”

“And would you have accepted?” he asked.

“Of course,” you said as you scribbled down your last couple of notes. “I’ll always help you, Luke.”

He went silent as you continued to write, and when you finished you saw he was only looking at you.

You frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” Luke said, still smiling. “Let’s keep going.”

You stared at him for a moment, but he didn’t say anything else. So you just laughed a bit and shrugged. Luke followed behind you as you walked out, and despite his claims of ‘nothing’ just a moment ago, soon enough he was talking again.

“So,” he said, “Valentine’s Day.”

“Valentine’s Day,” you said sagely. “What’s your plan?”

“Be my Valentine.”

“That’s your plan?” You glanced over at him. “Just asking me out straight-up?”

“Oh, sorry. I also have this.” Luke pulled something out of his back pocket and held it out. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“A rose?” you asked with a lopsided smile.

“Not just any rose,” he said as you took it. “A chocolate rose.”

“You are so cute.” You pulled the wrapper off, and though the stem and leaves were plastic, the flower was, indeed, very much chocolate, and in the shape of a rather pretty rose.

Luke shrugged. “Figured you needed something as sweet as you.”

“I’ve got a toothache just from being with you,” you remarked. You broke it in half with a bit of effort and offered it to Luke.

“You can’t just split the gifts I get for you with me.”

“They’re my gifts,” you said. “I can do whatever I want with them.”

“Really?” he asked.

“What’s a rose without her thorns?” you responded. Luke grinned as he took the other half from you. You popped yours into your mouth and your eyebrows rose.

“This is actually good chocolate,” you said as Luke ate his part. “Not like that crap we get at the camp store.”

“I might’ve snuck out to the city to get the good stuff,” Luke said offhandedly.

You looked at him incredulously. “What?”

“Did I stutter?”

“You risked all that trouble just to get some chocolate for me?” you marveled. “Hell from Chiron, extra chores for a month, literal monster attacks—”

Luke held up a hand, stopping your ranting. “Nothing happened. And even if it did,” he shrugged, “you’re worth it. So it doesn’t matter.”

You shook your head and Luke continued. “Besides, I got some other stuff too for the rest of my plan.”

“Right,” you nodded, “you never finished telling me.”

“How’s your schedule?”

“Busy,” you said. “I’m an Aphrodite kid during Valentine’s season.”

Luke tipped his shoulder. “Fair. Think you can block something out for me?”

“That depends what it is,” you said.

“It’s a secret,” he said.

You stared at him. “A secret?”

He nodded. “It might be a foreign concept to you Aphrodite kids, but—”

You cut him off with a light shove and he only chuckled in response. “So you talk yourself up and it ends up being a secret.”

“I think I’ve earned some secret surprises,” Luke said. “I’m already sweeping you off your feet.”

You shook your head, smiling inwardly as you tapped your pen against the clipboard. “Is that how you see it?”

“Well, I did keep you from an untimely death back there,” he said. “And the more unfortunate plight of having to get oil stains out.”

“You read my mind,” you mused.

“And isn’t that worth a date?” Luke asked. “Saving you from a fashion faux pas?”

“You’re worth a date all on your own,” you said as you came up to the next cabin—Apollo was bright as ever, gleaming golden in the sunlight—and you looked at him with a smile. “No rescuing required.”

Your journey to the rest of the cabins went by relatively quickly, especially the Apollo and Ares cabins—you think Luke had been temporarily stunned into silence by you actually flirting back.

You’d had a subdued smile on your face nearly the entire time, even as you felt warmth bloom over your face again. Luke really brought out the inner Aphrodite in you—you were sure your mother was proud, wherever she was watching. What seemed to get Luke out of his addled state was the 5/5 you gave to your own cabin—he complained that the scent of perfume gave him a headache, and when you said you’d been wearing perfume the entire day, he claimed that it was different.

(Cabin Ten kept their full score. It was amazing what a pretty smile could do, especially when Luke was the victim.)

Finally, you were at the Demeter cabin. Luke insisted on going there last, so that all the expectations would be tapered—he was still trying to get a better score for his cabin, but the odds were looking pretty slim. The door was already open, and you smiled at the newly grown flowers outside the cabin.

“Nice touch.”

Luke sighed. “Great. Going out with a bang.”

“It’ll be fine, Luke,” you said. “I’ll help you clean your cabin tonight.”

He frowned. “You were actually serious?”

“Of course I was.” You tipped your head. “It’ll just have to be pretty late. Y’know, because you’ll be cleaning all the dishes.”

“Low blow,” he said, shaking his head. You chuckled as you stopped in the doorway and poked your head in.

“Hey, Katie,” you called to the counselor. “How’re things?”

“Good,” she said, nodding. A smile of her own bloomed on her lips as her gaze moved over to Luke. “I see Rose and her thorns are on duty today.”

“Flattery won’t help you with your score,” Luke mused as he walked into the cabin. You smiled as he held out his hand for the clipboard, and you finally acquiesced. You could feel Katie’s eyes on you as he walked further in.

“He takes that as a compliment?”

“Thorns protect a rose,” you said, still watching Luke. He played the part of a foreman well, investigating their shelves and walls with vigor and even opening drawers. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, and Luke looked back and smiled at you. You nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and he winked as he gave you a thumbs-up.

“And he protects you?” she asked.

You shrugged. “We protect each other.”

“…You would be cute together,” Katie admitted.

You managed to tear your eyes away from Luke, leaning back against the wall. “You think so?”

“He’s only been vying for your attention and flirting with you since the moment you got to camp,” she said wryly. “But you’re the expert on love—you tell me.”

You bit your lip as your gaze darted back to Luke, who was squatting on the floor having what looked to be a very serious conversation with a younger Demeter boy.

“I think I’m his valentine,” you said, almost absentmindedly. “And I think I’m really looking forward to whatever this date is.”

Katie came back into focus as you came back to Earth, and even she was smiling. “Then I think you’ve got your answer.”

Luke had picked the most opportune moment to come back, when you weren’t staring at him like an infatuated idiot—you were only one of those things—and he held out the clipboard and pen to you. “After having a very in-depth conversation with Damian about how things are going here, I scored them properly.”

You chuckled as you took it from him, but your eyebrows rose the more you read. “You’re kidding me.”

He shook his head. “There’s unpaid labor going on here—unpaid child labor. Damian said he’s responsible for half the cleaning and plants here.”

“We’re all children. All the labor we do is child labor,” you deadpanned. “And we’re sure as hell not getting paid.”

Luke held his hands up. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just delivering what he’s said.”

“Don’t tell me he gave us all ones,” Katie said dryly.

“You know him so well,” you mused. You scribbled out half of what Luke wrote as you stood up from the wall, shielding it with your body so he couldn’t see while you walked out together. “See you, Katie!”

Her protests fell on Luke’s deaf ears as he held up the rear, shutting the door behind you two, and when you looked back at him he was grinning.

“Straight ones,” he tutted, shaking his head. “What a shame. Looks like they’re gonna be cleaning the dishes tonight.”

“You know they got a five, Luke,” you said, finally allowing him to see your revised marks. “If you’re gonna fudge the numbers, at least try and make them believable.”

“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed. “A five is way too nice—it’s not fair that they can just grow plants all over and make everything look presentable. Using powers should count as cheating.”

“Their floors are clean, their beds are made, and it smells like floral heaven,” you said. You tapped his chest with your pen. “You could learn something from them, Castellan.”

He caught your wrist before you could move it away. “The Aphrodite cabin always gets perfect scores. Think you could teach me a few things?”

You grinned as you pulled your hand out of his grip and continued walking, this time en route to the Big House to drop off the final inspections. “That depends.”

“On what?” Luke came back into your peripherals as he caught up to you.

“On how good this secret plan of yours is,” you mused.

His eyes lit up, past worries of low inspection scores seemingly fading away in an instant. “So it’s a go? You’re in?”

“Of course I am,” you said, tucking the clipboard under your arm. “You got me the good chocolate, Luke. How could I not see where this goes?”

Previously unnoticed pressure dissolved in his shoulders as he took your hands in his. You could only focus on his eyes, on the warmth of his skin, on the callouses borne from years of sword-fighting.

He was surely blessed by your mother.

“You’re not gonna regret it,” Luke vowed. “All those promises I’ve made about blowing you off your feet, about making your mother proud—they’re all gonna be true.”

“You know what wise men say,” you said wryly.

“That they’re so glad you’re finally giving me a chance?”

“Only fools rush in,” you provided. “Going all in on our first date seems a little hasty.”

“Isn’t your whole thing supposed to be rushing in?” he asked cloyingly. “Y’know, daughter of love and all.”

You shrugged. “Maybe I like taking the idea of taking it slow with you.”

“Then call me a fool,” Luke mused, letting go of one hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His own curls hung over his eyes and you had the strongest urge to take his face in your hands. “Because you should know I can’t help it.”

You felt your cheeks heat as warmth spread all over, and you couldn’t even try to hide your smile. “You think you can take me out on one of those city trips of yours? Show me how to steal a camp van without getting in the most trouble?”

“I’m trying to steal your heart here,” Luke said with a goofy grin, “but I think a van’ll do.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” You took his hand back, intertwining your fingers together as you pulled him closer to you. “We can multitask.”

#luke when he’s so smooth and then she actually flirts back and he system reboots #posting this and running before i go to sleep bc i can only write in the middle of the night #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fluff #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #sadie writes

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steddiealltheway · 5 months

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Steve glances down at his watch and looks around at the kids anxiously awaiting Eddie's arrival. He's five minutes late. In any other situation, this wouldn't be a lot, but considering that Eddie makes it a point to be either on time or (most likely) early to anything involving D&D with the party... it's highly concerning.

Steve glances at his watch again just to give himself something to do when Dustin finally bursts out, "Okay! This has to be a prank, right? Like someone has to be in on this."

Steve glances at all the other kids staring blankly at Dustin and finally decides to take matters into his own hands. "I don't think that's what's going on, Henderson, but thanks for the input. You guys stay here, and I'll go check on his place."

"I'm coming with you," Dustin states firmly.

Steve furrows his brows. "No, you're staying because if Eddie gets here and you're gone then that just means more waiting." When Dustin crosses his arms and continues staring, Steve sighs, digs his wallet out of his pocket, and hands Dustin a few bills. "Order a pizza and hang out for a bit or something. Walkie me if he gets here."

Dustin smiles brightly and takes the money immediately rushing off to Mike who is already on the phone calling the pizza place. Steve puts his hands on his hips and asks, "And what do you say?"

"Thanks, Mom," Mike says flatly, raising his eyebrows and looking entirely unimpressed.

"Thank you!" Lucas says as Will smiles and gives him a quiet, "Thank you, Steve."

Steve waits for Dustin who rolls his eyes and says, "Thank you. Now check on Eddie." Steve raises his eyebrows. Dustin sighs, "Please."

"You guys are going to be the death of me," Steve says as he makes his way up the Wheeler's basement steps. He wishes Max and El were there to have his back, but they had taken the chance to have a sleepover while the guys were too distracted to interfere with their girl time. He thinks calling Max to ask her to check on Eddie would also count as interfering.

It's not that Steve minds too much. Really, he rarely gets alone time with Eddie, and it's been a while since he's truly checked up on him. After the bats, Steve often went to his place and helped with wound care since he personally knew what he was going through. But as time went on and their injuries slowly turned into scars, it was harder to find excuses to see Eddie alone.

So, Steve settles for seeing him when the kids invite them both to something, and he's started to even hang around during their D&D sessions, soaking in all of Eddie that he can. He still refuses to play, too afraid of the kids making fun of him for getting confused, but he easily gets lost in the campaigns through Eddie's storytelling.

He thinks it's easy to get lost in anything Eddie's passionate about. It may go right over Steve's head, but he would do just about anything to listen to Eddie ramble - sometimes it might just be an excuse to stare at his lips, but no one (except Robin) needed to know that.

Steve nearly misses his turn while thinking a little too hard about Eddie's lips, but he makes it, turning into the trailer park and parking outside of Eddie's place fairly quickly. He sees Eddie's van in the driveway and takes a deep breath, hoping Eddie just somehow lost track of time or something.

Steve quickly rushes out of the car and knocks on the front door, waiting to hear Eddie's footsteps or grumbling as he makes it to the door.

But silence is the only thing coming from the other side.

Steve knocks harder, hoping the neighbors won't start snooping with all the noise he's making, especially when, a few seconds later, Steve decides he has waited long enough and pulls the door open. He quickly closes it and locks it on instinct as he calls out, "Eddie?"

The living room and kitchen are empty, but Steve doesn't hear the shower running, so he quickly bursts into Eddie's room calling out his name again.

His eyes fall on Eddie lying in bed with the covers tucked all around him, but his pale face is slightly visible through the dark strands of hair covering it. The last time Steve had seen him like this was in the upside down when...

"Eddie!" Steve says, rushing to the side of the bed and brushing the hair out of his face. He cups Eddie's face in his hands and nearly shakes him before he sees his brows twitch as he begins frowning.

"What..." Eddie groans out, eyes squinting open.

Steve breathes out a sigh of relief as he nearly tackles Eddie into a tight hug, ending up nearly on top of him.

"Good morning to you, too," Eddie jokes, squeezing Steve back. "Wait, what time is it?"

Steve pulls back and looks down at him. He runs a hand over his cheek, feeling the warmth of it against his palm, a reminder that he's okay. "It's past five, and it's Friday."

It takes a few moments before a look of realization crosses over Eddie's face, his eyes widening as he curses, "Shit! I couldn't sleep last night, and I decided to take a nap around... three? Maybe?" He shifts back on the bed and starts trying to sit up.

Steve places a hand on his chest and pushes him back down.

"Hello," Eddie says as a blush spreads across his face. "This is fun, but I have a dungeon to master," he jokes, showing off his dimples.

Steve nearly forgets how to breathe for a second, but he finally gets it together enough to say, "You and I both know how hard it is to sleep after everything, so if you're able to sleep now, then you're sleeping."

"I'm fine, re-" Eddie yawns and covers his mouth. "Really."

Steve raises his eyebrows at him.

Eddie sighs and turns on his side to directly face him. "Steve, the kids will kill me if I don't do this session tonight."

"And I'll kill them if they give you shit about it. Does tomorrow night work?"

"I mean, yeah, probably but-"

"Great," Steve interrupts as he stands up and grabs the walkie Eddie keeps on a designated shelf. "Hey, Dustin, this is Steve."

"Is it a code red? Over." Dustin immediately replies on the other side.

"No, everything is fine here. We just need to postpone until tomorrow night if that's fine with everyone."

"There is no postponing D&D!" Dustin screeches.

Steve sighs and replies, "If you complain again I'm giving you no rides or money for a month."

There's a long pause from the other side before there's a response, "Tomorrow works! See you then!" Lucas answers.

Steve looks back at Eddie and gestures toward the walkie. "See?"

Except, Eddie is already beginning to doze off again, head nodding and snapping up every few seconds.

Steve smiles and slowly makes his way back to the bed, gently guiding Eddie back down before tugging up the covers and leaning over to press a gentle kiss against Eddie's forehead. "Goodnight."

As Steve begins to move back, Eddie's hand latches onto his wrist. He stares up at him sleepily and asks, "Stay? You need the sleep, too."

And he's right. He absolutely does need the sleep, and there's no way he's going to turn down the offer from Eddie, but... "Eddie, you're half asleep, you don't know what you're asking."

Eddie looks him in the eye and says, "I know exactly what I'm asking, and if I read the signs wrong then sue me."

Steve's heart beats a little faster in his chest. "Eddie..."

"Let's talk about feelings and everything when we wake up, okay? If you don't want to stay, that's okay. But know that I would want you here no matter what."

Steve looks down at him for a few seconds before he turns to take off his shoes. When he turns back, Eddie is smiling and holding the blanket up.

Steve accepts the invitation and finds himself wrapping his arms around Eddie and pulling him against his chest. Steve gently runs a hand through Eddie's hair, only stopping when Eddie grabs his hand and presses a gentle kiss against it.

Steve responds by bending down and planting a kiss on Eddie's head. He smiles when Eddie happily hums.

As Steve focuses on Eddie's breathing evening out, he finds himself matching it and slowly starts drifting off, falling asleep easily for the first time in a long time with happy thoughts of what's to come when they finally wake up.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #stranger things

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grison-in-space · 5 months

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Listening to Artificial Condition again, it strikes me how much Murderbot uses empathy reflexively as a survival skill. Look at this bit.

Upon meeting it, ART allows it on board and then announces that it knows that Murderbot is rogue. Then ART threatens to destroy it if it hacks ART's own systems. Murderbot is immediately terrified and shuts down all inputs, gives serious thought to spending the entire three month journey unconscious, and then considers the potential avenues of damage from ART's drones. ART, not realizing why Murderbot had suddenly gone silent, tells it to quit sulking, which understandably pisses off the still-terrified Murderbot. It dumps a bunch of memories of coercive treatment into ART's feed, and ART goes silent.

Then this happens:

Then it said, I’m sorry I frightened you. Okay, well. If you think I trusted that apology, you don’t know Murderbot. Most likely it was playing a game with me. I said, “I don’t want anything from you. I just want to ride to your next destination.” I’d explained that earlier, before it opened the hatch for me, but it was worth repeating. I felt it withdraw back behind its wall. I waited, and let my circulatory system purge the fear-generated chemicals. More time crawled by, and I started to get bored. Sitting here like this was too much like waiting in a cubicle after I’d been activated, waiting for the new clients to take delivery, for the next boring contract. If it was going to destroy me, at least I could get some media in before that happened. I started the new show again, but I was still too upset to enjoy it, so I stopped it and started rewatching an old episode of Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon. After three episodes, I was calmer and reluctantly beginning to see the transport’s perspective. A SecUnit could cause it a lot of internal damage if it wasn’t careful, and rogue SecUnits were not exactly known for lying low and avoiding trouble. I hadn’t hurt the last transport I had taken a ride on, but it didn’t know that. I didn’t understand why it had let me aboard, if it really didn’t want to hurt me. I wouldn’t have trusted me, if I was a transport. Maybe it was like me, and it had taken an opportunity because it was there, not because it knew what it wanted.

The thing about Murderbot's survival is that it clearly involves quite a bit of negotiating with other constructs and bots. That's how it talks its way onto cargo hauler bots in the first place. It uses empathy--envisioning the emotional and cognitive context of the individuals it encounters--to work out what different kinds of people want, so that it can offer them fair trades. It also uses empathy to consider what humans might be looking for, so it can practice blending in and hide.

Murderbot would never have survived so long if it wasn't capable of assessing the individual desires of the people--human, bot, and construct--around it. It thinks about ART's probable fears and motivations so that it can consider whether ART is inherently an ongoing threat or a potential ally.

When your survival depends on evading detection, you get really good at assessing perceptual biases so that you can shape yourself to fit into them. People talk about murderbot being radically empathetic as a choice it makes, or as a feature of its personality that makes it a good person. But I think murderbot would be the the first person to tell you that this empathy is part of its threat assessment suite, a skill that was developed out of necessity in order to allow you to survive.

It is also a trait that makes murderbot a good person, of course: it chooses very carefully to try to survive by doing as little harm as possible and by offering things, like media, that buy it access to things it needs. But it started as a survival skill. It's part of hypervigilance.

I think one of the strengths of this series is that so many of the things we love about SecUnit are traits developed for survival in an inherently threatening world. The shape of its mind and heart have been changed by the trauma of its origin--but they don't make murderbot less good for being altered, even if that skill was developed in a traumatic context.

I like that.

#murderbot #empathy as a tool #note that this is not necessarily natural empathy #it's cognitive and only happens when the adrenaline eases off #going to work my way though the existing published series before I dig into my brand new copy of the new one

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idlesana · 4 months

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can i request a sana drabble!?

phone sex w r, when sana is too insatiable while away from r, and has to get herself off ;( gp btw!

gotchu, great prompt btw, and happy new year! this is a special for everyone before i go back to working on my long-fics

one call

gp minatozaki sana x female reader ; smut

summary: sana always has you for her needs, so what does she do when she doesn’t have you there?

sana wasn’t sana if not carrying herself with an insatiable libido.

it wasn’t her fault she was overflowing in lust, and it wasn’t like you’d complain, obviously. she just was how she was, and how she is, is needy, whether it’s total PG attention and pda, or, something more graphic.

and drunk sana wasn’t drunk sana if her horniess wasn’t multiplied by tenfold.

being a clingy kissy drunk was sure to cause her to become absolutely incurable when it became just the two of you, all twice functions ending with her keeping you up all night.

and this would’ve, been one of those occasions, if only her and the rest of j-line hadn’t had scheduling that kept her in japan over new year’s eve and day.

momo, luckily enough, had some connections to some parties local to the area, and sana almost gave in to fucking her (not like you’d mind— both you and sana had talked about your subtle attractions to the older japanese girl) but she’d slipped out of the party early to go to bed. lame.

so here sana was, beyond intoxicated, a bulge growing in her pants, leaving her needier than ever, and without you.

she knew she had to handle it before she was too far gone into her lust or drunkenness, so, she found herself scurrying to the luxurious yet minute bathroom, leaving her with no room, cramped, and ridiculously horny.

she leaned against the cool marble counter of the sink, fishing her phone out with shaky hands, messily inputting her passcode and scrolling to your contact, immediately hitting call.

sana placed her phone between her jaw and shoulder, holding it upright as she unzipped her pants, the ringing hurting her head.

she only managed to shimmy her pants down, not getting to the underwear before she had to give her irrationally painful erection some attention, stroking herself through her boxers, breaths growing heavy.

she didn’t even notice the ringing stopped, only clocking it once you greeted her.

“hello..?” your voice sounded gravely, but pitch still high, just how she liked. sana bit back a moan, stroking herself a little quicker.

“h-hey, pretty.” she stuttered, tone laced with lust and voice just as low. her heavy breaths were panted out into the phone, and you quickly realized what this call was about.

“hey, sana. did you need something?” you pushed up on your bed, leaning back against the headboard and clenching your thighs shut. you were playing dumb, you and sana both knew that, but that’s the route you’d take whenever sana called you like this.

“ ‘just wanted to hear how your day went, is all.” sana whined, quitting her stroking only to push her boxers beneath her balls, lifting her shirt up with her free hand, and letting her hard cock hit her stomach.

“ahhh,” you paused, stretching, garnering a light, airy moan out of yourself, which successfully made sana twitch, “i see.”

she let her pointer finger rub against her leaking tip, not holding back from moaning softly, moving to rub her palm over herself, gathering the precum to lube herself up.

“i’m okay, today was okay. i had a shoot.” you sighed, dreamily thinking of what your girlfriend was doing to herself, desperately trying to ignore the pulsing of your own nether region.

“oh yeah?” she finally, finally, moves to stroke herself, instantly moaning at the feeling, rubbing her hand up and down her length. “what were you wearing?” she squeezes her tip softly, whimpering out.

“hmm, well, i had some different outfits.” you listen to the increase in the speed of her breathing, savoring in the small, pretty whines she lets out. “the first one was a pretty little slip, backless, with some cute shoes and diamond jewelry.”

sana rubs herself faster, giving a small hum for you to keep going.

“and then the next one was a skirt and this nice corset top, cropped obviously” you pause, letting out a soft moan of your own as you stretched out once more, smiling softly to yourself.

sana runs her hand up to her tip, squeezing it softly as she moans, “a-ah! please,” she runs her hand down her length again, continuing with her motions, “please keep talking, b-baby.” her voice is whiny and cute, just how you liked her, and you could almost hear how turned on she was.

“the other outfits weren’t too interesting, but, it’s okay, what mattered was going to the hot tubs after with nayeon and jihyo unnie.”

the thought of you in a swimsuit alone has sana nearly doubling over, soft “oh fuck.” dropping from her lips in a whine.

“i took some photos all throughout the day of myself, if you wanted to see.”

sana moves quick, taking the hem of her shirt to her mouth, holding it up, as she turns the phone on speaker and swipes to your text conversation.

“yes please.” she mutters through the fabric, slowing her stroking to go back to teasing her tip, running her thumb over it.

“mmm, okay, baby.” you move quick too, scrolling through and picking only the best photo for sana, wanting her to get the relief as soon as possible.

you smile as you find one of you in the swimsuit, a selfie from above of you looking up at the camera, doe eyed, and your whole body was in frame, cleavage on very obvious display. you select it and one other, a mirror selfie of the same pretty swimsuit, perfectly highlighting your features. you send them both over, waiting for sana’s response. and you get it soon after, sana groaning out, which turns into a shakey moan, as she starts up stroking herself again.

“f-fuck, wow, you look so— mgh, so good.” she’s stroking herself quicker that before, now imagining fucking you, pounding into you just how she wants. she swears she can almost feel you, absolutely soaking her length and clenching against her.

“god, y/n, i need you.” she finally drops the sweet act, back arching as she makes subtle thrusts into her hand as it falls back on her.

“i can tell, wish you were here.” you mumble, your own arousal getting to you now. “want you in me, always so big, filling me so well.”

sana shudders, staring at the images, trying her hardest not to let her eyes flutter shut. she imagines just how you’d stretch on her, just how you’d moan beneath her as she had her way with you.

“f-fuck, i’d fuck you so— shit, so, so good.” she feels herself losing it, so close to release, and she whines out, “god, you’re so pretty baby.”

you whine right back, and it gets sana stroking herself even quicker, her own pre-cum rolling down her length, veins defined and just so hard.

“want it so bad, sa-chan, would want you to fill me up, want all that load in me.”

and that’s what does it for sana, her hips stutter and she thrust into her hand, moaning shamelessly now, curses falling from her lips heavenly as you can only listen, so, so frustrated. she spills out all over her hand, whimpering softly to herself as she strokes herself into sensitivity, having to stop her movements.

“thank you,” sana pants, letting her shirt drop and moving to clean her hand, “i miss you.”

“of course, sana. you know i miss you too, even more so after that.” you groan, rolling on your bed, ignoring the aching wetness forming in your underwear.

“hey, hey, don’t be upset, maybe i can help you after my party?” she chuckles, and you’re quick to respond.

“oh. definitely.”

she was in for quite the night.

#sana x reader #minatozaki sana x reader #twice sana x reader #sana scenarios #sana smut #sana imagine #sana imagines #twice x reader #twice smut #twice imagine #twice imagines #twice sana smut #minatozaki sana smut #sana oneshot

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moonchildstyles · 5 months

Note

Ooooh I would love to see Prosecco h taking care of his pretty girl when she is sick :( and maybe she doesn’t tell him she’s sick but he finds out and is like 🥺

sooooo! I changed this just a little but I hope you still like it! thank you sm for requesting!!!!

wordcount: 7.5k

—————

(Y/N) smiled, listening back to the voicemail Harry left for her this morning.

Those small gifts had become her favorite thing to wake up to, eager to hear his voice and know that he was thinking of her even when he had been in a rush to get to the office. More often than not, she was greeted with a stream of consciousness message about all of the things he was doing or needed to get done before he could head out, along with tender declarations that he would talk to her soon, and that she was on his mind. It was never anything particularly grand or cloyingly romantic, but (Y/N) saved every single one of them. Hearing his voice was a part of her morning routine now, she couldn't go without.

Though she was just as in love with this recording as the others, there was a slight sticky quality to his voice this morning. It was extra thick, seemingly heavy on his tongue as if he had a stuffy nose. But, he didn't mention anything about feeling under the weather.

She would have to check up on him later, she decided. Send him a text or call him on his lunch to make sure it wasn't anything more than allergies or those cold symptoms that seemed to pop up in the morning before a cup of coffee could flush out his sinuses.

Once the voicemail ended, Harry finishing with a small "I love you", (Y/N) pulled the phone from her ear, scanning through the rest of the notifications she ignored in favor of hearing his voice. There was nothing more to read than a couple of flags reminding her the schedule she had input on her phone and some social media messages from the girls she was growing closer to from her classes.

Bypassing those minute messages, she pulled up Harry's contact thread. Typing out a message, she reveled in the soft cushioning of her bed with her boyfriend on her mind.

i just listened to ur voicemail🤍 i hope ur day gets less busy but I love u too soooo much

also it sounded like u were a little sick over the phone are u okay?:(

Starting her day slowly, (Y/N) took her time getting ready, checking her phone here and there in hopes of receiving a response from Harry. It wasn't until she had a cardigan draped over her shoulders and bag on her shoulder, walking out the door, that her phone vibrated.

Though she knew that Harry would scold her if he saw how distracted she was crossing the parking lot to her car, phone in hand, she didn't really care. Especially when it was his notification that she was enamored with.

H🤍 My day's already getting better since hearing from you, love. Would it be alright if I call you on my lunch? I miss you.

No, I'm not sick, just allergies. Thank you for checking on me🩷

Her heart bubbled in her chest as she climbed into her car, a bashful grin splitting her cheeks. She could hear his messages in his voice, lingering over the soft sentiment that he missed her. Before pulling out of the parking lot she made sure to let him know that she was more than okay with him giving her a call later, attaching multiple hearts and kisses to the text.

She hoped she made him smile like he did for her.

—————

Blindly reaching for her phone to cancel her alarm, (Y/N) barely cracked her eyes open when she brought the device to her face. The time blinked up top, an early class alarm having pulled her from her dreams. Thursdays were always the worst day of the week in her eyes; she had to wake up extra early, wait around on campus after her morning classes ended because the hour-long gap between her afternoon courses was too short to head home, and most of her deadlines were set for 11:59pm that night. She dreaded starting her day when it came to Thursdays.

Allowing herself a moment of reprieve, taking an extra long blink of her eyes, (Y/N) finally sat up with the motivating thought of seeing what Harry had left her in his voicemail.

Blinking the sleep from her gaze, she swiped through her phone with sleep-shaky fingers. She absently pulled up her call log, expecting to see a missed call from Harry, attached with a voicemail to start her day with.

When there was no red bubble denoting a notification or a text message informing her of a missed voicemail, (Y/N) blinked extra hard in hopes of clearing her vision. When she recovered, coming to her senses more and more, there was still nothing to be seen.

Harry hadn't called her.

A pout formed on her lips. He never missed calling her in the morning. Since this had become a regular thing, there was never a morning Harry missed greeting her, starting both of their days off with a sweet message. She hoped he was alright.

Pulling up his text thread, she typed out a quick message.

good morning honey ! are you doing okay? i didn't get a voicemail from u so I wanted to make sure !! miss and love u so much call me when you can:)))))

When the receipts didn't quickly change to read, she took in a sigh. While it wasn't like him, there was a possibility that he woke up too late in the morning to give her a call like usual and didn't have time. There was always the chance that he had taken a late night hours before, working hard and allowing him to lie in this morning.

(Y/N) was willing to convince herself of either scenario, pushing her imagination along with the terrible ideas sprouting. She just hoped he was okay.

—————

Sitting in the quad, breathing in the first airs of autumn with her headphones covering her ears, (Y/N) didn't rush away from her textbook when she felt her phone vibrate. Finishing off her notes, she waited a moment longer, rereading what she had transcribed before plucking up her phone. The name on her notification had her heart skipping a beat

H🤍

Sorry, sweetheart. I woke up late this morning, and have been rushing around the offie all day. I didn't mean to ignore you, I'm so so sorry. Maybe I can call you tonight, on my way home? Love you so much.

Her lashes fluttered as she blinked, reading over his message. Honestly, a chunk of worry she hadn't realized she had been holding onto evaporated. The reassurance that he was okay, and none of the haywire scenarios that she had forced to the back of her mind had even been a little true, was freeing. He was just having a Thursday, just like she was.

don't be sorry im just happy youre okay!!! im sorry youre having a rough day:( is there anything i can do to help?????

yes yes please call me later:( I miss you:(

love you moooooooore :)

The time between the moment she had sent off her last message to the receipts flipping from delivered to read was almost instantaneous. The three grey dots popped up on the side of her screen just after.

H🤍

You don't need to do anything for me, sweetheart, you're already helping. My afternoon is going to be busy, but I should be out of here around the normal time so I'll call you around then. I miss you too.

It didn't feel right not to call you this morning, but I didn't have time. I think it threw me off.

Love you most:)

Laying back on the grass, music still fluttering through her speakers, (Y/N) smiled up at her phone as she held it over her face. It was always especially cute when he would add little emoticons or emojis to his messages.

i missed hearing u this morning too but its okay !!!! don't stress urself out too much this afternoon though just call me when you can 🩷🩷🩷🩷

i have to get to class now but ill talk to you later :))))

Harry's response came in the form of a string of hearts being sent her way, the messages making her smile before she pocketed her phone. Now that the anxious urgency she had before was now melted away, she took her time gathering her things and heading towards her next class.

Everything was turning up, she decided. Thursday was almost over, Harry was okay, and she now could look forward to a phone call from him this evening.

All she had to do was get through this final class.

—————

"Hi, honey," (Y/N) smiled, pressing her phone to her ear as soon as she saw the call blinking across the screen.

On the other line, there was a slight rustle. "Hi, love," Harry finally murmured, his breath coming out heavy, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," she sang, closing her laptop lid in favor of focusing on Harry, "Just waiting for you. Did you just get home?"

"Yeah," he sighed once more, "Been a long day. Sorry to keep you waiting."

(Y/N) shook her head even though she was well aware of the fact he couldn't see her. "Don't be sorry, H, stop. I'm sorry you had a bad day, what happened?"

Before he could answer, a rattling cough was heard over the receiver. Harry seemingly pulled the phone away from himself, the sound growing more distant before he returned a beat later. "Sorry, I jus—"

"Are you getting sick?" She didn't quite believe his explanation of allergies anymore.

"No, love," Harry muttered, his voice suddenly sounding thicker than (Y/N) remembered, a sniffle of his nose sounding a moment later. "I've jus' had a long day is all. 'M a little run down."

That didn't ease her any. (Y/N)'s lips thinned, a pinch appearing in between her brows. "It's okay if you're getting sick, H. I'm worried you're not taking care of yourself."

"'S not like that, sweetheart, I promise. After I get through tomorrow, everything will calm down and I'll be fine. Don't worry over me, okay?"

Every word that fell from his lips sounded less and less convincing. He definitely sounded sick with the way he gummed around his words through a thick throat, his breathing coming a bit heavier as if he couldn't breathe through his nose, and his reassurances sounded exactly like someone who was getting sick but didn't want to admit it would say.

Harry took her silence for exactly what it was: her disbelief. "(Y/N), love, I really am jus' tired. Thank you for worrying about me, but y'don't have to. 'M alright."

She swallowed. She supposed he really could be experiencing those cold symptoms for no other reason than the fact that he's tired, and has been going through a couple of long nights. With the weekend coming up, she too could argue that she wasn't feeling well enough to finish out her week, for no other reason than she would prefer to sleep in and do nothing instead of attending class.

"Okay," she relented, "Sorry to interrogate you, I've just never heard you sound like this before."

"I know, 's okay. But I promise I'm alright. I still need to take you to the aquarium this weekend, remember?"

(Y/N) immediately brightened up at the reminder of their weekend plans. "Yeah, so you better not be sick then. I have to see the sharks."

"Trust me, I know. You've said that almost every day since we booked the tickets." His voice took on a faux-exasperated tone, as if he couldn't wait to be done with their plans for no other reason than she would stop bringing them up.

A peal of laughter left her lips as she curled up on her couch, getting more comfortable now that she was talking with him. "You're so mean," she bubbled, "This is what I get for worrying about you? Maybe you should be sick and I'll just go alone."

"As if you'd drive yourself there."

Yeah, he was definitely feeling fine.

—————

While she was disappointed, (Y/N) wasn't surprised to see the lack of voicemail left for her when she rolled over on Friday morning. On the phone the night before, Harry had told her that he had another early morning coming, and it wasn't a secret just how rundown he was feeling. She had hoped, in the back of her mind, that he could be feeling well enough to send her a message in the morning anyway, but she couldn't blame him for opting to sleep a little bit longer before heading out the door.

Nonetheless, she still sent him his own good morning text, hoping it would brighten his day and remind him that it was finally Friday. He'd made it through the week and could now look forward to their plans.

morning honey!! i hope you have a better day but its friday!!!! we get to see each other tomorrow!!!!! text me when you can love uuuuuuu

Setting her phone on her nightstand, she proceeded to start her own day. Maybe, on the way to campus, she'd stop and get herself a matcha latte. It really had been a long week.

—————

just went to study in the quad and it started raining AS SOON as I sat down:( I had to run and take all my stuff back to my car:( and I think I forgot my favorite pen on accident :(

Pressing send, (Y/N) added her new lunchtime message to the string of blue messages she'd already sent that had gone unanswered. Even the read receipts hadn't flipped to anything other than delivered since her morning text hours ago. Of course there had been times where he hadn't gotten back to her by the time she had sent another text, as well as the other way around, this was just slightly out of the range of normal.

Being with him for almost a year allowed her to learn some of his schedule. She knew what his day to day must look like, just from the fact that he usually texted her, called her, or made plans around certain times of the day. It wasn't hard to pick up on the fact that around eleven-thirty he took a small break from his morning paperwork because that was when he would send her a message if he could. His lunch was always placed around twelve to one, something she learned because that was when he would ask if she wanted to come visit him, or he'd place a call to her while he ate. He left the office at the same time everyday, sometimes a little earlier and sometimes a little later.

With the time blinking past one-thirty with no phone call, text, or even the reading of her messages, (Y/N) didn't want to be worried but she was.

There were so many things that could have gone wrong, she figured. Her list of scenarios started with his phone breaking beyond repair, and ended with her sitting in a hospital waiting room. More than half of her worries were irrational, but that was unfortunately how her brain operated at times.

Without second guessing, (Y/N) pulled up Harry's contact before pressing the call button. As it rang and rang, she knew what the outcome was going to bet but she still hung on to the final trilling noise until it finally ended. The generic voicemail greeting played in her ear before she tapped the red end button.

Rationalizing herself, (Y/N) had to remember the way he had talked about how busy today was going to be for him. This week was all about prepping for a large conference meeting that would be taking place on Monday, including hours of paperwork, presentation reviews, and running in and out of meetings with other executives. While she thought she knew his day-to-day schedule rather well, that didn't mean that day like this wouldn't force him to deter. It was more than just a possibility that he really was that busy that he wouldn't be able to get back to her before he left the office.

He would call her when he could.

—————

goodnight! i hope youre okay honey just text me when you can

I love u

(Y/N) wasn't even sure how long she looked at her phone screen, waiting for the receipts to change when she sent her final message for the day. The thread consisted of blue messages she had sent through the day, no response in between. Her call log had three unanswered calls on the list, all outgoing to Harry.

It wasn't until six p.m. rolled around without a single response from him that she was unable to fight back the worst case scenarios she had rolling around her head. This just wasn't like him. He never stayed that late at the office. There was no way that through over twelve hours, that he didn't have a single second to even react to one of her texts, even just a short one telling her that he was okay but would be staying late.

Dropping the phone to fall in her sheets, her hands limp at her side, (Y/N) stared up at the ceiling. Something was wrong. Even if all it came down to was that he was so overworked that he fell asleep as soon as he made it home, that thought didn't exactly soothe her. It was scary thinking that something could have been so intense—work, meetings, preparations for the following week—that he didn't even have the mind to text her during his lunch. She just hoped he was alright.

She'd give it until the morning, she decided. Sunday was their aquarium date, and if she didn't hear from him by lunchtime tomorrow, then she was going to go to his apartment and see what was going on.

(In a very small part of her mind, a place she had shoved to the very back after everything with Andrew and Iris had been flushed away, she had the insecure thought that he could possibly, maybe, perhaps be ghosting her. While she could never imagine Harry, the king of communication, to go the route of ignoring her as a breakup option, that logic didn't necessarily win out against irrational insecurity).

Hopefully, giving him the night to rest and recuperate would be exactly what he needed, allowing him to get back on his feet tomorrow and reach out to her with everything she missed the day before.

Now, she just needed to figure out how she was going to get to sleep.

—————

There was no way she was going to get to sleep tonight.

Her brain was too preoccupied to settle, that much was apparent. She pretended as if she wasn't waiting for a notification to vibrate her phone with the way she picked up the book she was borrowing from Harry, barely reading any of the pages. She scrolled through her socials, distracting herself with videos and posts or whatever was fed to her to keep her from pulling down the top bar and checking for any messages she could have blinked through. More than once during her attempts at staying away from her phone, rolling away from her night stand and nestling into the sheets, she reached for it anyway.

This cyclical routine led her to stare up at the ceiling at one in the morning, phone at her side lest she get a message and not hear the buzz for whatever reason.

The later the hours got, the more her brain went wild. What if something happened and no one knew to contact her? What if he was really trying to break up with her through ghosting? What if no one even knew he was hurt in the first place and Harry was alone, scared? What if, what if, what if.

Throwing her comforter off her body, (Y/N) sat up in haste. She fit her phone into the pocket of her sweatpants before she was trekking through her apartment, heading to her kitchen. Flicking on the light, she stalked towards her cabinets as if she wasn't itching to grab her phone. Pulling out a glass, she filled it with water and took a long sip. Hoping the cold temperature would soothe her brain and settle the unease in her stomach, she stayed in her kitchen, leaning up against her oven, as she drained the glass.

When there was nothing left in the glass aside from a few drops and her anxiety was still flitting through her veins, (Y/N) felt restless.

What else was there to do? There was no way to fix this problem, but she couldn't see herself getting over it enough to actually get any rest. Her body had convinced herself something was wrong even if she tried to reason with herself otherwise. There was no way she was going to be able to beat out the quivering her stomach and rattling of her brain with logic.

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she checked once more for a notification that wasn't there. Swiping through to the text thread itself, she saw it was still the same string of unanswered blue texts sitting in the black void.

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she shifted her weight where she stood.

Would she be crazy to even consider going to his house right now?

She, unfortunately, couldn't stray her mind very far from the awful possibility that something could have happened, that Harry could be needing someone, and that was why he hadn't been able to contact her. It was a completely irrational, worst-case-scenario mindset, but one that couldn't be tamped down for very long.

(Y/N) just wanted to make sure he was alright.

That was all she could think of when she pushed off of the counter, heading towards her bedroom with a purpose. She tugged on a heavy hoodie, the oversized shape blending with her sweatpants, before she slid on a pair of slippers. She pulled her hair out of her face into a messy twist, chunky clip on the back of her head. Grabbing her keys and bag, she didn't give herself enough time to second-guess anything before she was beelining towards the front door.

By the time she made it to her car, key in the engine and dash lights illuminating the space, (Y/N) was convinced she'd lost it.

Nonetheless, she backed out of her space and started towards Harry's home.

—————

Using the key Harry had given her months back, (Y/N) let herself into his house. The lights were off throughout the space. His shoes were in a neat line along the wall, his jacket carefully hung up, and his work bag set up by the door like usual. Everything was immaculately perfect, as if he took his time and didn't rush a single step. (Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth.

She set her bag down by his, kicked her slippers off the same, before peering around the living room. His kitchen was clean as far as she could tell, no crumbs or even takeout containers on the counters.

Her stomach sunk as she scaled his stairs. She was officially acting insane, wasn't she? Harry was obviously fine, and she just couldn't let him have a day to himself, could she? This is what happens when she obsesses over things, she ends up looking like a fool, and it—

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks as she stepped into Harry's room, the door having been cracked before.

In his bed, Harry was curled up in a bundle of wrinkled sheets. Large comforters were draped over his form with more sitting on the end of the bed. A sliver of his face could be seen, his brows furrowed in distress with his forehead shimmering with sweat. The lump of bedding shook as he shivered underneath the mountain of down. Did he know his teeth were chattering? Did he know he was making these slight whimper tones?

With her concern skyrocketing, (Y/N) crossed the space to his bed in quick strides. Up close, she could see the flush on his cheeks, the dry skin of his lips, the way he had his arms bundled over his chest as if he was still freezing under all the blankets and the hoodie he had on.

And he said he wasn't feeling sick.

"Harry?" she murmured, crawling onto his bed as she reached to place a hand on his forehead. She cringed at the feel of the damp skin, too hot to be healthy. He didn't even stir at her disturbance. "Harry?"

In a fluttering blink, Harry suddenly woke up, a hurried gasp filling his lungs. It took a moment for him to catch his bearings, his eyes darting around the space before they settled on her. His gaze was bleary, unfocussed as he attempted to take her in.

"(Y/N)?" he croaked, voice crackling and dry.

No wonder he couldn't call her, he barely had a voice. (Y/N)'s heart cracked just a bit as she looked at him, settling on his bed with her legs folding up underneath her.

"Hi," she smiled at him, hoping to soothe him just a little, "I thought you said you weren't getting sick remember?"

"Yeah," he answered in a breath, his eyelids going heavy once more as he sunk into the bedding, "I don't want to be sick."

"I know," she murmured, "But it's going to be okay, we'll get you better again."

A slight curl landed on his lips as she spoke. "Are you staying?"

"Of course, I am," she promised, running a hand through his hair, pushing the strands off of his forehead. Harry happily pressed into her hand, seeking out her warmth as another shiver wracked through his system. As sweet as she thought it was, she was less than impressed with just how intense his fever was. "When was the last time you took medicine?"

"I don't know," he mumbled, voice thick as his eyes shuttered closed, "I don't know if I have any."

"Harry, you're joking." He had to be, really. There was no way that her responsible Harry didn't have any kind of cold medicine at his disposal.

A smile once more tugged at the corners of his lips. "Maybe," he shrugged, "I can't remember."

(Y/N) sighed, knowing she was going to have to ransack his house and try to find any kind of medicine she could get him to take when he was a little more lucid. Until then, she was going to start small.

"Have you been drinking water?"

"Don't know."

Harry shivered as she looked towards his bedside table, finding not even a half finished glass of water waiting. She had reason to assume that he hadn't been lucid enough to even remember to hydrate during this whole thing.

"(Y/N)?" Harry crooned, voice too thick to be comfortable.

"Hm?" she hummed, carding her fingers through his hair once more.

Keening into her touch, he spoke with his eyes closed. "I'm tired."

"I know," she murmured, brows pinching when another shiver wracks his body, "You can sleep, honey. I'll find some medicine for you, and everything when you wake up, okay?"

"Okay," he sighed, completely compliant to whatever she had to say. Shifting under her palm, he turned his head until her palm was grazing the planes of his face. He puckered his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her palm. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too, honey."

She watched as a sleepy smile bloomed on his features before he sunk into his pillow, heavy blankets set on his form. He was out, just like that.

Watching over him, (Y/N) felt a guilty sense of relief as she saw a shiver roll down his spine. She didn't like seeing him so down, obviously out of it with fever chills going through his body, but this was a decidedly nicer outcome than the panic scenarios she had swirling through her head.

Giving him one more pass of her fingers through his hair, she backed off his bed. She doubted he would be sleeping very soundly, so she didn't have much time to go through and find all of the things he would need to get him through the night.

His bedroom door was left cracked open as she padded through his home. There was no way he didn't have any medicine laying around, she was sure of it. She just needed to find it.

"Shoot," (Y/N) murmured under her breath, fumbling through the cabinet in his first floor bathroom.

She was going to have to call the aquarium in the morning and reschedule their reserve tickets.

—————

"Harry? You've got to wake up for me, honey."

Harry wanted to open his eyes, he really did, but no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't. He was too tired, too cold, too enveloped in his vivid dreams.

"Just for a second then you can go back to sleep, okay?"

Taking in a heavy breath through his sore throat, Harry attempted once more to crack his eyes open. This time around he was successful to a small degree, his eyes opening into slits. Everything was a bit blurry, too hazy to make out exact details of what was around him. He was so cold—freezing even. The blankets weren't enough.

Above him, he saw who he was ninety-eight percent sure was (Y/N). There were vague memories of seeing her earlier in the night. He remembered the shape of her smile, the sound of her voice, her gentle touch through his hair. He thought he had been dreaming,

"You're here?" he croaked, deep crackles in his voice.

"I am, yeah," she crooned to him, shuffling closer to him, "And I have medicine for you to take."

"You do?" A sudden chill swept over his form. He burrowed deeper under his covers.

"Yeah, but you need to sit up for me so you can take it and drink some water."

His brow creased her words. "No," he whined, unwilling to abandon his cocoon for something so trivial like water.

"Yes," (Y/N) argued, "You're sick, H. You need to take some medicine so you can feel better."

He shook his head. "I'll get better later."

A soft peal of laughter filled his bedroom. "I think we should get better now, honey. I know you don't like being sick, so this will help it go away faster."

Her logic checked out, really, though it didn't really make him happy to admit. "Fine," he answered begrudgingly.

(Y/N) helped him sit up, his layers of blankets falling to his lap. His palms were sweaty as he clutched the hem of the comforters, his eyes going just a bit less bleary the more he blinked away his sleep.

At his side, (Y/N) was huddled amongst the folds of his bedding. She looked at him with a softened smile, eyes glancing over his features and whatever state he must be in.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, reaching behind herself to grab both the medicine and the water she had waiting for him.

Harry shrugged, his head feeling too heavy. "Tired," he grumbled, "I have a fever, don't I?"

Her smile downturned some, frowning at the edges. "Yeah. I don't know how high, but I think it's a pretty good one," she told him, "So we need to make sure you keep drinking and start taking medicine again."

"That sounds like a lot of work."

A huff of laughter fell from (Y/N)'s lips again. "I'm sure it will be, but I don't think it'll be much work for you." Before he could compute some kind of retort, (Y/N) was handing him a duo of pills and a glass of water. "Only sip the water, okay? Too much could make you sick."

Her voice was like static in the background as he moved with lethargic limbs, tossing the pills to lay on his tongue before taking down a large gulp of water. He could vaguely hear her scolding him for taking down too much right after she warned him to slow down.

"Sorry, sorry," he told her, throat not feeling quite as rough now that he drank something. "'M thirsty."

"I'm sure you are, but you need to be careful," she told him, her voice a soft soothe as she took the glass from his hand and back to the side table, "Just take it slow. Are you hungry?"

Trying to remember the last meal he had, Harry struggled to cast his mind that far back. While he didn't necessarily identify any hunger pains in his body at the moment, too much else going on, he figured they were buried somewhere amongst the crowded chaos.

"Yeah," he answered, voice thick through his burning throat, "A little."

"Let me go make you some soup, okay? After you eat, you can go back to sleep if you want."

(Y/N) made a move to shuffle off of his bed, but she didn't get very far when he reached out with heavy limbs to pull her back. "'M not that hungry," he murmured, "Stay."

"Harry," she started, her tone turning into a coaxing plea, "I'll be fast, and you need to eat, okay?"

Disregarding her attempt at reasoning, he proceeded to tug her back to his chest. Though he didn't feel particularly strong at the moment, (Y/N) helped by moving pliantly wherever he wanted, even helping him when he shifted them to lay beneath the covers together.

"'M too tired," he said, nosing at the curve of her neck, "I'll eat later."

"Harry," she sighed once again, "I was going to make that soup you like, though."

He only shook his head, pressing the tip of his cold nose into the column of her throat. He buried himself close against her, feeding into her warmth and the comfort the soft curves of her body provided.

"Later," he insisted, her voice slurring and weakening. He puckered his dry lips and gave a small kiss to the shelf of her collarbone. "Stay."

It was when he felt her hands return to his hair, carding through the swirling curls and scratching her nails against his scalp, that he knew he won.

"Alright," she relented, planting her own kiss on the crown of his head, "I'll wait until you wake up, honey."

All it took was shuttering his eyes, lashes glancing over her skin with a slow breath in, that he fell asleep again.

—————

Harry's muscles ached by the time he finished the small serving of soup (Y/N) had made for him, only small remnants of carrots and celery remaining at the bottom. While he was much more lucid, his fever finally having gone down almost a full twelve hours since (Y/N) started feeding him medicine, his body was now exhausted from the fight against his cold.

"This was really good, sweetheart. Thank you," he smiled at her when she came to claim his dishes and return them to the kitchen. In his now empty palms, she replaced the dishes with another duo of pills for him to take.

"Those should get you through the night," (Y/N) explained, "But just wake me up if you need to. I'm hoping the soup will help your throat so you won't wake up coughing again."

That had been the story of his day, at this point. In between the fever, the cold sweat, and the muscle aches, he had barely been able to sleep before he was forced awake by the burn in his throat that demanded he cough until he swore his esophagus was raw.

"Okay," he responded, voice feeling gummy in his throat, "Are we going to bed now?"

Dishes still in hand, (Y/N) pursed her lips as she looked at him. "Actually," she started, shifting her weight, "I was thinking—if you're feeling okay enough—that we could take a shower? I think it would help you feel better to get all the fever off of you and into some clean clothes."

To be fair, he fell asleep in these sweats Thursday night, and it was now Saturday night with the same hoodie pulled over his torso and heavy sweats that kept him warm through his perceived chill. But the idea of standing up for that long, in a space that hot and warm, already made him tired enough he figured he could fall asleep in an instant.

She must have been able to tell what he was thinking by the soured expression on his face. "We'll be really fast, I promise," she assured him, "I was going to wash your hair and everything, so you wouldn't even have to do anything but stand there."

While he was sure she was bribing him with the promise of washing his hair for him, taking the task off of his hands while simultaneously giving him the gift of feeling her nails scratch at his scalp and card through his hair under the warm spray of water, he knew he wasn't going to win when that offer was on the table. She knew exactly how to get him.

"We'll be fast?"

"Promise."

With a sigh, Harry caved in. "Okay, but if I fall asleep, y'jus' have to let me."

"I'll make sure you don't fall then," she pledged with a proud smile on her face, "I'll be right back and then we'll go upstairs."

—————

"Too cold," Harry grumbled, his bare skin erupting into goosebumps under the spray of water.

Reaching around his back to adjust the temperature knob, (Y/N) turned it up just a bit more. By her preference, the water was plenty hot, especially apparent with the amount of steam filtering through the room already, but she figured he was still fighting off a few chills.

"Is that better?" she asked, quickly pulling her hand out of the stream.

"Almost," he murmured, eyes fluttering closed.

His skin was quickly turning red under the temperature, but he seemed to revel in it. He threw his head back under the water, wetting his curls. His arms were barred over his chest, but she could still see the way he pulled in a deep breath, the sauna-like atmosphere cleaning his sinuses. She allowed him to luxuriate in the feel, hoping his muscles were relaxing as much as she knew he needed.

"Which shampoo do you want tonight?" she asked, looking towards the built in caddy he had in his shower, the cubby full of both his and her products.

"Yours," he answered automatically, his voice sounding much less clogged after reveling in the water.

With a soft smile, she retrieved the bottle, aware of the way Harry turned to offer her the back of his head to run the cleanser through.

"Fast, right?" he murmured just above the sound of the pounding water.

"Fast," she promised, sudsing up her hands before she was going through the soft curls with her shampoo.

Though normally Harry would have leant down for her to get better leverage and not have to reach too far above to wash his hair, she couldn't blame him as he kept the full of his height. His back hurt enough some days without having a cold running through his system, it didn't help when his muscles were pinched with fever chills. Nonetheless, she stood to the tips of her toes and did as best she could to get him back to feeling more like himself.

It didn't take long for the cherry-scented bubbles to start scenting the steam, wrapping around them in sweet ribbons. She smiled at the way he practically melted at the feel, rolling his neck and allowing her more and more coverage of the shampoo. It was a silly thought, but for a minute she felt as if she were playing as his hairdresser. Was she supposed to do small talk with him?

The thought had a huff of laughter puffing through her nose.

"What's funny?" Harry asked, his voice sluggishly warm.

"Nothing, just something silly," she told him, pulling her fingers from the silky suds of his hair, "Rinse your hair and we'll wash one more time before conditioning, okay?"

"Okay," he answered absently, turning to place his hair under the rinsing spray, the bubbles running down his skin.

(Y/N) couldn't help herself, following the string of bubbles that ran down his chest, flushed skin slick from the steaming water. If this shower were under different circumstances, she would have taken it upon herself to trace that line of bubbles with her own hands, but that would have to wait, she decided. The lines of his muscles were attention grabbing, but there was something in it that made her feel sad for him. It wasn't fun to see him, knowing just how strong he was, to be reduced down to shivers and half-lucid conversations all from a small cold.

With his hair rinsed free of all the bubbles, he looked to her, curls draping down around his face. "Again?"

"Again," she affirmed, "Then we'll finish up and go to bed."

A soft smile touched the corner of his lips. "Okay."

Repeating the motion of washing through his hair once more, reviving the pattern after days of enduring his cold sweats. When she gave him the go ahead to rinse down once more, she could see just how slow he was moving again; lethargic limbs heavy.

"Which body wash are you thinking?" Though she had an inkling that he would choose to utilize her products again, she still thought to ask.

Instead of getting an answer, she was surprised with heavy, tattooed arms wrapping around her middle from behind. In her ear, he whispered, "Not yet?"

"Not yet?" she asked, turning in his arms to look up at him, "I thought you wanted to go fast?"

Gazing down at her with hooded eyes, he looked at her with flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. "I don't want to leave right now."

"No?" she asked with a beaming smile, a small huff of laughter falling from her lips. She looped her arms around his middle, setting her palms on the slick skin of his back. The water sprayed down on her hands, the temperature no longer bothering her.

"No," he said, murmuring over the thrum of the water. A silence settled between the two of them as he gave her a slow blink, his gaze drifting down to the curve of her lips. "Kiss?"

(Y/N) looked up at him with a pout, her hand on his back running a soothing circuit over the planes. "I don't want to get sick, H."

"You won't get sick," he tried to tell her, bringing his hand up to cradle her cheek, "I promise."

"How can you promise that, hm?" she prodded, teasing him some with her pout turning into a tender smile.

She seemed to have stumped him some, watching as he rolled her words around. "I don't know," he settled on, "But, I'll take care of you if you do."

With that, he dipped his head down and brushed the tip of his nose against the side of her own. The lilypads of his tired eyes were close enough for her to pick out the varying shades of clear green, the wet clumps of his lashes a dark frame around them. It was hard to say no to him, especially like this.

Tipping her chin up, she pressed her lips against his. It was a soft, innocent kiss that lingered for only a moment. It broke off when she could feel the curl of Harry's smile.

"Is that enough?" she asked, nuzzling his nose in a puppy's kiss.

"Almost," he murmured, "But I'll wait until bedtime."

(Y/N) let out a soft laugh, pulling away to rest her cheek against his chest. His skin was blazingly warm, aided by the steaming water still scenting around them. He hugged her close, his arms a loose loop around her with his nose grazing the top of her head. His heartbeat drummed a soothing rhythm under her ear, a comforting reminder that he was right here, right with her. After the hours she went worrying and building anxiety over his state when she hadn't heard from him the day before, feeling the solid build of his body and the steady heartbeat under her ear, this was more relieving than she was sure he even knew.

"(Y/N)?" he asked after a moment.

"Hm?" she hummed, snuggling that much closer.

"Are we still going to the aquarium tomorrow?"

Blinking her eyes open in an instant. She forgot to call.

—————

thank u sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes! if theres any ideas anyone wants to see pls send them in:)))

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 2 months

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David Tennant at This Morning show with Alison Hammond and Dermot O’Leary talking about Good Omens Season 2, 11.07.2023 :) ❤

DO: And David joins us now. I mean, this looks like a great show.

David: Oh, yeah.

DO: So, I mean, It's pure Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, isn't it?

David: It is, yeah.

DO: The whole thing. So tell us, so if people haven't seen the first series and they want to go back, set the whole scene.

David: So I'm Hell's representative on Earth, Michael Sheen is Heaven's representative on Earth, put there to do the biding of our respective Head Offices. But we found out that if we became mates and sort of helped each other out, it kind of cut out the workload, cancelled each other out. So we're best mates. But in Series One we end up having to avert the apocalypse, which we managed to do, but as a result of that, we get cut off. So we're now living on Earth as independent individuals.

AH: So do you still need each other, then?

David: We still need each other. We've only got each other now because we don't have Heaven and Hell anymore.

DO: Because you both love earth so much, you both like.

David: Oh, we much prefer living on Earth because Heaven's a bit stuffy and Hell's awful.

DO: So you conspire to thwart the Armageddon. Exactly.

David: We thwart the Armageddon. That's fine. But Series Two begins when the angel Gabriel, Jon Hamm, who you just saw there, shows up at Aziraphale, Michael Sheen's bookshop, naked with no memory, holding a cardboard box. So suddenly we're locked into the politics of Heaven and Hell again. We don't know what's going on. We've got a mystery to solve. Why is the angel Gabriel here? The angel Gabriel tried to kill us both at the end of the last series, so we've got to...

DO: But now he's kind of got amnesia and...

David: Yes. So he becomes like our weird child, in this sort of weird sort of eternal marriage that Michael and I are locked in.

DO: So many shows now use a book as their base and then they do really well and you can see the company and the writers go, better come up some new ideas, I suppose. So the book's obviously Terry Pratchett and then Neil Gaiman, correct?

David: That's right. They wrote that together years and years and years ago. Much beloved. And that's what the first series was. But Neil and Terry had always talked about possibilities of this sequel that they never got around to making. Terry's no longer with us. But when the possibility came up, Neil thought, well, listen, I've got some ideas. Let's spin it forward. Let's see if we can tell the story we were always going to tell. So we get to come back.

AH: Should we have a little sneak look at the new series? Let's have a look. So good. Did you ever think it was going to be this successful? Did you even know that you were going to go into a second series

David: Oh, no, not at all. No. There was only one novel, so we just thought we were coming together to do that. And I didn't realise how beloved this book was. I first read a script. But it means a lot to a lot of people.

AH: And the look of you is so striking. Did you have any input into that? A bit, yeah, we sort of all found it together, myself and makeup and costume and Neil Gaiman, who ran the show. So, yeah, we kind of arrived... in the book he's a bit more - because obviously the book was sort of early ninetues, so he was a bit more sharp-suited and a bit more Wolf of Wall Street. So we've kind of had to find the kind of modern equivalent of that.

DO: Is he... obviously you're playing a demon. Has he got any humanity in him or is he purely self-centered?

David: Well, he's not a very good demon. He's good at sort of the snarl and the swagger and pretending that he's terribly cynical, but actually his problem is that he's a bit too... there’s a bit too much heart, really.

DO: He's alright

David: Yeah, yeah.

DO: Must be wonderful playing a baddie.

David: Oh, it's great fun, but he's not a baddie, is not really a baddie.

DO: Yeah, yeah.

David: And just like Aziraphale angel is not always as goody goody as he likes it, so they meet very beautifully in the middle.

DO: You and Michael Sheen. I mean, you've worked together a fair bit, don't you. I loved Staged. That was such fun.

David: Yeah!

AH: Have you ever not worked together?

David: Now we only work together.

AH: All the time.

David: Yeah. I mean, He's not sitting on this sofa, but he is backstage. We can't be apart.

DO: He's speaking in his ear right now.

David: Exactly, yeah.

AH: But you are... you have got a genuine friendship. You're growing old together gracefully.

David: We're growing old together?!

AH: You look good for it, I'm not going to lie. What's the secret, babe?

David: A lot of makeup. It's very thick.

AH: We've got to talk about the fact that you are returning to Doctor Who.

David: Ah, yes.

AH: I can't believe this. And can you tell us anything at all?

David: I mean, beyond that I'm doing it? I think...

AH: No.

David: Really. Because that's the fun of it, isn't it? Hopefully tt was a bit of a surprise when I showed up. When Jodie Whittaker regenerated into me.

AH: We were shocked.

David: It was a bit of a surprise, so we wanted to sort of keep some shocks, but Catherine Tate's back, so it's a bit like 15 years never happened, to be honest.

DO: Know about it for a while. Like... did Russell T get in touch and say...

David: Yeah, it sort of gradually kind of evolved as an idea and we thought maybe they'd let us do a one off for old time's sake. And then suddenly it became a bit more than that and we were back for a bit of a run.

AH: So how many episodes did you get to do?

David: We did three.

AH: Wow. That's incredible. What's it like to be back? Did he just slot straight back in?

David: I mean, sort of. It felt weirdly familiar. Yeah. And you think, 'Oh, will I still able to run as fast? Can I still kind of...?' But it was like we'd never been away. It was joyous. Yeah.

DO: And could we talk about your son? Because is your son in Good Omens with you?

David: Ty's in... has a part in Episode Two of Good Omens.

AH: Is he?

DO: And I loved him in House of the Dragon.

David: I know. He's very good. He's very good.

DO: What a relief.

David: There he is. I know, what a relief. Exactly. No, I mean...

AH: Imagine if he was bad.

David: Imagine if he was rubbish. How would we tell him? Sit down, listen...I know it's sort of the family business, but maybe joinery? So... no, he's really good. And he's annoyingly good looking. You know, he's just got it all. So it's lovely and great to get to work together. Brilliant.

#good omens #this morning #this morning 2023 #david tennant #interview #david interview #david about crowley #crowley #fun fact #crowley is a softie #videos #video interview #transcripts #ty tennant #david about ty #video transcripts #s2 interview

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seullovesme · 2 months

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need your attention » nakamura kazuha

pairing ⥬ kazuha x f!reader

genre ⥬ fluff

summary ⥬ you pay the le sserafim girls a visit after one of their stages and your time spent with a certain member was misunderstood by kazuha

sorry to my dear anon who requested this, ive been neglecting this for so long 😞

the attention of the le sserafim girls was caught when a member of the staff quite loudly questioned you, asking who you were and why you were trying to get inside.

the first one to recognize you was eunchae, she was surprised to see you and got the attention of the leader sitting beside her, telling her to tell the staff to let you in. "unnie! look it's y/n, tell them to let her in!"

the other girls heard your name and turned to see you standing at the door with a face mask on being talked to by some staff. chaewon got up and rushed to go and assist you while the members all smiled at each other.

she pulled the face mask off your face and grabbed your wrist, dragging you to where everyone had been sitting and she sat you right beside sakura before claiming her spot beside yunjin.

"y/n!" the eldest cheered as she hugged you as tight as possible, making your face turn a shade of red as you felt the air leave your lungs. "hey, stop hogging her!" eunchae yelled as she also lunged toward you and you yelped when she squeezed you too.

"guys stop! look at her, she's gonna pop!" they both let go of you to take a peek at your face and you gasped for air. "one more second and you may have actually suffocated me." you say in between small breaths, smiling at the affection of your friends.

"not our fault, where have you been? we missed you!" sakura said, going in for a much softer hug. you took your eyes off her and glanced at kazuha who was crossing her arms, looking disinterested. did she not miss you at all? you looked away and coughed as you noticed that the rest were all patiently waiting for your response, wondering if they saw you peek at the ballerina.

"w-well, i've been busy working at this new company and i actually got paid yesterday, so i was hoping that i could treat you guys out for dinner!" when you made the offer, the girls all got up and began squealing in excitement. it was nice finally seeing them again, you enjoyed watching them be so up and active, just being so cheerful. especially zuha.

but she didn't get up like the rest of them had. she just kept sulking in her seat. you could tell something was off about her and that she was thinking really deeply, but you chose not to say anything. you knew that she would tell you what was bothering her sooner or later, she always let you know what was on her mind.

they began discussing places to go and what foods they were craving. you watched them happily, ecstatic that you were able to treat them after all the times they treated you. you continued sneaking glances to kazuha, hoping to catch her looking at you as well, but her eyes were locked onto sakura. you turned to sakura and realized she had been talking to you.

"mm? sorry, say that again i wasn't listening." you laughed nervously and rubbed your neck.

"oh i was just asking if you had any preferences like what kind of food you wanted, or if there were any restaurants you were interested in going to."

you shook your head in response. "no, it's up to you guys. i'm not picky." sakura nodded and went back to chatting after you gave a small smile.

you looked back to where kazuha was sitting, but she was gone. you searched the room for her, eventually spotting her sitting at a vanity, mindlessly going through her phone. thinking back, she didn't have any input about food. was she not hungry?

you got up and walked over to her, hoping this was the chance to talk with her one on one and hopefully ask her to go out sometime, just the two of you. she didn't look up from her phone when you stood there awkwardly, sort of ignoring you.

"hi." you were going insane on the inside, your braincells going into a code red as you lost the ability to think of what to say. she put down her phone and made eye contact with you through the mirror, waiting for you to continue.

you cleared your throat. "so... did you not have any food suggestions? where do you want to go?" you asked, your voice a little shaky.

"hm. i don't know, why don't you ask kura unnie?" she said while she broke eye contact, picking at a thread on her shirt.

"what?"

"you should ask kura unnie, sure seems like she has a lot to talk to you about." she mumbled the last sentence, but you heard it clearly. you spun her chair to face you directly.

"what's going on? is everything okay, kazuha? you can talk to me, you know i'll hear you out." zuha sighed and leaned back in her chair as she crossed her arms. you pulled up a stool and when you seated yourself, you were a little shorter than her. you put a hand on her knee and gently stroked it as an attempt to comfort her.

"well, she's been hogging all your attention and you didn't give any to me. you didn't even say anything to me until now." she just looked away, embarrassed to have admitted her need for your attention out loud. "but i guess i understand, she's really pretty and all. honestly, i guess i'm.. glad she feels the same." she finishes hesitantly, her words lacking sincerity.

with the way you couldn't understand what she was talking about, it was like she was speaking another language. who feels the same about what? and she just wanted your attention? you blushed at the fact that kazuha flat out said that she was upset you didn't give her attention. she was adorable.

"what do you mean? sakura feels the same? about what?" you questioned.

"don't play dumb, i can tell you like sakura!"

you tried not to, but you laughed. "i do not like sakura, where did you get this from?" kazuha huffed and pouted, annoyed by your reaction.

"you were all over her earlier! you were basically giving her heart eyes." you scoffed at her response, rolling your eyes with a smile.

"heart eyes? all over her? oh please, we had two conversations."

"what about when she hugged you? you seemed to enjoy it a little too much."

"she was squeezing the life out of me, what do you mean?! plus, eunchae hugged me as well."

"well," she thought about another argument, but she didn't have anything else to say. "whatever." she went back to playing with the thread on her shirt, feeling kind of silly because you were right after all. there wasn't anything weird about what you were doing her member, but it still bothered her. just watching you talk to her when you hadn't even tried to talk to her once this entire time affected her tremendously. she felt frustrated with all these mixed feelings.

and you could tell. you saw that she was bothered, and she was even saying it out right that she was upset about your interactions with your other japanese friend. the only thing was that you knew how she felt. "zuha, you don't think you're a tad bit jealous?"

it was her turn to scoff. "jealous? of what? the fact that you like kura unnie and not me? pshh, no way." kazuha frowned slightly because she was, and it was making her say these stupid things. curse her stupid heart and it's stupid feelings.

"oh, kazuha." you lifted her chin, initiating eye contact but she just pouted, scared to look you in the eye.

"i told you, i don't like sakura that way. in fact, it's quite the opposite." she finally gave in and stared into the windows of your soul.

"she is pretty," you observed the twitch in her eyebrow when you said that. "but i think you are the prettiest girl out of everyone in the world." her jaw just fell and she watched the corners of your lips curl up.

"i'm sorry i didn't give you any attention. i know i usually do so i understand why you were bothered. you weren't used to it, were you?" kazuha shook her head, and you smiled as she eased up the tension in her muscles. you just needed to let her know that you understood, that's all.

"how about this, i give you my undivided attention for as long as you want this upcoming saturday, just us. does that sound better?" you offered and she was dumbfounded.

she uncrossed her arms and nervously rubbed her palms on her thighs, feeling the heat of your gaze cause her to sweat a bit. "are you.. asking me out?" you just nodded and watched as kazuha's eyes lit up. she clapped her hands together and flashed her sweet smile, and it felt like you were watching an angel spread it wings for the first time. it was just a beautiful sight to see.

"then yes! it sounds much better." she took the hand you had resting on her knee and held it tightly. you swooned over her touch, enjoying the way she shined. "i don't want any other girls to have you, you're all mine."

you raised one eyebrow at her words which kazuha picked up as you teasing her, and she hit your shoulder in response. you snickered, interlocking your fingers with hers and tugging her, pulling her up to stand. you gave her another smile and brought her back to the girls who were finalizing their choices.

you sat where zuha was sitting previously and pulled her onto your lap, wrapping your arms around her waist. the four of them turn to you two and carried on with planning like it was the usual. because it was, it was always you and kazuha, kazuha and you.

everyone knew you and zuha were like two peas in a pod, and it seemed that the only ones didn't were the people in question.

literally took me so long to finish one fic, wtf is wrong with me rn😒

#seullovesme » posted!#nakamura kazuha #nakamura kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader #miyawaki sakura #le sserafim #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #kpop imagines #non idol au

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 months

Text

Yandere Manager

Managers can teeter on the edge of being the most helpful and supportive authorities in your life or the worst. More often leaning toward the latter, it isn’t bizarre to feel helpless when they put a strain on your paycheck or your general health during and outside the work day. It’s infuriating and downright despairful when they use the power of management to make you miserable. But you can always file a report to HR or the branch head. Sometimes it’ll work but not always. More likely than not there’s more support for them further down the line which makes it even harder to contest.

“(Y/n) didn’t I tell you to smile when you’re at the front? S-M-I-L-E!”

But there’s something just as alarming about the manager who doesn’t have that. No favor from directors, open to the reprimands of human resources, and even a criminal record to boot. There’s something that compels you to listen when you look for an ounce of sympathy in those amber eyes to find a tempest of unhinged madness. You can only begin to visualize in a fever-driven nightmare.

That’s your manager.

The lovely, awful, and disastrous manager that fills you with helplessness like no other.

Yandere Manager is just so naggy. Not only to you but your coworkers as well because there’s always something to comment on. Even when it’s not insulting or condescending it just rubs everyone the wrong way.

“The way the uniform looks on you makes it look like we dragged you off the street.”

“....”

“....You’re the one who gave her a uniform that isn’t her size.”

“Yeah, but she’s the one who looks homeless. (Y/n) how about you mind your business and actually do your job. Thanks!”

Yandere Manager is especially unpredictable in his support of you. Sometimes joining unruly customers when they blame you for something you messed up on. While also defending you over something small that didn’t require anyone’s input let alone his. Situations with entitled customers is a coin toss with him.

“Miss I’ll just remake the drink for you.”

“No no, you don’t have to I just want to know what was used instead of oat milk.”

“Oh okay then it's…Mr. Manager?”

“....YOU!?”

“Me?”

“Oh no.”

“NEVER WALK INTO MY ESTABLISHMENT AGAIN!”

“What why? I didn’t–”

“IF YOU REFUSE TO LEAVE I’LL HAVE TO REMOVE YOU BY FORCE.”

“Ahhh!”

“Wait! You don’t need the crossbow! Put it down!”

“DON’T EVER SPEAK TO MY EMPLOYEE EVER AGAIN!”

You can hardly pinpoint a pattern to his discord even after his honest confession when you catch him rifling through your things. But he won’t explain why he steals your lunch or makes fun of you in front of your coworkers. Or why he slashes your tires and breaks the windows of your home. It gets so bad you’re starting to think he uses this supposed obsession as an excuse for his behavior.

“Will you please explain why you broke into my car…for the fourth time?”

“Hmmm no.”

“...fine don’t. Now get out.”

“No I don’t think I will.”

“I have pepper spray and a tasor.”

“I can handle pepper spray.”

~Kzzt~

“Okay fine, you win this time.”

But despite your suspicions, he’s very much obsessed. Convinced he’s owed your affections he doesn’t mind breaking into your home, invading your personal space, and making light fun-as lovers do. No, his more sporadic actions happen to be something like knee-jerk reactions of his love for you. Similar to cuteness aggression. Because in his mind he’d prefer to break another window of yours than murder the family next door for looking at you too long.

“This will have to do for now. I mean they can’t pin me for their carelessness when driving into a ditch, right?”

Usually, he doesn’t mind just doing whatever he feels like but since you’ve caught and called the police on him he’s on a tight leash. Not because he’s at all afraid of the police. Not at all. It’s because then he’ll be breaking the hold he has on you. Let me explain.

The minute he did the slightest thing out of line you called the higher-ups who threatened him and assured you he’d be fired. Great. But when he cornered you in your own home with the possibility that this wouldn’t stop when he was fired you had to pause.

“Sure you might get rid of me at work but then you’ll never know where I am. Instead of staying at work with you, I might just be in your room or at your friend’s house, or in your car!”

“T-t-then I’ll call the police on you!”

“After I’ve already left? Well sure they can serve an order and arrest me if I’m too close but when I break out–and trust me I will–you’ll have no idea when or where I’ll be coming from. I’ll be a constant boogeyman over your life if you kick me out now.”

“.....”

“So don’t get me fired, kay?”

Yandere Manager who is only given a warning by his employers and police before you stop attempting to get others involved. As much as you hate to admit it, he’s completely right. For all the times you find him breaking in, already broken in, or stealing something of yours he’s never lied to you. The same can’t be said for others but even when he’s doing something wrong he’ll always be honest with you.

“Mister Manager? Did you do something to my lunch?”

“No! How dare you accuse me of such a deplorable thing! I should write you up.”

“....(Y/n)?”

“Clyde.”

“What?”

“Did you mess with his food?”

“Yes.”

“Dude are you serious?!”

Life with Yandere Manager isn’t going to be easy at first but when has it ever been for an employee like yourself? It’s best that you get used to your Manager’s obsession, heck it might help make your grueling shift a little bit better.

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere oc x reader #yandere original characters #yandere manager #yandere original character #yandere oc x you #yandere ocs #yandere ocs x reader #yandere manager x reader

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wonwoonlight · 4 months

Text

my way to you:

of dreams and moonlight / jeon wonwoo

➝ Wonwoo x fem!Reader

➝ rich!AU // heir & heiress!AU // est relationship // best friends to lovers <3 // fluff // slice of life // theyre too fucking in love its sickening // wedding talks

➝ warning: curses, so much fluff it's disgusting, kissing, they love each other so much im just projecting bc i want this!!!! D:

➝ word count: 8k~

A/N: happy new year! a little something from me to any of you who might remember this couple <3 i miss them and i love them sm. tell me if you enjoy this?

my way to you masterlist

[✾✾✾]

You and Wonwoo don't want a big wedding.

Yes, you do want the extravagant, over the top wedding because you've always liked celebrations and you're not gonna miss out on the celebration between you and Wonwoo. But you don't want it to be a big one with a bazillion people you don’t even recognize: just an intimate one with your close friends and family.

Naturally, you can't always get what you want.

You also understand why both of your parents insist on having a big one. In a world where your prestige matters more than anything, a wedding between the youngest son of the Jeons and the only heir of the Yoons simply can’t be anything but more than perfect. The biggest, most perfect celebration of the century, if possible. It needs to be something that the word ‘grandeur’ can’t even comprehend because it’s out of its league.

So you settle for a middle ground.

“Okay.” You say as your mother and Mrs. Jeon brief you on the wedding concepts they have come up with. You don’t even listen to half the things they said, because you know they would do better than you anyway. They wouldn’t pick anything not to your standard, and while some details you might not agree with, you believe the whole wedding would be perfect even without your input.

“Dear…” Your mom starts, hesitates a little because she doesn’t want you to think they’re pushing you into this. “We… We would like your opinion on this, you know? You’re a planner yourself, we'd understand if you have other thoughts regarding this.”

“Mom…” You bite back a sigh, not wanting her to think you're tired of her. The relationship between you and your parents are getting better ever since, and even though it's been almost two years since that incident, all three of you are still trying.

It's a long time coming, and while the relationship is better, it's still not what you'd call harmonious nor ideal.

It's okay though. You have your faults and they have theirs. It's not going to be easy to change the dynamics of your family, but you're glad all of you have recognized that some things need to be changed and the three of you have been putting in efforts albeit the sweet time you're all taking.

Understandable. It's never easy to change a habit and the way you treat people--even your own family.

“I simply think you and auntie will do a better job than I am.” You say in what you wish to be a gentle tone. You don't want to come off like you're complaining, but you can't be faulted for not being too enthusiastic because you know from the beginning that your wedding wouldn't be your dream wedding.

It's okay, though. You're not complaining–it's just a thought you keep to your own self and you really are grateful that your mom and Mrs. Jeon seem to be very excited about the whole thing. After all, you're an only child and Mrs. Jeon doesn't have another child's wedding she's going to be a part of.

When you and Wonwoo announced that you're engaged, the two women cried so much that your father, the man who barely blinked even during a car accident he found himself in, panicked.

It was quite funny, if you're being completely honest. But since then, you could tell that they both are more excited about the wedding ceremony than you are.

And while there's a small voice inside you that's still disappointed because you're not going to have your dream wedding, you're genuinely happy that the two women who will mostly be in charge of it are, well, very happy about it.

You can give them this.

“It's your celebration, too.” You give them a small, genuine smile. And even though they wince a bit at what you might be implying, you don't mean anything bad, so you correct yourself before they get the wrong idea. “I understand, Mom. We kind of have no choice but to make it big, and it's okay. I told you I've accepted it. We didn't tell you about our wish to make it small to guilt trip you and Auntie. It's just something me and Wonwoo have talked about but it's okay. It's really okay. Just consider it silly musings on our part?”

Your mom, ever since the whole missing accident, has gotten very soft, too.

Well, either that or you simply haven't spent enough time with her before to be aware of her emotional tendency.

“Oh my–why… why are you crying?!” You panic, looking at Mrs. Jeon who seems to know exactly why your mom is crying.

“It’s just…” She clears her throat and composes herself, softly apologizes for the sudden emotional burst. “When… did you grow this mature?”

Feeling awkward, you're not sure how to answer that. You're not the most talkative in front of your parents, and sentimental talks like this are the worst thing ever because, as much as you appreciate it, you never know how to respond to them.

Not that you ever had to until now.

She didn't become like this right after that incident, but once the wedding planning begins, you find yourself spending a lot of time with her (and Mrs. Jeon, of course, but you've always been more comfortable with her than your mom) and that's when she becomes more open with you.

“Uhh…” You turn to Mrs. Jeon in desperation, asking for her help with your eyes. She simply smiles though and mouths you not to worry.

The wedding discussion continues for a little after that, but after you convince them that you're really giving them full control and they can proceed with anything while you'll simply join the discussion from time to time and for the final decisions, they know that there's no use trying to change your mind.

At least you're not completely abandoning the discussion, simply prefer to not be included in it intensely.

You go home (read: Wonwoo's penthouse) after that, and it's thirty minutes later that Wonwoo also returns, finding you unmoving on the couch, seemingly deep in your thoughts.

“Hey, princess.” He greets you, which you return with both of your arms extending towards him. He chuckles and happily pulls you into a hug, maneuvers the both of you so you're sitting on his lap and you just melt into his chest. “Long day?”

“Met Mom and Auntie for the wedding prep discussion.”

Wonwoo actually laughs, and you pout at him and pretend to get away only for him to tighten his arms around you.

“Did they give you a hard time?”

“Just… I don't know.”

He hums as he takes in your face; you don't look like you're annoyed, just a little tired and somewhat disoriented. You're probably still deep in your head and need more time before you're able to tell him.

“I'll wash up, then dinner, and we can talk about it later?”

You look up and stare at him for a few seconds, gathering your thoughts before you nod and peck his lips.

“You know me too well.” You kiss his cheek after that. “I'll order some Thai food?”

“Anything you want, my princess.” He teases you and avoids your punch just in time because he knows you and your violence tendency when it comes to that particular pet name paired with a certain tone of his.

An hour and a dinner later, you found yourself cuddled up on Wonwoo's bed–at this point your bed because you rarely go back to your place anyway and you've basically moved in with him the moment you got together–his fingers playing with your hair as you try to look for something on YouTube as a background noise to play on his TV.

You take your time, which Wonwoo doesn't complain about. He never does. He knows you too much to complain about anything that you do at this point, not that he has much to complain about to begin with. God, he’s too whipped it doesn’t make sense.

“I told Mom that I don't want to get too involved in the wedding prep.”

“Yeah?” He nudges you to continue, already aware of how you feel about the wedding preparation talks. “And what did she say about that?”

“She's not too happy, I reckon. But not in an angry way; I guess she and Auntie want me to be fully involved. But…”

“You're not enthusiastic because it's not gonna be your dream wedding anyway?”

“Yeah.” You sigh, in which Wonwoo can easily detect the guilt. “But Iike… I'm really grateful for them, Won. I really am. They seem happier and much more excited than I am planning the wedding, so I thought: why not just let them plan the whole thing? Plus it's not going to be easy to pretend to be invested in it all the time. I know I'm going to sound so spoiled and ungrateful but… I just want to get married to you surrounded by people who matter, you know?”

Wonwoo holds back a grin, still finding the idea of the two of you actually getting married to be surreal. He literally proposed to you again even if you've already proposed under the privacy of your hotel room because you deserve it. Obviously, you say yes. And yet, when anyone mentions your wedding and marriage, Wonwoo still can't believe it and he's very giddy inside.

“I know, love.” He caresses your hair and rests his cheek on top of your head. He presses his lip together as the gears in his mind turn, thinking if there's anything he could do to help. “You're right about them being excited, though. Dad says it's the only thing Mom talks about now.”

“Right?” Your smile is genuine, that much he can obviously tell. “That's why I thought I'd just let them do the whole thing. It's going to be their last chance to do it, anyway. After me and you, they probably won't be able to do this anymore.”

Wonwoo hums, but you're seemingly not done yet.

“Unless we divorce and you decide to remarry, I guess.”

“What the fuck?” He curses out of shock, not expecting those words to come out of you, and you laugh heartily at how scandalized he looks. “Why would you say something like that?”

You can't stop giggling, because Wonwoo rarely curses and when he does it's usually out of frustration that's been piling up. It sounds so childish to laugh over something like this, but you just can't seem to stop laughing despite the mock offense on his face.

Wonwoo pushes your cheeks together with his palms, making your lips purse like a duck, as he narrows his eyes at you.

“You do not speak like that, okay?” He reminds you seriously. “Don’t even joke about breaking up with me. You’re stuck with me, marriage or not.”

You scrunch your nose, and after struggling for a while, Wonwoo finally releases you and you grin at him as your arms wrap around his neck.

“You talk like it’s a bad thing.” You whisper shyly with a kiss to his cheek. “It would be my pleasure to be stuck with you.”

“Good.” He states shamelessly and it’s his turn to drop a kiss on top of your head. He’s getting brazen like that when it’s the two of you, which is a good thing because he’s now much more open to expressing himself instead of holding in whatever he’s feeling–good or bad.

Being with Wonwoo romantically for almost two years now, you find that there is still stuff that you don’t know about each other; that you still have a lot to learn and you’re happy to learn every single thing about him. You bicker quite often, because you’re the type to bring things to the surface as soon as possible while Wonwoo tends to bury them first and only uncover them later when it becomes a problem.

You’ve both learned how to take a middle ground for each other.

“Tell me about your dream wedding, then.” He says as you lay together, ready for bed. “I don’t think I’ve heard you talk about it after Jinyoung’s wedding.”

“You really want to listen to me talk about this?” Skepticism fills your voice and you look up only to see him shrug.

“Amuse me. I want to know what kind of wedding you actually want.”

You ponder for a bit, not actually having a detailed image of how you want it to be. During Jinyoung’s wedding preparation, you have a lot of opinions on what to do and what not to do based on his ceremony, but, funnily enough, you’ve never really thought about what your wedding would look like.

Having been the project manager for Yoon Holdings’ functions for years and now arranging Daisy Studio’s events and projects, you’re used to listening to what the other party wants and bringing them to life.

But to have what you want brought to life…?

“Do you not actually know?”

“It’s not that.” You whine and sit straight. “I just don’t know exactly the details of what I want.”

Wonwoo laughs at this, and he hugs you back into his arms before he lets you go to follow your posture. “It doesn’t have to be detailed, love. Just tell me what you have in mind right now?”

It’s then that you realize you’ve never talked about this with Wonwoo. Yes, you’ve mentioned some of your preferences during Jinyoung’s wedding preparation, but to actually talk about your dream wedding…? On top of you not having a real idea about what you want it to be, it just doesn’t occur to you to talk about it to him.

“Well, I want it to be an intimate one. Just our… main family? Maybe close cousins. And then Chaeyoung, of course. Soonyoung, obviously. Jennie will probably come, I don’t mind her being invited.”

“And that’s it?”

“Don’t tease me.” You glare at him. “I know I don’t have a lot of friends. You’re one of them.”

“Wow. Getting friendzoned, aren’t I?”

You look at him in warning once again, and he knows to drop it and he ushers you to return to his arms with a laugh. And when you settle on his shoulder, he tells you to continue which you find a hard time answering.

“I want the theme to be… celestial. I don’t know. I’ve always liked the stars and the moons, you know that, right? I definitely don’t want it to be an outdoor wedding. Hmmm…”

“Tell you what,” he cuts your musing. “Tell me everytime it comes up in your head?”

“Everytime?”

“Everytime.”

You grin at him playfully, settling inside the blanket to ready yourself for bed now that you don’t have to talk about your dream wedding anymore. You were actually excited to talk about it with Wonwoo of all people, and you were a little afraid if you don’t talk about it now, the topic wouldn’t come up again and you’d miss an opportunity to talk about it with him.

“Don’t complain once I do that everytime, mister.” You playfully wiggle your finger at him.

“I will never.” He smiles, and your heart melts once again and you didn’t even know it was still possible for you to fall for his smile when you see it everyday. “Now go to bed and have a good night, okay?”

“Alright. Night, Won.”

You dream of a wedding beneath the moonlight with no one but you and him.

[✾✾✾]

[sent a picture]

Soooo pretty right? But it- still a little outdoory for me

Won🤍: How is it not gonna be outdoor-y if it's a glass house, princess?

Shut up

You told me to tell you everytime!!!

I didnt do this so u would get smart w me😠

Won🤍: Alright, alright. Sorry.

Won🤍: So which part of it did you like?

All the flowers and the glass ceiling 🥹

Just look at them ugh

[✾✾✾]

“Hey. Sorry, I was in a meeting.” Wonwoo calls you back immediately after he got back to his office, noticing a miss call from you and a text with a single picture attached with no other message. “Anything happened?”

“Ooh, the one with SVT Inc.?” You recall him telling you last night. “How did it go?”

“It went better than I expected. I'll tell you at home. What's up?”

You hum from the other side of the call before answering. “Umm. I was trying this new fine dining with Chaeyoung and their table decorations are to die for. Like. For real.”

“Yeah?” Wonwoo smiles, already knowing where this is going. “Tell me about it.”

The both of you know Wonwoo is bad when it comes to design; that you could be explaining things in the easiest way possible for people to imagine and Wonwoo would still not get it unless you show him a picture, which you did. Still, he doesn't actually have the eyes for them and he couldn't really tell what matches with what and what do you exactly mean by “the colors seamlessly blending with each other”.

But you like talking to Wonwoo and Wonwoo likes listening to you, so the conversation goes.

“Anyway, I just wanna say how pretty it was.” You conclude almost sheepishly. “But you told me to tell you everytime!!”

“I did.” He laughs through the phone, his posture relaxes more and more the longer he talks to you. It's almost like the tension from the day all dissipating into thin air just through your presence. “And I'm not complaining, am I?”

“Alright. See you at home?”

“See you at home.”

[✾✾✾]

“Oh my… look at that.” You sit up, a little in awe at the scene in front of you. You and Wonwoo are watching a movie together, some random movie on Netflix that you don't even remember the title of. But a wedding scene is playing out and you can't help but gasp at the beauty of it all. It's not entirely possible for an actual event to look like that, it's not practical and it's really just pretty.

Wonwoo hums and proceeds to do the same thing he always does, asks about which part you prefer from this wedding scene and listens to you talk about the technicality of it all and the details that you loved on the scene in front of you.

He never cuts you off as you talk about everything at once, and only comments once you pause or when you ask for his opinion. You don't mind this, because you know his silence doesn't mean he's not paying attention.

“Huh.” You suddenly stop mid sentence and turn to Wonwoo with furrowed brows, and he tilts his head in confusion. “What's your dream wedding?”

Wonwoo blinks, never expecting this question. He ponders for a few seconds as you wait patiently, now leaning on the sofa and never taking your eyes off him.

Your eyes are full of anticipation as he finally looks up and smiles at you, his arm moves from his lap to your shoulder and pulls you close to plant a quick kiss on your lips.

“With you as the bride.”

You’ve never cried faster in your life before.

[✾✾✾]

The wedding is in three months and, decoration wise, everything is almost settled.

“What do you think about this?”

“Hmmh. I like them. But would you mind changing the shade of the tablecloths to a slightly darker one? It would fit better with the overall ambiance of the hall decorations.”

“Of course!” Your mom happily agrees, her assistant taking notes of everything next to her. Mrs. Jeon agrees too, and you think they are just content with the fact that you have an opinion you don't mind sharing. It's always like this everytime you open your mouth and ask if it's okay to change some things, they would just agree without much fight and proceed with your opinions.

You think it's probably their way of compensating, still feeling bad for not being able to give you your dream wedding even though they've toned down on the apologetic look, which you greatly appreciate. On the contrary, they look more energetic these days, which you might guess has to do with the fact that the wedding is so close by at this point.

“What are you doing after this?” You ask once the discussion ends, your mom's assistant already back to her office.

“We want to try this new tea shop in Gangnam, actually. Want to join us?”

“Oh, the one Mrs. Song has just opened?”

“Yeah. She's been asking me to go but I didn't have the time. So I thought I'd just go with Mrs. Jeon here.”

“I see. Do you have time for dinner with me and Wonwoo after that?”

“Of course!” Your mom says a little too quickly, in which you share a look with Mrs. Jeon and laugh at her embarrassed expression. It's then that you realize you've never really invited her to meals and have only shared meals together when it's a formal occasion or when you're over at the family house.

It's sad, if you really think about it. But you've decided not to dwell on your past relationship with your parents anymore. It won't do you any good, and now that you know what to do, that's more than enough.

“Give me or Wonwoo a call when you're done?”

“Sure thing, dear. We'll see you at dinner?”

“Do invite Father & Uncle if they're available, we don't mind.”

Your mom looks like she's about to cry at this point, another thing you still have no idea how to react to. Though you awkwardly smile at Mrs. Jeon and quietly ask for help with your eyes yet again. And as always, she comes to the rescue, taking your mom by the arm and tells you goodbye before she actually cries.

It's hours later that you see her and Mrs. Jeon again in a Japanese restaurant, a craving you've been having since last week. You and Wonwoo arrive first, your mothers not long after.

“Feels like I haven't seen you in so long, son.” His mom greets him as she sits down on the seat opposite of her son. “Drop by the house soon?”

“It’s been busy, sorry. But I’ll make sure to drop by, Mom.” He nods to your mom in greeting, then asks them about what they were doing prior and if they had fun.

“Yeah, how was the tea shop?” You join in, dropping the menu on the table now that you've decided what to order.

“It was better than I expected.” Your mom starts. “You should go some time and try their scones. You like them, don't you?”

You actually do. And you think that's the first time your mom ever says something like this to you and gets it right. A lot of firsts today, but you're accepting them with open arms and refuse to think about them too much.

“I will, mom.” You smile. “Father and Mr. Jeon couldn't make it?”

Your mom nods with a sorry smile, and you shrug before you tell them not to worry about it. After you order, the wedding talk starts once again, this time about the cake and menu, as you wait for the food to come.

As usual, Wonwoo listens and doesn't talk much, because he's gotten a lot of updates from you already and has pretty much told you about his preferences if any.

“You'll both be present for the cake tasting next week, right?”

“Yes, Mom, don't worry. I'll actually be there for once.” He grins cheekily. “We actually invited you for dinner because of that: to thank you for taking care of our wedding. It must’ve taken a lot of your time and energy.”

“Yes, I’m sorry we couldn’t really participate more and if you feel like we’re making you do everything, but we’re really thankful you’re doing all of this.” You add.

“Nonsense. We’re happy to do it for you guys. Don’t be sorry, alright? We’re the ones who are sorry we couldn’t make it your dream wedding but–”

You whine, something that your mom hasn’t really seen a lot of, and she smiles to herself at that, a reminder of how you used to be as a kid and the times she missed as you grow up.

“Stop it, Mom. I told you it’s okay. I’m already beyond grateful that you’re doing all the wedding prep, asking for my dream wedding is just too much. Please, stop feeling guilty. I'm not that spoiled, I promise you.”

Knowing you’d rather change the topic, Mrs. Jeon turns to her son. “You should've stopped by every now and then, too. Why would you make your fiancée do everything?”

“She knows what I like, Mom.” He nudges you softly, to which both mom laughs. “She knows what I want for our wedding.”

With you as the bride.

The words ring once again in your head, and you bite your lip to contain the stupid smile threatening to bloom. How can he still make your heart flutter like never before after all this time? You look down to your phone to hide your smile, pretending to answer messages you don’t really care about.

“By the way, about what you asked for yesterday…”

Wonwoo looks at both women wide-eyed and shakes his head just enough time for you not to notice.

“Huh? You asked Auntie for something?” You try to rejoin the conversation, putting your phone back into your purse.

“Yeah. Remember that meat pie Mom used to make when we were in university? I was just craving for them.” He makes up something on the spot, which his mom nods at, adding that she's making sure if it's okay to make them next week.

“Ooooh! Yeah I remember them! Gosh, now that you say it, it's been long since we had them, huh? Why didn't you tell me you asked Auntie for some?”

“Must've passed my mind.” He smiles sheepishly, glancing at the women across him sharing a quiet laugh. Just in time, the beverage you order comes in and the topic stops there and moves to another thing.

Blissfully unaware, you miss the knowing glances shared between the three parties of the table, too busy raving on the pretty cocktails they're serving you.

[✾✾✾]

“Do you want to come to my wedding dress fitting?” You ask one night in the middle of your skin care routine, Wonwoo scrolling on his phone on his bed.

“Isn't that a thing? Not to let the groom see their bride on the wedding dress?”

A sudden silence blankets the room, and you two stare at each other like some kind of realization hits at the same time. That you’re really getting married to each other.

That you’re his bride and he’s your groom.

Wonwoo jumps in panic when he sees you tear up, but you cover your face in embarrassment and tell him to go away instead. Wonwoo laughs as he relaxes, though he engulfs you in a hug despite your whine. Your arms hug him back though, and you tighten your arms like he’d let go.

“We’re really getting married, huh?” He whispers against your head, to which you nod and sniffle at, still trying to calm yourself down. “I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah. We’re really getting married, aren’t we?”

“Getting cold feet?” He asks jokingly, but your answer is short and firm, making his heart beats louder than he thinks possible.

“Never.”

You stay like that for a bit, until it occurs to you that Wonwoo hasn’t replied to your question so you ask him again.

“I’ll pass.” He decides, wanting to spare himself the heart attack he would get seeing you in a wedding dress. There’s a chance he would faint anyway, but he’d rather not have several fainting episodes before the wedding. “You can send me pictures if you want? Or I don’t mind being surprised too, whatever you feel like at the time, okay?”

“Hmmmkay. I’ll see when it happens then.”

“You’re going to do a fitting for the cocktail dress too, right? Did you say Jennie helped with the designs for that?”

“Yeah. Mr. Jang and Jennie collaborated for the cocktail dress, I think they made two or three even though I told them one would be enough. But, well, I can always use the cocktail dress for other functions so it’s okay.”

“You’re most excited about this, aren’t you?”

You nod happily, finally getting out of his hold to grin at him. Your eyes are twinkling like a child in a toyshop. “You know I love my dresses. Jennie showed me some of the final sketches before, and apparently they’re almost done, just need to make sure that my size hasn’t changed. But she wouldn’t let me see the dresses because she wants me to just see it with my own eyes.”

His phone pings, which cues him to let go of you to let you finish your skin care routine then checks his notifications, pressing his lips together to hide his smile.

Park Chaeyoung : One is enough right???

Park Chaeyoung : How can I convince her though?

Just discuss with Jennie and Mr. Jang. They probably knew which one would look best on her, too.

Also, you’re her closest friend. You would know, I’m sure.

Park Chaeyoung : I hate you😭😭😭

Park Chaeyoung : This is too much of a responsibility!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You know it’s for her, though.

Park Chaeyoung : I still hate you

Park Chaeyoung : Be thankful I know how much she loves you!!

Thanks.

By the way, the YSL bag that you said was out of stock in every store in the country is being delivered to your place. Mr. Lee is delivering it to you himself, so let him up.

Park Chaeyoung : Perhaps I like you a little

[✾✾✾]

Yoon Jeonghan : were all ready on my side

Joshua Hong : im abt 95% done!!!

Joshua Hong : so all shud be ok and finish on time

Thanks guys.

You've worked hard.

Would it be okay for me to go and check a day before?

Joshua Hong : sure!!!!

Yoon Jeonghan : just say when you go

Yoon Jeonghan : ill drag her smwhere so she wont get suspicious

[✾✾✾]

Kwon Soonyoung sent a picture

Kwon Soonyoung : this ok?

Great.

Send your sister my greetings.

[✾✾✾]

Kim Jennie : Oh. You're so going to die ;)

???????????????

[✾✾✾]

“Everyone's so busy these days…” You complain over lunch, eating take outs in Wonwoo's office after his meeting because you're craving for some katsu place nearby. “You're busy. Chaeng’s busy. Jeonghan's busy. Shua's busy. Even Soonyoung is busy. What are you all even up to?”

He tenses a little, then apologizes and says perhaps it's just that time of the year. The year is about to end, and even though it's still the middle of October, things are already picking up. Plus, with Young Master Jeon and Young Miss Yoon getting married by the end of November, Wonwoo’s company and Shua's studio are trying their best to wrap as many things as possible before you and Wonwoo leave for honeymoon.

“You know what this reminds me of?”

“What?” He indulges you.

“That time when everyone's busy and only Soonyoung was possible.” That feels like a long time ago now, something that you both can look back and laugh at even though it hurt before. “You were babysitting Jennie.”

“And you fainted because I took my eyes away from you for like three seconds.”

“Stop exaggerating.”

“And now you're all buddy buddy with her.”

“Shut up.”

He laughs and you join soon after, the rest of your meal flows in the blink of an eye. Time works in a funny way when you're with him, and you wonder if it'll change once you get officially married despite all the time you already spend with him.

“The wedding is already next month, isn't it?”

“I know, right? Felt like it was just yesterday I proposed to you.”

Wonwoo pauses, and you look at him in question as he stares at you in silence.

“Did you know I cried that night?”

“...what?”

“Yeah.” He smiles to himself, putting down his chopsticks and replays that night once again in his head. He doesn't think he'd ever forget the way you look and the way you ask him that question. He's pretty sure sometimes he still dreams of you asking that, over and over again like a broken player that he doesn't want to get fixed. “After you fell asleep. I cried for a bit in the bathroom just in case you woke up.”

It's weird what goes over you upon the confession. Wonwoo doesn't cry easily, and even though you've seen him cry three or four times before, you've never thought he'd ever cry because of you. Knowing that he has… You can't even think of teasing him for it, your heart filling with love beyond its size upon realizing someone out there really loves you to the point of crying because you ask them to spend forever with you.

“Thank you for telling me.” You say, surprising him. “You already know I cried when you proposed even though I knew it was happening.”

“I heard you cried when you're trying out your wedding dress?”

“Who betrayed me?”

Wonwoo laughs at this, but tells you he's not naming anyone and he's definitely not teasing you about it.

“I will probably be crying too when I finally see you in the wedding dress.” He says easily, making your heart skip yet another beat at how effortlessly he spews those words.

Fuck Jeon Wonwoo.

[✾✾✾]

There's a party you're attending tonight. Jennie said it's some kind of party that she's hosting to celebrate her last line of designs before her expected return to Ruby Corp.

She has told you to wear one of the cocktail dresses you tried the other day: the white one that stops right above your knees. You love every detail of it: from the subtle way silver stars and moons decorate the seam of the dress, to the lace that is just enough without making it look tacky.

It accentuates your body in all the right ways, but if you look at it long enough, it looks somewhat like a mini wedding dress, which is why you decided against wearing it to the after party because you don't want both your dresses to be white. You’re not sure if it’s really okay to wear it before your wedding considering how much it resembles one, but Chaeyoung’s insistence and Jennie’s confirmation convinces you because you actually love it the most out of the other dresses, which is why you're kind of excited when Jennie told you it’s really okay to wear that one.

She has told you to get your makeup done at the salon, too, because she's invited a lot of media and she tells you it's okay to do a more glamorous makeup than what you're used to. You still want a natural one, but Chaeyoung once again convinces you to do more and you give in because she looks way too excited for some reason.

Currently at the salon with her, you've decided to try one of the hairstyles you want for your wedding. It's something you still haven't decided, but your wedding is in two weeks, and you suppose it wouldn't hurt to try out some of the simple hairstyles you're considering.

Your hair is styled to beautiful curls, half of your hair is up in a bun that's sprinkled with star accessories, making it look like there are stars scattered on your bun. Chaeyoung takes a picture of it and shows you, to which you squeal at because it's simply too cute.

Despite how much you like how you look, you feel a little over the top. But Chaeyoung reminds you it's a fashion party so there would probably be people who dress way more excessively and you're completely fine.

“Wonwoo's not answering my texts at all. Wonder if he's okay…” you frown at your phone, your text from this morning left unread and unanswered.

Chaeyoung hums, not seemingly bothered by your concern.

“Maybe he's just busy. Your wedding is in two weeks and you're leaving for honeymoon almost immediately. He's probably making sure he won't be bothered during then.” Her answer is a little too perfect to the point where you might consider it scripted, but you're a little too concerned about Wonwoo to think about it and you quietly agree with her despite how you feel.

“I haven't been able to reach Han and Shua either…”

“Looking for me?” A familiar voice greets you and you wave at Joshua who's already dressed for the party. “Sorry, got classes all day.”

“‘Skay. Where's Han?”

“I think he's in a meeting with your father. Something about a merger?”

“Huh…” You frown, trying to remember if there's any talk about a merger that you've heard before. But, then again, you haven't been involved in the company for about two years now, you're not always updated and it might even be about some sub company that you don't know existed. “Makes sense. Why are you here?”

“Jeonghan will be late to the party so I thought I'll drive with you.” He grins. “I don't want to arrive there alone.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“Seungcheol.”

“Of course.” You should've known, really. Seungcheol never fails to report to Wonwoo, Jeonghan, or Shua everytime they ask your whereabouts. “Why are you dressed like that? It's a fashion party, dude.”

“Heh.” He shrugs, not minding the way you frown at his suit, definitely too formal for Jennie's party. “I got too busy and didn't have time to look for a fashionable outfit.”

“You still have time to change.” You try to convince him, not wanting him to embarrass himself there. “We'll probably be done in thirty minutes.”

It's then that Joshua takes a good look at you, looking at you from head to toe as his eyes water a little, which he blinks away quickly before you even notice.

“You're beautiful.” He says, startling you at the sudden honesty.

He's looking at you so softly that you're a little unsure how to respond to that, so you take the easy way and joke it away.

“Thanks. Wait until you see me at my wedding.”

This seems to make him smile even wider, and he carefully pats your head before telling you he'd wait around and he's too bothered to change so you don't have to worry.

Exactly thirty minutes later, you're on your way to the venue with Chaeyoung and Joshua. You're still trying to reach Wonwoo, but your call wouldn't go through and your text is still unanswered. You tried texting Chan, but he simply tells you his boss is busy and hasn't been able to check his phone, that he'll remind him to text you once he's able to.

That's enough to tame down your worry a little, and remembering you have a party to go to, you decide to let go of it and try to get in the mood. Good thing you have Chaeyoung and Joshua with you.

The three of you arrive in front of the building about forty minutes later, and you wonder why it's a little too quiet remembering how much of a fuss Jennie made it to be. But perhaps it's because you're still in the lobby; the party is on the top floor, after all.

Once you get to the very top level and you get off the elevator, it's still very much quiet, which makes you a little suspicious. But there's no reason for you to be suspicious of Jennie, so you ask instead if you're at the right place.

Just as they're about to answer, the lights go off and you jump at the pitch dark you suddenly find yourself in. You call for your companies and try to reach for them, but they're nowhere and you start to panic when something soft drapes over your eyes.

It's a blindfold, you register. A silk one by the feel of it, but that's not important because why are you blindfolded and you're trying to fight whoever's behind you.

“Trust me, okay?” Joshua’s comforting voice echoes against the empty corridor, and you relax a little as thousand different scenarios enter your mind. If there’s anyone you can trust, it’s Joshua, so when you feel his hand clasping yours and he leads you forward with Chaeyoung following close behind, you walk despite the way your heart is beating a million beats per second.

But when you hear the door open and close again, dark still engulfing you even after Joshua says you're allowed to take it off, what you find in front of your eyes once the light goes back on is beyond your imagination.

You see Wonwoo on the other side of the aisle, presumably smiling at you even though you can't really tell due to your vision getting blurry.

You take your time to look around the room, a glass ceiling displaying the night sky with the moon right above you, there are roughly only six tables in the beautiful room, decorated by your favorite flowers, your favorite color scheme, and every single thing you've mentioned to Wonwoo all that time. Somehow, even the stars are more visible than they have ever been.

“Princess?” You register your father's voice, his arm slightly open for you to take, and you don’t remember the last time his eyes stared at you with such gentleness. “Let's go. Wonwoo is waiting.”

You nod despite your unshed tears and your confusion, and as you walk down the short aisle and get to the end of it, you spare a few seconds to look at who's present. And upon realizing that they're all the people that are dear to you and Wonwoo, your eyes tear up once again at the realization of what's really happening.

“I told you I would do everything for you, right?” He whispers as you meet his eyes, trying his best to keep it together because, fuck, you look so beautiful it doesn't make sense. “I hope this is how you imagined your dream wedding to be.”

Before you can answer, the officiant, Yoon Jeonghan, cuts you off and proceeds to start the wedding ceremony. You can't even concentrate on anything, only focusing on Wonwoo and everything he's done for you.

Your brain is starting to put pieces together: the dress Jennie made you, the way your mothers seem less guilty, everyone being busy–how did he convince everyone to do this for you when they're all busy as hell?

Wonwoo starts his wedding vow, and you realize you'd have to do it too but you don't have anything prepared because you literally didn't know it was happening. You considered using the vow you're planning to use on your… well… wedding day, but you think that might not be fitting for this special day.

Your day.

“First of all. Thank you to all of you here who have scammed me and betrayed me by helping Wonwoo.” You pretend to glare at them, to which they all laugh to because despite your words, you look the happiest they've ever seen you be. You’re glowing, despite the tears that are threatening to fall and the way you’re trying your best to hold back a sob. “I… I'll save the lengthy vow for the wedding in two weeks and I'll make this quick. I've gathered that a lot of you probably helped Wonwoo in this, and I want to thank you for all the time and effort you've put into this–and even somehow hiding it from me to the point where it didn't even occur to me to be suspicious of any of you. I've always wanted my wedding to be a small one shared by the people who matter, like all of you here, and to know that everyone of you are involved somehow… thanks for making anyone who might surprise me in the future fall short to this. And to Wonwoo…”

You finally look at him in the eye, both your eyes tearing up as you share a moment between you two. You try to calm yourself down, and you grip his hands harder before you sob right then and there.

“Thank you for making my dream come true. You should know that as long as it's with you, it's my dream wedding already.”

Jeonghan takes the cue to announce you as husband and wife, and as your lips meet under the night sky, you could've sworn the moon has never looked so bright before tonight.

[✾✾✾]

✾BONUS✾

“You look so beautiful, dear.” Mrs. Jeon softly dabs her eyes with tissue to stop her tears from falling down.

“Thank you so much Aun–uh…” You pause mid sentence only now realizing she's no longer just Auntie for you. “Mom…?”

She cries when you call her that, and Mr. Jeon laughs at how dramatic his wife is being, though he officially welcomes you to the family as he tries to calm her down.

“Wonwoo made you both work overtime, huh?” You joke, but your mom shakes her head and mentions they volunteered for it when he brought up the idea. Your fingers, clasped around Wonwoo's, tighten, and his thumb caresses your knuckle as if reminding you to calm down. “Thank you so… so much. Wonwoo couldn't have done it without you guys.”

“I know. My son sucks at making events.” Mrs. Jeon adds, already calmed down. “But at least he has the head to think about this.”

“Alright, Mom. Thanks for your compliment.” He rolls his eyes in a joking manner, though he drops a kiss on her cheek and sincerely thanks your mom too for making the ceremony possible. “And thank you… uhh…”

You giggle at the same predicament Wonwoo finds himself in, but surprisingly it's your father who speaks up.

“You're our son, now. Call us Mom and Dad, Mother and Father, whichever you prefer.” He offers a small smile, which startles you because you did not expect this at all. You know he's happy you're getting married to the Jeons, but there's another kind of happiness in his eyes that you haven't seen in a really long time. “You've always taken care of our daughter, even when we're not able to. Continue to do it, alright? I'm glad she has you in her life.”

Wonwoo hides his smile and excuses the both of you to greet the other tables, and when you come to Shua, Jeonghan, Jinyoung, Jisoo, Jennie, Chaeyoung, and Soonyoung's table, you finally burst into tears even though you meant to pretend to be angry at them for deceiving you.

You blink repeatedly in hope your tears would vanish behind your eyes, but it's hard to do that when it's your father saying this. It's a confession you did not expect happening, but a part of you is relieved it did, and when your father pats your cheek and tells you not to cry, you nod despite the tears pooling in your eyes.

"Yes, Father. I'm glad I have her in my life, too."

Jinyoung and Jeonghan laugh, but the rest of the table panics and even the other tables are amused at your sudden emotional episode, nothing but adoration filling their eyes.

“How–how could you guys do this to me?!” You say between sobs, Wonwoo grinning sheepishly to anyone whose eyes he meets on apology even though he knows no one actually minds.

“How dare you guys not say a thing!”

“We made sure you look your best, though.” Chaeyoung squeaks, to which you glare at before you break away from Wonwoo and engulf her in a hug. Then Chaeyoung starts crying too, and soon so are Jennie and Jisoo, and even Lisa and a few members of the studio who you've gotten very close with start crying on their table.

“I love you so much.” She whispers as she hugs you tighter. “I'm happy you found each other even though you've known each other since forever.”

“I love you too.” You kiss her cheek, careful not to ruin her makeup and yours. “Thank you for making sure I look my best on my wedding that I wasn't aware was happening.”

You look up to the rest of the table, take turns to hug each and everyone of them because all of them are apparently in on it; Chaeyoung and Jisoo with the overall preparation, Jennie with the dress, Soonyoung with the catering, Jeonghan with the venue, and Joshua with the flowers.

“You don't deserve a hug because you didn't help but I will hug you because of Jisoo.” You narrow your eyes at Jinyoung.

“Hey! Who do you think helped your little husband here and convince him it's okay to do all this?” He teases you both and drops a quick kiss on your head.

Husband.

You look at Wonwoo, who seems to be stuck in the same word as you do. You share a look, and then smile at the same time and Wonwoo squeezes your hand until Jeonghan puts a stop to the serene moment and breaks it up.

“”Kay. That's enough. You both are too sappy. Let's move on to the first dance.” He shoos you both to the dance floor, and you laugh through your tears as Wonwoo takes your hand and leads you to the dance floor, right in the middle of the room beneath the night sky.

You look up once again, the moon exactly above you and him as you move together with the music. Your eyes are glassy the moment you find Wonwoo's which are also glassy, you don't try to hide your smile though, and you share that moment between you two, uncaring about the rest of the guests staring at you two.

Wonwoo leans down to kiss you square on the lips, and you press your lips back to his, the both of you smiling into the kiss.

“Hey, husband.” You whisper with a giggle, still shy with the title.

“Hey, wife.” He bumps his forehead into yours. “The moon is very beautiful tonight, isn't it?”

“Yeah.” You agree, your thumb caresses the apple of his cheek. “The moon is indeed very beautiful tonight."

[✾✾✾]

A/N: happy new year! idk if i'll be writing a lot this year but we'll see ig? i didnt think this would reach more than 5k lol. do talk to me if you enjoy this <3

#wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo fluff #khione.fics #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen au #seventeen fic #seventeen scenario #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #wonwoo au #wonwoo imagines

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dirtyvulture · 10 months

Text

Something’s in the Air - Part 1

Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: Natasha returns from a mission after being exposed to a chemical that makes her extremely, extraordinarily feral for you.

Word count: 2362

AN: Here is the opening act of the long-awaited collaboration with @jedi-luca! Enjoy, sinners!

Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

Natasha races down the empty hallway, trying to ignore the blaring alarms and flashing lights overhead. She can’t read any of the symbols marking the doors, and all she knows is that she’s looking for one with a triangle in the center of three overlapping circles, like a variation on the classic biohazard sign.

“You find him yet, Nat?” Clint buzzes in her earpiece.

“Not yet,” she responds.

“Well, you’ve only got about another minute before HYDRA agents flood the building–”

“I know!” she snaps, her eyes finally settling on a triangle surrounded by three circles. “I found it!”

“Get him and let’s go!”

Natasha doesn’t need to be told twice, and she inputs the ten-digit code into the keypad on the door. It lights green to grant her access and she steps into a tiny, square room, no bigger than a broom closet, the heavy steel door automatically closing behind her.

“Uh oh,” she says when she hears the door click shut.

Suddenly, a white smoke starts to fill the tiny room, jetting out from the piping running along the walls and ceiling. Natasha covers her mouth with her arm, fumbling on her belt for a proper mask. The smoke stings her eyes and burns her throat, but the initial shock of pain is quickly overtaken by a warm, fuzzy feeling. Natasha staggers back into the wall, not even feeling the impact of the solid concrete as her stomach clenches in a way that’s familiar and foreign at the same time.

But just as quickly as it had started, the pipes stop pumping out the gas and it clears away through the vents. She wipes at her watering eyes and sees a door in front of her with no lock. More cautiously this time, she opens it and finds herself staring down a young boy behind a glass wall.

“Clint, I found him.”

***********************************************************************

Natasha safely extracts the boy, wrapping him up in a ragged blanket she found on his bed, and carries him out in a bundle. She meets Clint just in time before the HYDRA agents realize their base has been compromised. They leave the boy in the custody of a SHIELD van and six agents. Natasha gives him a chocolate before they part ways. Her and Clint escape on the Quinjet, only breathing a sigh of relief once they are safely hidden amongst the clouds.

“When I was trying to get him, I got sprayed with something,” she tells him in a low voice.

“With what?” Clint doesn’t take his eyes off the dashboard.

“I don’t know.”

“You seem fine.”

As if on cue, the same sharp pain that she experienced upon first inhaling the smoke punches her stomach again and she doubles over.

“Shit,” she curses, trying to massage out the ache and feeling her cheeks flame in embarrassment when she finally realizes what the pain reminds her of. Although she wouldn’t describe it as a pain, but that feeling of being so aroused she wants to burst.

“Nat?”

“Uh, never mind,” she says, not wanting to get into details with him.

“I’ll call ahead and have Dr. Cho ready to see you in the medical bay,” he says.

“I–Wait, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Natasha says, but Clint won’t listen to her, he’s already typing out a message to send to the doctor.

Natasha grumbles wordlessly and takes the seat next to Clint, glancing back to make sure the boy is okay. She isn’t sure about why HYDRA had him or why SHIELD made such a point to send in some of their best Avengers to free him. But sometimes, the less details they knew the better, and now she had to worry about what exactly had been in that smoke.

She takes her phone out from the backpack under the chair and sends you a text. But it’s almost three in the morning, so her text goes unanswered. With another 30 minutes until they’re home, Natasha boredly scrolls back up in the conversation, her attention caught by some of the old pictures you’ve sent her.

The first one she looks at is probably the most innocent of the bunch, a slightly blurred snapshot of you post-workout, your skin gleaming with sweat and your muscles pumped. Natasha bites her lip as her eyes trace down the veins on your stomach, following their path to the waistband of your shorts, which is not quite low enough to reveal perhaps her favorite body part of yours.

She quickly skips to the next picture, which is much more scandalous and should not be viewed in a public setting, but luckily Clint is sitting in front of her. You’re lying down, the camera positioned down towards your muscular legs, but Natasha’s attention is drawn to the thick cock you have your hand wrapped around. Her center clenches around nothing; Natasha wishes she had your length inside of her, ramming into her hard and fast, until you came undone and pumped your seed deep into her womb.

“Fuck,” she mutters to herself, crossing one leg over the other, trying to alleviate the pulsing at her core and failing. There was still so much time left until they landed, she didn’t know how she was going to survive. Out of pure desperation, she considers touching herself (still in the vicinity of where Clint can hear her, but he can turn his hearing aid down, can’t he?) right there in the Quinjet, and it takes all of her mental strength to keep her hands on her knees. She doesn’t know what’s gotten into her, why she’s so horny all of a sudden.

All she knows is if she doesn’t have you inside her in the next hour, she may actually die.

Using her advanced Red Room torture resistance techniques, Natasha barely clings to her sanity for the next 30 minutes. She grinds herself subtly on her seat, although it does next to nothing to ease the ache in her stomach.

“Can’t you fly faster?” she asks Clint eventually through gritted teeth. “It’s not like there’s any traffic in the sky.”

“I’m doing my best,” Cint responds.

“Well, going a little faster would be nice.”

Clint doesn’t bite back at her even though he wants to. Overall, Natasha seems okay even after her exposure to the unknown gas, but Clint knows his best friend better than herself. Something is bothering her–badly–and she doesn’t want to talk about it, which means it can only be one thing.

Natasha wants to cry in relief when the iconic “A” of the Avengers Tower comes into view. She practically hijacks the controls from Clint trying to land the plane faster, but just before she can sprint out of the Quinjet, Clint grabs onto her.

“You have to see Dr. Cho first,” Clint says sternly, holding onto her arms in a vice grip.

“I don’t want to see the doctor. I want Y/N,” Natasha says, almost in tears. Her core is practically on fire at this point and she wouldn’t be surprised if her panties are ruined.

“Y/N will be there,” Clint assures her, dragging her to the elevator and going one floor down. Despite the early hour, Dr. Cho waits sleepily to greet them at the entrance of the medical bay. Natasha practically throws a fit as Dr. Cho escorts her to a private room, while Clint disappears without an explanation.

“I’m fine, Doctor,” Natasha insists as Dr. Cho has her sit down on the edge of the plastic bed.

“Agent Barton said you may have been exposed to some unknown chemical,” Dr. Cho says, shining a bright penlight into her eyes and opening her mouth to examine her tongue and tonsils.

“I’m fine,” Natasha repeats, shifting agitatedly and crinkling the white paper covering the bed.

Dr. Cho squints at her. “I’ll be back to run some more tests,” she says, disappearing with a flip of her white lab coat.

Natasha groans and falls back on the bed, unzipping the collar of her uniform down to her chest, flapping her hands to cool her face. She thinks back to the pictures of you she looked at on her phone and before she can even stop herself, sticks her hands down her pants, ignoring how unusually wet she is, her fingers gliding through her soaked folds to press into herself.

“Fuck,” she mutters, kicking her legs wider to find a more comfortable position. Natasha can easily fit three fingers into herself already, a feat that normally takes some working up to, although it pales in comparison to the size of your cock. She pants at the thought of you on top of her, your body hot and heavy against hers, the feeling of your muscles flexing as you devote your strength to pleasuring her. She clenches hard around her fingers, trying to imagine them as your cock instead, hard and throbbing, stretching her apart in the best of ways and filling her better than any toy or substitute can.

Suddenly, there is a knock on her door and Natasha pauses mid-thrust.

“Nat? Babe, it’s me,” your croaky voice says on the other side.

“Come in!” she responds.

You open the door, still in your pajamas. Clint had called you until you woke up, telling you that while the mission had been a success, Natasha had come down with something and you needed to see her immediately. Without properly dressing, you staggered down to the medical bay, worried about your girlfriend despite your own exhaustion and delirium from being woken up at three in the morning.

And now you stare at her, jaw dropped, as Natasha is lying on the hospital bed, her hand disappearing down her shorts, her forehead covered in a light layer of sweat.

“Are you–” you start.

“I need you,” she begs, removing her hand and your heart thumps when you see that it is completely soaked in her slick. “Y/N, please, I need you.”

“What happened?” you ask, as your legs seem to have a mind of their own and gravitate to her side. Natasha reaches out for you, her hand twisting in the front of your shirt to draw you closer. She tugs it up, trying to shove her hand into the waistband of your shorts next and you stop her gently. “Nat.”

“I got sprayed with something while I was trying to free the subject,” she says, clawing at your abs. “At first it didn’t seem to affect me, but when we were on the way back, I just felt this overwhelming need…for you.”

“For me?”

She nods, biting her lip and looking at you with her bedroom eyes. Suddenly, your whole body lights awake, and you strip out of your shirts and shorts, climbing on the bed with Natasha and the structure squeaks under your added weight. Natasha pulls you on top of her, frantically wiggling out of her suit so she can feel you skin-to-skin. She kisses you ferociously, bruising your lips and clacking her teeth against yours, but you respond with equal enthusiasm, not really sure why she’s so desperate for you all of a sudden but not going to complain either.

You roll your hips in a gyrating motion, dragging your hardening cock along the insides of her slick thighs, unable to help yourself when you let out a moan at her impressive wetness. You’ve never seen her so ready for you, and you know you’ll have no trouble slipping inside.

“Fuck, fuck,” Natasha pants, dragging her nails along the muscular planes of your back and gripping onto your butt. “Stop teasing, baby,” she begs, trying to guide you to her entrance but you hold back.

“I haven’t even gone in and you’re already going to cum,” you point out, although you’re surprisingly close yourself, seeing how turned on your girlfriend is for you. You look down to see your cock shining with her wetness, the veins on it throbbing.

“I can’t cum without you,” Natasha says, and you lose all patience and discipline. You line yourself up with her entrance and push in hard, moaning when wet velvet wraps around your cock and Natasha moans in absolute relief at finally being filled. You pound into her, the muscles in your thighs and abs flexing like steel bands. Natasha keens as she takes you, knowing that you’re the only one who can bring her to a high that will have her entire body shaking, her lungs screaming, her nails marking red lines down your shoulders and back that everyone will see when you go to the gym tomorrow.

“God, Nat, you’re so wet,” you say between thrusts, using all your strength to hold yourself upright, when Natasha’s pussy is so tight and hot around you that your thighs are trembling and you can’t focus on anything other than the heat between your legs. You want to last longer, so you broaden your strokes, slowing down your pace but burying yourself even deeper with each thrust.

“Yes, just like that,” Natasha moans as the head of your cock presses against her sensitive walls. “Keep going, baby. Don’t stop.” She wants you to be buried to the hilt when you release her load, she wants to drain you of every drop you have to offer.

“Almost…there…” you grunt, squeezing her hips tighter as you pin her against the bed. The ball of arousal in your stomach burns hotter as you near your peak, and Natasha knows your body well enough to sense that your finish is near. She pulses around you harder and you drop your head against her breasts, panting like you’re running the last mile of a marathon. “Nat, Nat I’m gonna–”

It takes one more powerful thrust that causes the entire hospital bed to collapse under your combined weight. You jerk your hips forward as your cum shoots out of your cock in short, hard bursts. Natasha practically cries in relief as you fill her to the brim.

At the same second all of this is happening, Dr. Cho comes back into the room. She says nothing, only nodding in immediate understanding and quickly backing out.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Part 2 by @jedi-luca is here!

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content.

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader

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ginevrapng · 7 months

Text

studying with your boyfriend is something you love but also hate. he's a great teacher and explains everything that you don't understand or that professors haven't explained to you the right way for you to understand but you also don't like studying with neville because he's so hot when he's tutoring you that it's distracting.

the whole time neville will be trying to help you with your exam next week you'll be wanting to snog him and find a quiet and dark place in the library to suck his dick.

"are you listening flower?" he asks when you haven't made any input to the conversation. honestly you're not, you're watching the way his eyebrows furrow as he crosses out a misspelling and how he's rolled his jumper up to his forearms. his lip is slightly jutting out and you want to reach over to him and grab his face and kiss him until you're both dizzy.

he looks over to you to see you staring at his lips and smirks. he knows that look on you well. "not now petal, we've got to get this all done," he tells you softly but sternly.

you really should listen, you know he's right but you can't pay attention when he's looking so attractive. "nev please, i need you so bad," you whine, hoping he'll give in and forget about the exam in favour of making out with you.

neville looks back up from his work to you and sighs starting to get exasperated with those puppy dog eyes and pleading words. "i said no."

some people in gryffindor still think of neville as this clumsy, shy and timid boy but he's changed, so when your boyfriend talks like that it's hard to go against him so you shut your mouth, at least for awhile.

neville sees your antsy behaviour and distracted self and decides to do something about it. "you're so needy petal, can't even spend a few hours concentrating without you trying to fuck me."

you pout at him, not realising that you weren't being convincing after he told you to start studying again. "i didn't do anything neville, promise," you say while looking down and playing with the hem of your skirt.

neville follows your eyes and then gets an idea on how to handle his girlfriend. "petal sit on my thigh."

your eyes widen in realisation. "neville we can't do that, not here," you whisper. whipping your head around the library you see that you're the only ones around and you are also in the back of the library but you still believe it to be to dangerous.

"thought you said you were needy?" you bit your lip in thought, he knows what you'll do. "haven't got all day flower." after that you slide out of your chair and stand in front of neville silently asking him where he wants you to sit. "come on, so you're facing me." you shyly nod your head and rest on his thigh.

neville places a delicate kiss on your temple and speaks lowly into your ear, "love you flower." at the same time he grabs hold of your soft hips and starts to drag your body against his thigh.

as you move more against neville's thigh you know that your knickers are getting wetter and they'll probably be a stain on his trousers if this goes on for long.

neville chose this so he could keep working if necessary but he's forgotten all about it. he can't help but drop everything to focus all his attention on you, it's impossible for him not to. he adores you and right now he's getting incredibly hard after hearing your small panting and feeling your doughy skin underneath his big palms. neville simply doesn't know where to look, at your quickly rising and falling chest that's pressed against him or your plush thighs that he can see now that your skirt has ridden up higher or your cute face scrunched up in pleasure.

you've wrapped your arms around neville's neck and you bury your face into his chest every time you feel a particularly loud moan about to leave your mouth. neville pushes some of your hair out of your face as you're beginning to get sweaty and kisses you all over your face.

his trousers get tighter and you increase your pace with the help and guidance of neville. your clit gets pressed against him constantly with the friction and you're losing all sense of how to talk. "nev, plea-, i- i feels s'good," you whine.

neville smirks, his whole confident aura is making you fuzzy. "alright petal, i've got you. hold on tightly to my neck." you nod frantically and hold on tighter. he sinks his fingers even deeper into your plush body, definitely leaving bruises. he flexes his thigh again, angles your body in the right way so that every time you move your clit gets stimulation and starts to move your body up and down, completely controlling your pace.

it's been a couple minutes as you start to form a new sentence "neville, i-"

neville already knows you're about to finish, you started clawing his neck and biting your lip harder trying to stifle any noise. "come f'me petal." you do, the coil building inside of you snaps and you see white. neville shoves his tongue in your mouth and kisses you, muffling your moan. your body shivers and you push your body up against his even more.

you take a couple minutes to breathe and afterwards shakily get off of neville. he holds onto your wrist to stabilise you and groans as he sees the aftermath you've left on his trousers. he takes a glance at the table with all your books on and mumbles 'fuck it' and starts shoving both of your work into his bag. neville's heart melts as he looks up to your cute confused face. "let's head back to my room petal." your face lights up as you remove your wrist from his hand and intertwine your fingers together, you start swinging both your hands as you walk out the library.

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farfaras · 1 year

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First part to this prompt I posted the other day. This is gonna be eventual steddie (sorry, stonathan) and I’m really excited. Title from the song ‘nonsense’ by Sabrina Carpenter.

I think I got an ex but I forgot him

Part 1. (You’re here)

Part 2.

If he heard the words: Robin and in love, in the same sentence, with the melodious voice of one Dustin Henderson, one more time. Steve was sure he was gonna lose it.

Listen, he understands where he’s coming from. The kid just wants him to be happy. But he is! Dustin just doesn’t seem to get that. Happiness doesn’t only come in the form of a relationship. His teenage brain can’t comprehend that fact just yet. He wishes he did though, because he’s absolutely insufferable about getting Steve and Robin together.

No excuse or explanation he gives is good enough. Dustin still insists that he needs to try, that this is his chance at true love. Robin is kind of the love of his life, sure, but the platonic love of his life. His best friend, his soulmate, sister from another mister. All that jazz. Dustin doesn’t buy it though.

And Steve’s tried everything! He even told Dustin about that time in starcourt when they were high off his asses. Told him that he confessed his crush to Robin but that she rejected him, and that they were best friends now and nothing else. He obviously left out the part where Robin came out to him. He’s never gonna reveal Robin’s secret to anyone. The only answer he got was that “It doesn’t even matter now! Things could’ve changed! You never know.” Steve knew. He knew that he would never be into his best friend like that, and she would never be into him. Apparently they were the only ones who knew that.

Because of all the fuss Dustin was constantly making, other people started giving their input. Thanks Dustin. They didn’t get it either, didn’t believe they were just Platonic with a capital P. They made sure they knew it too, the whole party, Nancy, Jonathan, Eddie. Not Argyle, he said that the energy between Steve and Robin was intense but completely friendly, almost like they were twins. Steve liked Argyle. Of course he had to be miles away.

Most of their friends dropped the subject after the second time Steve or Robin explained the nature of their relationship. Even if they weren’t convinced, they didn’t push. Except for one person. Yep. Dustin.

Who was currently harassing Steve at his job. He didn’t know what else to tell him. If family video wasn’t empty he would just ignore him to do his job but there was nothing to do. He couldn’t even sweep or anything because everything was already done.

“Okay well! There must be a good reason why you guys haven’t gotten together!” Dustin exclaimed. He is so fucking stubborn.

“I already told you, Henderson. We’re. Just. Friends.” He knew it wasn’t gonna do anything. It was just a routine at this point.

Dustin’s expression changed to determination. “Nuh uh. There’s a reason there. And I’m gonna find out!” Shit. Could Dustin figure out Robin? He doesn’t think so. But he’s starting to panic. What if he finds out? Robin doesn’t deserve that. He’d feel like it was his fault, and everything would go to shit.

“Okay! Okay! There is a reason.”

“I knew it! You have to tell me.” Dustin demanded. Well, Steve hasn’t thought that much ahead. He needs to come up with something and he needs to do it fast if Dustin is gonna believe it.

“Look, I haven’t told anyone this before.” Building suspense, nice.

Then, an idea popped into his head and it seemed like the perfect response to all of this. Or maybe it’s the only thing he could think of in such short notice. “I’m gay.” He blurts out. It made sense in his head, really. Robin doesn’t get outed, but she can still look at the reaction she might get when she comes out. (It doesn’t hold any kind of truth at all. Not one Steve can see right now at least.)

Dustin is just staring at him. “What? I don’t, you’re not, since when?”

“Since I was born?” It sounds like a question. Steve didn’t prepare for follow up questions to the reply he literally just crafted.

“There’s no way you’re gay.” At least he didn’t seem disgusted or upset? Is this a good or bad reaction?

“Are you not okay with it?” Steve dared to ask.

“What?! Of course I’m okay with it, I’m just. I don’t care, but you don’t really seem gay. It’s hard to believe.” At least he’s okay with it. He’s still being stubborn.

“Way to stereotype, Henderson.”

Dustin sputters. “Wha- can you even blame me? Who could believe you?”

The next words that came out of Steve’s mouth didn’t actually ask for permission to be said. “My boyfriend can believe it.” He said it so matter of fact that he surprised himself a little. The way he usually took the route of action before thinking was gonna bite him in the ass some day. Would that be today?

“Boyfriend?!! And you didn’t tell me? You don’t have a boyfriend!” He accused Steve. “Who is it?”

Oh. Shoot. Quick, brain. Who could be his boyfriend? Someone his age, that was single, and could be believed to be in a gay relationship.

“It’s Jonathan.” Why did he say that? He just broke up with Nancy, that would just seem like a messy situation. Also is he literally just doing what he scolded Dustin for and stereotyping?

“But he just broke up with Nancy.” Hmm. Did Dustin read his mind or something.

“It’s new. That’s why I haven’t told anyone.”

“Not even Robin?” Oh, crap. Is he gonna have to tell this to people? Well, he should probably tell Jonathan first that he is apparently in a relationship with him now.

“Not even Robin.” Dustin beamed at this.

“You know, even if you and Jonathan are kind of a weird sounding couple, and this is surprising… if you’re happy then I’m happy for you, Steve.” That was weirdly sweet of Dustin.

“Thanks, bud.”

After that and renting a movie, Dustin was on his way. He gave Steve a hug goodbye and hopped on his bike to go home.

Steve had a lot of things to get done now. And he hoped that the first one went well because he didn’t really have a plan B if it didn’t. What had he gotten himself into?

First things first. Asking Jonathan to be his fake boyfriend.

At least for a while.

What could go wrong?

Step 1. Get Jonathan to be his fake boyfriend.

Step 2. Probably get Robin in on it?

He’s not sure about that one. This situation was kind of embarrassing, he’d rather just share his embarrassment with the one person who is absolutely necessary. Also Robin doesn’t seem like the type to lie to their friends. Even if it was harmless.

Step 2. Probably get Robin in on it?

Step 2. Make a game plan.

They’d probably need to talk about how this was gonna go. Get all their facts straight in case there were any questions, which there were going to be. Plan how long this was gonna be for. He was getting a bit ahead of himself, but there was no plan B.

Step 3. Hope it’s believable.

He was already outside of the Hopper-Byers home. This shouldn’t be hard, Jonathan is a pretty understanding guy. He wouldn’t judge Steve, or make fun of him. At least that’s what Steve hoped. They’ve been developing a friendship for a while. Which has been going surprisingly well. Fuck. Was this gonna mess it up?

He got out of his car and walked to the door, knocking. El answered the door, she gave him a smile and let him in.

“Is Jonathan home?” Him asking for Jonathan wasn’t a rare occurrence nowadays, so El just nodded and pointed to his room.

He knocked to make his presence known. “Hey, Jon?” He opened the door and stepped inside the room.

“Hiya. What’s up, Harrington?” Jonathan grinned at Steve. Ah. Shit. He didn’t look completely sober. Must’ve smoked something earlier.

“Well, I wanted to talk to you. I’d rather wait until you sober up though.” Jonathan just gave him a thumbs up.

“Happy to have company.” Steve knew Jonathan was having trouble dealing with the break up. They had been together for a while and he thought that those two were gonna beat all the odds and marry each other or something. Maybe they still could find their way back to each other someday. Right now though, it probably sucked.

Nancy was off to college, Jonathan stayed here in Hawkins doing community college. There was no way of knowing how Nancy was taking it, she barely called and when she did it was kinda cut and dry. Although Steve supposed that was a way of telling she wasn’t doing so good either.

They hung out, doing nothing in particular. Just talking, listening to music and Steve sobering him up.

“Did you say you wanted to talk about something?” Jon asked. He looked sober now. Or as sober as his perpetual stoner face could look.

“Yeah… I kinda did something stupid.”

“Don’t we all.” Cute. Was he trying to make him feel better? It would’ve worked if what he did wasn’t as stupid as it was.

“No, seriously. I think this is the dumbest thing I have done.” Understatement.

“It can’t be that bad.” Jon’s words weren’t aligned with his face because it looked like he was starting to worry.

“It has something to do with you too.” With those words, Steve definitely made Jonathan start to worry. “Hear me out first!”

Retelling the events from earlier was excruciating. Steve has never felt this embarrassed before. It sounded so dumb saying it out loud.

“You really couldn’t come up with anything else? Like oh I don’t know. Saying you don’t like Robin like that?” It was like he wasn’t even listening.

“I tried that thousands of times! He wouldn’t buy it!”

“Why haven’t you just dated anyone else? To prove that you’re not hung up on her?” Interesting line of questioning. Honestly, it’s been a long time since someone has made him feel anything at all. No girl caught his attention like before. Has the upside down messed him up so bad that he can’t form romantic connections anymore?

“I just, I don’t really. Taking a break from dating sounded good to me.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” Jon didn’t believe him, whatever.

“Look I just panicked, spoke without thinking.”

“You know, I actually thought that Dustin was right about you and Robin before. But if you’re so determined to prove you’re not, to even come up with something like that.” Steve hated this. Was Jonathan getting a kick out of this?

“Are you amused? I’m kinda suffering here.” Steve lamented. “Can you just please help me?

“Oh god, what do you expect me to do? Pretend to date you to get Dustin off your back?” Yes. Please.

“Look! I only ask for a few weeks! It doesn’t have to be for long. Just, a few weeks of fake dating and then just say it didn’t work out and we decided to stay friends. All that cheesy stuff.” God, he was not being convincing at all.

Jonathan still looked skeptical. But at least he was considering it now. “I’ll owe you, big time. Whatever favor you want.” Steve offered.

Jon looked resigned now. He huffed out a breath. “I never thought my first boyfriend was gonna be Steve Harrington.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I always pictured a nerd or maybe a stoner.” He was confused now. Was Jonathan? “Yes, Steve. You should probably know if we’re gonna do this. I also like guys. And I’m assuming you’re okay with it, considering what you just asked.”

“Of course! Thanks for telling me. I’m glad you could trust me.” He was being genuine. Even if Steve was a little surprised, and now felt even more guilty about words he used in the past to insult Jonathan. All the past apologies seemed insufficient. Even so, he was happy that their friendship could develop into this.

“So? How is this gonna work? You really owe me now, you know.”

“Trust me, I know.”

So their friendship wasn’t ruined. Who knows? Maybe this could make it stronger.

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literaila · 2 months

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how do u think satoru would react to reader in a depressive episode, especially what do u think the kids would do

obviously, they’ve all noticed.

the past couple of weeks have not been lived through ignorantly. and you have not been acting normal.

the differences are just that, at first. tiny inconsistencies in your otherwise normal personality, your routine.

and then it becomes more than just a… change.

it starts off simple; megumi’s brows furrowing when you ask him a question—something about his teacher, or what kind of drink he wants in his lunch that day—and then forget what you’ve just said as soon as he answers.

tsumiki watching, smiling along idly, as you rub your temples, sighing with every other sentence and squeezing your eyes tight like you’ll be able to wake up if you try hard enough.

and satoru noticing when you linger in your room a bit longer, as the days pass. staring when you freeze looking at the wall in the morning, zoning out so hard that he has to shake you back to life.

just an accumulation of things that might indicate that something is up.

but as these moments—moments when you’re lost in your head, trying to conceal your entire being from all of them, and pretending that it’s all normal—increase, the three of them learn a little something about observing.

and lying to themselves, of course.

eventually, though, when megumi or tsumiki inevitably say something—usually when you’re not in the room, off hiding somewhere—satoru just shrugs.

(he’s going to lie his way through this, just like everything else, thank you).

“it’s a bad day,” he’ll say, like the two children will comprehend that. like they don’t know what a bad day means. “she’s just tired.”

he could make a million excuses for you. oh, you didn’t get enough sleep last night. oh, you’ve only had one cup of coffee today. oh, the world is a truly terrible place and it’s only natural that it runs you down.

but he leaves them with the simplest of explanations, instead. maybe it’s his subtle way of denying that there’s anything wrong. that you could be upset about something. it doesn’t matter, anyway.

and tsumiki, ever so trusting of all of you, listens to him. if satoru says that you’re okay, then so does she. she’ll draw you a picture at school or try to help you make their lunches in the morning, but you’re fine. her questions end with an answer.

megumi, on the other hand, has never believed a word that satoru has said.

so when the older man swears that you’re okay, that they don’t need to worry, megumi only begins to worry harder.

he sees that look on your face when you walk in the room, and megumi knows. maybe it’s because he’s the most attuned to you, out of everyone, in particular. maybe it’s because he’s observant, or too worrisome for his age (as you tell him).

but he knows.

and if satoru says one thing, megumi’s going to believe the other.

(plus the two of you have always had a symbiotic relationship. you worry about him, and he worries about you. you laugh at him, and he gives a little lip twitch in return).

so satoru is not surprised when megumi brings it up for the fourth time in a week.

“you want me to what, exactly?”

“you can talk to them, can’t you?” he repeats, giving satoru a bland look. something like ‘are you serious.’ “they know you.”

satoru snorts. “i don’t think my bosses will appreciate me telling them what they can or can’t do.”

megumi gives him another look.

and yeah, so satoru already does that. they still don’t appreciate it.

he sighs, smiling at the boy. anything to mess with him, really. he ruffles megumi’s hair. “kid, she’s fine. i can’t just tell them to give her a couple of weeks off. there has to be a reason. and,” he adds, cheerfully. “i’ve been told it’s impolite to speak on someone’s behalf without their input.”

“you don’t care about being polite,” megumi argues, crossing his arms.

satoru groans internally. he’s really not going to let this go.

it’s not that satoru necessarily disagrees, but anything he does to help you is going to be refuted with a “butt out,” or “leave me alone, satoru.”

“true,” he says, grinning as he mocks the boys stance. “but i do care about being yelled at. particularly by your mother.”

“she needs a break.”

satoru rolls his eyes. “she’s getting one. the next couple of days are free, and she’s taking a nap right now.”

megumi frowns, even deeper than usual, and stares satoru down until he breaks.

“megumi,” the man groans, childishly, pushing the boy out of the room. “you don’t need to worry about her. chill out. just go back to reading about rocks or whatever you were doing.”

“it’s geology.”

satoru waves a hand, indifferent.

(secretly trying to come up with a way to get you to talk to him. he can’t ask because you’ll just ignore him. he can’t force it out of you because that would get the two of you nowhere.

what other options are left, really? you’ve put satoru in a terrible position).

“then can we get something, instead?” megumi asks, almost pleading. “flowers, or… whatever girls like.”

“y/n already has flowers. i bought them.”

“buy something else.”

“who taught you to be this stubborn?”

megumi only scowls at him.

satoru sighs, scratching his head. he knows he should do something—but he’s so used to sitting around and waiting for you to fix everything.

yes, he does recognize that it’s a terrible habit, and completely unfair. he also recognizes that he is the worst person in the world.

eventually he sighs. “okay. how about i order dinner?” he asks, almost wincing. it’s the most natural response—everything can be fixed with food, in satoru’s sophisticated opinion. “that’ll be easy. want to go ask mom what she wants?”

megumi practically runs to your room, leaving satoru with no time to remind him that you’re probably asleep, knocking just briefly—from what satoru can hear—before going in.

he tip-toes up to the door, also wanting to check in.

satoru is nothing if not nosy.

and he might as well let megumi do all of the dirty work.

“um, i don’t care,” he hears you saying. “whatever you guys want.”

“it’s for you.”

there’s a pause. then, “really, megs, i’m not very hungry, so…”

megumi is frowning down at you when satoru steps in.

“good nap?” he asks, smiling and sitting at the edge of your bed.

“you don’t need to get dinner. it’s my turn.”

he waves a hand. “i feel like takeout.”

you frown, about to argue when megumi speaks up, glancing between the two of you with an almost furious expression.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice soft but mad. like usual. satoru realizes that he’s been tricked into contributing to this.

“what?”

“why are you upset?”

“upset?” you repeat, eyes widening. “i’m not upset, megu—“

“are you sick?”

“no,” you say, immediately. “i’m just a little tired but it’s—“

“megumi,” satoru interrupts, trying to ignore the almost hurt look on your face—the glance you send his way, pleading and worried. he knows you hate this the most. “let’s let mom sleep some more, okay? tsumiki and you can decide what you want—“

“no.”

and neither of you can argue, or console the confused boy, before he’s climbing into your bed with a determined look on his face.

satoru tried to grab on to him, but megumi is having none of that, shaking him off before he can get a good grip. you’re looking at satoru anxiously, and this is the worst.

if satoru knows anything about you, it’s that you don’t want to be coddled. you don’t want to accept any help, even if it’s from your sweet, concerned son.

“megumi—“ you say, though, satoru notes, don’t make any attempts to move him when he struggles to get under the covers with you, or when he just sits by your side, barely touching you.

“i’m staying here.”

“really, bud, i’m okay. you don’t need to worry about me.”

“you’re sad.”

“i’m not.”

megumi looks at you, and satoru watches as you both share a glance. an internal conversation he’ll never get to be apart of.

for once in his life he’s not even jealous about it.

“it’s…” you say, but the two boys watch as your shoulders slack and your face drops. all at once, you lose color, life, and just sit there. “it’s fine.”

you say it to them, but it sounds more like a reminder to yourself.

satoru’s face falls. he has no idea what to say, what to do to help you—he’s spent so much time denying that there was anything wrong, that he could do anything to help, and now he’s got no answers.

he feels like an idiot, sitting there. megumi shouldn’t be taking more initiative, he should be the one worrying about you, the one to go to—

megumi doesn’t say anything though. he only moves closer to you, not complaining when your arm wraps around his shoulder and you hold him to you.

like a life vest. a support in all of the vastness.

he doesn’t need to say ‘it’s okay,’ or ‘i’m here for you,’ for the words to ring out across the the air.

and, satoru realizes, quickly, he’s only doing what you do for them. what you do best.

climbing in beside them and making sure they know that they’re not alone. being that support, no matter how unwanted.

megumi’s learned from the best.

“sorry,” you mutter to him. “i know im gross.”

megumi shakes his head and settles into you even further. and the boy doesn’t cuddle—or, at least, without being forced—but your face softens as he leans against you, allowing this kind of intimacy.

and, maybe, satoru thinks, that’s the problem with all of you.

no one knows quite what to say. what to do to help someone with something that they can’t understand. neither he or megumi is sure how to dig you out of this hole.

none of you are very good with words.

but, at least, satoru knows how to be good at this.

he sets his glasses on your bedside table, and he moves you both over with ease, smiling when you both grunt at his intrusion.

and then you’re a tower of people, all leaning against one another. building blocks stacked on top of each other.

you relax into satoru almost instantly and he kisses the top of your head, feeling some sort of pride—just at the fact that you’ll let him be here, with you.

maybe that’s the thing with families, he thinks. no one needs to say anything for it to be okay.

and the uneasiness sits there with all of you. the past couple of weeks—the distancing and disassociating—linger there.

there’s nothing he can say to make everything all better. he could destroy the entire world right now, save for your house, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

but this is nice. a hug might not fix everything, but it won’t make anything worse

and after a minute or two, you say: “where’s tsumiki?”

and she peeks her head out from your door, smiling at all three of you. it takes her three seconds to jump on the bed, having been waiting there the whole time, the final piece to your messed up puzzle.

#not sure what any of this means but 🤫#a typical family #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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