Tumgik
#part two will be out whenever ame has read lol
prettyboykatsuki · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
HOW TO BE A DOG. | S. GOJO
Tumblr media
⊹ general tags ; fem + afab!reader, reader presents femininely and has some specific character traits (i.e. personality traits, nothing physical), reader is shorter / smaller than gojo but nothing specified, reader is a teacher, gojo carries reader at some point (but he is canonly able to do very insane things physically so)
⊹ content warnings ; dead dove. do not eat, yandere gojo satoru, manipulation, stalking, obsessive behavior, delusional behavior, workplace harassment (not from gojo), victim blaming, canon typical violence, graphic depictions of murder, minor character death, excessive religious imagery, coercion, gaslighting, abuse of power, something akin to stockholm syndrome, graphic depiction of noncon / sexual content, forced intimacy, fingering, hickies / bruises, begging, edging, loss of virginity, size kink, 18+.
all sexual content present in part two.
⊹ wc ; 17.3k / 36.1k
link to extended authors note | ao3 | how to be a dog, by andrew kane.
LINK TO PART TWO
⊹ a/n ; well. its here. i wont ramble too much but i hope you enjoy and if you dont...well don't tell me. thank you to ame for your endless patience. likes and reblogs mean the world. the title is inspired by the poem linked.
⊹ synopsis ; with six eyes to see it becomes clear, you are being watched.
Tumblr media
“Of course you must learn to love, to love always and love entirely and to be wounded by nothing so much as the violence of your own love.” - andrew kane, how to be a dog.
Tumblr media
⊹ PART ONE : A CHILD BORN IN WINTER MUST NOT LONG FOR SPRING.
Tumblr media
There’s a dog living outside of Gojo’s apartment. It’s a collarless, lonely thing. Clever, too. 
Though, Gojo doesn’t know much about its life before it started hanging around the area, he gets glances on occasion. It’s not emaciated and it doesn’t look hungry, but it’s roughened up with matted fur and a healed tear in one ear. 
More importantly, it doesn’t bother anybody in the neighborhood. Despite its outward appearance and hostility when approached, its aggression won’t go farther than a warning bark or growl. Most of the adults living in the building know better than to try, but some of the kids living upstairs desperately attempt to befriend it. Of course they fail, and Gojo thinks that that poor thing is growing apathetic to the touches of sticky hands. 
The whole building is pretty fond of it, surprisingly. Gojo lives in a upend complex in a metropolitan part of Tokyo and the people here can be snobbish. So it comes as a shock that this dog wasn’t shooed away months ago. 
Everyones sort of agreed to take care of it. There’s a food and water bowl outside of the security office - and just last week a sign was implemented of Do’s and Don’ts for what food scraps can be left. There’s a donation box to get some proper shots and paperwork - since it looks like the building's doorman has agreed to take it in if everyone chips in for the expenses.
(Gojo suspects this has something to do with those very kids, devastated by the thought of it being gone.)
Warm welcomes from the residents aside, Gojo hasn’t seen it act friendly before. He wonders about that.  It seems hesitant to trust anyone and he’s sure there's a good reason. It’s just that it's clever. To be a stray in this area of Tokyo and be so calm is an impressive feat, so he thinks it probably has some grasp of his own situation. If it acted cuter, it could get a warm house and family too. Though the whole aloof and distant thing does the job just fine, Gojo can’t help but wonder what such a clever creature is doing, turning away from living lavishly. 
Much like everyone else, Gojo’s contributions have come in the form of food scraps and some donation money to work towards the 5,000 yen goal. On the occasion their paths cross, Gojo sits near it. Sometimes, they share a moment of silence and Gojo talks just to see if it’ll ignore him. It seems like it’s listening. It always makes a grunt of dismissal when Gojo turns to leave and he’s started to count that as a little victory. 
Gojo isn’t intrigued by anything as much as that dog. At least not lately. It’s damn near impossible to seriously pique his interest and yet that clever fellow is one of the few things he stops to ponder at. 
Today, Gojo is intrigued by the dog that lives on the street of his apartment and the strange woman who’s petting it like some sort of domesticated baby.
He’s very, very intrigued by that. 
The rain comes down in heavy sheets. It’s a Wednesday, and he has no classes to teach so he’s home and preparing to run errands. He’s going about his day as usual, basically. When Gojo isn’t swamped with a mission or the reformation of Jujutsu Society - he likes to play the part of the average man. 
The plan for today was to take his unused car out of the lot so he could get some dry-cleaning done, go buy a new pair of sunglasses because his old ones are scratched, and go do some shopping. He needs to buy groceries again ( an uncommon occurrence) so that one's on the list too. 
He’s dressed down. A black windbreaker is hanging over his shoulders, tight gray shirt and some comfortable jeans. He’s got on his errand shoes, a nice pair of sneakers and his keys are hanging from a loop in his belt. His hair is styled down and he’s got on his glasses instead of his typical mask.
He has a gameplan, a fully fleshed out expectation of how today will go, and it’s derailed by a woman he’s never seen before. He’s drawn to you so naturally it’s baffling. 
You’re crouched just in front of the security office. Dressed in a loose skirt and long sleeves, looking down by the local neighborhood stray. For the first few seconds, he just lingers on in utter awe. You’re carrying a comically cute umbrella, clear with flowers and a pink edge. He kind of thinks you look like a peony. 
He approaches slowly, quietly. 
When he finally gets close enough to really see, he can hardly believe his eyes. That old, menacing mutt is happily getting his chin scratched by you. 
“Oh, uhm. Hello?” 
The sound of your voice startles him out of his trance. Snapping back to reality, he glances down to where you are and realizes he’s towering over you. In an effort to be polite, he steps back and gives you his most disarming smile. 
“Hi. Sorry for the intrusion, I was just,” He glances at the dog who almost looks offended at the interruption “I noticed you were… petting this dog. Guess I was a little surprised.” 
“Surprised?” 
And your surprise surprises him even more. He blinks slowly. 
“Yeah. He’s not aggressive or anything but uh,” Gojo chuckles, concluding you must be a little new “Well, he’s not exactly friendly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone succeed in well…petting him.” 
You’re taken aback by this information. Yeah, definitely new. 
“Really?” You glance at Gojo before looking back down at it “I just gave him some treats and waited a bit. He’s such a sweetie. Sure you mean this dog?” 
Gojo gets a good laugh out of that. Partially at your cluelessness and partially at your disbelief. He nods, smiling a little. 
“I’m very sure, actually. He must really like you,” He says, hands in his pockets. He bends down to join you, but he’s still a little bigger than you at that height “I guess I can see why. You’re pretty friendly.” 
You peek over at him. You seem a little shy at the compliment. Gojo feels his interest pique a second time today alone. New record. 
“Oh, uh. Thank you. I teach kindergarteners so I sort of have to be.” 
He hums. Reaching his hand towards the dog, who sniffs and cuddles his palm (something it’s never done before) in order to win your favor more. It really is a clever little thing, just like he’d always suspected.
“I’m a teacher too. A highschool teacher, though. No need for me to be friendly, I guess.” 
You laugh at his joke, smile reaching your eyes as you hug your knees to look at him.
“You seem plenty friendly to me.” 
He pretends to think about it. 
“Maybe you have a gift for making people come out of their shell,” He says with sincerity, relishing in the fact he’s finally getting to pet the dog in any capacity “I think this little guy could probably attest to that.”
“And you have a knack for flattery.” You quip. 
The natural chemistry is noticeable enough for it to catch Gojo off-guard. He grins. 
“Hey. I’m not all bad. And what's flattery if I’m being honest right?” 
“Sounds like something a flirt would say,” You tease, airy. He laughs a little. 
“You seem like you’re having fun giving me a hard-time.” He pouts. You giggle. 
“A little,” 
“Jeez. How rude of you…” He waits, prompting your name. You smile. 
You give him your name. You say it soft and easy. He makes sure to return to the favor. 
“And yours?” 
“Gojo Satoru.” 
__
You live up to your first impression in the time that Gojo gets to know you as his neighbor. 
Friendly. The word he’s looking for is friendly. 
There’s other words though. Sometimes meek, typically cheery, oftentimes quiet. You’re quite unassuming, and possibly too gentle when compared to everyone else in the general area. You fit in fine, no worries there. And Gojo knows that for certain because he can’t stop himself from watching over you like a hawk. 
He doesn’t really understand it himself. Gojo gets along with everyone. He’s always been a people person who likes to talk and likes to get to know strangers. There’s nothing that special about your connection in that way. You live next to him, directly across the hall.  You often knock on his door to give him something that you’ve made too much of or ask to borrow some sugar 
And it’s not done with any romantic intent. Gojo is good at reading people. He’s never seen someone so blatantly  romantically uninterested in him. You’re not even conscious of him as a man, cemented to him  by the one time you came to the door dressed in paper-thin PJ’s. He hasn’t recovered from the shock. One of the many times in his life where he was grateful no one could see where he was looking. 
He’s had a few months since your first meeting to get an idea of your personality and what things about you he should keep in mind. You noticed that he’s often not in his house, so you’re relatively aware of your surroundings. You’re often up late because your lights are always on well into the evening. 
(He finds out later you’re usually making lesson plans or little gift bags or planning birthdays. You really love your job, something he can commend while simultaneously  feeling quite jealous about.) 
You favor the lovely spring colors like pink and purple because you have so much of it always on you. You dress brightly in general. And you smile, often, and stumble over yourself trying to be nice to the other tenants. The kids in the building adore you. The sheer amount of propositions you’ve received to be someone's full-time nanny could probably keep you employed for another two decades. 
And you always put your best into everything, no matter what. 
This is probably the aspect Gojo is most fascinated by. It’s not exactly a novel trait. He’s encountered something like it before. One of his most prized students is Maki Zenin. Her whole thing is kicking ass through sheer spite. 
But unlike his students or anyone else he knows - you don’t seem to be motivated by spite or anger or frustration. Even when you are angry or upset - you always force yourself into being more understanding. Into being nice, kind, and still giving it your best if you’ve been shorted somehow. He’s tempted to call you a try-hard. It draws on the line of people pleasing sometimes but it doesn’t matter either way. This is a quality in you Gojo likes all the same. 
He's always been drawn to people who are earnest. His company favors such things. He cherishes Yuuji for such a reason, and can say something similar for Nanami. It’s a refreshing perspective. He’s not a bitter person, but he’s not an earnest one either. So Gojo likes that you’re so properly, gently sincere. 
For the last few months he’s made a real effort to talk to you. So he’s not just the guy next door, but at least an acquaintance and at best a distant friend. On the mornings you both have classes to teach, he walks you to your car and if he wakes up before you - he’ll bring you a cup of coffee or a pastry he knows you enjoy.  
You’ll often do Gojo little favors and he’ll return them - joking to each other about being a good neighbor. An inside joke with each other that Gojo is growing increasingly fond of, all together with leftover cups of coffee and glances that linger too long. Some mornings, he takes out your trash when you’re feeling too tired and you’ll do him the favor of getting the stuff out of his clothes that he doesn’t want to dry-clean. 
It’s these little exchanges that make up the bulk of your interactions. 
He’s even been to your apartment (another reason he’s sure you’re not attracted to him). He went last week to help you cut out little autumn leaves to put on your classroom walls, and you rewarded him with some lemonade. 
He’s still thinking about it days later, how you sit on your legs and the way your cardigan hangs off your shoulder. When you’re focused, you leave your mouth open a bit and poke your tongue through your lips. He’s endeared by it. 
 By you in general.
It’s all boring and mundane, but that’s what makes it. It’s a luxury he rarely affords. Craves, really, which is why he’s starting to go straight home more often than not.
It’s nice that you’re always there. That you’re usually home and when you’re not - Gojo doesn’t have to guess too hard about where you are. It’s so constant. He basks in the feeling of constancy like an expensive silk. 
It’s little luxuries like that, he thinks, that make you so special to Gojo without much effort on your behalf. Being up at the top means he is always fascinated by the place closest to the ground. 
What’s heaven to a man born there?
__ 
In your fourth official month of residence, the neighborhood dog finally gets adopted. 
He’s not there for the big reveal. He hears it from you while he’s on a mission, through a text message and a photo. He acquired your number early on, but you’ve only started doing these text exchanges recently. Reason being Gojo’s had an unusual amount of cases that need his attention and you’ve been very aware of his absence.  
(The first time you texted Gojo after 3 days on the other side of the country, he was scarily happy. After all, most times when he leaves - people are expecting his return.  There’s an assurance that he will return alive, that he has to. It’s not often people worry.
It was another thing he learns about himself through you. Being fussed about is refreshing.) 
Currently, he’s all the way down in Nagasaki. He’s been investigating what the local government has described as an “infestation in the water,” leading to poison and all sorts of hallucination. It’s been causing all of the local hospitals to fill up and the news is advising people to distill their water if possible when at home. Make sure to buy bottled, and double check on your children. 
In other words, there’s an unidentified curse wreaking havoc in small towns and rural areas at an unusually fast rate and Gojo has been sent to figure out its origin. What’s really weird is the location. He’s in Nagasaki prefecture, specifically in Hasami - a town in the Higashisonogo district. He really didn’t have much time to do research on the area, save for a few quick google searches and probing questions to his student, the well traveled Yuta Okkutsu who is a hair more familiar with the region than he is. 
But there wasn’t much for him to find. Hasami is known for the porcelain it produces. The population is a little under 15,000 and the weather is nicer in spring than it is in summer where it gets too humid. It’s considered a small town, though that number is relative in consideration, and currently the local officials are sending off reports about the water supply. 
Even when doing deep research using official means, there was nothing that unusual about the place. No major criminal incidents or occult presence or some other thing that would make this occur naturally. Gojo is no stranger to small town violence or bullying and they can often produce the most volatile curses.
But he’s currently on his 3rd day here, where he’s taken up talking with the locals and he can’t find any specific attitude that would foster a special grade. 
It had led him to a conclusion,  but one he was deliberately avoiding. That someone planted the curse here in Nagasaki, or maybe somewhere else. Which really complicates the whole affair, because then this is an investigation and not just a situation of fate. It also means that this curse was likely harvested somewhere and that Gojo can’t be sure it’ll be easy to get rid of. 
Most importantly, all that fanfare means he’ll be home late. 
Given how much he’s longing to see you, it’s the thing he’s been dreading most. 
It’s weird. He’s never dying to see anyone, with the exception of an old friend long gone. But Gojo has been desperate to see you for the few weeks he’s been away from home. 
(He can’t tell if it’s normal to long this much for a person he truthfully doesn’t know that well.) 
But, while he’s away from home, the thoughts of you play on loop in his head. Like white noise, static yet constant -  there, all the same.  As he walks the rainy streets of Hasami, hands in his pockets - he can’t help but wonder when the next time he gets to see you will be
It’s like some sort of miracle (aren’t you always one?) when Gojo hears his phone ring, buzzing against his abdomen. 
He’s drawn back into reality when he feels it. In front of a store that sells handmade plates and glasses, he lets it go for a while. Feels it buzz against his pocket while he settles his thoughts. He examines his surroundings,  notices the cars, and the mother with her daughter across the street and the gray sky - all before he picks it up. Your name flashes him on screen, and something itches deep in his chest.
The clouds open up. And it’s still raining, but there’s a ray of sunlight cutting through them. For a minute Gojo feels worldly, grinning with damp skin before he slides his thumb across the phone. 
You’ve never called him before. 
“Hello?” He greets, wondering if it was an accident. Then you come through the other side of the line.
“Hi ~,” You say, clearly doing something in the midst of talking “How’ve you been?” 
“I’ve been alright. Very shocked you called me, yanno?”
You laugh quietly. 
“Sorry about that. I just wanted to check in. And I wanted to say thank you.” 
“I mean… I’ll accept but I feel like I should know what for.” He jokes. Your tone goes sincere, marshmallow soft and twice as sweet. 
“You paid the rest of the fees for the dog out of pocket, didn’t you?” 
He smiles to himself.
“Ah. Busted. That was supposed to be a secret between me and Mr. Security-Man,” 
“He didn’t tell me. I just…guessed. Seems like something you’d do.” 
His first instinct is to disagree.
“It’s not like I did it out of the goodness of my heart, okay? It was looking a little sad sleeping during the cold seasons. It was very pitiful. So bad, so sad.” 
“Why’d you do it?” You ask, probing but not too deeply “Like… really. It was really nice of you, but it was a couple thousand and that can’t be cheap.”
He relents, head leaning back on the wall behind him. 
“The kids, remember?” He murmurs, eyes staring up at the gray clouds “You said they’d be sad if the dog didn’t get adopted soon.” 
“The way you’re talking about it makes it seem like you’re doing this for me.” 
“And if I was? Would that bother you, hm?” 
You wait a minute, hesitating with your words. 
“Well…no. I guess not, I just—thank you. I guess I’m just a little… embarrassed about it or whatever.” 
“Shy, huh? Cute.”
“Jeez,” You huff. Gojo can practically hear your grinning from the other side; it makes his heart flutter. He wants to go home, to wherever you are “And you always say you’re no flirt.” 
“I’m not a flirt. I’m just telling it how it is.” 
“Yeah? Well, thanks anyway then. It made them really happy. You should’ve been there to see it. Maybe you can tell them when you get back?” 
“Don’t wanna.” He states outright. 
“You didn’t even think about it!” You exclaim.
“Mm, because I don’t have to. I definitely don’t want them to know.” 
“Why not, though? You’d be their hero, y’know? 
Maybe it’s something in the air. The damp weather out closer to the ocean, or the distance between you. There’s a tiny echo in your words, mechanical through the speakers. The word hero leaves a melancholy in his mouth, floating in the back of his throat like liquor refusing to go down. He chuckles. 
“Ooo, are you into that kinda thing? Like, super charming knights in shining armor? Or superheroes, maybe?” 
You giggle on the other side of the line. If you notice him avoiding answering you, you have the courtesy not to say anything.
“Isn’t everyone? I don’t know. I think if a really good-looking guy saved my life, it’d probably make my heart race a little, yeah. I’d catch feelings over that for sure.” 
He takes a deep breath. Everything smells like rain. 
“Is that so?” He says, chest blooming with warmth “I’ll keep that in mind.” 
__
Gojo returns from his mission empty-handed. 
He was out there for a long time, at least longer than usual when he’s traveling for a mission. He’s not used to hitting so many dead ends. The problem kept growing, but every trail he’d uncovered went cold in about a day. Just before he gave up hope, he was called in by Yagi. Since the issue has spread into other parts of the city, it’s no longer his solo jurisdiction. 
More hands on meant more time for Gojo to be teaching. It also meant that he would finally see you after so long. You waited for him outside the day he returned to Tokyo - wearing a cream colored sweater and the prettiest smile Gojo had ever laid eyes on. 
Gojo returns from his mission empty-handed but it’s not entirely pointless. Upon returning - he had a somewhat shallow epiphany about the way you make him feel. About the way he’s affected by you, which is arguably more valuable than some lead.
Being away from you for so long is something that makes him so irritable. He’s had some time between then and now to come into terms with it. 
Falling back into his routine, it was obvious. Suddenly there was a gap he’d never noticed before that blew wide enough for him to fall through. He actively avoids not seeing you if he can, and ever since your permissive conversation a few weeks ago - it’s harder to notice the way his desires fester. 
There’s not much he wants out of his life. So when anything noteworthy pops up, Gojo is always eager to get a hold of it before it’s too late. 
He usually soothes that by reminding himself of your position as a civilian, a kindergarten teacher at that. The responsible thing to do is make sure you’re safe. To play the hero from the sidelines and ensure you don’t encounter anything from his line of work. That’s his whole life's work. To create a life like that, and it helps to stay on that path when he believes you’re sheltered from that reality. 
That’s why, when you tell Gojo you can see curses, he feels the entire floor collapse from underneath his feet. 
He receives such devastating news over a cup of coffee at that.
It’s closing in to Fall slowly and Gojo has decided to take you out to eat as an apology for his disappearance. He intended to give you another half-truth about his job so you wouldn’t lose any sleep over him. 
When it happens, it’s less that you tell him, and more that you keep glancing. Just over his shoulder, with this terrified expression that Gojo couldn’t not notice, even if he tried. 
You’ve got your hands around a warm drink, in a white, ceramic mug but your gaze keeps diverting to the place behind him. When he looks over to that same place, a curse is there. Small. More insignificant than a bug, but there. 
It’s risky to mention it. Because if Gojo is wrong, it’s not something he can brush off. He’d have to come up with something to excuse himself, and he isn’t sure how to lie out of that (even with his natural disposition of being a trickster.) But when you keep looking, his instinct kicks in. There’s no way you aren’t seeing it. 
He doesn’t ask you directly. That’d be too incriminating, so he lowers his tone. Watches you briefly as you tremble in fear. 
(A small, small  part of him is only asking because he doesn’t like how distracted you are from him. Killing the curse seems like it’d relieve that annoyance too.)
“Can you see it…?” 
The question makes you jump out of your skin. You reel back, eyes widened before the realization really sets in. 
“....It?” 
Gojo looks around the cafe for a minute, to make sure no one is listening before he turns around and points to the cursed spirit behind him. 
“It,” He says, thumb pointed at the deformed curse moaning in one of the booths. 
When it dawns on you that Gojo sees what you see, you cup a hand over your mouth in shock. He can’t describe the way getting that confirmation feels. It raises so many questions about who you are. More than he had before, at least. 
No longer are you the innocent, clueless civilian and that changes every interaction he’s had with you since the start. Though it’s not uncommon for people who can see curses to fall through the cracks, he can feel his own curiosity dig into his skin like seeds taking root. He doesn’t think he should be excited, but he is. 
He’s excited watching your fearful tremble. He’s never seen you like that.
“Yes,” You say, voice a little shaky this time “I can see… it.” 
He takes the spoon out of his latte and cleans it with his mouth. Studying your expression momentarily, he takes a deep breath before standing to his feet. The terror is so subtle, the kind he can only catch because he’s so familiar.. He knows those emotions better than he knows most. 
Curses aren’t phobias. Not illusions or ghosts, but tangible madness. Impactful to those who can see it, but nothing to those who can’t. Fear like that, which can’t be shared with anyone, has a specific look when it shows up in someone. Gojo hasn’t felt that fear since he was very, very little. He watches curses with the same bland expression he might watch a horror movie, but he can understand your reaction at least.  He knows it like the back of his hand. All the people he’s saved, who could see them too, always wore the same one. 
Still, he’s caught off guard. He feels bad that you’re scared. But the proximity between you and him which was once oceans wide has decreased significantly in no time at all. That feels good. Even better than he would’ve imagined. 
“Are you scared?” He questions intently, maintaining a sense of neutrality.
You swallow a lump in your throat, eyes glued to the table in front of you.
“Yes,” 
Your voice is a hoarse whisper. The corners of his lips twitch upward. 
When he’s sure no one is looking, he stands up and walks over to the table behind him. Pretending to look for something so he doesn’t look out of place. It doesn’t take more than a second to destroy it. It’s tiny, something he’d never think of fighting since it’s so harmless. The curse equivalent to a fly. 
He gives it a violent death and sees you look on with horror in your expression. He finds himself pleased with that, wiping his hands on his pants before returning. Maybe you recognize his strength when he sits back down. Still, instead of pulling away again, you fold your hands in your lap. 
“T-Thank you,”
He grins at you. 
“Of course,” He says  “Can I ask you something?” 
You nod your head and sip your tea. 
“Do you know who I am?” 
You look confused.
“...Are you a celebrity?” 
He laughs hard at that. Hearing that makes him not want to tell you. 
“I’m Gojo Satoru,” He reintroduces. You nod slowly “I’m a sorcerer.” 
Another lie of omission. The strongest, he should say. He takes a sip of his latte, frowning at the bitterness. Through his mask, he watches as you fiddle with your hands. He stacks the empty creamer cups together before opening two more sugar packets and stirring them. 
“A sorcerer…” You look perplexed. Confusion settles into the lines of your face. Sheltered, Gojo concludes. Only parents, who shelter you wouldn’t tell you what a sorcerer was despite your ability to see them “What does that… mean exactly?” 
“It means I kill curses for a living” He replies simply. 
“I thought you were a high school teacher.” 
He smiles. 
“Smart cookie. I am, but the school I teach at specializes in cursed technique and sorcery.”
“Oh.” 
You look befuddled. 
Gojo thinks he might be an opportunist. 
“Do you really not know anything about them? It’s rare for people to be able to see them and not know anything about them.”
You shake your head, eyes peering into your drink. He watches how the image reflects in your eyes.
“Uhm. Not really. My parents told me to do my best to stay away from it. We lived in the countryside but I had to move out into the city for work so I kept… running into them. I can’t like… kill them. And I don't always see them.” 
“You can’t use cursed techniques?” 
“I guess that’s what that is. I don’t think I can, no.” 
Vulnerable. 
“Hmm. What circumstances,” He says, purposeful in weaving concern in his words. 
“Is it that bad…?” 
Not really. His job and the job of his peers is to make sure civilians make as little contact with curses as possible. There are more people like you, and because curses feed off of negative emotions - many dangers can be shafted by just not reacting. Even so, it’s customary for people to have some semblance of protection. A weapon if nothing else, for anyone who can see them.
“Do you carry anything with you?” 
“Like a weapon? I have mace for when I take the train late at night.” 
“Not that kind of weapon,” He says gracefully. He can tell you’re out of your element, and some small and twisted part of him would like to keep you in the fateful dark.
“What other kind would there be?” 
“There’s a lot you don’t know,” He half answers. Your frown deepens. He puts his palm over the top of his coffee cup but doesn’t feel any warmth “Aw, don’t be like that. I’m just teasing. You’re always so calm and collected, I was surprised to see how scared you got, you know?” 
“Everybody gets scared sometimes.” 
“Mm,”
His non-committal response leaves you nervous again. Fidgeting with the edge of your cup or the loose threads in the sleeves of your clothes. What a bundle of nerves you are. Gojo puts all the comfort he can in his voice, dredging up some sense of sincerity.
“Well, since it scares you and I’m such a nice guy, I’ll protect you if you get into any trouble.” He says, snapping his fingers and pointing at you.
That makes you relax. Makes your shoulders droop, a smile gracing your pretty face. Gojo can feel the floor underneath him sinking as you tease him. His eyes trace the curve of your neck. He’s glad you can’t see him or where they look. 
“Oh, what? Are you gonna come running every time I need help?” 
He smiles. 
“I’ll be your personal Superman.” He promises, making a silly expression trying to make you laugh. It feels good when he succeeds, the weight of his words softened by it. If you feel how heavy the comment is, it doesn’t show up on your face. 
You snort, taking a sip of your drink and there’s something so kind in your expression that Gojo aches over. 
“That right?” You hum, smiling over the edge of your ceramic mug “You’re my hero.”
__ 
Since then, Gojo’s kept quite busy.
The last time he saw you at all was at the diner a few weeks prior and little has been different since then. You send more nervous messages than before, but aside from that things are the same.
He’s done a good job, he thinks. Partly of ensuring you, partly of instilling healthy fear. Your eyes always widen like you’re caught off guard by his comments - sometimes washed away with a laugh but other times genuine. Gojo likes to keep you on your toes. A  bit of harmless fun and endlessly amusing. 
Gojo would be there to protect you just like he promised before, so even scaring you isn’t something he thinks of as bad. It’s not untrue that you should be a little more vigilant, but just telling you to do so is no easy feat. 
He would like to be spending time with you today just the same as he has before, but he’s home alone instead. There’s been a brief reprieve between cases so he’s on his own to unwind. There’s nothing he wants to do, so he decides on a movie. 
Gojo is the only one of his friends who still has cable TV. According to Shoko it’s a luxury purchase but for him it’s one less choice he has to make when coming home to relax.
It’s an American film on now, some psycho-killer classic that he’s already seen a handful of times with Japanese subtitles. 
None of the lights are turned on, so the TV illuminates the room in flashes of color. He grabs a soda from his steel-gray fridge and cracks it open, listening to the soft fizz that comes to a slow halt. Pulling it to his mouth, he travels slowly back to his couch. The leather squeaks under the weight of his body. The weight of his back creates a divet that he can be comfortable in. He rests his head, glancing back again at the screen. 
A scream rips through the house, agitating his every nerve. He picks up his remote and turns it down just a tad before watching the movie with a sort of disinterest. Horror movies aren’t his favorite, admittedly. He pretends he scares easily, but the opposite is true. Gojo has seen too much for it to be entertaining, no less scary. 
He likes movies based on their creative merit. He’ll watch one on its creative merit. 
But to be scared? For frights? Not really. Very little gets his heart pumping hard like that. Sometimes the storytelling is good. Other times there’s something cathartic about the formulaic death. The final girl, the call from inside the house. The dependable and clean ending of tropes. Even if it’s messy or sinister, it’s fantastical. Fictitious and detached. 
Gojo enjoys that. For anyone else, it’s probably a twisted way to think about it but to Gojo it only feels natural. He doesn’t examine that detachment very deeply. He’s just aware of it, lingering in the back of his head. 
He takes a long sip of his drink. The sickly sweet taste slowly coats his mouth. Fizzy and smooth, it goes down easily. He sits up in his seat, making himself comfortable as he tries to pay attention to the movie. The main girl is hiding in the bathroom, and the killers' steps are echoing through the house. The broken, somber string instruments in the background, fill the white noise with apprehension and terror. 
Gojo doesn’t feel a chill down his spine. His eyes are still fixed on the screen though, with slight anticipation of what's next even though he already knows. It’s nearing the end and he’s seen this movie before. She’s not going to make it, and Gojo knows that. 
He watches intently in spite of that. The door bursts open and there’s a knife in her chest - and screams. It’s horrific and ugly, blood-spattered and graphic. 
He doesn’t flinch until the whole way through.
It’s brief, but the thought passes his mind. Lately, the only thing that Gojo seems to react to is you.
But he doesn’t think about it too deeply. There’s no need to. 
The TV goes to commercial and Gojo realizes he’s finished his soda. He stands back up, onto his feet to toss the can and grab another. This time, he grabs some snacks too. Piles them onto a plate, dried meats, and something mildly sweet for after before he returns to his living room. Sitting back down on his couch, he scrolls through his phone for anything interesting but comes up short of any results. 
He sits up a little straighter as the next movie plays. 
__
Spending time around curses is a necessary part of the learning experience.
Things you can’t learn in all the lessons and tutoring in the entire world. Even though Jujutsu Tech exists, and even given Gojo’s lineage - when he started working officially, he didn’t know everything. You can’t. No matter to what extent you study, there’s some things that you can only gauge through experience. Going through something over and over, like muscle memory.
Gojo spent a lot of his life wanting it to make sense. Wanting curses and the way they showed up to make sense. This is a lesson in truth, divine truth you can only take up in experience. Curses are human emotions, which means that they are finicky and everywhere. And the dangers of them will always look like the aftermath of destruction. 
Sometimes, there’s nothing you can do to prepare for why things happen. It’s why Gojo is always grasping for light where he can find it. 
Gojo Satoru stands in an empty parking lot all the way in Osaka. He examines the sight in front of him and can’t find anything he’s learned to prepare for what's next. 
Fog has rolled in thick clouds over every inch, limiting his vision. The air tastes of smoke, and the earth underneath him is damp. The wet concrete squeaks under the weight of his shoes as he takes in the surroundings. The parking lot of an animal hospital, in particular - where all the staff were reported to have fallen unconscious. After being rolled out by the proper authorities and after all the animals were moved into a different location - Gojo was left to examine the remnants of the incident. 
The reports are similar all across the country. Not the location. but the symptoms. People falling sick and ill. The initial reports of a water-borne illness didn’t progress far past the first city. It’s evolved since then. People get sick, pass out and hallucinate and animals lose all control. 
The aftermath isn’t very messy so luckily it doesn’t attract too much attention. There’s no bodies, or blood - nothing  heinous thereafter. The effects appear later in the people affected, taken over by an unnamed madness that appears to turn their internal experience to ruins. Gojo would’ve preferred the first situation. Violence like that becomes easy to digest with enough exposure. 
These kinds of symptoms are always hard to stomach. Civilians get answers that placate them. The truth is that there's something bigger out there at play and they were just so unlucky to bear witness to the terror. With altered memories and the badge of trauma, what they don’t know can’t hurt them. 
Gojo knows though, and sometimes he envies their ignorance.
He makes his way into the building. A set of glass doors greets him when he turns the sidewalk, with a blinking sign. Osaka Animal Hospital is written at the top in neon, accompanied by the words 24hr service. Gojo only glances at it briefly before sighing, hands on the bar to push himself through the heavy glass doors. He has to lean some of his weight to get through, and there’s just another set beyond those where he has to do the same. 
Then, he’s inside. 
The presence of the curse and of cursed energy ignites familiar caution within him. It’s here, in some capacity - or it was recently. The perpetrator is here too. Why that is, Gojo can’t quite understand. It seems a little backwards to linger here after everyones been evacuated and there’s no doubt someone would come to investigate. 
All Gojo can think is that maybe they weren’t expecting him. But by now, they must know he’s there too. Gojo’s presence is intentionally oppressive - by nature it must be. Now it’s a waiting game, a quiet one at that. 
Hospitals are always echoey and this one is no different. The squeak of his boots bounces off the walls as he takes steps towards the receptionist desk just to see if he’ll find anything. 
He leans over it, to stare at the left over records - untouched by the authorities. Everything looks like it was left in a hurry. Strew pens and a corded phone just barely back in place - with computers on a blue idle screen. All the daily documents are still out sitting on the desk with no organization to indicate they’ve been filtered through. No paper clips or post-its telling the next person working about what to do. 
Instead of walking behind the counter, he climbs over it with relative ease. Once he’s behind it, he takes better note of his surroundings. He doesn’t find anything completely relevant. There’s painting of animals, and some certifications for bills of health as well - but nothing that warrants his attention. He redirects through the papers in front of him, coming across a stack unexamined. Those answer sheets they give you to fill out so they can assess the situation before meeting you. 
They’re split into two piles it looks like, though that could just be some coincidence. Still, he flips through them. Directing his attention to the little comment box with the prompt what are you being seen for? 
It’s nothing serious. Normal things an animal owner would be upset or worried about like bowel movements and eating something that shouldn’t have been consumed. A minor injury or a worrisome behavior - but nothing that sticks out. For pages and pages, Gojo flips through the little packets trying to find anything. 
It’s not what he sees, but what he doesn’t. A blank packet of papers, with no name for the owner or the pet. Only a description in the prompt box, neat handwriting in a single line. 
“Showing signs of anxiety.” 
Gojo smiles to himself. Interesting. 
He jumps back over onto the other side once he’s seen it. It’s strange. Why would they go to the lengths of premeditating it like that? Whether it’s the curse itself or some third party, it’s an unreasonable thing to do. 
“Not like people like this are usually reasonable, but,” 
He saves the rest of the thought, sighing. The room has two hallways to go down. Both directions have some lingering cursed energy,  but the hallway leading to the overnight area is much stronger. It’s separated by a big metal door, so Gojo braces himself to go through it.
He walks towards it slowly and through the doors even slower. It’s a long, empty hall. The ceilings are low, white fluorescent lights over his head like a falsified halo. They flicker on and off, with the ones at the very end of the hall having fizzled out completely. Gojo can hear, feel, and see everything. He can hear his own breathing and the artificial crackling  of electricity. Feel the lingering presence of sickness, the sediments of a curse preparing itself to emerge like a butterfly from a cocoon. 
He peeks into the different rooms of the hallway. One half of the hall is kennels, once again empty and left in the same messy state as the front desk. The other half of the rooms look like surgery rooms, with a storage closet tucked into one corner. The hall comes to an abrupt stop at the end, a painted gray wall with nothing to offer at the end.
But when Gojo is half-way through, he hears it. A heart-beat. A human one, slow and steady like it’s not worried at all. Not moving or running, just there. Thump, thump, thump. 
Gojo perks his head up as he walks, leaning over to get a look at every room. Empty, empty, empty. 
Then, in the very last one is a shadowy figure. The sound of the heartbeat is louder and the feeling of cursed energy is so strong it’s nauseating. Gojo pauses when he peers in, waits for there to be any response to his presence. There’s no way whoevers lurking doesn’t know he’s there, but there’s nothing that makes him react. He frowns. 
His hand reaches for the handle of the door with a sigh, the mechanism inside clicking to let Gojo know it’s open. He takes a deep breath before opening it, stepping inside and shutting it behind him. 
Even with the room as dark as it, the person inside is clear to his vision. A young girl. Probably no older than 17 with… 
He furrows his brow. With a dog, from what it looks like. No ordinary dog, obviously. A curse in the form of a dog, with teeth too sharp for its mouth and fur that looks like a smear of charcoal and nothing like hair at all. It’s on a long leash, the chain wrapped around the young woman's palms. 
The dog seems to tense up at the sight of Gojo. The eyes are empty and white - almost transparent. It’s a snarling thing, muzzle over the mouth and clearly on edge. Gojo looks at its owner, the perpetrator in this instance. Who looks calm, black mask tucked over face and long dark hair with bangs cut sharp.
Gojo doesn’t know what to say here. He wasn’t expecting to make contact this easily with a curse and its master. It’s been months now, the authorities chasing after this special grade from city to city. She’s obviously strong, and so is that curse that’s strained against its collar like it’s ready to rip him in half if he moves. Not stronger than him, because no such thing ever happens - but strong enough for him to be cautious. 
He doesn’t step forward. He stops by the door and tilts his head. He’s sure she can’t see his eyes, but they make eye contact all the same. None of it makes any sense, but making sense of it isn’t Gojo’s job. 
Instead of introducing himself, he opens the conversation with a question. 
“Why’re you still here?” 
“I knew I was going to get caught soon.” 
An answer he couldn’t predict even if he tried. Gojo huffs. 
“There was some time between the authorities coming and this investigation. You could have left before then, no?” 
“Doesn’t matter. Something would’ve stopped me.” 
“What a weird kid. What led you to that?” 
There’s a minute where the dog (?) starts barking,  but the noise is nothing like a bark. It’s cosmic and strained, and sounds more like a distorted radio than an animal noise. It’s in the shape of an animal but it isn’t one, like it couldn’t complete itself to be one. Gojo winces at the sound, intensified in the closed walls of the room. It’s piercing, and a little annoying. 
When she soothes it, it calms down quickly. It’s obedient. 
“Uh. A vision. Closer to a premonition. Fate.”
“Fate said you were going to get caught today. Right.” 
“Aren’t you a shaman? Shouldn’t be that hard to believe.” 
“Point taken. How did you know I was a shaman and not some murderer?” 
She gives Gojo a pointed look. 
“Look at you. Plus, I can feel that you’re a shaman.” 
“Another premonition?” He asks, this time sincerely. She shakes her head. 
“No. Your aura.” 
Gojo stares ahead. 
“...Right, yeah. It doesn’t look like you’re planning on attacking me.” 
“I don’t think I’d win. I’ve never met anyone stronger than me.” 
“I’m the strongest there is, so I guess not. How did you wanna go about this, then? Famous last words?” 
“You go first. I’d rather talk to you than the other officials.” 
“Hm. Don’t know if I have any questions, kiddo. My job is catching you, not interrogation. I guess I am a little interested in why.” 
This makes her deflate a little. It’s hardly noticeable, but Gojo sees it anyway. The dog seems to react, snarling at her discomfort. He’s starting to understand the connection between them.
She thinks for a minute longer before sighing. 
“Well. I guess I should start about why, right? It’s an old story. I came from a small village. I used to walk miles to school everyday and I’d get bullied a lot since my granny was a shaman. It was just us growing up. A nice old house with not a lot of modern anything,”
Gojo crosses his arms, leaning back on the wall and nodding his head. He figures she’ll tell him top to bottom, so he doesn’t give any input. 
“My granny died a few years ago. I didn’t have any family so I moved on my own. Even back then, the only other thing I cared about were animals. I started working at a shelter and then I met Senbei.” 
The more she talks, the worse he feels. Gojo already knows how this story will end, but he doesn’t interrupt her as she pauses between her sentences. Being 17 and bearing the burdens of loss is something he regards as a nightmare. 
“Senbei was my best friend. Most loyal dog ever. And you know, I started my job with high hopes and kept him by my side. I wasn’t always angry. Working in that shelter and watching animals come in trembling every time I fed ‘em made me angry. How cruel and sick people could be.” 
Her explanations are jumbled and clumsy. She sounds angry but it’s not that simple, curling in on herself the more she talks. Noticeably, she doesn’t try to justify it. She says it easily, with acceptance that it happened.  He thinks that acceptance is harder to bear than delusion. Gojo can’t help but commend her silently. 
“I’m sorry you went through that.”  Gojo replies. 
He’s being sincere. 
“Should you be sympathizing with me?” 
“Doesn’t matter. I just do.”
Her expression softens. She looks sad, and it’s not like Gojo doesn’t understand.  She keeps going though, hands shaking in her lap. Gojo thinks she might’ve been waiting to tell someone. 
“I don’t know when I stopped seeing the good in people….I always thought about—about my granny and how no one—no one came to see her. She was always taking care of everyone and no-one—“
“I know, kid,” Gojo says with a sigh “I get it.” 
“Then you know,” She pauses, taking a deep breath. There’s frustrated tears pouring down her cheek this time. What a strange, sad thing she is:  “That you can’t go back. Even if you forget. It just—it changes you.” 
Yeah. Gojo knows something about that, too. 
“I was already pretty desperate when Senbei was alive. Just trying to hold on. When he was killed, I lost it. I just fucking— I lost it. I’m sure you understand. You get it right?”
Gojo looks at her confused. She shakes her head, looking down in her lap at the curse in her hands.
“I can tell you're like me.  That's why your aura is so tainted and… fucked up and  malicious. It should be crystalline blue kinda like spring water—but it’s muddy. Rigid.” 
“What are you talking about?”
“The fact you’re hanging on by a thread. You can feel it too, right?“ 
Gojo remains quiet at her observation. He doesn’t know how to react. 
“When you want something so bad, it just— does something to you. Either because it won’t happen or because it needs to take your life to exist. Happened to granny, to me. It’ll happen to you, too.”
“I doubt that,” Gojo says, your face flashing in his mind. He shakes his thoughts away. 
“You’re thinking about it too literally. You want something, so you chase it and lose yourself in the process. You’re dead. No longer you, all tangled and in ruins. It’s not too late, but if you keep going—that thread is gonna snap.” 
“A premonition?” He says, partially sarcastic. She shakes her head. 
“No, a prediction. You don’t have to consider it if you don’t want to. I just thought I’d tell you since you gave me some last minutes with this Senbei.” 
Gojo shakes his head. 
“I don’t have any reason to be forceful if you comply. Take your time. I don’t have anything better to do.” 
Gojo glances at her as she pets it, having resigned herself to silently gazing upon it. He can’t stop himself from thinking about everything she’s said, so he averts his gaze to the ceiling and pretends otherwise.
The silent stretches, a pregnant pause before she speaks one more time. She has a look on her face Gojo can’t read.
“You know, it’s funny. Everyone thinks dogs are loyal to their masters, but that’s because we made them that way. We can’t stand being alone or unloved so we made something that can do both without ever seeing any less of us.” 
“You’ve had a lot of time to think about it.”  Gojo says, unsure of how to reply. She isn’t expecting anything, but remaining silent fills him with a sense of dread. 
“Guess so. You should take some time to think about it too,”
She says to him, petting the curse that whines like it’s been hit in her small hands. Gojo takes a deep breath. 
“…Yeah. I’ll do that.” 
__
The case ends anti-climatically. 
Gojo finds it funny. The officials came and the young girl was promptly arrested. He never even got a chance to ask her name. He learned through some probing that she only made two asks before being taken. 
The first, to keep her curse dog with her, and to send her thanks to the sorcerer who had apprehended her in the first place.
On the news, much later in the week - a news report surfaces. “Danger in the Deep,” giving reasonable and logical explanations for the events that occurred in cities across Japan not even a few weeks ago. New studies show, experts say, here’s a word from your local—a barrage of fancy language to pad the publishing, add depth and realism. The public is none the wiser. 
Gojo has to admire the commitment to keeping the peace. The case ends, and the girl gets arrested and put on trial. He doesn’t know if he’ll be seeing her again any time soon, though he’s sure he has the power to intervene. 
He’s hesitating to do so. Why stick his neck out for her in a situation like this one? Over other situations, more dire ones at that. She’d make a good ally.
Their last conversation hasn’t left the back of Gojo’s mind. He’s conscious of it, albeit it hasn’t slowed him down. He’s not looking for another assessment of who or what ghosts are haunting him. He’d prefer to put it all behind him now
So life, in some capacity, has returned to its baseline. It’s normal. He has cases but they don’t take him more than three days. He’s able to do his usual chores without anything impeding them. He’s been teaching, no longer forced to make his students fend for themselves. 
He’s been seeing you again regularly, too. 
He’s getting ready now to do just that. Scheduled to get another coffee together (something of a tradition now) and pick up some conversations. You’ve been busy, though Gojo doesn’t know the details of what.
He wants to know. He’s even tried asking but as soon as he gets close to the subject, you slink into yourself like you’re trying to disappear. Besides, he doesn’t want to intimidate you into telling him. 
(Though, it would be so easy to do. You’ve got a record for being a scaredy cat, and as much as it endears him - he is entirely too hung up on the potential for exploitation to admire it kindly. It’d be easy to turn the notches up, pressure you. With how easy going you are, you’d let him do it. Gojo bets you’d cave. He thinks the face you’d make would be entertaining too. 
Above all, the offer is tempting.) 
In spite of your refusal to discuss the specifics, Gojo does want to cheer you up in whatever capacity he can. So, he’s taking you out for a while and hoping a comfortable environment and the presence of other people will soothe your nerves a little. 
He’s getting dressed for it now, rifling through his closet for decent casual attire. 
He’s got his hair styled down, a pair of new sunglasses on the table and his clothes folded on his bed before he tries them on. Most of his closet is uniforms, plain black and boring. For now, he’s settled on a black crew neck and blue jeans - ripped at the knees. 
He looks over his appearance in the mirror, posing in it. Arms flexed and stretched over his head before putting them out in front of his body. 
He takes his time to take part in the ritual. He slips his boxers up over his legs, waist band tight around his torso and clinging to the curves of his thighs. He pulls his jeans up, low at his hips with a belt buckled through the front. Then comes his sweater over his abdomen. 
He wants to look nice. Though, he could be deluding himself - lately you seem a little more aware of his appearance. It makes him happy that his good looks haven’t failed him in the instance they matter most. 
As he puts on his accessories (in this case a watch and a ring) his phone buzzes atop his dresser. He stops to pick it up, a message from you on the screen. He peers over so his face can be read, then smiles. 
(sent 11:15am) Ready ~ 
He laughs to himself. 
(sent 11:16am) Almost ready. Need to look my best for such a tremendous occasion. 
(sent 11:16am) For coffee? 
(sent 11;17) For coffee with my favorite kindergarten teacher ofc ♡
You send back a simple reply telling him to hurry and come out. Gojo chooses to interpret your embarrassment as a sign. It puts some pep in his step, and he hurries to finish dressing up. 
He steps out of his house, locking his door from the outside before shuffling down a single flight of stairs and out into the front entrance of his complex. He notices you waiting at the front gate from where he’s standing. 
The neighborhood dog (officially named Pokupan) is asleep by the security office. You’re the same as always. Today's outfit is a dress with long sleeves and colored tights. It suits you. A splash of warmth in an otherwise dreary world, Gojo stands in place as he watches you for an unidentified amount of time. Minutes feel like seconds as you pace back and forth. Your phone must be in your purse because he can’t find it anywhere on you. 
He’s delighted when you finally turn your head to look at him. You cup your hand and give him a kind wave which he laughs at and returns enthusiastically. His stride is long, walking towards the gate. 
You have to tilt your neck up to look at him (making his chest squeeze unhelpfully) but you smile when you do so. 
“Hey,” 
“Hello there Miss. Waiting for a special someone?” He jokes. You flush. 
“They’re an important friend,” 
He tries not to let his smile falter. Friend. 
“Then, is it a bother if I ask to take you out?” 
This time you falter. Gojo notices it out of the corner of his eye, the briefest brush of nerves that makes it seem like you’re warming up to him after all. It’s gone as quickly as it came but it’s there and Gojo etches it into the back of his eyelids for memory. He smiles at you as you look away, flush
“Not at all,” 
He grins, again, even brighter. Then he sticks his arm out for you to loop in. You hesitate again. This time Gojo can’t be sure why.
“I’m just being a gentleman, you know?” He pouts. His frown takes effect as you loop your arms together. He keeps it friendly. Too much pushing and you’ll skitter away right before his eyes. Still, even this much progress feels good. It feels whole and light and good. 
It’s a pleasant sort of day. 
Not that it’s warm, or even sunny. It’s cold, on the edge of Autumn that dances into Winter. Freezing but bright out, the kind of sky where everything is clear. During the day the sky has no clouds and no stars when it comes to night time. 
Nonetheless it’s nice. The cold is the kind that makes you want to cozy into someone for warmth, so Gojo doesn’t mind walking in. The walk itself isn’t very long either. The cafe is near your complex, just about 15 minutes worth of walking. There’s no snow or ice to trip on, and because it’s freezing - you shiver every time you stray too far from the heat of his body so the walking is done exceptionally close together
There are kids and parents walking together on the street alongside you, dogs and their owners, street vendors with hot tea. It’s that kind of day where the cold doesn’t keep anyone indoors, in fact everyone seems to relish in the fact they can run and run and run without overheating. It feels like everything is in sync with each other, comfortable and harmonious in spite of everything else.
After 15 minutes, you’ve arrived at the store front. Not long enough for Gojo, but that’s okay. There’s next time he has to look forward too. 
(He tells himself this every time. It’s never enough for him. He can never get enough of listening to you talk. He could probably mimic your cadence without having to try. It’s a sound he doesn’t get sick of―a miracle, another one, because Gojo hates so many sounds―yet there’s one he always looks out for. 
There has to be a next time. If he forgets to tell himself as much, he gets so restless he can hardly stand.
The cafe is nice. It’s one of those places that you see on Instagram often with plenty of sweets for Gojo’s taste and plenty of fancy teas for yours. The outside has beige-colored brick and a brown sign decorated with cutesy drawings. You spend a good amount of time crouched beside it, taking a picture or two to later post on your story. 
“You have to tag me, okay? It’s your payment for wasting our precious time together,” He jokes. 
You stand to your feet and brush off your pants, the material of your coat rustling as you do. 
“Yes, yes ― I promise. I’ll have to ask who drew them when we get in there.” 
Gojo smiles at your enthusiasm before opening the door for you.  Another one of those glass ones with a logo printed on the top half and the metal tinted brown. A little bell chimes above your head as you head in first, and Gojo heads in after you. He has to duck not to his his head on the top of it.
It’s not too crowded at this hour. A handful of people sit among the many tables and booths. Your head is turned to the menu and Gojo trails behind you like a shadow. One to compliment all your light. 
It smells delightful inside. Like warm cookies and vanilla and tea. Gojo feels his sweet tooth kick in the minute you two stand in line. The barista is a doe-eyed blonde college student. There’s another employee with long dark hair and thin, narrow eyes. It reminds Gojo a lot of that girl he met a few weeks ago but he tries to put that thought out of his mind.
He sticks his hands in his pockets and eyes the menu. The special item is a yuzu cream cake, the picture of it hanging on the wall like employee of the month. There’s a glass display of all the other items and the menu matches the rest of the decor.
“This was a good choice,” Gojo says, entranced by all the desserts around him. You laugh, turning your head slightly to look at him. 
“Are you complimenting yourself right now?” 
“Am I wrong?” 
“Your sweet tooth is so bad,” You say through giggles “Your poor dentist,” 
He gasps in offense.
“I will have you know I keep my pearly whites pristine. Not a single cavity for the record.” He says back, placing emphasis on the last words. You snort a laugh. 
“I’ve never had one either,” You repeat back, perhaps mindlessly before saying “There’s a lot we don’t know about each other yet.” 
Yet. Yet. Gojo’s subconscious will hold onto that word for too long. It makes his heart beat too loud. He’s relieved that you’re nothing like him. If you were in this very moment, you would hear the thunder raging inside of his ribs. 
Instead of saying anything, he scoffs playfully. 
“I bet you were such a goody two-shoes that you never ate sweets before bed-time.” 
Your eyes widen in surprise followed by embarrassment, where you tuck your chin into your sweater. 
“Ugh,” You say, so weakly Gojo can’t stop himself from laughing “What’s wrong with being a goody two shoes, huh?” 
Gojo feels almost feline in his self-satistication. “I didn’t say anything was wrong with it, just that you were one.” 
Your frown deepens. 
“I don’t care for your tone, mister.” 
“Are you gonna scold me like one of your students?” 
“If it gets you to be nice,” You say firmly, in that Teacher voice that Gojo has caught glimpses of over the last few months. He does a fake salute. 
“Yes, ma’am!,” He proclaims,  soft enough so only you hear it. You break out into another set of his giggles, melting his cold heart. It’s not the smile so much as it is yours.  The line moves up just a little bit. Gojo steps in front of you before you have a chance, his figure shadowing you. 
“What do you want?” 
“I think I’m gonna get one of those fruit teas and some cake.” You say absentmindedly. He smiles at you playfully. 
“Heard,” 
Gojo turns to order for you both, laughing through your obvious protests about his paying for you. He’s able to block you from getting in the way as the cashier looks on the both of you bemusedly. When the order is placed, Gojo taps his phone against the reader before moving aside where you stomp your feet and follow him. 
“I told you I would get it this time,” You whine. He hums. 
“Mm, there’s always next time?” 
“You say that every time!” 
“So you never know? Maybe it’s next time for sure.” 
You seem to realize that this is a fruitless conversation and that he’s not going to relent. With a flush on your face, you cross your arms and pout. 
“I’ll get you back one of these times, I swear….Anyway, thank you.” You add the last part quietly. He hums. 
“It’s only fair, you know. After all, who else would come here to eat sweets with me?” 
You look taken aback but Gojo doesn’t retract his statement. He’s sure there’s someone he could ask. But there’s no one who would agree to it as easily as you have. The environment wouldn’t be so welcoming, either. Someone who would do something like this with Gojo is long lost. It almost feels foreign to him now. 
In order to ease the tension, you look up at him warmly. 
“Then, I’m glad you asked me.” 
There it is again. That warm, sort of fluttery feeling he gets in his chest being around you. He wonders if he’s allowed to be so happy. 
The food arrives at the counter, the young woman calling out for Gojo. You and Gojo split the task of carrying the plates, picking a nice booth in the corner with the top covered, You slide in across from him, situating your bag. 
You and Gojo go back and forth, setting up everything so it looks nice under the lights. Gojo takes on taking the photos this time, clicking from a few different angles and stopping to show you after each photo. 
“I’ll send you the picture later, okay?” 
“Don’t forget.” 
“I won’t, I won’t. Let’s eat, okay?” 
You nod enthusiastically.
__ 
You and Gojo eat and chat comfortably for a while. 
He’s not sure how much time passes. He wasn’t checking because why would he? He’d like to be with you a bit longer, so he refrains from thinking about it and hopes you do the same. Just a bit more, he tells himself. Until you really, really have to go. 
There’s nothing major to catch up on. You tell Gojo about your job, mostly and how you saw some friends from out of town the week before. Winter is coming and you want to do something nice for the holidays. You’re getting along well with your fellow teachers which is good. He was worried about that, but he can’t keep eyes on you at school. 
(Not for not having tried. He’s thought about it, but his presence would be too noticeable and he doesn’t trust anyone else to the task) 
So it’s relieving. Your only complaint has been that some of the students have the sort of parents you can’t handle. Pushy and involved in a way you can’t ignore but can’t tolerate either. Gojo jokes to take care of them, gesturing to his arm like he’s ready to knock someone's lights out. 
That makes you laugh, and following it you have this melancholy look that sends alarms blaring in Gojo’s head. You don’t broach the subject at all afterwards. You talk about everything else you can. The sale on radishes at the market, thinking about getting a car just to have it, maybe visiting your parents sometime soon. 
Gojo listens. He doesn’t have much to add. His work is strictly classified to people who aren’t in the field and it’s nothing fun to begin with. He does tell you what he can - usually about some antics his students have gotten into during training. He can at least talk about that. 
He tells you about the movies he’s watched, how he went drinking with his co-workers last week, and how he thinks Pokupan is starting to act friendlier to him. 
It’s fun because it’s you. Gojo likes feeling like he’s involved with you intimately. He likes hearing you talk. The sound of your voice is such a pleasant contrast to his own. You talk with a kind of joy Gojo could never hope to carry, all gestures and smiles and interjections - trying to make sure your point comes across. How you don’t think the kid sitting in the front is a bad kid, just needs guidance. How the material of your sweater isn’t really cashmere but more of a blend. 
Time passes  comfortably that way. The drinks and food have been reduced to crumbs and cold drops of tea, glasses emptied and phones abandoned. 
But neither of you have made any move to leave, and Gojo is still listening to you talk with a pleased smile on his face. It was a pleasant sort of day, remember? 
“So it was fine in the end, but the classroom was such a mess seriously―” 
So, it throws Gojo off when you stop speaking so abruptly. How easily the atmosphere melts, and what an unpleasant film it leaves behind. 
It feels like an axe hammering on a stop, a sharp and near violent thud that cuts off the end of your sentence. The air becomes tense in the blink of an eye. Gojo can feel it, the sensation of cursed energy. It’s stagnated, little like pebbles at the bottom of a creek. But it’s there, and Gojo can feel it creep over your shoulders like a sixth sense. Like someone skipped a stone over that same water. He senses it in the air like dust in the light.
He sits up straight, focusing his attention on you. 
“Hey,” He calls out, softening his voice as much as he can. Trying hard to identify what's wrong exactly “You okay?” 
Your hands shake as you lay them flat on the table. You’re almost completely spaced out by now. It all happens in the blink of an eye. 
Gojo stares at you, calling to you a second time. 
“Hey. Hey, look at me?” 
When you finally hear him, you jump in your skin. Your shoulders relax when you realize it’s only Gojo. Normally that would make him happy, but not like this. Your hands are shaking. A nervous fidget in all of your movements that he’s never seen before, like you’ve been shocked with electric wire. He hates it. The taste of your fear (this fear) is different and unfamiliar. 
He doesn’t like it. 
You turn your head to look at him then avert your eyes again. He can’t follow your gaze as it shifts. It’s too erratic.
“No, uhm. It’s just, uhm.” 
“Woah! Hey, Miss. I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” 
Everything feels like it slows down as Gojo watches your eyes snap up. Your expression drops again, even lower, and if he listens close enough he can hear the sound of your heart. Your discomfort is tangible. It leaves a metallic taste in Gojo’s mouth as you suddenly curl in yourself, shoulders hunched and peeling skin off your nails. 
You don’t even look to Gojo for help. Instead, your words go soft.  You become helpless in front of his eyes. 
“Oh. Yes, hello.” You bow your head trying to say as little as possible. Gojo stares as you shake like a leaf in the wind. Something ugly curls up inside of him, a knife twisting in his chest. 
“Aw, c’mon? What’s with the unfriendly act? Is it ‘cause you’re here with your boyfriend?”
You look up at him panicked. Not because of the comment, but because of his tone. Gojo hears it too. How sinister it is. Like he’s blaming you for it somehow, like you’ve wronged him. The feeling inside of him is so ugly, it’s so wretched. His knuckles turn nearly white from how hard he’s closing his fist. You put your hands up and go to explain yourself anxiously. 
It makes Gojo sick. He smiles, turning his head just a little so he can see. He opens his eyes and stares, focusing his vision on remembering every detail of the bastard's face.
“I’m not her boyfriend. We’re neighbors,” He explains, tone as cold as ice but smiling. 
Gojo puts pressure in the atmosphere. His natural and suffocating aura returns to him easily. He smiles and remains unnervingly still, waits in quiet for the man to respond. He scratches the back of his head, still indignant. 
“Uh. Okay. I guess that’s good. Wouldn’t be appropriate for a teacher to be out on a date like this huh?” 
Again. This guy, whoever he is, turns his head like he’s trying to talk down to you. Diverts his perversion and sadism towards you that leaves Gojo wondering what his head would look like against concrete. A bitter, heinous feeling waits inside of him, nesting into his ribs as the sound of every voice in the room comes to be muffled. All Gojo can hear is his heart. How long it's been since he’s heard it. 
It’s loud. A cacophony, or a hymn. Divine rage in the sound of his soul leaves has him unsure of how to proceed. 
Gojo glances at you. Your eyes are rounded, full of desperation. Pleading. 
Gojo hates whoever this is. Gojo wants to save you. He thinks you deserve to be saved. 
He stands up. He has enough height on the guy to be intimidating, the guy just barely coming up to his shoulder. Gojo stares down wildly, pulling his glasses to the bridge of his nose to peek briefly over the edge. The bastard stops talking immediately, words coming to a stutter, It’s satisfying. 
“Who are you?” He asks. 
“Wh-why is that any of your concern? Can’t you see I’m talking to―” 
“I didn’t ask about who you were talking to. I asked who you were,” 
He hears you from behind him “He’s a parent from my school,”
“Ah, okay. Interesting. Since you’re a parent, we wouldn’t want to make this a confrontation right?” Gojo says, bemused “It’d be a real issue for everyone if it turned out that way,” 
Gojo puts a hand on his shoulder, tightening his grip hard enough to hear him gasp. He’s weak, but that’s to be expected.
“So, I suggest you turn around and head home, hm? Since we wouldn’t want it to be a big fuss.” 
Gojo can see it now. With a little pressure, he could turn the blade of his shoulder in sawdust and watch him fall to his knees. He’d let out a cry, a sharp pathetic wail like a hit dog. Gojo would make him say sorry to you before he lets up his hand from his skin. He’d do it infront of everyone in the store so they could hold a little fear in their hearts. 
He won’t do it. Just for now. If it complicates your work then you wouldn’t be able to support yourself. What would he do if you ended up somewhere far away? Out of his sight, something like this could happen again and Gojo wouldn’t be able to take care of you. 
So he doesn’t crush it. He pushes his palms into his shoulder blades and whispers quietly, just so the two of them hear. He pulls away and watches as his face goes pale, a simple stutter leaving his lips. Something about how he’ll see you later and that somethings come up before he turns around and leaves.
Gojo watches as he does. The door chimes again, and the man disappears. The patrons who might’ve glanced turn away again like it was just a simple altercation, which is good. Then finally, Gojo looks at you where you are. Your hands are trembling so hard, a shake of relief in your shoulders as you cover your face. You look like you’re getting ready to cry, so Gojo takes it into his own hands. He cleans up all the food, wipes the table, and even grabs your jacket and bag as you take a minute to collect yourself. 
He taps your shoulder lightly afterwards, waiting for you to look up. Once you do he smiles, reaches a hand out to you so you don’t have to think twice. 
“About time to get out of here, huh?” 
You nod, so slowly. You look so relieved, even as you sniffle. Your hand is so small compared to his. He squeezes it protectively as you slide it into his own, and helps you walk out of the store together. 
The air is cold, the same as before, the temperature having warmed just a bit. The bell above the door rings as the two of you finally leave, standing in the street. Unlike before though, there’s something bitter in the air. The sun has hidden itself completely in the clouds and the streets feel emptier, lifeless. 
Gojo turns to you with a somber expression, trying to smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 
“Do you want to go somewhere to talk about it, maybe?” 
You chew your lower lip then sigh “...Yeah. Probably should, huh?” 
You and Gojo decide on a place not too far from where you are. It’s a small park, a good place to end off an otherwise good day. 
You have to take the bus to get there, but there’s not many people. Gojo eventually gives you back your things, lets you slide your jacket on and fix your face - but ultimately takes your hand and holds it on the ride there. He brings it to his lap and you don’t pull away even though you seem to fidget the whole time. 
The bus finally stops in front of the park. It takes hardly any time, but Gojo finds he’s unable to let go of your hand so he doesn’t. Instead, he holds tight and lets you trail behind. You let him lead you quietly out back in the street. You give your thanks to the driver as the doors close. 
He can’t let go of your hand, though he knows now would’ve been a good time to do it. His grip only grows tighter. 
“Let's go find somewhere to sit,” He offers. You squeeze his hand this time and don’t look away. 
“Okay,” 
He tries to keep pace with you this time, instead of walking ahead. Your strides are shorter than his so he’s careful that you don’t fall behind. Your eyes still have that watery look to them but you’re no longer trembling from fear. Just the cold, if anything. 
And your heartbeat no longer sounds so hazardous. Gojo is still restless, still fidgety. His thumb is rubbing circles into your skin but it’s not really for you. 
You find a bench, eventually - in the middle of the long walk-way just a distance away from a playground. Gojo juts his chin out towards it, before turning over to look at you.
“Let’s go sit,” 
You nod as you walk together towards it. You sit first, and Gojo finally lets go of you. He sits besides you. There’s a minute where the whole world is deathly quiet. There should be something calm about it, but it isn’t. You’re no longer terrified, and a distance away. There’s no danger lurking in the dark and there’s no cars passing or children crying. 
Everything is calm and silent, but Gojo couldn’t feel more unease if he tried. He thinks he hides it well. But there’s that itch again, in a place behind his ribs he can’t reach into and he finds it hard to breathe. 
“So,” He starts, breaking the tension “I’m guessing it’s not a friend,” 
The stupid joke makes a smile appear on your lips. It’s small, but Gojo takes some comfort in it anyway. You wipe away your lower lash gently, a wet laugh leaving your mouth. 
“No, not a friend. He’s uhm… a parent from my school.” 
“The one who’s been bothering you for all these weeks?” Gojo supplies. You turn your head, eyes widened in surprise. Gojo lets out a breathy laugh. 
“You….knew?” 
“Not about him specifically, but I could tell something was bothering you,” He admits, and then adds “I always pay attention to my favorite person, you know?” 
The addition has you looking away, but Gojo doesn’t mind. You sigh, rubbing your face with your palms before leaning back against the bench with your head hanging off the edge. 
“He’s the parent of one of my students. Akio, he’s a good kid. A really well-behaved one but… too well-behaved. Never raises his hand, never complains or says he won’t do something.” 
“I’m guessing that sent off an alarm bell, huh?” 
You nod softly. 
“Yeah. I figure it was something at home, but I’d met his mom prior and she was a real angel. Then, his dad came to visit. The man we met at the store, and I knew right away.” 
Gojo feels his jaw clench listening to you talk. 
“But still, you know, my job as a teacher is to be as respectful as I can. I always politely declined him when he would make comments and remained professional. Eventually, his mom stopped coming altogether and—I tried, I really—but he…” You trail off, a lump in your throat. He watches as tears form in your eyes, his anger getting more and more tangible. He tries not to express it, putting a hand on your knee “He just… kept pushing. A-and once, he looked like he was gonna get violent. I made a report, you know, to the school. But you know how they are,” 
“They never even bothered investigating huh,” Gojo sneers. You laugh a tired sort of laugh. 
“Of course not. After that, I just tried to endure it. And I know he hasn’t done anything technically, but it doesn’t really feel like a matter of if but when,” You explain haphazardly.  Gojo squeezes where his hand rests. 
“I believe you. It’s okay,” He says as soothingly as he possibly can “It’s okay. I’m here,” 
There’s a sense of relief that washes over your whole body and before he knows it, you’re breaking down. He feels a lot of emotions all at the same time, watching your little frame as you lose it so easily in front of him. A part of him is so furious he wants to make it everyone's problem. Another part of him is so deeply sad knowing you’ve suffered all on your own. 
And the most notable part of him is the sense of protectiveness, burrowing inside of him. A sense of possession. It sinks into him like teeth, seeps into his blood like the venom of an animal so that he bleeds and breathes it. Gojo can’t shake that deep sense of urgency, a nameless and faceless desire that consumes him. He shudders.. He holds it in, all of it. Cups his hands so desperately so that it doesn’t spill over and touch you, the ink of ruining the soft white of your clothes. 
In a world that you have made beautiful, desire is ugly. Hideous and infectious, it tears Gojo limb from limb. It makes Gojo feel on edge. Gojo should not desire for any more than what he was. People always die when he does. 
But maybe they don’t have to. Maybe, he can protect you. He can keep you safe. He wants to keep you safe. He wants to keep you all to himself.
It’s in an effort to soothe those feelings that his arms find themselves around your form. It’s the first time you’ve hugged in such an intimate way. Where expects you to turn away - you don’t. 
Instead you cling, your arms around his jacket and your face in his chest. You cry and weep and sob and you look so small like that. You look like you’ll collapse and Gojo holds you. Says it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay as you let it all out. It must feel good to finally let it all out, after everything and he doesn’t intend to stop you. 
“I promise I’ll always protect you from now on,” And he says it, and means it. If you feel the weight of his statement, you don’t let it show “It’s okay. You can cry if you need too,” 
You cry and cry and cry. 
And Gojo thinks the call of heaven is nothing in comparison to the sound. 
__
In the end, Gojo can’t forgive him. 
It’s not without effort. He tries to do it at your request, because after all the tears he wants to help. He says he can maybe pull some strings. But that gentle heart you have declines. You don’t want it to become a big deal. You feel a little better knowing he knows. In the end, you don’t want it to affect that brats reputation. 
“You know how kids can be,” You say, voice full of concern for everyone but yourself “I don’t want to make school life anymore difficult than his life at home must be,” 
So, Gojo tries to listen to you. But days pass, and days turn into weeks. In the end, a month goes by and Gojo is full of terrible and divine anger. 
In the end, Gojo won’t forgive him. Gojo can’t let it go. He feels so righteous in it, he starts avoiding his own eyes in the mirror. There’s something inside of them he has no desire to look at. Eyes that tell all, Gojo turns away from their gaze. Gojo is angry for you, and it’s not in his character to do nothing about it. 
He decides on less of a whim that it looks. He wonders about alternatives, if there’s anything that can stop this feeling from imploding inside of him but nothing comes.
When he decides that nothing can be done, Gojo goes out of his way to start watching him. 
Like any mission, he needs enough background information to map out a plan.  He wants to make sure that it has virtually no pushback for you. There’s always a possibility you’ll get caught in the crossfire and that’d be the worst possible outcome. Gojo can protect you from a lot of things, but he’s not as confident about the law. 
(Not that he can’t. Just not in the good, right way he’s sure you want him to protect you in. Gojo’s love is divine, not right. There’s nothing in this world Gojo can’t shield you from, because he’s the strongest.)
 He also can’t make anything obvious or leave any room for interpretation. If there’s anything that feels off when the reports go live - you’ll stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. He thinks in the instance you find out (about all of it, the premeditation  especially) you’d probably tuck your tail and run. 
(Gojo would find you. But the chase means there’s some time you’re apart. The thought is almost nauseating.) 
He likes that you’re curious about everything. In most instances anyways. But he thinks it’s better to leave you in the dark sometimes. Having you worry about it would ruin the point of this. And sometimes, it’s better not knowing every detail. Honeytraps are more ethical than nets. 
He’s doing it for you in the end, like he does most things. And the kid will benefit, maybe even get some sympathy from his classmates for a while about the tragedy that befell his father. Gojo thinks it’s a good plan because no one loses.  It’s a lot like killing a curse. 
It only takes two weeks to learn virtually everything there is to know. A guy like that doesn’t have much he can hide. 
The name of his target, he learns, is Nobu Watanabe. Father to Akio Watanbe and ex-husband to Akiko Watanbe. He’s a recently released felon (let off on good behavior) with a battery and assault with a deadly weapon charge. He’s a college drop-out, and has been working a lot of odd-jobs since he was 16.
His personality is bad, worse is his drinking and smoking habits. He’s often found drunk in the street, and has a track record for single nights spent in a cell. His ex-wife is usually the one bailing him out. Gojo can’t help but feel sorry for her. Somehow, he doubts that he’s good to her. He’s a deadbeat father through and through. He only offers to pick up his kid to harass you. At least from what he can tell. 
He isn’t as awful to his kid as everyone else. Gojo doubts that was always the case. Akio isn’t a bad kid, but it’s hard not to notice the way the light in his eyes disappears when his father comes around to pick him up. A head always looking towards the floor, hands tucked in his pockets. 
It’s difficult for Gojo to feel any guilt about what he’s doing. After everything, he can’t find it in himself to feel any regret. 
His target is currently working at a dock, not too far from the city. He seems to work there most days, working at a bar on the weekends. It’s a big company that handles foreign goods that he does physical labor for. Lifting and moving boxings, checking inventory - it’s not a complicated affair. 
If there’s not a major shipment, he still seems to clock in so he’s definitely paid some kind of hourly wage. He smokes often on the job, but works diligently when there is something to do. An easy but physical job, he’s strong. Gojo can understand what intimidates you about him. 
Gojo, though, isn’t intimidated by him at all. 
He waits a week before he takes action. To shake off anyone or anything that might be trailing him, and to make sure that everything is the same as he observed. That his schedule wasn’t going to change. A week passes, and when Gojo has confirmation - he decides to do what he does best. 
Gojo Satoru decides to play God on a Sunday.
Sunday is a day shipments come in and a day he often works alone. The pay is better on Sunday and Nobu is the only one on his shift who takes it. He’s not expected to finish the strenuous work because he’s alone for such a long stretch of time - just to make a dent in it. The people at the next shift are the ones who finish the job. 
He starts his day as early as 6am. It’s near winter, so the world is painted in a miraculously melancholy blue. Gojo follows him that morning. He knows the route well enough to trail behind him and not attract any attention. They pass together, turning corners and taking bus rides until Nobu’s finally in at his job. 
There, they part briefly. His target goes into the big white building and he goes on top. Gojo has to teleport to the roof because everything is gated with security cameras covering every inch of the property. Following him puts Gojo at risk. So he waits on top of the building, hands in his pocket and pacing until Nobu comes out the otherside to the docks. His jumpsuit put on haphazardly, only half-pulled up to his waist, with a clipboard and pen as a bunch of boxes waiting for him to check them. 
After Gojo confirms that he’s alone, he lies in wait. He sits and waits - watching as the clouds pass. Watching the open sea, how it remains unchanging no matter what boats pass through to shore. He looks at his phone every now and again to check the time. 
It shouldn’t be too difficult to actually do it. 
You know, if Gojo turns his infinity on, there’s nothing in the world that can touch him. He can touch it, but it can’t touch him. There will always be a barrier between his hands and the world. Between him and the known universe, a bridge that started burning the minute Gojo was born into it. If Gojo turns on his infinity, there’s no way to leave traces of him behind. 
Did you know? If Gojo turns on his infinity, his fingerprints don’t show up. There’s no DNA to find. Not a trace of him in the world that he hasn’t left purposefully. Even if Gojo chokes him with his hands bare hands - he wouldn’t be touching him. But Gojo can feel it. Feel his pulse, feel his breathing come down slowly.
If there’s such a thing as heaven or hell, Gojo wants to ask God about being homicidal. If it was a flaw of human design or their Lord reflected inside of them. 
He lies in wait on top of the roof until 7. 
When 7 hits, the world around him is still so dark. No one kills in broad daylight. The heavens are murky, sky full of black clouds like puffs of smoke. It’s freezing cold, a spine-tingling chill making its way up Gojo’s skin and hardening his hands. . Gojo waits for the doors of the garage to creak open. When the sound echoes into the air, a metal screech in the void, Gojo stands to his feet. 
He jumps to the ground, landing with a dull thud. He comes out unscathed, a cat on his feet. He dusts off the front of his pants. Nobu hasn’t taken notice of him. Gojo takes a look around them. There’s no cameras in the warehouse. Gojo waits alone in the dark. 
Five minutes. It’s five minutes when all of the lights go out. 
“What the fuck?” Nobu mumbles, dropping his clipboard on top of a bunch of boxes, running a hand through his hair. Gojo waits in silence, watches as he turns around. 
When he finally does, he jumps back in shock. Gojo feels a cold chill run through his body. 
“What the fuck? Who the hell are you?” Nobu asks. Gojo grins. 
“Ah, you don’t remember? We met a few weeks ago! We had a nice little exchange and everything.” He says, voice going higher by an octave. The man in front of him stares, off put by Gojos’ presence. He stumbles in his thinking, his body tensing up. 
“Who the…what the fuck is going on?” 
“Hey, don’t be so scared,” Gojo says, then uses his teleport to phase himself closer. Nobu’s eyes widen, shocked. Scared out of his wits, with the story of heartbeat like he’s being hunted. “Tough guy like you has nothing to be scared of, does he?” 
“W-w-what…how did you…” 
Gojo shakes his head. 
“Don’t worry about it, man.” He says, voice calm and smooth and even. He’s surprised by how his emotions feel in his body. Like he’s so angry that he’s not. There’s something inside of him, the white waters that wade, that Gojo can feel. It’s strange “We’ve got about 5 minutes till the lights come back on.” 
For a while, they stand at a draw. No one moves. Not him, or Nobu, or the open oceans. It’s quiet for a dock. Even quieter for a dock in Tokyo, and Gojo’s not even using his abilities. He probably won’t need too, other than infinity - there’s not any good reason for him to exert himself any more than he must. 
Weeks of planning, weeks of watching, weeks of waiting. Nothing feels like it matters at the moment. He wants it to be over soon-ish. 
It’s not that Gojo is particularly sadistic. 
It’s just that, everything feels like it’s teetering over this very moment. He thinks it to himself quietly like someone trying to remember where they last left their keys. 
Briefly, Gojo thinks “I can’t go back,” after this. In the back of his head he just knows.
He envies this aggravating strangers' ignorance, too. 
“What do you want from me?” He says, stuttering - a gasping breath of fear in his lungs that snaps Gojo out of his thoughts. Gojo shrugs. 
“Nothing, really. I’m not short on money, you know? I make a good living,” He says, spouting off about nothing as he closes the gap between them. Stepping closer infinitely until Gojo backs him into the garage, into the tall tower of boxers where there’s no cameras and no witnesses “Hm…is there anything you can do to fix this?” 
No, Gojo answers mostly to himself, But wouldn’t that be nice? 
“P-please, I have—” 
“A son right? And an ex-wife, and a dead mom in Saitama. You didn’t think I came here without doing any research, did you? We’re the same in that way you know, I might be a frivolous - but hell if I’m not diligent,” 
He looks like he’s going to throw up. Gojo remains indifferent. 
“Who are you?” He asks, this time really wondering. With that hoarse voice of curiosity, of defeat.
Gojo hums.
“Good question. Who do you think I am?” Gojo poses and lifts his hands up. He puts them around his neck, pushing hard until his back is against the stack of boxes. It’s dark but Gojo can see everything. He keeps his open, tightening the grip of his hands slowly. 
Nobu tries to spit something out but the words get sputtered, muffled by lack of oxygen. 
“Do you think I’m a devil? An angel? God? I wonder,” Gojo says, staring. With his mask on, but his eyes opened wide. “Guess I’m kind of like a boogeyman,” 
Gojo can feel it. His body underneath his palms, gasping and struggling for air. He can feel his hands try to pry his hands off. He can feel his body slowly start to lose its air, how he deflates like a balloon. Gojo is unmoving, unfazed, unworried. He’s near motionless except the hard grip of his hand on his neck and the pulse that slows gently under his palms. 
It takes 5 minutes, maybe less, with all the strength in both his hands. Gojo isn’t counting. He holds on for maybe 2 minutes after that, just to make sure it’s not a fluke. He waits till the heart stops sounding in his ears and until the body is completely limp except for where Gojo is holding him away. He goes out sad. Useless, even. 
When Gojo stops, Nobu’s body drops to the floor with a dull thud. He stares at it for a while, then sighs. It’d be nice if he could just leave it there, but he does his due diligence. Picks it up from the ground with relative ease, over his shoulders. 
He walks it out towards the dock - the very edge, before tossing it in water and watching it sink. When it disappears from his sight, Gojo is left with his reflection in the deep blue. He meets his eyes for the first time in weeks, and knows he’s seeing exactly what he thought he would. 
His anger has settled, just barely. Just enough to be able to see the change in his own vision. With his Six Eyes, Gojo can see that there’s no turning back.
 With his mask on, he looks at himself, warped in the vision of the sea. The vision of him—crystalline and white and blue—murky and moving. 
Gojo jumps to the roof and turns the light on again. The power comes back. 
A dog barks distantly, over and over and over. Gojo watches the sun rise alone. 
__
The following weeks pass without a hitch. Gojo feels like nothing has changed. 
(But that’s not true. Everything is different. The same but different)
At the two week mark, winter has set in and Gojo is spending time with you in your apartment together. Currently, you’re cooking dinner (after carefully instructing Gojo to stay put in the living room.) Gojo is sitting watching T.V. He’s helping you grade papers at the coffee table, humming to himself. 
It’s about 7 when the news starts to play. A local news channel and a familiar face on the T.V. Gojo is surprised when the breaking news report airs. 
“Two weeks ago, a missing persons report was filed for ex-convict Nobu Watanbe. Sources say he was last seen working at a Dock in Tokyo - which experienced a power outage. It’s reported that Nobu seemed to have gone missing at the time, and hasn’t made contact with anyone since then. Could this be the work of a…” 
The rest of the report  Gojo tunes out. He turns his head slightly to see if you’ve noticed. Your eyes are glued to it., standing and staring silently. You place your spatula on a towel on the counter.
“We got word about a week prior to this,” You say, breaking the silence after some time without Gojo prompting. He looks at you “Akio started coming with his mom again and she gave me the story. It wasn’t unusual for him to up and disappear, but he hadn’t done so since Akio was born,” 
“That so?” Gojo says, nonplussed. You nod. 
“I feel guilty but,” You trail off, rubbing your arm anxiously “I can’t help but be… relieved. Just a little. I don’t want the guy to be dead or anything, but it,” 
Gojo stops you in the middle of your sentence. 
“You don’t have anything you need to feel guilty about,” He corrects, voice stern. You give him a sad look but he remains firm in his stance “He was harassing you for weeks. It’s only natural that you feel relieved, you know?” 
You’re not entirely content with the response, but you seem to know well enough this isn’t something Gojo will compromise on. You sigh, looking down at the floor. 
“Yeah. That’s true I guess, but still. I wonder what happened to him, or if he just decided to run away,” 
Gojo pretends to think about it. 
“Maybe. Otherwise…guess it was God’s divine punishment,” He says, continuing to grade papers. He doesn’t even look up as he says it. You let out a puff of air through your nose in amusement . 
“Yeah,” You say, “Maybe. I should thank him some time,”
Gojo hums.
“I don’t think that’s a bad idea,” 
Tumblr media
2K notes · View notes
seunmong-in · 26 days
Text
🌅Sunsets in Sydney🌅
Tumblr media
Genre: Fluff, childhood best friend to lovers, Idol! Felix x Reader, Humor, slight cursing, she fell first but he fell harder. 
Words: 2.1k 
Summary: After being on tour for a whole year, Felix is finally back in Sydney for a well-deserved break. While he is ecstatic to be with his family again, there’s one person who he wants to see most. His childhood best friend and crush, Y/N. 
A/n: Okay, can I start this off by saying, Holy crap… Thank you to all who like or reblogged my first fanfic with Han!! ( click his name if you wanna read it ! ) I honestly thought it wasn’t that good since I wrote it in a very sleep-deprived state, lol. But y’all proved me wrong🥹❤️‍🩹 That said, I hope you guys also like this story with Felix! Like always, if you have any feedback or want to make a special request just DM me!! Here’s also my latest one with Seungmin as well 🫶🏼
P.S Does anyone else have “that’s not very nice” stuck in their head too?
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⋅•⋅⊰∙∘
365 days. 
That's how long Felix has been away from the place he calls home. And no, he doesn't mean his actual home back in Sydney. He means being away from his childhood best friend, Y/n. 
Felix and Y/n have been best friends since grade school. They have always been there for each other, from performing in talent shows to caring for each other when one falls ill. They are like two peas in a pod; wherever one goes, the other is sure to follow.
On the day Felix had to tell Y/n that he was leaving Sydney to become an idol in Korea, he broke down crying. He was worried that being thousands of miles away from his closest friend would strain their relationship. As he was about to board the plane, he turned around to see Y/n waving goodbye to him with tears streaming down her face, and he couldn't help but cry, too.
Surprisingly, Felix and Y/n's friendship didn't end after that day. Instead, their bond grew even stronger. Y/N would constantly update Felix through text or calls, sharing the details of her day and making sure he didn't miss out on anything important. While Felix enjoyed receiving these updates, what he loved most was the pictures his mom would send him of Y/n with his family on small family trips. Seeing her smile and taking selfies with his sisters always warmed his heart.
He had already surpassed the stage of simply developing feelings for Y/n. Felix adored her. He loved her. Whenever he watched a video of a couple on TikTok or Instagram, he imagined how to recreate the same videos with Y/n by his side. His heart skipped when Y/n surprised him at one of his earlier concerts with Olivia and Hannah, Chan's sister. The memory of her dancing his part of God's Menu while Hannah danced Chan's part on the big screen was something he would never forget. Since that night, Felix had been planning to confess his love to Y/n, and he decided to do it under the sunset in Sydney.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽
Under the hot summer sun, Felix's freckled face is lit up with a big smile as his family rushes to greet him. Olivia is the first to embrace him, screaming, "Oh my God, do you even know how I miss you, Lix?!"
Felix laughed, embracing his youngest sister and repeating, "I miss you more." He noticed that Olivia had grown a bit since the last time he saw her and that her hair was now dyed at the ends. Noticing her brother staring at her hair, Olivia mentioned that Y/N did it a few days ago at one of their usual girls' nights. His mom and dad were the next two to hug him tightly, with his mom shedding a few happy tears.
"I say this every time, but I am so happy to have my baby back home."
Felix wraps his arms around his mom, hugging her as he says, "I am happy to be back home to Mom."
Felix was sitting in the back of a car, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of Y/n. He was waiting for her message, asking if he had reached home safely, but he had yet to receive any message from her. Although this was unusual, he assumed she might be busy.
Suddenly, Olivia abruptly interrupts Felix's train of thought, "So, are you finally going to ask Y/n to be your girlfriend while you're here, or are we still sticking to the whole 'she's just my best friend' excuse?" The unexpected question catches Felix off guard. His face turns red with embarrassment as his mother turns her head around from the passenger seat, waiting for a response.
Avoiding eye contact with his mother and sister, Felix clears his throat, allowing himself to find the right words.
"Um.. what makes you think I even have feelings for her?"
Olivia stares at her older brother, scolding him with his earlier response, "Felix be so fucking for real right now. It's obvious you have feelings for Y/n. You look at her as if she is your whole world, your face lights up with a smile whenever she texts you, and you always seem to find a way to talk about her when we talk on the phone. If that doesn't scream, "I am in love with my best friend," then I don't know what does. Oh, and before you go and argue with me about this, even the boys agree that you are completely strung up on her. So do us all a favor and tell her how you feel, will you?"
Felix sighs as he looks up to see his sister's gaze. He knew he had to come clean now before his plans got ruined. 
"Have I mentioned how much I dislike you sometimes, Liv?"
"Yeah, but I'm your favorite sister, so start spilling before I call Hyunjin and have him tell Y/n to you." 
During the last five minutes of their car ride, Felix confided in his family about his plan to ask Y/n out when they reached the house. He made them promise not to say anything to Y/n about his plan since he wanted to create a memorable and private moment between them.
As Felix's father pulled into the driveway, Felix noticed Y/n's car parked across the street. His heart raced as he jumped out of the car, ignoring his mother's yelling about not going inside yet. 
Felix barges through the main door and stops when he sees the handmade "Welcome Home Lixie" banner that Y/n was struggling to put up. He chuckles softly and leans by the living room doorway, watching as she gets on her tiptoes to hook the string onto the nail.
"You know, I could've helped you put up the banner, sunshine if you would've waited a little longer."
Y/n turns around to find Felix smirking. Blushing, she runs to him and hugs him. He hugs her back, lifting her up and spinning her around.
Trying not to cry on his shoulders, Y/n ever so softly whispers, "You have no idea how much I missed your hugs, Lix."
"Me too, sunshine, it's been way too long."
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⋅•⋅⊰∙∘
After returning home and having dinner early, Felix went upstairs to his room. There, he discovered a welcome-home basket in the center of his bed. The basket contained his favorite candies, face masks, a small chicken plushie, and gift cards to his preferred places. Felix smiled, realizing that it was a gift from Y/n. She was always the type to spoil others with gifts, even if it was a small occasion. Looking through the gifts in the basket, he heard a soft knock on the door, and Y/n walked in. When Felix looked up at her, they locked eyes for the second time that day. Time seemed to come to a standstill, and after a while, Y/n was the first to break the silence.
"I hope you like it; I saw it on Tiktok late last night and thought I should make you one."
"I love it a lot; thank you, sunshine." 
He gives her a soft smile and motions for her to sit with him on the bed. She walks over and sits beside him, watching him unwrap more gifts. Y/n can't help but laugh as Felix brings the chicken plushie up to his face, jokingly asking, "Do you think it looks like me?"
"As much as I want to say yes, I feel like I am going betray BbokAri, so I must lie and say no."
Felix and Y/n laugh as Felix places the plushie back on the shelf behind him. The room lights up in a golden hue, indicating the sun is about to set. Without wasting more time, Felix takes Y/n's hand and leads her out of his room and towards his car.
"Lix, what are you doing? Where are we going?"
"I was hoping we could watch the sunset together again, just like we did as kids. It's been quite some time since the last time we did, and let's face it, we're not getting any younger. Before we know it, we'll be as old as old man Chan."
""I'm going to tell him you said that," she says, laughing as she follows him to his car. They both jump in and drive to the nearby beach.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⋅•⋅⊰∙∘
As the car pulled onto the sandy shore, Felix practically flew out of his side to open the door for Y/n. She beamed with delight as she stepped out, feeling the warm sand under her toes. Felix swiftly closed the car door and took her hand, leading her towards the beach. The sky was ablaze with a breathtaking display of pink and orange hues as the sun descended below the horizon.
"I forgot how pretty the sunset could be when you can see the reflection on the water."
"I know, but it's even prettier with you beside me," Felix responds. 
Y/n stands before Felix, unsure if he is joking or serious. He chuckles as she becomes flustered.
"You know that's not very nice."
"What isn't sunshine?"
"You saying that to me and not explaining what you mean," Y/n states as she turns away from him. 
Felix grabs Y/n by her waist and spins her, holding her close. Y/n's face flushes a deep shade of pink as she catches her breath. They've been close for years, but something feels different about this moment. There's a palpable tension in the air, a feeling of unspoken love that's hard to ignore. Felix looks deep into Y/n's eyes, examining how the sun's warm glow illuminates them. The sound of waves crashing against the shore adds to the moment's magic. Fighting the urge to kiss her immediately, Felix takes a deep breath as he stares into her eyes. 
"Do you remember why I decided to return home for a break instead of staying in the dorms with the boys?" Puzzled by his random question, Y/n nods her head, looking back into his dark brown eyes. 
"Of course I do. It was because you wanted to be with your family since you were homesick, Lix."
"You're right. But there's something important that I need to tell you, something that should've been said from the very beginning. Y/n, I like you. I'm in love with you. I love you so much that it hurts not to have you by my side most days or even to call you mine. The night before I left Sydney, I intended to confess my feelings to you, but I knew it was bad timing since I was leaving, and I didn't want to end our friendship. So, I kept it to myself for years. However, seeing you with Liv and Hannah at our concert earlier this year, dancing and singing to our songs, made me realize that what I felt for you was more than just a simple grade school crush. Y/n, I'd be lying if I said you weren't the person I want to spend the rest of my life with because I do. I want you to be mine, my only sunshine. And if you don't feel the same way, I understand..."
Felix was toward the end of his sentence when Y/n suddenly cut him off by pressing her lips against his. It was a bold move, but she had been crushing on Felix for what felt like an eternity and couldn't hold back any longer. When they finally pulled away, Felix looked at Y/n with a knowing smile, pressing his forehead on hers. In a very soft voice, Felix finally finishes his sentence. 
"I cannot imagine spending a single day without you by my side anymore. Will you do me the greatest honor of all and be mine forever?
""Until forever stops existing, my love."
505 notes · View notes
withleeknow · 4 months
Text
remedy.
Tumblr media
pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort; implies that minho has anxiety, unedited bc i am me and you shouldn't expect much from me lmao word count: 1.2k note: hello hello!! i've been meaning to write this since the day of the rock-star comeback but i'm only getting around to finishing it now lol. but the timing's pretty neat so consider this a christmas present from me and mine to you and yours!! <33
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation › masterlist › ko-fi
Tumblr media
when the sun rouses you awake in the morning, you feel two arms loosely wrapped around you that weren't there before you fell asleep last night.
you smile to yourself, enjoying the warmth and comfort that he brings you. home, finally.
you turn in his hold, as gently as you can to not disturb your slumbering minho.
you don’t know when exactly he got back, but it couldn’t have been more than a couple of hours ago. sometimes, when he has night schedules, he doesn’t usually return until the sun is peeking over the horizon. you’re used to him having to work throughout the wee hours of the night every other week. you don’t like it, but you’re used to it.
you expect to find him snoozing peacefully beside you, with his handsome face and his lips parted cutely as he lightly snores, but when you finally shuffle around to look at him, you instantly frown.
a frown that matches his own.
baby, you think, what’s wrong?
even in his sleep, minho’s brows are knitted together, the corners of his mouth tugged downward like he’s having a bad dream. the instant concern that rushes through you parts the hazy fog in your brain, and then... you remember.
it was only half past three in the morning when your phone buzzed to life, the vibrations resounding brassily against the wooden surface of your nightstand. reaching out blindly for the device, you only needed to peek through one eye to scan the time and the caller id before you held it to your ear, your face still smushed against your fluffy pillow.
"hmm?"
"i'm sorry," minho was quick to apologize. "did i wake you?" he sounded rushed, like he had wandered off to a corner to steal a few minutes for himself before having to go back.
you made a noncommittal noise, already feeling the exhaustion luring you back to dreamland. it had been a long week and you'd endured five whole days just to get to the weekend, to be able to spend hours on end with your boyfriend. it'd be just you and him, wrapped up together in your cozy little bubble, all your stresses and troubles kept at bay. he was always the best part of your days, your weeks, your months, even your years.
even though you were drifting, you still managed to ask, "is everything okay?"
"yeah, everything’s fine. i just missed you."
it made you smile nonetheless. he didn’t often disturb you in the middle of the night just to be sappy with you whenever he was stuck working odd hours, but it wasn’t necessarily anything out of the ordinary. minho could still be needy and clingy sometimes. it was one of the things that you loved most about him - that he could be a grumpy cat most of the time, but underneath that prickly exterior, he was just a big softie. you loved it even more that you were the only person who could bring out that side of him.
"missed you too," you mumbled. it didn’t sound at all lively, but you knew he could tell that you meant it.
you caught a sigh from his end before he continued. though this time, he let his defenses down when he spoke. his voice came out along with a tired exhale, laced with something that you would’ve been able to pick up on had your mind not been delirious with sleep. "wanna be there with you," he said in earnest. "want you to be here with me."
"when are you coming home?" you asked, even though the words came out a little garbled, your voice heavy with sleep.
"in a couple hours. i'll be home right after this."
"okay. we can-" cue a big yawn. "we can stay in bed as long as you want in the morning."
"yeah, that sounds nice."
"then i’ll see you in a bit, okay?"
he paused briefly before his next words came out a little unsteady, hesitant. the unease with which he spoke bypassed your unassuming radar completely. "can we just stay on the phone?"
"min-"
"you don't have to talk to me. just... stay with me for a while."
you think you might've passed out again after that, the subsequent silence and his breathing on the other end having lulled you back to sleep in a matter of seconds.
my love, it brings tears to your eyes just thinking about it, how could i have missed it?
you quietly move closer to him, shuffling inch by inch until you’re chest to chest, hoping his body could sense your warmth and be comforted by it, even just a little bit. you press a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, but even that simple touch stirs him awake even though minho is usually a deep sleeper.
his eyes slowly open, and you suppose the tug on your heartstrings loosens when the furrow between his brows eases as he takes in the sight of you.
he heaves a sigh of relief, and it’s like you can actually see some of the tension leaving his body as he pulls you to him, holding you against him so tightly that it’s impossible to move even if you wanted to.
"hi," you say, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, snuggling further into him until it’s hard to tell if the heartbeat you feel is yours or his.
"hi," he replies, his soft lips placing a greeting kiss on the top of your head.
"bad day?" night, but oh well. technicalities. 
his answer comes muffled against your hair, though you feel the slight vibration of his chest when he mutters, "it wasn’t that bad. i was just a little overwhelmed."
"but it's better now?"
"much better, now that you’re here."
truthfully, you don’t really know what to say in moments like this. you want to be able to offer him reassuring words that could ease his nerves and calm his raging sea, but you’re not good with words. you never have been. you don’t think you ever will be, as much as you want to. for him.
it makes you feel guilty at times, not being able to give minho the peace he needs.
you do try though, to comfort him as much as you can.
"i love you," you say quietly. your arm wraps around him, your palm landing on his upper back where your fingers tenderly soothe the firm muscles you find. i'm sorry i wasn't there for you. i wish i have the right words to say to you.
"i could listen to you breathe and feel ten times better," he admits, putting some distance between your faces so he can look at you, as if it'll help emphasize his words. "i don’t even need you to do anything. i just need you. you’re more than enough for me."
his eyes bore into yours, glittering with nothing but a kind of sincerity that he never shows anyone but you. you kiss him then, soft and slow. you want to pour as much love into him as you possibly can. and even then you don't think it can amount to a fraction of what he deserves.
but nonetheless, you try. you try because he means the world to you.
i'll do better for you. let me share your burdens with you.
pulling away, you tell him, as your palm gently holds his cheek, a touch which he leans into instantaneously. "go back to sleep. i’ve got you."
Tumblr media
permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos
all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 25.12.2023]
511 notes · View notes
vampiretendencies · 1 year
Text
wonder how i got by this week, i only touched you once
Tumblr media
authors note; hi! this is my first but also not really my first jj piece. i had an old account here but i deleted it over a year ago, however my love for obx has not changed which explains why i am back lols. i am just testing the waters again here, and letting my thoughts go. i also proofread but sometimes not well enough so you may come across an error or two. gif and divider creds to owner. & feel free to send asks, guidelines for those are coming soon.
warnings; fluff, very clingy!jj, & language
summary; if jj could sow his skin to yours, he would.
pairing; jj maybank x fem!reader
Tumblr media
an imprint.
you were sure that was all that was going to be left of you on that twin mattress. not that you were deemed in your last moments of life or anything, but because your boyfriend’s grasp on you in his sleep is not suitable for the weak. it should be described as something resembling a death grip. body tinging with restlessness & the mere moments of having laid here wide away for the past two hours. jj’s body heat radiating onto you at a battle with the sun, that is currently piercing through jj’s bedroom window at the chateau. who knew delirium would gather as quickly as it did, every time you peered toward the bathroom you swore it got three feet farther. hair plastered to the sides of your face, you huffed out of frustration.
jj was damn near on top of you. legs wrapped miraculously around yours, twisting and tangling themselves together. his black boxers riding low, as his waste lovingly crushed yours. the sleep weight of him, was like jj plus two. not to be dramatic but you were gasping for air at one point. his top half, guided by his bottom half. skin sticking to skin, whilst you glistened with sweat, jj somehow still had features like that of angel. well, pardoning the snoring. the abs of his stomach glided against your ribs, hanging onto you as if you’d be gone with one goodbye. the tips of his disheveled blonde locks tickled your temple. mouth slack open, roaring desperately into your ear.
what anyone would be thinking right now is, why not just fucking get up ?
two issues with that. the stickiness of your skin unattaching itself from his was sure to wake him up. anytime you made something even resembling a movement he found a way to force you close into him. and he would never let your hear the end of it, he’d make certain to whine and complain all day about “how you wouldn’t love him back” or some shit like that. he’s definitely more dramatic than you, however this was not cuddling. this was a bear hugging a tree and you were his tree to mangle and rip apart whenever he saw fit.
the other issue being, jj’s room has miscellaneous trash littering the entirety of it. in an instant, if your leg were to loom over the side of jj’s bed the crackling of a beer can or a water bottle was going to crush beneath your foot.
“fuck me,” you silently cursed yourself.
nearly approaching three pm, is what jj’s alarm clock read. you still to this day wonder why such an unproductive, procrastinating type person has the need for one, but that’s just jj.
you’d decided you couldn’t bear taking it anymore, combination of hot breath shelling your ear mixed with the stench of muggy air. you craved a shower, brushing your teeth, to piss for Christ’s sake, and your personalized skin care routine if you could muster up enough time to do so …
wriggling a tad, you pulled back the limp limb that is his arm which has been thrown over your neck for best part of his slumber. jj being a light sleeper, it was stupid of you to even attempt. within milliseconds his arm is thrown over your collar bone, whisping you into him once again. out of instinct a minuscule peck was placed to your ear lobe, his breaths interrupted by your movement. a faint grumble between his lips, signaling for you to keep your ass still.
but, you simply could not. you were going to get up, and you refused to feel horrid for it because jj has had well over his ‘must have’ eight hours of sleep.
“j,” you gulped. contemplating today’s reaction of the constant battle, you blink slowly awaiting his response.
a hm escaped jj’s lips, barely awake but staying awake because his girl never deserved to be ignored.
“let me up,” on the brink of a demand, his eyes opened fully at that, furrowing eyebrows out of frustration.
jj wanted you to save him until the both of you were buried alive. he hungered to be inside of your skin. the true depth of being his girlfriend, you already acknowledged those things. there’s no showering alone, there’s no eating alone, no going to the bathroom alone, you don’t remember the last time you did your own makeup alone. he knew that if he was going to be with someone it could not be just anyone, the dynamic had to work. he was aware of his neediness and constant clinging, you were as well, before you even begun dating you had the willingness to admit you always had a soft spot for jj. you weren’t sure if it was the empath in you and the sheerness of being a human being. he’d been abandoned and abused since he was young, you wouldn’t be the one to return the favor.
the both of you just work.
it makes sense that the passion and the ethereal ache for want has never left, loves you just the same as the day he met you in eighth grade.
bringing him to his now decision as to wether or not he wanted to actually let you up or to fuck with you.
“stay with me.”
he uttered; partially truthful, partially not. he despised the feeling of the empty bed settling in if you were to get up, though he’d known you were due for a piss right about now.
“i have to get up, m’all sweaty and you aren’t helping.”
your explanation was understandable, but he still wasn’t having it. an eternity encompassed in your affections was a dream, and living in that dream he would presume possible for as long as you’d allow him.
“suffer a few more minutes.”
“j, i’m serious.”
he edged a tight lipped smile, noticing the eye roll and glistening beauty of your forehead. eyes inspecting you as though it was the first time. your sports bra adorned just how he’d liked, chest rising and falling faster then usual, appearing as if you’d ran a mile and then some. something so sweet about the scent of your skin, he’d breathe in continuously saturating his senses in the symphony that is you.
“what’s a man gotta do for few more minutes hm?”
he’s atop you now, hands at either side of your head. towering over to make eye contact— a sign that you yearned for him as he did you.
staring up at him, a yes is on the tip of your tongue but you’ve sacrificed enough of your day dedicated to cuddling jj. shuffling his weight onto one hand his thumb dusted past your chin and to your cheek bone, trying to lull you back in all at once. tilting your head in a swift movement, he lowers himself itching to press your unearthly soft lips with his. you did not oblige, smashing a hand to his lips.
“you’re not getting a kiss.”
“then you aren’t getting up,” he chimed. “as easy as that, baby.”
“jj! i am hot, and i smell like ass, if you don’t let me up don’t expect a kiss at all.”
you bargained, unable to win this fight you’d be giving in within minutes.
“well, i for one, like hot ass .. your hot ass in particular.”
your throat ran dry, willing to just do it out of desperation for a shower. the feathered blonde of his hair wavered as his head turned about, with the click of his tongue murmuring a muffled tick tock against the back of your hand.
“one fucking kiss jj.”
you’d agreed, hand faintly falling backward as you embraced him. your lips pucker for a slight peck but jj had far more in mind. the peck tainted his lips, the peck was for hurries only. jj ruled this as a no hurry situation though to you it was past a hurry. when you pull away from the peck, jj writhes his hand around your neck gently. wrestling his pair of lips with yours, teeth pulling at your lip for entrance, and you didn’t find yourself pulling away. two tongues swiveling and swirling just the way jj liked. God, he just could not get enough of the way your tongue molded with his. besotted that they fit together just right.
you break the trance, not allowing jj to reel you back in again.
“gotta brush my teeth now, j.”
your voice somewhat pleaded, a small boyish pout forming. groaning and all the extras accompanying jj maybank.
“okay okay, i’ll give you a few.”
rolling off of you, he gave way for you to do all that you pleased. you grinned his way as he sent a toothy one back. you felt free, as you did all the times before you had to force jj off of you. you could move and you did so at a rapid pace, before the whining begun. kicking beer cans out of the way you seemed to take your first step to the bathroom but that is until the palm of jj’s hand collides with the bottom of your ass.
“hurry up, you sexy motherfucker!”
your cheeks tainted red at his outburst, all of the cut could’ve heard it. but you laugh with ease, at your attention seeking boyfriend.
“won’t be long okay?”
you offer him a hug, a show of infatuation; before you were officially off to the bathroom, with intentions of closing the door. he encapsulates you, swallowing you whole with his arms. he peppered multiple kisses to your forehead.
“don’t shower without me, pretty girl.”
2K notes · View notes
nicksolemnlyswears · 7 months
Text
HAN LUE HEADCANONS PT. 3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: han lue x waitress!reader
word count: 8.7k
warnings: smut
notes: part 3 is finally here! so sorry for the delay. i wanna say thank you for all the love on part 1 and 2 as well as in the requests. this will be the last part of the waitress!reader headcanons for now. i left the ending open to give myself space to come back and add more if i'd like. i've been thinking of doing a mini series of han and that other person that comes up in the end (sorry im trying not to give anything away).
if you guys want me to expand on any part of the headcanons even if it's just a one liner let me know and maybe i can write a small drabble or oneshot on it.
i have my fingers crossed that you like how it turns out. i definitely have a favorite part of this particular part of the headcanons. again, thank you! enjoy!
ps. want to add a little warning that these headcanons might not be the most grammatically correct in terms of punctuation just because i don't go deep editing. it's a choice i make but if you've read my oneshots you know i am better than this lol.
PT.2
Tumblr media
-everyone has a side of the bed, you and han are not an exception. from the first moment you slept over at han's the side farthest from the door has been your side.
-on a random day the conversation comes up and you ask han why the side closest to the door is his side. he tells you it's in case an intruder were to break in (which is highly unlikely) you'd have time to escape.
-lowkey all this time you guessed he picked that side because it's right under the ac vent and he gets hot at night. so you call out his bullshit and he admits that's partly the reason, but what he said remains true, it's safer for him to be right by the door. ridiculous because there is no way you are going to run away and leave han to fend for himself.
-talking about apartments and sides of beds. when you moved out of your place you brought along a box or two of knick knacks that couldn't be stored in a warehouse. you placed them strategically around han’s (now both of yours) apartment.
-han admits he likes having a shared space with you. you gave it a different flare with your decorations. or simply, you took away the fact that it was a former bachelor pad.
-he likes coming home to you everyday. whenever you stay with mindy, for one reason or another, it feels lonely. something he'd never felt before. it's like somewhere along the way he got attached to you and now he's constantly seeking you out.
-one thing han detests though is the abundance of pillows on his bed. you don’t even use all of them! before going to bed you throw them by the chair on the corner of the room. he says it's pointless, you say it's decor.
-because you have a semi normal schedule now you have more time to visit han at his garage. you make sure to talk a bit with reiko and han's other friends but most of the time he steals you away from them.
-if the crew at han's garage is not careful they run the risk of finding you and han in compromising positions. you try to prevent han from getting carried away but it's hard when you want him just as much. you've had to apologize to twinkie and sean one too many times. poor boys can't even look you in the eyes after what they've witnessed.
-han is the type of guy to tell you to check something out under the hood of the car despite you warning him you don't know shit about cars. he couldn't care less, it's an excuse to see your ass bent over his car.
-you would be talking to him about how it all looks like a bunch of scrap metal when you feel him pressing up against your backside. you'd look over your shoulder and han would say 'everyone went out to grab a bite. thought i'd have mine right here, baby.'
-you would roll your eyes at him but would push up against him nonetheless. in record time he'd push down your pants and underwear and sink his cock into you. you hang on to whatever part of the car you can as han thrusts repeatedly into you. 'you look so fucking pretty, baby. should’ve gotten you like this sooner.’
-all this time you're moaning and calling out his name. until he suddenly slaps his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. with slow deep thrusts he'd lean down to whisper in your ear 'fuck, baby. they're back, but don't worry i'm almost done. just keep quiet for me.'
-han knows his way around your body so with precise touches to your clit and the angle of his thrusts he makes you cum quickly which prompts his orgasm as well. his near silent grunts are music to your ears.
-by the time sean comes looking for him han is bent besides you on the car pointing at something called a radiator. had he been there 5 seconds earlier he would've found han tucking himself into his jeans and you pulling up your pants.
-with han's help you get the restaurant running in eight months. it was a long eight months filled with work, day and night. the old diner was remodeled in its entirety which included kitchen, storage area, and dining space.
-you lovingly named the restaurant CATCH MY DRIFT. it's cheesy and punny but you love it. you found it necessary to pay homage to han in some way.
-the soft launch is successful thanks to your staff, some of which are the same people you worked with when it was a diner. you and han invited friends and other important people who would help spread the word about your little restaurant.
-mindy was in charge of the restaurants social media. she made it her mission to help you succeed and she did a wonderful job. she took beautiful pictures of both the restaurant and you. the socials began gaining a following pretty quickly thanks to her and her abilities.
-after the first official day of the restaurant being open and all the staff left, you prepared a table with candles and rose petals. there is one last person you had to serve for the night.
-han had been there with you through it all. he's been your support through every sleepless night and anxiety attack due to your fear of failing. he made last minute runs to get anything you might've forgotten and forced you on aimless drives around town to get your mind off things.
-han made your dream a reality. han wove himself seamlessly through all your hopes and dreams and became an integral part of them. now you can't see your life without him by your side.
-han returned to the restaurant under the impression he was going to pick you up. you might not work the night shift as a waitress anymore and you know how to drive now too, but he'll always pick you up and take you home. it gives him time to talk to you before you go through your night routine, head to bed and he heads out to the races or any other errand he has to run.
-when he enters he sees the romantic setting and you waiting for him in a beautiful red dress. you smiled softly at him and took his hand in yours.
"what's all this?" han asks, following you to the table where you pull his chair out for him.
"it's a thank you," you say, walking around the table to find your seat that faces him.
"you didn't have to, baby. you've been working all day," han shakes his head, although there's a grin plastered in his face. he appreciates what you've done.
you've told him countless times how much it means to you everything he's done. the moment he walked into your life he changed it all for the better.
"maybe i didn't, but i wanted to. all of this was possible because of you," you tell him, grabbing his hand that lays on the table, "will you let me start making it up to you?"
-it's come up on your late night conversations how you're guilty of han spending so much money on you. the last thing you want is to make him believe you're with him for the money. so you take each opportunity that presents itself to make it up to him.
"alright. what you got?" han asks.
you uncover the dinner plates to reveal a simple bacon burger with fries. no pickles. han's smile spreads even further touched by the gesture. it's been a long time since he's had one of these.
"i figured you missed your order considering i have been feeding you fancy dishes all these months," you chuckle, remembering all the tastings han had to go through. "i'll always have a stock of burgers and fries just for you. all you have to do is ask."
"have i told you i love you," han says, lacing your fingers together.
you hum quietly, pretending to think and say, "not today." you bring his hand up to your lips, kissing the back of it.
"i love you, baby," han repeats for the first time today but for the thousandth time since he said it first.
-there are times where han runs out of his snacks and doesn't have access to a store immediately. wether it's because he's at the races or driving around the country side or any other reason.
-when this happens he gets really antsy. he'll pick at loose threads, or at the skin around his fingers, he'll drum his fingers against something, or his leg will bounce. it's very noticeable that something is bothering him.
-it happens while on a trip around europe. han planned it as a vacation for the two of you for your second anniversary. he (you) had exhausted all his snacks and you were about an hour away from civilization. an idea suddenly pops into your head, han wants to have his hands and lips busy and you have the perfect thing.
-you take off your seatbelt and lean over the center consol. han doesn't question you until you kiss his cheek down to his neck.
"what're you doing, baby?" he murmurs, his eyes briefly looking at you before they return to the long stretch of pavement.
"making you crave something else," you whisper in his ear, biting his earlobe.
"get in my lap," he immediately responds. han's pretty tall so there's a huge gap between his chest and the steering wheel, leaving his lap free for you to sit on. 'if i fits i sits' style.
-you don't hesitate, since you've adopted han's risky behavior. once in his lap he catches his lips on yours. the focus he has to maintain on the road while kissing you is enough to make him forget his cravings.
-you eventually forget what lead you to this as you get lost in the kiss. it's not often you get to take the upper hand. taking advantage of the situation you slip your tongue inside han's mouth, massaging his tongue with yours.
-when he makes it to a gas station in the middle of nowhere he parks far away from the pump. you whine about having to walk the long distance to the convenience store.
"i need you now, baby," he grunts, grabbing the back of your neck to smash his lips against yours and showing you his true intentions.
"hannie this car is tiny, it'll be so uncomfortable," you whine against his lips.
"it's either the half a millon car or the public bathroom," he breathes, lifting your dress without waiting for your answer.
"i can make it work here," you huff, straddling him. you bump your head on the roof of the car but han quickly pulls you down flush against his covered cock.
"that's what i thought," he groans into your mouth as you grind against him.
-when you finish your risky endeavor you stumble out of the car and speed to the bathroom to clean yourself. han goes inside to grab snacks and pay for gas. he grabs snacks for you as well seeing that was what led him to run out in the first place. you made up for it in your own way though.
-in terms of your family, you haven't talked to them in about four years. once you spoke up about hating your college major and the fact you were gonna switch they presented you with a choice. continue the path your father paved for you or leave.
-you gave it a lot of thought. you finished your semester and everything. but in the end you decided you didn't want it. you hated your classes and was miserable. so you left. and your father told you not to come back unless you got your priorities straight.
-mindy took you in, let you live with her while you found a new place to live and a job. without your parents support you couldn't afford the culinary school you wanted to go to. with what little savings you had you got your apartment and soon found a job in the american themed diner.
-the diner was your saving grace. they let you stay on the overnight shifts. you didn't have a family to go to, you didn't exactly go to school during the day either, so it worked.
-you had other jobs along with the diner but none lasted and then han came along and it all changed for the better.
-you think about your family often. you remember your parents and sisters birthday and the anniversaries. when those days come along you keep yourself occupied.
-one night you and your staff are cleaning after a long shift and the door chimes as someone enters. you ignore it believing it's han that's come to give you company and take you home, but someone clearing their throat makes you look up.
-your mom stands there, she's still the same as the last day you saw her. her clothes are as expensive as ever, her shoes and bag matching perfectly.
"i thought i'd find you here," she speaks smoothly with her head held high as she assesses the restaurant.
"how did you find me?" you ask not giving her the pleasure to have your full attention as you finish wiping down tables.
"there's been buzz going around about a brand new restaurant. one of my friends came and saw you," she goes silent. "she was right, it's a nice place, is this all yours?"
"is there something you want?" you ask her, finally facing her. you didn't feel inclined to go on to explain your mysteriously wealthy boyfriend funded it.
"we need to talk," she tells you plainly as if she hasn't lost the right to speak to you.
"we're talking," you huff, ignoring the true meaning of her words.
"in private," your mom grits, grabbing hold of your arm much like when you were younger and refused to listen.
-to avoid a scene you know she's fully capable of making you guide her to your office. it's simply decorated with a desk and a few chairs scattered around. there's a white board on the wall where you write down your menu ideas and to do lists. there are also sticky notes on it that han has left behind throughout the months. some are sweet and encouraging and some are naughtier with innuendos and inside jokes.
"talk," you say when she stands in the middle of the room taking it all in.
"is that a way to treat your mother?" she scolds you.
"we haven't seen each other in four years and you suddenly come here. just say what you have to say," you angrily exclaim, crossing your arms over your chest.
"i never agreed with what your father did," she then reveals.
"and yet you didn't do a single thing about it. either way, he got his perfect daughter" you humorlessly laugh, referring to your sister who did everything your father expected of you. "is that why you're here? to suddenly apologize?"
"i want you to come back home," she responds.
you shake your head, "that's not happening. i have a life and i can't drop it just because you want me to. besides it's not like dad wants me there."
"he does, he's too stubborn to admit it, please come back," your mother pleads, forcefully grabbing your hand in hers.
"why now? i refuse to believe this is coming out of nowhere." you rip your hand from hers and a disappointed expression crosses her face.
"your dad is sick. the doctors don't think he has a lot of time," she gulps, turning her back to you.
you're quiet as you process her words, "i'll think about it. if you'll excuse me i have a restaurant to take care of."
you leave her behind and see her walk out of the restaurant soon after. your mind remains busy there after as you mull over her words.
-days go by of constantly thinking about it. han notices the moment he picks you up that night but wants to give you time to bring it up. except you don't.
-three days later he finds you in his bathroom, deep in your thoughts in his bathtub, the water a bright pink from a bathbomb you must've used.
-he gets in the tub with you. the water is still hot as he sinks in and sits behind you. you must've gotten in not long ago. instantly you relax against him. han wraps his arms around you, tracing figures against your stomach and thighs.
"rough week, baby?" he murmurs in your ear.
"mm yes, the delivery came late, not once but twice. burned my finger, cut my finger, burnt some food, feel like a loser," you list out, rubbing his thighs which are around you.
"it's one bad week, among a sea of other good ones," he reminds you, lacing his hands with yours.
"hope so or i'm retiring at the ripe age of twenty six," you smile, turning your head slightly to kiss his jaw.
"it's okay. i'll be your sugar daddy," he jokes with you. although he definitely would be your sugar daddy if you decide not to work another day in your life.
-theres a glass of wine by the bathtub that han notices. you only drink wine when something is troubling you. with gentle coaxing han convinces you to tell him what's been on your mind.
-it's he who convinces you to go and see your dad at least once. he put into perspective you might regret it in the future. you're not doing it for them, you're doing it for yourself.
-you contact your mom and tell her your decision. she invites you over for dinner. it'll be just the four of you. you didn't want to bring han in case all hell broke loose.
-as you get ready han helps you with the clasp of your high heels. you prop your foot in his knee, your dress riding up, revealing your black lacy underwear. he takes the opportunity to caress your leg from your thigh down to your ankle. he'd buckle the strap of the heels he gifted you that make your ass look great and then he'd kiss your knee.
-han would repeat the process on your other leg too. only that after you straighten up he'd pull you down to his lap to kiss you and try to convince you to a quicky. just this once you don't give in. you don't want to cast a bad impression by being late to see your family for the first time in four years.
-nervously you knock on the door. your mom answers and she welcomes you in. it's oddly strange to be back in this house, you feel out of place. you peep the wall where your parents measured you and your sister when you were growing up. the dent on the wall you caused using your bike inside. your childhood is present still.
-your mom failed to mention she didn't tell anyone you were coming as your sister is quick to stand "what is she doing here?"
"i invited her," your mom tell her.
your dad is quiet as you take a seat where you always sat when you lived there. there's an unbearable silence until he speaks, "can i ask why the sudden appearance?"
"mom told me about your situation," you tell him with a frown.
"what situation?" he prompts, looking at your mother.
"that your sick...although you look pretty healthy to me," you softly say, redirecting your gaze towards your mother.
"i lied yes, but i thought this was the only way to get you here," she shakily admits, secretly hoping you don't up and leave.
"mom, oh god," you sigh in relief. your shoulder no longer holding the weight of your father possibly dying.
"do you realize how fucked up that is?" your sister adds.
"it got her here!" your mom yells, making everyone go quiet.
-the rest of dinner goes by as normal as it can. your parent ask you about your new life and everything you've been doing. it was agonizing. you answer most of their question albeit reluctantly.
-the question you've been dreading comes up. 'are you dating anybody?' you tell them you're in a two year and a half relationship.
-you avoid saying he's the one that funded the restaurant. you owe everything to han but if you tell them it was him who put in the money they will probably discredit you and your abilities.
-your dad calls you over to his office to talk after dinner, your sister glares at you, she's upset you chose to leave, cause it means you turned your back to the whole family. she believes you're selfish because you 'forced' the family business onto her.
-you emptily apologize for coming home when he told you not. surprisingly he asks you about your new priorities and although they don't necessarily align with what he had in mind for you, he accepts them and asks you to be around more.
-more importantly he apologizes for what he did. he had a health scare recently and realize he wanted you by his side (it’s where your mom got the idea). after talking to him you leave. going back to talking to your family will be hard because for the longest time you suppressed it.
-han waits for you back home, your true home. he's watching tv, an old japanese movie from the 90s. you tell him all about your family dinner and how your mom lied but he was right. you would've regretted not going.
-feeling good about your night you give in to han's advances. throughout the night he couldn't shake off the sight of you in your pretty dress and heels. he doesn't ruin the illusion as he only takes off your panties. the dress and heels stay on as he fucks you, your legs pressed to your chest as he wants to be as deep and close to you as possible.
-while your parents want you back in their life you don't instantly go back, choosing to show them you got back on your feet without them. you have a new life.
-but once your moms birthday rolls around you don't feel the need to busy yourself, instead you pick up the phone and give her a call wishing her a 'happy birthday'.
-han eventually meets your family. your mom is instantly charmed by him so much so that by the end she has him calling her by her first name. he certainly made a great impression with the flowers and expensive earrings he picked out for her.
-your dad takes longer to come around but by the end of the night han has him wrapped around his pinky finger as well. your dad likes that he's a 'business man'. if only he knew how shady han really is.
-in just in a few hours they were able to see how much you and han care for each other. it's in the way han searches for you in the busy room. he looks out for you constantly in a non-possessive way. or the way you constantly reach out for him to hold his hand or wrap his arm around you.
-han is not one for big and elaborate love gestures. he believes in showing his love and appreciation everyday with smaller gestures. like restocking your skin care products when you're running low or leaving hand warmers on your coat pockets in the cold winters or buying take out of whatever food you're craving.
-he listens to you when you rant about your interests like the new season of Game of Thrones or about a new compilation that came out of your favorite artist. he'd make an effort to learn about it just so he can have an input in your conversation. han loves the way your eyes light up whenever he voices out an opinion, especially when it goes against yours.
-'friendly' debates are your thing as a couple. it's coincidental that in some minor things your opinions are different. like if the dress is 'black and blue' or 'gold and white'. you swear its black and blue but han insists it's not.
-the same goes for you, because you see all the effort han makes for you, you try and learn about cars and drifting and learn the names of whatever technique is popular. you learn about his favorite foods and favorite movies (which are mostly american and from the 90s) and tag along for the occasional race.
-han's favorite way of showing you his love is with colorful post-it notes. you'd often find them in your office in the restaurant, in the mirror you use to get ready for the day, the fridge door, on your kitchen counter along with your favorite chocolate bar. you'd even find them on the depths of your purse.
-funny thing is you've never caught him sticking them anywhere. so it's always a fun surprise.
'don't worry about lunch today. i'll stop by the restaurant with your favorite! -h'
'i love you, baby -h'
'roses are red, violets are blue, i love you, let’s go screw -h'
'cutie pie ;) -h'
'stop stealing my peanut crackers :( -h'
'you're both my favorite chef and my favorite meal -h'
-after two and a half years of dating han you finally get the opportunity to meet the toretto crew. they would be staying in japan for about a month in a mansion they rented out in the mountains.
-han is beyond excited that his friends are visiting. he constantly talks about them and has all these plans for when they arrive.
-you're nervous to say the least. this is his chosen family and he's been through so much with them. gisele was part of that family too and you feel the pressure of being compared to her once you meet them.
-you convince han to go meet up with then first and you'd join them later that night. you didn't want him to wait so long for you to finish work. besides in your mind it's better if he catches up with them before you get there. you wanted him to enjoy being with his friends without worrying about you.
-when the day finally comes you say goodbye to a sleepy han, go prep the restaurant, work your butt off for the day and once you clos the restaurant you go to mindy's house to get ready.
-you visit her to distract yourself and to have someone call you ridiculous for being afraid of meeting han's friends. it also helps as she distracts you with talk of her newish relationship.
-as you scramble through your toiletry bag looking for a hair tie, you push away your deodorant, tampons, dry shampoo. but you come back to the tampons realizing it's been over six weeks since your last cycle...
"mindy!"
"i know what i said was out of bounds but he called me a dramatic bitch!" mindy exclaims from her spot on the bed where she scrolls through instagram.
"tampons!" you yell, pulling them out of your bag.
"what about them?" she asks, looking at you over her phone.
"i haven’t used them.”
"you want me to give you a prize or something?" she mumbles, shooting you a strange look.
"no, mindy, no. i haven't gotten my period!' you begin pacing around the room with the box of tampons in your grasp.
mindy jumps from the bed and begins panicking as well, “oh, we'e going through this. we're having the pregnancy scare, how exciting! every pair of best friends have to go through this."
-mindy runs to the pharmacy on her block to get you a pregnancy test while you chug down two water bottles. she gets you one of each test they had. you had to pee but your nerves made it difficult. mindy forced you to chug down a soda too cause if you don’t pee wilingly you'll do it forcefully.
-through all this mess han calls you. he's been expecting you for the past hour. everyone is excited to meet you. he's spoken so much about you and your name has slipped past his lips a few times during the day. they can tell he's more than obsessed with you.
"hey baby, are you on your way?"
you’re dressed but your makeup is barely done. considering the stress you’re currently going through you definitely have to put on some makeup.
mindy motions to you to respond as she holds your phone on you hands because you were washing your hands free of pee.
"h-hey hannie, two more minutes and ill be on my way. mindy is going to take me," you scrunch your eyes at the stutter. you never stutter!
"okay, let me know when you're nearly here," he says unsure.
"mhm, bye," you say, motioning for mindy to hang up.
"girl that wasn't smooth. he knows something is up," she flat out tells you.
"you're not helping," you grumble.
-while the three minutes tick away mindy forces you to sit and have a chat. she asks if you’ve talked to han about a future together. marriage and kids and the whole deal. she asks what you want to do if the result comes back positive. she’s cool being the fun cool aunt but if you don’t want to go through with it she’ll be your confidant and drive you to the clinic.
-once your phone alarm goes off you walk into the bathroom alone. with a racing heart you turn on the phone to record yourself because be damned you don't have this reaction to show han later. baby or not.
-one test after another you turn them around with shaky hands and they all say the same thing, p o s i t i v e
-you sob not out of sadness but overwhelmed. this is so messy. you just got the restaurant running, you're not married and you are expecting a baby. the only thing that seems right is that it's the love of your life's baby.
-you step out the bathroom ten long minutes after. with one look mindy knows all she has to know. she helps you finish getting ready, puts drops in your eyes to reduce the redness and drives you over to han. on the way out you give yourself a look in the mirror but you look just the same. you're only a couple of weeks along it would be crazy to see a difference so soon but you already know everything is different.
-mindy drops you off after hyping you up all the way to your destination.
"thanks for bringing her," han says, helping you out the suv.
"anytime, she might have her license but there’s no way i’m letting her drive." she jokes at your expense.
"i’m not that bad a driver. you just don’t let me practice," you defend yourself.
-han grabs your hand and your bag and walks you to the front door, you can hear music and chatter from his friends. but he stops before going on.
-he asks if you’re okay. and you tell him you’re nervous, a half lie. han nods in understanding. ‘they’ll love you, baby.’
-he kisses your lips lightly before opening the door because he hasn’t seen you all day and he missed you. but of course roman pierce has to interrupt. he opens the door, interrupting their moment, ‘aye! she's here han is hogging her.’
-roman insists he knows japanese and tries greeting you using the language. you respond fully in japanese just to fuck with him, even adding the bow in your greeting. he bows back and just stares back with an empty smile. he did not understand a word you just said.
-han pushes past him and leads you to where everyone is gathered. he introduces you to everyone and you say 'hi, it's nice to finally meet all you. i've heard so much!'
roman stands besides han with a scowl and whispers. ‘man you could’ve told me she speaks english.’
-you are received with open arms as han introduces you to everyone that came along. dominic, letty, mia, brian, tej, roman, ramsey and all of their kids. it’s nice to be able to place faces to the names you’ve heard for the last two years.
-with you now present they ask all about how you and han met, eager to view your perspective. you respond as much as you can, laughing at the quirky remarks the others throw. they tease han like never before and he deserves it because he went MIA for three years.
-it's enough to make you forget momentarily about the pregnancy tests in your overnight bag. until letty offers you a beer, you pause but react quick enough where no one notices your hesitation. you'll just have to sneak your way around this one.
-han is a lot more reserved around the toretto crew than when he's around sean or twinkie. there's no big in-your-face make out sessions or random gropes of your ass. he respects the crew to much to subject them to that.
-doesn't mean he's not constantly attached to you. throughout the night han has his arm around your shoulders or his hand pressed on the small of your back. it helps a lot ease your nerves when facing the room of friendly strangers.
-eventually the subject of your restaurant comes up. you barely get the name out when ramsey squeals in excitement. turns out she's a big foodie with an instagram account and on her to-do list for japan is visiting your restaurant. she didn't know you were the same person until now. 'you're all welcome whenever you'd like. i'm there most of the week,' you tell the bunch.
-as the hours go by the crew starts turning in for the night. han pulls you up from the couch you were sitting on and guides you to a room.
"what did you think?" han asks as you both change into your pajamas.
"you were right they are all very welcoming. even if i have only known them for a few hours i see you guys have a very familial relationship."
you sit on the edge of the bed with your head hanging. the weight of your secret is crushing you down, your stomach has been swirling since you and han retreated to the bedroom.
han stands in front of you, tilting your head up to look at him. his eyes are soft as he rubs his thumb across your cheek. "what's wrong, baby?"
"'you love me, right?" your eyes fill with tears. suddenly feeling an unreasonable fear in the pit of your stomach. han has shown you more than enough times how much he loves you.
"more than anyone i have ever loved," he assures you. han is concerned. you've never been overly emotional and nothing has happened that he's aware off.
you hug him by the waist, burying your head on his stomach. he hugs you back, holding your head and running a hand up and down your back.
you pull back from his embrace, wiping your tears and some snot and manage to hiccup your news, 'hannie, i-i'm pregnant.'
han freezes momentarily. he thinks he heard you incorrectly but he couldn't have. your words were clear. leaning down in front of you so he's level with your- still not showing-belly he gasps, "we're having a baby?"
-one nod of yours causes a tsunami of questions. when did you find out? how? are you happy? how far along? boy or girl?
-han is over the moon. he is taken aback by just how happy he feels. he wants this but he thought it wouldn't happen for another year or two. the baby is more than welcome though.
-just earlier today he had been thinking about having kids with you as he watched the o'conner and toretto children run around.
-with both of your emotions running high han pulls you close and kisses you like never before. he takes you to bed and fucks you hard and deep and slow. him on top of you, never ceasing his attack on your lips. whenever he does it’s to tell you he loves you and how happy you��ve made him. it's like he wants to get you pregnant all over again.
-'wait, is that why you were switching our beers earlier?' han asks when you’re laying in bed, your head on his chest. you laugh at his question, having forgotten your attempts at not drinking alcohol.
-at around 4 am you and han sneak to the kitchen where you make a snack. you were starving and so was han. he sits you on the kitchen counter as you eat. he stands between your thighs speaking softly about future plans with your baby now included in them.
-'it's 4 am, don't you two sleep?' its tej who came downstairs for water. he shakes his head in disapproval at the two of you going back to his bedroom once he got his water.
-letty is the one to bring up the happiness that oozes out of you and han the following days, 'you two look awfully happy.'
"got some good news the other day," han softly drawls, "you want to tell them?"
you're sitting on his lap with his hand wrapped around your waist as you nod, "we're expecting a little lue."
-the crew is nearly as happy as the two of you. they congratulate the both of you. the girls whipping you away from han to ask all the questions and give you any advice you might need. the guys tease han about not wasting any time with you.
-han is surprised yet not because you two go at it like rabbits. he's surprised he didn't get you knocked up before then. your birth control must've given up.
-han is happy, he is content, he is satisfied. you're pregnant and having his baby. the crew visiting tokyo only amplified his joy. not even roman's teasing put a dent on him.
-as he's talking to dom, brian and tej a question comes up. is han going to ask you to marry him? his response is simple. no. or at least not yet. he doesn't want to ask you to marry him just because he knocked you up. when he asks he wants you to be sure that it's because he wants it too. and he does want it right now, he adores you. the baby only put his plans to propose on pause. he knows you're the one for him, he's known for a while and he's in no rush.
-his life has consisted about running and races and winning. but with you it's different. he feels like he can slow down and take things at his own leisure pace. make things right and give you everything you deserve.
-you've never called han daddy. it's not your kink and you don't think it's his either considering he hasn't asked you to call him that. now that you're expecting you have teasingly been calling him that. he finds it endearing to say the least.
he passes you something across the table? 'thanks daddy'
'can daddy do the dishes?'
'mommy has a craving for rocky road ice cream, do you think daddy will be good and get some for me baby?' you ask looking down at your belly.
-pregnancy is not kind to you at first. in the first trimester, everything you eat ends up flushed down the toilet. you're miserable. han sympathizes with you and helps you out as much as he can. holds your hair back, rubs your back, prepares your toothbrush, etc.
-because of all the puking you barely show at first until suddenly you popped and the nausea stopped in the second trimester. that's when you started noticing the pregnancy glow and felt cute enough to highlight your bump with your clothes.
-han is obsessed with it. each night when he goes to sleep he puts a hand on your bump and talks to the baby. whether you're asleep or not. he'll rub his hand on your stomach soothing any pain or nausea you might feel.
-han goes with you to each and every doctors appointment. he doesn't dare miss one. he loves when the doctor sets up the ultrasound and the baby starts shaping up and taking form as the weeks go by.
-han keeps a picture of an ultrasound in his car. along with one of you two. it's everything he loves all in one place.
-han is the first to feel the baby kick surprisingly. it's one of those nights he returned home from the races. he settled in bed and touched your growing belly. it's slick from all the oils and lotions you apply to try and prevent stretch marks. then he feels it a small 'thud' he thinks he imagines it, until it happens again.
"baby, wake up," he softly calls you, rousing you from sleep.
"what's wrong, hannie?" you mutter with your eyes still closed.
"the baby is kicking," he whispers, grabbing your hand and placing it where he felt the kick. his hand over yours.
"no, it's no- oh my god, it is," you shiver finding the sensation a bit strange at first. you spend the next hour just waiting to feel the baby kick again.
-when you tell your parents you're pregnant they become the most doting grandparents ever. they start buying everything and anything they can get their hands on. it's their first grandchild and most of their friends already have grandchildren. they want to be the best. plus, they feel like they owe it to you for what they did.
-although han's apartment is bigger than yours you don't believe it's big enough for a baby. you spend months apartment hunting until you find the perfect place. a three bedroom, two bathroom penthouse.
-you insisted it was too much space but han reassured you it's not. because he wants more children and he doesn't want to move again when you have another baby. your words were:
'give me a break hannie, i haven't even pushed the first out. let's see how it goes."
-with pregnancy a woman goes through many changes. besides your bump han's favorite is still your tits which have grown larger. he notices that change instantly, but with each gain there is a loss. the piercings had to go. you also tease han that now he'll have to share.
-not surprisingly pregnancy does a number on you and you get hornier than ever. it's like constantly ovulating and having to be pounded. which doesn't make sense cause you're already pregnant.
-it's not something han finds himself complaining about. it's fun to explore the changes your body is going through and how the sensations shift. like how your nipples get very sensitive in your pregnancy and how han takes advantage of that.
-you go on a journey of finding your self-love once more. the changes your body go through are out of your control, they are necessary to sustain the life inside of you and yet some made you insecure.
-the love you felt for your bump at first then made you insecure as it grew larger and stretch marks decorated it. you're not used to the sight. sure you've always had some faded ones on your thighs or your boobs but you've had them for so long you got used to them. these were long and red and they made you cry.
-for about a week you felt so insecure and looked for ways around being intimate with han because if you hate them surely he will too.
"lets get this off, baby," han says, pulling up your silky night dress up your thighs.
"no, no, let's keep it on," you laugh it off, holding hans hands with yours.
"alright, what's going on?" he asks, leaving his hands on your thighs and squeezing them lovingly.
"what do you mean?" you feign innocence.
"baby, don't think i haven't noticed you've been covering up and acting strange."
you avoid his gaze but he cups your cheek and returns it back to his. "i'm scared you won't like the way i look now," you mutter.
"are you joking? i've never liked the way you looked more than i do now," he speaks without any hesitation.
"really?" you peer up at him through your lashes.
"oh yeah. i think this is the sexiest you've ever looked. you're carrying my baby, how can i not like the body that's helping it grow and keeping it safe? And you know i love how much more responsive and sensitive you've gotten."
"oh god, you've made me even hornier," you say, pulling him down to kiss him.
"and you're glowing and look so cute waddling around the house," he teases, breaking the kiss.
"i do not waddle!" yes. you, in fact, do.
-han is always asking for the baby to kick, those lazy morning spent in bed, he'll have a hand on your belly talking to the it.
"come on kid, kick for daddy"
"let them be, it's not your bladder they're kicking"
he softly apologizes, knowing that as the day gets nearer the more trips to the bathroom you make.
-han dotes on you every second of every day, he barely leaves your side. you need something to drink or eat? he'll get it. your feet hurt? hell massage them. get cravings? he'll make a trip to the convenience store.
-as a couple you decided to keep the gender of the baby a surprise. which just led to the two of you to place bets on what's it gonna be. han swears you're hanging low (whatever that means) so you'll be having a boy and because of your morning sickness you think it's a girl.
-realistically both you and han are fine with either one. which is why you'll be trying for another one when the time comes. if it turns out the same gender you'll try for a third, but that's all! if all three turn out the same, tough luck!
-you go into a small crisis thinking you'll never be able to wear your short dresses and skirts. you're going to be a mom surely you'll have to dress like one? han assures you you can wear whatever you want because he knows you'll be a good mom, which is all that matters. plus, he likes seeing you wear that type of clothes.
-han invests in another car. one he never though of having. a toyota sienna le. it's a minivan. always one for cars, han details it, adds leather seat covers, a few cool features and an overly complicated car seat.
-as your due date nears you spend more and more time in bed with han, having sex obviously. you had read somewhere it was good for contractions and when you go into labor. plus, you just had these boosts of energy and it was the only way to get you to sleep.
-han eventually stops working for takashi. more people are at risk now if he continues. takashi lets him go without much trouble. han did help him expand his business a lot quicker had he done it by himself.
-when the time comes to give birth, han races to the hospital in his new minivan. finds it stressful cause the thing can't go as fast as his precious mazda. but he makes it to the hospital in record time.
-your doctor is waiting for you, they have a room prepared for you. han stays by your side through it all even as you curse him out through your pain. your labor is long and painful being a first time mom and all.
-at some point you start crying that you can't do it and han is there to wipe your tears away and tell you you can. it's holding his hand that you push and push. he doesn't whine or complain once, ignoring the insults you throw at him and the pain in his hand.
-then it happens, a cry resonates through the room and your hand stops squeezing his. the nurse places your baby on your chest. it has a full head of dark hair already.
"it's a girl," the nurse coo's.
-han didn't think he'd be able to love someone as much as he loves you. he's proven wrong as he softly touches his baby girls head. she's slimey and a little ugly (being a newborn and all) but this emotion swells his chest and tears well up in his eyes.
-you softly call out his name and he looks at you and just says, 'i love you.’
-to make up for your pain han gets you a push gift. it's a pretty golden necklace. it has a thin chain and a pendant with a little gem, behind the pendant the initial of your baby girls name is engraved. it has enough space to add when your family expands eventually.
-fatherhood suits him. he's patient and soft spoken and baby girl adores him. han is a night owl so he has no problem getting up at night to feed his baby girl or change her diaper.
-it takes time to adapt and start feeling like yourself again but han makes it easy for you. he loves you no matter what and does everything possible to make the transition a smoother one. you gave him everything he wanted and more.
-you left the restaurant in good hands while you rode out the last month of your pregnancy and the first two postpartum. returning to work felt good. you love baby girl but getting out the house without puke on your shoulder was necessary.
-han stays with her during the morning embracing being a stay at home dad. granted he slips out now and then to the races or to hang out at the garage. in fact, when baby girl is older he sets up an area just for her.
-sean and twinkie make fun of him and his minivan. to which han threatens to kick them out the garage they don't even have to pay for.
-when your baby girl is almost 1 year old, he pops the question. it was date night, your parents were taking care of the baby. he picked you up in his orange mazda that just so happened matched your nails. you were back to wearing your usual dresses and sparkly heels. although you were rebuilding the confidence you had two years ago.
he took you to dinner and then dessert and then you walked through a park. it's cherry blossom season you had to make the most of it. that's when he does it. under the rain of sakura flowers he asked his question.
"will you marry me, baby?" han asks, down in one knee.
"i thought you would never ask," you cry out, extending your hand so he can slip the ring on your finger.
"that's not an answer," he teases, before he slides the ring on your finger.
"yes! it's a yes!"
finally he puts the ring on your finger and it's just like you'd imagine it to be.
-you have your ceremony not even a year after. the toretto crew comes back to japan. even hans family (that you've only met like twice in four years) attends. your family and friends are invited as well. mindy is your maid of honor and your baby girl the ring bearer.
-it's on your honeymoon, that is really more like a family vacation because baby girl is with you, that you tell han a little secret.
'We're having another baby!'
Tumblr media
a/n:
if you’d like to scream at me or cry with me about the headcanons feel free to send me a message through the asks! i didn't think before making this blog a sideblog so i can't answer comments from this account but from my main.
lol in case you didn't catch that i'd like to make a mini series of sorts of han with his baby girl. i've got ideas floating around so if it's something you'd be interested in let me know!
also been thinking of making a brian o'connor one shot or something cause those baby blues are irresistible.
bye!
445 notes · View notes
lightfeltmemories · 2 months
Text
dungeon meshi | delicious in dungeon; reactions to reader having a crush on them / having a crush on reader
dungeon meshi various x gender neutral reader
note: hey everyone, please be mindful that this is the very first time writing for these characters, i have watched every available episode but i am still reading the manga (though i do have a general idea about the setting and the characters backstories and personalities) so if any characters are ooc to you my apologies, don't be harsh im new here lol. sorry some of them are shorter than others i kind of ran out of ideas when it came to certain characters :p let me know in the comments or reblogs or more preferably in my ask box if you want me to do any other character.
characters: laois, falin, chilchuck, marcille, senshi, namari, shuro, izutsumi (i'm adding her here because feels weird leaving her out when i've added former members of the party, also this is purely sfw so nothing weird will be aimed towards her.)
trigger warnings: nothing out of the ordinary but just read the manga or watch the anime before reading this.
if you like this and my other fanfics, please be considerate to reblog my work, it not only helps reach a broader audience but it also motivates me to make more content like this!
Tumblr media
laois touden
reader's crush: when laois finds out that you have a crush on him, his reaction is.. well, how do we put it this way? is he flattered? yes and no, he doesn't see himself as ugly but also doesn't look at himself as the most handsome guy in the world, but someone straight up having a crush on him is kind of new, he doesn't really care much for relationships at the very moment but has thought about settling down with someone he likes, will it be you?
laois' crush: when it comes to having a crush, he tries to be his normal self around you, but sometimes can't help but be a little nervous especially when the two of you are alone, sooner or later he comes to the conclusion of realizing the he indeed, likes you, but confessing is the hard part, he's never thought much about rejection, it is a normal part of life after all, but when it comes to you? it's an entirely different ball game.
falin touden
reader's crush: falin already has someone chasing after her; shuro, theres a 50/50 chance of her reaction to reader's crush being the same as shuro's, but could there be a different reaction this time?
falin's reaction: surprisingly less shy than her brother, when she comes to this conclusion she'll build up the right time to actually confess, not wanting to rush things, just watch out for shuro i guess.
chilchuck tims
reader's crush: chilchuck learning about reader's crush is a bit sad, though he's no stranger to romance as he not only had a wife but also three whole kids, he's not really good with emotions so he's kind of scared you'll leave him just like his wife did, so, if reader confesses, there's gonna be a high chance that you'll be rejected, just give it some time.
chilchuck's crush: this weird feeling in his chest whenever he see's you will confuse him at first.. there's no way he has a crush on you?? after his wife leaving him he didn't really have any interest in romance, he might as well just focus on his work at the moment, one of these days he'll bring up the courage to confess, just not right now.
marcille donato
reader's crush: she can't really decide on whether she'll return the feelings or not, definitely flattered is what i'll say.
marcille's crush: she's similar to falin, she'll build up a better relationship with you for the right time to confess, she tries to make it seem as if she's not into you but it's quite obvious to the other party members.
senshi of izganda
reader's crush: out of everyone, he'll definitely be the most flattered, someone having a crush on him wasn't something he put much thought into, not to mention romance kind of isn't his thing, nor does he think he have the time for a significant other.
senshi's crush: i don't think this is the very first time he's ever had feelings for someone, but it's definitely a special feeling, he's not nervous of confessing his feelings at all actually, and he's not that sensitive to rejection.
namari
reader's crush: namari wouldn't really know how to react, honestly, she's never given the idea of someone having a crush on her much thought, she won't care much about rejecting the reader, at least she's honest.
namari's crush: her crush will be a bit hard to spot but when it comes to you, there will be a notable soft spot, she treats you like everyone else and isn't afraid to scold you if you do something wrong.
shuro | toshiro nakamoto
reader's crush: in an au where he still has feelings for falin, he immediately rejects you, telling you boldly that his heart is for falin and falin alone, but lets go to an au where he either loses interest in her or doesn't like her at all; definitely flattered, someone liking him (back) isn't unheard of but it is... nice?
shuro's crush: just look at what he does with falin, he will propose to you at some point, of course when time goes by and he starts to fall for you harder and harder, until he just can't contain it anymore.
izutsumi
reader's crush: very, very strange, someone having a crush on her is.. almost unheard of, or she doesn't pay much attention, anywho, she doesn't know... how to react? she knows what to do if she doesn't return the feelings but... someone liking her is just weird lmao.
izutsumi's crush: she won't make it obvious.... or try to at least, she accepts affection from you much more than she does from the others and sticks by your side more.
389 notes · View notes
fettuccin-e · 2 years
Text
This can be read as a part two to this blurb, but it can also just be a horny stand-alone lol
Warnings: daddy kink, size kink, fem!petnames, overstimulation, degradation, rough sex, unprotected piv
So we’ve established that Steve has like,, a GIGANTIC cock and knows how to use it right
So obviously, after seeing it, feeling it for the first time, you’re ruined for good. You can’t get enough of his cock inside of you, of his heavy balls smacking against your ass as he fucks you every night.
But every night just isn’t enough. You’re thinking about him all the time, zoning out when he crosses his legs, thinking about his thick cock trapped just behind the denim. You’re in public, trying to have fun with your friends, but all you can think about is how heavy his cock is on your tongue, how the tip lodges in the back of your throat whenever you try to take him all the way in your mouth. How he fucked you till you were sobbing just the night before, his hand wrapped around your throat while he bullied his fat cock all the way into your soaking cunt, whispering into your ear about how “you can take it sweetheart. I know you can, baby, you’re so good, taking me all the way inside so well. Begging for it, even. C’mon baby, you’re my good girl aren’t you? My perfect whore, just for me to use.”
And when Steve looks at you, his arm wrapped around your shoulder while you play cards with your friends, and sees how your eyes are glassed over, staring aimlessly ahead, he just knows. So before you know it, he’s gently guiding you to your feet, giving your friends some bullshit excuse about how you and he were up super early that morning (you weren’t) and how you both need to get home (you don’t).
But you don’t try to fight him on it, don’t want to. All you want to do is get home and let Steve do whatever he wants to you.
You can’t help it when you get into the car though. The thought of him, of his fat cock stretching you out till you’re gaping, of his sticky cum dripping out of your cunt as he takes you over and over and over, god, it already has you whining as you settle into the leather of the passenger seat. Steve is buckling you in, and you’re already gripping his jaw in your hands, dragging his lips to yours, whining into his mouth about how you “need daddy’s cock so bad, oh God, Steve. Please, please daddy, fuck me, ‘m so empty without your cock, can’t, can’t breathe without it daddy, need it so bad in me, I-” and he’s shushing you so gently, so comforting, before he’s yanking your head back hard with a harsh grip in your hair and muttering into your ear, “good girls are fucking patient, baby. Why aren’t you being good?” And you mutter, “I am good, I’m good, daddy, promise,” but your back is arching, hips jerking at the pain of his grip in your hair, and you know you aren’t being good, not at all. But Steve seems to take pity on you, and lets go, not saying a word.
And he doesn’t say a word the whole way back, but he’s got one hand on your thigh while he drives, and you can see the outline of his hard cock through his jeans.
And when you finally, finally get home? He’s wrenching you out of your car seat, lifting you into his arms while your legs wrap around his waist, not caring about any neighbors; you’re too busy trying to press your pussy onto his cock through your clothes, nuzzling your face into his neck while he carries you through the door to his house.
His parents aren’t home, they never are, so you don’t worry when he carries you to the couch in the living room, too desperate to go up the stairs.
What you aren’t expecting though, is him abandoning the couch altogether, laying you flat on the plush rug on the floor, ripping your shorts down your legs so fast you can feel the denim burn as it slides off your thighs. You can barely register the cool air on your hot pussy before he’s jamming two fingers into you, jackhammering them into you so hard your whole body shakes with the force of it, the slick squishing sounds of your pussy thundering in your ears. His fingers become three, then four, and just as you’re screaming, “Daddy, daddy, I can’t, it’s too much,” you can blearily see the muscles in his arm flexing as he drives his fingers into you, while his other hand drops to his jeans, unzipping them and shoving them down just enough to take his heavy cock out. “If my fingers are too much, I have no idea how you’re gonna take this cock, baby.” You can’t think, can’t even breathe as he presses the fat tip against your tiny hole, muttering about how “you always take me so well, baby. You can do it again, you have to. You begged for this, remember?” And you choke on a scream as slides his fat cock into you, not giving you a second to adjust. He’s ramming into your dripping pussy in seconds, his massive cock feeling like he’s rearranging your fucking guts while he’s wrenching your knees apart, spreading you wider, wider, just taking it as he buries himself inside over and over.
You’re pawing at his hairy chest for some kind of relief, little punched out uh, uh, uhs escaping your throat with every thrust, as if his cock is literally punching them out from your stomach. Steve is grunting with you, with the force of his thrusts, but he still manages to grunt out, “if you’re gonna act like a whore, princess, I’m going to fuck you like one.”
A keening whine escapes your throat as he grips your hips, hiking them into the air and onto his cock, impaling you over and over and over. “Is this what you wanted, slut? So fucking needy, thinking about me while we’re with our friends, drooling over my dick like you’re starving for it. Is this all you need, honey, to be fucked like a bitch?”
And you’re wheezing out a tiny “yes, yes daddy, yes,” without thinking about it, just wanting to please your daddy, please Steve. 
“But you’re my bitch, aren’t you angel? My little whore,” Steve can feel you tighten around his cock. “You wanna cum, baby?”
“Please, please daddy, I need to cum, please let me cum.” 
“Go ahead then, slut. Gush on your daddy’s big cock.”
But you can barely hear him give you permission, it’s too good, the pleasure-pain of his cock filling you up so deep, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, slick sounds of your squishing cunt colliding with his sticky, hairy thighs. And suddenly, you’re cumming, and it feels like heaven and hell mixed into one, overwhelming, too tight and too much and so, so fucking good. 
Your head is thrashing against the rug as cry out delirious praises of “daddy, daddy, you’re so good, so big, your cock is s’good.”
Steve can barely look away from your convulsing form as you squirt all over his cock, soaking his balls and his thighs and the rug, and he can’t help but lean forward and cup a hand behind your head and bring your lips together, muttering about how “you’re so gorgeous, so sexy baby, didn’t know you could do that.” You can’t even kiss him back, too far gone, to drunk on his cock to do anything but let your mouth gape open as your daddy licks into it. 
Steve is whispering praises into your ear, sweet nothings about how good, how beautiful, how perfect you are, as his hips stutter and his thick cum floods your pussy, adding to the mess between your bodies and on the plush rug below. 
You feel bleary, ripped apart but also like the most perfect thing in the world. Steve is still inside you as he lifts you up, knowing that you want to keep him there as long as possible, and takes you upstairs to his room. 
You trust him to take care of you as he lays you gently onto his bed, kissing you softly on the forehead, while you whisper a soft “thank you, daddy, love you so much.”
You can feel Steve smile into your hair as he murmurs back, “love you too baby, more than you’ll ever know. My perfect baby girl.” 
And you fall asleep, feeling warm and precious and Steve’s. 
3K notes · View notes
fiendishfables · 2 months
Note
hello!! i saw ur blog and i was super excited to see another aroaceee is it alright if you do platonic adam x reader headcanons? he can be reader's friend, sibling, or preferably reader's father figure as long as its platonic, anything u'd like is fine! sorry if my request is kinda weird lol, i just haven't seen a lot of platonic hazbin hotel stuff (especially stuff with adam in it)
a/n: Always good to meet other aroace individuals, indeed. I personally love Adam, he is absolutely my favorite character. I’ve been dying to write for him more and thinking of him as a dad is just my favorite scenario-
warnings: cursing, Adam being Adam, brief mentions of sex, subtle hints at Lute x Adam (if you squint)
words: 944
additional notes: this was one of my first asks I ever got; I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT. Enjoy~!
Tumblr media
Adam as a Father Figure
Headcanons
Tumblr media
First of all, he never expected to actually have a kid of his own, but now here he was
By the time you turned 6, you knew about every single curse word in existence, along with a (disturbingly) decent amount of female anatomy
Lute gets promoted to babysitter
When Adam is off performing with his band or needed in the council/other Heavenly resides, Lute is responsible for keeping track of his child
Even if she lost you (which she has, multiple times) he won't be that worried
You were a kid and as far as Adam knew, kids needed food
Hence how he knew you would find your way back to him eventually
Okay scratch that, maybe he does get a little worried...a lot
Starts to doubt his ability as a parent
Once he even got Sera to send out a search party for you because you had been gone longer than usual
It worried him sick whenever you went exploring, but he was almost a bit prideful that his offspring had managed to inherit his sneaking around capabilities already at such a young age
Lute has had to console her boss many times in response to your random disappearances under her watchfulness
He has legit been facedown on the couch with his head in her lap whilst he bawls his eyes out, blabbering to her about his worries pertaining to you, and then somehow that stems to his hopes and dreams in life (he doesn't wanna talk about it)
Only for you to walk in with food from some random location about 10 minutes later
You'd be on the floor as soon as you enter the domicile because Adam would have jumped on you and then proceeded to hug the very life out of you (all while stealing your bag of food in the process and running off with it)
Calls you a bitch, dumbass, and 'a little shit' for worrying him
Though he would never openly admit he had been worried
He doesn't care if you have a social life, he wants you home safe before 9pm, sharp
── ・ 。☆*☽*☆゚.──
Teaches you how to play guitar
He claims its because he wants to pass on one of his awesome talents to his only child, but he also really wants you to join him and his band on stage one day or another
You are in the starter stages of learning and are able to accurately get chords down and learn to read sheet music
A tear just may have come to his eye
The first song you two ever perform together is "Hell is Forever"
He did see someone try to give you a rose after your performance and nearly knocked them out
Trust him, he's a sex and relationship positive guy (for the most part) but he also can't help but feel like he wants to protect you at all costs
If you dare to call him over-protective, he will very gladly give you the silent treatment for a good 5 minutes
After that time mark, he will be groveling at your feet and whining about how sorry he is (rare that he actually says 'sorry')
His biggest fear is his own child having it out for him and not wanting anything to do with him
A clingy parent, no doubt
Wants to train you in the ways of becoming an Exorcist Angel
Poor guy is a bit insecure about everything and needs extra reassurance, though he would never ever outwardly ask for it
That's a sign of weakness in his eyes
Not for his child though
You come to him with even the smallest hint of watery eyes and he is already going full dad-mode
Determined to find the fucker who made you upset
Promises to give em' a good ol' kick in the balls (or vag)
Adam won't discriminate, he's just there to beat the ass of whoever hurt his precious baby
He will get in a fist fight with Sera in order to make you happy
Just expect to be the one he then blames when he gets demoted
── ・ 。☆*☽*☆゚.──
Adam totally took lots of naps before he had a child, so this just makes for the two of you ending up crashing on the couch together and creating a melodic tune out of your in-sync snoring patterns
Anything the two of you can do together without constantly arguing is a miracle, so this is to be cherished
He has definitely given you some very creative nicknames (as he calls himself 'Dickmaster')
Lute has taken many pictures
She wants to make a photo album and give it to Adam one day just to piss him off
But as she knows how much he really cares for you, she does not want to risk him growing apart from you due to something stupid she did for a few momentary laughs
Let's you two have your moments without interrupting
The two of you always fight over food and who gets to pick where you go for the evening, if going anywhere at all
Lute claims that you are making Adam all the more emotional, but no one seems to be complaining
Especially not the High Council
Its nice to have him shut his mouth for once and remotely think about his actions and who they could potentially effect
Adam has something to lose now, and everyone in both Heaven and Hell alike knew it
No demon spawn would ever get to set even a foot near you
You were the first life he felt truly responsible for
He refuses to fuck it up and lose someone else he cares about
He would protect you until the ends of time, whether you liked it or not
Tumblr media
165 notes · View notes
misc-obeyme · 3 months
Note
Hello you're such a good freaking writer! Blankets for Mammon for the cozy comforts event?
Hi there, anon! Thank you, I'm so glad you enjoy my writing!
Okay, well, this is the cozy comforts event because I am cozy and comfortable when I'm writing all the cheesy fluff. And that's all I gotta say about this one lol.
Thank you for participating!
COZY COMFORTS EVENT
Tumblr media
GN!MC x Mammon with prompt blanket
Warnings: none
Tumblr media
Whenever you feel a little sad, you find yourself wandering to Mammon's room. The way he grins the minute he sees you never fails to cheer you up. But even if he isn't there, it's his space and it feels like him. He's come back to find you, sprawled on his couch or curled up on his bed. It's like you're only waiting for him to walk in so you can start feeling happy again.
When he's not around, you seem to always be drawn to one blanket in particular. It's a nice one - black and gold, by some expensive Devildom brand name you're not familiar with. He told you once that he worked hard to buy it for himself. You love the way it smells like his Devilish No 5 when you wrap it around your shoulders. It's like he's right there, hugging you close.
The first time you have to return to the human world, he blushes and stutters when he gives it to you. You blink in surprise at him as he holds it out to you.
"Did ya think I didn't notice, human?" he says.
Having that blanket with you makes you feel less lonely as you spend time away from the Devildom. When you come back, you can't bear to be parted with it, so you keep it. Everyone sees what it means to you, how you tend to keep it around your shoulders when you're in a bad mood or just need a bit of comfort.
Until one day you notice that the blanket doesn't smell like Mammon anymore. It doesn't quite feel like him the way it used to. You use it less and less, seeking out the actual demon whenever you can instead.
Mammon notices that you've been keeping the blanket folded neatly on your bed, but he doesn't say anything.
One day you come back to the House of Lamentation and realize that you haven't seen Mammon all day. You go looking for him and find him in your own room. He's sitting on your bed, wrapped in the black and gold blanket. He looks pitiful, like he's just had the worst day of his life.
You come over to sit down beside him. He's despondent as he tells you about losing bets and failed schemes.
You tug on the edge of the blanket. "This always makes me feel better. Is it helping you?"
The blush that cover's Mammon's face is instant and deep. He hides it halfway behind the blanket. "Smells like ya."
You consider this statement and realize it must be true. The blanket lost the smell of Mammon's cologne long ago, but you never smelled anything different on it. Because now the blanket smelled like you.
"Ya kinda stopped usin' it, though, huh," Mammon says and you can't help hearing the note of sadness in his tone.
You nudge him a little, to make him lift his arm. You duck under it so you're both under the blanket, Mammon's arm wrapped snugly around you. You lean your head on his shoulder. "I liked it because it smelled like you. It felt like you. It was like I had you hugging me even when you weren't there. But now it smells like me? I hadn't noticed."
Mammon puffs out his chest a bit. "Miss the Great Mammon when he ain't around, do ya?"
"Yeah," you say easily, making him squirm a little.
After that, the two of you trade off who has the blanket. Whenever you need him and he's not there, you find the blanket. Whenever he needs you, he takes it back. And although no object could replace the real thing, it acts as a temporary comfort, warming you with its memories until you can find yourselves back in each other's arms.
Tumblr media
cozy comforts | masterlist | Thank you for reading!
321 notes · View notes
sunnys-out · 7 months
Text
I've loved you for so long (1) | Lucy Bronze
Tumblr media
A/N: Hello! I haven't written in so long but here is something that I have been working on since the WC (she's a short one I know). I didn't post it earlier because I was moving and starting a new job but everything has calmed down and I had time to edit it. Please let me know what y'all think and hopefully, I can post the 2nd part soon! If you like my writing maybe through in a suggestion and I'll try my best! :D
Content: Angst, Fluff if you squint
{Word Count: 2004}
______________________________________________________________
I've loved you for so long
Oh, I'd forgotten how it feels
Feelings come back strong
'I've Loved You For So Long - The Aces'
Lucy and I had met, informally, in 2015 in Canada, we never played against each other in that World Cup but that didn’t stop us from bumping into each other at Tim Hortons. The couple of times that we ran into each other at the World Cup caused small conversations and laughs that left me wanting more. God, even just her smile left me wanting. 
I didn’t message her throughout our respective seasons right after the World Cup but sometimes I’d click on her Instagram profile and just scroll and see her thrive in Manchester City. Well I did drum up the courage to message once.
‘It’d probably be weird if I messaged her out of the blue right?... I mean it has been weeks  since Canada?’ I told myself as I lay on my small apartment couch in Portland.  
My thumb hovered over the send button with a slight tremble.
“Fuck it” My thumb harshly hit the screen and the quick ‘Wanted to say that you had an amazing tournament. Shame we never played against each other ♥️That goal against Canada was a banger meant to send that in Canada lol!”  message was delivered.
 I swear I threw my phone onto the other side of my couch and took a shower not expecting to see two notifications sent five minutes after me.
‘Lucy Bronze liked your message’
‘Lucy Bronze: ‘means a lot. Hope to see you again soon, miss world champion ⭐️⭐️⭐️’
I didn’t notice the smile growing as I looked at the notifications on the screen. I probably read it 20 times, setting the phone down on my coffee table and pacing the room debating whether I should respond or what I even should respond with. 
“Lucy is funny, maybe I can joke about how it’s been long or maybe just a ‘feeling is mutual’” I said aloud to myself.
‘Why am I getting worked up about this?” My hair is now messy by how many times I redid my ponytail pacing the room for 13 minutes. I kept procrastinating and just settled with getting ready for bed.
‘I’ll just respond tomorrow,’ I said, confidently,  plugging in my phone and placing it on my nightstand. That sentiment lasted about 2 minutes before I walked quickly back into my room picking up my phone, opening the message, and liking Lucy’s before responding. 
Y/N: I would love to see you again! I hope it's somewhere other than Tim Hortons even though I loved that place lol 🙂
My phone immediately locked as I got into bed and turned away from my phone. I closed my eyes tightly trying to go to sleep quickly so that in the rare probability that Lucy would continue the conversation, I could deal with it tomorrow morning, maybe ask Klingenburg for advice. Though she might scold me for fraternizing with the enemy, jokingly of course. Defenders knew other defenders right? Kling would find it funny that a right winger is flirting with a right back.
My thoughts were interrupted by one vibration and then two more in succession. My body slowly turned over to see my phone lit up still and then slowly dimming. My hand, subconsciously, went over, picked up my phone, and opened the messages seeing Lucy liking my message.
Lucy: Let me buy you a cup whenever you’re in Manchester; there are some cafes you’d like here.
Lucy: I would love to show you around 🙂 
I smiled at the messages and immediately replied without a second thought
Y/N: I will let you know because I do need a vacation 🥲
Y/N: And I would love to give you a tour of Portland, the coffee capital of the world. Worth it.
I stared at the messages until I saw a little heart appear on my last message. The little dots of a message incoming made me nervously tap the side of my phone. 
Lucy Bronze: I’ll take that as a promise 😉
Y/N: And I expect that cup of coffee in Manchester is a promise too ☺️
Lucy would only like the message and I would promptly go to sleep after waiting 15 minutes for a message that never came. I tried my best to not think about it but the feeling that came from reading her messages and the smile that would creep onto my face…I wouldn’t forget. 
Hayley Raso came into my life slowly after that. Glances turned to long stares. The lingering touches throughout practice became more than a pat on the back for a job well done. The smiles and laughs echoed off the walls of Providence Park as we walked to our cars until it was just to my car.
The weekly movie nights at my place turned into watching a show and cuddling together after practice for days on end. Another toothbrush appeared in the bathroom and suddenly my queen-sized bed wasn’t as empty. 
Mornings were met with a quick kiss, a hug from behind, and sweet nothings whispered in each other's ear.
Going to practice wasn’t done alone anymore and it was nice to have someone waiting on you if you had to stay behind to see the physio.
It was easy since we were both playing for Portland at the time and the team weren’t surprised when we told them.
 Little by little the Australian would appear in my Instagram photos and I in hers. 
The one that “broke the internet” was Hayley’s post of her kissing me on the cheek at the end of a game when the USWNT and Australia had a friendly. The one that sealed the deal for everyone was my Christmas post of photos of the party I had at my apartment. One, a particular one at the end, Hayley was in my lap while I kissed her. 
Something, however, nagged at me every time I saw a certain person's name pop up “Lucy Bronze liked your post” but I ignored it. I now know it was the feeling of the “what if” and “what could have been”. 
‘Did Lucy not want this with me? Maybe that’s why she never followed up. I probably said something to scare her away. Hayley didn’t run away’ I remember thinking to myself and as if on cue two arms snake their way around my waist. 
“Everything alright babe?” Hayley said into my back, I, immediately, felt my shoulders relax at the sound of Hayley’s voice.
I whispered, “I'm alright, just read some rude comments. You know how some people get”. I lied to Hayley; I was happy in our relationship and shouldn’t be wondering about the “what could have been” with someone that wasn’t her.  
Hayley would then go on to say that she’s told me to never look at the comments because when have the mean ones ever done something for us? She’d led me back to the bedroom to get ready for bed as we had an early practice but not after she promised to take my mind off the “negative comments”...it worked. 
______________________________________________________________
She Believes Cup March 6th, 2016, 
Lucy Bronze’s POV
We hadn’t played the United States in Canada which is a shame to not be able to play the future World Champions. Once, we had heard that we would be playing them in the She Believes Cup. I was excited for multiple reasons.
The US call up was released and I would be playing against (y/n). Since the World Cup, (Y/N) was making a name for herself as a strong right winger and playmaker for Portland and the National team.
On the pitch, she seemed cold and intimidating, but I met her as the complete opposite. 
I was able to just watch her tap her lip with her finger with her US cap on backward as she decided which pastry she wanted with her coffee at that Tim Hortons. She whistled quietly as she waited her turn and then adorably, fumbled through her order. Then humming to herself happily as she waited on the side with her warm croissant covered by a napkin.  
I was in awe of her. I had seen her play before and was always impressed by what I’d seen but never played against her. 
As I went up to order my own coffee and pastry I noticed her scrolling through her phone, laughing to herself. (y/n’s) eyes crinkle when she laughs or smiles really big. She hadn’t noticed me when I stood next to her, also waiting for my drink, there I took notice that she was at least three inches above me and that she sticks out her tongue when she is reading something. 
I breathed in and said loud enough for her to hear as she read, “I won’t tell your trainer if you don’t tell mine” I shook my little bag containing the coffee cake I had just ordered. I chuckled at the little jump she gave when she noticed me.
“Shit, sorry you scared me” a nervous laugh leaving her mouth
I extended my hand, “Sorry bout that. I’m Lucy, Lucy Bronze with England”  
She completed the handshake, “(y/n) (l/n) with the US…obviously” She pointed to her hat that had USA stitched on the back.
The conversation had good enough banter that we both remained at a table for about 2 hours talking about life and football. I could tell you that I fell for the way she looked at me with her gentle (y/e/c) eyes as she described the antics of her new golden retriever puppy named Chili she had adopted when she went to Portland.
I never really was intimidated or made nervous by any American player, especially on the pitch but watching her warm up with an icy cold expression during the She Believes Cup match made me question if the person I met at Tim Horton’s was the same person. 
I don’t think I was nervous but I lost count of how many times I would try to get a glimpse of her as she warmed up. Every time I did I’d feel the blush on my cheeks as I remembered the short text conversation that we had shortly after the World Cup. 
I regretted so much for not following up immediately; I got scared. If (y/n) asked me today why I didn’t respond, I wouldn’t have known what to say to be honest. Lack of courage was what Jill had told me as Jordan patted my back while reading the messages.  
The moment that I finally gained the courage to message (y/n) on Instagram to invite her to Manchester for a visit, was the day when I saw the picture of Hayley Raso kissing her cheek at a friendly. It was the first thing I saw when I opened the app to message her.
I remember my stomach dropping like the feeling when you don’t feel the bottom of a pool. 
I had it all planned in my head that she’d accept and I had a mini itinerary in my head of things she would’ve enjoyed and sightseeing spots. But the photo of her with her face buried in Hayley’s neck as she hugged her made the feeling worse.
Raso had beat me to (y/n) and she didn’t even know it. I kicked myself for not being brave. I would’ve had her in my arms sooner. I tell her all the time that I fell for her immediately and from meeting her I wanted more of her every passing day. 
Just seeing her across the field filled me with the tucked away feelings I had for her. I remember thinking…What I would have given to be there again talking about the most mundane things over coffee. Hearing her try her hardest to tell a joke but failing as she laughs remembering the punch line or even unconsciously speaking with an English accent when we spoke… God, I really loved her for so long.
372 notes · View notes
lazycats-stuff · 10 months
Note
Hi! Sorry I don’t know if you’re still taking requests but if you are, can I request a male!vigilante!Y/N. he’s likes 13-15 (younger than Tim but a older than Damian). He’s a orphan and been the infamous vigilante who goes by Jinx. He’s like super duper smart and knows martial arts and overall a total badass. The bat family has been trying to catch him for a couple of months now since he’s been like stealing their missions. Y/N just finished stopping a drug dealing near the docks. He’s about to leave when night wing and Robin (Damian) jump in front of him. They fight and robin kicks him in the ocean, knocking him out. When nightwing sees he’s not coming back, he goes and rescues him. So like they take him back to the bat cave and they put him in a cell and interrogate him, they find out he’s just a kid, a orphan and knows their secret identities (cause like I said, he’s super smart) Bruce decides to adopt the kid saying something like that it’s ether being adopted or going to jail. And Y/N and Damian aren’t happy about but have no choice and yeah that’s it. Sorry if it’s complicated or long
I am taking requests and it's not complicated, don't worry. It's a fun idea too. Another Tim lol. Damian really won't be happy. Also I wrote this in a day, a new record for me.
Summary: (Y/N), aka, Jinx is a vigilante that gets in Batman's way. Batman wants to get him.
Warnings: mentions of violence, forced adoption, smart (Y/N)
I couldn't find a better gif, sorry.
Tumblr media
(Y/N) sneaked out of the building. He put on his mask and went to work. Today on the list was Black Mask and the Penguin. Black Mask had a drug deal and the Penguin had his weapons. It took a few days to track down those weapons.
Drugs were very easy to track. It's not difficult when you know all of Black Mask's hideouts and locations. The best part about Black Mask is that all of the hideouts are owned by the same alias that never changes.
He jumped from the ledge, landing on a random balcony. He moved yet again. He didn't have much time on his hands today too. If he wanted to intercept the guns, he would need to hurry.
He thought about Batman and the sidekicks. Will they show up today too? Maybe they will, so screw that, they will show up. It's Batman, that man knows everything that happens in this city. And it would be very fun to see their faces get annoyed.
It was always of fun to see their faces turn from stoic into annoyance. And they always tried to catch him, but they couldn't. It always made him laugh whenever they tried to do that.
They never could.
(Y/N) jumped down from the roof, using a rope to get down into the building. Black Mask was in the front, talking to a nobody drug leader about his drugs. He already called the GCPD, anonymously of course.
He got behind a crate and knocked out a bodyguard. Nobody heard him and he moved behind a crate, where he could clearly see Black Mask and the drug dealer.
He read Black Widow from a comic and he was inspired by her Widow's bites so he made that on his own suit. He made bracelets that held those bites, but he would have to rename them.
He put his arms up and he aimed the two men. He fired and the two feel down, cramping from the electricity. (Y/N) smiled at that, moving from his hiding spot. He restrained the two and started climbing up to get out.
He doesn't need to talk to the police. He nearly fell back down however, because Batman and his sidekicks were here.
Well, this is awkward.
" Evening guys. " (Y/N) said, waving awkwardly then them.
" Jinx. " Batman said and Red Hood moved closer to look through the glass window.
" Is that Black Mask? " Hood asked, pointing at the window.
" Could be. " Jinx said.
" You need to stop taking our missions. " Batman said, making (Y/N) smirk.
" Mhmm, I don't think I will stop. " Jinx said, raising his hands up.
" You can't act on your own. " Batman said.
" That's rather hypocritical of you, considering that that's how you started. "
He could see a clenched jaw from Batman. Bingo.
" Okay, well, this was a nice chat, but I have more stuff to do. See you later. " He said, running, seeing that Robin was ready to get him. Once again he used his bites. He even managed to get Batman.
He can die happily now, knowing he took Batman down, even for a moment.
He didn't stop running for a long while. He took a break for a few moments, before he remembered the guns deal that the Penguin had. Why tonight?
" Bruce, I swear to God, if I find Jinx, I will kill him. " Jason said, taking his helmet off.
Damian agreed from the sidelines. He was going to kill him in the worst ways possible.
" Guys, we are not going to kill him. " Bruce said, taking his cowl off.
" No, you will not adopt him! " Jason yelled out. That adoption won't happen.
" Father, if you adopt him, I will lose my mind. " Damian said.
Tim didn't know what to think about Jinx. It looked like he was smart and seemed to know enough martial arts to go by in Gotham.
They could use him on the team. But if he was anything like Damian, he was going to lose it.
" I don't have anything against the adoption, but if he is anything like Damian, say goodbye to my sanity. " Tim said, going upstairs, not wanting to listen anymore.
The others left too, not wanting to continue this painful conversation.
Bruce stayed, pulling up Jinx's profile. How can they catch him? He sighed, closing his eyes. It wasn't going to be easy. He was smart and it was going to be a pain in the ass to catch him.
Jinx stood in the warehouse, thankful for the fact that the Bats and the others weren't here. Just like with the Black Mask, he restrained the guys and he was about to walk out and call the police, but just as he stepped out, Robin and Nightwing jumped in front of him.
" Hey guys, I just finished this drug deal and I would like to go, so... " Jinx said, fixing his bracelets.
" I'm afraid not. Batman wants to talk to you. " Nightwing said, taking his batons.
" Well, I can't really say that I want to talk to him. He looks scary. " Jinx said, eyeing Robin. And it was good thing he did eye Robin. Robin jumped at him, making (Y/N) sidestep. Robin regained his balance and went right back at attacking him.
Robin was quick, going for the weak spots that the human body had. (Y/N) was forced to defend rather then attack. Nightwing watched from the side, clearly impressed with the fact that Jinx could stand with Damian.
There is definitely more than meets in the eye when it domes to Jinx.
Damian saw an opening and kicked Jinx in the stomach, making him fall into the ocean. Nightwing stood by, ready to get him, but when Jinx just floated up, clearly knocked out.
Nightwing jumped in, telling Damian to pull him up. Damian did so, letting Jinx lay down on the cold pavement. Dick got out of the cold water, shivering slightly.
" Come on, lets get him to the cave. " Nightwing said, picking the teen up. Damian called the Batmobile up. It was going to be an interesting talk.
(Y/N) opened his eyes, not expecting to find himself in a cave. And he never saw such a big computer. He wished he had that one. He sat up, noticing the lack of his suit and he reached up to find his mask. There wasn't anything.
He sighed, his face finally revealed. He stood up, walking up to the glass doors. Well, it wasn't really glass, more so a mix of plastic and glass.
No way out of here.
" Good to see you up Jinx. Or do you prefer (Y/N)? " Batman said, in a full suit. That made (Y/N) chuckle.
" Do you prefer Bruce or Batman? Also, your suit is nice from up close like this. " (Y/N) said, smirking at the shock that went through Bruce.
" How do you know? " Bruce said, taking his cowl off. There was no point in keeping the cowl on if he knows.
" That's for myself and my brain to know. " (Y/N) said, crossing his arms.
" I take great precautions to not let people know. " Bruce said, face now passive and neutral.
" Do you really want to know? " (Y/N) asked, happy to have some sort of leverage over the almighty Batman.
" Yes. "
" It has to do with your kids. Anytime you adopt somebody, there is a new vigilante. " (Y/N) explained, acting as if it was simple deduction.
Bruce's face still looked neutral, but inside he was both impressed and scared for his identity. There was a handful of people who knew his identity and those people would never tell.
" So, can I go? I have to go investigate the Penguin. " (Y/N) asked, pointing at the door.
" I'm afraid you can't go. I have more questions for you. "
(Y/N) sighed, " Fire away. "
" How long have you been acting like Jinx? "
" It's going to be 5 years next month. "
" How come I didn't notice that you were a teen? And where are you parents? "
" I made sure that my suit made me look like an adult and my parents are dead. " (Y/N) said dryly. " Is that all? Can I go? "
" Well, you have two options. First one is adoption where you stay with me. You have a roof under your head and a place to improve your suit. I like the bracelets. "
(Y/N) frowned, not liking the first option.
" I assume, I'm not going to like the second option either. "
" Second one is jail. "
And there it was. He saw the other birds, clearly not happy that (Y/N) was going to get adopted.
" I don't think that your birds want me here. " (Y/N) noted.
" Three of them don't live here. Only Robin lives here. And they got over it, so one day you two will tolerate one another. "
(Y/N) gave Damian a single look, laughing slightly.
" Trust me, Damian and I will never tolerate each other. " (Y/N) said, sitting back down in the cell.
" Based on my experience, you will. Give it time. "
(Y/N) shook his head. No matter how much time has passed, they won't get along. Why was his life like this?
431 notes · View notes
featherandferns · 1 month
Note
am i allowed to put two prompts in one? If so then i’d absolutely LOVE a grumpy!reader x sunshine!jj for 11 and 18 (or you can choose just one), they’re not really together yet, but they know they like each other and have been getting there, and he’s the only person allowed to touch her or be affectionate with her because she’s let him in and trusts him. I was thinking maybe something at a kegger, cz then 18 could probably fit in there nicely, like she’s asking for a beer or something, I dont have a whole concept sorry 😭😭
11. Sorry, pumpkin. // Don't call me that.
18. Ask nicely. // No, thank you. // I tried.
idk who's POV this is from lol but I like it so screw it. I think I want to write more grumpy!reader...
Pumpkin - prompts 11 and 18.
When you first joined the Pogues, nobody really knew how to take you. Kiara had invited you along one day. You were new to the town, having moved during the summer, and she’d mostly seen you either lounging in your front yard or watching the world pass by out the window. You’d seen her sneak out with her friends more than enough times for her to know that you weren’t going to rat her out any time soon. So, when Kie extended an invite for you to come along to drink and surf at the break, you seemed…impartial. She assumed you wanted to, considering you came along, but you didn’t much smile. You didn’t much talk either. But you got involved: had a few drinks and surfed with the rest of them. Before parting ways, you got her number and a few days later, you texted her, asking when the next hangout was.
One person who seemed to click strangely well with you was JJ. JJ was guarded in his own unique way, but it didn’t make him particularly unapproachable. He’d be up for a laugh or a joke and approaching people didn’t faze him in the slightest You however were sealed watertight. Not even a crowbar could break through your tough exterior. You didn’t talk to people and from the mardy look practically solidified on your face, you didn’t want them to talk to you either.
JJ could make you smile though. You’d almost try to hide it, but he’d see it crack through. The smallest twinge of your lips upturning before you’d glance away. The lift of your cheeks and the loosening of your jaw. When it wasn’t shown on your lips, JJ knew you were smiling through your eyes.
Sarah found it impossible to talk to you. You’d be so disinterested in what she had to say. Or at least, that’s how it seemed.
“She’s like a closed book,” she’d sigh.
“Nah,” JJ shrugged. “You just gotta know how to read her.”
Everybody has their own way of showing affection. You liked the Pogues. Overtime, they understood this. It helped when they realised your acts of service was the way that you showed your love and gratitude. Bringing Sarah her favourite seltzers to the chateau after seeing in the group chat she’d had a bad day. Casually dropping a cool turtle hatching site to Kie in conversation so she could venture out herself and take a look. Bringing Pope the homework whenever he’d miss class and wordless slipping a copy of your notes inside. Tidying up the chateau for John B after everyone had fallen asleep. All this to say, you and JJ were the closet. He reciprocated your acts with his own, and in turn you’d open up, bit by bit.
“This keggar sucks ass,” you mutter. Your arms are crossed over your chest, overtly unapproachable to anybody who didn’t know you.
JJ is stood by your side. He shrugs and takes a swig from his can. “I’ve been to worse.”
“Really? I think I’ve been to funerals more lively than this,” you say.
JJ rolls his eyes mirthfully, smiling.
“Maybe you need to loosen up? Have a dance, huh?”
With that, JJ grabbed one of your hands and makes a move like he’s getting you to salsa with him. You don’t move, don’t even sway. But you don’t pull your hand free: let him waggle your arm around like a lump of rubber, boneless.
“Damn girl, I love your moves,” he whistles.
“Screw off, Maybank,” you grumble. But he sees the twinkle in your eyes: your smile.
Nevertheless, JJ doesn’t push his luck. He lets go of your hand and you instantly miss the warmth of his palm pressed against yours.
“Sorry, pumpkin.”
“Don’t call me that,” you immediately bite. Then, you take his can and have a swig.
“You wanna leave?”
You swallow another mouthful and meet his gaze. “Do you?”
“I don’t mind.”
But you know he does. Can see the itch under his skin to join in with his friends. To have a shot at beer pong and shot gun a beer with John B. You shake your head and pass the can back to him.
“We’ll stay. Maybe I do need to lighten up.”
“Ah! I knew it, I knew it,” JJ chants.
“I said maybe,” you quickly remind. But he’s already grabbing at your hand and pulling you towards the ridiculous stack of coolers.
“You just need some booze to get ya loose,” JJ says.
He ducks into a squat and rummages through. You scan the crowd and see nothing but reckless youth. How do people do it? Become so carefree? They can’t be having as much fun as they look as though they are, surely.
“Whatcha after?” JJ asks with a groan, looking up at you.
“Get me a beer.”
“Ask nicely.”
“No,” you shortly reply. Clearing your throat, you meekly add, “thank you.”
“Well, I tried,” JJ sighs. You’re worried you might have offended him for a moment, but then he’s done riffling through and is pulling out a can of beer, holding it up to you. The condensation drips down the cylinder, over his fingers, bruised and cracked at the knuckles, pink from the cold. You take it before you cans tare at his hands much longer, like some pining creep.
“Thanks,” you quietly say, cracking it open.
JJ makes a point to move in ridiculously close to your mouth with his ear.
“What was that, pumpkin? Didn’t quite catch it?”
“I said thank you,” you gruffly repeat, and then you shove him away by the shoulder and have a drink.
One drink turns to two, three, four…Eight. As the night thrives on and the sky turns darker and darker, people come and go from the keggar: alone, in groups, in pairs. You mostly watch, happy to skulk in the background, but you don’t keep JJ from having a good time. Watching him happy, bouncy, at ease – it brings you happiness. In fact, it turns your night around.
Somewhere near three in the morning, JJ spots you sat on some driftwood. You’re crinkling the can in your hands, seeing how many dents you can make with the pressure of one finger. Someone who didn’t know you might think you’re sulking, but JJ knows that isn’t true. He bounds over, squiffy.
“Lost ya earlier.”
“Didn’t know you were looking for me,” you reply, looking up.
“You wanna leave?”
“Do you?”
The déjà vu from earlier passes over you like the summer breeze brushing against your legs. JJ shrugs.
“I will after a dance.”
“Nope.”
“Yep.”
“JJ, I can’t—”
“—Who cares? Neither can I,” he interrupts. He grabs your hands, unbothered as the empty can you were holding lands with a thud in the sand, and tugs you to your feet. “Come on, there’s hardly anyone here now.”
You sigh and glance around. And it’s true: everyone has either left or are too busy sucking the other’s face off to realise the world around them. With another sigh, you relent. You let JJ tug your hands up and onto one of each of his shoulders, and his find their place around your waist. Then the two of you sway like you’re at an elementary school dance. You rest your head on his chest, tired and relaxed.
“I’m sorry if I was a grump tonight,” you quietly say.
“You’re a grump every night.”
“Not funny,” you whisper.
“Wasn’t meant to be,” JJ returns. You feel his breath on your forehead and you know he’s closer to you than he was before. “You know you don’t have to worry about that kind of thing with me. I like you how you are.”
“Moody and bitchy and tempestuous?”
“I don’t know what the last word means but no, probably. Not moody or bitchy. Just…you.”
You look up at him with that. For some reason, there’s water in your lash line. You blame it on the late hour of the night (or morning, you suppose) and the bite of salt in the air from the sea. He holds your gaze, steady and honest.
“Just me?”
“Mhm,” JJ assures. The dip of his head is quick, as is the fleeting kiss pressed to your lips, but it wasn’t so fast that you can’t be sure that it didn’t happen. Because it did. “Just you, pumpkin.”
“Don’t ruin it, Maybank.”
“You love it really,” he says, flashing you a grin.
You bite back your smile but you know he can see it; it makes his cheeky grin only grow. With that, you hide your face on his warm chest, and with your nose nestled against the soft cotton of his t-shirt, saturated in his cologne, you let yourself smile.
95 notes · View notes
shelbyssins · 1 year
Note
HI 💕 I loved Home so much and I was wondering if I could request something?? I had this idea of Tommy x Reader where reader was like a one that got away situation with pre-war Tommy and she married someone else but her husband dies during the war but Tommy didn’t ever know that he just thought she was married.. so time passes and they meet again then you can choose the ending!! Happy or sad you can choose, I hope this makes sense English is not my first language lol!! And if this doesn’t inspire you that’s okay too but know I love your work and am excited to see what you write next!!!💕😇😇
Tumblr media
Seasons Change, People Don't ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader
Warnings: Language, a sprinkling of angst
Word Count: 6,880
A/N: So this past week or so has just been insanely busy for me and I was struggling to find time to finish this request but here it finally is! I wanted to make this a little more light hearted than my previous request and the idea of Tommy and reader's relationship changing through the seasons really stuck with me so I hope you enjoy! I will be posting some shorter form one shots this week with some different characters so watch out for those! As always, if you read this, let me know what you think! - Rosie x
-
June 1912
“Tommy!” Y/n shrieked as she bounded over to her friend in the stables. The summer sun was breaking through the thin cover of cloud that drifted over the fields today. Y/n watched as Tommy’s eyes met hers, a soft smile playing on his lips when he recognised her. Y/n pressed a kiss to Tommy’s cheek, smacking her lips louder than she needed to because she knew it wound him up. He made an exaggerated show of wiping the spot she’d kissed and Y/n punched him lightly in response, he laughed gently, feigning hurt as he rubbed his arm. 
Tommy was reverently brushing his mare, a bay horse who’s coat gleamed like copper coins under his attention. Tommy was a quiet man, never really as raucous as his brothers could be, but he laughed a lot, those soft little chuckles that never failed to make Y/n blush whenever she pulled one out of him. Tommy was a middle child, but Y/n knew he acted every bit the eldest. Having been blessed with intelligence, his head would soon be burdened with the crown of the Shelby family. Though he did laugh a lot, Y/n could often see the strain he felt as the head of the family, so it was nice to see him relaxed and in his own world. 
He was twenty two now, about a head taller than Y/n and she found him so frustratingly handsome. She watched as his solid muscles shifted beneath his crisp shirt with every movement over his mare’s back, all broad shoulders and quiet strength, it was no wonder he had every girl in Small Heath falling over themselves for the chance to go out with him, though he never seemed to care much. Despite the obvious physical attraction, Y/n’s favourite part of him was his bright blue eyes, shining like sapphires in the sun, like stormy seas in the shade. Y/n would like to pretend that she was better than all the other girls, far above so obviously throwing herself at Tommy; but it was hard to push down the magnificently huge crush she had on him when he gazed at her with those pools of blue. 
Y/n had known Tommy ever since she could remember, her mother was best friends with his Aunt, Polly Gray, they were practically sisters, and as her father had abandoned them before she was even born, the Shelby family pitched in to help wherever needed. Then, when Y/n was twelve years old, her mother passed and she’d lived with Polly ever since. She knew full well that Tommy only ever deemed her like a sister, but that didn’t stop her dreaming that he’d one day notice her affections. 
It didn’t help that Tommy always treated her like a child as well, chiding her when he’d seen her smoking for the first time, always referring to her and her friends as ‘the kids’. Y/n had hoped that now she was eighteen, Tommy might see her in a different light, might start treating her like an adult, but if anything he was even more overprotective. 
Just recently he’d refused to let her sit with him and his older brother, Arthur, in the Garrison, telling her, “It’s not proper for young ladies to listen to conversation like ours, you don’t want to be around us when we’re drinking anyway,”. It was kind of humiliating, especially when Arthur had laughed that booming laugh right in her face, so she gave up that night and trailed home, feeling every bit the little girl Tommy thought she was.
“You know, Mark’s been hanging around me a lot recently,” Y/n began, hoping that Tommy might get jealous if she talked about another guy, “Ada says she thinks he likes me,” 
Y/n got nothing more than a non committal grunt from Tommy, though his hands had stilled their work over his mare’s mane. 
“She thinks he’s going to ask me to go to the Garrison’s jazz night this weekend. As his date,” She added the clarification at the end, searching Tommy’s face for absolutely any reaction.
Tommy obviously wasn’t going to bite, so Y/n decided to try a more direct approach, “You know, if you asked me to go with you instead of him, I’d say yes,” 
For all the intelligence he apparently possessed, Tommy just looked at Y/n blankly, a puzzled eyebrow raised as he went back to grooming his horse.
“You know I don’t like jazz, Y/n,” Was all he said on the matter, and Y/n wondered if he really was that bad at picking up her hints or if he was ignoring her attempts at flirtation on purpose.
Y/n was beyond frustrated at the fact that Tommy just didn’t understand what she was trying to say, she had hoped distantly that maybe she had a head start on all the other girls who liked Tommy too; she knew him far better than they did after all. But maybe it was because they’d grown up together that Tommy couldn’t see her as a potential girlfriend, maybe she’d always be just a kid in his eyes. Maybe he had some misguided idea that he was protecting her feelings by pretending to be confused, because perhaps in reality he just wanted to reject her.
“Well maybe I’ll just say yes to Mark then,” Y/n snapped, all together fed up with trying to get her meaning across. She looked away from Tommy then, afraid that if he caught her eye that she’d start blushing. 
Tommy didn’t look up at her statement, just scratched at his horse’s ear as he said a bored, “Ok,” 
Y/n huffed, storming away in a barely contained stomping tantrum that would rival any fit Finn could throw. She felt utterly defeated as she walked away from Tommy, thoroughly embarrassed that she was a tiny bit jealous of a horse.
 March 1913
The sun was warm today, the first hints of spring blooming to bask in its light. The grass, damp with morning dew, caressed Y/n’s bare legs just below her skirt as she walked through the meadow in search of Tommy. Y/n knew he would be out here somewhere, desperate to get the family’s horses out in the fields for some exercise after the previous week’s relentless storms had kept them locked in the stables.
As she climbed her way over a short hill, Y/n’s eyes finally set on Tommy, who was standing under the shade of a tree, smoke from his cigarette billowing out of his mouth. Y/n ambled over, the closer she got she took in more of his appearance. He was dressed only in an undershirt tucked into his trousers, his suspenders hung loose by his legs. Tommy’s hair, not gelled down for once, flopped over by his ears. Y/n swallowed thickly as she remembered that she had a boyfriend waiting for her at home.
“Hi, Tommy,” She said softly, not wanting to startle him out of whatever daydream he seemed to be in.
“Y/n,” He replied simply, blowing some smoke in her face by way of greeting.
Y/n rolled her eyes as she waved the cloud of smoke away, faking a cough as she did.
“You got another one of those for me?” She asked with a gesture towards his cigarette, putting on the sweet voice she always used when she wanted something from Tommy.
He wordlessly opened his packet and she took one gratefully, leaning forward when Tommy flicked his lighter. Tommy moved in close to light Y/n’s cigarette for her, she held her breath as he did, wanting to avoid accidentally breathing in his dizzying scent of fresh soap and a hint of whiskey. Y/n took a long drag of the cigarette, having smoked almost half of it in one go when she finally exhaled. Tommy quirked an eyebrow at her obvious craving for the nicotine but didn’t comment.
Y/n relaxed her shoulders a little as she felt the effects of the smoke calm her rushing blood slightly, sagging against the tree as she pulled at the last dregs of the cigarette. Her mind wandered back to the problem at hand when she flicked the butt away into the grass. 
“To what do I owe the pleasure,” Tommy asked as he too finished his smoke.
Y/n sighed and looked off into the distance, her eyes finding two of the Shelby horses grazing at the far side of the field in the shade, “I think Mark is going to propose to me.”
She sighed out a breath and couldn’t stop the way her eyes immediately went to Tommy’s face, waiting for his reaction. Y/n had accepted months ago that Tommy wouldn't ever see her the way she wanted him to, so she shut the door on those feelings and kept them buried under Mark’s affections. But she couldn’t help but worry that the lock on her heart was too weak now that she spoke to Tommy about impending marriage, she was powerless to stop the small hope that Tommy might tell her to say no, knew she’d run right into his arms if he wanted her to.
“I’m not sure what light you think I’ll be able to shed on the matter,” Tommy responded, his bored voice grating on Y/n’s final nerve.
“I should’ve known you’d be no help,” She huffed, pushing away from the tree and smoothing her skirts with angry hands. She made to stomp off back across the field, like she always did when Tommy irritated her, but a warm hand circling the entirety of her wrist stopped her in her tracks.
“Alright, love, alright, stop your tantrum,” Tommy was barely concealing a laugh behind his hand, but Y/n could see the humour clearly in his twinkling eyes. 
“Shut up, Tommy,” Y/n replied, articulating her scowl with a harsh shove into Tommy’s side, “I’m just… not sure I want to marry him, at least, not so soon,” 
Tommy pushed his hair out of his eyes and seemed to consider for a moment, “Well, don’t you like him?” 
Y/n rolled her eyes, “Of course I like him, he’s sweet - kind to me, you know... Has a good job,” 
“Well there you go, if you like him, why can’t you marry him?” Tommy said, so matter of fact that Y/n might have thought he’d mulled this over before.
“That’s just the thing, Tom. I like him, sure. But I just described him like he’s a pet dog, not a potential husband,” Tommy snorts at that and Y/n can’t help the little giggle that escapes in response, “I just… I always thought I’d be madly in love with whoever I was to marry, I’m scared I’ll regret it if I say yes,” 
“What if you say no and regret it?” Tommy asked, his voice as soft as the breeze whispering over Y/n’s skin.
“You’re right. I don’t want to end up alone the rest of my life, and it’s not like anyone else is lining up for the chance to propose to me,” Y/n cringed at how obvious she sounded as she glanced at Tommy, she hunted for any change in those expressive eyes but came back disappointed when there was nothing. 
Tommy said nothing more, sensing that Y/n was deep in thought, so they stood there in comfortable silence as the sun climbed higher into the afternoon sky. 
Y/n felt bereft at the way her life had turned out. She and Ada used to dream of their weddings like all little girls did. They would excitedly tell each other all the details, what kind of dress they would wear, the colour of the bouquet they would hold, even the flavour of the wedding cake. They would clasp their little hands together and wish their dreams would come true, but there was one dream little Y/n never told Ada. The dream that a handsome blue eyed man would be waiting for her at the end of the aisle, he’d say she looked beautiful as he lifted her veil and they’d vow to belong to each other as long as they both lived.
Y/n's chest tightened sorrowfully as she felt that dream slipping through her fingers. No matter how tight she tried to hold onto it, she knew now that it would never come true.
“Come on,” Tommy spoke up, apparently done with the silence, “We can ride the horses back to the stables and I’ll see you home.”
Y/n felt pained by his words because they came from brotherly concern rather than the love she’d always wanted from him. He walked on ahead of her and Y/n closed her eyes, trying to find a way to barricade the door to her heart just a little more, so that maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much the next time Tommy smiled at her.
November 1913
Autumn came and went silently through the town of Small Heath. The residential area was completely taken up by dull houses and sooty factories, so Y/n always had to go searching for trees just beyond the cut if she wanted to see the change of the leaves before there weren’t any left. All that evidenced Autumn was a slight chill in the air and the constant heavy rain that deluged the narrow streets. 
Y/n and Mark had married in that quiet Autumn a month ago in a small ceremony attended by only Mark’s family and the Shelbys, including Tommy. Life since then had been sweet, Y/n had to admit. Mark absolutely doted on her, hanging on her every whim to keep her happy, and Y/n found herself a little besotted with being Mrs Mark Johnson too, much to her surprise. At the wedding reception, Tommy had done nothing more than offer a muttered congratulations and brood in the corner alone for the rest of the night. But for once in her life, Y/n couldn’t find it within herself to actually care what Tommy was doing, thoroughly intent on enjoying a day that was all about her.
Winter then took Autumn’s place. Freezing air bit at bare faces, the town blanketed by a persistent cover of grey cloud. Y/n pulled her coat even tighter around herself as she made her way to the Garrison, praying that she’d find Tommy there since he’d been putting great effort into avoiding her recently. As she neared the place she hoped she’d find the second oldest Shelby, Y/n felt firmly resolute about her plan to talk to him, as she knew his stubbornness all too well. She knew that he’d let the silence between them stretch on until the end of time if she didn’t do something about it. So she steeled herself as she reached the heavy doors of the Garrison and walked inside.
She was immediately hit by the familiar smell of stale alcohol and tobacco permeating the air, barely containing a shudder as her senses tried to get used to the offending scent. Y/n quickly scanned the main area and didn’t find her target, so she walked over to Harry, the barkeep, and smiled at him as he finished wiping a glass.
“Hi, Harry. Is Tommy here?” She asked, hoping he’d at least caught sight of him today.
“He’s in there,” Harry replied, glancing over at the snug and nodding in that direction.
“Thanks, Harry,” Y/n gave her best sweet smile as payment, feeling a little bad about not buying a drink.
She pulled open the door to the snug and felt triumphant as she finally laid eyes on Tommy. He didn’t even bother to try and conceal the heavy sigh he huffed when he made eye contact with her, strengthening Y/n’s resolve that she would confront him about his avoidance even further.
“Hello, Thomas,” Y/n opened the conversation, inviting herself to sit at the table with him. 
Tommy immediately brought out his pack of cigarettes, lit one and hastily shoved it between his lips as if he was trying to stop himself from speaking.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, smoke flowing out of his mouth with every word. 
Y/n was puzzled at the question, “Is this not a public place?” She asked her own question back but didn’t wait for a response, “I’ve been trying to meet with you for weeks now, Tommy, but you always had some convenient excuse to avoid me,”
Tommy kept his face even and calm, the only tell that he’d been found out being a minute twitch of his lip, “There’s always business to attend to these days, Y/n,” He offered his meagre reasoning, another hasty excuse to hopefully placate her.
“Business,” Y/n couldn’t help but scoff, “Tommy, we haven’t had a conversation as long as this one since my wedding!” She didn’t miss the way Tommy’s shoulders straightened at the mention of the wedding. Curious.
“Why have you really been avoiding me, Tom?” She asked, softening her voice a little in hopes that Tommy would be more liable to answer truthfully.
But just as he’d opened his mouth to speak, in waltzed Arthur, the very embodiment of awkward timing, barrelling in like a rearing stallion, voice booming as loud as gunfire. Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile that rose to her lips as Arthur pressed a rough kiss to the top of her head. 
“And how’s married life treating the new Mrs Johnson, eh?” Arthur articulated his thinly veiled innuendo with a suggestive wink.
“Just fine, thank you, Arthur,” Y/n replied with a smirk, quite enjoying the way Arthur’s eyebrows rose into his hairline, surprised that she’d actually played along.
“I bet there’ll be tiny little versions of you running around Small Heath in no time at all, eh, love?” He garbled around the cork of a whiskey bottle he’d pulled out with his teeth, pouring the amber liquid into his glass.
“Well, that might not actually be the case,” Y/n smiled a little sadly, watching as Tommy sat up a little straighter, quirking a confused brow as a means to ask her to explain.
“Mark has been looking at a property in the countryside, about an hour away from here. If nobody outbids us we’ll be moving come New Year,” Y/n looked down at her hands, her fingers twisting themselves into knots as she tried to avoid Tommy’s penetrating eyes.
Arthur hummed but didn’t say anything on the matter, and Y/n knew Tommy wasn’t going to offer anything new, recognising that the contemplative look on his face meant silence for the foreseeable. So she felt compelled to continue on explaining herself.
“With all this talk of war getting closer and closer to us, we really want to settle down and start a family sooner rather than later,” She rambled, feeling a little interrogated even though neither man had said anything yet. 
As Y/n flicked her eyes over to Tommy apprehensively, she saw that his jaw was completely set and he was gripping his whiskey glass so tight that his knuckles were white and his fist was shaking a little. 
Y/n looked at him quizzically, trying to make him meet her eyes by some sort of telepathy, but Tommy’s gaze remained firmly fixed on his alcohol. She couldn’t understand why he’d be angry with her about this, her move hadn’t come as a shock to anyone who actually spoke to her often; it had been on the cards pretty much as soon as they were married. Maybe it was because Tommy thought she’d be happier here, maybe it was because he didn’t like her husband; how was she to know if he rebuffed her every attempt at communication?
Silence continued on for a minute before Arthur, characteristically oblivious to the tension, piped up again, “Well! The countryside, eh? Sounds marvellous, love,”
Tommy raised his eyebrows, as if in disbelief, and shook his head, dragging on the last fragments of his cigarette. Y/n muttered a quiet thanks to Arthur as he stood, saying something about another bottle of whiskey from his private collection to celebrate. Her eyes followed Arthur’s slightly drunken gait as he made his way out of the snug.
“Thomas, why are you sulking at me?” She interrogated immediately as the door shut.
Tommy stamped out his cigarette in the ash try, “I’m not sulking,” he replied, frowning.
“Well, you’re doing an excellent impression,” Y/n countered, sighing when Tommy’s lips didn’t even attempt a smile, “I just don’t understand why you can’t even pretend to be happy for me at least,”
Tommy’s shoulders sagged at that and he finally lifted his head up to meet Y/n’s eyes, “Don’t get upset ok?” He began carefully, and just by his tone of voice, Y/n knew she absolutely was going to get upset, “I just didn’t think you’d marry so soon, especially after our conversation in spring, you said he was like a pet dog, not a husband. Now all of a sudden you’re moving away? I know you Y/n, you love our town, what if you hate it in the country?”
Y/n’s face flushed hot, she was utterly incensed that Tommy thought these things about her marriage and apparently just chose to never say a word about it, “Firstly, if I remember correctly about that conversation in spring, you offered me no actually helpful advice when I was obviously asking for it!” Y/n was careful not to shout, so her voice came out like a hiss, “Then you practically encouraged me to marry him! Now you want to act as if you’re the font of all knowledge when it comes to my marriage.”
Tommy bit his lip and scrubbed a rough hand over his face, the way he did when he was trying not to get angry, “I just can’t help but think that your decisions have been too hasty, Y/n,” he supplied, any sweetness in his voice long gone.
The words wounded Y/n deeper than anything he’d said to her before, she felt the tears pricking at her eyes as she tried not to show that she was upset. All she’d ever wanted was this married life with him, but now that she’d moved on and accepted that it was never going to happen, Tommy chose to criticise her every decision, blissfully ignorant of the fact that she had worked so hard to get over him.
“I could hardly wait for you forever, Tom,” Y/n whispered, suddenly feeling exhausted as all the memories of her relationship with Tommy flashed in front of her eyes, she couldn’t help but feel it was such a waste, pining after him for all that time. Such a waste to crave the affections of a man who didn’t pay enough attention to her to notice she was utterly in love with him.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Tommy finally said, looking away from Y/n’s tearful eyes.
“If you had such strong opinions on the choices I made, who I was going to marry, where I was going to live, maybe you should’ve voiced them while you still could’ve done something about it,” Y/n stood as soon as she finished her speech, walking towards the door when she was certain Tommy wasn’t going to speak again.
Tommy didn’t call after her when she left.
February 1917
The fire crackled distantly as Y/n stared blankly into the flames, amber light casting lonely shadows onto the walls of her cottage home. The room was near silent, but the thud of her heart in her ears was almost deafening. 
She clutched a telegram in her trembling hands and didn't bother to fight her tears as she read it for the fourth or fifth time, hoping this time she might make sense of the words written there on the page. But she didn’t know whether she couldn’t understand the sentences or just couldn’t believe the words were true.
Before the war hit England in July 1914, Y/n and Mark had spent a wonderfully happy, albeit short, married life. A few months before Mark was shipped off to France like every other man fit to fight, he worked as a clerk in the postal office of their little village, while Y/n looked after their house. She tended the garden too and often found peace planting flowers and thinking up new arrangements. Mark would come home every evening and greet Y/n with a kiss on her cheek before they sat down to eat dinner. Life was peaceful and picture perfect, no fighting, no drunkards lining the streets, no constant threat of crime. Y/n would be lying if she said she didn’t miss the chaos of Small Heath at least a little bit, but somewhere between their move to the country and Mark’s constant devotion, Y/n well and truly fell in love with him.
Now, as Y/n looked around her desolate sitting room, she realised she had absolutely nothing to prove that their love had ever happened. No matter how hard they had tried, God wouldn’t bless them with a child, and in the suffocating silence of this house, Y/n suddenly ached with longing to hear the patter of little feet running into her arms. At least she’d be comforted by the knowledge that a piece of their father resided still in this cottage, could look at their faces and still see his eyes looking back. But there was nothing, just utter loneliness.
Up until now, Y/n had grasped at any small shred of hope that Mark would return, ever since he left three years ago. She wrote to him every week, prayed for him every night, even though she wasn’t sure there was anyone listening anymore. She wished for his safe return and dreamed of the day he would warm their bed again. But now, there was no hope left in all the Earth that Y/n could beg for. There was no marriage, no husband to speak of as Y/n sat completely alone in this world, still clinging to that damned letter, her tears ruining the ink that spelled the end of her life.
Mark Johnson - Killed In Action.
July 1919
Y/n stepped off the train and took a heaving breath in as she tried to calm her nerves. Tendrils of anxiety curled around her chest as she carefully walked up the steps to leave the station, she knew she was only a short walk away from her home town and the odd need to run away was rising through her body.  
Only the month prior, Y/n had sold her cottage in the countryside, finally accepting that nothing was keeping her tied to that place anymore, accepting that she couldn’t fit in without Mark. In the village, every corner she turned was a reminder of her husband, the route he used to walk to work, their favourite spot in the park, the station where she'd kissed him for the last time. She twisted her wedding ring around her finger nervously, she’d kept it on even after Mark's memorial service, it seemed a simple service she could do her husband to wear it, to remember him every day.
Y/n decided to rent a flat just down the road from where she’d grown up, and the familiarity of the streets comforted her as she entered her new home, dropping her few belongings in the hallway. It wasn’t much, but as a woman alone Y/n didn’t really see the point of buying a big house with no one else to keep her company. She sagged against the door, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to get a whiskey, so she decided to leave the flat for a while and hoped that the Garrison would clear her head.
Almost as soon as she opened the door to the pub, Y/n could hear John’s familiar voice shouting over to someone at the bar and her eyes immediately landed on all of the Shelbys sat around a table, drinking various spirits and pints of ale. The relief she felt as she counted the boys and noted that they were all intact and alive was brief, she couldn't believe her bad luck that she had run into every Shelby the minute she set foot back in Small Heath. Y/n quickly scurried up to the bar, hopefully unnoticed by the family, deciding that she definitely wasn't having this reunion sober.
She had barely taken a sip of her whiskey when a voice called to her from across the room, "Well isn't this a sight for sore bloody eyes," Y/n heard Polly's familiar drawl and didn't need to look up from her glass to know all the attention was suddenly on her. Y/n gave up on the dainty sipping and knocked back the rest of her whiskey as the Shelbys began to descend like vultures to their prey. She focussed on the way the alcohol spread through her body, warming her and giving her that little bit more confidence as she gave a tight hug to her surrogate mother, "Hi, Pol," she said with a smile.  
"Now what the 'ell are you doing back 'ere, love?" Arthur spoke as he nodded to the barkeep to refill your glass.
Y/n sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden questioning even though it was only Arthur who had asked anything, "You ok?" Polly whispered, squeezing her arm. Y/n nodded quickly and took another gulp of whiskey, "I wasn't counting on seeing you all so suddenly, I only got here half an hour ago!" She laughed nervously, "But now's as good a time as any to say I've moved back here. Surprise!" There was a chorus of congratulations and happy remarks, but there was only one person's face Y/n searched for, and she finally felt like she was home when she found Tommy's blue eyes.
He looked different, older definitely, but there was a cold harshness in his eyes that Y/n had never seen before. She shivered at what those eyes might have seen in France.
"It's good to have you back round here, Y/n," Tommy said lowly, and Y/n felt like everyone else in the room had faded away as she let Tommy's presence wash over her.
"Let's get a bottle to celebrate!" Arthur boomed, ruffling her hair like he did when she was a child, "Where's that husband of yours?" Y/n sucked in a sharp breath at the tactless question, fighting back tears as she tried to remember that it wasn't their fault if they didn't know Mark had passed.
"Probably at home looking after the kids, eh, Y/n?" John chimed in, nausea rising in Y/n's stomach as she tried to get a word in edgewise before someone said something they would regret.
"Nah, he's probably avoiding the pub, you know he can't handle his booze," Tommy was the one to pipe up that time and Y/n hated the cruel edge to his laugh, she'd hoped he'd grown up enough to get over his childish dislike of her husband.
"Tommy," Polly warned in that low, threatening voice of hers, picking up on Y/n's quickened breathing and tearful eyes. But Tommy carried on laughing, oblivious to his Aunt's insistence that they stop making fun, "You have to admit, he's always been a bit of a boring bastard," and there was the last straw. Before she'd even told her arm to move, Y/n's hand was flying at Tommy's face, slapping him right across the cheek so hard his head actually looked like it might detach from his neck. It happened so quickly Y/n wasn't quite sure if she had actually done it or not, but the boys had stopped laughing instantaneously, and the way Polly physically flinched told her she had genuinely just smacked Tommy Shelby. "How dare you," Y/n hissed before she could think better of it, her voice cold as steel, "My husband is dead, Thomas, have some fucking respect," The entire pub had gone silent, all staring intently at the scene unfolding, but wincing at Y/n's words, like they were watching a car accident happen right in front of them, too morbidly curious to look away. To his credit, John looked thoroughly ashamed of himself even though he hadn't said anything insulting and Arthur's eyes looked like they might pop out of his head, Y/n might have laughed had the cause been different. "Y/n, love, I'm sorry, we-" Arthur reached out as if to comfort her, but he cut off his sentence when Y/n flinched away from his touch, too overwhelmed to be crowded by him. She didn't know when she'd started to cry, but tears were flooding down her cheeks and pooling on the floorboards at her feet.
"Right. John, Arthur? Time to go," Polly insisted, ever the observant one, she knew that Tommy and Y/n had some talking to do. Neither man moved at first, but all it took was for Polly to level them with her menacing glare and they were hurrying out of the pub faster than a horse at full gallop.
Tommy and Y/n stood in silence for a moment, Y/n being too scared to speak because she desperately didn't want to acknowledge that she'd just slapped him.
"Y/n, I'm so sorry," Tommy finally whispered, and his voice was so genuinely sincere that it broke the final shred of dignity that Y/n cared to hold onto, and she started to cry louder than she had even let herself cry at Mark's memorial. Tommy opened his arms and that was all the prompting Y/n needed to fall straight into his chest, she sniffled as he cradled her head against his steadily beating heart, he shushed her softly and held her tight, "Come on now, love, let's go in the other room yeah? We can talk away from all the prying eyes,"
Y/n allowed herself to be led into the snug, struck by how familiar it was even after all these years, Tommy lowered her carefully onto the couch, as if he was afraid she might fall over.
"I'm sorry for hitting you, Tommy," Y/n babbled as soon as her breathing evened out, "It's not your fault, you didn't know Mark was dead,"
Tommy rubbed his cheek and smiled lightly, "Don't apologise, I deserved it. You've got some power in that hand, you know? Not sure any man has ever hit me that hard," Y/n giggled despite herself, sniffing and wiping at her face to dry the tears.
"So how come you're moving back here?" Tommy asked as she sagged into the couch, he avoided asking about Mark's death, sensing that she'd talk about it in her own time.
"Everything back at the village just reminds me of him, I couldn't stand it. Every time I left the house I couldn't stop thinking about how I waved him off to France, to fucking war, and didn't know he was never coming back. So I just isolated myself, only left the house to buy food, never made any friends because I couldn't bring myself to walk around without him by myside, I couldn't walk around as if nothing had happened," Tommy just hummed, knowing there was more to say and just waiting for Y/n to go on, "So when I finally sold the house, I decided to make a new start somewhere I knew would be easy to fit in,"
"You were right, you know," Y/n laughed into the quiet of the room, "I really did miss it round here. I missed how unpredictable it was, the routine of the village was hard to get used to but..." She teared up all over again as her husband's smiling face flashed in her mind, "I really did love him,"
"I'm sorry," was all Tommy said as Y/n swallowed around the lump in her throat.
"I didn't think I'd fall in love with him so deeply. At the start, my main reason for marrying him was because I thought I had no other option," Y/n confessed, not entirely sure why she was spilling all of her secrets to the man she used to love.
"I always thought you liked him a lot either way," Tommy said, a confused edge to his tone, "You used to talk about him constantly,"
Y/n laughed a genuine laugh at that, reminded suddenly of herself at seventeen, "I only talked about him so much because I thought it would make you jealous,"
Tommy's head shot up at that, and Y/n was once again concerned about the structural integrity of his neck, "Jealous?" He reiterated, pausing the rolling of a new cigarette to stare at Y/n expectantly.
"Yeah, I used to hint at you all the time about my very massive crush on you. But for all the good your intelligence apparently does, you never got it. Or, you know, you were just trying to let me down gently,"
Tommy looked like he was about to choke, or possibly stop breathing all together, "Hold on, you liked me?"
Y/n rolled her eyes at Tommy, assuming he was overreacting on purpose, "I know, it's embarrassing Tommy, don't make fun of me. But yes, I didn't just like you. I loved you, Tommy, ever since I was eleven,"
"Oh my god," Tommy breathed, suddenly struggling to get his rolling paper to stick.
"What? There's no need to be dramatic, Thomas," Y/n said, voice snippy due to her slight mortification.
"I just... I liked you too, for years, but I thought you didn't have any feelings for me since you were going out with Mark,"
Y/n was sure her blood had turned cold in her veins, either that or someone must have dumped a bucket of ice over her head, "Are you serious right now? Tommy, you should've just told me! I was being so obvious with my hints and you just refused to see it!"
Tommy looked indignant as he gave up on rolling his cigarette, "Well, why didn't you just tell me!" Y/n couldn't deny that that was an excellent point, "Anyway, I was sure someone as beautiful as you couldn't possibly have feelings for someone like me,"
Y/n slumped in her seat, overwhelmed by the revelations, she smiled as she imagined how she would've reacted to this information when she was a teenager all those years ago.
"Oh, Tommy, you're an idiot!" Tommy started to laugh and Y/n couldn't help soon joining in, feeling weightless for the first time since the war. She gazed into Tommy's eyes again, searched for the same look they'd had when he was in his early twenties, even though she knew she wouldn't find it. He'd changed so much, they both had, but in that moment she wondered if they really could just be the same two kids who loved each other so much, couldn't help but wonder how their lives would've played out if they'd both had the courage to admit their feelings.
Y/n didn't know when it happened, but their faces were suddenly only a hair's width apart, she could feel his breath whispering over her mouth, he smelled sweet despite the tobacco that clung to him. Y/n's eyes fluttered closed out of instinct, her heart thudding as she let herself be intoxicated by Tommy's entire being. But just as their noses touched, she sprung away from Tommy like he'd burned her.
"I'm sorry, that was-"
"No, don't apologise," Y/n cut him off before he could start spiralling, "Tommy... I've loved you since the day I met you, and... I think I always will love you, no matter what happens, or what has happened. You mean the world to me," she stared at her hands, afraid of the vulnerability she felt as she laid her heart at Tommy's feet, "But you have to understand... I loved my husband too, and I can't help but feel like I'm betraying him, because I'm falling for you so fast all over again. I'd - I'd feel so guilty if I rushed into something with you when he loved me so much before he passed. I can't just forget him."
"I won't ask you to," Tommy replied, tentatively putting his warm hand on Y/n's knee, making her look up at him, "But I have loved you too, and I love you right now, and I'll love you tomorrow. I won't ever be able to forgive myself if I let you get away again, not now that I know you feel the same. I want to be with you, whenever you're ready. We can take it slow,"
Y/n was breathless, like all the air in the room had suddenly been sucked out, she was completely consumed by thousands of thoughts running through her head all at once, "What does slow look like?" She whispered, entirely swept up by the ocean of love in Tommy's eyes.
"It starts like this," He murmured softly, taking Y/n by the hand and brushing his lips against her knuckles, "Then it might continue if you'll accompany me to dinner soon?"
"I'd like that Tommy," Y/n replied, a wave of relief flowing through her body, grateful that she could find love again at her own pace.
Tommy leaned in slowly and placed the most gentle and reverent kiss on Y/n's cheek, looking so deeply into her eyes that she thought he might be gazing directly at her soul, his voice was full of adoration as he said, "I promise I won't ever let you go,"
425 notes · View notes
Note
Am I the asshole for not noticing I hurt my friend's feelings?
I (24F) had a somewhat close friend (24F) whom I've known since highschool but only got closer to recently. I've had a friend crush on her forever and apparently she did too. We share a lot of interests and we're both neurodivergent (I'm diagnosed with adhd, and we're almost certain she has autism). We also sort of bonded over a shared trauma -- basically we got two-timed several years ago by a really abusive asshole.
Anyway something happened a couple of months ago and I feel our friendship has gone downhill since then. It was multiple occasions really: what would happen is that I would say something impulsively, and she would misinterpret it and get sensitive about it, we talk it out, I apologize, and we move on. But one time it was a bit too much that i burst into tears while texting her because I felt I really hurt her and I felt that all my friendships will go downhill because whenever I get comfortable with someone I just completely lose my filter and end up hurting them. What happened that day was that we were hanging out and a guy apparently told her something sexist but I didn't hear him. She came to me to complain and I sort of brushed it off because from the way she said it happened it just seemed he was vaguely pointing out something but I later understood that I was just wrong. Then her dress had a tiny hole which I pointed out to her in front of my boyfriend rather impulsively and she got really upset about that. Later on I was telling her about a book I'd read that had great autism representation that didn't have the character just be -- and here I did the dinosaur arms thing (no offense whatsoever to people who do that; I know full well it's a common thing, I was just saying the character had more to him than just that). The problem is that she didn't hear the part where I was talking about a book character because we were changing tables in a crowded cafe and I was just talking non-stop because that's what I do and she thought I just did the dinosaur arms out of nowhere and got offended but didn't say so except over text later and just looked unwell for the rest of the next half hour before she suddenly excused herself and left. That day she texted me about all of these things and we talked it out and I pretended that I was not literally having a meltdown all while apologizing (but not before I tried to plead my case a bit). This all happened on the same day, but before that there were other occasions too. One time she would be talking about something, then I change the subject, then she'd say I know you didn't mean to but I wanted you to give a reply to what I just said. Another time we had a particularly bad exam which I did okay on, but she was telling about how she botched it. I couldn't tell from her face how serious it was and I gave her what i thought was a sympathetic smile (which she later told me was a weird smile) because I really didn't know what to say and then turned away to look for my boyfriend to check on him as well. She told me that day that she felt that I brushed her off when she was having a difficult time and didn't console her enough.
It's just multiple things that made me feel that I need to be more on guard around her for her sake. She moved to another city recently and even before that we were texting less and less. I even asked her if she was upset about the cafe day and she said no since I apologized and we talked it out, but I could feel something in our relationship changed. It just felt like such a shame because I felt a great connection between us and I have massive difficulties when it comes to making friends. She was sort of my last friend that I felt close to aside from my boyfriend, and now I can't help thinking that the problem has always been me.
Sorry if the post was too long and sorry for the sob story lol
54 notes · View notes
chelleztjs18 · 1 year
Text
Stars (E.O)
Fem!Reader x Elizabeth Olsen
Tumblr media
Summary: Lizzie has to attend a party and you know your girlfriend very well so you plan a relaxing surprise to help her with anxiety.
Warnings: None. Just bunch of fluff here and there. lol
A/n: Hello! I'm back. Happy Valentine's day peeps! I'm here with a new fic of my favorite genre, fluff! This fic is for my Curious George anon. Thank you for helping me brainstorming on this one, darling! I feel a little rusty with my writing but Happy reading y'all! I hope you enjoy this.
Also, here is the song I mentioned in this fic:
Main Masterlist
The soft white light shines the room perfectly. Calming sophisticated tunes float around the venue of the party you and Lizzie are at.
The clock shows that both of you have been attending the party for over two hours then you look at your girlfriend again. Bunch of friends and colleagues have come up to both of you to catch up and have some small talks. Her smile and laughter really warm your heart but you know how she really feels because of her social anxiety. You saw her keep playing with her ring whenever she is talking with somebody.
You knew this would happen, no matter how well she handles it. You know that Lizzie always gets nervous every time she has to be in a social event with a lot of interactions but she couldn't miss this party so here you are with her now with a surprise you have planned for her.
As soon as Rachel Weisz and Rachel McAdams finally get distracted from talking to Lizzie by other Marvel casts, you gently pull her away a little to talk to her.
"Love, come with me. I have something to show you.” You whispered and took her hand.
“Okay. Where are we going? What is it, babe?” Her eyebrows furrowed as she asked curiously in a whisper.
Her soft hand grips yours tighter as her steps follow yours to the valet service in the front of the party venue.
"Babe, why are we leaving the party? Wait, is that your truck? Why is it here?" The blonde looks puzzled as soon as she sees the valet clerk drives your car and pulls in front of both of you. “It’s a surprise. Now, shall we go, my lady” You smile lovingly at her question and proceed to open the door for her as your hand gestures the way for her to get in.
Flustered and with blushing cheeks, she smiles. “Wow, you are really full of surprises, aren’t you Y/n Y/l/n?” She finally gets into your truck. “Yes, I am.” You wink and you close the door.
On the way to where your surprise is at, Lizzie gives quite some effort to find out what you've been planning or simply how or who helped you with this but you are adamant not to say any of it and always try to talk about something else.
You can't lie, you are nervous yet excited at the same time when you have arrived at the desert.
Lizzie looks around outside then looks up to your truck's sun roof and instantly holds your hand. "Hmm so quiet here and look at all those stars babe! This is really nice! Thank you for the surprise, y/n." She exclaims and leans to kiss you cheek.
You chuckles. "Lizzie darling, you don't think that we would just sit here to watch the night sky, right?"
Once again, she looks puzzled. "Isn't this the surprise you meant?"
Your thumb rubs the back of her hand. "Well, part of it. I know your anxiety would come because of this big party so I planned this so you can calm down and relax from everything. I asked Aubrey to drive this truck so we could switch rides. So here you go, get comfy and put this on. I'll wait for you outside. No peeking." You take your turn and give her lips a quick kiss shortly after you hand her a pair of sweaters and sweatpants you prepared. She takes them off your hand happily.
You are preparing everything while she is changing. "Ready, Liz?" You asked.
"Yeah, can I see it now?" She asks. Anticipation is killing her by now.
You scurry to the passenger side. "Close your eyes, sweetheart." She follows what you ask her as you lead her way to the back of your truck.
"Okay. You can open your eyes now."
A gasp flew out of her as soon as her eyes adjusted with the view in front of her. Fairy lights around the frame of your truck. Two pillows lay perfectly on a mattress that is covered by a warm thick blanket. Lizzie sees a tray of cheese and fruit plate with some small pieces of her favorite sandwiches complete with a bottle of sparkling cider and two glasses.
"Are those…" she asks but you finish her question. "Your favorite sandwich and sparkling cider? Yes." You smile with your hands rubbing the side of her arms.
She turns to you in a split second, hugging you and giving you a longer peck of kiss. "Thank you baby! This is beautiful!" Excitement sounds clear in her tone and oh that smile of hers is priceless.
"Anything for you. Now let's enjoy your surprise and watch the stars." You pick her up to get on the back of your truck and take a seat on the soft mattress. Silence spreads wide in your surroundings, a cold breeze brushes over the skin but is defeated by the blanket over both of you. Two of you share food and drink together while talking about anything, joking around with each other and sharing some laughs as well.
Warmth spreads inside her and joy rapidly bubbles in your heart. You look at the woman you love next to you and every second you fall in love all over again with her.
She leans to you and lays her head on your shoulder as soon as you extend your arms for a hug. You wrap your arms around her, feeling her snuggle up as close as she can. Your hand runs slowly on the side of her arms and then enjoys the view of the sky full of stars together for another good half hours in a very comfortable silence. Letting the lovely intimate and romantic ambience soaked in between you and your girlfriend. You give a short gentle kiss on the crown of her head.
"Liz, do you remember when we talked about an old radio I had when I was younger?" Your question breaks the silence.
"The one that you always use to record a list of songs with it?" She answers you with a question with a very relaxed tone.
"Yes and guess what? I found one online and I got you something." Your arm unwraps her body and you pull out an old radio tape of a box 
"Another surprise?" She asked in such a thrill followed by an ear to ear smile.
You laughed. "Yes. Here you go." You shook your head a little at her antics and handed her a cassette tape.
"Our Soundtracks." Lizzie mumbles the title of the cassette and it definitely lures even a bigger smile and happiness bloomed inside her. Her eyes avert to the nice rows of song titles that you wrote on the cover. They are all meaningful songs for you and Lizzie throughout 2 years of relationship.
"You made me this?" She asks and gets a nod and a smile from you as an answer.
Her brain shortly ordered her green eyes to search for one particular song and she gasps softly. Her eyes look at you in awe. "Aaw you put Noah Gundersen's acoustic version of Yellow in it!"
Her excitement makes you laugh. "Of course..it's our favorite song. Let me play it." She lets you take the cassette and plays it. The soft romantic song starts to play and all of a sudden Lizzie brings herself off the truck. While your mind trying to figure out what she is doing, she extended her hand. Without a question your hand takes hers.
“This song always makes me want to slow dance with you.” She says as she pulls you closer to her and both of you start to sway slowly.
"You know that I can't dance, right?"
"Oh sweetie, I know you can." Her smile brightens up the dark desert around you and your heart.
"Hey now, you are the one who always does the happy dance, not me." You tease and then you raise her hand to spin her slowly. She giggles as soon as she's back in your arms after the spin.
The more you both dance, the more you and Lizzie sink in such intimate moments. Your heart feels light and she feels drunk in happiness. You can hear her take a relaxed deep breath.
“Thank you for all this, babe. You are the best! The whole package and I’m so lucky to have you.” She expressed then hugged you a little tighter.
You laugh nervously and you are relieved that she doesn’t see your blushing cheeks. “Oh, quit it, love. I was just doing my best pampering you because you deserve it.” You rub her back so gently.
She looks up to you in adoration. “And I was just telling you the truth.” She completed her compliment with a small gentle kiss then she smiled on your lips.
In mid slow dancing and enjoying the delightful sky, you heard her exclaim “Y/n, a shooting star! Quick! Make a wish.” She points and immediately closes her eyes. You find it very cute to see her smile while she quietly makes her wish.
She opens her gorgeous eyes, you could’ve swear that your heart skipped a bit just now when you see her green eyes that you adore with all the love you have for her. It always happens no matter how many times you see them, you are even sometimes stunned by her beauty and forget how to breathe. She smiles at you. “Did you make a wish?” She asks in a blissful tone.
“Oh uh no I didn't. I was looking at how excited you were, it made me happy and I forgot to make a wish. What wish did you make?” you chuckle.
“Nope, I’m not gonna tell you about it.”
You cackle once more and let out your curiosity about her answer. "Why?"
"Because… what if it's not gonna happen if I tell anyone about it?" She quickly gives you her reason.
"Ah okay okay. Well, tell me when it comes true please." You request as you spin her one more time.
"Oh yeah, for sure.. You'll know it."
With that you and Lizzie spend a little more time enjoying the night.
______
The night’s sky is clear, fairy lights shine in your surroundings. You feel her soft hand holding yours and the other on your shoulder as you wrap your right hand wraps her waist. Both of you sway around together with the same song you played that night at the desert is playing softly.
Everybody is quiet and drinking the view in awe, watching you and Lizzie cherish each other. You admire every single feature of her face. Her eyes twinkle and they are prettier than any stars you’ve seen in the sky. Her cute nose whenever she scrunches it always makes you laugh. Her ravishing smile makes her as pretty as a picture. You are hypnotized by her look in an all white wedding dress, doing the first dance together.
“Babe, remember that night I made a wish when we saw a shooting star in the desert?” She asks softly with an elation.
“Yes? What about it?”
“This was it. I made a wish that someday we will get married and grow old together.” Your wife revealed, looking up to you with heart eyes.
“Aww, that was really cute but you know what? Make a wish or not, I would still marry you. I knew you were the one since the first time we met.”
“You are so adorable. I love you, Y/n.”
“I love you too.” You sealed her lips with a loving kiss.
A/n: Welp, that's it for today. Let me know what you think. Reblog and comment are highly appreciated. Follow me for more. See you in next!
Cheerio!
A/n: @madamevirgo @musicinourlips @unstable-sapphic-hoe @fanboy7794 @chloe7076 @b0mbdotc0m @trikruismybitch @ichala @californianwhiterabbit @honey-sweet-hiraeth @imfuckinggenius @sxfwap @chaekhan @daenerys713 @luvmcgrath @stupidsapphicsstuff @pattypavo @frvny @franfineashell @heyyoweveryone @ygtft-chen @yaaskasey @sweeet-likeeee-cinnamonn @paumxmff @dopeyouth @beaniejennie @ineedafinghug @idkwhatimwriting @lucydiibi @mainly-rebloging-fics-i-like @gloriousfoxruins @grxvitye @mcubreakdown101 @aos22 @wandanatstan @paulawand @yeeterthekeeper @femalehomosexual666 @snowdrop1026 @modernmonalisa @nothingisrealanyway @idamaemann @sweeterlust @royalityofmultifandom @playboysaleen @peabrain112 @gwhaley127 @harleyswanda @bodhi-j @darth-rainbow @cristin-rjd , 
496 notes · View notes
sandy-the-glader · 2 months
Note
Hi!! I hope this is okay!! If not, no worries!! 💜💜💜 (I love you lots!)
Can I please request an Adrian Chase x fem!innocent!reader Where while Adrian is out and about doing his Vigilante work he comes across a bunch of criminals in a warehouse, and after they’re all “taken care of”, he hears someone crying and finds a girl hiding behind a pile of the criminal’s stuff, and she’s handcuffed to something over there, so she couldn’t leave even if she wanted to. She’d obviously be completely terrified of Vig, but as we know, he is very good at reading a person and would clearly see that she is innocent, and had been taken by the bad guys. Normally he would just set the innocent girl free and be on his way, having already taken care of the bad guys, however… He had unfortunately taken off his mask right before finding her, and had forgotten to put it back on, so she has seen his face. Panicking, he just picks her up, and takes her to his car with him, driving straight to the 11th Street Kids HQ, carrying in a terrified Y/n, he himself all panicked, and the team is like “wtf did you do????” “Did you abduct her???” And he’s just like, “No no, I saved her! But then she saw my face… So I guess, yes??”
Lmao it’s honestly a mess, but the team takes care of Y/n’s injuries, apologies for Adrian’s behavior lmao, and lets her stay there until she has recovered, as not only is she hurt, but very scared. After a while of staying with them, she gradually starts warming up to Adrian, him desperately trying to get her not to be afraid of him anymore (for a while there she was terrified of him), and their relationship eventually grows into a more romantic and intimate one🥺🥺🤧
Afraid of Me
Tumblr media
*Not my gif*
Character: Adrian Chase x SoftFem!Reader
Type: Fluff and sorta angsty
Length: 5.4K (a bit long)
Summary: Request above <3
Trope: Strangers to friends to lovers, Slow-burn
A/N: LONG A/N!! Sorry this took forever I've been busy with a lot of stuff and I just haven't had any time but I worked on this whenever I could. Btw again I bent the request a little bit (I'm not sure if I wrote what you wanted for it and I apologize ) so I hope it’s okay I just made this go over the whole period of time the show does and like more so there's more time for a bond to be built lol
I heard a quick gunshot followed by another. Tears continued to fall from my eyes as I was tied to some random wall in some warehouse, Apparently, I was not supposed to come across two men selling heroin to each other but here I am. They claimed I saw too much, took me, and tied me up. Who even does that?
I just wanted to return to my apartment and read this new book I bought. That's all I had planned for my day anyway. Yet now I was tied to a pole in some wet and cold warehouse with random crates surrounding me. I tugged and tried to break from but it was helpless. I cried and sniffled as I continued to try but there was no avail.
Were those shots from them or someone else? Please god, let someone save me. I had been here for hours and I was scared of what they had planned for me. They already hit me pretty hard over the head which caused a small trail of blood to fall from my temple.
I heard loud and heavy footsteps coming towards me. I braced myself and waited for the figure to come around the crate to where I was. He was wearing a teal suit, with blood covering it. It was Vigilante. Should I be happy or terrified? He's a killer but isn't he supposed to be a hero?
"Fuck oh my god." He gasped slapping a gloved hand over his mouth. He was missing one exceptionally important part of his suit. His mask. That must have been why he was so frantic.
In all honesty, he looked nothing like I always pictured him. He was lanky with glasses and he looked really young. He looked mid-twenties though I had a feeling he was older. He honestly looked nerdy.
"I'm sorry. I really won't tell anyone who you are. I-I mean I don't even know your name." I stammered. He didn't care though because he continued to curse.
"Fuck fuck fuck. This is so not good." he groaned. The man ran a thick hand through his hair while bouncing back and forth. "Umm." He pondered confused about what to do. "Shit, I can't let you go." My eyes widen. He already has saved me why not let me go on my merry way? He took off his glasses and put his mask back on.
He came over to me and examined my situation. He crouched down and started untieing the rope that kept me on the pole but didn't bother with the ones around my hands or feet.
I was about to thank him for his acts but he picked me up and started to carry me out. Oh, he's actually not letting me go.
"What are you doing!?" I panicked. I started wiggling my body in his grasp then he held me tighter. "Where are you taking me? This hurts." He continued to keep walking until we reached his car a couple of feet from the warehouse.
Holding me with one hand, he opened the door to his back seat and tossed me in. Judging by his face, he didn't mean it to be as aggressive but it was enough to get me to shut up. He slammed the door and rushed over to the driver's seat.
This is it. After all that's happened today I'm being kidnapped by Vigilante and who knows what's going to happen. I guess the law doesn't apply when it comes to him. I actually can't believe it right now.
The entire car ride was silent. Not a sound from the man or from me. It was terrifying. All I could think of was what was going to happen to me. it took him forever to get to his destination and when we got there I realized it was some rundown video store. That couldn't be where we're going right?
-
"Guy's we got a fucking situation!" Adrian called opening the door with the girl in his hands. The whole team in the building stared at him with wide 'What the fuck' like eyes.
"Who the fuck is that?" Economos asked adjusting his glasses and leaning over his desk.
Adrian (not so carefully) dropped the woman on the floor making her yelp out in shock and pain.
"Did you just kidnap a girl?" Adebayo's eyes widened at the sight.
"No Adebayo!" He yelled defensively. "Okay, well technically yes but-" He was cut off quickly.
"And why did you bring her here?" Harcourt burst out running a hand through her blonde hair.
"Okay, I was doing my badass stuff, right? Like beating up these bad dudes and I found her behind some crates." They all stared at him waiting for him to continue. "And since I didn't know these dudes took a hostage I took my mask off and that's-" He removed his mask again and replaced the glasses on his face. "Really bad." He grimaced.
"Adrian what the hell dude you could have left her. She would have never turned you in. Look at her. No offense." Chris said. She stayed silent like she never heard the comment in the first place.
She was scared to death, trembling on the floor with small tear streaks down her face. Some of the tears mixed in with blood on the left side of her face. She looked innocent as could be and she definitely didn't deserve to be in this mess.
"Dude what the fuck!" He shouted at Chris. "Now she knows my real name! You have so fucked me!" He continued to cure which didn't make the girl feel any better.
"I did not fuck you! Besides it's your fault for bringing her here anyway." Chris furrowed his eyebrows looking back and forth between the petrified girl and his idiotic friend.
"What is happening out here?" Murn came out from one of the rooms and immediately regretted his decision. "We're supposed to be working on the project butterfly case what are you doing Chase?" He asked sternly.
"Oh, now she knows about Project Butterfly!" Harcourt placed a hand on her forehead.
"Well, it's not like I can kill her because she's innocent" The girl's face drained at the mention of death. "and we can't get rid of her because she might tell someone who I am!" Adrian wined out. He was finally right about one thing.
"She also might screw our plan up," Murn muttered trying to think of a reasonable thing to do with this girl.
"Then what do you suppose we do with her?" Economos folded his arms. The girl had been silent the entirety of this conversation but she finally piped up.
"Um.." Her voice caught everyone's attention and they turned their heads to look at her. "I-I can clean and o-organize around here." She stammered. "I can help you guys just please don't kill me." She pleaded. They all non-verbally agreed she had been through enough judging by the look of blood running from her temple and dirt caking her shirt.
"Yeah that honestly could be useful," Harcourt spoke. She looked around the room to only be met with agreeing faces. She let out another deep sigh before Murn spoke up.
"You will work the same hours as us and will get paid a fair amount." He folded his arms tightly over his chest. He didn't ask he just demanded she work.
"I'm also a fast learner and I can help you with anything you need. I don't have a current job so that would be perfect." She tried to look at the bright side of the situation. I can work for money but this is a destructive and hard-core business she pondered. "And since this is a very um dangerous job I just so happened to be trained in medical care." She offered.
"Oh, sweet! That's perfect so now dyed bear can stop doing such a shit job of stitching me up!" Chris smiled.
"Hey!" Economos protested. It was perfectly fine he thought.
"What about my living situation? C-can I still stay In my apartment?" She asked. They all looked around at each other because that was one thing they hadn't thought of. If they let her stay, she could always tell people without them knowing.
"If we let you stay in your apartment, you must realize he" Murn pointed at Adrian Chase himself. "has to keep watch of you? He somehow always knows if someone is doing something they shouldn't be." She nodded slowly. "And if you tell anyone and I mean anyone you will be terminated immediately, do you understand?" He spoke firmly making her hands tremble.
"I understand." She muttered.
"Now that everyone is done with this whole situation I suggest you get back to work," Murn concluded walking back to his office annoyed with the inconvenience.
-
I sat there absolutely stunned at what just happened. I just got myself into a bat shit crazy job. I mean I don't even know these people and one of them literally abducted me. This is not normal.
Project butterfly? Are these guys all heroes or something? I already was aware of Vigilante's existence and somewhat Peacemaker but there's a lot more than just those two.
"Oh my god, he didn't even untie you." The blonde-haired woman spoke in surprise. I didn't say anything because really what was I supposed to say? "I'm Harcourt." She kneeled beside me. She opened a switchblade and sliced through the ropes binding my hands together and then my feet. "Come on let's get you cleaned up. She went and collected the first aid kit from one of the desks on the left side of the room and motioned for me to sit at her desk. "What's your name?" She asked.
"Y/n L/n." I said quietly as I stared into my lap anxiously.
"Come sit Y/n." She said calmly trying to make me comfortable.
I stood up uneasily and almost fell back down. I steadied myself and carefully walked over to the chair and sat down gently. She pulled out a couple of cotton swabs and some alcohol. She poured the strong liquid onto the small ball.
"I'm sorry about him." Harcourt hummed taking the cotton swab to my forehead.
"Hm?" I replied softly.
"Adrian." She looked me in the eyes. "He just isn't all there sometimes." She mumbled. She tossed the bloodied-up swab in the trash and put a bandage over the small cut.
I looked over at Vigilante who I guess was named Adrian. He was talking to Peacemaker and he looked perfectly innocent. Not even an hour earlier he was tossing me into the back of his car. Jesus, what did I really get myself into? Not only does he have to escort me home, but now I have to work with him. He's a psycho!
"She has a point you know." The woman I was pretty sure was Adebayo spoke up. I glanced at her and she nodded trying to make me realize it. "He's a really good guy you just have to get to know him. I get it he basically kidnapped you but he's stupid in everything but fighting."
"Yeah okay," I mumbled softly. I don't care what they say now I can't trust him after what he did unless he really proves he's trustworthy. At least these people actually had the decency to tend to my wounds.
She continued to bandage and take care of every cut I had on my arms and face. I enjoyed her already because she was delicate to me and cared about my feelings. Pretty quickly she finished and put all the materials away.
"Come over here I think we found a box of old clothes you could change in." She led me back into the store and I could feel Adrian's eyes burning into my back.
-
"Dude she's afraid of me!" I panicked at Chris looking him dead in the eye. I waited for her to leave before I talked to my best friend about the whole thing.
"Well, I mean you did throw her in the back of your car. Chicks don't really dig that. Unless they're like hardcore." Okay yeah obviously I fucked up big time but I was under a lot of pressure and I wasn't doing what I should have!
"Dude I didn't know what else to do." I whined
"I mean you just gotta make things right with her I guess. I don't know I usually don't have to apologize to girls." He shrugged his shoulders. Great okay how am I supposed to do that when she's obviously afraid of me? Fuck. "Listen when you walk her to her apartment just be like 'Sorry for kidnapping you in my shitty car that was a pretty bad thing to do!' or something like that." I let out a heavy sigh. This is never going to work.
-
I came back out to the main room in a sweatshirt with the video store's logo on it and sweatpants that were longer than my actual legs with the same logo down the side of it. I held my original clothes in my arms and I was quiet.
What do I do now? Go home? How am I supposed to feel safe in my own home when I know that guy is watching me?
"Listen." Harcourt grabbed my attention. "You can take as much time as you need before you go home. I know that was probably a traumatic experience for you so let me know when you want to leave." She spoke as if she had read my mind. I nodded. "Also we have your address so we can get you home easily." Okay well, I told her my name and that was all it took to find out where I lived. Spectacular.
"What are my work hours?" I still can't believe I got myself to work for these people.
"Just don't get here any later than 8. Hours are different every day. Since you now work here I guess I should tell you who everyone is." She pointed to Peacemaker and Vigilante who were still chatting near the corner of the room "Chris and Adrian ." Then to the other man in glasses. "Economos." The guy in the other room that I could see through the glass. "Murn." Finally, she pointed at the last girl which I already knew. "and Adebayo."
I stood around for not too much longer before very anxiously describing to Harcourt my wishes to leave. She understood fully and went over to Adrian to make him take me home. He looked at me with some sort of care in his eyes but I just couldn't look at him so my eyes fell back to the sight of the floor.
"Come on kid." Harcourt motioned with her head to leave out the door with the man. I walked out the door and the cool air hit me as the sun started to sink down below the horizon.
One car ride and then I'm home. This time I got to sit in the front seat of his car instead of being thrown in the back like a doll. I secured my seatbelt and then just slumped against the car door. All I could really do was pay attention to the passing cars outside and the quiet buzz of the radio.
I also noticed the pleasing smell of his cologne that filled the car or how he hummed along to the Taylor Swift song on the radio. Someone like him is a swiftie?
"I'm sorry that I kidnapped you." Adrian broke the silence between us in an attempt to apologize. I ignored it and kept looking out the window. It was a long day and I genuinely couldn't tell if he was being sincere or was just trying to make me feel like he cared. "Please talk to me. I know I fucked up." I glanced over at him; his eyes flickered between the road and me. "Hey." He reached for my hand and flinched away with wide eyes and a quickened heartbeat.
His eyes lit up in sorrow. He looked like he felt bad. He backed off and for the rest of the car ride, he didn't talk anymore. There was so much tension in that car I felt like I was going to suffocate. I could barely look at him. I was still scared of his guts.
Every turn and stop made me think over and over about the events that occurred today. It was nauseating.
Finally walking through the door of my apartment left me with this feeling I couldn't describe. All of the events that happened today were fucking unbelievable.
The book I was planning to read was on my bed and was quickly tossed on my side table with a small thud. I sprawled out on my bed not bothering to do anything else tonight.
What. The. Fuck.
-
It's my first day on the job and my teammate already hit someone with a car. A van actually. I got to the disguised video store a bit after seven and Murn described the plan to me. Since I wasn't significant to the plan I just stayed in the car with a first-aid kit just in case things went south. And oh they did.
"Is he dead!?" I stood in the van looking at Economos dumbfounded. He didn't reply at first he was just making shocked quivering noises.
"I... I don't know?" My eyes widened as he started to get out of the car holding a crowbar tightly in his hands. I left the kit on the seats (since I had been fidgeting with the latches the whole ride) and followed him for support or something like that. Maybe I thought I could help. He inspected inside the car which he had hit fully force.
Judomaster was crawling on the ground in front of the car slowly. Economos inched closer and closer to him holding the crowbar. He whacked him once over the head and jolted backward then his body went limp. We waited and sure enough, he kept crawling. He hit him again and he still was moving. I slapped a hand over my mouth as he repeatedly hit him on the back of the head. He poked him a few times like you would a bug making sure he wasn't moving.
"Oh my god." He let out. "Fuck yeah!" He turned around to high-five me. I lightly returned it. "Don't worry he's not dead." He said sensing my shock. "They're hardcore it takes a lot."
"Well, what do we do with him now?" I looked at Economos for ideas. We ended up tying him up and throwing him in the back of the van. I watched him intensely. When would this dude wake up? I really hope not any time soon. Murn radioed us and let us know that they would be coming back soon with of course Vigilante. Economos drove us back to the spot we were supposed to be in and awaited their arrival.
"You're pretty cool." I complimented him. He was taken aback by the positive words.
"Well thank you." He adjusted his glasses with a bright smile.
We waited for 15 minutes until they finally arrived and loaded themselves into the van. Everyone looked untouched besides Harcourt's messy hair, a couple cuts on Peacemaker's face and Vigilante crying about his bleeding toe. I grabbed the medical kit I had set down on the seats just minutes before and rushed to Adrian's side.
I motioned for him to move his foot up to where I needed it. He hesitated for a moment but then proceeded to lift his foot into my lap. I scoped out his injured toe and I pulled out the needed materials.
Yikes. I was definitely glad that I stayed in the van. Adrian’s foot jerked in my lap as I tried to get some alcohol.
"Hold still!" I complained to Adrian trying to hold his leg down from wriggling under my grasp. From the looks of it, this man had managed to get half of his pinky toe cut off. That is such a bizarre thing for torture.
“It hurts so bad though!” He wined when I took the alcohol to his foot. He had obviously had worse happen to him but this?
“It could have been worse,” I said. My hold got tighter on his leg since it kept jolting side to side.
“Pft yeah, this was nothing!” He lied as if he hadn’t been complaining two seconds ago. “I’ve gone through worse in DND.” A small smile appeared on my cheeks. DND huh? Who knew the big strong Vigilante was a total nerd? And a swiftie...
“One of my characters got their arm bitten off by a bear so I’d say you’re okay,” I said. His eyes lit up at the mention that I had played before." Just sit still it's about to get worse." His eyes clenched shut.
"Oh shit!" He screamed out making everyone irritated in the van. I shushed him gently with a soft hand on his leg. He shut up very quickly but his body still tensed occasionally with every sting. I held his foot carefully as I bandaged it up thoroughly.
"Are you hurt anywhere else?" I asked. I still didn't dare to look him in the eye.
"Yeah, but I can wait until we get back." He tried to act tough but I could hear the pain in his voice. I noticed a couple of holes in his shirt. Maybe I could fix his shirt while I'm at it. God am I being too nice?
I mean I'm trying to think of the bright side of what happened yesterday and honestly, it didn't seem so bad anymore. He saved my ass and I'm having a paying job. I can only imagine the pay is fantastic for what these people have me doing. I sat next to Adrian. I was feeling a little less scared of him now when I thought about him like that. Even through the visor, his eyes were peeled onto me. It felt like since I got here they never left.
Getting back to headquarters I couldn't get Adrian to get out of the van without making a scene. I dragged him quickly into the store so he wouldn't draw any attention from people lurking around In the streets. I pulled him by his hand and made him sit in the closest chair I could spot. He whined and moaned obnoxiously loud. I knew the stories and new articles about the man. He was tough and put up a big fight, he never lost against criminals.
I grabbed the larger bandages from an area Harcourt showed me just this morning and also some more alcohol.
"Show me where you're hurt." I looked at him curious about what else had happened to him. He pulled off his chest plate and revealed the deep stab wound in his shoulder. The fabric of his shirt clearly revealed the bloody mess it left. My eyes widen. "You kept this from me until now?"
"I could handle this. The toe I'm not entirely sure." I cleaned and bandaged the wound with intense concentration. I was careful and sure not to cause any more harm after this long night. "Thank you." He said softly. I just nodded and didn't reply with anything else.
-
The days passed as we worked on this project and the days were long and there was a lot of work to do. I didn't have almost any free time anymore so it was hard to make time for friends I actually wanted to talk to or things I really wanted to do. Adrian continued to try his hardest to earn my trust and befriend me.
I started to warm up to him crazy enough. He did little things for me I thought were sweet. Sometimes he brought me breakfast or he would try to learn about things I liked so he could talk about them with me. I started to trust him more and more as the mission proceeded because he was really good company. He would talk and I would listen.
A couple of days after the whole 'Adrian getting his pinky toe almost cut off' situation he got himself arrested. I didn't even know until Harcourt talked to me about it and what Adebayo said to him. I felt bad for him because as much as I thought I disliked him, I hated to hear he was where he was and how Adebayo literally manipulated him into doing it.
The night he got out he showed up at my apartment because he still needed to check up on me and since he hadn't been able to. For the first time, I felt comfortable enough to hug him. So I did, I wrapped my arms gently around his torso and gave a small squeeze. We stood like that for a minute before he quietly wished me a 'goodnight' without any further words. That was the kindest moment we had ever shared with one another
Then the next day we had another mission. Since all this time has passed, I had been informed on what a Butterfly fully was. At first, it was entirely confusing until I realized these were tiny alien butterflies here to kill us. I know it sounds like something straight out of a sci-fi movie.
I had to sit through a whole meeting in the morning next to Adrian where he (the whole time) joked with me. It felt sorta nice honestly. He never stopped being friendly and I just kind of started to accept it more.
And the whole mission went by quickly.
"Oh my god." I blurted when everyone arrived back in the truck. Peacemaker and Economos were fully drenched head to toe in blood, Harcourt had a good amount on her, and Adebayo and Adrian had little to none on them.
"We fought a fucking gorilla!" Adebayo exploded with astonishment. Jesus, sometimes I wish I didn't sit in the car the whole time.
"Economos is the fucking man." Peacemaker clapped him on the back with a proud grin. I did miss a lot if those two are now getting along.
"All the blood is the gorillas right?" I asked startled for a second considering the amount.
"Yeah we're all fine," Harcourt said tiredly.
"At least no one's arm got bitten off, like your DND character right?" Adrian nudged me in the side and sat down next to me. Sure I had only told him a few days ago about that but it still made me happy that he had remembered that tiny detail.
"Right." I smiled. Chris sat in the front and started playing music like he had at the beginning of the ride. I sang along with the rest of my team members to 11th Street Kids and I actually started to enjoy my work a little more.
I looked over at Adrian who was dancing like a dork. He looked so adorable? He was playing air drums and making up random dances as he went. I don't know why but I started to not hate him anymore. I started seeing this more personal side of him. Not Vigilante but Adrian.
"C'mon dance," Adrian whispered in my ear and nudged me again. I started to sway along with the group.
Later that night Harcourt made a group chat with all of us and sent a photo she had taken in the van. I set the book down I had finally got to reading beside me on my bed and picked up my phone.
Everyone was dancing in the van but on the right side, you could see me looking at Adrian with the sweetest smile on my face. The chat is filled with different emojis. The only number I had was Harcourts but from the merman emoji, I already knew it was Adrian. I liked his message and sent a fitting emoji to match the others.
I set my phone down and continued reading with a big smile. I never seemed to stop today.
-
It was the final day of the project and I wasn’t allowed to go. I wasn’t entirely complaining since this job was so bizarre but I was also disappointed. I mean all this build up and I don’t even get to go. They said it would be safer for me and of course, I understood.
But as the night carried on and the morning came through I was nervous. I had no texts or word from anyone. Sure, they still could be busy and have to do some other stuff before texting me but what if?
I heard a rushed-sounding knock on my door which threw me off. I ran to my door since the person decided to not stop knocking.
"What do you want?" I hissed as I threw open the door but I was only met with Adrian. My eyes soften upon seeing him. Oh, thank god he’s alive. "Adrian. Hi." I paused when noticing he was in a pair of shorts and a nursing gown. "Come inside." I ushered him in with wide eyes and closed the door quickly behind him. "What are you doing here?"
"Listen I jumped out of a hospital building to be her so-"
"Adrian!" I scolded him for being careless. I had started to really enjoy him I didn't need him being so careless all the time.
"Shut up. Sorry, but I need to tell you this." I stared at him silently with folded arms awaiting what he was about to tell me. "Okay, so after almost dying, I know what you're about to say please just wait. After almost dying, I realized had more feelings for you than I have ever had for someone and that's like a lot for me." He stepped closer to me. "I had to tell you those feelings just in case I actually died sometime. But now I'm scared if you reject me because of the whole kidnapping thing when we first met and usually I would be okay with rejection but I don't feel usual with you." He rambled and his hands made several confusing gestures along the way.
Everything about him told me he was being truthful. His hands were trembling with nervousness, He literally came from a hospital to tell me this and he just had that look on his face.
The feelings from the other day came rushing back. I really enjoyed being with genuine Adrian. The time we spent together over the course of this project was enjoyable. I noticed small things about him like the way he always made sure to keep an eye on me and was careful not to get me into anything super dangerous. He had become almost like a personal guard.
He even taught me how to use weapons, and also never overstepped my boundaries. So yeah maybe I developed a crush on my kidnapper co-worker.
"Why are you looking at me like that I'm like really nervous right now." He asked.
"Because I feel the same way. Even though you did totally kidnap and traumatize me." I nudged him smiling but he didn't return it. "Adrian I was playing with you. But I really do feel the same way." He let out a long breath. I was quite sure he had stopped breathing for a little while.
"Oh thank god." Adrian stepped closer and picked me up in his arms as he kissed me deeply. I've kissed a couple of times in the past but never did it feel as amazing as this. I held him close to me as if he would slip away again. He pulled away to look closely at my face.
"Just because you kissed me doesn't mean I won't scold you for almost dying." I glared at him but he just smiled kindly and kissed me again.
"If I keep. Kissing you then. I won't. Get yelled at." He said in between kisses making me start to laugh.
“Don’t scare me like that again Chase.” I shook my head kissing him passionately once more. I could get used to this feeling.
97 notes · View notes