#(this chapter has been planned for a while)
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Been wanting to do some updated character model sheet thingies for my ongoing longfic The Avatar and the Fire Prince, so here they are! :) Up until now I'd only drawn Zuko and Aang, but I thought it was about time I added Iroh and the Water Tribe siblings to the lineup as well. Right now all I've done this for is Books 1 & 2, but I really want to get started on the Books 3 & 4 versions so I can add Toph and Suki (and possibly Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee) to the lineup!
As usual, for anyone who has not read my fic but is curious about the premise: this is an AU in which Zuko and Iroh discover Aang in the iceberg just 3 months after Zuko is burned and banished at age 13 in 96 AG, 4 years prior to the return of Sozin's Comet. It is also an enemies to best friends to lovers slowburn in which Zukaang is endgame (since Aang was released from the iceberg 3 years early in this AU, he is only one year younger than Zuko). This fic is heavily based in canon, so I try my hardest to ensure that everything is canon-compliant at least when it comes to lore and character behavior despite the different circumstances.
Book 1: Air's premise: after finding and capturing Aang, Zuko and Iroh are forced to escape with him on Appa when Zhao interferes with their plans to return to the Fire Nation. This Book focuses on Aang desperately searching the Air Temples for any remnants of his people he can find, dragging Zuko and Iroh along in the process. Eventually, Zuko starts to question everything he was raised to believe, while Iroh is forced to face the mistakes of his past.
Book 2: Water begins with Aang, Zuko, and Iroh traveling to the South Pole after Aang starts to have recurring nightmares about an impending attack on Wolf Cove (Sokka and Katara's village), and eventually follows my adaptations of several storylines from canon Book 1 before ending with the Siege of the North in Agna Qel'a. During this Book, Zuko begins to realize his feelings for Aang are more than friendship, while Aang remains oblivious (lol).
Book 3: Earth is the Book I am currently working on (the most recent chapter was my adaptation of "Avatar Day") and so far follows Aang, Zuko, Iroh, Katara, and Sokka as they search for an earthbending teacher for Aang - so far, it has followed the general canon plot of Book 2, though of course, as always, there are differences due to this being an AU. No spoilers, but I have some really interesting things planned for this Book, particularly as we get closer to the Ba Sing Se arc. I also have a lot of fun stuff planned for the Zukaang romance in this Book.
Book 4: Fire will be the last Book of the fic, and will of course revolve around the Gaang in the Fire Nation. This is all I will say for now since I don't want to spoil the plans I have for the previous Book (which will heavily influence what happens in Book 4, obv).
When I finally finish this fic (I'm about halfway through at 33/65 chapters), I plan to start writing a direct sequel that adapts the events of the comics, as well as a Korrasami-focused Legend of Korra rewrite fic that is set in the same AU as TAatFP.
#my art#my fic#atla#atla au#avatar the last airbender#avatar the last airbender au#the gaang#atla fan art#aang#zuko#sokka#katara#iroh#zukaang#zukaang au#zukaang fanfic#zuko x aang#aang x zuko#enemies to friends to lovers
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⊱ You Can Do Better Than Me ⊰ || Boothill X Reader
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Character(s): Boothill (Honkai: Star Rail)
Reader Type: Human, Not the Trailblazer (Gender-Neutral Pronouns)
Warning(s): Break-up (Miscommunication/Assumptions… Not Permanent), Negative Body Image/Self-talk (Regarding Boothill), Use of Petnames (Boothill calls Reader “darlin’” and “sweets” and Reader calls Boothill “honey” and “love”), Slightly Suggestive Ending.
Genre: Drabble, Angst, Fluff (Hurt/Comfort), Pre-Established Romantic Relationship
Word Count: ~2500 words
Prompt: “What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?”
Author’s Note: Hello everyone, I come back to you briefly with a random Boothill drabble because this cowboy has been on my brain for the past three months and I needed to get something written for him ASAP. I actually got both him and his lightcone on release day, so I’m still hyped about that (didn’t even need to break my F2P status either hehehe 😎). I will get around to writing a multi-chapter fic for him as soon as my summer semester is over and all of the current requests in the ask box have been answered. I’ve been managing the workload relatively well so far, but it’s genuinely been so overwhelming in terms of content/information that my brain can barely form coherent sentences after class and work. 😭 Anyways, have some self-conscious Boothill and my beloved hurt/comfort. Maybe instead of saving the horse, we should save the cowboy. Also… let me know if anyone is interested in a part two, and I’ll be happy to write it. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Tag-List: @anonima-2 – I know you wanted me to tag you if I got around to writing a Boothill X Reader fic, so here it is! It may not be a multi-chapter one, but I hope you enjoy this little drabble.
→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated! ♡
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You had known Boothill for quite some time now. You had crossed paths with the elusive Galaxy Ranger throughout the years, so many times that you eventually lost count. Three times was uncommon, five times was rare, but over twenty times? That was absolutely unheard of given the vast expanse of space. It got to the point where you both noticed how frequently you would meet, the two of you making jokes that the universe was pushing you together.
Boothill had thought for a while you were sent to capture and/or kill him by the IPC but, after a particularly intense “discussion” (where he proceeded to hold you at gunpoint, as he frequently did with most people), you were able to confirm that all of the times you two had met were indeed just an exceedingly rare coincidence. It was something you would occasionally bring up to tease him about nowadays, poking fun at the fact he had literally held his future partner at gunpoint. It was a memorable event to reminisce on when asked by others ‘how did you two meet?’.
Years had passed since that unforgettable interaction, and both you and Boothill were happy and content in your current relationship. All of that time together with him had given you insight into how the cowboy typically behaved. He could be brash and rush into trouble head-first, but he was also immensely intelligent and could think of a plan on the fly to get himself out of even the stickiest situations. He was the type of person who frequently spoke his mind, not allowing his tampered-with Synesthesia Beacon to completely censor what he wanted to say… which is why you were as worried as you were lately.
Your boyfriend hadn’t been as talkative as he usually was. He had returned from a three-month-long trek around the galaxy a few days ago, and he had been distant ever since he came back. His replies had been clipped, and he had a strange look in his eye whenever he glanced your way; he hadn’t even looked at you for more than a few seconds since his return.
Tentatively, you made your way over to where he was sitting by an open window in your home, the breeze gently blowing the strands of his black-and-white hair to and fro. You stepped closer to stand next to him as you asked, voice tender as you spoke, “Boothill, honey, what’s wrong? You’ve been more reserved than usual these past few days, and I just want to check to see if you’re ok–…”
Then, he spoke, his voice firm as he cut off the rest of what you were going to say, “…I wanna break up.”
Your heart dropped into your stomach at his words, and you felt your palms begin to clam up with sweat as you whispered, “W… What?” You swallowed harshly, stepping closer to him as you asked, double-checking to see if you had heard him correctly, “What did you just say?”
“I said I wanna break up.” He says once more, voice rough as he turns his head ever-so-slightly to watch you from his peripheral. It felt like the world had stopped moving when he confirmed what you had always hoped you would never have to hear, and you feel your eyes begin to water. He finally, after so many days, looks at you directly after what has felt like eons. Whatever expression was on your face caused him to flinch before he looked away once more, staring at his hat on the nearby table.
Boothill sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he continues to speak, his voice gentler than usual as he tells you, “I don’t think this,” He pauses, taking his hand and gesturing toward himself before finishing his thought, “…is good fer you.”
Your emotions were fluctuating so quickly that your mind didn’t know what to do with all of them. First, you were worried about your boyfriend, then you were heartbroken when he said he wanted you two to go your separate ways, and now? Now you were angry, a sudden burst of frustration filling your veins at his reasoning behind wanting to end your relationship. Your heart aches as you exclaim, trying not to pay attention to the wetness forming along your lashes, “Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?”
Boothill is back to refusing to look at you, so you try to move into his line of sight as you ask, your hands flailing about as you speak in a desperation-laced tone, “What, exactly, isn’t ‘good for me’ Boothill?”
He turns his head to look at you, standing up from where he had been sitting as he holds his hands out, trying to placate you as he says hastily, “Listen don’t – don’t get the wrong idea, alright?”
“How can I not get the wrong idea when you suddenly tell me you want to end our relationship!?” You yell back, feeling the tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. You were angry, sure, but the soul-crushing feeling of separating from the man you loved so deeply pierced your heart like a knife. Your frustration quickly began to be tainted with sorrow, your voice coming out softly as you ask him, your mind desperate for some kind of answer as you place a hand on your chest, “Did I… Did I do something for you to come to this decision?”
Panic floods his expression immediately as he reaches out, his hands resting on your shoulders as he leans down to look at your face. He quickly tells you, one of his hands coming up to gently cup your cheek as his thumb brushes away your tears, “No, no, no, no – you didn’t do anythin’, darlin’. You’ve been perfect in every way, I just…”
He pauses, gaze traveling to the ground as he thinks of what to say. His cold, metallic fingers against your skin are comforting to you in a way you couldn’t describe – comforting in a way no one else would be able to understand. Boothill’s eyes meet with yours once more as he continues speaking with a bittersweet smile, “You could do so much better than me, sweets. I don’t want to hold you back.”
The anger you had felt was suddenly back in full force as you asked him, brows furrowed as you questioned, “How?”
Your hands come up to hold onto his, the one that was still lovingly cupping your face as you ask, leaning forward toward him as you speak, “How could I do better than you? What are you holding me back from?”
Boothill shakes his head, saying with a frown, “There’s so many things I can’t give you… I can’t give ya a peaceful life, I can’t give ya a family…” His voice cracks slightly at the word, but he continues to speak as he begins to pull his hand away from your face, “You deserve someone who’s around more often – someone who can be there for ya whenever you need ‘em.”
Boothill chuckles bitterly, removing his hand from your grasp as walks over to grab his hat off of the nearby table, and you’ve never felt so cold and empty in your entire life. You watch helplessly as he places the hat on his head, staring as he begins to make his way toward the front door as he tells you, “You deserve someone who doesn’t cause you to jump every time their freezin’ cold hands touch ya – someone who can actually feel ya.”
You step toward him, reaching out to take his hand in yours and effectively stopping him in his tracks as you say firmly, “Boothill, shut the fuck up. Aren’t you going to at least ask me what I think about this?”
Boothill sighs, turning back around to look at you as he speaks. He doesn’t do anything to remove his hand from your grasp, instead gently squeezing it in a comforting manner as he tells you, “Listen, sweets, I just think it’s for the better that–…”
“No, it’s not.” You say, your voice strong despite the tears that had begun to flow down your face. You look up at him, bringing his hand to place on your chest as you tightly hold it over your heart, telling him firmly and genuinely despite the way your voice cracks, “I don’t care if you can’t give me those things. When did I even say that’s what I wanted in life?”
“Why wouldn’t you want that?” Boothill asks, looking down at you as if you had grown a second head, as if everything he said he couldn’t give you was something that everyone would want. He looks conflicted as he tells you, trying to take his hand back as he steps away from you and closer to the front door, “You deserve to be happy – you deserve to have someone who’s there for you.”
“What if all I want is you, huh?” You tell him, refusing to let go of his hand – refusing to let him leave your life in such a way. Your hold on Boothill’s hand was tight because you knew, deep down, if you let his hand slide out of yours, you’d never see him again. You look up at him as you speak, a spark of determination in your eyes which causes Boothill’s cheeks to flush a light shade of blue, “No one else can give me you. You’re the one that makes me happy – not some dream life, not some perfect family – just you.”
“You don’t want me, darlin’ – I promise, once I’m gone, you’ll move on an’ another lucky fella will have the honor of being able to love ya.” Boothill tells you with furrowed brows and a smile, his sharp teeth peeking out from behind his lips as he tries to convince you he’s not what you want. You could feel your eyebrow twitch in frustration at his words, your tears slowing down as you refute his claim.
“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” You ask him, a tinge of hurt and frustration mixed in your voice as you reach out to firmly hold both of his hands in your own. Boothill allows you to do so with no fanfare, a conflicted expression on his face; his fingers twitch in your hold. He watches as you close your eyes and take a deep breath, hesitating for a moment before once again looking at him as you whisper, “Listen, if you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you or hold you back, but…” You pause, smiling warmly at him before continuing, “but I want you. I want to be with you, not this hypothetical ‘fella’ you’ve envisioned who would give me a perfect life.”
Before Boothill could open his mouth to try and argue again, you quickly add on as you bring one of his hands to your lips, pressing a light kiss to his digits as you tell him, “I don’t care that you’re cold to the touch – I don’t care that we won’t have a picture-perfect life together…” You feel the tears beginning to form on your lashes again as you run your thumbs along his knuckles, telling him sincerely, “I’ve never imagined a future without you in it, love.”
Boothill looks down at you, his expression a clash between his adoration for you and the heaviness of the situation. He shakes his head, bringing one of your hands to his lips as he presses a kiss to the back of it as he tells you, voice uncharacteristically quiet as he admits, “I… I don’t want to leave, sweets. I just…” He hesitates as he makes eye contact with you, raising a brow as he once again gestures to himself as he asks, “Are you sure this is what ya want?”
“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life,” You tell him, letting go of his hands as you instead wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you as your bodies press against one another. His arms wrap around your waist on instinct, pulling you close to him as you press your foreheads together. You stare into his eyes and bring a hand to his cheek, placing your palm against his face as you run your thumb along the skin under his eye. He leans into your touch, turning his head to kiss your palm as you tell him with a smile, “Rain or shine, good or bad… I want to be beside you throughout it all.”
“Heh, well… I’m glad I get to be by yer side.” Boothill says, opening his eyes once more to look at you. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your temple as he whispers, almost as if he didn’t want the world to hear him – to keep this tender moment a secret between the two of you, “…Thank you for choosin’ me out of the rest of the blokes in the galaxy, darlin’. I’m a real lucky guy to have someone as wonderful as you.”
“I’d choose you in every universe, Boothill. That’s a promise.” You reply with a smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, almost as if you were teasing him.
He smirks at both your words and your actions, saying with a raised brow as he leans back, tilting his hat up with one finger as he speaks, “That’s quite a big promise there, darlin’. Sure you can keep it?”
“Oh, I’m sure.” You reply, matching his expression as you huff, “Don’t doubt me, cowboy.”
“I won’t, I won’t…” Boothill says with a chuckle. He pauses, his smile faltering slightly as he looks down at you. Your eyes were still slightly red, and the stains your tears had left on your cheeks were still present. He pulls you closer to him, nuzzling his face into your neck as he takes a deep breath in, muttering against your skin, “Aeons, I love ya… I love ya so fudgin’ much.”
“I love you, too, honey.” You reply softly, running your hand up and down his back when an idea pops into your mind. It was a mischievous one, and the mere thought of it causes a smirk to grow on your lips. You reach up and grab the hat from his head as you instead place it on yours, asking him flirtatiously, “Why don’t I show you just how much I love you?”
“Well… I certainly like the sound of that.” Boothill replies lowly, his eyes half-lidded as he gently caresses your face, smirking at his hat now resting atop your head. He leans down and kisses you, whispering against your lips in a sultry tone, “Plus, I’d like to apologize for makin’ you cry… Can I, darlin’?”
The tone of his voice was enough to make your heart start beating faster, and you could feel your cheeks begin to warm as you replied quickly with a simple, “Please do.”
#🌸 . Plum Writes#honkai star rail#star rail#hsr#honkai star rail x reader#star rail x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x you#star rail x you#hsr x you#boothill hsr#boothill#boothill x reader#boothill x you#honkai star rail imagines#hsr imagines#honkai star rail drabbles#hsr drabbles#boothill imagines#boothill fluff#boothill angst
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CRAZY RICH ASIANS..! G. SATORU X READER
𝜗𝜚 | CHAPTER THREE : just..friends!
NEXT… CHAPTER FOUR : tutoring.
gojo was reclined on his couch, legs sprawled out everywhere. the comfort of his own home at 17 was a luxury not anybody could afford. yet, it was gifted to him by his grandma on his 16th birthday. a 32 acre estate mansion designed by switzerland’s best architect. a blend of traditional japanese and a mix of modern luxury. despite the mansion being large enough to home a village, it was only filled with servants, gojo and silence.
which is why his father thought it was a great idea to have him take on a responsibility, a quite immense responsibility.
“who the hell are you?”
gojo glances up from his phone and looks for what voice peeped from the entrance of the lounge room. the large dark oak doors were fully opened yet from his peripheral vision, there was no one there. that was until he looked down at a young boy.
his jet black hair, fair skin and green eyes stood out from any other kid has ever laid his eyes on. a shiver runs down gojo’s spine and goosebumps slowly form on his forearms as he continues to stare at the young boy.
“satoru,” his father’s voice echoed from the hallway, slowly becoming more apparent as he got closer. “this is megumi fushiguro, he will be staying with you from now on.”
the young white haired male’s jaw drops to the very floor as he repeated the last name out loud, “..fushiguro?” he glances at the boy then back at his father before raising an eyebrow, “and why is that?” there was no curiosity in his tone, just genuine concern.
his father opens his mouth to respond before shutting it as megumi turns around to face him, seeming to have the exact same question. why is he staying with 17 year old gojo satoru?
“his father has..business to take care of. it required him to leave for a certain period of time so i’ve agreed to take him in.”
the explanation was typical; vague and left no room for any further questions. gojo knew better than to further poke the sleeping bear and just nod in agreement. but even though he answered gojo’s question, his eyes told a different answer. there was no doubt the boy’s father got into some trouble and was taken out for good.
gojo shrugged the lingering thoughts away before making his way to megumi. he knelt down to megumi’s height, to come off as less intimidating, and patted his head. “megumi, right? i’m satoru, looks like we’re gonna be roommates for a while.”
“i am not sharing a room with you.” megumi spat out while clutching onto a small dog plushie. even if he tried to come off as fearless, gojo couldn’t help but notice the way he was violently shaking.
he chuckles at megumi before pulling him into a tight and unwarranted hug. “sure man, whatever you say goes.”
the busy streets of tokyo were alive every night, capturing the life of the city and its residents. honking horns, distant chatter, and the same rhythmic footsteps of busy people wanting to get from point A to point B. gojo suggested the two shopping the day after the party, which clearly irritated megumi.
“do we really have to go shopping during rush hour?” megumi grumbled and shoving his hands into his pockets. “i have better things to do.”
satoru only chuckled at the angsty teen’s behavior. he watched megumi grow from a know it all toddler to a slumped moody teenager. “oh come on megumi! i’ve been meaning to buy you something nice. besides, it’s not like you actually have friends to hang out with.”
megumi shoots him a glare, “i do have friends, and i could have plans that only involved myself.”
“like what? brooding in your room all day?” gojo teased, ruffling megumi’s hair before he slapped his hand away.
as they entered a high end luxury store, gojo’s attention was immediately caught by a limited edition pair of sneakers. he nudged megumi towards the display before picking it up and carefully inspecting it. “what do you think megumi? these would look great on you!”
megumi barely glances at the shoe before mumbling a response, “they’re fine i guess. can we get them and go home now?” irritation was written all over the poor boy’s face.
gojo was able to immediately pick up the teen’s attitude towards him. he rolled his eyes at the moody behavior, “you’re in a mood today. something bothering you?”
“i don’t know… maybe it's the fact you're texting my teacher and asking her out for dinner again!” he whispered-yelled in the middle of the store.
gojo clicks his tongue. “ah, so that’s what this is about huh?” he said with a stupid smile plastered on his face, “well i happen to think miss. l/n is a lovely person to be around. she’s humble, intelligent and she seems to talk to me like a normal person. she’d be a wonderful friend!”
megumi scoffs and crosses his arms across his chest, “you’re not fooling anyone, you know there’s more to it!”
gojo leaned slightly towards megumi with a slight mischievous look in his eyes, “it’s refreshing to talk to someone who isn’t obsessed with the whole gojo clan nonsense. she’s not stiff and never talks about business.” he leans further into megumi’s personal space, “but you seem to be real caught up on this. are you jealous..?!”
megumi’s face flushed in a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. “i am not jealous! i just don’t think it’s appropriate for you to make plans with my teacher. it’s weird..” he mumbled the last sentence.
gojo raises his hand to scratch his chin and pretends he’s in deep thought. “hm, well if it makes you that uncomfortable then i suppose i have no choice but to cut contact.”
“r-really?! you’ve decided that quick?”
“of course,” gojo said, ruffling his hair once again. “you’re more important to me than making a new friend.”
a small pang of guilt hit megumi’s chest, and his expression softened. “i mean, you don’t have to stop being her friend. just..stop trying to invite her to private dinners.”
“deal!” gojo says with a wide grin, “now, let’s go find some shoes you’ll actually like.” despite megumi’s outburst, he knew he cared for him in his own way. no matter how many times gojo has been a victim of megumi’s prickly demeanor, he would still let him have his way.
the duo exits out the store, with gojo swinging multiple bags over his back, into the bustling streets. the both continued to have a quiet conversation about tonight’s dinner options. just as they turned the corner, a small figure collided with him, again.
“ah, miss. l/n!” gojo exclaimed, caught completely off guard. standing before them was today’s topic of discussion dressed casually with a few bags in her hand.
“megumi, mr.gojo! what a lovely surprise to see you two here.” you smiled.
gojo cleared his throat, trying to regain any composure he had left “y-yes, quite a surprise indeed! we were, uh, out shopping for new shoes for megumi.” he tried to reach over to pat megumi’s shoulder, with his eyes on remaining on you, and ends up patting his face.
you glance at the multiple bags being held by gojo, “seems like you guys found something nice.”
“yeah thanks to this idiot.” megumi muttered before swaying gojo’s hand out his face, “he insisted i get new shoes.”
“well, it was nice seeing you both.” you replied. “i’m actually on my way to a movie. i’ve been meaning to watch the new action movie that recently came out.”
gojo’s eyes light up at the mention of the film, “oh really?! we were just about to grab something to eat but a movie sounds even better! right megumi?” he glances back at the teenager who seemed to be absolutely mortified by the sudden turn of events.
“uh, sure but we really shouldn’t intrude-”
“don't be ridiculous!” gojo chuckled before turning to you, “we’d love to join you if that’s okay with you miss. l/n. tickets and snacks on me!”
you laughed softly at the man’s eagerness, “i don’t mind at all, some company would be nice.”
megumi gave gojo a “what are you doing?!” look but he was too infatuated with you to even notice.
as they made their way to the theaters, gojo makes an attempt to make conversation to fill in the comfortable silence. but his nerves seem to hate him.
“s-so, miss. l/n.” gojo’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat before attempting again. “i hear that the, uh, curriculum changed throughout the year. i-is it difficult for you? but i mean i wouldn't be surprised if not since someone like you is capable of handling it well..”
you smiled kindly despite being confused at his sudden awkwardness, “it’s just an adjustment. i’m fine as long as the students are.”
megumi sighed before yanking gojo aside and whispering, “ please stop, you’re embarrassing yourself. can we just-”
“relax megumi, i’m just trying to make conversation.” gojo said while nervously chuckling.
when they reached the ticket counter, gojo confidently stepped in front of both of them. “three adult tickets please, i’ll be paying.”
the young cashier smiled, “sure thing. i’ll be sure to add on tonight's family discount.” she prints out the tickets and hands them over to gojo. “enjoy the movie and your family night out!”
both megumi and gojo froze, processing her words while you chuckled at the misunderstanding.
“we’re not-” megumi started but was quickly cut off.
“thank you and we will!” gojo said before snatching megumi by his collar.
as they entered the theater, megumi gave gojo a stern look before muttering “did you seriously go along with that?!”
gojo only laughed at megumi’s response to the situation. “why not? it’s kind of nice to be seen as a family, don’t you think?” he turned to you, waiting for your approval.
your eyes softened towards megumi, “the two of you certainly give off the dynamic of a family. it’s cute to see.”
the theater’s lights start to dim and the chatter that was once there starts being hushed. gojo, being sat in between megumi and you, couldn’t help but keep up his playful demeanor. whenever a dramatized scene came on, he would whisper in your ear witty but funny remarks on it. all megumi heard were giggles coming from his teacher, and being caused by his mentor.
it was annoying enough to see gojo play his classic playboy persona in front of his teacher. that was what he thought until he further inspected him. despite the horrible lighting, he noticed the subtle signs of nervousness.like the way gojo would lightly tap his fingers on the shared armrest, how he would stumble over his words, or the way he constantly looked over at you as if he seeked approval.
no matter how much of a distraction the both of you were, he couldn’t help but find amusement in watching the two of you. it was a rare sight to see gojo, the overly confident playboy, be genuinely flustered. for once, he decided to let gojo’s antics slide.
once the credits rolled, megumi leaned into gojo’s ear. “you owe me for this.”
and before gojo could question what he meant by that, he sees him turn his attention onto you. “miss. l/n, i’m actually having trouble adjusting to the curriculum you mentioned earlier. would it be okay if you could tutor me at gojo’s house? he’ll pay you!”
and being the dedicated teacher you are, you respond with genuine concern in your tone. “of course! why didn’t you say anything sooner?!”
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ECHOES OF YESTERDAY | JAKE SIM CH.1
Synopsis: On her 21st birthday, Y/n wakes up overwhelmed by guilt and sorrow. It’s not just her birthday; it’s also the third anniversary of her high school boyfriend Jake’s tragic death. Surviving the accident that took Jake’s life, Y/n is haunted by memories of their love and the future they lost. In a moment of desperate longing, she makes a wish to see Jake again and is miraculously transported back in time to when Jake was alive. However, she finds that Jake now hates her, adding a new layer of pain and confusion. Determined to change his fate and earn his tolerance, she resolves to do everything in her power to ensure he escapes death this time
Reader: Jake x Reader
Author’s note: Hi! Hope everyone is having a good day/night 🫶. The first chapter is finally out! I hope you guys like it and I know it’s all over the place and yes, it’s intentional 😭.
MASTERLIST | PREV | NEXT
You woke up with your heart pounding in your chest. The room was still dark, the early morning light just beginning to seep through the curtains. You lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the familiar heaviness settle over you. Tomorrow was your birthday, but it was also the anniversary of the worst day of your life.
Three years had passed since the accident, but the pain was as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. You could still hear the screech of tires, the sickening thud, and the deafening silence that followed. Jake had been your world, your first love, and he had been taken from you in an instant.
As you sat up in bed, you felt the tears begin to flow, unchecked and relentless. Guilt gnawed at your insides, a constant reminder that you had survived while he had not. "Why him and not me?" You whispered into the void, your voice trembling with anguish. Every year, this day brought a renewed sense of loss and a crushing weight of survivor's guilt.
You reached for the locket around your neck, a gift from Jake on your 18th birthday. Inside was a picture of you and him, smiling and carefree, a stark contrast to the broken person you had become. You clutched it tightly, as if hoping to draw strength from the memory of his love.
The hours dragged on, each second a painful reminder of the life you had lost. You tried to distract yourself, to push the memories away, but they were relentless. Every corner of your room held a piece of your past, a reminder of the plans you had made and the future you would never share.
You made your way to the kitchen, your movements slow and deliberate. You poured yourself a cup of coffee, the mundane task offering little comfort. As you sat at the table, you stared at the empty chair across from you, imagining Jake sitting there, his infectious smile lighting up the room.
The guilt was suffocating. You had tried to move on, to live a life that honored his memory, but it was never enough. Every laugh felt like a betrayal, every moment of happiness tainted by the shadow of his absence. You had survived, but you weren’t really living.
The day stretched on, a blur of tears and memories. You decided to visit his grave, despite it being a harsh reminder of the finality of his loss. You stood in front of the mirror, trying to make yourself presentable despite the tears streaming down your face. You thought about how badly you needed comfort, and how there was no one who could provide that except Jake.
You fumbled with your hair, attempting to smooth it down, but your hands were shaking too much. You tried to dab at your eyes with a tissue, but the tears kept coming, making it impossible to hide the redness and puffiness. Frustration bubbled up inside you as you realized you couldn't make yourself look composed, no matter how hard you tried.
The cemetery was cloaked in the deep blues and purples of twilight. Each step feels like a struggle, your legs weighed down by the overwhelming grief that has settled in your chest. The wind whispers through the trees, carrying with it the faint scent of earth and flowers, a bittersweet reminder of life and death intertwined.
You stood alone, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs as you clutch a small bouquet of Jake's favorite flowers, your fingers trembling as you approach the familiar headstone. The sight of his name etched into the cold, unyielding marble is a cruel confirmation of the reality you wish you could escape. You fall to your knees, the flowers slipping from your grasp and scattering across the grave.
"Jake," you whisper, your voice barely audible, choked with emotion. "Jake, I miss you so much." The words spill out, raw and unfiltered, as if speaking them aloud could somehow bridge the chasm between you.
Tears stream down your face, unchecked and relentless. You reach out, tracing the letters of his name with a trembling finger, your touch gentle and reverent. "Why did you have to leave me? Why did this happen to us?" Your voice cracks, breaking under the weight of your sorrow.
Memories flood your mind, each one a dagger to your already shattered heart. You remember his laughter, the way his eyes sparkled with mischief and love, the warmth of his embrace. The pain of his absence is unbearable, a gaping wound that refuses to heal.
“I can't do this without you," you cry, your voice rising in desperation. "I need you, Jake. I need you here with me." You cover your face with your hands, sobbing uncontrollably, your body shaking with the force of your grief. The world around you seems to blur, your vision clouded by tears and anguish.
As you sit there, broken and weeping, the reality of Jake's absence sinks deeper.
From a distance, Sunghoon watched you, his heart aching with every step he took. In his hands, he clutched a bouquet of sunflowers, their bright yellow petals a sharp contrast to the somber surroundings. They reminded him of Jake's infectious energy, his ability to light up even the darkest days.
Sunghoon approached quietly, not wanting to startle you. As he got closer, he saw you wipe away tears with the back of your hand, your breath coming in ragged gasps. He hesitated for a moment, then softly cleared his throat.
You turned around, your eyes red and puffy from crying. "Sunghoon," you whispered, your voice cracking.
“Hey," he said gently, holding out the sunflowers. "I thought these might brighten things up a bit. They reminded me of Jake."
You took the bouquet with trembling hands, a small, grateful smile breaking through your tears. "Thank you," you murmured. "He would have loved these."
Sunghoon nodded and took a seat next to you, the two of you sitting in a heavy silence for a few moments. Finally, he spoke, his voice filled with a mix of sorrow and fondness. "You know, Jake was always the one who could make us laugh, even when things were tough."
You nodded, your eyes fixed on the flowers. "Yeah, he had that gift."
"Remember the time he tried to start a YouTube channel with Jay?" Sunghoon continued, a small smile tugging at his lips. "He was so convinced they were going to be famous. 'The Jaykesters,' they called themselves."
You let out a choked laugh. "I remember. Jay couldn't even start the camera. He just stood there looking completely lost."
Sunghoon chuckled, the sound breaking through the tension that hung between them. "And Jake was so mad when we told him they sounded like a bunch of cats fighting. But he couldn't stay mad for long. He ended up laughing with us."
Your smile grew as you wiped away more tears. "He always had a genuine heart”
You stood in silence for a moment, the weight of your shared memories hanging in the air, but somehow, it felt a little lighter.
Sunghoon took a deep breath, looking up at the sky. "You know, Y/N, even though he's not here with us physically, Jake's spirit is still around. Every time we laugh at one of his old jokes or remember his crazy ideas, it's like he's here with us."
You nodded, clutching the sunflower tighter. "It's comforting to think of it that way. He wouldn't want us to be sad forever."
"Exactly," Sunghoon agreed. "He'd want us to keep living, to keep making new memories, and to keep each other strong."
You smiled through your tears. "You're right. And as long as we have each other, we'll keep his memory alive.”
Sunghoon put an arm around your shoulders, giving you a reassuring squeeze. "We'll get through this together, Y/N. One day at a time."
There was another silence, but not because it was awkward—though maybe it was for Sunghoon. He knew tomorrow was also your birthday, as the day of the accident the whole friend group was together before it happened. He wasn’t sure if he should say anything, but every time he felt scared or wanted to back out, he remembered Jake’s words: “Always look after Y/N.” Jake said this when they first started dating and continued to say it throughout their relationship. He knew he couldn’t always be there to protect you, so he wanted his friends, who in a way were also yours, to help him with that.
"Hey, Y/N," he said softly, trying to muster a smile. "I know tomorrow isn't easy, but I wanted to give you something."
You looked at him curiously as he reached into his big jacket. From the inside pocket, he carefully pulled out a small cupcake, its frosting slightly smudged from the journey.
"I know it's not much," Sunghoon said, holding it out to you. "But I thought we could still celebrate your birthday a little early, even if it's just a little bit."
Your eyes filled with tears again, but this time they were mixed with gratitude. You took the cupcake from him, your hands trembling slightly. "Thank you, Sunghoon. This means a lot to me."
He smiled, relieved that you appreciated the gesture. "I know it's not what you might have wanted, but I thought it might bring a bit of light to today."
You nodded, your voice choked with emotion. "It's perfect. Thank you for thinking of me."
They stood together once again in silence for a moment, the cupcake between them a small but significant symbol of their bond. Despite the sadness of the day, Sunghoon's gesture brought a touch of warmth and comfort to your heart.
You stumble through the front door of your home, your emotions a whirlwind of confusion and pain. Sunghoon's thoughtful gesture at the cemetery had touched you deeply, but it also made everything so much more complicated. It was clear that people cared for you, but the thought of celebrating your birthday without Jake, who would forever remain the same age, was unbearable.
You can't do it. You can't think of growing older while Jake is gone. The weight of it all presses down on you, suffocating you with its intensity. With trembling hands, you frame the cupcake wrapper as a reminder of Sunghoon's kindness, a small beacon of light in your dark world.
As you stare at the framed wrapper, memories of Jake flood your mind. The way he used to smile, the sound of his laughter, the warmth of his embrace. It's all too much. You sink to the floor, clutching the frame to your chest, your sobs echoing through the empty house.
"Why did you have to leave me, Jake?" you cry out, your voice breaking. "I don't know how to do this without you. I don't know how to live without you."
The silence of the house seems to mock you, amplifying your loneliness. You look at the framed wrapper again, your vision blurred by tears. "Sunghoon tried so hard to make today bearable," you whisper. "But it's just not enough. I can't do this, Jake. I can't."
With a sense of finality, you rise to your feet and make your way to the bathroom. Your hands shake as you open the medicine cabinet and take out the bottle of pills. You stare at it for a moment, the weight of your decision settling over you.
"I'm sorry, Sunghoon," you murmur. "But I just can't keep going."
You pour a handful of pills into your palm and swallow them all in one go, the bitter taste lingering in your mouth.
You sat on your bed, clutching a worn-out photo of Jake, your fingers tracing the edges of his smiling face. Tears streamed down your cheeks, each drop a painful reminder of the love you had lost. "I miss you so much, Jake," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Why did it have to be you?"
The weight of the past three years pressed heavily on your chest, suffocating you with the memory of the accident. The screeching tires, the shattering glass, and Jake's lifeless body haunted you every waking moment. You had survived, but at what cost? The guilt gnawed at your soul, leaving you hollow and broken.
As the clock struck midnight, marking your 21st birthday, you closed your eyes tightly, your heart aching with a desperate longing. "I just want to see you again, Jake. Please, just one more time," you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper.
As the darkness begins to close in, you feel a strange sense of peace. You close your eyes, your last thoughts filled with memories of Jake, hoping that soon, you will be with him again.
You find yourself surrounded by a blinding white light, so intense that you have to shield your eyes. As the light starts to fade, you notice familiar shapes and colors coming into focus. You realize you're standing in a place filled with memories—your old high school.
Suddenly, you see Jake, standing at the edge of the field, smiling at you just like he used to. The sight of him brings a rush of emotions, and memories flood your mind.
You remember the first time you met Jake in freshman year, the way he awkwardly introduced himself and offered you a seat next to him in class. You recall the countless hours spent studying together, sharing secrets, and laughing at inside jokes. You remember the way his eyes would light up whenever he talked about his dreams and ambitions.
"Hey, Y/N," Jake's voice echoes in your mind. "Do you remember our first day here? You were so nervous, but you still managed to ace every test."
You smile at the memory, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Yeah, I remember. You were the one who helped me calm down."
The scene shifts, and you're now reliving the time Jake asked you to the prom. He was so nervous, fumbling with his words and blushing furiously. "Y/N, would you... would you go to prom with me?" he had asked, his voice trembling.
You had said yes, of course, and the dance was magical. You remember the way Jake held you close, the soft music playing in the background, and the feeling that everything was perfect.
Just as you're lost in these memories, the white light returns, brighter than before. You blink, and suddenly, you find yourself sitting in your high school classroom, wearing your old uniform. The room is filled with students, and as you look around, you notice Jake sitting across the room, his eyes fixed on you.
He gives you a small, knowing smile, and you feel a sense of deja vu. "Y/N, are you okay?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.
You nod, trying to make sense of everything. "I... I think so. This feels so real."
Jake leans closer, his expression serious. "Y/N, sometimes the past can help us understand the present. Remember the good times and let them guide you."
You suddenly feel a jolt, as if being pulled back to reality. The white light around you dissolves, and you hear a loud, incessant beeping.
When you opened your eyes, you were no longer in your room. You found herself back in your high school hallway, surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of a time long past. Your heart pounded in your chest as you spotted him—Jake, alive and well. The sight of him brought a flood of emotions, a mix of joy and unbearable sorrow.
“Jake?" You called out, your voice trembling with hope and fear.
He turned to face you, but the look in his eyes was not one of love or recognition. It was a cold, distant stare that pierced your heart. "What do you want, Y/n?" he snapped, his voice dripping with bitterness.
Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt as if the ground had been ripped out from under you. This wasn't the Jake you remembered. This Jake despised you, and you had no idea why. The pain of his rejection was almost too much to bear, but you couldn't give up.
Determined to change his fate and win back his trust, you vowed to do whatever it took to make things right and ensure he escaped death this time.
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Izuku and Katsuki Hospital Comic - Thoughts and Process
I wanted to talk about the process and my thoughts while making this comic! Cause it was A Lot of planning and I feel like talking about how I went about it could maybe be helpful for other people who wanna make comics too ?
Also I just like talking and I've had So Many thoughts about it over the last few months, I just need to get them all out lol
everything is under the cut (it's Very Long) ↓↓↓
Initial Thoughts
I started planning the comic in January, around the time the chapter with the second user's plan to transfer ofa to shigaraki came out. I remember feeling so anxious and sad seeing how devastated Deku was to lose the 'gift' that All Might had passed to him :'((
It made me start thinking about what it would be like to not only go from having all this insane power at your fingertips back to nothing, but also how it would feel to lose the vestiges, which had been his advisers, yapping in his ear and keeping him company for months. How it would feel to go from constantly having people looking over your shoulder back to silence.
Then I thought about what that would mean for his and Bakugou's relationship, which has developed so much over the series. How Bakugou would feel about Deku no longer having ofa, how the two of them would wrestle with old feelings now that Deku would be quirkless again. Bakugou having to face the kid he bullied and Deku going back to a state where the world saw him as "useless" with dreams too big for somebody without a quirk.
I feel like sometimes it's not really taken into account how Deku's past affects him in the present, and that goes for in the actual series as well. Considering he's the main character, it's funny that we never really get too much of a peak inside his mind lol, especially not recently, which is most likely intentional, but I digress.
What I really wanted to do for this comic was circle back to Deku's question to All Might at the start of the series, "can I become a hero without a quirk" because while yes, deku can be a hero, he had to get a quirk to do so. So what happens now that he no longer has it? After all of Bakugou and Deku's development, would Bakugou's opinion on deku pursuing his dreams while quirkless change?
I really didn't want that answer to be no. I didn't want to believe that Deku would have to give up and "be realistic" again, it just didn't feel right for that to be the answer after 400 chapters.
So I wanted to make something that would encapsulate those thoughts! And I felt like the best way to fully get that out was through a scene in the aftermath of the battle, the two of them in the hospital with nothing to do but talk about their feelings.
It was important to me that the doubts they both felt about the future were stomped out, and for there to be reassurance that things between them wouldn't snap back to how it was before UA. That Deku could still reach his dreams even if they did become harder to obtain.
I also felt like narratively it would be a good parallel if Bakugou were to lose something tied to his power too, and with his arm being so bad off in canon, I thought it made sense that there was a chance he could lose it forever.
So it's like they're both coming out of the final battle worse off with huge losses, but no matter what, they're going to fight to achieve their dreams, and they're going to do it side by side :')
At its core, it’s very self indulgent lmao, I didn’t think that we’d get something that sappy and gross in canon (😳) so I wanted to make something for myself :')
Planning
So then I made a first draft!
When I’m making bigger comics, thumbnails are super helpful! They help me see the full picture of what it could look like, and let me change things without putting in too much commitment. So most of the drawings are loose, but occasionally I’ll put in a little extra detail into things that I want to make sure are included in the final work.
There’s three main things I consider when thumbnailing for comics; expression, composition, and dialogue. Each of these things have a huge influence on each other, so keeping them all in mind when roughing out your drawings is important!
How it usually works is I play out the scene in my head like a movie and roughly come up with dialogue, then I draw characters and expressions based on that dialogue and the visions I had. Simultaneously I plan out approximately where those drawings will go/how much space they'll take up and finally, I add in the dialogue and move things around as needed so everything fits nice together.
Having the dialogue there in the draft lets me know around how big the speech bubbles are gonna be which is a massive help when figuring out paneling. It lets me plan around the bubbles and make sure nothing is too squished!
General tips:
Something I learnt from storyboarding is that establishing a setting for your scene at the start is really important! Most of my comics will start with a long shot or include one early on for this reason. It’s good for making sure readers aren’t confused on where everything is taking place!
Having a variety of shots is good for keeping your story engaging! This comic has a lot of closeups, but I tried to add variety where I could and used a lot of different angles to keep things entertaining even if there isn't that much going on
Final thoughts on this draft:
At this stage, the ending was really different from the final version I ended up with. It was a lot more focused on Bakugou's losses too and the vibe was kinda "well we're both nerfed now but that's chill we can still be heroes." I axed most of that cause I thought it was dumb and wasn’t really the conclusion I wanted lol
After the rough draft, I started sketching everything out and adding in panels based on the composition from the og thumbnails. I also changed the dialogue as I went, focusing on making it sound more natural and easy to read.
This is where the nuances in movement and expression became a bit more refined and speech bubbles where better planned out.
At this stage, establishing clarity and imagining how readers are going to move their eye along the page is really important. Comics are generally read left to right, but you can’t just assume people are going to automatically read it in the order you want, which is why panels and speech bubble locations are so important.
Tips:
A general rule is that along with going from left to right, speech bubbles should be in descending order. This can be broken a bit, but it’s important to remember that the rule is there in the first place for clarity's sake. So if you do plan on breaking it, make sure it's not at the sacrifice of legibility. The human eye is lazy and will jump to whatever seems most logical, so planning things out in a confusing manner is going to make your comic hard to read!
This is another thing I picked up from storyboarding, but keeping in mind the 180° rule is good for clarity as well! In the simplest of terms, if you have two characters in a scene, it’s good to keep character A on one side and character B on the other, and not switch those sides willy-nilly, otherwise it can get confusing. This isn't as important in comics as it is in film/television, but I still like keeping it in mind.
Final thoughts:
I hated the original ending but I couldn't exactly figure out how I wanted it to go, and I was too busy at that point to dedicate the time I needed towards it, so it stayed as these four panels for while :’)
During the period I stopped working on it, Deku lost his arms which had me panicking lmao, so much of the comic was devoted to his emotions and body language, specifically in his hands. I just went "am I gonna have to redo everything? Do I give him prosthetics?" and I was fully ready to rework the entire thing but Eri came in clutch for Deku (and me) <3
After Deku started getting hurt, I didn't really like the idea of him being discharged and sitting with a still injured Katsuki, and wanted it to be clear that they were both still in the hospital, so I had to axe poor Deku's "hospital gown" shirt for actual hospital garb </3
At some point during april-ish, I finally added in a new beginning and end, which took the comic from four pages to seven. I felt like the new parts added a lot more levity and humour which were needed, and I think it helped make Izuku and Katsuki feel closer than before.
For these pages, I skipped the thumbnail stage and jumped straight into full page stuff, which felt easier because they were kind of just add-ons.
Something I specifically liked were the first two panels in the last page. Fun fact, but a few days after I sketched those out, horikoshi released that art of to two of them smiling together and I went !! That's the vibe I wanted !! Me and Horikoshi are on the same wavelength! That was a good day lmao.
At this point, though, while new parts added a lot more to the story and brought it closer to the vibe I wanted, they also messed with the tone and overall pacing and it ended up feeling really off. Deku was now doing this weird 180 from being super sad and upset to then immediately joking around and goofing off with no acknowledgement of anything Katsuki was saying, which had been fine enough when it was just 4 panels, but very off-putting once I made the comic longer
...So I decided to add even more panels :')
I went back to my original ideas, and part of what I wanted to get across originally was the doubts about Izuku's future from here on out, and the worry that things would go back to how they were before he got ofa. I realized those initial things which had fueled the comic were no longer really part of it, and I wanted to change that.
When I thought up the idea of visuals surrounding their middle school selves, I felt so smart LMAO. I think it ended up being the thing that brought the entire comic together.
Izuku reverting back to that anxious, unconfident state, spiralling into himself, and mumbling out all his insecurities, including his fears about losing Katsuki's friendship (and yet still somehow more worried about Katsuki's feelings than his own). And in turn, Katsuki remembering and seeing Izuku as that kid again, and his own fears of becoming a bully once more.
It better explored what I wanted to originally get across and delved more into their feelings, so that the jokes and levity at the end felt like they were earned, rather than being a rapid shift in tone.
(The only other thing that changed was the some of the panels in the first page. I changed up the speech bubbles and got rid of a panel so it would be less cramped and easier to read.)
At this point, I was still having trouble figuring out how to tie everything in and segway pages 6-7 into the ending organically, so it sat like this for around a month.
Then chapter 423 released and the battle was over and I realized how little time I actually had to get the comic out. I knew that the next chapter could possibly make my entire comic obsolete, so I hauled ass :D
These were the final plans before I cleaned everything up! I changed around some of the panels to make the story flow better, I figured out how to tie everything in, and I finalized the dialogue!
At this point all the panelling was redone because I wanted more space in between them. Before, it felt really cramped and I think adding in more breathing room made it feel slightly less overwhelming for readers.
The biggest changes from the previous draft:
First, obviously, I finished the middle school stuff and figured out how to get from one part to the next. This was the hardest part of the planning, but I ended up deciding that Deku would spiral, Bakugou would kind of bring him out of that, they'd hug and then Bakugou would reassure him. I also included motifs relating to their childhood to be reminiscent of The Apology, and Katsuki's thoughts going back to them sharing the special All Might cards, them at the lake, etc. As if this was another healing moment for each part of them; their current selves, their MS selves, and their childhood selves too
I then changed some of the panels in the first page. I switched the direction of the diagonal line in the first few panels because I thought it made it more clear which way to start reading and made the comic flow better.
In the fourth page, I added a panel after Deku starts crying, because I felt like it worked better with the dialogue, and brought in more of Katsuki's POV into the story
The sixth page doesn't really look different, but there was a lot of resizing going on panel-wise. The bottom panel doesn't take up as much space and the panels up top are a little bigger
The final big change was the eighth page. I added in an extra panel and changed up a lot of expressions/dialogue so there was more of a natural transition between the heartfelt moments and the two goofing off
I then made some final changes and drawover notes before I started a week of cleanup and colouring!
Cleanup/Colouring Stage
Cleaning up my sketches usually just means duplicating the layer, putting the original layer at 5% opacity and.. cleaning it until it looks nice lol. It's the easiest way for me to work because I hate doing lineart.
This is what my sketch vs final usually looks like. The biggest change was adding in bandages into all the drawings lol.
For speech bubbles, I drew them all by hand, created a flat colour layer underneath in white, duplicated that and filled it in with black and shifted it with the transformation tool to make a drop shadow effect.
It took me two days to colour the whole thing :')
Usually when I colour, I work in a pretty painterly way, but I thought flats/cell shading would be a lot faster for this. I was right but it still took Very Long.
The smartest thing I did was put colour swatches of each colour I was using on a separate layer above everything else so I could easily use the eyedropper and get the right colour without having to reference them from another page. It was a big time saver!
I colour all on a single layer so I don't have progress photos to show, but for each drawing, I roughly added in all the colours in the approximate locations they'd be, and once I did that for every single panel, I went back and cleaned them up one by one.
And that's that! After colouring was done, I added my signature, posted it, and took the nap of the century.
Final, Final Thoughts
I worked... Very Hard to get the comic out before leaks night and even if it was just a few hours, I'm so glad I was able to do it cause when I saw the actual chapter I lost my mindddd
I feel like as the comic progressed, Katsuki's feelings took a backseat and if I was to redo it, I'd probably put a bit more emphasis on that than I did in the final version. I feel like his ~inner turmoil~ didn't fully come through the way I wanted it to. I didn't want it to be an immediate acceptance — I wanted the fact that he was struggling with his past to be evident too — but with the focus being so heavily on Izuku, Katsuki's inner thoughts get a bit lost which is too bad </3 Good thing is Horikoshi had the exact opposite idea as me, so it all worked out :D
I'm really proud of how the comic turned out, and I'm so happy to have gotten such a positive response to it! Thank you for reading if you got this far and thank you for reading my silly self-indulgent hospital comic :)
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Update ☀️ 🌙 ⭐️
I thought it was important to share an update on how things are going in regards to my Game Show AU, Sight on the Prize, and my Tumblr (posts, artwork, etc) .
There are good news and bad news.
Good news ⬇️
Format change: Instead of SotP being a written story that’s published on AO3, I have decided to make it into a comic instead! Many of my ideas are better portrayed visually than in words, and I realized this while writing the first chapter.
Ideas: I’ve got many! So… many bullet points… Too many. There are so many things I want to reveal about this story, but I have to hold back for the sake of making the reveal worthwhile.
Artwork: I will keep on posting any artwork relating to my AU, as well as possible gifts for fellow artists. These may be less frequent for now, but I’ll try to keep posting!
Spotify: Well, would you look at that! I’ve had a growing playlist with any songs I view fitting for SotP. It currently pretty short, but it has any song I see that could relate to the game show brothers, the story’s plot, etc, in case you are interested in checking it out. If the link does not work, reach out to me and the problem will be fixed.
Bad news ⬇️
Busy: I’m currently struggling on maintaining a balance between this, social life, work, and so forth. For instance, I was originally planning on making a reveal video/post, featuring an animated SotP Sun (and a voice actor speaking as him) to announce how SotP will become a comic. I do not have many opportunities to put a lot of my time into this project.
A wait: A comic seems to be an easier route for me to take for this story. However, its a more time-consuming one, resulting to longer periods of time waiting for comic pages. Drawing characters and backgrounds, with lineart coloring and shading, while also having a story to tell will take some time.
Burnout: I’m hoping I do not exhaust myself with the responsibility, which is why I will take my time on this story. Right now, it’s been a while since I've made any new accomplishments with SotP. I’m taking a small break on the main project to focus on other responsibilities in the meantime.
I will still be around, especially on the daycarefriendpickup weekend magmas!
⭐️Thank you to those who took the time to read this update ⭐️🫶
#game show host au#sight on the prize#Stop#Sight on the prize update#story update#Totz post#sotp au#Spotify
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faster n harder - Lee Jeno (chapter one)
INCLUDES: biker!jeno x fem!reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers (they don't really get along at first not so much that they're enemies), fluff, smut, angst(?), fingering, choking, degrading (slut, whore, etc.), pet names (doll, baby, etc.), cockwarming, lmk if i’ve missed anything!
wc: 1.9k
a/n: this chapter is fairly rushed and has some VERY cliche scenes in it, so if you have high expectations for this story, please lower the bar to the ground lol. I'm not a very strong writer and it shows here, but please if you do decide to read anyway, don't be scared to leave any feedback <3
truth be told jeno never found himself the type of guy to fall in love with a girl who had absolutely no interest in him whatsoever, or even feel anything for anyone that wasn’t his bike. at least not until you had come around.
he has always been about the bike life, the dark aesthetic type that book girlies love. that was his hidden weapon, in his words at least. tattoos covering several inches of his skin, sharp eyes rimmed with eyeliner peeking through his open visor, all-black kawasaki he paid way too much for and can’t forget about his arms. toned, tanned with those veins that are too hard not to stare at.
but you didn’t spare him a second glance, that was new for him and he liked that. he liked that you weren’t throwing yourself at him, like all of the other girls he had come across. but once he found out you were into cars and bikes, man he may as well have just fallen in love with you right then and there. which he unintentionally did.
he would watch you from his bike as you pulled up to the university campus in either your car or bike. you knew he was watching, everyone knew. but that didn’t waver you, you had your three friends that was all you needed. having jeno’s eyes on you ultimately ended up in teases from your best friends.
“oooh, he’s into you best friend.” mark would giggle as he watched you roll your eyes dramatically while shotaro and felip laughed along with him. “whatever” you would grumble and just push past him and to your next class.
you weren’t planning on getting involved with jeno let alone his friends until you and felip noticed one of jeno’s friends had the same bike as the both of you. felip dragged you over to the owner of the bike with the biggest smile on his face.
“you have the same bike as us!” felip says to a brown-haired haechan who was sitting on his white suzuki gsx r600. haechan raises his eyebrow in both question and confusion. felip notices how out of place haechan’s white bike is compared to all the black bikes surrounding him.
“i’m felip by the way,” he says happily and holds his hand out for haechan. haechan smiles back and shakes felip’s hand. “oh, this is y/n” your best friend points over at you as you stand awkwardly behind him as you feel all the eyes of jeno and his friends on you.
“oh i know who she is.” haechan smirks as he looks over at you. “i’m haechan.” he says and ushers his friends to introduce themselves too.
“chenle” a guy with pink in his hair all but spits out coldly as he turns up his face at you and felip. “calm it.” haechan snips and smacks chenle’s arm, chenle pouts angrily and rubs his arm.
“i’m lee jeno” the last one tilts his head as he watches you with a smirk on his lips. you side eye him and turn back to haechan without sparing jeno a second glance. jeno raises his eyebrows and laughs softly at this.
felip starts up a conversation with haechan about his bike asking all sorts of questions. “where are you guys parked at?” haechan asks as he turns to chenle briefly. felip points out where your bikes are just as shotaro and mark pull up next to your bikes as well.
“you got a gang already?” jeno asks, his eyes never leaving your face as you pull your phone out with a waiting call from shotaro. “yeah, but we’re always looking for more people to join.” felip shrugs and waves at mark.
mark and shotaro were now walking towards you and the guys with their helmets in their hands. “wanna join us? it’s only the three of us.” haechan offers while chenle scoffs and drops down from his bike.
snatching up his helmet, chenle stomps away but not forgetting to smack his shoulder into you as he walks past. “ouch” you mumble and rub your arm to try to ease the pain chenle left behind. “i know it’ll be hard to, but ignore him. he’s not good with new people.” haechan offers you a sympathetic smile.
“clearly” felip scoffs and turns to you with a frown. “you okay?” he asks softly. you nod up at felip. “this is mark and shotaro.” felip points at both boys he named then turns back to haechan. “and this is haechan and jeno. the one that just practically abused y/n is chenle.” felip points at haechan and jeno.
“oh that loud ass kid from your music class?” shotaro asks mark innocently. mark seems to think for a couple of seconds before nodding. “i think so.” mark mumbles. upon hearing this jeno and haechan both laugh a little at the fact that shotaro and mark know chenle as the loudmouth he usually is.
haechan stares at mark with a smile before turning back to you and felip. “us three are going on a ride after class, would you guys like to join?” haechan offers as he gets off his bike, wedging his helmet between his left arm and hip, while slinging his backpack on his right shoulder.
you notice jeno doing the same from the corner of your eye, but see that he’s already got his body cross bag on and his helmet grasped in his right hand. jeno looks down to the helmet that was gripped in both your hands in front of you, he smirks seeing as it is the same helmet as his.
“i’m down, what about you guys?” felip smiles and turns to you and the other two guys who were pretending to fight behind you. “yeah, why not?” mark shrugs, shotaro throws felip a thumbs up with the hand that wasn’t holding his helmet.
felip opens his mouth to speak only to be cut off by jeno, who steps right in front of you. “what about you y/n? will you come?” jeno leans down to look into your eyes better. you flinch at the sudden intrusion of your personal space. “the fuck?” you mumble under your breath.
“if you get the fuck outta my face i’ll consider saying yes.” you scoff earning a chuckle from jeno and a full-blown laugh from haechan. “she’s not very good with new people in her space like that.” mark says from behind you, pushing at jeno’s chest as he stands behind you.
jeno stares at you for a couple of seconds before backing up with a smirk. “weird fuck.” you mumble to mark as you turn around and head towards your first class, which unfortunately for you had only jeno, chenle and haechan in.
you and the three guys make it to class just in time for the bell. beginning your walk to your usual seat you’re thrown off when you feel someone pull you into one of the isles by your elbow. “you’re one of us now, therefore you sit with us.” haechan says in a tone you can only pin as teasing.
“what? nah she’s not one of us!” chenle almost yells, you cringe at how high his voice went. “i agree with barney, i’m not one of you.” you scoff and begin walking away again.
haechan rolls his eyes drastically as he reaches out and grabs your arm again. “fine, not one of us. but sit with us.” haechan gestures to the empty seat between himself and chenle. you roll your eyes and sit down anyways. “call me barney again, and you’ll be picking yourself and your bike up off the fucking road, you prune.” chenle spits at you and shoves your chair away from him.
the push sends you almost flying into haechan. “chenle. stop it.” haechan seethes through gritted teeth just as he catches your chair right before it smashes into his. chenle does nothing but roll his eyes. “i’m sorry, he’s not usually this mean.” haechan looks down at you almost sadly, making you raise your eyebrow.
“it’s okay, i’m just glad he’s not hitting me.” you try to joke, but haechan doesn’t take it that way as he stares at you with a straight face. “i’m sorry.” you whisper.
as the class drones on for what felt like seventeen years, you somehow got chenle talking and laughing with you. after your multiple attempts to talk to him, he finally gave in and started talking to you, only for him to somehow really like you.
“hey, i’m sorry for how i treated you before.” chenle mumbles softly and looks up at you with a sad pout and shining eyes. you find it hard to ignore the smile pulling at your lips as you look down at him.
“it’s okay, you just left quite the impression.” you giggle. unbeknownst to you, chenle and a blissfully unaware haechan, jeno had been staring at you the whole class without any shame, a few of the girls who ogle over him noticed this and didn’t like the fact that a girl who wasn’t ‘visible’ before today had snagged a spot in the most popular friend group at this university.
jeno feels the girls stare on him and turns around to see half of them with their eyes on him and the other half glaring at you. jeno tilts his head and waits for them all to look at him before opening his mouth. “i know what you girls are about, so if you so much as breathe the wrong way in her direction you’ll have to deal with not only my group, but hers too,” jeno pauses, chenle frowns as he hears jeno speaking and turns to see what was happening.
chenle stops a laugh from escaping as he watches the scene unfold. “and i’m sure none of you wants mark and taro after you or felip speaking to you. do you?” he asks condescendingly. seeing all the girls shake their heads as fast as they could, chenle burst out into a fit of laughter.
the bell rings for the end of class, thanking the school for letting this be your only class today you begin walking to the exit where you can see shotaro jumping up and down while waving at you.
you giggle happily and run towards him, engulfing him in a hug when you see him waiting for you with open arms. the girls who were glaring at you had followed behind you to see if jeno was telling the truth about who you were friends with, only for jeno, chenle and haechan to push past them and stand behind you.
jeno looks over his shoulder at the girls and raises his eyebrow as if to challenge them to try something. while a couple of the girls were satisfied with seeing jeno telling the truth a couple of them still didn’t like the fact that you somehow got into jeno’s group before they could.
the girl who seemed to be the ‘leader’ of the group stomps her foot and stomps away. jeno rolls his eyes, to him all the girls at this uni were all the same. that was until he pinned you down a couple of months ago.
don’t get him wrong, he’d noticed your beauty from several miles away two years ago but it wasn’t until you rode to school on your old ninja h2r that he finally noticed you properly. It was almost like love at first sight despite it not being the first time he had laid eyes on you.
love at second sight, he liked to call it.
profiles | previous | next | masterlist
this fic will be very generic for the first couple of chapters as i don't want to dive straight into the story so please bear with me, it'll get better.
TAGLIST:
@sinisxtea @rjreins @wonwootakemyheart @vltevgrdn
request to be in my taglist here
#galacticseonghwa#nct dream#nct#jeno#lee jeno#nct jeno#nctzen#jeno fic#jeno smut#jeno fluff#lee jeno smut#lee haechan#zhong chenle#shotaro osaki#mark lee#felip suson#riize#sb19
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Just curious but what are the WIPs you have brewing up? Can’t wait to see more from you <3
i have so many WIPs at the moment 😭 my current dilemma is having all these ideas but for some reason having no brain power to actually write any of them (except for the last one on this list 👀)
feelings on fire chapter 11 & beyond - i'm in a weird place with fof at the moment. i love these two so much and i have their whole story planned out (even further than you might think) and i do plan on finishing it, but right now it's just not flowing for me. it's affecting my other writing too because i just feel this immense pressure to get it done and because of that, i tend to guilt myself out of working on anything else. it's been a struggle lmao. but i'm trying. i go into the draft whenever i have a little bit of motivation.
darkness hums (next to freeze or to thaw installment) - joel's going on the raid so you're left behind with tommy 👀 i'll get this done eventually lmao i have to be in the right mood to work on this series
beautiful stranger - this is my joel x escort!reader fic that i still feel SO passionate about but haven't finished. featuring an insecure & out of practice joel + lots and lots of joel worship. again, it'll get done, just not sure when.
pick my petals off - THIS fic has been in developmental hell for a long time lmao. dbf!joel, very very pervy and coercive who wants to sleep with you before you go away for college. huge age gap obviously, very filthy. it's actually a series so i haven't had much time to really focus on it. will i ever write it? we'll see lmao
stray animal - can't say too much about this. but. VERY dark fic. kinda fucked up. involves a glory hole. stepdad!joel. we'll see what happens lol
untitled best friend's dad!joel fic - this is my current passion project, i'll be honest. been thinking about it for a long time and would really like to start writing it soon. it's a series though so i'd like to have most - if not all - of it written before i start posting it. it takes place in jackson and you're ellie's best friend. you have a crush on joel, he doesn't see you that way. but then something happens and you end up growing closer, very slowburn. i've also been referring to it as touch starved!reader fic lol. han @swiftispunk has heard alllllllllll about it
imperfect for you - a drabble i'm writing for @janaispunk's 1500 kisses challenge!! it's joel + nose kiss 🥰 hope to have this up soon, it's kinda taken a backseat because i suddenly got inspiration to write something else.....↓
⭐is it that sweet? - this one's coming tonight most likely, so i won't say too much 👀 pervy!joel + the beach ⭐
so yeah. a lot. i mean, this doesn't even include ideas that are only living in my brain rn and not a draft, like a sequel to my boss!dave york fic and a threesome sequel to my frankie fic one of your girls, more of my boyfriend's dad!joel (believe it or not, i do intend to return to these two eventually. i miss them v much), etc. i feel like sometimes readers might think that just because an author hasn't posted for a while they maybe have lost interest in their fics/writing/fandom/etc, but it really couldn't be further from the truth lmao. i have so many ideas and i'm constantly writing things down, it's just actually turning them into fics that i've been struggling with lately. bear with me 💖 and thank you for asking!
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Severed - Worm Fanfiction Review
CW: Suicide and canon typical gore.
I don't think I've so eagerly anticipated an imaginary and, likely unwritten at the time of this post, scene in fanfiction than @heyitschartic's Severed. I've been following this series since it was posted three years ago. I'll avoid spoilers and the scene I'm imagining in question will be under the cut, but the basic premise is that Jack Slash chooses Skitter as his nominee during the Slaughterhouse 9 arc, rather than Oni Lee, who was disappointing, and Golem, who he later contrived the entire S9k arc for.
I will say that this work is a beautiful plunge into What Ifs which look all the more horrifying if you compare them against canon. You get flashback snippets of the S9 arc retold from a few perspectives before being thrust into post-GM, maybe pre-Ward? era with modern Skitter. I can certainly say that Severed blows all other S9!Taylors out of the water, Taylor is authentic in ways I haven't seen with anyone else. 10/10, each chapter is at it's absolute peak and it has 11 chapters as of this post. Each gut-punch has me anticipating the next chapter, only for the next chapter to explain why Taylor's friends and enemies hate her so much. I gasped when Tattletale said that to her. I strongly recommend Severed to anyone and everyone who hasn't already read it yet. Here's the link:
Oh wait does this count as the first of my Worm fanfic reviews--
So, I've read chapter 11 and I've been having Taylor and her clone rotating in my head endlessly, but the scene I'm anticipating is the one hinted at in Chapter where Defiant wants Taylor to go under the knife with Bonesaw again so Riley can fix all of Taylor's everything that is physically wrong with her, because her body is practically bio-tinkertech, even after they ripped almost everything else out.
I can only imagine Taylor reiterating that she refuses to be put under for the procedure, and using every moment to vent her anger and frustration on a Riley that is likely seeing marked improvement in her therapy (maybe). But Taylor keeps hitting her with blow after blow. "They'll never let you work on anyone else ever again, so you had better not kill me." and "Nobody will ever let you willingly touch them, I'm the only one who you can use your tinker abilities on, and that can change if I don't need you anymore." "If you ever find someone you can trick into letting you touch them, hold them, or even work on them, I'll kill them. It'd be better than the fate worse than death that letting you touch someone inflicts, and I should know, I'm living through it."
Maybe Chartic has something else planned, but I would like to see this Bonesaw cry. An unshakable, unmoved Taylor just heaps on the abuse through her own tears of pain, holding Riley hostage even as she roots through her guts to put her back together. It's very Taylor to fight through pain to force people to help her. The last time they saw each-other, Riley was doing well. I don't think she'll be doing very well after they meet again.
Maybe an overseeing team of surgeons and Capes become increasingly uncomfortable as Riley is tormented. They find themselves defending Bonesaw of all people, from one of her former victims too.
I'm sorry if this is unsolicited Chartic, but I can't wait to see their reunion, whatever form it takes. Severed's way of making Taylor suffer the consequences of her own actions, while invoking sympathy simultaneously with disgust at Taylor's betrayals; the depths she's sunken to, and then to finally wrap it up with shame and admonishment of her friends, turned victims, is masterful. How dare either they or I judge her for what she had to do to survive. Each chapter reveals that it got worse and worse. At some point, I suspect that (one of) the reasons that Taylor is being given such little leeway by the rest of the cast and remains constantly under the threat of harsh re-imprisonment or execution by vengeful kill-teams is because she somehow became the worst member of the Slaughterhouse Nine or even surpassed them in notoriety.
Tattletale telling Skitter to kill herself was such an insane scene that I stood up and covered my mouth. I was in disbelief. But knowing now that Skitter had betrayed the Undersiders to a slaughter by Mannequin (after having sacrificed her own father and, essentially, her own pre-cape life and innocence with him. The Taylor that she did not want to be, embracing the Skitter she chose to become) and then at some point caused the remainder of the Livsey family to kill themselves the same way Reggie did, with gunshot wounds, really clarifies that Taylor did something unforgivable. She exploited her friendship with Lisa to injure her in a way that can never be repaired. Lisa in canon never really had much to do with her parents ever again, but she probably didn't want them dead for neglecting Reggie.
I may edit this later, or reblog it, as new thoughts on the work come to me.
#worm#wormblr#parahumans#worm spoilers#taylor hebert#wildbow#worm fanfiction#skitter#worm web serial#slaughterhouse 9#worm fanfiction review
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Chapter 4: Be different
Pairing: joel miller x f!reader (no use of Y/N) | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI | W.C.: 2.5k
Summary: Your life sounds perfect: you live with a perfect man, you live in your dream house, you do the job you love, you don't miss anything, except love and passion.
Warnings: no use of Y/N, use of you, reader is a photographer, reader has no physical descriptions except hair (no type or color) long enough to hold on to, unspecified age gap, Joel and reader are two cheaters, for a while. Smut, use of pet names, dirty talk, masturbation, unprotected PiV but the first time, creampies, comeplay, oral (both f and m recieving), exhibitionism, size kink, personal use of an unspecified sex toy. No outbreak here. Let me know if I missed anything!
Masterlist
follow @mybworlds and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics
Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics
Taglist @harriedandharassed
You laid in your bed for almost an hour, but you can't get to sleep, remorse preventing you from sleeping.
Patrick felt you tense all evening and tried to relax you by preparing a warm bath first, a massage later, and finally holding you close to him until he falls asleep. You try to close your eyes, but the image of Joel clinging to you, his crooked smile before kissing you or have sex with you haunts you all night long. When it's almost six o'clock, you text Daisy telling her you have important things to tell her, you're sure that given the hour she's still asleep, it's Monday, and you doubt she's out clubbing with some of her pilates friends.
"Honey, are you awake yet?" Patrick asks with his voice still slurred from sleep turning in bed toward you, you barely turn your torso toward him and mumble an excuse.
You are a liar.
"What's your schedule today?" he asks clutching you even tighter resting his head on your shoulder and encircling you with his arm.
"Nothing for today, in fact I was thinking of staying home," you answer him by settling on your pillow, but staying with your eyes open staring into the dark "What about you?"
"I'm going out around 10. I have to go to a company only." he replies giving you a kiss between your shoulder and neck, "Baby, I was thinking. . . what if we invited some friends over for a barbecue on Friday night?" he asks you "If you have plans, we could postpone." he adds giving you another kiss in the same spot.
You shrug caught by a shiver, "Patrick. . ." you mutter turning to him, you would like to tell him the thruth, but you know you will hurt him so much, but you have never been someone who lies, someone who keeps quiet about things of such gravity. You feel like a monster.
The guilt is eating you alive.
Patrick's lips are soft and immediately seek yours, which very shyly open, welcoming his tongue. You kiss him, but your eyes fill with tears.
How do the others betray and go on living as if nothing is wrong?
"Why are you crying?" he asks you turning on the bedside light and turning back to you worriedly, he gives you a kiss on the shoulder "You can talk to me, you know. I'm listening," he adds again.
"I know," you say bending your head toward him.
Part of you says talk to him, the other part that deep down it's true you betrayed him, but it won't happen again so why destroy a ten plus years relationship?
He wraps an arm around your waist and looks at you with sweetness and a little concern, "Love."
"Patrick, it must be that damn pill I take for my period!" you exclaim as more tears wet the pillow "Maybe among the side effects there's mood swings." you add almost sobbing and pulling up with your nose.
He holds you tightly to him, "It's okay, relax." with one arm you see him close the light and then return to wrap you in his arms "Sssh, it's okay, I'm here."
You love Patrick, but sex with Joel Miller was great.
"You had sex with the best man?!" Daisy exclaims with a smile and squinting eyes "And? Did he make you come?" she adds, almost shouting, as you shush her by looking around and hoping you haven't attracted anyone's attention, "So?" the meddler urges.
"Yes."
"Uh huh!" she exclaims taking a sip of her nonalcoholic drink "I want some sinful details, please let me dream. Jordan can only do it missionary style now! He's good for goodness sake, but I'd also like something new!" she complains, rolling her eyes.
"Don't make the same mistake I did," you comment sipping your fruity cocktail.
"Honey, between you and me there is a difference. Jordan and I are still fine, you and Patrick are in crisis even though you keep denying it." you sigh heavily "If this shake-up serves to clear your head welcome, in fact I suggest you find him again and have another greeeeat session."
"Daisy! Stop it." you exclaim, lowering your head "It mustn't happen again, in fact I hope I never see him again."
"But why? Honey, you could have had a guy who banged you on the bed to seek only his own pleasure and take the edge off, this Joel on the other hand, yes he fucked you, but he fucked you good."
"What do you know about that?" you ask her.
"You have a different light in your eyes, even if you think it's guilt." she comments, staying silent for a minute "So how many times did he make you cum?" she asks you mischievously.
"More than once."
"Oh wow, that's wonderful." she comments dreamily "He used his fingers?" she asks again.
"No."
She whistles in approval, "I want to meet him,"
"Daisy!" you scold her, squinting.
"I only want to tell him to have more meetings with you." you laugh nervously "And in what position?"
"Um. . . missionary, but he made me feel. . ." you search for words, but those words make you shudder because you don't want to feel that way and yet you do.
"Alive? Wanted?"
"Wanted." you answer.
"Will you look for him again?"
"As far as I know his first and last name could be made up, as could everything he told me about himself. After all, I did it first, I mean. . . yes I told him I was engaged, but after I had sex with him," you answer a little uneasily.
"What about him?"
"Nothing. Daisy, but he can't say anything, we're two strangers and it's normal that there's no implication other than physical between us." you reply, shrugging your shoulders. You continue to chat some more now about Joel, now about your jobs, now about some memories, finally you remember Patrick's proposal to you about the barbecue and you invite her and Jordan for Friday night, she enthusiastically accepts.
Patrick planned big things, he bought pounds of meat, potatoes, sandwiches to stuff, several bottles of beer and some wine, liquor, in short he buys anything so that your guests can leave and think they ate their fill and had a good time. You and Patrick invite many friends, those who are married, those close to marriage, those who like you are cohabiting, only a few are still single.
You devote yourself to setting up the garden by inserting among the branches of the saplings you have many small lights, you then put in just before your guests arrive even the outside speakers for some soft music to accompany you. It's perfect, it looks like a fairy tale garden.
Patrick observes as you the garden waiting for your guests by hugging you from behind, "You did a great job, my love," he says kissing you in your hair. You lean back against his chest "We did a great job" you correct him smiling.
The first guests arrive and Patrick gets to work, you meanwhile pour them drinks exchanging small talk with the two wives of your partner's friends, you show them around the house, in short you act like a perfect housewife. You bring the speakers outside and put on the playlist of soft music as you already planned, when you turn around you see yet other couples, some you know, some you don't, and then you see Daisy running up to hugging you glad to be there, Daisy is joined shortly afterwards by her boyfriend who greets you with a big hug too and a warm smile, then Jordan excuses himself and walks over to Patrick leaving you and Daisy to your chatter. Everything is going very well, Patrick cooked everything divinely, your guests are intent on drinking, eating, laughing, chatting, in short it's a very successful evening ber. You and Daisy are on one of the little white chairs in the garden and she's telling you a silly joke, when you turn to your guests and see a face you never, ever thought you'd see there: Joel Miller, assuming that's his name.
"Oh, shit!" you exclaim, suddenly giving your back to your guests as you turn fully toward your friend who looks at you puzzled, "What's going on?" she asks.
"He's here," you reply impatiently between your teeth.
"Um, he who?" she asks still puzzled.
"Him." you insist, Daisy assumes a surprised expression.
"Oh, and who is he?"
"I dunno." you reply full of fear "Why is he here?"
"Will you tell me who is among them? If you do that you draw even more attention, my friend." she says again "Oh, oh," she adds.
"And what are you doing here?" someone asks behind you.
You look with frightened eyes first at your friend and then turn toward the person who just spoke to you, when you do, you see Joel standing next to you staring at you with a frown, you turn for a moment toward Daisy, who raises her eyebrows and then says, "I'll see you later." then she stands up and after looking at Joel for a longer moment she reaches Jordan.
"What are you doing here?" he asks you again.
You get up from your chair, "I could ask you the same!" you exclaim.
"You made it!" Patrick exclaims behind you coming up behind you all smiling at Joel "My friend!" he exclaims again hugging Joel with a pat, Joel weakly returns the hug still amazed to have found you there probably "Have you two introduced yourselves yet?" Patrick continues loosening the hug "Joel, this is my better half and my love, this is my long time friend, Joel Miller." Patrick says.
You're not sure which one of you has the more surprised look on your face, the fact is you try to disguise as best you can your already prior acquaintance by shaking hands, but you immediately lower your gaze, fuck this isn't possible, this must be a nightmare.
"How are things going, Joel?" Patrick asks placing himself at your side and absentmindedly resting an arm on your shoulders.
"Not bad." he replies simply shrugging his shoulders.
"Sarah? Your little one now how old is she?" Patrick asks again.
You wander your gaze from him to Joel, Joel tries not to even dignify you with a glance "She's fine, she's fifteen and in the midst of rebellion, you know adolescence!"
The two of them give each other a small, complicit smile, "Honey, would you please go get Joel and me a beer?" you nod with a small smile at Patrick, while casting a puzzled glance at Joel.
It takes you longer than it should, you are in fact lost in thought that Joel himself has cheated on his partner, and what's more, he has a daughter! So, you should feel even less guilty. When you return to the two of them, you find them intent on laughing and shaking their heads about an incident happened in Joel's company, "Thank you, babe." Patrick says giving you a chaste kiss on the lips, a kiss you barely manage to return considering who is in front of you. "Thank you." replies Joel in a neutral tone to whom you somewhat brusquely hand his beer.
"Patrick!" Edward, another of your friends, calls him, "Come on, lazybones, there are still these sausages to roast!"
"Coming!" replies Patrick immediately, waving an arm "Love, will you entertain Joel some more while I'm gone?" he asks in a whisper.
"Why?" you ask hesitantly.
"Well, ever since his wife left with his daughter, he's always alone and I feel sorry for him." he replies causing a knot in your throat, you turn a glance toward Joel who sips his beer looking toward the small crowd "Can you do this for me?" you nod "Thanks, babe." he adds again placing a kiss on your forehead and pulling away.
You hesitate, sighing thoughtlessly. You lean closer to him, "So...you and Patrick are friends?"
"Yeah, and you and him are together." he says looking down at his beer turning the bottle over in his hands "Patrick has always been a lucky son of a bitch," he adds taking a sip of his beer "Always good grades, nice girls," he adds again "I had my good times too, uh. I don't envy Patrick, I never did." he clarifies and then finally looks into your eyes for a long moment "So, you are unhappy with Patrick, uh?"
You furrow your brow, "Don't judge me," you reply annoyed.
"I'm not."
"Yes, you are, I recognize that look," you say still piqued.
"No, you don't. Me too, I thought everything was fine with my ex-wife, and look where I am now," he continues, taking the last sip of beer.
"What happened?" you ask him taking the bottle from his hands and walking to the kitchen inside to throw the bottle away.
"The most trivial thing in the world," he tells you as you walk into the kitchen "I was so focused on work, she wanted more attention and so one day she made me find the lawyer's letter." he concludes in a sigh leaning against the kitchen cabinet "She then moved to Michigan near her parents and took Sarah away."
"'m sorry," you say laying a hand on his forearm squeezing it just barely "How long ago did that happen?" you ask again.
"Six years ago." he replies raising his eyebrows at you with a sad look "Since then, the idea of tying myself down scares me." he confesses "I can't do it, it's like disappointment, defeat blocked me." he adds shaking his head "Since then I only have casual encounters." he says again looking at you, you lower your gaze "However, usually, they are all single women. I never had sex with a busy woman or a friend's girlfriend." he clarifies again "I'm not a homewrecker. In fact, sorry if I crossed the line last time and even made you feel uncomfortable, that was not my intention."
You shake your head, "We were wrong, Joel." you add, barely squeezing his shoulder "I'm sorry if I overreacted, I knew that. . . I mean, that it was just sex, but I've been a bit hysterical."
He gently strokes one cheek and then absentmindedly touches your lower lip with a fingertip, you observe first his lips and then his eyes "If you look at me like that, we could start again." he warns you with a half smile.
"The truth is. . . on the one hand I'm regretful, but on the other. . . I loved every single moment." you admit, looking him straight in the eye.
"So do I." he says, his gaze wandering from your eyes to your lips. The situation could escalate at any moment, when interrupting everything is Patrick himself "There you are!" he exclaims enthusiastically "What's going on?" he asks, Joel immediately withdrawing his hand from your face.
"Nothing." you reply, pulling your hand away from his shoulder "Joel was just telling me about the divorce."
You look Joel in the eye for a longer moment and then turn away from him and flank Patrick.
"Bad story." comments Patrick simply "Come on, come on over. The sausages are ready to be served and the boys want to try karaoke."
"Oh, yay." you comment unenthusiastically rolling your eyes, Joel smiles at your reaction.
You and Joel don't share any other moment alone and that's okay, you don't want any of your friends or Patrick's friends to notice this connection with Joel. You just met each other, or so you make believe!
You are alone in the garden, lying on a lawn chair staring at the sky; there are quite a few stars visible that evening. In another moment, you would have run for your camera to take pictures of that beautiful starry sky, but not tonight. In fact, you think about Joel. You think that no matter how hard you try to pretend that everything is fine and that what happened with Joel will never happen again, a part of you feels, however, that it won't. Joel is not just anyone, but a Patrick's friend, and knowing Patrick, it's likely that he will invite him again to your place.
#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x female reader#joel x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#joel tlou#joel miller hbo#tlou fanfiction#tlou fic#the last of us hbo#joel miller self insert#the last of us#joel fic#the last of us fanfiction#joel the last of us#pedro pascal#pedro pascal as joel miller#smut#joel x f!reader#joel x female reader#joel x you#joel miller fic#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal character fanfic
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Thanks for the Sub (ksj) | Chapter Four
Pairing: Camboy!Seokjin x Gamer!Reader (afab)
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 19.5k
Release date: June 11, 2024
Genre: Smut, fluff, angst, camboy au, gamer au, comedy, crack, slow burn, coworkers/boss/friends to lovers, an exploration of adults in their late 20s/early 30s
Summary: As you spend more time with Seokjin, the threads seem to be even more tangled than before. Memories of the past threaten to ruin everything that the two of you have. Are you sure this is what you really want anyway?
Chapter Warnings (Oh god bear with me in this): angst, miscommunication (sorry sorry sorry we need it for the plot), cursing, alcohol, insecurity and self doubt, sexual harassment online and offline, pet names, fat!reader (we love to see it), sexual fantasies in the form of oral sex/face riding, Seokjin gets hard like 3 times (pretend to be shocked), masturbation, references to menstruation and first time sexual fantasies/masturbation, lingerie, sex toys, boundaries & lack of boundaries, references to poorly written novels (derogatory), verbal abuse from family members, gaslighting
a/n: Hi. I know it's been a while. Thank you for your patience. This week especially has been rough as my family lost one of our pet cats unexpectedly, but I wanted to put my best foot forward and share this chapter with y'all to enjoy our Seokjin's return! I hope you enjoy this chapter and that its length will tide you over. I have a special festa treat planned with another chapter for y'all this week, and I promise it'll have been worth the wait. Enjoy! -h
SpringDay: He didn’t leave a note
Wonu15: Was he supposed to?
SpringDay: No, but…idk
Wonu15: Then why are you upset if that wasn’t in your agreement
SpringDay: IDK!!!!!! Because we talked about things? At least, a little bit? And he saw me cry and he held me.
Wonu15: But did you ask him to stay the night? Did you ask him to leave you a note?
SpringDay: No
Wonu15: Well
SpringDay: I know!!!! I get it!!!
Wonu15: Maybe you should tell him
Wonu15: That you’re in love with him
SpringDay: Fuck you
“Ugh!” You exit your chat app and toss your phone across the covers as you roll over in your bed, inhaling the pillow that now smells of Seokjin.
He was here. Last night. He held you in his lap on your bed. He moved your furniture around for you. He stayed until you fell asleep. And even after that for a bit longer. You’d felt a chill, possibly as he left the bed, and it was enough to wake you.
It was still dark, but the sun was creeping in slowly. Enough that you could see his slightly mussed hair sticking up in the back, a yawn escaping him with a sigh as he idled in the doorway, almost like he was hesitating before he left.
If you didn’t know any better, you would think you dreamed it all up, but as soon as you heard the door click shut behind him, you found yourself curling around that warm spot in your sheets and falling back asleep.
And that’s where you’ve been for most of the day, savoring the feeling of him in your bed or standing in the kitchen slightly hungover as you finished off the rest of last night’s pizza. You’ve apologized to your followers for skipping last night’s stream, promising that you’ll make up for it tonight.
Your stomach clenches a bit at the idea of an encore performance from the last time you were live. Maybe Seokjin could come over and hang around while you get started? At least for a little bit?
He probably has better things to do than hang around your place.
True. You had monopolized so much of his time last night, and it didn’t even amount to an actual stream. It’s selfish to assume he has nothing better to do than to sit around and monitor you to make sure you don’t succumb to peer pressure.
You need to be an adult and do this on your own.
With a sigh, you hoist yourself up out of bed and over to your computer. Everything you went over yesterday feels like a blur. At this point, you’re not entirely sure what you’re supposed to do. You remember he mentioned something about utilizing wishlists as a monetary solution to some of the more unhinged followers.
If they have money to spend, let them spend it. But don’t compromise your morals to do so.
Is that something he encounters often? It has to be. You wonder what streaming was like for Seokjin at first, all the ways he compromised himself for his followers. Is the dominant persona he exudes even authentic? What if he’s more submissive or even plain vanilla and just doing all this for the money?
You can’t say you’d blame him. That last stream had you feeling as though you were sitting on the blade of a knife as you debated what the extra cut of money could bring you. Your heartbeat pounds more heavily in your chest, a few beats feeling like they’re piercing into your throat.
It feels awful to know the way money has made you so powerless. And now here you are, about to force yourself onto a stream for some extra bucks in this month’s payout.
How does Seokjin do it, really? You don’t want to pressure him into talking about it. Not when you two aren’t intimate like that. But you can’t help but wonder why and how streaming, much less streaming sex, doesn’t tear him apart each time.
You wish you could ask him.
Your reminder on your phone alerts you and you groan, forcing yourself away from the desktop and into the bathroom to shower. In your hamper, you spot Seokjin’s pink button down that he’d lent you last night.
It felt like a piece of armor then, shrouding you from the chill of anxiety. Even now, as you lift it up to your nose, that comforting and fresh smell of his detergent begins to settle the sourness of your gut.
Maybe you could do this alone, after all. Just, with a little encouragement from a friend.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” someone said.
“I am not!” Another voice. A deeper one.
“You asked her if she wanted to fuck!”
“I did not! I asked if she wanted to come over and eat ramyeon! That’s all that it means!”
“No, no hyung, he’s right. That’s not at all what it means.”
Words. Seokjin was hearing them flurry around him, picking up the tail end of whatever story Namjoon was telling the group. But he wasn’t really listening. He was too tired. He had napped for about an hour in his office earlier, though it was unintentional. He was sitting at his desk, placing a produce order when he felt one of his eyelids shut. Then the other. The next thing he knew, someone was banging on the door saying the register was jammed and they needed the key.
He had left your apartment late. Right when the sun was beginning to rise. And he probably wouldn’t have even left then if it wasn’t for the fact that you finally had rolled off of him after about an hour of you sleeping heavily on his chest.
You talk in your sleep, he learned. Not a lot, but in little murmurs, usually yes or no spilling out of your mouth with ease. He was grateful for them, because otherwise he would have fallen asleep with your body slotted against him perfectly, the weight of your head and arm on him just enough to tumble him into a state of safety.
Both too late and too soon, you moved, rolled onto your other side. And then Seokjin left.
He debated leaving a note so you would know he wasn’t bailing, going so far as to find a pen and notepad from the kitchen fridge to write on, but then he knocked sense into himself. Notes were for people who left after hookups when unsure whether or not they were welcome to stay the whole night. You’d invited him over, sure, but as friends. You would have of course expected him to leave after you fell asleep, as that was the agreement. Right?
Seokjin had danced around your living room for ten minutes, pacing back and forth, looking like a crazy detective searching for clues. What would he even say in it? If he left one would you think that he’d expected you guys to have sex?
So he didn’t, he tossed the notepad on the side table as he grabbed his things, aware now that his button down had gone missing since you changed into your pajamas, but he didn’t have time to look for it, and didn’t want to further snoop through your stuff to reclaim it.
By the time he left, the sun was up, and he had just enough time to rush the few blocks to work. Besides that nap, he hadn’t slept at all last night.
And now he was on Jungkook and Taehyung’s couch, a beer magically in his hand that he didn’t remember getting while his friends apparently talked about…ramyeon?
“–clearly your fault you choose to pretend you’re so old and stay out of touch. Seokjin-hyung knows what that means, don’t you hyung?”
Who was talking to him? He grunted, hoping whoever it was would let that be enough of an answer.
“Hyung?” Jungkook. That’s who was talking to him.
Seokjin blinked. His contacts felt like sandpaper in his eyes.
“Don’t bother with him. He hasn’t had a single sip of that beer since he got here and has been zoned out staring at that wall for about thirty minutes,” Yoongi said, moving from Seokjin’s periphery into full view.
“Are you okay?” Namjoon asked gently, clearly concerned but also possibly using this moment to help redirect whatever teasing he was facing.
“Just tired,” Seokjin responded.
“Oh yeah, you had to work today. And you were at Y/N’s to help her with her stream last night, right? How did that go by the way?” Jimin asked.
“What stream?” Seokjin asked, confused. And then he remembered. That was the whole point he had gone over there in the first place.
“Um, you know, the one that you went to her place for?” Jimin’s eyebrows knit together. The rest of the group craned their heads in Seokjin’s direction, curious.
“She, um, she didn’t end up streaming.”
“Then, what time did you leave?” A broken, awkward silence fell over his friends as Seokjin shifted in his seat.
It suddenly felt oppressively warm in here, and heat creeped up his neck as he tried to string words together.
“I think like…7?”
“So you got there, only to turn around and leave? So why didn’t you sleep last night? You look like shit,” Taehyung added unhelpfully.
Yoongi rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “Is everyone really this clueless today or are you all fucking with me?”
He pushed himself up from the beat-up leather armchair, his usual space during their hangouts and sauntered over to the small bar Taehyung and Jungkook had right off the dining area. He took his time, uncapping the bottle of whiskey Seokjin presumed they kept mostly for Yoongi’s benefit, and filled one of the highball glasses left out for him.
Once Yoongi started drinking whiskey, everyone knew to prepare themselves for an evening of his contemplative and sometimes unfiltered ranting. This was when his self-proclaimed ADHD seemed to shine best.
“Honestly, you guys still don’t see it do you.”
“See what exactly?” Seokjin asked, finally awake enough to formulate sentences.
Yoongi studied his glass for a moment and in a final decision plucked the entire bottle from the bar and brought it back to his group of friends. He groaned as he sat back in the chair, like it was painful to do so on his bones, like he was the age of Seokjin's father and not merely thirty.
Yoongi knocked back his first glass of the whiskey, smacking his lips afterward.
In the corner of his eye, Seokjin saw Jimin roll his in annoyance.
“Can we get to the point?” He asked.
Yoongi shot him a look, and then placed the glass down on the coffee table.
“First of all, Taehyung-ah, he didn’t leave early. Hyung here left late. As in this morning. He was obviously out all night.”
Namjoon snorted. “Hyung, this isn’t a detective drama. We all kind of figured.”
“I didn’t,” Taehyung objected.
“We know,” Namjoon chuckled and turned his attention back to Yoongi. “Ok, oh wise one, what is it that we all seem to be missing?”
Yoongi pouted, but he recovered his dramatic flair. It was something everyone knew to give him the space to perform, the odd pause in his quiet nature usually a sign that he needed attention and didn’t know how to ask.
“Well, when you put it that way, maybe I won’t say.” A slight smirk cracked through Yoongi’s façade.
“Did you guys sleep together or something?” Hoseok blurted, which had an immediate rush of blood to Seokjin’s head as he flooded with embarrassment.
“No! God, no we didn’t!” He didn’t want to mention that yes, technically you slept with him, just not in that way.
“Pfft, relax. Of course he didn’t. You think this guy will be looking all mopey after he finally gets laid again? No, he’s going to have that stupid dopey grin he always had with…you know,” Yoongi recovered the attention of the room, Soon Yi’s name unsaid but stirring a bit of unease among his friends. Yoongi and her had been particularly close during the period of Seokjin and her dating, having been his roommate for quite some time. He’d learned to weave his life around Soon Yi’s presence, over time warming up to her during the days he returned from class to find her studying on Seokjin’s bed and waiting for him to come home. Since the breakup, he’s always refused to say her name.
“Ah, the dopey grin, I almost forgot about that.” Jimin’s warm voice filled in the gaps where Yoongi’s sudden coldness cast, sitting himself on the edge of the leather armchair as he plucked the glass of whiskey Yoongi had just poured from his hands and gulped it down.
Yoongi glared at Jimin, but it faded quickly as Jimin winked back at him. He was clearly trying to lighten the mood, and Yoongi took the bait, softening back into Jimin’s outreached arm that began rubbing circles down his back.
“I’m right here,” Seokjin said lamely, but his friends ignored him. He put the beer up to his lips and let it flood into his mouth. It was warm. Gross.
“Do you think he’s going to start doing that thing again where he’s late for everything because he’s too busy having sex with Y/N all the time to manage his time better? Because that was annoying,” Jungkook complained.
Seokjin spluttered, choking on the beer. “Wh-what?!”
Everyone laughed, including Namjoon, who gave Seokjin a sympathetic look. “I think now that he streams all the time, his time management skills have improved.”
“Besides, it seemed more like it was Soon Yi who was causing that issue. She was chronically late for everything. Is Y/N late for things?” Hoseok added.
Seokjin blinked. How did this conversation even get to this point?
“What the fuck is going on?” He asked, exasperated.
Yoongi chuckled, stepping back into his guiding elder persona with ease. “You’re down bad for Y/N, obviously. We are just trying to be supportive.”
“I am not!” He argued, the heat of embarrassment now turning into anger.
“You are too,” Taehyung argued. “I’ve seen you at work with her a few times. You are always staring at her like she’s the most delicious thing you’d ever eat. You want her so bad, hyung.”
Seokjin glared at Taehyung. “Just because I look at her sometimes doesn’t mean I am in love with her.”
“Okay Namjoon, I take it back. You’re not a fucking idiot. Or maybe you still are, but Jin-hyung takes the cake as the biggest fucking idiot here.” Hoseok said, a humorless laugh flying from his chest. “Wow. No one said you’re in love with her.”
Seokjin’s face flushed.
“Aww, don’t be embarrassed hyung!”
“Yeah, you don’t have to tell us all your secrets.”
“Did you have sex though?”
“Taehyung-ah!”
“What? You’re the one who asked in the first place!”
“So?”
“So, I know you’re curious too. I want to know which one of his porn star moves he pulled out of hiding. Did he Full Nelson her or was it purely missionary? Nah, nah, he’s too dirty for that. Hyung, did you Full Nelson her?”
“Wait, what’s a Full Nelson?”
“It’s a wrestling move,” Namjoon said.
“It’s a sex thing!”
“No. You’re making that up!”
“Hyung, is that a sex thing?”
“Yah! Shut up!” Yoongi said, and four pairs of eyebrows shot up as Namjoon, Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jungkook broke away from their conversation to come back down to Earth.
Seokjin’s hands were sweaty and he jostled his leg anxiously as his friends composed themselves.
“Sorry,” Taehyung mumbled.
Jimin sighed, finally pulling his hand away from Yoongi’s back.
“Maybe we should let Seokjin-hyung speak,” he suggested, gesturing to his anxious friend.
Everyone nodded sheepishly.
Seokjin took a deep breath, not even sure where to begin.
“Well, I…First of all, Y/N and I really didn’t have sex. She had a panic attack over the possibility of me being gay for some reason. Er, well not me being gay but asking the question. And that seemed to be something for her that opened the floodgates to an entire larger panic attack. So, after I cooked us jeon, we just kinda hung out and ditched the idea of the stream. And then, she did fall asleep on me for a bit.”
The memory of you this morning flooded his thoughts, how your hair skimming across his arms as you shifted your head gave him goosebumps. Or that your scent had invaded his clothes, his nose, so much so that he could just picture you and the soft, sweet smell would manifest around him.
“Oh, oh hyung.”
“Don’t look at me like that!” Seokjin shrieked as Jimin frowned.
His friends all sat quietly, sipping their drinks. Taehyung awkwardly stood up, stating he needed to use the bathroom before he exited the room.
“When did it start getting this serious for you?” Namjoon asked.
Seokjin’s eyebrows knit together. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We aren’t serious. We aren’t even together.”
“He means when did you start having feelings for her hyung? I know we said that none of us were accusing you of being in love with her, but are you sure that it’s just about sex, or friendship, or whatever it is you keep saying it is?”
Love. That word felt like fire in his brain. He couldn’t possibly love you. Not when he barely knew you. Not when he only just stood in your apartment for the first time, saw you asleep on him. What Seokjin knew about love was something faded and dusty, shoved under his bed in an old shoebox and hard to name. It had been so long since he felt the early feelings of life with Soon Yi.
Soon Yi. That was love, wasn’t it? The hot poker of constant chaos, being whisked away from one thing to another with pleasure and delight. Wasn’t that supposed to be what love was? He remembered ripping apart magazines with her in her dorm room to make a large collage that she created from top to bottom. All the colors swirling around them as they shredded page after page and refit together. Things clashed, patterns divided themselves into a kaleidoscope around her room. That was how Soon Yi was. A kaleidoscope of every color Seokjin had ever thought imaginable.
And she was like that for him too, when she laid underneath him that night, her body wrapped around his in every way imaginable, thrown from the bed to the floor as they christened every surface of that space imaginable.
With you, things weren’t able to be defined by colors. Instead, all Seokjin knew was that the heaviness and the intensity of first love wasn’t at all how he experienced you. No, you were like a fire that ignited in him, and he knew it. Scorched away every faded bit of that box under the bed and licked your flame along every part of him.
The way he so easily complied with you last night, despite the fact that he knew it would be bad for you both to be so close. Letting you lie on him while he sat there hard just by breathing in your sweetness. How his body responded like this was some first love despite the fact that it wasn’t, and he found himself changing the rules of his life every single time a sigh left your lips. That couldn’t be love, only fascination, only primal, sexual curiosity.
He’d admit his crush, but love? There was no way this could be it.
“No,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m…I’m not in love with her.”
“But–” Jungkook began, but Jimin silenced him with a look.
“No,” he repeated. “I’m not in love with her. I have a crush. And we’re friends. And yeah, I am really really ‘down bad’ for her like Yoongi said. But it’s not like that.”
Jungkook rubbed his eyes with the back of his fists, sighing in clear frustration.
“Alright, hyung,” Jimin said gently. “Alright.”
Just then, Seokjin’s phone pinged, and his heart plunged right into his stomach.
You were live? Now? Without him there?
That wasn’t in your agreement anyway. You agreed to help her stream. You helped her. Now she doesn’t need you.
That little bit of knowledge felt like a twisted knife, but he ignored it anyway, rapidly tapping the alert on his phone that led him to the app.
“What’s that about?” Hoseok asked.
His other friends repeated the question, filling the room with a hum of curiosity.
“Shut up!” he snapped, clicking the side button to turn up the volume.
“–and yeah sorry about not streaming last night. Time kind of slipped away from me. But I plan on making it up to you guys, I promise.” Your voice echoed throughout the living room, hushing Seokjin’s friends as they hunched forward to see what was the cause of his sudden irritation.
“Is that…?” Yoongi began.
“Yes,” Taehyung said as he waltzed back into the room, patting his damp hands on the back of his pants. “That’s her.”
“Oh, oh okay I get it now,” Namjoon said. “Leave it to hyung to be down bad for someone who dresses just like him.”
What? Seokjin squinted at the screen, taking in your appearance: your hair was loosely curled around your face, some juicy pink lip gloss that he knew tasted like strawberries (he’d smelled it on you before) glazing your mouth, and a black lace bustier that was barely being covered by a pink linen button down was peeking out. One that looked exactly like the one he was wearing last night.
“Because that is my shirt,” he replied, dazed.
“What?” Jimin said, hurling himself across the coffee table and yanking the phone from Seokjin’s hands.
Jungkook followed behind Jimin, resting his chin on his friend’s shoulder as he squinted at you on the screen. “Can we make it any bigger? I can’t see shit from here.”
“No!” Seokjin protested, but it was clear he wouldn’t win this argument.
“Wait, why does she have your shirt?” Yoongi asked as Jimin and Jungkook fumbled with the television setup to cast the stream.
Seokjin glared at his friend. Hoseok laughed, sliding into the spot next to him and offering him some shrimp chips.
“Who cares? The better question is why is she wearing it on her live stream over her lingerie?”
“Ah, true.”
Yoongi turned to Seokjin expectantly, like he would somehow know the reason. Honestly, he wondered the same.
You weren’t ready for this. You two had barely covered the basics yesterday. Why were you streaming when the arrangement was between the two of you to do this together? Did you just not want his help anymore? Or did all the talking and your panic attack yesterday make you rethink things?
What if you had really wanted him to leave last night or your emotions got the best of you and you regretted everything? Seokjin could feel the spiral of his thoughts starting to unwind as he tried to figure out what the explanation for this stream was.
“A-ha! Ok, we got it,” Jimin said as he clicked through the series of menu permissions to cast a larger version of you onto the screen.
You were reading your comments, lightly gnawing on your lip. Nerves, he realized.
“Oh, uh, yeah, we can play the same game as last time. We didn’t quite finish, did we?” You said, rolling your neck and flexing your shoulders. As you did, your breasts thrust further toward the camera, plush skin Seokjin dreamt of shoving his face into so many times now fully on display for all his friends.
“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook said from somewhere in the room. Seokjin had no clue. He couldn’t break his gaze as you giggled at something in your comments. He felt heat head south from his face.
“Jesus hyung.” Hoseok said. “I don’t know how you get through a workday with her without getting hard.”
“He doesn’t,” Taehyung added unhelpfully.
He heard the air behind him shift, before a soft thwack and Taehyung’s responding groan informed him that someone had thrown a pillow at him.
“Okay, so new rules,” you said.“From now on, if any of you say something super perverted, you’ll be unable to comment until the next stream. I’ll have my mods ban you from commenting. The only way you can get on my good side again and get yourself unbanned during a stream is if you fulfill something off of my wish list I added. You can type #springwishes and see all I’ve put on there. Sound good?” You smirked at your camera, a little bite of confidence spreading through you.
Seokjin’s chest clenched, a tiny bit of relief washing over him as he saw you get your bearings, the comments spamming that hashtag for the link to your wishlist, which he’d advised you to make as a form of incentive and distraction during moments when you felt overwhelmed. If people were getting into deep waters with a topic, you could always redirect to the wishlist, making it more of a prize for your viewers to partake in versus punishment.
“Alright, so let’s do this,” you said. “Game on.”
Maybe he was overreacting. In the last hour he and his friends spent intently watching your stream, you seemed to navigate your chat a little more with ease, or at least with redirection.
Yoongi had nodded off in his chair despite the earth-shattering moans your game was crying out as you tripped different combos. You were getting better at the game, and as you finished another level that gave you the prize of some more very not safe for work photos by your “girls”, a heavy yawn escaped through your lips.
Maybe you didn’t need his help after all. For what it’s worth, you seemed to be settling in comfortably to your performance aspect of the role, sometimes twirling bits of hair in your fingers, earning yourself half a dozen new subs and a few new things from your wishlist.
“Wow, we’re making good progress,” you said, reaching for your water bottle and pouting at your screen as you sipped from the straw.
The comments had become more mild during the game when you were fully immersed. Seokjin had been monitoring them closely, seeing your mod Wonwoo diligently screening spam out of the comments.
But now that your attention had shifted, they were being flooded once more with people vying for your attention.
Str3amballzak: Wanna fuk those tits
(Str3amballzak has been banned from the chat room)
Lickemup: sit on my face
(Lickemup has been banned from the chat room)
“And so it begins,” you said sarcastically, sipping more water from your straw as you switched your camera view to just you instead of the game.
(Str3amballzak has fulfilled wish list item number 7: new streaming headphones)
Str3amballzak: worth it
“You guys are working hard at getting yourself permanently banned,” you said, rolling your eyes. “But thanks I guess.”
Str3amballzak: ur welcome baby
Str3amballzak: ever do private streams?
“No, I don’t do private streams Mr. Ball Sack. Or Ball Zak? Anyway, do you want to go in time out again?”
Str3amballzak: fine ill behave.
Str3amballzak: daddy just wants to spoil u
Str3amballzak: u should put some other toys on that wish list ;)
Heat flooded Seokjin’s face as he read the chat messages fluttering by. This was going south quickly.
“Not your baby,” you said with a scoff. “And no thanks daddy. I’m good.”
“God, these dudes are gross. Is this the same kind of comments you get, Seokjin-hyung?” Jungkook asked.
“At first, kind of. But not much anymore. On occasion someone will try to dom me from the chat, but there’s a tip feature for that,’ he responded, eyebrows furrowed as he studied your face for any discomfort. Annoyance, sure, but you could handle that. His hands still hovered over his phone, ready to intervene in a moment’s notice.
(Lickemup has fulfilled wishlist item number 3: electric kettle)
Lickemup: something to keep you warm if it’s not my tongue in your pussy
(Lickemup has been banned from the chat room)
(Lickemup has fulfilled wishlist item number 0: mystery gift)
Lickemup: loophole?
“Oh,” you said, eyes going wide. “I…I didn’t know that was an option.”
Seokjin didn’t either. And he certainly didn’t know what a “mystery gift” was. What he did know was that this wishlist would mail you anything without giving away your address. But that meant it could be anything.
Uh oh.
User27271: wanna cum on your face
(User27271 has been banned from the chatroom)
(User27271 has fulfilled wish list item number 0: mystery gift)
User27271: hope you like pet play
(User27271 has been banned from the chat room)
User8008s: stroking my dick to your pretty face rn
(User8008s has been banned from the chatroom)
(User8008s has fulfilled wish list item number 0: mystery gift)
User8008s: 💦
“Jesus Christ, guys,” you said weakly as the chaos of the loophole began to take over your chat, dozens more accounts flooding the comments to do the work around, plunging into the raunchiest of comments before being banned, then fulfilling some mystery gift before being banned again, this time for good. Seokjin looked at the view counter in the corner. It was rising exponentially.
He could see how quickly your control was leaving you, the glassiness of your eyes and shakiness of your voice as you fought to reel in your chat leading you toward the verge of a breakdown.
“Is there any way to turn that feature off?” Jungkook asked helplessly, his eyes wide as another onslaught of cyber attacks began.
“I don’t know, I didn’t even know it had this option,” Seokjin said, his voice tight as he helplessly watched you begin to shrink away from the spotlight he had spent hours with you yesterday practicing to do the exact opposite in.
You pulled the shirt tighter across your body, and that seemed to spring him into action: you there in his shirt, this chaotic chat undoing the work you’d done in a matter of minutes. Fuck those people.
“There has to be something we can do,” Jimin said, and Namjoon whipped out his phone, searching up the parameters of the wish list site you had used.
“Tell her to just have her mods turn the entire feature off in the meantime,” Hoseok said, tapping his foot anxiously.
Seokjin nodded, typing the message into the chat box.
JokeJinSeokjin: Turn off your the gifting feature
But his comment was lost in the slew of the chat. He knew there was no way you would see it.
“She definitely isn’t going to see that!” Taehyung groaned.
“Call her, hyung. You have her number,” Yoongi said, his voice gravelly from just waking up.
Right, a phone call. He could do that.
Seokjin opened his contact list and dialed your number. He knew you kept your phone on silent during your stream, but in a moment of luck, you looked down, where he assumed your phone was at and hastily pressed the accept call button.
“Hello?” Your voice sounded like a wild echo through the TV; the sound delay was just enough to warp you.
Seokjin stood and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He didn’t even bother turning on the light, something about the isolation away from his friends and the darkness feeling like a comfort, like you two were in your own little world and not being put on blast in front of thousands.
“Turn off your chat commands. Now,” he ordered.
“Oh, uh, I don’t know how,” you said, then groaned. “Guys please I don’t want any of this. Get it the fuck together.” You paused. “What do you mean who am I talking to on the phone? It’s none of your goddamn business.”
“Y/N,” Seokjin warned. You needed to stop engaging.
“I know! I know, okay?” you snapped, and Seokjin nodded, even though you couldn’t see him. You took a shaky breath after a moment. “Are you watching?”
“I was but I needed my phone to call you so I’m not right now. Why? Is something happening?”
“No it’s just–never mind. I have set myself on away and muted so I can unlink this option. Wonwoo is turning off the chat completely for me.”
“Good,” he responded and opened a browser window, typing in his query. “Okay I looked it up and you need to click the right toggle in your stream settings and scroll down until you see ‘outside links’ and then–”
“Slower, please!” You said exasperated.
“You can always turn the whole stream off,” he said gently and you huffed in response.
You paused for a beat. “I don’t want to. I was fine before this whole thing started. I want to do this.” You sounded like you were on the verge of crying. He knew this meant a lot to you. So much of the first few stream’s success determines your future. He knew this. Saw it happen in his own online presence. If you lost a lot of followers tonight, you’d probably not regain them. And then your payout at the end of the month would be a fraction of what you were receiving.
“Okay. Yes. Then let’s take a deep breath,” he said, taking a deep breath of his own for you to follow. He heard the soft inhale through the receiver, and smirked.
“Now let’s get you all set up. See that toggle on the right?”
You hummed a response. “I think so.”
“Okay, now go down. You see the external link options?”
A pause. “Can’t you just do it for me?” You whined and Seokjin laughed.
“I could but I’m across town at a friend’s house. It would be easy if you do it yourself.”
He wanted to kick himself for saying that. Because he would be out the door in a heartbeat, would Uber or sprint toward you. But by the time he got there, it would be too late. Too much chaos was happening at once, and this needed to stop now.
“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to keep you—“
Seokjin clicked his tongue. “None of that, now. Focus.”
If he did show up at your house to help, he also knows what would happen next. After the momentary panic was over, you would be pissed that you didn’t handle things on your own. At work, however big the mess, you were always insistent on doing it yourself. Here was no exception.
After a few clicks he heard a gasp. “Got it!”
“Good job, princess. You did well.”
“Oh…thank you. Not without your help though,” you said meekly.
He knew you were running out of time. In a few minutes, you’d be back to kick ass in your stream, and life would go on. So he chose his next few words carefully.
“I thought you wanted me to be there for your first stream.”
“I..well…I did, but I felt guilty and like I had to stream tonight. I didn’t want to bother you, but it looks like I did that anyway, huh?”
“You’re not bothering me, ever. You asked for my help with this.”
“And you did! You helped so much.”
An awkward silence fell between you two as Seokjin thought. He exhaled roughly.
“So, what now? Are you just trying to get rid of me or something? Did I do something wrong?” His voice shook, the hurt he tried to conceal penetrated through the evenness of his tone.
“No! No it’s not like that,” you said quickly. “I just, I feel like I had to.”
“Had to what?”
“Stream. I felt bad and like I owed it to them today.”
“Why?”
“I…I don’t know really,” you said softly. “Because I’m desperate for the cash. And that sounds awful I know. But I want to make sure that when summer term comes around, I am ready for it financially. And my parents have been calling me a lot and I just…I’m sorry. Are you mad at me?”
He could hear the edge of your voice as you got more worked up, your last word cracking slightly like you were trying not to cry.
“No, no I’m not mad, Y/N.”
“Are you sure? Because I know you are helping and you already are spending time with me and it’s not like you don’t have other things to take care of! Like you had to work this morning and I got a text from Mino saying he caught you asleep in your office snoring. I didn’t tell him it was because of me, but god, if I could get this shit together, your services wouldn’t be necessary.”
“I’m not mad. Really, I think you’re trying to find reasons for me to be mad at you but I’m not. And don’t worry about my sleep schedule. It was one night out. I’m not that old for one night not sleeping in my bed to ruin my entire life.”
You hummed in response.
“Listen, Y/N, I chose to stay out all night knowing I had to open today. You might be persuasive but you aren’t that good to manipulate me into anything. I was there because I wanted to be there. Okay?”
You hummed again.
“I need some kind of verbal acknowledgement other than ‘hmm’.”
“Sorry. Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“I was listening!”
“I know you were, that’s not why I’m asking.”
You sighed. “Fine, okay I am not manipulating you. You wanted to be here.” You paused. “Seokjin?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t know if I can go back.. Like, what do I do? I’ve already been gone for ten minutes and Wonwoo is blowing up my texts and…” Your voice broke, and he could hear the quiet sound of you crying.
“Hey, breathe, princess. It’s okay. You can always just turn your computer off. The people watching were assholes.”
“Not all of them,” you muttered back. “God what is wrong with me?”
Seokjin turned on the light to the bathroom. His clothes were crumpled, heavy circles under his puffy eyes and disheveled hair making him look like some washed up finance guy. Honestly, he looked a lot like how he used to back when he did work in finance.
“Nothing is wrong with you, and you know it. You’re perfect. A mess, and really bad at remembering to put the pickled radishes back in the fridge when you’re done with them, but that’s still pretty great all things considered.”
He heard a chuckle on the other end. “Yeah, I’m such a winner. Ugh, I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do.”
“Let me help, then,” he offered.
You took a deep breath. “Okay, what do I do?”
He chuckled. “I’m not going to decide that for you. That’s something you need to figure out. But, I’ll give you a few options. First, you can just shut your computer down completely and not apologize, not explain yourself. Your chat and any good subscribers that you actually want to have around will understand. You’re forgetting that there were thousands of people watching, and the loudest ones were the trolls, but they weren’t the only ones there.
“The other option,” Seokjin cleared his throat. “Is that you can go back out there, finish the stream, leave your comments off, and do what you want to do. I can’t guarantee it’ll be as lucrative but you will at least won’t be engaging with those idiots anyway.”
He let you mull it over, opening the medicine cabinet and rifling through his friends’ things. Eyedrops, god, his eyes were on fire from these contact lenses. He had a pair of glasses in his work bag, but they were a little old and frankly kind of stupid looking.
“Okay, I think…I think I want to try again. And like you said, I’ll keep the comments off this time.”
“That’s my girl,” Seokjin sighed as he squirted some solution into his burning eyes. Then he paused. “I mean, uh, you know. Good job.”
You chuckled on the other end. God he really needed to monitor himself better. Something about his conversations with you were becoming less careful by the hour.
“Thanks, I know what you meant. And thank you again.”
You paused again. “Is there something wrong, Y/N?” Seokjin asked.
“Well, it’s just. I want to do this, I do. But I’m not. God I don’t know, it's like I’m frozen in place. I just feel like there’s so many things I need you to show me before I get good at this.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. How to be sexy without ruining my career, how to just dust everything off and get back out there. That’s what you do all the time! With uh, with work and everything.”
Seokjin chuckled a little. Dusting things off was hardly something he was good at, but he did know how important it was to get back out there. He wasn’t quite sure what you’d meant in relation to work since that wasn’t really a space for it, but that wasn’t his focus. Instead it was on something else.
“You…think I’m sexy?”
“Oh, uh…yeah duh. Don’t let it go to your head though, everyone thinks that.”
Seokjin could think of quite a few people who didn’t think that, actually.
“Fine, fine, I’ll let it slide. And you’re right, it is important to just dust things off and move on. But that’s just one thing that I want to show you. There’s so many other things for you to learn.”
So many things. He felt proud knowing that you were doing this on your own, even after this hiccup; it meant that you were doing exactly what he’d tried to teach you yesterday. Even if you faltered once. It was impressive. And he couldn’t help but think of how much you were going to grow from this experience, how many doors it opened up for you, for both of you to forge a stronger connection. He wanted to show you all sorts of things, not just with streaming, but with him. How after seeing your apartment and couch with a dent in it, he wanted you to create a dent in his couch as you read books from your collection. Or that even in his large chef’s kitchen he had in his luxury apartment, he could stand side-by-side next to you prepping more carrots for other foods.
Maybe cake this time. And when you inevitably spilled ingredients all over the place like you did at work, globs of cream cheese frosting on your cheeks, he’d laugh and find it endearing as you always were, and try not to think about your tongue doing more naughty things to him as you lick it off of your fingers. How you clearly had a little stubborn bratty streak in you that liked to tease and tempt him, and without a doubt you would spend an extra long and thorough job making sure he had a front row seat to you sucking your fingers into your mouth. Just like how you knew you were sitting in that apartment of yours right now, his pink shirt wrapping around your large perfect tits. What were you wearing on the bottom of that ensemble, even? That bustier that was so goddamn tantalizing. Did it have matching panties? Were you wearing those too? He knew you well enough to know you were probably wearing some kind of jogger bottom since people didn’t get to see your fantastic ass in the camera view.
Good. That was something Seokjin didn’t have to feel jealous of. They could get their fill of your breasts on this stream, but he knew what that soft tummy looked like, how those strong, thick thighs looked in leggings and joggers and most recently, tiny pajama shorts. Thinking back to last night, the way those hiked up your thighs to your little panty line, how soft the skin looked. Would your thighs be just as soft if they were straddling his head? He could only imagine how delicious they would look after he left little nip-marks on them, suckling the flesh just enough to hear your breathing increase, to get you shifting all needy and antsy as you got more needy and impatient. Just as he would want you so that you would rub that wet pussy right on his face and–
“Are you still there?” you said, and Seokjin’s breath caught in his chest, causing him to cough.
“Yes, I’m sorry,” he rasped. He heard you chuckle low in response, and fuck. Something about how sexy your voice sounded had his cock throbbing. “I got, uh, distracted. What did you say?”
“Oh….uh, never mind.” You paused. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong but your voice flooded through the receiver again. “I don’t want to take you away from your friends any longer. I think I’ve got things for now, but thank you again.”
His heart sank with disappointment that absolutely should not have been there. “Ah, right. Of course. Well, then I’ll let you get back to it.”
“Um, on second thought,” you said suddenly, and his ears pricked up. “Do you…do you think you could come by just in case things get out of hand again? Do you want to? If not it’s okay but––”
“I’ll be over in thirty minutes,” he said eagerly.
Seokjin was already throwing open the bathroom door and barreling down the hall, his friends all shifting from the TV where your away message was cast and onto him. Jimin’s eyebrows raised in question. Taehyung grinned at his friend devilishly, winking and nudging Jungkook.
“Okay,” you breathed, relieved. “Good.”
“Good?”
“Mhmm. See you soon.” Your voice sounded lower, huskier. If there was any ability to think anymore, he would think you were trying to sound sexy and flirty.
“Yes, okay. See you.” As he hung up, Seokjin felt himself smiling at his phone, his heart feeling a bit fuller, more awake.
“I’m uh, I’m going to go over there. There’s some stuff she wants me to keep an eye on,” he announced.
He looked over at his friends. Namjoon attempted some form of polite nodding and understanding, but it quickly broke as everyone else erupted into laughter.
“Yah! What is it now? Were you guys eavesdropping or something?”
“We were,” Yoongi said between breaths, “but it wasn’t like you were having a particularly interesting conversation.” He dabbed tears from his eyes.
“Except the part where you called her princess. Phew you’re whipped.” Hoseok added.
Seokjin rolled his eyes, reaching down into the couch to find his keys that had been eaten by the cushion upon his arrival. “It just slipped out.”
“Yeah, well, you might want to take a breather before you head out, hyung.” Jungkook avoided eye contact with Seokjin, a blush rushing to his cheeks.
“And why is that?” Seokjin asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. Because your Big Dick Daddy boner is so incredibly obvious right now that I’m not sure it’ll be you keeping an eye on Y/N when it’s more likely she’ll be keeping an eye on you.”
Seokjin looked down and as if on cue, his dick twitched. He tried to adjust himself. His friends roared around him, even Jimin trading his careful composure in for hilarity as he threw himself to the floor.
“Fuck you guys.” Seokjin said as he headed toward the door.
“Not us, but maybe you tonight!” Taehyung called. “I’m sure Y/N will be singing ‘Hey Daddy’ when you walk in!”
Seokjin was already out the door, but he could hear the first few bars of the Usher song playing, and despite himself, he smiled.
When Seokjin arrives, you have already explained to your chat that if they want to have any privileges at all, they’ll stop being asshats. That is a boundary you can more easily create, something less wavering than the control needed to essentially domme your chat.
You’re not a domme. Not even close.
“Be right back,” you say to your screen, kicking on the away message. You glance at your phone. Only about twenty minutes left until you’re ready to end things. Hopefully not too long to make Seokjin wait.
“Hey,” you say, opening the door. His dark hair is disheveled, bags under his eyes. He looks like hell. You fight the urge to immediately turn him around and send him back home.
He’s tired but his smile is still adorable and wide as he steps into the door of your apartment, discarding his shoes.
“Hi,” he says softly.
“Thanks for coming. I’m going to wrap my stream up soon, but I was thinking maybe we could debrief after?”
He nods and plops himself down on your couch like he’s been here dozens of times before, not just once.
“Yeah, of course. I’ll just be in here if you need me.”
“Are you going to watch the stream?” You ask, suddenly feeling self conscious. It’s one thing if Seokjin watches your stream when you’re not there, but the idea of him seeing you in lingerie and playing some sexy game is kind of intimate.
You in lingerie and his fucking shirt, that is.
“Well, I thought about it. It’s probably the only way I can really understand what’s going on in case you need me. I’ve brought my earbuds so you don’t get feedback from the other room or have to hear your own voice delayed. So we should be good.”
The idea of earbuds does sound a little bit more practical and distancing.
“Okay, yeah. Oh, and um, about your shirt…” Seokjin looks down from your face, scanning your body with his eyes. You feel heat lick over the places his gaze follows, down your collar bone and the curve of your hips and back up to the swell of your breasts that spill over your bustier. This is where his stare hovers for a moment, and it’s almost maddening, like he’s undressing you with his eyes. It stirs something deep in your core, pricking your nipples a bit to start becoming hard. The lace of the bustier is too thick and it’s lined to avoid exposing anything, but it doesn’t matter.
Seokjin is looking at you like he wants to eat you, and it’s turning you on impossibly fast.
“Keep it,” he offers after a moment, his eyes flitting away from your chest. His ears are turning slightly red. “It looks good on you.”
“Thank you.” It’s all you can offer in response. You clasp your hands together in front of you, the soft linen of his shirt skirting around your naked thighs. The shorts you wore to bed last night were all you could find to throw on with this getup that were clean and comfortable enough for a few hours of streaming. They’re a bit too short, but you figured no one on stream would see them.
You didn’t really consider that Seokjin would see them again, or really ever, and now you’re realizing how much skin you are showing.
“I’ll uh, get back to it I guess,” you say and Seokjin nods, now appearing more engrossed in setting up his phone with the stream than talking to you about it or paying attention to what you’re wearing, or the lack of it.
You scoot off to your room, shutting the door quietly behind you and sinking down into your chair.
You hit the settings for the away message to turn off and unmute.
“Alright, we are winding down for the night. Thanks to everyone who stayed with me to the end, I appreciate it.”
Your comment section responds in kind, with thanks for you continuing to stream through the chaos.
“Before I leave, though. I figured we can play a few more levels of the game. We have to make sure Candy has enough magic wands to unlock the special bonus game. Although, can I just say that picking wands was a weird choice? Don’t you normally just need one to get the job done? Why not something else, like different shaped dildos or something. Honestly, a little more variety in size and shape can’t hurt.”
After a few seconds of delay, you hear a boom of laughter in the living room. His laughter is infectious, and it blooms a large grin on your face.
“So here’s the plan. I’m going to unlock this bonus level tonight and then we’ll see what the hype is about during the next stream, okay?”
The chat has calmed itself, and you’re glad you tested having it turned back on instead of totally following Seokjin’s advice earlier. Maybe his streams still function if he doesn’t have his comments on, but you know most of your royalties are given from moments of engagement; your parasocial relationship with your subscribers is based on more conversation than the actual thing you’re doing. It’s how you’ve gotten this far without being good at video games. No one seems to care when you get stuck on the same level each time if you at least have engaging conversation.
JokeJinSeokjin: I’m hungry. Do you want me to order jjajangmyeon?
You smirk at your screen and nod, then answer a few questions your chat has initiated.
“Why did I decide to do a Late Night stream? I needed to change things up. You guys all started to follow me after Wonwoo’s stream and I feel like there’s only so many games I can play with the same kind of commentary before we all get sick of it.”
JokeJinSeokjin: What about mandu? The delivery minimum is way too high so we need to get something else.
A chuckle leaves your lips and you nod again, redirecting yourself to the chat once more. Someone asks how you’re feeling about continuing streaming in this way.
“Uhh, I would say that most of the streams so far have been a little crazy, right? It’s…doing this is hard. I’m hoping the more I do it the more things will start to chill out. I’m sorry to anyone who was offended by the comment section earlier. I didn’t mean for things to get so out of hand.”
JokeJinSeokjin: Food is ordered. Will be here in 30. 😋
Springin2Luv: @ JokeJinSeokjin who are you? I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend S.D.?
Your face heats as you prepare for the onslaught of drama this will cause, but then you’re shockingly surprised at Seokjin’s response.
JokeJinSeokjin: Just a good friend to make sure S.D. is fed and for another stream.
JokeJinSeokjin: Anyway 28 minutes until food time so hurry up and finish this level!
You laugh. “Well, you heard the man, let’s get back to the game.”
Twenty eight minutes later exactly, Seokjin knocks on your door. “The food is here! I’m starving. Are you done yet?”
You put the game on pause. “If you were watching the stream like you said you were, you would know that I’m not done with this level and am in fact stuck.”
“Well excuse me for not staring intently and absorbing every detail when I’m this hungry. I’m going to open everything and eat it all before you!”
“Go right ahead! You’re the one who wanted it so badly,” you call back, teasing. Though the second you finish the sentence, the warm smell of the crispy dumplings wafts into your room, Seokjin lightly creaking the door open and fanning the delivery bowl in your direction.
He raises an eyebrow, challenging you as he takes one bite into one, mocking before his face contorts into pain.
“Aish!!! It’s fucking HOT,” he yelps, and he drops the remaining dumpling back into the bowl, some of the green stuffing spilling throughout.
“Well yeah, what did you expect!?”
“Not for it to be so goddamn burning hot!” He fans his tongue for good measure, and you can see even from your desk the slight red tinge some of his taste buds have taken.
“There’s ice in the freezer. I’ll wrap this up now,” you sigh and shoo him away before turning back to your screen. “Well, you all probably heard that exchange, so I’m going to pause here. Sorry we didn’t get to beat it, but I’ll try again next time.”
You read over some of your farewell comments from your chat. But one really sticks with you.
Babybibi: I feel like I know that voice from somewhere.
Your stomach drops, but you remain composed, pretending you don’t recognize the comment. It never dawned on you that Seokjin’s fans could really be anywhere. Does he realize that? Is that why he safely stayed out of the camera’s reach? You’re not sure.
By the time you have signed off, Seokjin has managed to plate both of your meals and get you drinks from the fridge. He’s plopped a throw pillow onto the floor to sit on at the beat up coffee table so you can sit in your regular couch spot.
“I learned my lesson with that couch yesterday. It eats people.”
“Oh yeah yeah, I know. Thank you, this looks great.” You blow on one of the mandu before popping into your mouth. Even after arriving ten minutes ago, it’s still crisp and hot. Meaning however hot it was for Seokjin must have been volcanic. “How’s your tongue?”
He pouts, sloshing some ice water around in his mouth before opening it to stick out his pink tongue. “It hawtsth,” he says with his tongue still lolled out.
You chuckle. “Oh poor baby, do I need to kiss it and make it all better?”
Seokjin shifts a little at the question, and you realize immediately the error in what you’ve just suggested. An image of the two of you drums up in your mind, you sucking each other’s tongues, an ice cube swapping from one mouth to the other as it melts. Nothing about this is even intimate; it’s just pure filth. And based on the matching redness in Seokjin’s ears, it’s clear his brain has gone somewhere similar.
He finally rolls his tongue back between his plush lips and you sit awkwardly, suddenly unable to remember how to function.
Seokjin makes the move to end the awkward pause, taking his chopsticks into his grasp and pulling out a large glob of noodles, shoveling it into his mouth.
Right, food. Your stomach gurgles at the prospect and Seokjin raises an eyebrow at you as he chews, his eyes flashing down to your stomach.
“Eat,” he instructs, so you do, following his commands to finish your dumpling and move on to your generous pile of noodles.
How is he able to just push past the awkward and not have it freeze him in place the way it does with you? As you slurp your food down, you can’t help but study him, so effortlessly comfortable to sit in silence in your apartment after playing games about sex workers.
You shouldn’t be surprised, you guess. Because Seokjin is a sex worker. He’s incredibly nonchalant about all of what you’re doing, no judgment to smudge this dynamic.
If your old friends, or even your parents knew about you doing this, what would they think?
Nothing good, you assume.
It’s not that you were raised in an environment that was all helplessly ignorant about sex and bodies. You’d had sex. Your parents sat you down when you had your first period and explained every single detail about the human body and reproduction to you. It was painful and scientific, so divorced from the intimacy of what sex really is that it didn’t present itself to be much of an interest or issue until, well, you felt the first licks of desire.
Those started as dreams. Ones where you would be heavily kissing and exploring the body of whoever you were crushing on at the time. The first one started with Wonwoo, after having spent all summer at the library memorizing the thin curve of his upper lips as he squinted to read the books in front of him. You would feel the heat of your core shifting you in your chair as you grew more intrigued, more curious about how his lips would feel on yours, what he would taste like. How his soft hands would feel if he actually held yours, not just the accidental brush when you would walk side-by-side back toward your neighborhood, where you would drop him off at the shop before slugging your way back through that sticky, angry heat that only added more to your discomfort.
That was the first summer you started masturbating. And it was so awkward in some ways, trying to learn what you liked and how you liked it but also wondering why you liked it, why you liked Wonwoo in a way that was no longer so innocent and picturesque but scarier, more real.
Your parents caught you, probably as every parent does at some point and just pretends they didn’t notice. Yours, however, made it clear that they knew. And while they never said anything beyond mentioning it once or twice, it felt humiliating. As if you were supposed to be above attraction and sex and pleasure. It was more in how your parents acted after this point that has given you enough insight to imagine how they would react if they knew what you did now.
No direct words spoken, just blank, glaring looks and sneers. Just them ogling you like you had told them you murdered someone. Shame, in all the nooks and crannies of what it is.
As for your friends, besides Wonwoo, they’ve all moved on. You had been so curious as a teenager, and wanted to know so much more. Yet, no one ever talked about sex. Some of them had dated through teen years. All of them dated someone in college except you. Sex was happening all around you and yet it was some forbidden topic. Even with Wonwoo after a while. You have a feeling you would have a next to near impossible time explaining what you are doing to those friends, and if Wonwoo wasn’t a streamer, you’re sure he wouldn’t fully get it either.
But Seokjin understands. This is his life, this is so natural to him that he can sit in front of you after a long day and lazily smile with the knowledge that you are wearing lingerie underneath his shirt.
“What are you thinking about?” He asks thoughtfully, and you blink, realizing that for the last few minutes you’ve been watching his gorgeous full lips, studying how his tongue peeks out to wipe away some of the sauce.
“Lips,” you answer in your haze.
“Ah,” he chides, and you blink away the memory.
“What?” You ask.
“Well, my lips are some of the best of them.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Given how long you were staring at me, I would bet that you were thinking they are. Don’t worry Y/N, go right ahead and get a good look.” He winks.
“You’re so full of yourself.”
“Well, at least I’m full of something. I haven’t seen you take more than a few bites of food. Quit stalling and eat your damn dinner.”
“You know, you’re pretty bossy.”
“I guess that’s why I’m the boss.”
“Time and place. This isn’t the restaurant. Maybe it’s my house and I call the shots.”
He gestures around. “Well then, by all means. What are your commands.”
“For you to stop being a tool.”
Seokjin cackles. “Oh, that’s an insult I haven’t heard since middle school.”
“Well, is it any less efficient? I think it serves its purpose.”
“I think you’re still stalling.”
“Fine!”
You twirl a large pile of noodles around your chopsticks and shovel them into your mouth. “Thewere. Hawppy?”
“Immensely so,” Seokjin says, his eyes twinkling.
You don’t have the fight in you to argue anymore. The warm, savory noodles are so chewy and delicious, and the salt on your tongue is reminding you how deplenished you are from the energy of the stream.
You eat in silence, until the heaviness of your limbs has scattered to mostly just the heaviness of your full stomach.
You lean back against the sofa on your final chew, groaning when you’ve finished.
“Ugh, that was so good.”
“I told you. I’m a genius for suggesting it.”
“You got lucky and picked the best place in this neighborhood.”
Seokjin scoffs. “Excuse you. Might I remind you of a humble restaurant that is also technically in this neighborhood?”
“And does this place serve jajjangmyeon at one a.m. on a weekday?”
“No.”
“Then my point still stands,” you say.
Seokjin sighs and then follows up with a yawn that you can’t help but catch.
“So, debrief time. Before either of us fall asleep.”
“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. You can go home and rest. I can’t imagine you got much sleep today.”
“Hardly any at all, but you can’t get rid of me so easily.” Seokjin smirks. “Let’s talk about the stream.”
“Well, you caught most of it.”
“Yes, and I think it’s worth talking about.”
You mull it over for a minute, how you felt as the onslaught of gifted sex toys seemed to flood the chat, the overwhelm not really of the thing itself but the assertion over a boundary you were trying to place. Why was this so hard for you to do?
“I think I still feel so much like an imposter. I don’t know a lot about gaming, but I’m gaming. I’m not at all sexy enough to have a stream that does sexy stuff, so I feel like I’m just…” You shrug.
He opens his mouth, but then stops himself, nodding for you to finish.
“I don’t know, I just don’t want to fall for the pressure of being what everyone wants me to be. Which is, this role of the fat funny streamer. Like, every single trope in fiction has the side friend be fat and funny as some comedic relief. And because people wanted me to stream because I was so ‘funny’. Or they just see me as something to fuck because if I’m not completely sexless I have to be basically a pocket pussy for someone. All so I can make money. It’s so fucked.”
“But…you aren’t just a character in fiction, Y/N.” Seokjin reaches across the table, grazing his thumb over the back of your pinky knuckle. “You’re real. You feel things. You feel this, don’t you?”
You nod.
“So if this is the choice, to keep streaming for some financial goal, then who is it you want to be? You’re sure of what you don’t want, which is a good place to start. But what next? You have a choice.”
You pause. You have a choice.
In all of this, has it ever really felt that way? From the start, streaming was so rooted in financial stability. And because of that, it’s been so much heavier when you are forced into a performer role that you don’t want to partake in. It never occurred to you that you could actually control any of it.
But you suppose that’s what Seokjin does when he streams. He gives his audience some version of himself that he has a say in, control over.
“I…I guess I don’t know. I have never really thought about this being a choice.”
He nods, then stands, stretching his arms over his head. “Maybe that’s where you start. Trying to figure out who it is you want to be. And owning her. Whoever she is. Whether she wants to be funny or sexy or a combination of the two. If she wants to give up streaming and find another thing, or go full steam ahead and become the top streamer on the internet. You get to decide.”
After dinner–and trying not to stare at your breasts– Seokjin helped you wash the dishes, talked a bit more about your plans for the next stream, and then he left. He knew he was risking another impromptu sleepover and after your debrief, he wanted to make sure you had the space you needed to sit with the idea of choosing this for yourself.
He knew all too well how important that was. Two years ago, in the same position, it was something he also had to decide: which parts of him stayed with him when he streamed and which parts he hid so he could keep them for himself. It wasn’t an easy choice. He still felt it creep up sometimes when he streamed, constantly vigilant of the words leaving his mouth so he didn’t ever give too much away.
Even when his friends were in the chat, he tried to not call attention to them by name. Similar to how you were on your stream. He wished he could be honest with you and tell you that this part never gets easier. Regardless of how much you wanted to share with others, there was the unfortunate reality that in order to maintain any sense of discretion and honor on the worldwide web, regardless of the type of streaming, the boundary between you and your audience would always lead to disconnection and loneliness. Conversely, you also were not ever going to be totally private and anonymous again. At some point, there was a tipping point where you would never again just be you. The digital footprint was permanent.
And in this limbo, as time moved on and winter finally melted into Spring, the pressure was on for Seokjin. He considered telling you that he was a sex cam streamer. He had felt it on the tip of his tongue that night, but in the many nights that have since followed, fighting against the decision to just tell you so you could move through it and potentially build a more realistic and relatable plan based on his own experiences and the potential betrayal you might have felt when you learned of the ways he wasn’t at all morally superior for doing things for money. Would you judge him for wanting better for you?
Moreover, would you be able to live with knowing that your friend–your boss– did gay sex streams? It just felt too delicate at this point to bring up, so Seokjin shoved it down inside of him, just like he did with his audience every time he hit the countdown to go live.
And unfortunately, in the last few months he’d only streamed a handful of times, which resulted in a significant decrease in engagement and therefore, income.
But between working at the restaurant and then coming over to sit in the other room as you streamed, his time was limited.
He was tired. You streamed late into the early hours of the morning, and unlike him, you didn’t work full time. On the days you did have the early shift in the morning, you somehow seemed rested, clearly used to the chaotic structure of your regular gaming streams that might have occurred the night before. You’d decided to do a brief pause on late night themed streams until you had a better game plan. And to the surprise of both you and Seokjin, your followers were supportive. So you would stream regular games in the late night slots on occasion, and Seokjin would sit on as an honorary mod despite the exhaustion. Granted, those nights you often fell asleep before Seokjin had even left your apartment, and he would gently nudge you awake as you drifted off on the couch, prodding you to go take off your makeup and looking on fondly as you thanked him sleepily before crashing on your bed.
One day in early May, though, everything that was delicately woven into the balance of things began fraying at the edges.
Seokjin had woken up to a grateful text from you thanking him for coming over the night before, and had sent a follow up invitation.
You 7:59AM: You can say no, but do you maybe want to go get dinner tonight when you’re done with work?
Seokjin 8:00AM: Of course I’m going to say yes. Any suggestions where?
You 8:15AM: What about that restaurant that you told me about?
Seokjin 8:17AM: The Mediterranean one? With a month-long waitlist?
You 8:18AM: Shit. I forgot about that. 😓
Seokjin 8:19AM: Wait a second. BRB
Seokjin 8:32AM: Ok I got a reservation for 10:30. I know that’s pretty late but that’s all I could get. Kitchen closes at midnight though so we should be fine.
You 8:32AM: HOW???
Seokjin 8:32AM: Head chef went to school with my brother.
Seokjin 8:33AM: They weren’t that close. If they were, we would probably have an earlier time.
You 8:33AM: I don’t care! I’ll just eat before I go. It’ll be a fourth meal type of situation
Seokjin 8:35AM: We can also go somewhere else
You 8:36AM: NO. 😡 Do not take this away from me. I already decided what I want from the menu. We are going.
Seokjin 8:37AM: LOL. Ok. I’ll come get you before? 10?
You 8:38AM: 👍
Seokjin smiled to himself, finally getting himself out of bed and ready for the day. He had a lot of work to do. When he opened his emails to get started, he saw an email from Worldwide Handsome. He opened it, his stomach sinking as he processed the words.
Dear User Jin,
We at Worldwide Handsome appreciate the streams you have trusted us to host for the last two years. In this last financial quarter, we have successfully increased our outreach to new targeted consumers, both from members of the LGBTQ community and their allies. In part, we have you to thank for this success. Your continued participation in WWH’s Partnership program has taken us to new heights for pleasurable camming and stimulation experiences. Among our competitors, we have maintained our position as one of the top pornographic live cam websites, with your stream being one of the most engaged with to-date.
However, in the last two months, the algorithmic engagement of WWH’s live shows has significantly plummeted. In conducting market research, we found that in this quarter, we have had a staggering 11% decrease in consistent viewership, subscription renewal, and ad revenue. While there are many contributing factors, it has come to our attention that one overlapping factor might be one of the major contributing factors to this financial loss. In most of our data, it was User Jin’s channel that demonstrated the largest risk among our partners, primarily due to your lack of consistent streaming over the last few months.
While we are grateful for your continued dedication to Worldwide Handsome, we regret to inform you that should your channel continue to trend downward in market data over the next 30 days, we will terminate your contract with us as Partner. If this should happen, we still welcome you to continue utilizing the basic features of Worldwide Handsome. You will still retain a generous commission rate, the ability to publish past livestreams to your channel, stream clipping functions, gifting, and more. If you would like to learn more details about the basic features provided with Worldwide Handsome, please visit the FAQ page on our website.
Once again, we are grateful for your ongoing support over the years. We at WWH are grateful to you and the many other streamers who continue to make sex a global artform that we can proudly stand behind. If you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to reach out.
Sincerely,
Worldwide Handsome Partners
Dropped from the partner program? His partnership with the website was what provided the groundwork for any sort of financial stability while streaming. It not only provided consistent scheduled payouts, but the commission retention was one of the highest in the industry. People were desperate to be part of the partner program, even if it belonged within the confines of gay sex streaming. And until this quarter, Seokjin had been leading the trend, securing his place within the company. But now, because of his neglect, it was being threatened out from under him.
On top of it, the money pit of the restaurant was at it again; a sewer line bursting a few blocks away had caused flooding and an electrical malfunction a month ago, which resulted in a transformer blowing and frying his computer with all the records. His parents had been tech savvy enough to digitize everything, but clearly not enough to have learned to back up things onto the cloud instead of leaving them on the harddrive.
For the last few weeks, he’d been shuffling documents back and forth between his laptop and the new system, begging his father to learn how to sign a PDF through some YouTube tutorial that only resulted in his father taking a fuzzy picture of the document in a poorly lit hallway of the cruise ship and sending it back over this morning with a text:
Here you go! Hope this is okay. Probably won’t have a connection for a while. Talk next week.
It was not in fact okay, and Seokjin was now considering just forging his father’s signature to get the new insurance forms authorized as soon as possible. The financial burden of what the restaurant was doing was starting to feel more like damnation and less of an investment. With each week drawing nearer to his parents' return, he began worrying that they wouldn’t be able to handle all the things that had become urgent needs.
He had a month to get it together. Otherwise, he could kiss both of his careers goodbye. With his father just adding to the slew of problems, today he was at his wit’s end. He was beyond stressed and in desperate need of release.
Which is why when he logged onto Worldwide Handsome after a particularly frustrating call with the electrical company, he found himself falling naturally into his old persona easily.
“I needed this,” he said to his audience, watching the bottom of the screen as the numbers slowly trickled in. It wasn’t nearly as many people as he had gotten accustomed to seeing you entertaining during your stream nights, and for some reason that felt intimidating to Seokjin. How you were able to secure an audience without needing to get naked, one that was flexible with you in ways that his audience could never be. He felt a tinge of jealousy at the thought.
BGood4Daddy: Missed u pretty boy
He watched the comments flit by, many of them taking on the same sub-dom dynamic he usually played as. Some asked where he’d been, but most of them were just horny messages begging for him to act out their fantasies.
His stomach twisted. Somehow he’d forgotten this was how things went.
“Missed you too. Missed all of you. It’s been crazy lately,” he said. He palmed himself casually through his slacks, trying to convince himself to get into the mood.
The tips started to slowly trickle in, starting to meet the bare minimum goals for Seokjin to begin stripping.
That’s one thing about his audience he’d always be able to count on. They would always ensure that he had enough of a payout to take his cock out.
He chuckled at the comments, starting to wind up as he removed his shirt, and then unzipped his slacks.
XMasterX: you’ve been a bad boy. Sir needs to punish you for leaving us for so long.
“Is that right?” Seokjin challenged. “Well, then if I’m just going to be punished, maybe it’ll be better if I leave.”
The threat had the desired effect; Seokjin’s tip jar began to fill up faster, the view count starting to increase back to a somewhat decent viewership.
Good. This was good. Soon he could get all of this over with and secure himself back into good standing with the website and his subscribers.
Within a few minutes, the tip jar announced that the first two milestones have been unlocked: take off shirt and take off pants.
“Eager are we?” he teased, slowly slipping his shirt over his head. He’d managed to get back to the gym in his apartment complex this week, but even if he hadn’t, it’s not like he wasn’t still toned from all the heavy lifting at the restaurant. With all the electrical issues, he’d been helping pull industrial heavy equipment away from the walls for the electrician to prepare to install a new grounding wire, and those weren’t particularly light.
The comments lit up with the praise, usernames old and new beginning to flash across his screen. He smirked.
“I know you’ve waited a while, but maybe you should sweat it out a bit. Show me how much you missed me.”
It felt so natural to say this, something he knew you hadn’t felt comfortable doing in your streams, but you’d tried a few times. He’d found it cute when you’d done it, almost like it was a gentle request. But for him now, this was about anticipation and tension, letting his viewers fall back into the world of fantasy he used to cook up every few days. This was a place of escape, where Seokjin was left behind and Jin took control.
The tip jar shook, the animated coins piling in.
He popped the button of his pants. Slowly. He smirked at the camera, reaching down and squeezing himself. He wasn’t hard, but he wasn’t small, and that was still part of the fantasy: the grand reveal that people had to work for. He often chose to work under the assumption that everyone was new in the chat, that this was a new experience for voyeuristic eyes. While he knew that wasn’t necessarily true, for all he knew someone could be stumbling into the chat room, unknowing to his body and the pleasure he was so willing to give.
Someone like you.
His cock twitched at that. He’d expected this fantasy to get a bit old for him: the idea that you would come across his stream and stay for the whole thing. It had been the fuel for his fire a few months ago, but so much had changed now that you were friends.
But now that he knew more about you, all the little details, fuck. That just made it seem even more real. He could see you in your small room, his shirt draped over you safely while you strutted around in those tiny pajama shorts.
He unzipped his pants, kicking them off at the ankles and sitting back down in the chair.
You’d be doing the same thing, he thought. Those shorts riding up those thick thighs he now knew exactly the weight of as they’d rubbed against his. They were so soft, all of you so soft. And he knew you’d shove them down quickly, annoyed that they got in your way, pouting a little bit that he wasn’t there to tug them off of you.
“Fuck,” Seokjin said. “I don’t know if I can really take it much longer.” It was true, his cock was hardening quickly, and the need to touch himself was growing heavier with urgency.
His chat sounded off, various commands to wait or to go for it. It really didn’t matter. He wasn’t there for them tonight. Even though maybe he should have been, maybe the risk was that if he didn’t comply, there would be no great reward.
mapl3stor33 tipped $3000: Welcome back. Give us a good one. You can always pay us back for it 😉
Seokjin smiled, his most loyal subscriber popping up with a generous tip. Yes, this was where he thrived, wasn’t it? Isn’t this what he was good for?
2 milestones unlocked from another viewer, this time selecting from some of the few dozens of options programmed into the menu to help guide the stream: cock ring and edging, no cumming.
God, why did he allow for there to be guided sessions? Why didn’t he lead the stream this time like the one he did a few months ago? That was the one where he’d cum all over himself after pretending to blindfold you.
Now, he knew even more about you, how the curve of your ass felt shifting against him. How soft your hair was when it tickled his arms while you slept, little whimpers escaping your mouth that he knew he could easily draw from you again when he got the chance. You’d look so pretty with a blindfold on, shivering in the warm light of your bedroom, mouth open and desperate as he lightly touched around your collarbone, down your sternum and between the valley of your tits. You’d been so bad about teasing him in those sexy little bustiers and corsets lately, and it would be nice if he got to tease you for once.
His cock ached through his briefs, asking him to end the torture, to free himself into the open air and stroke until he came thinking about all the ways he wanted to torture you with pleasure.
But with another tip coming in, this time adding the detail of a vibrating cock ring, Seokjin knew his fantasies would not be leading him to be satisfied tonight. At least not in the way he wanted.
Twenty minutes later, after playing into the game of begging and whining and falsely pretending he was going to cum to ensure he was edging, he came. A pathetic, unsatisfying dribble that wept out of him and hardly amounted to the sensation he felt earlier. He’d tried to think of you, but there was a block. Too many people watching, too many people demanding things from him. Instead of just cumming, it became aware to Seokjin how much of a performance these streams always were; the ring light setup ensured people could see every angle. He knew how to make attractive faces when he orgasmed that would leave everyone with plenty of imagery for their own personal fantasies later. He knew how to pretend to be more turned on than he was, and to force vibrators and dildos into proper angles to ensure he came. It was all part of the show.
One that he hadn’t taken part in for quite some time. When he masturbated last night in the shower, he caught his reflection in the vanity mirror. He saw how his face contorted, how his body would buck and writhe without his control as he came against the shower wall, how in some ways, there was something objectively unsexy about how he came, no glossy angles to make sure his chin didn’t pull into different skin pockets, no ambient lighting to capture the ridges of his body. Just the pure experience of orgasming as a human being and nothing more.
As he wiped up his mess, he decided to do a little chat with his subscribers.
At least he didn’t moan that one person’s name like last time.
Oh yeah. Jin what was that about? You have some girlfriend we don’t know about?
I thought he was gay. This is a gay site!
You must be new here. He’s straight.
Oh :(
Maybe he’s been too busy fucking her to come play with us.
I bet it’s boring sex. Who needs to do streams when they’re getting laid. You better tell her to satisfy you, or one of us will have to come show her how she could do better.
“Yah, enough of that,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I don’t have a girlfriend. And I don’t want to talk about what happened that one time. It was a mistake. It won’t happen again. Anyway, I’m tired. Time for bed. I won’t make you wait as long for next time. Bye!”
Ugh. What an awful stream. If it was going to be like this all the time, maybe he should have actually considered letting the website shut him down and take the cut.
But then how would you get everything taken care of with the restaurant.
He sighed. Is this how you experienced streaming too? He figured as much. His stomach tugged, disappointed he couldn’t talk to you about it. You always debriefed your streams with him, especially if you felt a little shitty during one. Now, because he was keeping this life of his separate from his life with you, he had no one who would understand to talk to about this. All he could ever do is provide support to you, but not you to him. It was still just as lonely doing this as it always had been. Only this time, Seokjin knew that it didn’t have to be this way. That some people could reveal other parts of themselves to get kernels of support when needed.
But that wasn’t going to be him. He was alone in this. And as he dragged himself to bed, feeling sorry for himself, he didn’t notice that he left his phone on silent.
“Detective? Are you there?” The svelte redhead approached my desk. I could see through the cameras that she helped herself to snooping around. Whatever she was gathering from my notebooks, it was a trap.
Any good detective knows not to leave his mess around. Any clues she was trying to gather from this dark, dark world, they would be nothing compared to reality.
Reality is darker. Betrayal, people thinking they know me because they know my past.
I light a cigarette, inhaling deeply. The smoke swirls around my head like a cloud. It’s cloudy here in Seattle, and that promise of heavy rain reassures me. He’s going to try to move the kitty tonight, and I’m not about to let him use her as a distraction.
She leans her large, milky tits over my desk. She’d look good there, spread out across it. I’m sure she knows too. Any dame like her would know what she’s worth. A tempting distraction, but I am too good to fall for it.
“God what the fuck even is this?” You exit out of the screen on your tablet, the cover mocking you for even considering it. Whatever the hell you were expecting from Clues to My Heart’s raving 5-star reviews, this wasn’t it. This was a pile of absolute garbage.
And it isn’t serving its purpose of distraction. You are still imagining the main character as Seokjin, only Seokjin in some twisted, fake machismo, desk set smutty nightmare of a book that is so full of plot holes and clichés that you know you can’t stomach it further. Reading an awful romance novel is clearly not the answer to escaping the awful feeling in your stomach.
You delete it from your library and sigh, staring at the shelves of your apartment, debating if you really want to read something or just go to bed and let yourself cry.
He stood you up. He stood you up and you looked the hottest you ever looked. This was going to be your attempt at connection, at knowing for sure that you were on the path toward something more intimate than friendship.
But now, it was clear: whatever expectation you had for the two of you, it might as well be dead and buried with whatever body this stupid book is trying to solve the murder of.
You tried calling him multiple times. His phone just rang on and on as the clock shifted from 10:15 to 10:30 to 12:00. For a moment, you thought maybe you got the date or time wrong. Maybe instead of tonight as in today he thought you meant tomorrow?
Or maybe he lost track of time by finding a dog outside of your apartment, and then he had to go find its owner so he never had the chance to tell you he’d be late.
But more realistically, maybe he just doesn’t want to see you and this silence is meant to be interpreted as a boundary. Seokjin is definitely the type who would feel bad rejecting you when you come onto him, and would apologize to you despite the fact that he’s not guilty. It’s happened before, in the kitchen incident.
Even if it’s not that, it’s the fact that you carefully selected an outfit for tonight, a silky black slip dress that you are terrified to wear because there’s no part of you that you can hide. The slippery material will highlight every curve, every line (especially panty lines), and every droplet of moisture that you might dribble or sweat out.
But in the last few months, you’ve been trying to do one thing every day that scares you. Today, it would appear you were going to go for two. And now, you are dealing with one terrifying thing that might just be worse than the first two: rejection.
It’s humiliating. You know you’re going to go to work tomorrow and will have to see him knowing that there will be some awkward confrontation or avoidance game. You’ll have to speak to him. He’ll probably call you into the back office and let you down gently. Will reinforce the fact that he’s your boss and that things have gone too far or some bullshit.
And then, just like how you’ve been cut out of the lives of people who meant something to you, it’ll happen again, as it always does.
1 Year Ago
It’s raining so hard that you can’t see the road, but you’re trying to drive through it anyway, trying to make it home in time so you won’t miss it. You got out of work late; you thought being a substitute teacher wouldn’t come with all the extra grading, but you were wrong.
A year ago, the elementary school nearby shut down, and with it came the layoff of all its teachers. A stupid idea, really, because that meant an already over-enrolled school was forced to shuttle its students across town to the other elementary school, doubling its student body without doubling its teachers. Somewhere in the thick of it, you were looking for a job, living in your parents’ house trying to float from one career to the other.
Your friends around you were moving; Wonwoo was already in a new time zone, making an upward move in every area. His former girlfriend-turned-fianceé worked in HR for a tech start-up and easily navigated getting him in as a coder. They had just secured a penthouse with a gorgeous view. His life was locked together. Your other friends, it seemed, had moved on in their lives as well. Two of them already had children and were married. Two more were engaged. Everyone else was jetting across the world on expeditions to places with sandy beaches and bottomless drinks. And there you were: mid twenties, desperate for change.
So when you saw the banner across the elementary school advertising a need for substitute teachers, you decided you were desperate enough to try. And as it turned out, you loved it. There was something magic about working with young children, seeing how they developed new ideas you would never in your adult dreams try to fathom. But to them, to fly across the world on a magical escalator or hippo was a true possibility and you wanted part of you to have that same freedom to dream of the impossible. Their creativity inspired you to push the boundaries of life and dream of more.
Not to mention, it also landed you a boyfriend. One day while you were substituting for the gym teacher, nervously handing out kickballs to a bunch of fourth graders for class and praying they didn’t knock each other’s teeth out, someone stepped into the gymnasium and padded his way over to you, looking for his youngest sister to take her to a dentist appointment. And not too soon after, you and Do Woon had your first day date, which turned into a night date, and then a breakfast date. It was more like a 3-day date where the two of you spent the entire weekend rolling around in his sheets. You only managed to escape that awkward conversation with your parents because they were out of town for the weekend. If they had known any different, you would probably have died from embarrassment.
Teaching has given you a lot of great things. But with that care comes a cost. You are now late for your father’s surprise birthday party and trapped in an insane rainstorm.
You weave around fallen tree branches, trying not to obsess over the clock as the minutes roll smoothly into each other, knowing that by now, the surprise portion of the party is over. They’re probably eating cake now and reminiscing on his milestones. Your mother is probably chatting to your aunts and uncles about the renovations they’ve made to the main bathroom. Do Woon is supposed to be there, and if your instincts are right, you’ll be getting engaged tonight.
It would be the perfect opportunity. All your family is there ready to celebrate, and your father who hates being the center of attention will have all the pleasure of dumping the focus onto you.
Do Woon has been acting odd the last few weeks. You’ve been pretending not to notice, especially when recent conversations have been skirting around topics you two used to discuss regularly. You have a trip to Bali planned for the fall, which he once said is where he would want to honeymoon. He’s given very few details about this trip since he booked the flight almost three months ago, and you suspect that’s because he doesn’t want to give any spoilers about the honeymoon suites or couple packages you both looked over when you decided this was where you wanted to vacation. You’re not sure you have enough time to plan a wedding in six months, but if this is what Do Woon wants, who are you to say no?
Since the start of your dating, he’s been thoroughly engrossed in a very specific timeline, and had no issues telling you so: he wanted to date for about a year, get engaged, get married (wherever you wanted, he insisted), have a honeymoon on some beachy shores and get started with making babies. He is the eldest of six. He wants a big family.
You’ve talked him down from that number over the last few months, having him promise instead you will see how things go and will take it as it comes. While he wasn’t entirely pleased with that compromise, you think his agreement is a good enough answer. But that’s how Do Woon is. He plans his life down to every meticulous detail. Which is why even if you don’t think you can pull off planning a wedding in such a short window of time, you know he can.
So tonight, you think it’ll happen. And unfortunately for you, you’re going to look like absolute rain-soaked garbage, the perfect accompaniment to your shitty day.
The once neatly wrapped gift next to you is now soggy from the downpour. You didn’t check the weather before heading into work today and left your umbrella in the car. It rolls around on the floor in front of the passenger seat, completely dry and mocking.
At work, you found out that they’re continuing to make staffing cuts despite the shortage, as many families have chosen not to enroll in the school next year, instead moving their children to private schools closer to their homes or homeschooling. As desperate as they were to hire you, the work you put into the year you’ve been here is now about to just melt away.
You don’t know how much longer you’ll have a job.
You anticipated this, of course, spent most of the fall applying for graduate programs. Of the ten applications you submitted, you’ve been waitlisted in two places: the local university here and the more modern (and urban) program not even remotely close to this place. You’d hoped when you sent those applications that things would be getting more serious with Do Woon, but it had only been a handful of months. You weren’t sure where the two of you were going. And now, you are hoping for the local program, not wanting to give up on your dream of teaching if it means you don’t have to.
Your phone lights up in the darkness of your car. One more missed call from your mother. But you’re so close, almost to your neighborhood. You know how poorly this is going to go.
As you take a final turn, making your way down the street, you see the street has started flooding, barring you from your block. It’s no use, either. You can see on the block after yours that those crossroads are also flooded. The only way to get home is to do so on foot. So that’s what you do, park your car on the non-flooded side street, prop the sodden gift under your arm, grab your umbrella and head into the rain.
The thing about thresholds is that they are a place where you exist in transition. From the street, you can hear a hum of music but don’t know the exact tune. You see faces lit by the warm lamps of your dining room, and can make out your uncle and your father’s boss. But you can also hear the rain thrumming on the roof, smell the Earth as the rain hits the soil. There’s the chill of the wind cutting through your damp clothing. The moment you step into the house, you’ll be someone else. A daughter still, but also someone else’s future wife.
The warmth of the house touches your face when you step in, the loud voices you’d heard from the other side of the door now having owners: your aunt yelling at your young cousin not to touch something, the sharp guffaw of your dad’s best friend.
You take off your soaked shoes and walk into the dining room. The cake has been cut, neat squares leaving only globs of frosting leaves behind on the golden tray. The neapolitan ice cream is abandoned and melting into an unappetizing brown sludge. Empty beer cans stack up on the table’s other end.
Your stomach gurgles. You’ve barely eaten all day. But you know that will all happen soon. There’s time for cake and celebration after you see the birthday boy.
You find him in his favorite lounge chair, foot rest out as he relaxes and listens to some story one of his co-workers is telling about a client.
“I’m telling ya, she had this massive tits that would knock over everything and everyone. So I says to her one day, you know what I says? ‘Ma’am, now pardon me for sayin’ so, I’m a respectable fella, but I think you might need to get a car blinker.’ And she asks me why and I says to her, ‘Because when you’re turnin’ around, we then’ll know to duck!’”
A roar of laughter bellows through the room, your father smirking at the story as he sips his beer. Ugh. You saunter over to him, fanning a smile across your face.
“Hi Dad,” you say, and face the rest of the guests. “Hi everyone.”
“Y/N! What the hell happened to ya, kid. Rainstorm getcha?” Your father’s boss asks.
You give an apologetic nod. “Yes, I was caught in it. Left work late. The road is flooded so be careful when you leave.”
“I drove over in the truck, so I’m fine,” he responds, sucking down the rest of his beer. “Ah, all out. Can I get you another Birthday Boy?” He nudges you with his elbow roughly. “What about you, hon?”
“I’m, I’m all good. Thanks,” you say awkwardly, trying to ignore the way he’s looking at you up and down salaciously. This man is older than your father, is standing next to your father and behaving this way. It makes you want to strip your entire skin from your body and wash it in the washing machine.
“Suit yourself. I’m gonna get some more of that cake anyways. You coming, Bill?” Bill, the apparent co-worker who was bragging about his evident sexual harassment, sighs.
“Yeah, yeah. Well, if I don’t see ya, happy birthday again. Thank your wife for the dinner. It was great. And it was good to see you too,” Bill waggles his eyebrows and walks behind you through the foyer and into the dining room. For a brief moment, you swear you feel him cup your ass in passing.
“Where have you been?!” Your mother’s voice carries across the room. You whip your head to search, finding her walking into the room from the back entrance to the kitchen. She must’ve been cleaning up because the front of her blouse is wet.
“I was working and I had to stay late. And then the storm happened and I had to park down the street. I’m sorry.”
“Well because of you, we awkwardly stood around for well over an hour waiting for you to show up and get everything set up so when your father walked in the door it would actually be a surprise. Which it wasn’t, by the way. He recognized Carl’s truck out front and I guess that was the big giveaway. You were supposed to help me with this, Y/N!”
Your father looks at your mother and sighs. “It was really no big deal. I hate surprises anyway.”
“For a milestone birthday like this, you could use the surprise,” she asserts.
“Well, I got one anyway didn’t I?” He says sharply, standing up and walking out of the room. The gift in your hands feels like dead weight. You set it down onto his chair.
“What happened?” You ask.
Your mother walks closer, looking around the room to ensure no one else is listening. “Your father is being laid off. He found out today. And then when Carl and Bill and all them showed up, they kept talking about it. Turns out no one else in his department is being laid off. Just him.”
Your stomach sinks. Your father supplies most of the income that your family needs to stay afloat. He’s not expected to retire for a few more years. Which means if he gets laid off, he’ll lose a few years’ worth of extra employer contributions to his retirement fund. And his boss and co-workers being such assholes to rub it in? Fuck them.
This wasn’t how you expected any of this to go.
“Oh god. Poor dad.” Your mother nods.
“Yeah, what a birthday. And you weren’t even there to share it with him because you were too busy to be here when it was the only time we needed you to show up. So thanks for that.”
Her words are like knives. You feel yourself being sliced open from all the guilt. She’s not wrong. You’d been the one to organize most of this party, to convince her to follow through with it. And you missed it. People around you have begun departing, shouting happy wishes to your father. All his unwrapped gifts sit on the coffee table next to you, colorful paper pulled open. You missed the entire thing.
“I didn’t mean to,” you try, but you know it's useless. Your mother waves goodbye to one of the neighbors. It’s stopped raining enough to not be a constant heavy click against the windowpane.
“Well you did anyway. It is what it is. Now are you going to disappear on me during clean up or are you going to help me?” She begins to weave the discarded wrapping paper out from under the gifts, setting them into a neat pile on the coffee table.
“I’ll get a trash bag,” you offer, and make your way through the house into the kitchen. Every surface is riddled with stacks of paper plates with balloons on them and plastic forks and spoons. A large yellow tupperware bowl idles by the sink, some vinegary salad now mixed with remnants of every other food from watermelon to potato chips. It’s the first thing you dump into the trash bag.
You follow the garbage, in and out of the half bathroom and dining room, back to the living room when you notice someone is missing.
“Mom,” you say. “Where’s Do Woon?”
“Was he supposed to be here? Because I didn’t see him.”
“He didn’t come?”
“No, Y/N. Unless he is hiding upstairs in your room for some reason, I have not seen him at all tonight.” She dumps a pile of plates into the trash bag. “Think you can handle the rest? My feet hurt and your father and I need to discuss some things.”
“Sure, I am just surprised he didn’t come. I thought–”
“God, honestly. For two seconds can you not think about yourself? It’s not your birthday.”
You fall silent, nodding your head as she steps out of the room and goes to find your father.
Something must be wrong, you think. You reach into your pocket and grab your phone, checking it for messages from Do Woon.
There are many missed calls from your mother, but none from him. Strange. The last time you talked was today. You had reminded him what time the party started. He didn’t respond, but he read the message, and you were satisfied with that.
You select his contact info and hit the call button. After a few seconds of ringing, it goes to voicemail.
“Hey, it’s me. Not sure what happened tonight, maybe you got stuck in the storm. I know I did, it was crazy and I missed the entire party. Today’s been awful. But uh yeah, call me back when you get this. Love you.”
Maybe he is stuck in a work meeting? He does work late, sometimes unexpectedly, putting in extra hours at his office until you are getting ready for bed.
You shoot him a text.
You 9:02PM: Hey, missed you at the party. Are you working late?Read 9:02PM
Immediately you can see he has opened it. But after ten minutes, there is no response.
You 9:12PM: Everything okay? Read 9:12PM
You clean up the rest of the trash in the living room, tying off the bag and stepping outside. It has stopped raining. The world looks glassy as droplets fall from the tree limbs and refract the streetlights. You walk over to the trash bin, the glaze of cold water running down your hands as you deposit the bag in. You grab the mail.
No acceptance letters. For some reason that feels like the cherry on top of the shittiness that is today. Your mother’s bitter words, your father’s exhaustion, the weather’s chaos weaving into your insecurity. It all feels like some horrible dream.
You need Do Woon. He’s not much of a talker, but he is a good listener, and after a good ranting session, he’ll usually fuck the sadness out of you so you don’t have to think and afterward you’re usually too tired to do anything but sleep. That’s what you need right now.
Where is he? It’s been a half hour and no response. Maybe you’re being paranoid and soon he’ll call and poke fun at how worried you seemed. Maybe he’ll be mad that you are interrupting a work meeting. But today has been awful. And all you want is to hear his voice.
So you call him again, and this time it goes immediately to voicemail.
You 9:38PM: What is going on? Read 9:38PM
You 9:39PM: Please answer me. I’m getting worried. Read 9:39PM
You 9:39PM: Babe!
Message failed to deliver.
A glow falls onto the damp earth around you. You look around for the source and then up. As the rain clouds break apart above you, you realize you’re standing in the light of the moon.
He never called back. That was the end. When you think about it now, there were some vague signs of distancing, but it never amounted to anything that made sense. There, then gone, Do Woon cut you off one day and never looked back.
Much to your embarrassment, you didn’t handle the situation well. That night, you tried calling him three more times, only to receive a message that the number you tried to reach was unavailable. You’d considered driving to his apartment, but as the night wore on, you started to put the pieces together. He didn’t want to talk to you. He’d blocked you, and you didn’t know why.
For the first month after the ghosting-turned-break-up, you tried to get intel to figure out what happened, how you had so royally fucked up your relationship that he didn’t even want to tell you to your face. Unfortunately, most of your friends you’d made that year were through him, and with him cutting you off, so did most of your friends.
Your parents were sympathetic, to a degree. You were given approximately two days to mope. And then you were told to start looking for better jobs in case you, like your father, would be laid off.
“It’ll be a good distraction, I think!” Your mother had said. “Nothing says get over a relationship better than starting a new job.”
You and your father passed job postings back and forth for the next week. You were less than thrilled with the job market. Sure, jobs existed, but none with your skillset or interests or desired pay. To gain anything you would have to make a choice to lose something else, and it twisted your gut at the prospect.
But, in the midst of the heartache, came your rejection from the local university. It was for the best, really. You knew you only wanted to study there because of Do Woon, and without him being part of your life it didn’t matter anyway.
And just as you were at the end of your optimism, ready to let hope die and surrender to the dreamless haze, an email came in with an acceptance into the final university. A big city laid before you to explore.
Things snapped into place. You finished up the school year and told your parents you were moving out.
And now you’re here, in an apartment all to yourself, attending your dream program (or at least trying to) and learning how to cook a halfway decent meal. An apartment that has you rotting on a couch as you try to remind yourself that what happened with Do Woon was a fluke, and not anything you did wrong. And it certainly isn’t some sign that you’re doomed to repeat the same fate again.
You’ve learned in the last few weeks that he’s engaged to someone he met through a matchmaking service. In his profile picture, his future bride is holding an ultrasound photo and he has his hands on her very large belly. “Coming this summer: our own ray of sunshine” the caption reads.
You can’t imagine him ever saying that. He always hated cheesy things. But that’s the surprising thing about all of this: you also never expected him to ghost you and immediately start seeing someone else.
He was a fluke in the timeline. Not a rule, right? You know this. You know not everything happening once means you’re doomed to repeat it forever.
But why is that all you can think about with Seokjin?
You went to work this morning, and he said nothing. No, he probably won’t disappear into the abyss because he manages this place. But when his parents return, will he then? Is he just biding his time before he vanishes?
You hope not. God, you really hope not.
The day rolls on without a word between either of you. Maybe this is how it should be, you think. Two people. Uncomplicated. Not tied to each other by strands of anything.
Fate. This is how it works. It brings people together and then it pulls them apart.
©2024 by jooniperbonsai
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new update - 'Thank You for the Venom', chapter 10 🎸 🗡️
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten Summary
Adam loses his patience with Lute when she won't let him take care of her without a fight.
Who is here for some close proximityyyyyyy?! 🙋🏼♀️
All I'm going to say is that the next few chapters are going to be fun. SO much fun. Buckle up, buttercups!
Thanks @branded-rose for beta-ing as always, you wonderful human <3
Neither Adam or Lute said anything on the way to his apartment.
Lute had decided, for fucking once, that she didn’t feel up to talking or backchatting him and instead spent the trek back sulking in his arms, refusing to look at him.
If he was being honest, the silence was more than welcomed. It gave Adam time to think, to form a game plan for the week ahead. His objective? To not fuck his lieutenant while she recovered from her injury. As tempting as it was, he couldn’t risk her reinjuring herself and taking more time off training.
Considering he had a meeting with Sera coming up, he needed Lute to heal up fast, lest he be subjected to a lecture on how he wasn’t taking this seriously enough, why was his lieutenant always getting injured under his watch, blah, blah-fucking-blah.
Though, now that he came to think of it, he was the guy who literally invented sex. Surely he could come up with some creative positions so as to not do further damage to her ankle.
He found himself lost in his thoughts as they approached his front door, trying to think of the most stationary way to bury himself inside her when a familiar, irritating voice quickly brought him back to reality.
“Sir? Sir. Are you even listening to me?”
Adam glanced down at Lute, who was waving a hand in front of his face, looking wildly unimpressed.
“Course I was,” he said defensively, lying through his teeth. He had absolutely no idea what she’d said - and frankly, couldn’t care, considering he’d been thoroughly enjoying the visuals that accompanied his dirty thoughts.
“Then what was I talking about?” She narrowed her eyes at him, and he resisted the urge to roll his own in response.
“Uhh… you were complaining about something or other? Hold up - could you reach into my pocket and grab my key for me?”
What a save.
Lute scowled at him, unimpressed. “A ‘please’ wouldn’t hurt, you know.”
Adam resisted the urge to drop her on the floor for being a colossal pain in his ass. Injury be damned, she was already getting on his nerves and they hadn’t even walked through the front door yet.
It was going to be a long ass week together, and he wasn’t sure which one of them would kill the other first.
“Fucking hell - fine. Grab the key from my pocket and unlock the front door, so we can hurry the fuck up and get inside, please?”
Smiling smugly, she reached her hand into his pocket, digging around for his key, her fingers roughly hitting the front of his hip and thigh through the fabric of his robe. “Was that so hard, sir?”
“If you keep digging around like that babe, you’ll find something else in there that’s hard.”
“Ugh. You disgust me.” She threw him the flattest look, producing the key from his pocket and unceremoniously shoving it into the keyhole.
When they stepped through the front door, Adam felt the slightest pang of shame at not cleaning up after himself from the night before. Empty wine bottles and takeout containers littered his counter, while there was no way Lute’s keen eye would miss the hot pink bra draped lazily over the back of his armchair.
Layla had forgotten to pick up after herself again.
“Really?” she asked dryly, raising a brow at him as he carried her over to his couch. “I’m surprised you don’t have a lost and found box permanently stationed outside your front door.”
“You know Lute, that’s the most intelligent thing that I think has ever come out of your mouth,” he mused, setting her down carefully so as not to bump her injured leg. “I’ll be right back.”
He grabbed the bra off the back of his chair and wandered into his bedroom, quickly grabbing his phone to text Layla.
Adam: You forgot your bra. Again.
As expected, considering Layla never got off her phone, it vibrated in his hand almost instantly.
Layla: Did your pretty little patient notice?
Adam: Yes.
Layla: She’d look good in it, too. Don’t you think?
Adam: Not helping.
Layla: I know. Good luck.
Snorting, he pocketed his phone again. Layla had picked up on the tension between him and Lute at the bar a couple of months go, before he’d followed her outside. She’d nagged him about it for fucking weeks, until a moment where she quite literally had him by the balls and he relented, admitting that there had been something between them, but nothing more had happened.
He didn’t need the truth spreading around the barracks like wildfire, considering how fucking chatty the girls were. Still, he was thankful that Layla seemed to have kept her mouth shut, even though she nagged him almost daily about Lute.
As he reminded himself to change his sheets later, he drew on the uncomfortable conversation he’d had with Layla the night before in his bed.
~
“Why do you even fucking care?” Adam asked, rolling over to look at her. “I wouldn’t have picked you to be the jealous type.”
“That’s because I’m not,” Layla said simply as she sat up, letting the duvet fall, exposing her ample chest as she inspected a strand of her hair. “Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy our hookups because they scratch an itch, so to speak, but emotionally you’re kind of a giant walking red flag.”
“Gee, thanks,” he said bitterly. “Way to make a guy feel good about himself.”
“Oh, please, Adam,” she snorted. “That’s not what I’m here for. You want someone to stroke your ego? Get a girlfriend. Or, man up and do something about your little crush on Lute.”
“I’ll give you something you can stroke,” he said in a low voice, reaching over to cup one of her breasts, massaging it softly, choosing to ignore her dig at him as he kneaded it softly.
She glanced at his hand, her expression bored, then shook her head. “Nah. I’m good.” Stretching, she slid out of his bed and began getting dressed.
“Where are you going?”
“Home. I told you - I had an itch, you scratched it. Now I’m done.”She leaned both arms on the bed, staring Adam down with her large golden eyes, her expression unusually firm.
“Stop being such a pussy Adam, and just shoot your shot,” she said sternly. “I have a feeling that you’ll be a happier man for it.”
“I have no fucking idea what you’re on about.”
“That’s your problem then, not mine.”
With that, she sashayed out of his room, flicking her hair over her shoulder.
~
Shoving the memory to the back of his mind, not wanting to think about it any further, Adam threw the bra into his closet before grabbing two pillows off his bed and trudging back out into his living room.
Lute’s thumbs were moving swiftly across her phone screen as she typed furiously, her eyes unmoving. If she noticed Adam come back into the room, she didn’t acknowledge him.
“Who are you texting?”
She startled slightly, glaring at him as he took a seat next to her on the couch. “Vaggie. I’m telling her what I’ll need for the next week.”
“Anything special I should know about?”
Her cheeks flushed and she narrowed her eyes further at him. “No.”
“That’s a lie if I ever fucking heard one. Here - hold this,” he shoved a pillow at her, knocking her phone out of her hands, causing it to bounce away from her and land close to her feet. Grabbing it to pass back to her, he snuck a quick look at her screen.
Vaggie: You sure you’re okay? You could have stayed with me.
Lute: You’d get sick of me.
Vaggie: That’s a lie.
Lute: Plus, he had a point. His place is bigger than our apartments.
Vaggie: I guess. If you need to tap out at any time though, call me. What do you need?
Lute: I’ll be alright. Just the usual stuff. Clothes and toiletries. Also my protein powder and shaker. And a book or two. Third drawer in the kitchen. You know the type.
Vaggie: Unusual hiding spot for a book, but okay.
“Why do you keep your books in the kitchen drawer?” Adam asked, extending his arm so Lute could take her phone. “That’s a fucking weird spot. Most normal people keep theirs on a bookshelf.”
“None of your fucking business,” she snapped, snatching her phone back and locking it. “Next time, don’t read my messages, creep.”
“Oh, calm your tits, it wasn’t like you had anything interesting to say,” he huffed, laying the remaining pillow across the top of his thighs. “Alright, I’m about to take a look at your leg and see how bad the damage is. I’d suggest biting into that pillow while I do it.”
“Why on earth would I need to bite into a pillow?”
Adam sighed and scratched behind his neck, not caring for her attitude. “Because, and I hate to break this to you, babe, but it’s not going to tickle when I take your shoe off. In fact, it’s going to hurt like hell. So, instead of you yelling at the top of your lungs and my neighbours get pissed off that they can hear someone screaming in here again, just bite into the fucking pillow, would you?”
“Do you make screaming loud enough to piss your neighbours off a regular habit?” she asked, cocking a brow at him. He snorted and gently lifted her legs, scooting closer to her so that he could place them on top of the pillow on his lap.
“It’s not me they’re complaining about, babe.”
She shot him a withering look and he snickered, shaking his head. “You are so easy to rile up, Dangertits.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Not gonna happen. Anyway, get ready because I’m about to take your shoe off and it’s gonna hurt.” He started undoing the laces on her trainer, taking care not to knock her foot.
“Somehow, I think I’ll manage,” she muttered, “I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal about this. It’s a fucking ankle sprain, but you’re making out like I’ve lost a goddamn limb or something”
He closed his eyes, trying to find the inner strength to deal with her shitty attitude. He wasn’t the most patient man at the best of times, but she was really testing him now.
“Lute,” he ground out through gritted teeth, “shut the fuck up and stop being such a brat.”
She puffed her cheeks and crossed her arms looking away from him. “I am not being a brat.”
“You fucking are. You’re pouting at me again.”
“I am not,” she argued, aiming a swift kick at him with her good leg. He caught it mid-air before it connected with his shoulder, glowering at her.
“If you don’t shut your mouth,” he growled, “I’m going to shut it for you.”
“Oooh, I’m so scared,” she said sardonically, her face twisting into a mock fearful expression. “What are you going to do to me?”
“Don’t push your fucking luck with me.” He leaned over, their chests just touching as he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him, her blazing golden eyes meeting the yellow of his mask. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to help you here, not make things worse. Stop running your fucking mouth and start listening to me. That’s an order. Do you fucking understand me, Lieutenant?”
Her lip curled into a snarl. “I didn’t ask you to take care of me, sir.”
“I couldn’t really give a shit what you asked for,” he said coolly, letting go of her face roughly and resuming his original position on the couch. “Shoe’s coming off now, by the way. Get ready - or not, I’m not bothered either way.”
He gripped the heel of her trainer and tugged downwars, trying not to move her actual foot as much as possible. Lute hissed, then let out a cry of pain as he gently wiggled the shoe in order to ease it off her swollen foot.
“That hurts!” she yelled, throwing her head back against the armrest of the couch.
“Bite the goddamn pillow, Lute, or my neighbours will think I’m murdering someone.”
“It’s Heaven, nobody gets murdered here,” she growled.
“Well, it’s either that or they’ll think you’re an animal and into some kinky shit, so if you want them to keep thinking that, go ahead and be my guest. I don’t care.”
He was relieved to see her finally press the pillow into her face, her scream muffled as he finally managed to get her shoe and sock off.
Adam had seen his fair share of soft tissue injuries during his time as Commander of the Exorcist army - severe bruising, strains and sprains were commonplace, especially during training sessions. In fact, they probably made up at least half of the incident reports he had to fill out. But, in classic Lute fashion, she had managed to spectacularly outdo everybody else, sporting the most brilliant ankle sprain he had ever seen.
Her skin was no longer pale, instead now heavily bruised with patches of vibrant oranges and yellows that spread from the tips of her toes right up to past the hem of her leggings, concentrated mostly around her ankle - which had turned a particularly nasty shade of vermillion. The afflicted area had also swelled to twice its normal size, looking unnatural next to her muscular right leg.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered, gently running his fingers over her swollen skin. “Not sure if I should congratulate you on doing such a great job, or be pissed that you’re going to be out of action for a while.”
When she didn’t respond, he glanced up at her and was surprised to find that tears had formed in the corners of her eyes.
“It’s not that bad,” he backtracked, feeling uncomfortable at her sudden shift in demeanour. Shit, he was hopeless when it came to women crying in front of him, he never had any idea what to do, and no matter what he said, he tended to just make it worse. “A week off work, at the most.”
She looked away, and he pretended not to notice as she quickly wiped her eyes. Not that she deserved it for being such a pain in the ass earlier. Still, he couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit sorry for her. Her misery almost made her seem normal.
“I don’t want to take a week off work,” she said thickly. “We’ve got too much to do. And - and you have a meeting with Sera and -”
Adam cut her off, waving his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about my meeting with Sare-bear, she doesn’t have to know everything that goes on at training. But, Lute, just listen,” he let one of his hands come to rest on her knee in a comforting gesture.
“You need to swallow your fucking pride and do as I say, alright? I swear I’m not trying to be a dick, I’m trying to help you get back to normal as soon as possible. Believe it or not, you’re not invincible, but if you just rest, you’ll heal quicker. Okay? So, just…fucking chill.”
He gave her knee a reassuring pat, and as she looked up at him through her damp lashes, he felt oddly compelled to comfort her further. He wasn’t entirely sure where the feeling came from, or what it meant exactly, but all he knew was that he needed to show her that he cared. So he lifted the hand that was resting on her leg and grabbed one of her hands, squeezing it gently, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles.
He found himself studying how small her hands were, how if he held their hands up together, the tips of her fingers would barely reach past his palms. How could such tiny hands be responsible for spilling so much Sinner blood, year after year?
Lute cast her eyes downwards into her lap and nodded, resigned. “Okay,” she said quietly, her voice barely audible.
Adam breathed a sigh of relief and let his head fall backwards. “Finally, she listens to me,” he muttered to his ceiling. “It’s only taken God knows how fucking long.”
He managed to catch the pillow just before it hit him in the face.
***
Lute was on the verge of falling asleep when Vaggie turned up at Adam’s apartment, a large duffel bag slung over her shoulder and a scowl plastered on her face as he greeted her with an obnoxiously loud, “‘Sup, Vagasaurous!”
She couldn’t hear most of their conversation from her position on the couch due to the fact that they were speaking in hushed voices, but she was positive she heard Vaggie stage-whisper, “What do you mean she hasn’t had any fucking painkillers?” at one point.
If they spoke much after that, she had no recollection of it as she let her eyes rest, drifting off to sleep.
When she woke, she was surprised to feel something soft covering her bare shoulders. Opening her eyes, she found a blanket over her, considerately tucked neatly under her body. Vaggie must have come in and made sure she was warm, knowing Adam wouldn’t have the care factor to do so.
Sitting up, Lute hissed, grimacing as pain seared through her ankle, which was resting gently atop one of the pillows Adam had brought out from his bedroom. Another considerate gesture from Vaggie.
She really was such a good friend.
“Bout time you woke up.”
Her eyes darted around, finding Adam sitting at his counter flicking through something on his phone.
“How long was I asleep for?” she asked, drawing the blanket up under her chin. She didn’t love the idea of him being around her, awake, while she slept. What if she did something embarrassing, like snored, or drooled… or worse, talked in her sleep?
Given some of the… intense dreams she’d had over the past few months that may or may not have involved her boss, she reall, really hoped she didn’t sleeptalk.
Adam looked up from his phone as he set it on his counter, which was now rid of the rubbish that had been strewn across it when they first arrived at the apartment. At least he’d taken the liberty of cleaning up while she slept. “A couple hours? You were pretty out of it.”
“Really?”
“Oh, fuck yeah. Also, you have the funniest little snore. It’d almost be cute if it wasn’t coming from you.”
“I do not snore!” Lute cried indignantly, pulling the blanket tighter around herself.
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Babe. You snored. Besides, how would you know if you do or don’t? Anybody ever told you that you have?”
“No,” she admitted, deliberately choosing not to elaborate further - he didn’t need to know it was because she’d never slept next to anybody before. She’d never hear the end of it and besides, it was absolutely none of his business.
“Well, either this was something special you saved just for me, or all the men you’ve ever shared a bed with sleep like the dead.”
“Again, sir, it’s Heaven. Most people here sleep like the dead because they are dead.”
“Fuck, it was nice and peaceful while you were comatose,” Adam muttered under his breath, sliding off his stool, “even if you were snoring.”
Lute watched with mild interest as he opened kitchen cupboards, continuing to mutter to himself. It was odd seeing him in such a domesticated environment - given his status in Heaven as the First Man and how obnoxious he was, she’d expected him to live in a more luxurious, gaudy home. In reality, apart from an overly-large TV, and the fact that the footprint of his apartment was slightly larger than hers, his home wasn’t very impressive at all.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he made his way over to her and sat on the coffee table in front of her, holding a glass of water.
“Your little scissor-sister bestie chewed me out for not giving you these sooner, so hurry up and take them before she turns up at my door again.” He extended his hand, uncurling his fist to reveal two small blue pills. “They should stop the pain while you’re sitting still.”
“I’m not in pain,” Lute said quickly, eyeing the pills, “I’m fine.” She didn’t want him thinking she was weak enough to need medication. That would just be pathetic, especially for something as minor as a sprained ankle.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, did we or did we not just have a conversation about this?” Adam snapped, “take the fucking pills Lute, before I force them down your throat.”
Glaring at him, she snatched the pills from his outstretched hand, but before she could pull away his hand closed tightly over hers. He moved off the coffee table, kneeling in front of her, once again closing space between their bodies.
She glanced down at their hands, and noticed that he must have taken his gloves off while she was asleep, because they were bare. She’d seen him without them before, but he was close enough now that she couldn’t help but notice the sprinkling of fine ash-brown hair that crept up the back of his hand.
It was also warm, and strong. If it were anybody else holding her hand, she’d admit to liking how that felt. She kept that thought to herself.
“You,” he started, his voice now low and dangerous, “are really pissing me off now. Cut the bullshit, stop being a stubborn little bitch and let me take fucking care of you, alright?”
“I’m not weak,” she hissed, “I’m not some helpless little girl who needs saving.”
“Nobody said you were. Shut up and take the painkillers, Lute.” He let go of her hand and shook his head in frustration.
Scowling, she shoved the pills in her mouth and swallowed, grimacing at the taste as she struggled to get them down her throat. She held out her hand for the glass of water and Adam handed it to her unceremoniously.
Once she’d managed to chase the pills with the water, she thrust the glass back in his direction.
“Was that so hard?”
She sighed. “Yes actually, it was.”
“It would have been a fuckton easier if you’d just listened to me.”
“Where did you even get painkillers, anyway? It’s not like anybody here needs them.”
He snorted. “You think I’m going to smuggle hard liquor from Hell every year for our post-Extermination Day rager, and not be smart enough to also steal something to help with the hangover the next day?”
“Oh, I feel so honoured you gave me your special hangover pills.”
“So you fucking should be, I only get a few a year.”
She turned her head to gaze at him, still seated on the floor in front of her. He looked as tired as she felt. “Why are you so hellbent on doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“This. Making sure I’m alright. You don’t care about me.”
“Bullshit. I care about all my girls, Lute, and that includes you.” He scooted closer, so his side leaned against the couch, his body facing hers. “You just make my job more difficult because you’ve got more of a tendency to bite back than the others.”
Lute didn’t say anything, instead choosing to adjust the waistband of her leggings, which were starting to dig into her and get uncomfortable. She desperately needed a shower.
“You know what’s going to be difficult?” she groaned, realising another roadblock they’d have to tackle.
“What?”
She grimaced, not wanting to admit it out loud - but what choice did she have?
“Showering.”
Adam blinked at her, confused. “Oh, yeah we can do that. No biggie, I’ll just carry you in, you can do your thing and when you’re ready just call me and I’ll come get you. Easy as fuck.”
“Sir. That’s not going to work. How am I even supposed to stand in the shower, or get in and out?
He scratched the back of his neck, frowning. “Shit, I didn’t think of that. Unless…”
“I’m not showering with you,” Lute said quickly.
Adam snorted. “Babe, that is not where my mind was going, but now that you mention it, if you can put your big girl panties on and be an adult about this, it would be the easiest solution.”
She glared at him. “No, sir. What was your other plan?”
“I have a bath. It’s probably easier to get you in there.”
She swallowed, unconvinced. “I haven’t had a bath since -”
Adam held a hand up, silencing her. “Since I busted into your apartment. Yeah, yeah, I know, spare me the lecture. As far as I see this playing out Dangertits, you’ve got three options. One, take a bath. I help you in, get you settled, then come and get you when the time’s up. Easy. Two, we shower together. Not gonna lie, the thought of it excites me, but you’d have to keep your eyes closed the whole time, because this,” he tugged at the bottom of his hood, “would be coming off.”
“I can keep my eyes closed, I’ve done it before,” she retorted, the words escaping her lips before she had the chance to hold them in. Her eyes widened and she clapped a hand to her mouth, utterly mortified at her inadvertent admission of wanting to shower with him. Her stomach twisted into a thousand knots as she frantically wondered how the fuck she was going to talk her way out of this.
She wanted to die.
He cocked an eyebrow at her, grinning. “Believe me, I know you can. Let’s just say the last time I asked you to, I was very impressed with how well you can follow instructions when you don’t fucking backchat me.”
Lute sank lower into the couch, pulling the blanket over her head so Adam wouldn’t see how her face and chest were basically glowing fluorescent. So she didn’t have to look at his stupid smug fake face as it smirked at her.
“What’s my third option?” she muttered, her voice strained.
“You don’t bathe at all for the next week. Which is fucking gross.”
She felt him rip the blanket away from her, and she yelped at the sensation of the cool air on her bare skin, goosebumps creeping up her arms. She glared up at Adam, who was now standing over her, blanket tossed to the side.
“Was that necessary?” she asked, folding her arms over her stomach.
He shrugged. “Not really, no, but I need an answer, and I didn’t feel like you were going to give me one, so I had to do something.. What’s it gonna be, babe?”
“I don’t have a choice, do I?” she groaned, “I’ll take a bath.”
“Slightly disappointed you didn’t suggest the shower, to be honest.” He bent down and slid one arm under her knees, and the other around her waist, lifting her up off the couch effortlessly. “Come on. Let’s get you clean. Want me to give you a sponge bath while we’re at it?”
Lute turned her head and let it rest against Adam’s chest as he carried her to his bathroom, taking in his scent - woody, aromatic. Slightly peppery, even. Masculine.
Intoxicating.
For all the times he’d been in her personal space, she’d never really paid attention to how he smelt. She was usually too busy being annoyed by his presence.
Or, he had her preoccupied in other ways.
As for his comment about the sponge bath?
Lute felt that sometimes, some questions were best left unanswered.
#guardrock#guitarspear#hazbin hotel#adam x lute#hazbin hotel lute#guitarspear fic#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin adam#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin lute
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Onset - Chapter One
Rating: Explicit
Media: Jujutsu Kaisen/JJK
Pairing: Geto Suguru x Original Female Character
Characters: Geto Suguru, Valerie (OC)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Established Friendship, Geto and OC are roommates, Self-Insert, Smut, Penis in Vagina Sex, Creampie, Brief mention of an inability to get pregnant, Unprotected Sex, Cunnilingus, if I tagged everything we'd be here all day, This is part of a series
Part 3 of Sundane
Previous Part: Egg Fried Rice
Summary:
“What the fuck, Suguru?” She knows her skin doesn’t flush red, but she raises her hands to cover her face anyway.
“What?” He sits up, pulling his fingers out of her and nonchalantly bringing them to his mouth to suck her slick off of them. “We’ve been roommates for three years. You gonna pretend you’ve never heard me jerking off?” He raises an eyebrow at her when she peeks at him from between her fingers.
She silently and somewhat begrudgingly admits that he’s right.
“So where are they?”
“Why do you want to know?”
Read on AO3
“Why my bedroom?”
She means for it to sound like a complaint, but her tone is not quite right. She’s more aroused than annoyed - embarrassingly so, she might admit if forced to - her words pointed in the direction of the ceiling because tilting her head that way is the best way to keep Suguru doing what he’s doing.
At the moment, he has his face buried in her neck, treating his lips and teeth and tongue to the taste of her skin and working on leaving what is sure to be an impressive family of hickeys come morning.
“Because,” he mumbles in between kisses, “your bed is more comfortable than mine.”
She knows he’s right; on more than one occasion she’s found him napping in her room. “I told you to get the pillow top mattress,” she laughs. “Now I bet you wish you had listened to me.”
He raises his head to look at her. “My mattress is the last thing on my mind right now.”
It’s a fair point. And while she may have set out to complain about where they’re doing what they’re doing, any further grousing she’s planned to do gets sidelined by the reality of what they’re doing. Hating the fact that she’s being so pragmatic about things, she tugs lightly on a handful of his hair to get his attention. “Suguru.”
“Hm.” He’s slid down her body to take a vested interest in tonguing her nipples through the thin fabric of her sports bra and is only half-listening.
“Suguru.” She says his name again, this time with slightly more urgency.
“What.” It’s not quite a whine, but it’s close enough, and she almost feels bad for interrupting when he’s clearly having as much fun as she is.
“Before we get too… distracted,” she huffs, trying to ignore the way he looks: hair disheveled, lips wet with spit, one hand on her hip and the other toying with the nipple he’s just taken his mouth off of as he looks up at her. “Do you have something? I… don’t. It’s been a while.”
Suguru makes a concerted effort to understand what she’s saying. When her meaning is clear, he shakes his head. “Don’t need it.” He lowers his mouth to her breast again, this time sliding her sports bra up and effectively removing the last barrier between her skin and his tongue.
“Wait,” she protests, even though she does nothing to stop him. She helps him along, in fact, by raising her arms above her head so he can slide the bra completely off of her body. “That’s---”
“Come on,” he interrupts her, right before making a little trail of kisses from the place under the swell of her breast to her navel. “Just once, I wanna go without. We’re both clean and I already know you can’t get pregnant, remember?” He grins up at her from where he’s come to rest between her thighs, his chin on her belly.
“You’re not wrong, but you didn’t have to say it that way,” she sighs. Despite her words, she widens her legs to let him settle himself more comfortably between them.
“Sorry,” he says, still grinning and sounding anything but apologetic as he relieves her of her shorts and the panties beneath them. “I’ll make it up to you.”
And he sets out to do just that.
She thinks it’s a little unfair how good Suguru is at what he’s doing, but it isn’t really a surprise. It’s as if he’s known all along what her favorite things are - the way he teases her entrance with the tip of his tongue, or the way he somehow just seems to know that wetting his finger and sliding it between the left side of her clit and her outer labia makes her produce some of the prettiest moans he’s ever heard. Suguru eats her out slowly and sloppily, letting his mouth do most of the work while he buries two fingers inside her so he can relish the feel of her tightening and pulsing around them.
She’s quiet, but he knows she likes it from the way she’s holding fistfuls of his hair, tugging his head this way and that to guide his mouth where she wants it. Suguru lets her, even though he knows those parts of his scalp are going to be sore when it’s all said and done.
Nor does he tell her that he’s only ever let one other person put their hands in his hair like this. He doesn’t know what she would make of that kind of admission anyway.
When she comes, he stills his fingers completely but doesn’t withdraw them. His mouth, however, keeps busy. He slows and softens his pace just enough to keep her in that place between post-orgasmic pleasantness and overstimulation, mouthing at all the spots he now knows she likes. She’s still twitching and fluttering around his fingers when he speaks. “Hey… where are your toys?”
“Toys?” She parrots the word, confused and still coming down from her high. “What toys?”
“You know what toys.” He grins up at her. “The ones I heard you using a few nights ago.”
“What the fuck, Suguru?” She knows her skin doesn’t flush red, but she raises her hands to cover her face anyway.
“What?” He sits up, pulling his fingers out of her and nonchalantly bringing them to his mouth to suck her slick off of them. “We’ve been roommates for three years. You gonna pretend you’ve never heard me jerking off?” He raises an eyebrow at her when she peeks at him from between her fingers.
She silently and somewhat begrudgingly admits that he’s right.
“So where are they?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Why the fuck do you think I want to know?” He laughs. “I’d like to see what you’re used to.”
She uncovers her face and looks dubiously at him. She says nothing, instead simply motioning towards the drawer in her nightstand and watching him rummage through her colorful collection of toys.
“You can take this?” The ‘this’ in question is a dildo in his hand, the largest one she owns.
She nods.
Amused, he raises his eyebrows. “You like it?”
“Yes,” she snaps, embarrassment getting the better of her and making the word sound much more defensive than she intends it to. “Is that a problem?”
“Nope,” Suguru replies smugly. “Just means I don’t have to wonder whether or not mine can fit.”
She wants so badly to put him in his place, but one look at the way his cock springs free when he comes out of his bottoms shuts her mouth.
“What’s the matter?” He nudges his body between her open legs, her bottle of lube in one hand and his cock in the other. “Are you scared of it?” His words are teasing, as is the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth.
“Of that? You wish,” she retorts with a roll of her eyes. “I was just wondering if you treat all the women you sleep with this shitty.” Even as her mouth forms the insult, she’s grateful for the way he liberally coats himself in lube.
“You think this is shitty?” He laughs, holding his cock between his thumb and forefinger and repeatedly slapping it against her still-sensitive clit. She bites back - just barely - the little noise of pleasure that threatens to escape her as he does so. “I’m giving you the princess treatment, if you really wanna know the truth.”
Anything she’s intending to say gets lost, swallowed by the feel of Suguru’s lips on hers and the head of his cock pushing at her entrance.
“Fuck,” he mumbles into her mouth, when he’s fully seated inside her. As good as he’s been imagining she would feel around him, the reality is that she feels even better. Suguru leans back to look down at her, making the mistake of meeting her eyes.
“Oh,” she says quietly. He doesn’t know what she sees in his expression to make her react that way, but whatever it is can’t be bad - she’s looking up at him with soft, gentle eyes.
He just might lose himself if he’s not careful.
Time to laugh it off. “Better than your best toy, right?” He pushes that smug undertone into his voice again.
He’s expecting a sharp response, something snarky and perhaps mildly insulting. What he gets instead is more of those soft, gentle eyes. She cups his face in her hands and brings his mouth to hers, kissing him in a way that feels much too intimate and romantic for the way he’s about to fuck her.
Suguru can’t figure out if it’s good or bad, and the uncertainty of it makes him want to crawl out of his skin.
He pulls his hips back, slamming them into her again hard enough to make him worry for a split second that he’s actually hurt her. The way she clenches around him and the little sound she makes is enough to put that fear to rest, and he takes her wrapping her arms around him as permission to keep going.
So he does.
He pounds into her hard, registering that he’s probably going too hard but not really able to stop himself. Tit for tat, he thinks, hissing as he feels her nails raking down his shoulders in a way that he’s sure will break the skin. Her hips rock up to meet his on every thrust, his balls slapping against her ass.
“Quit clawing at me like a damn bobcat,” he grunts between thrusts, his hair falling around her like silk and tickling her shoulders as he lowers his head to her neck. The retort that’s halfway out of her mouth dies on her lips when his teeth make contact with her skin. He wants to bite her hard enough for it to hurt, but his mouth and his brain are misaligned in their interests and he ends up sucking desperately at the place where her neck meets her shoulder.
“S-Sugu--ruuu,” she wails in a stuttering breath, and he feels a little bit vindicated because of it. She’s been so damn quiet, and that isn’t what he wants. He wants her loud. He wants her saying his name over and over like she’s praying to a god. He wants her drooling and stupid with her eyes rolled back in her head and her brain gone dumb as he gets her drunk on and addicted to the feeling of his cock.
He wants to completely unmake her.
The thought stabs him in the side with an unexplained pang of guilt, but he ignores it. “Still think it’s shitty, Valerie?” He pants, his breath warming the side of her face. “Still thinking about my cheap mattress and all that other unnecessary shit?”
She stares back up at him, and there it is: that glazed-over, fucked-out look he’s been waiting for.
She wonders if he can see the thoughts in her head… if he knows just how good it feels, how her sweat-slicked body is surrounding him in all the ways she can be. Her arms encircling his broad shoulders, her legs wrapped tightly around his hips, her pussy stretched and stuffed full of his cock. Suguru is bigger than her toy - she’s sure of it now - and she wonders absently if she will ever be satisfied with anything other than him for the rest of her life.
She isn’t sure what he’s reaching for when his hand leaves her side, and understanding of what’s in his hand when it returns doesn’t dawn on her until she feels the vibrations of it.
“Y-you,” is all she has time to get out before he works the little purple toy between their bodies to place it right up against her clit. He stills his hips, but it doesn’t blunt the vibrator’s effect on her. “That’s not fair,” she gasps, her voice pitched high and thin as her control slips.
“I’m just being a gentleman,” he laughs stiltedly. One look at him is all it takes for her to understand that his own control is slipping - he’s sweating too, tendrils of damp hair stuck to his face and his muscles taut with the effort to keep himself in check. “Yeah,” he says, as though she’s asked him a question. “So go ahead and come for me first… hm?”
Val hates that her body chooses that moment to do exactly that, her climax syncing with his words as though what he’s said is a command for her to obey. Suguru tosses the vibrator over the side of the bed, and she doesn’t have time to wonder whether or not its clattering fall to the floor has broken it before his lips are on hers, tongue bullying its way into her mouth much the same way his cock is bullying its way in and out of her spasming walls.
He doesn’t pull out of her when he comes, just pushes into her as deep as he can and buries his teeth in the tender flesh of her left breast. The bite is more pleasurable than painful. Still, she lets out a little yelp that prompts him to drag his lips across the spot, soothing it with his tongue.
The two of them stay as they are for a few minutes after, chests rising and falling in tandem as they try to catch their breath. She threads her fingers through his hair, apologizing to him without words for all the places she’s yanked at it and massaging his scalp to alleviate the soreness.
He slips out of her and she tries not to wince, but her thighs are achy from being pushed open so wide and for so long. “Okay… I guess I need to add more flexibility training to my weekly rotation,” she manages with a laugh. Suguru doesn’t respond. His gaze is trained between her legs, and he’s got two fingers pressed against her pussy, gently prodding at her. “Suguru… what are you doing?”
“Putting the cream back in the pie,” he murmurs. He watches his cum leak out of her, catching it with those same two fingers and pushing it back inside of her. There’s no pang of guilt in his side anymore, but the feeling that has replaced it is something he’s only ever felt a variation of, and not in a long time.
It feels… almost proprietary, seeing a part of him leaking out of her. It speaks to something long-forgotten inside of him, that urge to stuff it all back into her body and to keep that piece of him there with her.
Valerie is about to tell him how bad his joke was when she catches sight of the expression on his face. She gets the sense that while what Suguru has said was meant to sound like a joke, the meaning behind what he’s doing isn’t lighthearted at all. So she keeps quiet, letting him continue what he’s doing and feeling the warmth radiate off of his body as she plays in his hair.
“So,” Suguru finally says, raising his head and resting his cheek against her abdomen so he can look at her over the swell of her breast. “How was your rebound fuck?”
It makes her laugh, even though she feels the need to set him straight about it. “It wasn’t a rebound fuck,” she says, when she’s stopped chuckling. “Rebound fucks usually happen pretty quickly after a breakup, you know.”
“Damn, that’s disappointing,” he teases her, even as he curls his arms around her waist and leans into the gentle touch of her fingertips on his sore scalp. “I wanted to be able to put that on my resume. If I’m not your rebound fuck, then what was I?”
Val is quiet for a minute, still soothing his scalp in all the places she’d pulled too hard at his hair. “Not to stroke your ego or anything, but you were pretty fucking amazing,” she admits. “I take back what I said about it being shitty,” she adds with a smile. “So now I’ll ask you again: do you treat all the women you take to bed this way?”
She asks the question, not really wanting to know the answer but feeling like it’s important to ask anyway.
“Yeah,” he answers after a moment. “It doesn’t hurt to make them feel special, even if they’re not.”
She doesn’t know how to feel about that, so she tucks the ambiguity of her emotions away and stays quiet.
Chapter Two: Coming Soon
If you would like to be tagged in updates to this work or my other fics, please let me know. :)
#tinywoodenrobot fics#black oc#jjk fanfic#jjk fic#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fic#jujutsu kaisen smut#geto suguru#geto suguru x oc#geto suguru x black oc#geto suguru smut#jjk x oc#jjk x black oc#jujutsu kaisen x oc#jujutsu kaisen x black oc
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Rusty | Chapter 16 | S.R
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Summary - You and Spencer start making plans to leave Bandera. When Spencer makes a discovery about Luke, it leads to him having a blow out with the whole BAU team before saying his goodbyes to his old friends.
A/N - there will be a time jump after this chapter and things will ramp up pretty fast. Also just to note, if it seems like Spencer takes two steps forward and five back sometimes it’s because he does. Healing is not linear and he still has a long way to go.
Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader
Category - strangers to friends to lovers | angst | smut minors DNI
Warnings - dissociation, jealousy, swearing, tears, arguing, mentions of prison and vague hints of sexual abuse, mentions of Cat Adams and Ben’s Believers, Luke and Spencer are both mean, goodbyes, sad BAU team.
WC - 6.8k
Chapter 16 - Take Your Memory With You
Grant was whistling to himself as he swept the barn floor, finishing up making the ranch look as presentable as possible. He was working tirelessly getting the place to look as orderly and neat as he could before he had a realtor round to get the old place on the market.
He was slightly wistful about the idea of selling his parents ranch but the excitement he felt about taking the next step outweighed it. He’d already eagerly been looking at homes in DC and Virginia, scouring job vacancies and preparing for his potential move.
He and Luke spoke on the phone and texted every chance Luke had available whilst working on a case he could tell Grant little about. Every time his phone went off and he saw Luke’s name on the screen he got butterflies in his stomach. He didn’t know this, but Luke also experienced the same thing when Grant texted him.
It was probably crazy that he was considering this, packing up his life and moving to the other side of the country for a man who was supposed to be a one night stand.
He’d never once allowed himself to throw caution to the wind, to do something reckless like this. He was sensible, predictable, he didn’t do things like this. But that was part of the reason he wanted to do this.
It might be insane and it might end up being the dumbest thing he’d ever done but he had to give it a try. Luke had made him feel things he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt and it was worth the risk to see if there could be something lasting between them.
As he finished sweeping, he wiped his brow on his sleeve and leant the broom against the wall of the barn. As he did so, he heard the faint sounds of footsteps on the gravel. His brows pinched together, he wasn’t expecting company.
He picked up his shotgun which was leaning near the broom but didn’t raise it, taking a few cautious steps out of the barn with it by his side. He was surprised to see Spencer headed up the path, one hand in a thick splint and the other in the pocket of his jeans. He wore a brown suede stetson which covered his mess of hair.
Grant placed the shotgun back down and rubbed his hands together as the other man slowly approached. Spencer was offering him a slightly lopsided smile as he grew closer.
“Uh, hey, sorry to just show up here like this.” Spencer rolled his lip awkwardly between his teeth.
“Not a bother.” Grant shrugged. “What can I do you for?”
Spencer removed his stetson, holding it in his good hand while he considered how to begin. He’d told you last night he was going to get moving on selling the ranch so the two of you could make a break before Luke inevitably showed back up and that’s what he was trying to do.
“I’m not going to beat around the bush.” Spencer exhaled. “I’m leaving Bandera and wondered if you were looking to acquire any more land? I’ll be leaving my cattle and two of my horses as well if that sweetens the deal. I’m not looking to break even or anything, I just need a quick sale.”
Grant narrowed his eyes on Spencer curiously, a small smile creeping to his lips.
“Well I’ll be, I was gonna ask you the same thing.” Grant chuckled deeply.
“You’re leaving too?” Spencer’s brows pinched together.
“Yeah, I’m relocating to the East Coast.”
“Oh,” Spencer pulled a face. “How come?”
Grant chuckled again before a dreamy smile spread across his features and Spencer could tell he was getting a little lost in a memory.
“I, uh, met someone.” His cheeks flushed. “I reckon it makes me a damn fool for upping sticks for a man I hardly know but he’s not like anyone I ever met before. But I’m gonna make it to DC if the creek don’t rise.”
Spencer felt a sharp pain in his chest, his vision becoming blurry around the edges. He stared at Grant as the cogs turned in his head. Surely it had to be a coincidence? It could not be feasible that Grant was talking about…no, no way.
“Uh, DC?” Spencer croaked. “Weird, that’s where I’m from.”
Suddenly Grant’s brow furrowed heavily and he sucked in a deep breath as he remembered something Luke had said before he’d left.
“Never chose this life, it chose me. Always thought I’d get out of the south one day, move to some big city, ya know? New York, LA…maybe even DC. Unless that idea scares ya.”
“Why would it…why would it scare me?”
“You seem like the jumpy sort.”
“I was still processing an old break up. It ended suddenly and I never got any closure. But I think I have now, I think I’m ready to move on.”
“Hold on a gosh darn second,” Grant shook his head. “He’s not…you’re not…”
“Luke,” Spencer exhaled. “Luke Alvez?”
Both men’s expressions fell, skin paling as they came to the same conclusion. Spencer’s head started to spin and his vision grew even hazier.
“You’re the break up he was talkin’ about.” Grant pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had no idea, Spencer.”
“It’s fine.” Spencer shook his head, his tone saying it was anything but fine. “I’ve moved on. He should too. You two would make a great couple.”
It seemed as though you and Spencer weren’t the only ones with the same taste in men. Spencer stumbled backwards at the implications, feeling lightheaded.
“If I’d known-”
“It’s really fine,” Spencer laughed but it didn’t sound genuine. “You’ll love DC, it’s great. Uh, I should probably…go.”
Before Grant could say another word, Spencer was turning and running back down the path towards the road. Grant watched him go with a sigh. Of all the men in the world, he’d ended up in bed with Spencer’s ex. And clearly Spencer was not as fine with it as he made out.
***
When Spencer arrived back at the ranch he was in a complete daze. You found him wandering outside the lodge aimlessly. His eyes were unfocused, he wouldn’t respond to your voice or to your touch.
You led him inside but he didn’t even seem to realise what was happening. You sat him on the couch and went about breaking him out of his dissociation. You placed ice cubes in his hand, got him to drink some honey and lemon tea and used the photograph of his mom to snap him out of it.
You knew he’d gone into town to ask around if anyone was interested in buying his land, what had led to his dissociation? You wondered how long he had been in this state for, how long he had been wandering around like a zombie. You were grateful he’d made it back without hurting himself.
It took close to fifteen minutes but suddenly his eyes were present again and he looked at you with a frown, melted ice dripping from his hand onto the floor.
“Hey you,” you whispered with a soft smile. “You okay?”
Spencer blinked rapidly, looking down at what was left of the ice cubes in his hand, noticing the citrus flavour on his tongue and the photograph of his mother on the coffee table.
“Wh-what happened?” He croaked as if he’d just woken up.
“I was kinda hoping you could tell me.” You quickly got up and went to the kitchen for some napkins.
You hurried back and scooped the last of the ice from his palm before giving him the napkins to dry himself off.
“I…I have no idea.” He shook his head.
He was lying. He knew exactly what had happened. Grant had met Luke and the two had clearly hit it off and now Grant was moving to DC to be with him. His Luke.
No, that wasn’t fair. Luke wasn’t his and hadn’t been for a long time. It wasn’t beneficial for Spencer to think that way. He had moved on, he had you, Luke was in his past.
Spencer had never had any intention of him and Luke being together again after he moved to Bandera, that relationship never would have worked again. But it didn’t mean he stopped loving Luke, stopped caring about him. And it made his heart ache to think of him with someone else. Now he knew exactly how Luke felt.
“So, you’ve moved on, huh?”
“It’s been two years, what did you expect?”
“What did I expect? Well for starters I expected more from you than leaving without a damn word! I expected that you wouldn’t completely cut me out of your life! I expected…maybe I hoped that I wasn’t the only one still pining like an idiot. So she gets the healed Spencer Reid? She gets to have you now you’ve worked through your trauma? When I was the one that spent a year by your side after, trying to help you? How is that fair?”
———
“No one can help me! Why don’t you understand that?”
“She seemed to be doing a fine job.”
“Goddamnit, would you let that go?”
“Let it go? How the hell can I let that go? Every time I close my eyes I will see her on top of you!”
Luke had to walk in on the two of you in bed, seeing first hand that Spencer had moved on. The mere thought of Luke with Grant was enough to cause him to slip into a dissociation, he couldn’t imagine what it had been like for Luke to witness that.
“You don’t remember?” You gave him a look of scepticism and Spencer shook his head.
How could he tell you what had sent him over the edge? There was no way he could admit that this had happened because he found out Luke had moved on. Spencer loved you, he loved you more than he’d ever loved anyone. But selfishly he thought Luke would always be there. God that made him sound terrible.
“No,” Spencer pushed himself to his feet, balling the napkin up in his hand and traipsing to the trash can.
“I don’t believe you.” You stood too, folding your arms over your chest. “You’re lying to me.”
Spencer sucked in a breath and slowly turned back to look at you, clenching his jaw tightly.
“Yes I am,” he nodded. “But only because I’m trying to protect you.”
“Protect me?” You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Protect me from what?”
“If I tell you why I dissociated you will no doubt get upset and I have upset you way too many times before.” He heaved a sigh.
“Tell me.” You insisted. “Tell me right now.”
Spencer rolled his eyes a little, leaning back against the kitchen counter and glancing out of the window at the land beyond.
“I went to speak to Grant about buying the ranch and it turns out he’s also leaving town. He’s moving to DC because he met someone…” Spencer trailed off, keeping his eyes out of the window.
In his peripheral vision he saw you frowning, filling in the blanks to the sentence he didn’t want to finish and honestly it wasn’t all that hard.
“Luke?” You croaked.
“Yeah. Grant is moving to DC to be with my ex boyfriend.”
“And that caused you to dissociate.”
“Yeah.”
“Because you still have feelings for Luke.”
“Yes.” He huffed, turning his head to face you. “Of course I do. But I don’t want to be with him, okay? I want you and only you. But it surprised me and it upset me and I would understand if you were annoyed by my reaction.”
“Spence,” you exhaled, taking a few steps closer to him. “I’m not annoyed. He was a big part of your life, I understand that it would throw you through some kind of loop to find this out.”
“I really wish I didn’t love you so much.” His words surprised you as he raked his fingers over his ever growing facial hair.
“Why?” You frowned lightly.
“Because you’re too good for me.” He shrugged meekly. “Everything I’ve put you through, it’s too much. I’m a fucking wreak. Last night after we…fuck Y/N it was so amazing but when you were asleep I just…I felt numb. I should have felt something, you know? But I felt fucking numb because no matter how much I keep trying to convince myself otherwise, I’m not whole.”
Tears started down his cheeks and you came closer, placing your hands on the sides of his face and holding his gaze.
“I’m too good for you? Spencer, I murdered my step father.” You gently reminded him. “And so what if you aren’t whole? Who says you need to be?”
“I don’t care where you’ve been or what you’ve done.” He cupped the back of your neck in his good hand. “And I want to be whole, I want to give you every little piece of myself but I can’t because I lost a big part of who I am in prison.”
You cooed him, brushing his tears with your fingertips and trying to calm him down.
“As long as you can love me with every piece you have left, I’m okay with that.” You smiled before he was tugging you close for a kiss.
He could undoubtedly give you that, every shred that still belonged to him was yours. And he’d never loved you more than he did in that moment.
You were startled apart by the sound of a phone ringing. Spencer turned back to the counter where his device sat and saw the name flashing on the screen. You peered over his shoulder and saw it too.
His body went rigid and he sucked in a deep breath. His hand reached out for the phone and you saw it was trembling.
“You don’t have to answer it.” You whispered but Spencer was shaking his head.
“I need to.” He picked up the phone. “I need this to finally be over.”
Spencer took the phone and without looking at you, turned to the door and quickly left the lodge. You observed him through the window as he put the phone to his ear and continued walking in the direction of the stable.
You wrapped your arms around yourself and rolled your lip between your teeth. You just had to hope he was strong enough to handle this.
***
Spencer headed down the steps of his lodge and once his feet hit the dirt at the bottom, he answered the call. He huffed out a breath before he spoke.
“What?” He grumbled. He was met by silence for a moment or two so with a sigh he spoke again. “Hello? What do you want?”
Another short burst of silence and Spencer was grinding his teeth as he trailed up the path towards the stables.
“I, uh…” the voice croaked. “Sorry I didn’t expect you to answer.”
“Well I did. So what do you want? No, let me guess. Grant called you?” Spencer wished he could keep the bitterness from his voice but it was impossible.
“Yeah,” Luke sighed. “I’m sorry you had to find out that way.”
“Sorry I found out that way or that I found out at all?” Spencer spat, unable to calm himself.
“You don’t get to be angry, Spencer.” Luke’s voice remained calm, but was laced with his frustrations.
“I get to be however the hell I want to be.” Spencer bit back.
“I found you in bed with a woman Spencer, if you’re allowed to move on so am I.” Luke growled slightly.
Spencer reached the stable and cradled the phone between his shoulder and face while he unlatched the door with his non-splinted hand.
“I don’t care about you moving on.” Spencer scoffed. “But you could have done that with literally anyone! Why did it have to be someone I know? Someone where I live?”
“Sounds like you don’t plan to live there much longer anyway. Grant said you were trying to sell him your ranch?” Luke spoke and then Spencer heard him thanking someone under his breath.
He must be at work. Judging by the sound of him then sipping something Spencer assumed someone had just given him a mug of coffee.
“That’s why I answered your call.” Spencer walked across the stable, ignoring his horses and sitting down on the wooden crate against the far wall. “I am leaving Bandera and I wanted to tell you to stop calling me. I need a real fresh start, one where you guys can’t keep hassling me.”
“Hassling?” Luke spat. “You’re mistaking us caring for hassling?”
“Luke you guys smother me!” Spencer raised his voice, almost immediately back on his feet. “For my entire FBI career I have been the youngest on the team which means I’m babied and coddled and I’m sick of it. I am a forty year old man! I don’t need you or anyone else to worry over me like I’m a still a kid.”
“After what you’ve been through, Spencer, how can we not worry about you? It’s nothing to do with age, or you being younger than everyone else. You spent three months in prison being abused before having to face off against your rival who tried to kill your mom. Then less than a year later you were taken hostage by Ben’s Believers, you almost died.
“And then you made the decision to runaway without telling anyone, except Prentiss but I’m sure you only told her because you had to. How the hell can we not worry about you? Half of the team expected you to relapse, you know? Hell, I thought you might relapse. How the fuck can we not worry about you when you’re out there in the middle of nowhere on your own!”
Spencer had started to pace while Luke ranted down the phone, back and forth through the stable and ignoring the attention seeking huffs from the horses.
“Well I’m not on my own anymore. And I’m leaving Bandera and I’m not telling any of you where I’m going. I picked up the phone to tell you this is the end. I will be blocking your numbers, fuck I might even just destroy my goddamn phone again so there is no way of Garcia tracking me down. It’s over Luke, I don’t want anything to do with any of you anymore.” Spencer spat harshly, unable to stop his rampant pacing.
“I’d argue with you but to be perfectly honest I’m sick of this. I’m sick of worrying about you all the time, I’m sick of feeling dejected every time you ignore my calls. I am sick of the fucking Spencer Reid show!” Luke yelled.
If he was at Quantico Spencer imagined it would have garnered a lot of attention.
“The Spencer Reid show? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Spencer grumbled.
“Our entire relationship was about you. You and your goddamn trauma, even before prison! You and your daddy issues or mommy issues and your adabonment issues and your sobriety and whatever the hell else you were dealing with. My PTSD didn’t matter. I had to suppress my own trauma, trauma from serving overseas to protect the fragility of your psyche.” Luke was really shouting now and Spencer could only imagine the eyes of the team were all on him.
The rage was pooling in Spencer’s stomach, rapidly clawing its way through his body. He turned to see Rusty staring at him but it wasn’t the same wary way she usually regarded him. Her eyes were wide but docile.
Tentatively he stepped closer to her, once again cradling the phone in the crook of his neck so he could raise his hand in her direction. He moved slowly, cautiously, so as not to frighten her. But she didn’t move.
He laid his palm against the side of her face and she nuzzled into his touch. Spencer felt a little sceptical by her sudden fondness for him when she’d previously shown him nothing but disdain.
He dared entwine his fingers with the coarse hair of her mane, trying to ground himself with the texture whilst staring into her large brown eyes. She made a small noise of contentment.
“If I was such a fucking problem for you then it shouldn’t be hard to hear that I never want to speak to you again.” He fought to keep his voice levelled and under control.
Luke was breathing heavily down the phone, clearly trying to rein himself in like Spencer was.
“You…” he huffed. “You fucking broke me, Spencer. The way you left, it destroyed me. Nothing in my life has ever hurt as much as having to hear from Prentiss that you’d left without a word. I’ve spent the last two years trying to get over you, trying to move past the pain that you caused. And I have finally met someone who made me forget all about you. I’m not asking you to be happy for me, but you don’t get to be mad either.”
Spencer kept his focus on Rusty, weaving his fingers deep into her golden mane and staring unblinking in her eyes. He swallowed thickly, chewing on the inside of his cheek. This was so strange.
“Have a nice life, Luke.” He breathed out. “Tell the others I’m sorry, but I can’t do this anymore. I need to forge my own path and the only way I can do that is by cutting old ties. I’m sorry.”
“You owe them more than that.” Luke was quick to speak, feeling as though Spencer was imminently going to hang up. “At least tell them yourself. We’re all here at the BAU, let me put you on speaker?”
Spencer clenched his jaw, holding tighter to Rusty as he felt his knees buckling. He knew Luke was right, he did owe them more than him vanishing again. It didn’t mean the thought of talking to them all didn’t make him feel nauseous.
“Fine,” he croaked out before he changed his mind. “Hurry up though.”
He heard shuffling and some barely perceptible whispers. A chair scraping across the floor, footsteps and a door opening and closing.
He knew Luke’s hand was over the microphone when he spoke again as his voice was muffled but he just managed to hear what he said.
“Guys, I’ve got Reid. He wants to talk to us all.”
Spencer rolled his eyes, that wasn’t exactly true but he wasn’t going to argue it. A little more shuffling as he assumed Luke put the phone on a table and then Luke’s voice was louder.
“Go ahead Spencer, we’re all here.” Luke remained on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest.
Rossi and Emily were standing by a layout board going over the information in the Sicarius case while Tara, JJ and Penelope were at the table, the latter hovered over her laptop and the other two looking over files.
Spencer was silent. He could all but picture his old team gathered in the round table room and he felt the nerves swarm his body.
He moved his hand from Rusty’s mane to the side of her face, brushing his fingers along the silky texture of her coat. Again she didn’t seem to have any qualms about him doing so.
“Uh, hi everyone.” He spoke quietly.
At the BAU, Penelope Garcia’s hand flew to her mouth as she stifled a gasp at hearing her boy wonders voice for the first time in what had to be months at this point.
Tears flooded to JJ’s eyes, obscuring her vision as she gnawed on her lip. Tara, Rossi and Emily managed to keep their composures.
“Kid, it’s good to hear your voice.” Rossi was the one to speak.
“Hi Dave, good to hear yours too.” Spencer’s voice cracked.
“Is everything okay junior G?” Garcia couldn’t stop herself speaking.
“Yeah,” he replied. “I, uh…I told Luke that I’m leaving Bandera. I need to get away from everything for real this time. And I’m afraid that includes all of you.”
More silence swelled in the room as the six agents exchanged looks of concern and upset.
“What do you mean?” JJ’s voice gave way to her sorrow.
“I don’t think I’m ever going to fully heal while I still have one foot in DC. I love you all very much but you all remind of me the worst things that have ever happened to me. I need a clean break. Last time I left without saying goodbye and Luke reminded me that I owe you more than that. So, uh, I guess this is goodbye.” He sighed, feeling strangely emotional.
Until now he’d only let himself think of how in running away with you he would miss his ranch and the life he’d created in Texas. He hasn’t let himself dwell on the idea that it also meant cutting ties with his old team entirely.
He heard a little more shuffling, key tapping and then the device cradled against his face beeped in his ear. With a frown he removed his hand from Rusty and pulled the device into his eyeline.
Incoming FaceTime call.
He grit his teeth. Apart from Luke he hadn’t see any of their faces in two years.
“Turn your camera on, Reid.” Emily’s voice came through the speaker, commanding him like he still worked for her. “At least let us say goodbye to you face to face.”
Spencer huffed, moving to sit back on the wooden crate. His finger hovered over the button for a moment or two before he accepted it.
This was going to be tough. It was hard enough lying to them at the best of times let alone face to face. As much as he was being honest when he said he was fed up of their babying, their worry it wasn’t the full story.
He had to cut contact with them in order to keep you safe. He was choosing you over his friends. He just had to keep his expression in check so they didn’t see through to his hidden agenda.
The screen was blank for a few moments and then suddenly it was as though he was back in the BAU round table room. He could tell from the angle that Garcia had mirrored Luke’s phone screen and his image was being displayed on the large TV.
Apart from Luke, none of them were prepared to see Doctor Spencer Reid sporting scruffy facial hair, with curls down to his shoulders and longer than any of them had seen in years or wearing a denim shirt over a plain white tee. But to their credits, they hid their surprise well, including Garcia.
Spencer almost waved at them before he remembered that would mean them seeing his splinted arm. Luke could have told them already but he didn’t want to worry them any more than they already were.
Garcia and JJ at the table both had tears in their eyes and Tara was sitting in the middle of them had her hands laced together in front of her. Emily and Rossi were nearest the camera and Luke was off to the side with his arms folded.
“Wow this is weird.” His brows pinched together. “I feel like I’m in the room.”
“Are you eating?” Garcia suddenly spoke up. “You look skinnier than I remember and that’s saying something because you were always so tiny.”
“I’m eating.” Spencer nodded.
“Clearly not enough.” Penelope huffed.
“Garcia,” Emily shot her a look to silence her and the bubbly blonde shrunk a little in her chair. “You look good Reid, rugged even.”
The small quip of her lip made Spencer chuckle.
“About time.” He joked but there was still the underlying melancholy in his voice. “I really am sorry to be doing this but I just need some time. I appreciate that you all care about me, but I’m fine I swear.”
“Does this have something to do with the girl? Because it seems like odd timing.” Luke grunted as he spoke.
Spencer felt his cheeks redden but only Rossi and Tara seemed confused by what he’d said. Spencer didn’t know that Luke had already filled Emily, JJ and Garcia in on how he’d found Spencer indisposed when he’d visited.
“Girl?” Tara cocked her eyebrow at the screen.
“Uh, yeah.” Spencer pulled a face. “I guess I met someone. Thanks for telling everyone, Luke.”
“So she’s the reason you’re leaving? Why you’re cutting us all out of your life?” Luke narrowed his eyes.
“No, of course not.” Spencer shook his head. “I just need to do this.”
“Is she going with you?” Luke frowned, his jaw set.
“That’s none of your business.” Spencer spat. “Why don’t you focus yourself on your own personal life rather than sticking your nose in mine.”
“Spence,” Emily spoke in her calming manner. “Is this still about what happened to you in prison?”
Spencer’s face fell and thanks to a combination of his new phone's excellent camera and the quality of pixels on the BAU screen, they all saw it.
“Prison? With your friend Delgado?” Garcia pouted.
“Spence, we know that was hard for you.” JJ added.
“That’s not what she’s talking about.” Luke spoke up, his slightly pointed tone obvious to everyone.
“What is she talking about?” Rossi frowned looking between his Unit Chief, Luke and Spencer on the screen. “Prentiss? Alvez? What do you know that we don’t?”
“Don’t you dare.” Spencer spat. “Don’t you fucking dare tell them!”
“They have a right to know why you’re being like this.” Luke growled.
“Alvez,” Emily scolded him. “It’s not your place. And it’s not mine either.”
The other members of the BAU gave each other curious looks while Spencer tried hard to control his anger. He couldn’t believe Emily would have the nerve to bring it up. She threw it out there like a grenade but refused to pull the pin, expecting him to be the one to do it.
“What happened in prison?” It was JJ who asked, of course it was. “What don’t you want us to know?”
“It’s nothing.” Spencer hissed. “Goddamnit Emily, did you really have to say that?”
“Don’t hiss at me like that.” Emily shook her head at him angrily.
“You aren’t my boss, I can talk to you however I like.” Spencer growled. “You had no right to bring that up in front of everyone.”
“I’m your friend and I’m worried about you.” She shrugged.
“You had no right to mention it.” He repeated. “What happened to me is nobody's business but my own. So stay the fuck out of it.”
“Spencer!” Garcia gasped. “What has gotten into you?”
“I’m not the same person I was.” He grunted. “Look I didn’t want this, I don’t want to fight. I just need to say goodbye.”
Silence flooded over them all again, the impending end was heavy in the air. None wanted to speak, none wanted to bring this to its closure. So Spencer spoke again.
“You’ve all been such a huge part of my life and I love you all from the bottom of my heart.” He wasn’t entirely sure he meant to look at Luke but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from him. “You meant the whole world to me, I wouldn’t change a single second of what we had. But I have to move on, I have to heal. I’m sorry this has to be the end but it’s the only way.”
If anyone else noticed Spencer was talking solely to Luke, no one mentioned as much. But Luke knew, and he gave a soft nod as his vision blurred with tears.
“We, uh, we love you too man.” Luke replied. “You’ll always be a big part of my heart - our hearts I mean.”
The others sent their kind words Spencer’s way but he was still staring at Luke and Luke at him, eventually they fell quiet and Spencer forced his eyes off of his ex.
“Uh, bye then I guess.” Spencer shrugged.
“Bye kid, stay safe out there.” Rossi nodded at him.
“Bye Reid,” Tara smiled sadly.
“Oh I hate goodbyes!” Penelope was crying now. “Love you boy wonder, goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Spence.” JJ wiped her own eyes.
“We’ll always be here if you ever change your mind.” Emily added.
When he looked back at the space Luke had previously been occupying, it was empty. Luke was gone.
Spencer swallowed, trying to hide his upset at the fact Luke had fled in such a way before he’d technically gotten to say goodbye to him.
Before he could show how much it hurt he ended the call and sighed heavily. Before he got back up he went through their numbers one by one and blocked them before deleting their numbers. But just as he was about to do the same to Luke’s contact information, a text appeared on his screen.
📲 Luke Alvez: I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye. I really do wish you all the best but I just can’t let myself believe this is really over. I will always love you, Spencer Reid.
Spencer felt his chest tighten as he read over the words a few times. And then he blocked Luke’s number, forgetting to delete it like the others. Perhaps it had been subconscious, or perhaps he’d deliberately kept it, he wasn’t sure.
Either way he had removed them from his life so he could take this step forward without putting you in danger.
***
Two days later Spencer’s ranch was up for sale with a local realtor but the two of you didn’t have the luxury in sticking around and waiting for it to sell.
He’d managed to get another nearby rancher to take on his cattle and, somewhat reluctantly on his part, Wilbur and Franklin too. Although he didn’t have as strong of a connection with them as he did with Willow, he was going to miss his two stallions a great deal.
Spencer had purchased a horse trailer which could be hooked up to the back of your car for Rusty and Willow and the rest of the backseat and trunk were filled with Spencer’s belongings, which were mostly books.
He sat in the passenger seat while you arranged the last few things on the backseat and checked the trailer was secure, assuring Willow and Rusty with pats on their heads that they were okay.
He stared out at his lodge, the one he’d called home for two years and the For Sale sign stuck in the dirt. He was growing wistful at an alarming rate, feeling his vision blurring with unshed tears.
He’d never made a home here quite like he had in DC but for some reason this was harder to leave behind. He’d loved his apartment in the city, lived there for most of his adult life, but he’d given it up without a second thought.
Perhaps because here on his ranch in Bandera it was the life he’d chosen. DC and the FBI had been thrust upon him by Jason Gideon, not that he minded that and he was grateful for Gideon’s persistence to have him on the team. But it never really left Spencer any room to choose his own path.
With his intelligence he could have done just about anything, he’d thought he might have long ago cured schizophrenia. But Gideon had pursued him, claiming the young genius as his own prized pig for the BAU to show off. Moving to Texas was probably the first thing he’d done for himself his entire life.
Sure, he still wasn’t making any medical breakthroughs or using his brain to help the world. But this life was so simple, something he’d sorely needed after years of chasing criminals. But now instead of chasing them, he was going on the run with one.
Really if he stopped to think about it, it was insane. He’d spent fifteen years protecting and serving, bringing people like you to justice. He should just turn you in, then he could keep his ranch and not have to cut his friends out of his life.
But you had opened up Spencer’s eyes. In meeting you, Spencer finally understood why he’d never made things work with anyone else. Life just made so much sense to him now.
Relationships of any kind for him had always been about compromising pieces of himself. With Ethan he’d become subservient, as was par for the course for a first relationship he was a moldable putty in Ethan’s hands. He said and did what he thought the other man wanted whether or not Spencer himself wanted it too.
With Lila and Ivy the woman he’d had a one night stand with after Maeve’s death and Caleb with whom he’d had a six month booty call with, he’d conceded parts of himself for the sake of casual sex. He’d lessened his own values for the sake of other people. And with Maeve herself he often dumbed himself down to allow her to feel superior.
And then there was Luke, who Spencer didn’t realise until it was over just how compromised he’d let himself become. Luke was traumatised from serving overseas, needed something to focus his mind on to quell his own darkness. Spencer permitted himself to fall into the role of beta, not that it was a hard persona to emulate.
He was for the most part a submissive person, but mostly in part because he’d always been pushed into that mantle. Sometimes he thought it might be nice to have a little control in his own life, in his own decision making but with Luke that was taken away.
He didn’t mind, for the most part. But now he looked back on it there were times where he’d wished he’d been able to make even the simplest choice of what they were having for dinner or what movie to watch.
He didn’t need to be an alpha and honestly he probably wouldn’t even know what to do with that kind of dominance. But Luke coddled him as though he wasn’t able to make his own decisions, handled him with kid gloves as though Spencer was one moment away from breaking at all times.
And that was even before prison.
Even with his friends, his team, Spencer compromised himself for their own happiness and well-being. He slotted into roles that needed filling in their lives rather than forging his own. He was what people needed him to be. He was malleable. He was a hunk of clay just waiting to be sculpted by those around him.
But then he met you and he finally understood what it was like to not have to bend to the will of others, to shape himself around the demands of others.
In moving to Texas and being alone for so long he was able to start forming himself away from the ordinance of the people around him. He started to discover exactly who Spencer Reid was in his most authentic incarnation.
Upon meeting you he did not bend, he did not falter. And he found that someone actually loved him for who he was when he was just himself and not trying to appease or alter himself to be deemed fit.
So he would miss his ranch, no doubt. He would miss his friends despite the fact they barely talked anymore. But the decision to leave with you was an unimaginably easy one. You didn’t love him for the person he could be, you loved him the raw version of him, the real, uncensored Spencer Reid.
The driver’s door opened and you slid in with a smile, rolling down the window and lighting a cigarette between your lips. You turned to him as you started the engine reaching across the centre console and giving his hand a squeeze.
“You ready for this, stud?” You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Not too late to change your mind.”
He waited until you took a drag, exhaling the smoke out of the window before he gripped the back of your head and drew you close for a kiss.
“Y/N,” he spoke once he pulled back, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I have never been more sure about anything in my life. I know things haven’t always gone smoothly for us, I guess we’re both just a little…rusty.” He chuckled and you did too. “But practice makes perfect, right? And I’m fairly certain we’ll figure it out together.”
You smiled brightly at him, taking another drag on the cigarette before putting the car in reverse. Spencer took one last look at the place he’d called home for two years, wistful but excited for what the future held.
You dangled your arm out of the window and with a wink sent his way you spoke in mirth, “Well then cowboy, we better giddy up.”
@kalulakunundrum @katrina0-0 @bakugouswh0r3 @prettyboyandthefangirl @zooni92802 @babyspiderling
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem! reader#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction
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Where Have I Been?
hello lovelies. so, I started the challenege, did one day, and all of a sudden I feel off the face of the earth. I fell into a bit of a depression, and while I've managed to pull myself out, life has been busy busy busy! This is probably the 2nd busiest week of the year (the 1st will be in August, and you'll find out why). Here's an update on life:
I fly to Colorado on the 16th, so....under 5 days now. I haven't packed or anything yet, but I plan on doing that either tomorrow or Thursday. And I have to clean and prepack for when I return because....
I signed a new lease for a new place to live! I'll have roommates who I haven't met yet (I'm taking over someone lease, actually), but my lease starts August 18th. I return from Colorado on the 14th of August, so....I'm going to be very busy once I return.
I decided to call it quits on getting a 2nd job. It's going to mess up the schedule with my first job, and it would only make me 200$ more a month, which I'm not worried about missing our on since I'll still sell stuff on depop once I return from Colorado and I'm going full time at my current job.
I've gone out to lunch with my dad a few times as well, it's been really nice hanging out with him and spending time with my dad. I lucked out in the dad department and spending time with him is one of my favorite things!
I've been debating going to San Fransisco in October for an XG concert, but I don't know if I'll have the money or ability to anymore. (thank you new apartment and all those fees and expenses!)
my anxiety has been terrible. I haven't changed anything about what I do, but I did squish a lot of anxiety inducing things into the span of two weeks, which....my bad on that. Now I know, don't do that to myself.
I bought new makeup! The juvias place bronzer, charlotte tillbury setting spray, nyx eyebrow stuff, and blush, ughhh I love buying new makeup, I just wish it didn't cost money!
I've gotten better at doing my makeup! I've had people not even notice I'm wearing it because it looks natural despite being like, a full face! Thank you perfect color matches on my skin tint, foundation, and concealors!
I went to two movies with a friend. We saw the new Strangers: Chapter One and the Planet of the Apes movie. Both were definitely good, in my opinion.
I now have to plan with my boyfriend for when he needs to come down here and get his stuff and work out changing the utilities to our roommates name since I'm leaving. I don't feel like it should be my job to coordinate that, but oh well. I guess it's too hard for him and his best friend (my roommate) to call each other for once?? Ugh, men get on my nerves sometimes.
I need to ask my dad and a friend to help me move upon my return, which also means I won't be able to work that weekend, which kind of sucks.
I need to declutter my room and start throwing away things I don't want or need anymore this week to make it easier on myself when I return from Colorado but hahaha I procrastinate a lot.
I'm stressed about paying rent. I'll have to pay rent for here and rent/fees for the new place before august and then September's rent for the new place, and my new rent is about double what I pay now. so yayy, adulting and finances. I don't feel qualified to be an adult, but here I am, age 21, an adult.
That's about it for now! Lots of stress, lots of anxiety, lots of stuff happening super close together. But that's life, I guess. Forgive me for my absence from my blogs. I also stopped studying spanish for now, and my routines are non-existent. Colorado will change that, tho, for sure. I do plan on updating a little more frequently once things settle down when I'm in Colorado. but for now, it'll be kinda here and there with my posting.
thank you for all the patience and kindness, lovelies. til next time 🩷
#pink pilates girl#pink pilates princess#self development#wonyoungism#it girl#mental health#self care#that girl#physical health#self love#pink academia#pinkcore#pink aesthetic#pink#pilates aesthetic#clean girl aesthetic#clean girl#green juice girl#that girl energy#becoming that girl#it girl self care#it girl energy#studyblr#uniblr#lifeblr#college student#university student#health and fitness#feminine energy#daily routine
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WIP Intro Post
School of the Legends
Well I've decided to go ahead and do this now!
Basics
SOTL is a YA urban fantasy fairy tale retelling planned to be four books in length
Queer and disability representation and diverse ethnic representation
Ensemble cast
Multi-foci POVs in third person
Themes of family, purpose, relationships, power, self-discovery, coming of age, good and evil, destiny, and more!
About
SOTL does not follow a traditional story structure, as it has multiple plots going on at once - though they crossover and connect
In this fictional world, there are humans and fae creatures. Fae have natural magic based on what type of fae they are. Humans typically do not have magic, but there are three ways for humans to have magic.
Human Magic #1- A Gift: a small number of humans are born with a specific power or magic type, similar to a mutation
Human Magic #2- Becoming Majicked: Just like any skill, humans can learn magic. However, it is best to start from an early age and focus on one specific craft to become proficient.
Human Magic #3- Get Cursed: Despite the negative connotation, curses have expanded to mean any power acquired through another source, usually a fae. Humans are not the only beings who can become cursed.
The primary setting is an international school of teens with one of the magic types. While not a requirement, it has a specifically designed curriculum to accommodate adolescents in controlling their powers, as this is the time in which doing so will be a struggle.
Where Am I?
SOTL is unfortunately not very far along. The plot(s) is very basically outlined with only some major plot beats, vague ideas, and specific scenes planned.
A lot of characters of a variety of importance are in the process of being planned. I add to this when inspiration strikes.
I also have many books of fairy tales, legends, etc set aside to read from to get ideas, but unfortunately I've read, like, one.
Five chapters of SOTL have been written in total, and I am actually proud of them.
Tags
All SOTL related content is tagged as both #school of the legends and #sotl for convenience
#sotl update and #sotl excerpt are self explanatory and are used when relevant
All characters have their own tags
Reply to this post or send me a message if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist! (Note: I do not use this tag list as much as TSP)
@illarian-rambling @katwritesshit @wyked-ao3
#school of the legends#sotl#wip intro#intro post#my wip#writers on tumblr#writing community#writers of tumblr#writing on tumblr#writeblr#writeblr community
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