#I’m gonna try and do something with this now hello
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Could you do a drunk cuddly Steve if you're feeling up to it?
When Steve comes home to you that night, you evade his hug. “Steve, you smell awful.”
Steve flinches away from you. In any other moment, you’d notice how lovely he looks —there’s something special about the way he squints when he’s pissed off— but his smell is overpowering.
“Sorry?” he asks, offended and confused.
“You’ve got stuff all down you. What is that?” You try to be kinder. It’s not like he smells bad on purpose. “Do you need help?” you ask.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m gonna take your shirt off,” you say gently.
His scowl relaxes. “You are?”
“What is it, do you know? It doesn’t even smell like beer. It smells like death.”
Steve doesn’t laugh at your joke, he’s not as smiley as you’d like him, but you suppose that’s the perils of telling him he smells. You grab the ends of his shirt and you pull it over his head, careful not to get the wet part on his face, and then you snag a packet of makeup wipes off of your vanity and pull on out to wipe down the skin near his heart that’s still shiny.
“That’s nice,” he says, swaying at your touch.
“Yeah?” You fold the wipe and rub him down. “I’m gonna put that shirt in the laundry. Get in bed, sweetheart.” You touch his face quickly. “Make yourself comfy.”
You forbid his gross shirt to the laundry basket in the bathroom and take a moment to stretch. Steve, though drunk, isn’t doing his usual sweet brigade. You must’ve really offended him when you said he smells. You aim to put it right.
“Sorry,” you say, pushing open your door again. Steve’s done as you told him to do, sitting on his usual side of your bed. “That was mean. You didn’t smell awful, just the shirt.”
You climb onto the bed and kneel in front of him, stroking a perfect lock of hair back from his forehead. “Forgive me?”
Steve winds his arm behind your back. He presses his face to yours, before his head falls into the curve of your neck, where it stays.
“I’m sorry for being gross,” he says, heartily drunk.
“You’re not gross, the beer just surprised me,” you say.
It’s clear he drank more than he tipped, his movements wobbly, but his hand curling protectively behind you in a good effort.
“Oh, hello,” you murmur, “this feels like forgiveness.”
“Some asshole tipped beer on me, I’m sorry.”
“Steve, it’s okay! Don’t say sorry, you smell just fine now.” You take a performative sniff of his hair. “You smell amazing.”
He squeezes you and pushes you down into the bed. He has just enough wits about him to be careful about your head on the headboard, shifting over you, and pulling the blankets up to cover your shoulders. His naked torso presses against your arm, your chest and your stomach, his skin feverishly warm.
“Do you think you can call me sweetheart again?” he asks strangely.
“That depends, will it make you feel better?”
He scoffs, which is more like him. “I won’t beg.”
“No, you asked nicely enough the first time,” you say agreeably.
When he leans back and pulls you into his chest, you feel forgiven for certain. Slowly, you let your nose skirt along the curve of his neck before kissing the shadow of his Adam’s apple.
“Sweetheart,” you say, barely audible, “I love you.”
He’s like an octopus from that point onward. You’re dragged flush to his front with your hand on his collar, his nose and mouth pressed to your forehead. He’s soft underneath you but not without muscle, a strong bicep behind your shoulders squeezing you securely even as he mumbles drunkenly into your skin. “Love you…” And finally, finally, he seems to recuperate from your accusation, “It’s weird when you don’t wanna hug me.”
“I always do. It was purely olfactory related.”
“Ol-what-ery?”
“It wasn’t personal.”
Steve squeezes you until you sigh. “It felt personal.”
“It wasn’t. I just blurted it out. You smell really nice now,” you say, and he does, cologne and skin and sweat, too.
“So you still love me?” he asks.
“I just said I did, didn’t I?”
He wrestles you with both great care and great clumsiness to his face for a tipsy kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth. “Can you tell me again?”
You offer to say it a hundred times, but after twenty he’s snoozing into your shoulder, his thumb stuttering where it lays against your back.
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington#steve harrington fic#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington drabble#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#stranger things
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industry’s favourite lovebirds
🎶 now playing: perfume – nct dojaejung
P: Choi Yeonjun x Fem!Idol!Reader
S: A deep dive into the lives of the lovebirds of the industry, from their first meet to where they are today.
G: fluff, narrative fiction
W: guess who’s back!!! I SWEAR IM ALIVE but my writing has definitely gotten shittier after a year long absence cuz it gets difficult trying to come up with lots of different stories and furthermore writing them!! pls lmk if i should add any warnings to this i am trying my best :>
view the full perfume collection.
please interact if you enjoy!
“Are you two ready?”
“Yes.” You both replied, fidgeting anxiously in your seats.
At first, you hesitated at the request for this interview. However, the company had explained what would happen in such great detail that you accepted, as did Yeonjun.
When you arrived at the studio, they further explained what kind of questions were gonna be asked, the atmosphere, and the idea of making it a safe space for both of you. If at any point you two were uncomfortable, you were allowed to back out or move onto another question.
Two comfy white chairs situated rather close together sat in front of the camera. One had a fox plushie, and one had a pair of headphones— your representative emojis.
“Are you nervous?” Yeonjun asks, looking at you.
“A little.” You chuckle, your hand brushing against his.
The director behind the camera sits in his chair with a stern, but welcoming expression. He begins to speak.
“And… action!”
The interviewer did not have a microphone; her voice was soft, yet loud enough to be picked up on the microphone.
“Alright, let’s have you guys introduce yourselves.”
“Hello, I’m Y/N.”
“And I’m Yeonjun.”
You both wave to the camera.
“How does it feel to be known as the lovebirds of the industry?”
Yeonjun speaks up. “Well… we certainly weren’t expecting it. I mean, if we weren’t idols, I’m sure we would’ve just been a regular couple. But we take pride in that label, and we carry it out together.”
“Now, on behalf of everyone, we’d like to know how this all started. When did you two first meet?”
Yeonjun puckers his lips in thought before speaking again. “If we’re talking first-first meet.. it wasn’t long after TXT debuted.”
“Yeah, I was still a trainee.”
─────────
You were parched. And the water machine was broken. The other one was empty. You still had some weird thing against sink water.
So when you were about to buy water from the vending machine in the building, you were pissed to find out there was none left. You just missed it.
You groan in defeat as you head to the elevator, waiting for the door to open. You’re too busy cursing the world in your head to notice someone tapping you on the shoulder.
“Hey.”
The voice finally makes you turn around, and you’re greeted by a familiar face standing in front of you.
“Yeonjun.” You mutter. “Hi, um, is there something you need?”
“Take this.” He hands you a bottle of water— the same brand that was in the vending machine. “You grabbed the last one?” You ask.
“Yeah. You look like you need it more than I do.”
“Do you want me to pay you back? I can–“
“No, it’s fine. Just take it.”
“Are you sure?”
“I insist.”
You reluctantly take the bottle from him. “Thank you…” Your meek reply is followed by aggressive chugging, almost downing the bottle in one swift gulp. Sighing contentedly, you enter the elevator with him following behind you.
You’re unsure of how to ease the awkwardness in the air. “Um… congrats on your debut.” You say.
“Oh. Thanks. Have you… are you still training?”
“I’m debuting soon. Hopefully.”
“Really?”
You put my hand over your mouth. “I don’t think I was supposed to say that.”
He chuckles. “Don’t worry, it happens. Beomgyu almost revealed too much before our debut whenever we were out together.”
You smile.
His eyes land on you. “I’m looking forward to it.”
The elevator door opens, Yeonjun standing up straight to walk off the elevator. “Bye, Y/N.”
“Bye–“ You manage to reply before the door closes fully.
He knew your name.
─────────
“Really? Is that what you thought?” Yeonjun smiles, holding back a laugh.
“Well, I hadn’t debuted yet, so I was surprised!”
“I remembered seeing you in the halls when I was a trainee, and I asked what your name was since we had the same dance instructor.”
“You remembered?” You look at him in awe.
“It’s hard for me to forget a pretty face.”
You laugh and look away, embarrassed by the sudden compliment.
“How did you guys find out you liked each other?”
This time, you answer. “Yeonjun and I had each other’s KakaoTalks, so we’d been keeping in touch. We did it really carefully, so only our members ended up found out. As for how we found out…”
─────────
You notice an unfamiliar, alluring scent coming from Yeonjun. “New perfume?”
“Yes, how’d you know?”
“It’s strong. And not like the one you usually wear.”
“Is it too much?” is what he said, but he was really thinking about the fact that you noticed the change.
“A little… but I like it.”
“Yeonjun, I thought you were getting us drinks…” One of his group members, who you recognized as Beomgyu, came up behind him.
“I am, I’m just waiting…”
“Y/N! I really liked your solo song, but Yeonjun likes it even more.” He nudges Yeonjun’s arm.
“Hey, cut it out.” Yeonjun nudges Beomgyu even harder to make him stop.
“He won’t stop listening to it. He has it on repeat 24/7.” You look at Yeonjun, surprised, as he can’t meet your gaze. “Really?”
“Is she the girl you said you liked? She looks a lot like her.” Beomgyu’s clearly said too much since Yeonjun glares at him while your eyes go wide. “I’m sorry?” Your gaze shifts over to Yeonjun.
At that, a tray of iced americanos and chocolates are served, Beomgyu picking up the tray at once. “Well, I’ll bring this back down since you two are still chatting.” Yeonjun quickly swipes his own drink from the counter as Beomgyu waves a quick goodbye before making his way to the elevator.
“So…” You look at Yeonjun as your own order is served. “You like me?”
He’s at a loss for words, unsure of how to respond. There was no use of lying anyways. “I guess you could say that…” He mutters, watching you sip from your straw as his grip on his own cup gets tighter. “I get that we can’t move forward with this. Call it admiration.”
“But do you really like me?”
He pauses again. “Yes. I do.” This time, he sounded more sure.
“What do you like about me?”
Lost in thought, Yeonjun recollects everything he knows about you. “A lot. Um, I like your smile. I like your resilience. I like the way you aren’t afraid to take creative liberty with your projects. I… admire your leadership. You take such good care of your members that I can understand why you all have such good harmony. I’m envious of that sometimes.”
What struck you deeply was the fact that the qualities he listed had nothing to do with your appearance. It was merely who you were as a person. For him to love the aspects of you that were apparent but subtle, it made you fall in love with him almost instantly.
“I, um–“
“Let’s walk and talk. I mean, while we go back to work.”
“Yes– yes, of course.”
It takes a few extra seconds for the elevator door to close after you both entered. “Y/N, I understand we can’t… y’know. You’re probably preparing for your next comeback and–“
“I want to try and make this work.”
He looks at you, dumbfounded. “Really? But–“
“I know there’s risks. I know our careers could be ruined. But… no one’s ever talked about me in the way you did. I wouldn’t mind losing my fame if it meant being with someone that truly appreciates me.”
He feels his face heat up, struggling to find the right words again. “So… so– you like me too.”
This time, your eyes stray from his. “Yeah. Maybe just a little bit.” You both laugh at the situation you found yourselves in. What a coincidence. “We have to be really careful. We might already be busted from the cameras in here.”
“I don’t think they pick up audio.”
You sigh. “That’s a relief.”
The elevator door opens on your floor. “I’ll see you later.” You say, stepping off.
“I’ll text you!” Yeonjun replies as the doors begin to close on him.
So much just happened in the span of 15 minutes.
─────────
“Thank you, Beomgyu for oversharing.” You laugh. “What happened when you got back to your dorms after?”
“I yelled at him.”
“Why?”
“I got mad at him but then also told him thank you but didn’t tell him why I said thank you.”
You snicker, placing your hand on the armrest of the chair.
“So, I’m assuming he asked you out first?” The interviewer asks.
“Yes, I did.”
“And how was that?”
─────────
It’s late at night, and you’re dropped face first on your couch while the broadcast of Inkigayo plays faintly in the background.
“Y/N, are you okay?” Your roommate and member, Haeun, asks, staring at you with great concern on her face. You tiredly hold up a thumbs up as she walks into her room. “Goodnight…” She says.
“Night…” You reply, half-asleep.
A knock at the door drives you out of your sleepy state as quickly as it had settled in. You approach slowly, planning to mutter a few words and get it over and done with until you see who’s at the door.
“Yeonjun.”
You looked like a hot mess right now, buried in the length of your hoodie with your hair unkept and messy. “What– what are you doing here?” You ask, desperately trying to make yourself look the least bit presentable.
He looks around quickly before pulling out a bouquet of flowers from behind, enjoying the surprised look on your face.
“Y/N, can I take you out on a date?”
For as long as you have been talking, you never expected to be asked out on your first date like this, so sudden and unexpected.
“Are you serious?” You ask, taking the bouquet from him in awe.
He nods. “I figured sooner is better than later to ask you so I can plan stuff out and–“
“Of course I’ll go on a date with you!”
The brightest smile appeared on your face, contrasting with how you looked at the moment, but Yeonjun didn’t seem to mind. All he cared about was the pure bliss that came from your reaction, and the mutual feeling of excitement that lingered between the two of you.
“But… this is really sudden; where did this come from?” You ask, looking at him.
“I didn’t want to wait anymore. I like you, you like me, I really enjoy talking to you and I just– I know we can make this work.”
You’re stunned, merely staring at him and the flowers without a word.
“How do you know for sure?” You finally speak.
“How do you think we’re still talking like this without anybody else finding out?”
When you don’t respond, he chuckles, messing up your hair like how it looked before. His hand moved down to your cheek, watching your eyes move from his hand to his face as he cupped your face.
“I’ll get going, otherwise I’ll worry the rest of my group.”
“Okay.” You respond, breathless.
“I’ll see you tomorrow? Hopefully we can talk more.”
“Yeah.” Your tone is airy and light as if you’re stuck in a dream. He chuckles again at your reply, pinching your cheek. “Bye, Yeonjun…”
“Bye Y/N. Get some rest.” He says as he walks away. When he’s a safe enough distance, you lean against the door until it’s completely shut, locking it as your mind races at a million miles per second.
The door to Haeun’s room opens as she looks at you with wide eyes. “What happened here?” She asks.
“Nothing! Nothing happened!” You panic walk into your own room as Haeun trails behind you, bombarding you with a bunch of questions.
“Y/N, who are those from?!”
“Nobody!”
“Who was at the door? Tell me!”
“No! No one was at the door!”
“Y/N!”
─────────
“You came when I looked like a mess; I was so embarrassed…”
“You looked cute.” You pinch his cheek as he pouts playfully, hand subconsciously resting on top of his.
You aren’t used to it, holding hands with him in a professional setting like this. But the feeling is natural, comfortable, and welcoming. You both could hear a collective “aww” from the crew behind the camera, making you both giggle.
Though unprompted, you elaborate on the topic. “So… Yeonjun loves talking about our first date for some odd reason.”
He sighs. “It was the moment that I knew you were the one for me.”
“We snuck out and ate barbecue.” You scoff.
“Then had a drunken walk home. I got to hold you in my arms for the first time.”
“Don’t remind me of that…”
He chuckles again, thumb brushing over the back of your hand.
“You were cute.”
─────────
“Yeonjun, I can walk on my own juuuuuussst fiiiinne…” You stumble over your own feet, prompting him to catch you.
“Let’s go back home.” He laughs, supporting you with your arm wrapped around his shoulders.
“Noooo, not yeeet…”
“I didn’t expect you to get so drunk…” He mutters.
“Yeonjun, you’re so nice…” Your words slur together, almost unintelligible. “And you’re so handsome too… you should dye your hair darker! Black! Black would look good!” Your hand goes up to play with his hair. “How are you so handsome, it’s confusing…”
“I’m– I’m not that handsome–“
“Yes, you aaaareee!” Your hands messily cup his face. “Your eyes, your lips, your entire face…” You lean into his shoulder again, letting him support you once more. “And nice… so nice…”
“Thank you, Y/N…”
“You treat me so well… I’ve never been–“ You hiccup. “–been so deserving. Why are you so nice?! Am I too mean? People– people say I’m mean sometimes.”
“You aren’t mean, Y/N…” He starts, preparing to ramble about something you probably won’t remember the next morning. “I think… you just want everyone to work hard so they do their best, and you’re taking charge of that role. You’re really influential, Y/N. And…” He mutters softly. “You’re also really beautiful.”
You giggle. “You really think so?”
A smile creeps onto his face. “I know so.”
When he reaches your dorm room, he waits patiently for your roommate to open the door after a failed attempt to find your keys in your bag. The door opens with an unfazed Haeun.
“I’ll take care of her.” She takes you off his arms.
“No– Haeun! I wanna stay with Yeonjun!”
“Yeonjun needs to go and rest!”
“But I miss Yeonjun!”
“You saw him 5 seconds ago! He’s still at the door!” She helps you into your room before rushing back to the door. “Thank you.” She mutters quietly, closing the door quickly.
“Haeun, where is Yeonjun!?”
“Back at his dorm!”
“Yeonjun!”
─────────
“‘Yeonjun! I miss Yeonjun!’” He mocks, laughing at the memory. “I could hear you from outside your dorm.”
“I get really whiny when I’m drunk, don’t blame me!”
“I like taking care of you anyways, so it works out for me.”
“Speaking of which– Yeonjun gets me a lot of gifts. Surprises me out of nowhere.”
“And do you still have them?” The interviewer asks, making Yeonjun look at you hopefully.
“Yes, I do.” I smile. “There’s usually flowers in my dorm because he gives me so many, and all the plushies he gave me I still have in my room.”
“Which one is your favourite?” He asks.
“The first one you ever got me. You named it Daniel.” You recall as a proud look appears on his face. “My English name. So it reminds you of me.”
“And it was a fox too, wasn’t it? You posted a few photos.” The interviewer speaks up again, receiving some nods from you. “It was your soft launch for your relationship… but people didn’t really know at the time, did they?”
You agree. “Right, because… my manager ended up finding out, unsurprisingly, but it took them a while to figure it out. The companies knew, but the public didn’t. We really did our best to keep it as private as possible, but I couldn’t help it.”
“We actually have that post pulled up right now…” The post shows up on the monitor; it feels so nostalgic looking back at them.
“This was when I had blonde hair! Ah, that was so long ago…” You sigh, reliving all the memories at once merely from those photos alone.
“You’re so pretty, Y/N.” Yeonjun says out of nowhere, eyes glued to the screen. “Why, what– what did I do?” You laugh at the sudden compliment. “Do you like my hair dark or light like that?” You point at the screen.
“Dark. We match.” He smiles as certain parts are focused on the screen.
“So here’s your caption.”
daniel 🦊❤️
Yeonjun chuckles softly as he reads his own name.
“And the comments…”
The comments— well, at least one half of them:
Y/N SO PRETTYYY
such cuties
that’s gonna sell out so fast now 😭
AWWWW
The other half:
YEONJUN?
GUYS I MIGHT BE TRIPPING BUT ISNT YEONJUN’S NAME DANIEL…
im like 95% sure shes talking ab yeonjun
yeonjun’s english name is daniel and his emoji is a fox erm do you have something to spill y/n
“Now what did you think of everyone’s reactions to the post?”
“Well… my fans are quite smart but only some people figured it out, which surprised me. I saw all the articles made on it and honestly, I read them for fun. I remember sitting with Yeonjun in my dorm and scrolling through everything while laughing. I’m glad it didn’t turn into a whole thing, though. We were in the clear.”
“Yeonjun, what was your soft launch?”
“Y/N talked about her favourite song during a live and I posted it on my story. I picked the lyrics that reminded me most of her.”
“That’s smart, I should’ve been discreet like you…” You mutter.
“Less people noticed compared to Y/N, but somehow there was still an article on it? I thought it was funny when I read the whole thing.”
“Was it fun watching people speculate about your relationship?”
“Yes.” You both replied, in sync.
“And how was it when you both finally announced it?”
─────────
‘We have discussed with both artists and have confirmed they are in a relationship together…’
“Wow. Just like that?” You ask yourself as you read the statement over and over again.
“They’re blunt about it… and they did discuss it with us.”
You look over at Yeonjun, who’s clearly glued to his phone. “What did you just post?”
“How did you know?!” He groans. “I always know.” You go to his Instagram account and see he did, in fact, post something, but you were in the frame. You tap on it immediately to see multiple photos of the two of you, sometimes just you.
surprise ☺️💕
You stare at the caption as the comments begin to flood with shock and utter disbelief while Yeonjun speaks up. “I’ve been waiting to do that for so long.” You can hear the smirk in his voice.
“You’re gonna get in so much trouble.”
“For loving you? I can take it.” He gets up from the couch and walks over to you, putting his phone in his pocket. “We should… lay low for a few days.” He suggests.
“No shit…”
“Language.”
“You were swearing over the phone a few days ago.”
“Inexcusable.”
Haeun bursts through the door, holding her phone out in front of her with Yeonjun’s post open, panting aggressively. “What the fuck is this?!” She yells.
“So much for language…” You mumble, feeling Yeonjun nudge you.
“Are you angry? Happy? I mean, you already knew…” He shrugs, mostly nonchalant.
“I’m very aggressively excited for both of you and extremely worried for Y/N.”
“What about me?” Yeonjun chuckles.
“I can hear your members screaming right now. They’re feeling the same things I am.”
Yeonjun feels his face heat up as you giggle beside him. “I guess we just have to wait and see how this all plays out.” You say, kissing his cheek. Haeun stares at the two of you in pure shock.
You smile at her. “What? You act like you’ve never seen us together before.”
After spending some time with you (and Haeun third wheeling) in your dorm, he goes back to his own, unlocking the door and entering without a second thought.
“I’m home.”
He isn’t fully aware of his surroundings, nearly getting a heart attack seeing Beomgyu in front of him.
“Ah– what the hell, man?”
“Yeonjun…” Beomgyu sniffles, though obviously not sad. “You’re actually so lame…”
“Huh? What did I do?”
“You testify to the executives and didn’t even mention my name once?!”
“He’s all butthurt because you didn’t give him credit for getting you guys together.” Taehyun chimes in.
Beomgyu fake sniffles again. “They never give the right people credit…”
“Hey, cut it out, Beomgyu, it already happened.” Soobin puts his hand on the sobbing man’s shoulder, as if he’d already dealt with this behaviour before.
“I’ll say something about you, Beomgyu, don’t worry.” Yeonjun reassures as if he was talking to a child.
“And give me the credit for getting you guys together?”
“What? No.”
“Fair enough.”
“Yeonjun, what are you gonna do now?” Hueningkai approaches him with his phone opened, showing articles upon articles posted online.
Yeonjun chuckles. “I guess… we’ll just have to wait and see how this all plays out.”
─────────
“And then there was that time on Suchwita with you and Taehyun?” The question is obviously directed towards Yeonjun, who lets out a light laugh.
“Ah, yes, I drunk called Y/N during filming…”
“He did more than that, by the way.”
“Do you really have to tell them what happened?”
“You get to tell a story about me being drunk, I get to tell a story about you being drunk.”
─────────
“Yeonjun? Yeonjun, are you there?” Suga giggles at his guest’s drunken state. “Huh?”
“Ah, okay, he’s still alive.” Taehyun jokes.
“Yeonjun, how is everything with Y/N?” Suga asks. Yeonjun’s face suddenly lights up at the question. “Oh, Y/N…” He says dreamily, drunkenly smiling.
“Y/N’s the… prettiest girl in the world… she’s super talented and she… scolds me a lot, sometimes when I drink too much…”
Suga’s gaze shifts between Yeonjun and the camera. “So you’re going to get scolded for being on this show then?”
Yeonjun tiredly lifts his head up, facing the camera. “Y/N, I’m… sorry!”
“Yeonjun, what are you doing?” Taehyun looks over at the older member, seeing him pull his phone out and open your contact. Suga realizes what’s going on. “Are you calling her?”
You pick up. “Hello?”
“Y/N!” Yeonjun drags as he speaks into the phone. “Y/N, I love youuuu.” He hiccups.
There’s nothing on the other end for a few seconds.
“…Are you drunk?”
His face drops. “I’m sorry, Y/N…” You can practically hear him pouting on the other end.
“Yeonjun, I told you to be careful while filming…”
“I know…”
“How much soju did you drink?”
“It’s whiskey.” Taehyun cuts in.
You mentally facepalm as you hear drunken sappy love confessions spill from Yeonjun’s mouth. But you can’t deny how flustered it’s making you.
“Seriously? It isn’t as strong, but…” You sigh. “Please take care of him, Taehyun.”
“Bye Y/N, I… love… you!” Yeonjun stumbles over his words, per usual, giggling into the phone.
You pause. “I love you too, Yeonjun. Take care.”
You hang up since he’s clearly too out of it to do it himself.
“Yeonjun, you’re embarrassing.” Taehyun deadpans, making Suga laugh from the other end of the table.
─────────
“You two just continue to go viral.” The interviewer laughs off camera, making the both of you laugh as well.
“Our relationship is like any other, yet people really make it seem like it’s a big deal…” Yeonjun states with an awkward expression on his face.
“This is a first step towards more open relationships in K-pop. How does it feel paving the way for such opportunities for other idols?”
“Honestly… we got really lucky. I think everyone was more surprised than angry? Of course, there was still hate, but it didn’t really affect me. I was more concerned about the safety of my group and his group rather than myself. I promised to take the blame for anything directed towards us, but not a lot ended up coming.” You explain, looking over at Yeonjun for him to elaborate.
“Yes, we were very fortunate to not have so much hate after we announced everything. It’s nice seeing the fans so supportive, it’s really cute.” He chuckles just thinking about it. “I think… me and Y/N were on the same page with enduring the hate on behalf of our groups. It was a natural instinct for both of us since we were the direct subjects of the news. I wouldn’t wanna be caught up in this with anybody else.”
─────────
“This is new, isn’t it?” You say, referring to the interview that just wrapped up.
Both you and Yeonjun were waiting in the dressing room, seated together.
“Mhm. I enjoyed it, did you?” He replies.
“Yeah. I think we gave them a lot of content to work with.”
“Any more and the video would be an hour… this shoot would’ve been longer.”
“How could it go on for longer? We were chatting for hours!”
“Maybe we should apologize to the staff later.”
“We should.”
Yeonjun’s hand brushes over yours, and no matter how many times he does it, it always gives you butterflies in your stomach. While your face shows no change, he knows how it makes you feel, and how you feel right now.
He’s the only person that knows.
“I enjoyed that filming, really. We could be ourselves, no judgement.” He laces his fingers with yours. “I could hold your hand.”
Your eyes finally meet his, the look you two exchange full of love and gratitude.
“I’ve never felt so comfortable addressing everything.” You reply.
“Maybe you just needed some support.” You feel Yeonjun gently squeeze your hands reassuringly. “Was I enough for that?”
“You are and will always be enough for me and everyone, ‘junie.”
You see his gaze falter slightly, as he blurts out, “I really want to kiss you right now.”
His sudden words catch you off guard and have you stifling a laugh. “Really?” He nods in reply.
“I mean, if we can hold hands, we can surely kiss, can’t we?” You say.
“What if someone walks in on us?”
“They watched clips of us slow dancing, that is so much more embarrassing.”
Yeonjun chuckles at that, leaning forward. He’s too lost in your eyes to remember why his face is so close to yours until you finally close the distance, his lips against yours.
He tastes as sweet as his words and moves as meaningful as his desires. His hand goes to cradle your jaw while yours fall down to his shoulders.
He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes lovingly. He gets lost again but is brought back by the sound of your voice. “How was that?”
“Exhilarating.”
You laugh at his choice of words.
For a little while, the world is confined to you and him on the comfiest dressing room couch you’ve ever sat on, telling silly inside jokes at the ceiling while hand in hand.
The one thing that remains constant is you and him.
You wouldn’t have it any other way.
baby i’m comfortable with you, and you’re comfortable with me 🎧
#yeonjun#choi yeonjun#fanfiction#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun x you#yeonjun x y/n#txt x reader#txt#txt fluff#txt yeonjun#yeonjun txt#txt imagines#tomorrow by together#tomorrow x together#yeonjun tomorrow x together#txt x you#txt x y/n
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I’d like to thank YouTube auto translate for the amazing screenshots I got while watching the Puyo Puyo stageplay
They were playing house. Satan got stuck being the dog/cat and nobody wanted to be a grandma
Here’s an honorable mention from the website for the stageplay
#personally I think it’s funny to imagine the Puyo cast dropping everything they’ve been doing to just#come together to play house on Thursdays#and the fact that Schezo is the mom makes me happier#can someone who’s a better artist than me draw this please lol#Puyo plays house#help#Ari thinks he’s so funny#Puyo Puyo#Puyo#Puyo on stage#Puyo the stage#Schezo Wegey#the dark prince#ringo ando#Arle and Carbuncle#I’m gonna try and do something with this now hello
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List of “sweet and intimate actions which make me go feral and have me folding like a folding chair” prompts
Character B carding their fingers through Character A’s hair and playing with the strands.
Character B peeling back the neck of Character A’s turtle neck sweater to trail gentle kisses down their neck. (This!! It is so hot, and it's everything I didn't know I needed until now, and I cannot stop thinking about it wlkfnlkwe)
Character B placing their arm around Character A’s waist while in public, resting their chin on Character A’s shoulder. “Hello,” they say in a teasing tone as Character A tries to grab ahold of their hand to keep it there but fails a few times before successfully doing so.
Leaning against each other while in public.
Spooning and back hugs.
Character B letting Character A rest their head on their chest; lets them listen to their heart beat.
Character B whispering sweet nothings into Character A’s ear.
Character B checking in on Character A to make sure they’re comfortable and okay with the way things are going; to make sure they’re not being too much. “You’re not,” Character A would reassure, repositioning themselves to get closer to Character B.
Just cuddles and snuggles in general.
Neck kisses.
Kisses littered all over the face. (!!! It's one thing to read about it and one thing to experience it wlejbfewljn)
Character B tucking Character A’s head under their chin while they’re cuddling.
Character B nuzzling their neck and breathing in Character A’s scent/fragrance, and commenting on how nice they smell.
Character B making sure Character A gets home safe by driving them home.
Character A telling Character B to message them when they get back home safe, and once Character B gets home, they follow through by sending a message to let Character A know they’ve gotten back home safe.
Taking naps together, from day till night, waking up every now and then to get more snuggles in.
That soft exhalation of adoring laughter leaving Character B’s mouth after kissing Character A (this shit had me folding so fucking hard it’s not even funny. I Am Weak).
That soft exhalation of laughter once again just because Character B is so content with having Character A in their presence, and Character A just basking in how cute that sound is and how happy it makes them.
Character B entangling their legs with Character A’s, pressing their bodies flush against each other’s, leaving little to no space between them. (It’s almost like they can’t get enough of Character A.)
Kissing so many times, to the point where they lose track of how many times they’ve kissed already.
Holding hands and lacing their fingers together while they’re cuddling.
Comparing hand sizes and giggling about it together.
Character B stroking Character A’s hair while they’re asleep. (Or uh, pretends to be asleep DJSKKSKDSK but it’s so FUCKING CUTE WHEN HE DID THAT IM GONNA SCREAM, me thinking moments like these only happen in Korean dramas or some shit anfkakfksk-)
The sweet little banters in between; Character B being all cheesy and Character A playfully deflecting their comments only for Character B to playfully push back with an “Is something wrong with that?” or “But I’m not lying.”
Falling asleep in each other’s arms, both not wanting to leave the bed for the entire day and wanting to stay comfortably snuggled up against each other instead.
Character B placing their hands on Character A’s shoulders, and Character A, with a grin on their face, gently grabs Character B’s hands and wraps their arms around their neck while leaning back into them. Character B reciprocates by hugging them closer to them.
The soft noises of content Character A makes when they snuggle closer to Character B, or when they want Character B to hold them closer to them, with Character B happily obliging.
Character B rubbing their cheek against Character A’s.
Character B trying to not wake Character A up because they look so comfortable when sleeping. (His words, not mine.)
Soft, repeated pecks on the lips, causing Character A to laugh/smile against Character B’s lips.
#long post#again these are things i’ve experienced w/ cat guy that day#personal once again#me as character A and him as character B#not me exposing myself like this on a public platform wlkjfnefn#but then again i've got no shame left in me after all the rambles and vents i've been doing sOOO...#writing prompts#otp prompts#prompts#writing scenarios#cat guy chronicles
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DPXDC prompt: Dead on main. No trick only treat.
~~Сhildhood friends and deals~~
The Justice League has to summon a ghost from another dimension to address the threat. They don’t know what price the Ghost King will take but there’s little time to bargain. Another spirit threatening them has already seized all the computers on their base.
John doesn’t know what else to offer. A summoned ghost starts to look bored. Gold, jewelry? A favor from a member of the League? Like the Ruler of All Dead needs it. No one dares to make another offer, and the King is in no hurry to set out his demands. Maybe try to pull off a soul sale scam?
Suddenly, Red Hood breaks into the hall, walks up to Phantom and shakes his shoulder vigorously.
Red Hood: You, get Technus out of here right now. I need access to the files and fast.
Phantom: That’s rude, dude. Where did you grow up? in the cave? No "hello, no how are you, Danny", really?
Red Hood: I’ll pay the usual price.
Phantom: Deal.
What is the price?
John sees Batman and gets in his way. The usual price, his guy said. Means Jay was already out of the deal alive and well. This hyperprotective bat would only piss off the ruler if he interfered.
The King quickly deals with his subordinate using a thermos and remains to watch working Hood.
Red Hood: What do you want? I’m busy.
Danny: You and I have a contract~
Red Hood: All right, all right.
Jay throws M&Ms right in the face of the ghost. But king doesn’t look angry. He opens the package and starts sorting the candies by color. Phantom quickly eats up all the green ones and passes the red ones to Hood. Jason takes them without any questions.
Strange. John has never seen a summoned creature share its reward with a human. And the son of a bat looks too comfortable with it. Wait, since when do super-powered beings think that candy is a decent wage?John makes one of the most likely deductions using his experience.
Constantine: Batsy, how long has your son been sleeping with the King of Ghosts?
Batman: He…what?!
~~~~~~~
Dick *knocking at the door*: Little Wing, you hate ectoplasm and everything what is neon green, so why? He’s dangerous!
Jason who turned on the music to not listen to his crazy family: ~He’s poison but tasty~
Dick: NoOOoo
~~~~~~
Jason: And now everyone thinks that I sold my virginity to you for a bargain or something, because interdimensional creatures like you aren’t supposed to help for nothing. Like you’re playing favorites. I’m gonna fucking kill John.
Danny: Well, I wouldn’t say no to that.
Jason: What?
Danny: I mean, to k-kill John, yeah. How dare he..
Jason: Omg, you’re still so terrible liar, Fenton.
Danny: Sorry :(
Jason: No. Say it again.
~~~~Twelve years ago~~~~
Maddie wasn’t thrilled to learn that Danny was trying to make friends with Todd’s son. Their neighbor was terrible. And his son was definitely a street rat and probably a juvenile delinquent.
Maddie: Danny, honey, there’s got to be a reason this boy is talking to you. Even kids from the crime alley are always looking for a bargain they can make or a fool they can fool.
Danny: But Jason is so cool! He knows so much about books and alleys and..
Maddie: But you don’t want to be a fool, do you?
Danny: Okay, Mom, I get it.
So, if Danny wants a cool friend, he’s got to offer a bargain.
He didn’t have a lot of pocket money for every month but Jason needed it more anyway. And his lunch that Jack was picking for him was big enough for two and only bitten on Tuesdays. Nice.
Jason: Do I understand correctly? You will pay me and give me food, and I, what? Protect you from bullies?
Danny: No! I’m not weak, I don’t need to be protected. Just..maybe we could sit together at lunch and walk each other home sometimes?
Jason: Nay
Danny: But why? You want something else?
Jason: Money’s fine but your homemade food is…strange.
Danny: I can bring sweets if you want.
Jason: Deal. 3 pop tarts for a joint lunch, a party size bag of M&Ms if you waste my time out of school.
~~~~
Sometimes they share sweets when they hang out but more often Jayson takes them home to save in case his parents have money problems. Sweets have a long shelf life stored and he may not be afraid to poison himself.
Over time, candy becomes their currency and a secret language for all occasions.
Need help without unnecessary questions? M&Ms. Problems with learning? Skittles. The question is about family? Snickers. There will be a serious conversation? Pop Tarts.
Jason: One snickers and a pack of gum.
Danny: Yeah, Jason? What do you want?
Jason: My mom wants to meet my friend. Come to lunch on Sunday.
Danny: Okay, you managed to pay for my expensive services.
Jason:…and you just lost the gum from the deal.
~~~~~~
Jason threw a package at Danny: Three pop tarts. We need to talk.
Danny: All right?
Jason: Why are you avoiding me all week?!
Danny: Well, it’s just..you’re Wayne now.
Jason. Still Todd. And what about that?
Danny: You can hang out with the cooler guys now, I didn’t want to embarrass you.
Jason: Bullshit! I’m still the street rat, and you’re trying to avoid our contract.
me. And I don’t even need money from you anymore. What the hell? I thought you are my friend.
Danny: And I am!
~~~~~~
Robin: What’s a schoolboy doing in an alley at night?
Danny: Um, I…nothing? Don’t tell my parents, Mr. Robin sir.
Robin: It will cost you so many Chunky Bars, you have no idea.
Danny:...Jason?
Jason: N-no.
Danny: Damn yes. What are you doing in green shorts on the street at night?!
Jason: Cosplay.
Danny: Oh yeah? Then I’m just your hallucination. Don’t hesitate to ghost me. I’m going home, Disgrace In Pixie Boots, bye.
Jason: fu%&c$#u
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What if I am too much?
Summary: When Sam's girlfriend calls you clingy, you decide to give Bucky some space. What you don’t know is that he doesn’t want any space. None at all.
Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x female reader
Warnings: 18+, angst, teasing, language, pet names, spanking, daddy kink, metal arm kink, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 2.2K
Bucky Barnes masterlist
A/N: I want to thank @marvelouslizzie for her help!
Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!
“Oh, you’re alone?”
You turn your head in the direction of the voice and smile politely. You don’t recognize this woman, but she looks at you like she does.
“Uh, yes. Hello!”
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
You instantly blush, ashamed, and search for Bucky’s face in the crowd. Nowhere to be found. Damn it!
“No, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she says before coming next to you. “I’m Misty.” Brunette, tall and beautiful.
“Where did we meet?”
“Sam’s birthday, but I’m not surprised you don’t remember me. You were too busy clinging to Bucky’s side all night.” She sounds serious, and you freeze, having no idea where this came from. She simply laughs, grabbing your arm with some kind of bionic cold hand for a second before letting it go.
It’s not like Bucky’s. It’s more... robotic.
“Clinging?” You ask confused.
“Yeah, you know, always sitting with him, holding his arm, following him around.”
You puff, already annoyed by this random woman. “Following him around? I’m not a dog!”
“Didn’t say you are a dog, honey. Just pointing out the obvious.”
You try to hold your tongue, pushing aside the impulse to start a fight. This is a night about Bucky. Not you or your discomfort. And she is his ex-co-worker-friend’s girlfriend. Your anger can wait.
“Alright, but how does my clinging affect you, though?”
“Oh, don’t take it so personally! I just meant to be friendly. It’s a girl’s advice. Live a little, being insecure is not gonna save your relationship.”
A piece of advice no one asked for. A take you never even considered. You’re not insecure and you’re definitely not keeping Bucky to your side all the time. You don’t… He is free to do whatever the hell he wants.
“Thank you.”
She has the audacity to laugh. “Don’t be so defensive, honey! Gonna get a cocktail, want some?”
You shake your head, feeling a hole in your stomach after she leaves you alone, and you basically run to the bathroom, trying to calm down. What if she is right, though? What if Sam heard or saw something? Maybe Bucky is extra grumpy or unhappy. Maybe he even complained…
You never thought sitting with Bucky is a sign of clinginess. You thought it’d help... he is not the most comfortable person at events. He gets stared at a lot, he hates small talk, and you really like being close to him. Gosh, you are clingy!
The rest of the night passes like a blur. When you come back, Bucky’s waiting for you, and despite your instinct to wrap your arm around his back and let him hold you, you keep a little distance, giving Sam and his nosy girlfriend a fake smile, while Bucky keeps staring at you strangely.
You even manage to avoid touching him all week somehow, except for a few kisses now and then. Your period came, and as he tried to hold you, you had to fight tears while telling him not to. You’re sick and tired and you miss him, but you want to give him some space. You’ve been suffocating him for so long... You make sure to cry only when he’s out because he might hear you even in the shower. He has super hearing after all.
You thought it would become easier every day, but quite the opposite. Every time you’re close to giving up, you remember Sam’s comment that he made a week after you met him about how Bucky always likes his space and what Misty told you, so you fight against your wish.
Until Sunday afternoon.
You’re in bed, scrolling down on Instagram as Bucky comes out of the shower. You try not to stare at him, but how can you not? He looks absolutely incredible.
What you don’t expect is him trying to get on top of you to tickle you with a huge smile on his face. He’s so adorable.
“B-Bucky, stop!” You laugh as his hands get under your T-shirt. He loves making you laugh no matter how he does it. “N-no.”
“Oh, I will,” he says playfully.
But what he failed to tell you is that stopping means sneaking his head under your T-shirt, which starts to rip a little because of the stretch, and resting it on your boobs.
“Bucky!”
He puffs, annoyed. “Why the fuck are you wearing a bra in the house, bubba?”
“Cause it’s a bra?” You ask back sarcastically, but you know this is weird. You always complain about needing to wear it outside. But inside? It’s even worse.
“Unacceptable.” He quickly rips your bra in half, not bothering to unhook it, and you feel his beard on your breast all of a sudden, making you shiver. Fuck, you really miss this.
“B-Bucky, come on, your hair is a little wet!”
“Bubba, please...”
“Bucky! Why did you do that?” He immediately takes his head out of your T-shirt, and you almost cry. He looks do lost and scared.
“Baby, do you not want me anymore?”
“What the fuck?” You groan. This is the last thing you wanted him to think. All you tried to do was to make him happy and feel less pressured.
“You don’t let me touch you. You don’t want to cuddle with me. You don’t wake me up with kisses. You don’t get on top of me You don’t hug me! What did I do?”
Your heart aches for both of you. “Wasn’t that better?”
“Better for who?” He cries. “This was the worst week of my life since Hydra.”
“Unfortunately, that cannot be true, Bucky.” You sigh, getting closer to him. “I thought you like space...”
“I do, but not with my fucking baby!”
You melt at his words, truth be told. He said it so passionately, but you’re so confused.
“I thought I was being too clingy, touching you too much, you know?”
“What? Where did this come from?”
You close your eyes. How are you supposed to answer this without sounding like a petty bitch?
“Does it matter?”
“Of course it does!” You feel his hands grabbing your face so you can look at him. “It means I did something wrong.”
You frown, upset that he thinks that. He’s been nothing but kind, understanding, and loving to you, and you hate how he feels like he failed you or something.
“Sam’s girlfriend told me I am clingy... always with you, never leaving you alone to breathe basically. And it reminded me of Sam saying how much you love your space, and I just...” You try not to cry, you really do, but you cannot hold back the tears this time, which Bucky immediately reaches to wipe with his flesh fingers.
“Jesus, baby! I don’t give a goddamn shit about what they say, you aren’t allowed to listen to anyone! Just let me touch you.”
You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, and Bucky lifts you a bit so you can sit on his lap. You can hear his heartbeat, and you find that so peaceful.
“I thought you’re gonna break up with me, honey.” He whispers in your ear. “I was terrified when you didn’t let me cuddle with you.”
“I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” You don’t know what else to say. You hurt both of you for days just because you let some woman get inside your head, but you had good intentions. “I just didn’t want to be a burden.”
“I should be the one saying that, not you, bubba.” He leaves a kiss on your shoulder. “God, I missed you so much, it feels surreal to touch you.”
“I love you, I’m sorry.”
“Promise to never do this shit ever again!”
“I’ll try,” you murmur. “I didn’t realize you want me to touch you so much.”
Bucky lifts your head. “You know I have to punish you for that, right?”
“Punish me?” You ask surprised.
“Yeah, for believing some stranger over your man. For pulling away and giving me a heart attack. And for depriving yourself of my cuddling skills.”
You giggle. “What if I let you suck my nipples for a whole week anytime you wanted?”
“I already do that!” Bucky lifts your T-shirt as he speaks, and you gasp.
“You do not!”
“Yes, I do. Remember when I came home from the last mission and I made you come by-” He lowers his head and licks your right breast, avoiding your nipple.
“Fuck you, tease!”
“I am the tease?!” He snorts, continuing to lick.
“You’re always the tease. Now kiss me and gimmie your cock.”
“I won’t give you anything until I punish you.”
“Jamie!” You scream when he turns you around, ripping off your shorts in half, along with your underwear before placing you on his thighs. “What the fuck?”
“What the fuck to you for keeping yourself away from me.” You feel him caressing your ass for a few seconds before slapping your right cheek with his flesh hand. You squirm, gripping into his hip.
“F-fuck!”
“Count.”
You groan. “Jamie...” He spanks you again but harder, and this time you moan. “T-two.”
“Nope, we start over.”
“O-one.”
“Good girl!”
The third and fourth aren’t as hard as you want and you find yourself wiggling your ass in the air.
“Harder.”
“Harder?” He snorts, amused, and before he can bring his flesh hand in the air, you grab his metal arm.
“Please, daddy, use this one!”
Daddy? It didn’t take too long for you to get back in the mood.
“Can’t use it, baby, I’m sorry.”
“No!” You cry. “I need it, pleaseee. I’ll ride your face as many times as you w-want.”
Bucky still doesn’t agree. “Baby, it would hurt.”
“Let it hurt!”
You want it to hurt because this pain is not unbearable, quite the opposite. It pushes you over the edge faster.
He sighs and listens to you, bringing his metal hand to your ass, but you barely even feel it when he slaps. You groan, upset.
“I said slap! Do you want me to hover?”
“I can fucking hurt you.”
“I told you to hurt me!” You beg. “Please, honey! Please, please, please.”
He does it again, not hard enough for you, but you count anyway. Again and again.
“Jesus, you’re making my thighs so wet. You’re such a little whore for me.”
“I’m your whore. Always, daddy, please!”
Bucky’s moan comes somehow from the back of his throat, and the last spanks are perfect. He gently caresses your ass, cooling it off with his metal hand, and you smile. “You’re so dirty sometimes, but also such a good girl taking your punishment perfectly.”
“I am sorry,” you whisper.
“For what exactly?”
You pout, grabbing his face. “For all of it. But you’re you, Bucky. You’re the greatest guy in the world, I just didn’t want to be annoying.”
“You were annoying when you didn’t let me even hug you.”
You know that, but sometimes you can’t help but do dumb things, thinking about him. “I wanted you to be happy.”
“Well, I wasn’t happy, obviously. And neither were you, bubba. Promise me you’ll talk to me first next time.”
“I was just stupid…”
“No.” You feel his thumb all over your lips. “You were worried. I love you and I really need your touch, okay?”
“I noticed,” you laugh.
“Good, now feed me my boobs, and then I wanna see you riding my face as you negotiated.”
You fake sigh and grab your boob. “Open up.”
*
You’re not sure how to react when Bucky drags you straight to Sam and his girlfriend as soon as you get inside the museum.
“Hey, Buck-”
“Who do you think you are?”
Misty gasps while Sam and you freeze.
“Wow, wow, wow, man. Hold on a sec, what is going on?”
“What is going on, Samuel?” Bucky asks rhetorically through his teeth. “Ask your little girlfriend where she got her audacity from to tell my girl she is clingy. That she basically spends too much time with me. Who the fuck gave her the permission to even speak to her? So she either apologizes and keeps her mouth shut, or we’ll have a big problem.” Bucky turns his head to look at Misty. “From one metal arm to another. Wanna try me?”
“You did what? What the hell?”
Misty frowns, staring at you. “You went to complain to him for giving you a friendly, harmless advice?”
Bucky instantly grabs her metal arm wrist before you can answer.
“You got three seconds to beg for her forgiveness before I snap your hand in half. And I am not bluffing.”
Sam doesn’t even try to get between them, simply watching, and Misty immediately gets teary.
“I’m... sorry.”
Bucky shakes his head, squeezing her wrist. Holy shit! You haven’t seen him like this in ages. “Didn’t hear you.”
“I am sorry. I should have minded my own business!”
“Yes, you should’ve,” you say without regret. “But I forgive you.”
Bucky lets go with a grunt before nodding to Sam and bringing his hand to your hips, leading you toward the exit.
As soon as you are outside, you don’t even care if someone can hear you as you speak. “Fuck, I wanna suck your cock so badly!”
Bucky laughs. “I see. In the car… is that okay for you?”
You get on your tiptoes to kiss him. “Perfect.”
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes x female reader#sebastian stan#marvel fanfiction#marvel fanfic#my stories#my fanfics
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imgonnagetyouback
Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!singer!reader
Warnings: Cursing
Authors note: I guess I lied about the Lando thing… this songs just so Lando I can’t explain it and I’m actually obsessed with this song rn. You probably have to at least know the premise of the song to understand the second half of this.
INSTAGRAM
yourusername
📍New York, New York
liked by maxfewtrell taylorswift and 13,998,887 others
yourusername hello, New York!
tagged: taylorswift
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user1 my fav
user2 love her
user3 so pretty 🤩
taylorswift 🩵
yourusername 🤭💋
user4 welcome to New York, so real
user5 I miss Lando
user6 hi queen!!!
user7 new music when
user8 “I love NY not you” lmao Lando get up
user9 now why in the world did max like this
user10 and now Lando will post an Instagram story of him partying with some random girl to prove he’s having more fun than y/n is, we know how this goes
user11 you can not tell me they don’t miss each other
sabrinacarpenter pretty 🤩 🤩 🤩
yourusername no u 💋
user12 I just need a video of her English ass trying to navigate new York please and thx
maxfewtrell hey bestie!
yourusername oh my god get out of here
user13 wtf is max doing 😭😭
gracieabrams I ❤️ u
yourusername 🥰
oscarpiastri hi
yourusername hi?
———————————————
landonorris added to their story
user14
Now wtf
user15
user10 was right
user16
Alright ig
oscarpiastri
oh okay
MESSAGES
INSTAGRAM
yourusername added to their story
oscarpiastri
Still can't believe you convinced me to do that
yourusername
You'll be fine, ill get you concert tickets
can't even tell its you either
oscarpiastri
fine
they better be vip
yourusername
Dw they will be
—————-
maxfewtrell
???
yourusername
Dw its just Oscar
maxfewtrell
Jesus i cant believe you
yourusername
He started it. This is the first time I've included a guy in my posts, landos been doing it for months
maxfewtrell
you're gonna be the death of me
yourusername
💋💋💋💋
maxfewtrell
take care of yourself though y/n
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I am
Thx tho max 🫶
maxfewtrell
Yeah yeah 🙄
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user17 oh yay they're gonna sneak diss in their Insta captions again
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user19 she's so pretty omg
maxfewtrell oh wonderful we’re doing this now
yourusername leave
user20 lando its your turn
user21 IM IN LOVE WITH HER
charles_leclerc I'm amused
yourusername congrats
user22 they're so messy I love them
oscarpiastri great he's about to drag me into doing something stupid because of this
yourusername that is not my problem
user23 I sense new music coming along
user24 I do genuinely think he still wants her lowk
user25 they want eachother, don't lie. Its defo mutual
user26 😍😍😍
taylorswift 🤩
yourusername 🥰
jackantonoff 🤪
liker by yourusername
user27 why is jack here???? New music???
————————————————
landonorris
liked by maxfewtrell martingarrix and 12,008,998 others
landonorris I have what I want
load comments…
user28 oh… yay
user29 🤩🤩🤩
user30 say what you want about their shitty personalities but they sure do know how to make an aesthetic post
user31 the shade is immense
maxfewtrell im nauseous
landonorris 👍
user32 they’re so into each other it’s actually insane
user33 OH MY GOD WE GET IT YOU MISS EACHOTHER
user34 🤩🤩🤩
user35 he’s so fine
user35 LANDO-
user36 now what’s y/n gonna do
user37 how long until they both apologize and get back together… these are not the posts of people who have healthily moved on from their previous relationship
user38 fine as hell lowk
oscarpiastri this is 100% the most healthy way to handle this
landonorris I didn’t ask
user39 all of their friends are so annoyed and it’s so funny
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yourusername added to their story
maxfewtrell
Is this a song where you admit you’re still in love with Lando so you both can finally get over your emotional immaturity???
yourusername
kinda
maxfewtrell
Oh fr?
I thought you’d just be mean to him for the whole song
yourusername
Uhhh-
——————————————
yourusername
liked by sabrinacarpenter taylorswift and 21,000,111 others
yourusername imgonnagetyouback out now 🩶
Load comments…
user40 IM GONNA GET YOU BACK
user41 oh my god it’s so good
user42 LANDO GET UP
user43 THE CAPTION FROM PARIS WAS A SONG LYRICCCCC
user44 oh so she’s still in love with him
user45 “you were never not mine” 💀
user46 I CAN FEEL IT COMING HUMMIN IN THE WAY YOU MOVE
user47 PUSH THE RESET BUTTON WERE BECOMING SOMETHING NEW
user48 SAY YOU GOT SOMEBODY ILL SAY IVE GOT SOMEONE TOO
user49 EVEN IF ITS HANDCUFFED IM LEAVING HERE WITH YOU
user50 “I’m an Aston Martin” okay lance strollll
oscarpiastri “I’ve got someone too” no you do not 💀
yourusername oh my god shut up
user51 she’s still in love with him dhmu
maxfewtrell when I asked if this was going to be emotionally healthy and not a diss I can now see why you were conflicted…. Bit of both tbh
yourusername 🫶
maxfewtrell 👎
user52 told my friends I hate you but I love you just the same 😭
user53 SO GOOD
user54 WHETHER IM GONNA BE YOUR WIFE????
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landonorris added to their story
maxfewtrell
…
what does this achieve
landonorris
What do you want
maxfewtrell
Mate come on
you’re still obviously in love with her
and the song litteraly shows she’s still in love with you
all you’ve done is post a thirst trap of yourself with song lyrics on top
landonorris
It’s not a thirst trap
maxfewtrell
I hate both of you
text her mate
you’re happier together
And I’m tired of both of you annoying the shit out of me
landonorris
Fine
Maybe I will
maxfewtrell
Thank god
It’d be the first time you listened to me
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MESSAGES
INSTAGRAM
yourusername added to their story
maxfewtrell
That better be Lando or so help me god
yourusername
Calm your tits
It is
maxfewtrell
YEAHHHH
Finally
I can stop playing matchmaker
yourusername
😒😒😒😒
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oscarpiastri
Oh so this means you’ll both stop dragging me into your dumb shit
yourusername
🖕🖕🖕🖕
oscarpiastri
🫶
———————————————
TWITTER
INSTAGRAM
landonorris
liked by yourusername maxfewtrell and 13,001,881 others
landonorris told my friends I hate you but I love you just the same
load comments…
user55 YEAHHHHHHH
user56 Y/N LIKED WE’RE SO BACK
user57 my favs
user58 my parents are back together 😭
user59 unlike your real ones
user58 woah???
user59 🤷♀️ it’s the truth
user60 I missed them so much 😭😭😭
user61 admitted you love your ex-gf on main, this is self-improvement
yourusername pick your poison, babe
landonorris I’m poison either way
user62 I appreciate the repeating lyrics at each other because it is cute but those are not the kindest lyrics to be repeating 😭
user63 who knew that shit-talking your ex in a song could get him to re-admit his love for you
maxfewtrell took you long enough
landonorris legitimately who asked you
maxfewtrell I’m the reason this even happened in the first place. Watch your tone.
landonorris thanks i guess
maxfewtrell “I guess” @/yourusername this is how happy he is to have you back
yourusername landoooo
landonorris sorry. Thank you so much max, I’m so grateful you brought the loml back to me.
maxfewtrell you’re welcome ☺️
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yourusername
liked by landonorris maxfewtrell and 20,887,991 others
yourusername got you back
load comments…
user64 she got him back 🥹
user65 YEAHHHHH LFG
user66 awwwww
user67 I love them so much
user68 sleeping on the highway tonight 🫶
oscarpiastri 🥳🥳🥳
liked by yourusername
user69 these pictures are so cute oh my god 😭
user70 IM GONNA GET YOU BACK
landonorris you decided wether you’re gonna be my wife or smash up my bike yet?
yourusername still not sure… maybe both 🤔
user71 BOTH?????
user72 YEAH YEAH THATS FUNNY AND ALL BUT SHE JUST SAID SHE’D MARRY HIM
maxfewtrell congratulations nerds
yourusername thanks mate
user73 I’m in love with both of them
user74 they’re both so much happier together I really hope they stick this time
user75 and when she releases a love album then what
landonorris ily 🫶
yourusername ily2 🫶
user76 Jesus Christ they’re such teenagers 😭 USE FULL WORDS 😭😭😭
user77 no I get them. I wouldn’t post full love confessions in an Instagram comment section either lmao
user78 they got each other back 🫶
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Taglist: @casperlikej @evie-119
#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#scheduled#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 smau
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You're Mine
Azriel x reader
~
You threw back another drink at Rita’s trying to drown the way you were feeling. You sighed as you leaned against the bar. You watched as Azriel leaned into Elain to make sure she was okay. You felt your heart crack a bit. You made sure your walls were up mentally and physically. You didn’t want anyone else to know how you felt about the shadowsinger. Mor was the only one that knew and you wanted to keep it that way. You closed your eyes centering yourself. When you opened them again, you locked eyes with those hazel ones you have loved for the last two hundred years. You gave him a smirk as you turned for your next drink. You felt a presence beside you.
“How are you holding up?” Mor leaned against the bar with you.
“I’m fine, Mor. Nothing a little of this can’t take care of.” You swirled the amber liquid around in the glass. Mor rolled her eyes at you.
“Maybe, you should tell him?” You felt yourself freeze. She was the only one that knew the mating bond snapped, for you anyway. She was there when it happened. Your jaw tensed.
“I’m not telling him.”
“Why?”
“Look at him over there with her. He’s infatuated, he looks like he’s in love and in the last three hundred years I’ve been with you all he’s never looked at anyone else like that before. Anyone.” Mor pursed her lips. She was about to say something when she saw it about the time you felt it. A shadow wrapping around your ankle. You smiled a bit. You let the shadow slither up to your shoulder.
“Hello there. I’m fine, you can tell him.” You gently caressed the little shadow before it scurried back down your side and over to the shadowsinger. You looked over to find shock on his face. Did he not know one of them came over to you? You quirked your eyebrows but quickly turned back to your conversation with Mor. “Anyway, I’m gonna go. I leave in the morning.”
“Leave? Where are you going?” You downed the rest of your drink before you answered her.
“The continent. Rhys wants an eye on the queens since we haven’t heard from them since before the war with Hybern.” Mor’s eyes widened.
“Are you going alone?” You nodded. She let out a scoff. “I can’t be here right now, Mor. Not while all of this is going on. I need to go somewhere, do something. I won’t be gone long, just a day.” She sighed. She knew.
“Doesn’t mean I like it. Just be safe, don’t die.” You laughed at her. She gave you a smile back.
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” You gave her a small hug and made your way out of Rita’s. You were halfway down the street when you heard, and felt, a gust of wind.
“You’re leaving?” Shock covered your features as the shadowsinger appeared behind you.
“Jeez, Az, a little warning please.” He waited for you to answer his question. “Yes, I’m going home.” He gave you a look. You sighed before answering him. “I leave in the morning. I’ll only be gone a day, two at the most.”
“Where?”
“The continent.”
“It’s dangerous.” You tilted your head at him.
“I’ll be fine, Az. You’re the one who trained me. I’ll be fine.” Azriel didn’t seem so sure. You giggled as one of his shadows wrapped up your arm. You smiled down at it. “Tell him I’m going to be fine.” The little shadow seemed to disagree as well. You let it wrap around the hand you held up to it. You let it wrap around your hand and slide around for a while until it seems to be content.
Azriel was looking on in awe. He didn’t even ask his shadows to do that. They did it of their own accord. He had never seen that happen until tonight when you were at the bar with Mor. The way you giggled as it wrapped around your hand made his heart squeeze in a good way. Once his shadow seemed pleased it slithered back down your arm, leg, then scurried across the small space between the two of you.
“Are you sure you don’t need anyone to go with you?” He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of you going that far alone made his entire body ache. You reached out, giving his arm a squeeze.
“Az, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” That signaled the end of the conversation. Azriel sent one of his shadows with you to make sure you made it home. You let out a loud laugh, “Thank you, Az. Goodnight.” The shadowsinger didn’t reply. He just waited until you made the short walk back to your apartment.
~
You were not fine. Someone had tipped the queens off about your arrival. You didn’t know who it was, but you sure as hell were going to find out. You were taking a quick breather in a cave that seemed to be safe. That’s when you felt it. A little shadow crawling from behind your wing. You let out a sigh of relief.
“Hey there. He just couldn’t stand that I was going alone could he.” The shadow seemed to do a little dance confirming you were right. “I need you to tell him I was ambushed. I don’t know who did it and it could be more than a day until I’m back. He cannot come and cannot send anyone. I’ll make it back.” The little shadow slithered down to your hand and wrapped itself around it. You gave it a smile. “I will make it back.” It seemed to hear the conviction in your voice. It seemed to hug your hand before it scurried away.
You took a deep breath steeling yourself for what you were to do next.
~
Azriel’s shadow came back to him. He was surprised considering he hadn’t sent any out today. Once back it told him what happened. He swore the entire world stopped at that moment. You were ambushed and you told him to stay away. The worst part is, he knew you were right.
“Dammit.” He made his way to Rhys’s office at the House of Wind to relay what he found out. He did send a few shadows out to see if he could find who ratted you out. Azriel opened the door to find Rhys and Cassian already there. “We have a problem.”
“What is it?” Azriel explained everything that happened to you and how you were holed up in a cave, safe, for now.
“Shit.” Cassian was up pacing before he even finished and Rhys had his head in his hands.
“What was this for anyway?”
“I needed someone to go see if there was any movement from the queens. I was going to ask you, but she volunteered.” Azriel didn’t know how to feel about that.
“Why would she do that?” Rhys and Cassian leveled him with a stare.
“For a spymaster, you sure are dense.” Rhys threw a hard stare in Cassian’s direction.
“For the love of the Mother, Rhys, I can’t not tell him at this point.”
“Tell me what?” Cassian and Rhys shared a conversation he wasn’t privy to. Rhys finally relented.
“She’s your mate, Az.” Az felt his heart drop.
“What?” Rhys and Cassian sighed. You didn’t know Rhys and Cassian knew the bond snapped into place for you. They had sensed something was different. It didn’t take long for them to put the pieces together, although you hid it very well. They let the information sink in for the spymaster.
“She volunteered because of the way you’ve been stuck to Elain’s side.” All three turned to see Mor standing in the doorway. She wasn’t sure if they had put the pieces together, but she knew Rhys, it wouldn’t take him long. Azriel felt his chest tighten. Yes, he had been by Elain’s side the last few months, but she didn’t see him that way, she just needed a friend.
“That’s not, there’s nothing between Elain and me.”
“It didn’t seem that way, especially to her. I tried to get her to tell you, but she thought you wanted Elain. So, she took this mission to get away, even if it was just for a day.” Azriel had no idea. Didn’t even get a hint that the two of you were mates. It made sense though, the way he was around you. He seemed more open with you, it was easier to joke with you. The way his shadows were drawn to you. It made so much sense. The other three stood there watching as all the pieces fell in place for the spymaster. Azriel opened his mouth to say something when one of his shadows wrapped around his ear.
She’s hurt.
Azriel stood up ready to go find you when they heard a commotion in the hallway. The four of them ran out to see what was going on. They followed Naula down the corridor, she led them to the balcony outside the dining area. There you were a crumpled heap on the ground.
~
You heard your name. You looked up to see Azriel, Mor, Rhys, and Cass running toward you. Azriel reached you first. He hooked one arm around your back and the other under your knees lifting you off the ground.
“What a welcome committee.” You rasped. You were breathing hard, too hard. Az watched the pain flash across your face. Your hand gripped Az’s shoulder a little harder. One of his shadows curled around your hand. You managed to smile a little. “Hello again.”
“Where are you hurt? What happened?” You closed your eyes, taking a breath before you replied.
“My wings.” The four of them looked to see the ends of your wings torn and many different spots. You heard Rhys yell for someone to get a healer. “I found out who did it. They won’t be a problem anymore.” Azriel couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face.
“That’s my girl.” He kissed the top of your head. Azriel carried you to a room, there was a couch. That’s all you could manage to comprehend through the pain. Azriel laid you down on the couch and immediately kneeled down beside you. He grabbed your hand. He didn’t let go. Not when Madja arrived. Not when you nearly passed out from the pain. He was there. Never letting go. Never leaving your side.
~
Madja said to rest for a few days. It was currently day four of healing and you had managed to talk Madja into letting you go home. You were rummaging through your kitchen when you felt it. You giggled as the shadow wrapped itself around your ankle and made its way up your side and perched on your shoulder.
“You can come in, Az. It’s unlocked.” A second later you heard your apartment door open. You turned to see him bringing a couple of bags in. “What’s all this?”
“A few groceries. I thought you might be getting low.”
“Thanks, Az.” You started helping him unload the bags. You were putting them away, his shadow still perched on your shoulder.
“They don’t do that with anyone else.” You turned, giving him a questioning look. “My shadows. They don’t do that with anyone.”
“You haven’t sent them?” Azriel shook his head. “Even the one that was with me on my mission?”
“I didn’t send it. I didn’t even know it was gone until it came back to me.” The shock was evident on your face. You had assumed he sent it. You looked at the little shadow still perched on your shoulder. “They only do that with you.”
You felt your heart stutter at the look he gave you. That’s when he felt it. The bond snapped into place. It had snapped for you long ago, but you could finally feel him. Everything.
“Az,” you didn’t know what else to say as he made his way to stand in front of you.
“You’re mine.” You felt the bond glow within you, but you had to ask.
“What about Elain?”
“What about her?” He didn’t mean it in a mean way, but he wanted you.
“You two just seemed so close.” You didn’t know how else to say it.
“I don’t want her. I’ve loved you for so long. I just didn’t think I was enough for you. I’m a-” you placed your finger on his lips. You knew what he was about to say. He was about to repeat what every Illyrian warrior has called him for years. You weren’t having any of it.
“Don’t you dare. You are everything, Az. Everything.” You cupped his face and watched as his shadow crawled across your arm to join the others. You stared into those hazel eyes, losing yourself. You took a deep breath knowing what you were about to do would make this final.
“Would you like something to eat?” Azriel’s eyes widened. He knew you were mates, but he was still unsure if you would accept the bond.
“Really?”
“Really.” Finally he slotted his lips against yours. You felt everything in the kiss. You were his and he was yours.
#azriel x reader#azriel#acotar#acomaf#shadowsinger x reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel spymaster#cassian x reader#cassian acotar#azriel x you#rhys x reader#mor x reader
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𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞
character; 𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, 𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧
cw; picking up the phone while they’re fucking you (f!reader)
tags; slight voyerism/missionary position/ teasing (gojo), teasing/ doggy style/ degradation (geto), vouyerism/ degradation/ praise/ chokehold/ back shots (toji),sex tape/ voyerism/degradation/ objectification / missionary (sukuna), [yuuji makes an appearance at the end] (f!reader)
a/n; I haven’t posted in a while, if you requested it is in the making I promise, by the way if the spelling/grammar is bad it’s cause i’m writing this at 1 am my brain ain’t function properly rn
𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
✰ would tease you, pick up the phone and tell the person that picked up that you’re busy while still fucking you.
“why don’t you answer it baby, it might be important?”
he smirks down at you as he watches you glare at him even though your moaning, letting out a weak “fuck you” at his childish antics.
“c’mon, all you have time do is see what they want it can be that hard”
his pace doesn’t let up and you watch in horror as he picks up the phone to answer with a devious smirk on his face. he knows you didn’t actually expect him to pick up the phone.
“this is gojo speaking, ah nanamin it’s you. sorry shes busy but I can help you”
your quick to slap your hand over you mouth and gojo feels the way you clench around him and he watches in amusement as you try to contain your noise though he’s sure the sound of his hips slapping against yours are making it through the speaker.
“yeah, I’ll be sure to pass on the message don’t worry”
once the call ends he throws the phone to the side and continues fucking you however the smirk never leaves his face. you’re sure to call nanami back and apologise for gojo’s behaviour.
𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮
✰ he would tease yout at first baiting you but he wouldn’t actually pick up.
“what would they think if they heard the pathetic sounds you’re making baby, you wanna find out?”
he watches as you shake your head and whine at his suggestion from below him but he feels the way your cunt tightens around him at the idea.
“you sure baby, then why did your pussy squeeze so tight when I mentioned it, clearly you want them to hear how much of a cock hungry slut you are don’t you”
it’s the first time something like this has happened so you’re not sure if he’s actually going to pick up or not, you’re oulse raising in anticipation.
“you think I don’t feel the way your sucking me in even tighter, someone would think that you actually enjoy the idea of someone hearing you, is that what you want?”
“no sug, please” you don’t know if your pleas will work as the way his hands grip onto your waist tighter say otherwise as well as the way he starts to reach for the phone ahead your pulse increasing. you believe he’s going to follow through with the suggestion until he picks yo the phone to decline the call and you sigh in relief.
“don’t worry princess, I’m the only one that gets to hear your slutty moans”
𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢
✰ would pick up straight away and make you speak to the person on the phone as he fucks you.
“tell them you’re busy, make it quick”
your not ready by the time he puts the phone up to your ear and you don’t even recognise the voice speaking to you not that you have half the brain right now as toji fucked the sense out of you but you have to comply with his wishes as you dont want to be punished even though you know hes only doing it to humiliate you.
“make sure you speak properly otherwise they won’t be able to understand you baby”
it’s hard for you to speak as he has you held up by your throat so your words come out choppy in between your moans and theres no doubt that the person on the phone can tell whats going on. “ye -fuck! hello s-sorry about that. shit, can I um -oh fuck, can I c-call you back later?”
“taking to long princess, hurry up”
“fuck! m’ trying, please! no not you -fuck sorry. m’ b-busy right now so I’m gonna call you back- fuck!” toji doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence sending one particularly harsh thrust just before the call ends throwing it back to it’s place.
“such a good girl doing as i asked, but now they know what a dirty slut you are, taking calls while you’re being fucked”
𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧
✰ puts the phone next to your pussy so that the person can hear the obscene sounds then next to your mouth to hear your moans.
“keep making ‘em pretty noises for me”
you don’t even notice when he picks up the phone but you soon realise that he is holding your phone down to where his balls slap against your ass making the wettest sound and you know that he’s recording a video as he usual does when the two of you fuck, he says he saved it for when he can’t fuck you l.
“hear that it’s the sound of quality pussy, she’s sucking me in so tightly. bet you wish you were me huh?”
you don’t even have half a mind to question what he’s doing right now as even though he’s occupied with the phone he’s still fucking you brutally shaking the bed with the force of his thrusts eliciting loud and long moans from you.
“my pretty little whore can take my dick so well, she even makes the prettiest noises for me wanna hear?”
you’re not sure how long he records the sounds your pussy makes but the next thing you know is that the phone is placed next to your ear for it to hear the profanities leave your mouth one after the other a proud smirk on his face as you do “ryo please- oh fuck, feels s-so fuckin good”
“my cunt takes cock so well, pretty sure it’s all she’s good for. just to be used as my fleshlight”
you soon later come to learn that it was yuuji the video was for yuuji after hearing your moans he may or may have not fisted his cock all night in jealousy wishing it were him fucking you instead.
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍
@tyunixia @riowmie
#✰𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒✰#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#geto x y/n#geto x you#geto x reader#getou suguru#getou x reader#geto suguru#toji fushiguro#jjk toji#toji zenin#toji x reader#toji smut#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#sukuna smut#jjk x y/n#jjk smut#jjk#jujutsu geto#toji x you#jujutsu toji#ryomen sukuna
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why it’s (not) okay to cheat on your boyfriend 🎀
prncessnote: another tiktok trend cause it’s all i can write for rn✊🏾
“hey guys, so today i’m gonna show you a cute makeup and hair idea while telling you reasons why it’s okay to cheat on your boyfriend.” you smiled at the camera, beginning your routine yet not saying anything but, your boyfriend, side eyed you real hard, “what?”
“hm?” you turned towards him, raising your brow in a “something wrong?” gesture, “what you say?”. instead of answering him, you shrugged your shoulders and looked back at your camera, continuing your makeup without a word, “so you’re just not gonna answer me?”
you began to apply your lip liner, not paying him any attention which always irritated him, but for the sake the video (and you finding it funny), you continued to ignore him, “so-so you wanna cheat on me? and then go give out ideas and shit?” you grabbed your comb and began sectioning your hair, “hello??,” he waved his hand in your face, “i’m waiting?”
“for?” he rolled his eyes, “you been saying, “it’s okay to cheat on your boyfriend,” and i wanna know why?” he mocked your voice yet it was much whinier, “but i didn’t say anything…?”
“bruh you just said it, i’m not stupid and you were giving out reasons,” he swore, walking closer to your small vanity set up, “and i didn’t do all that?”
“you were practically giving out reasons-”
“i didn’t!! i said “imma tell you reasons why it’s okay to cheat on your boyfriend-”
“exactly-”
“but i didn’t say anything after that?!” your boyfriend opened his mouth, only to shut it back knowing you were right, “mhm now look at you, looking dumb-OUCH!” you were cut off by your big stuffed pink squishmallow aimed directly at your head, “mhm, bet you won’t try and cheat on me now, huh?”
“boy oh boy, oh boy…”
#had this written for sukuna but…nevermind#eren x black fem!reader#choso x black reader#aot fanfiction#eren jaeger x reader#jjk gojo#connie x black reader#suguru geto x reader#gojo x reader#aot x black reader#geto x black reader#aot connie#eren x reader#eren yeager#eren aot#fluff#attack on titan#jjk choso#aot x y/n#jjk x reader
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can we possibly get the one where Gideon doesn’t like bombshell reader and poor Spencer is watching like☹️
Spencer feels a little like a child of divorce. Like, he absolutely is a child of divorce, but he didn’t think he’d feel this way at work. Lately, all Hotch and Gideon do is argue.
It’s especially odd in that Hotch doesn’t usually go against Gideon’s judgement, even when he doesn’t agree, but you seem to be something Hotch is willing to fight for, and Spencer has no idea why.
“We don’t need her,” Gideon says. Spencer knows it isn’t Gideon being cruel, just stern. “We have a fine team without her.”
“But with her, we’re better. And we have an opening. I know you like Greenaway for it, and I do too–”
“Everyone likes Greenaway for the position, she’s more palatable than L/N, and she works harder.”
Spencer tries not to whip his face back and forth like he’s following a ping pong ball, but it’s hard to keep up. He has no idea what his mentor’s talking about in all honesty, you’d seemed more than palatable when you met him last week. You were nice. And barely anybody is nice to Spencer.
You sounded like you actually wanted to hear him talk, something Gideon has often been alone in. And palatable is a subjective word.
“That’s not necessarily true,” Hotch says, knowing he’s losing.
“We’re not gonna rush into picking someone,” Gideon says, less stern, more neutral.
“No. I have invited her to the Georgia consultation this afternoon.”
Gideon sighs through his nose. The afternoon rolls around quickly. Spencer doesn’t want to think about it but he’s excited to see you, and he feels conflicted in that; Gideon is the first person in a long time who actually seems to care about him, so Spencer is guilty of always aiming to please, but he can’t understand why Gideon dislikes you so much. Am I being easily led? he wonders.
He’ll admit to finding you attractive. In his head, that is. You’d spoken so particularly, you’d looked stunning, and you didn’t make a fuss when he wouldn’t shake your hand. You called him beautiful.
It’s the nicest, kindest attention he’s had since he started. Morgan calls him pretty boy. Spencer knows it’s not the same thing.
They gather in the conference room, Morgan, Hotch, Gideon and Spencer, just a few minutes before 2PM. A minute later, you’re knocking on the door.
“Hello…” You smile when you realise they’re here. “Am I late?”
“No, L/N. Come and take a seat,” Hotch says.
There’s a plastering of documents on the table and an empty seat by both Morgan and Spencer. You choose the one beside Spencer despite a stack of manilla folders, tucking your chair in neatly. “Oh, the grizzly stuff. This will upset my feminine energy.”
Morgan laughs. Gideon glares at the table.
Spencer likes it when you’re around. One more person and suddenly the consultation is a conversation and not a debate. You can keep up with everyone. You laugh at Spencer occasionally and he doesn’t know why, but he can tell it isn’t cruel laughter; he’s had a long time to work out the difference.
Gideon excuses himself for a coffee half an hour in.
Hotch immediately leans across the table. “I’m trying to help you,” he says.
You grimace. “What am I doing wrong now?”
“The laughing.”
“You laugh.”
“I know.” Hotch smiles at you. “You’re getting good at this, you have good insight on the dark triad. You read the book I sent?”
“How’s Haley?” you ask.
He shakes his head, but his smile stays. “Don’t joke about that.”
You’re not flirting. Or, Spencer doesn’t think so. It’s more likely you’re joking as Hotch says, everything about your body language pointing to amicable friendliness besides your flirting tones. “I read the book,” you say. Your gaze turns to Spencer. “Bet you’ve read it too, huh? Morgan said you’ve read every book ever written.”
“That’s an exaggeration,” Spencer says.
“But close?” you ask. “I’d love some recommendations. You know. For profiling.”
“Don’t let her fool you, Reid, she’s well read,” Morgan says.
“Wait, Gideon doesn’t like you because you laugh?” Spencer asks.
It’s a socially inept thing to say, he realises after. You lean back in your chair all sweet and soft with your legs crossed, your dark stockings thin at the knees. He’s so, so worried you’re going to be offended and that’s exactly what he needs, a possible friend isolated again by his inability to read the room, but you don’t chew him out. You nudge his leg gently with the toe of your heel.
“Now who said he doesn’t like me, handsome?” you ask teasingly.
Spencer regrets the heat that floods his face and neck.
“It’s complicated,” you add, your smile more than friendly, Spencer can’t work it out. “But don’t worry, I’ll turn him around eventually. It’s one of my many talents.”
Oh, he thinks. That’s what it is. Spencer’s finally in on the joke.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]
kickoff ch.8 a little cottage on the countryside
ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)
ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.
ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot
ᰔ chapter. 8/x (probably 12)
ᰔ words. 13.5k (...i'm gonna go take a nap lol)
a/n. hello hellooo my dear kickoff readers, hope you're having a nice day so far! this is the longest chapter yet, so i hope you enjoy <3 it's also got one of my favorite tropes everrr hehehehe you could probs guess what it is halfway through. see you at the bottom and happy reading! sorry if there are typos i didn't proofread this one as much as the others haha
nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)
☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1
♬.*ﾟplaylist
You don’t cry much these days, but when you do, it’s usually out of nowhere.
Like now, as you stand in the school’s photo lab, developing the shots that you took for UTokyo’s game against Osaka last week, and you have to swipe at the tears on your cheek threatening to fall all over the captured images of grass, benches, nets, banners, stands, and him.
One of the photographs catches your eye, and you pick it up from the table. It’s a candid moment you took of Gojo on the field right before you confessed to him. You had spotted him first while the team was doing their warm-up, and you thought he looked nice from the way he had that concentrated look on his face that you’ve learned to love. But right before you clicked the shutter, he had turned away, chasing after the ball, and so all you could capture was his back facing you as he looked off ahead into the distance. You wondered if that was how it’s always been this whole time–with you looking at him while he’s looking off at something else. It was a depressing thought, but your mind had a tendency for sadness since that day.
The sound of the photo lab door opening jolts you back to reality, and you quickly straighten your posture and wipe your cheek with your sleeve, trying to sniffle as discreetly as possible, then set the picture down. Your fellow film major greets you quietly, asking if you’re still using the developer liquid, to which you say no, then hand it over to them. You stuff your photographs into a folder and head out the door.
You make it across campus to the Film & Media Studies building, then up to the third floor where your professor's office is. His door was ajar, but you still knocked before entering.
He looks up from the photographs he was grading. “Oh, y/n, hello. How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you, yourself?” you ask, taking a seat on the chair that was fixed to face his desk. You pull your tote bag into your lap.
“Great, thanks. How can I help you?”
You slide the folder to him over the scraped, worn burgundy wood of his desk. “I still had to turn in my photos for the assignment due last week. I appreciate the extension.”
“Ah, right,” he says, taking the folder from you. “I’ll get around to grading them. I’m curious, what did you end up choosing for your subject matter?” He tucks the folder underneath the pile that was to his side.
“I took photos of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni on Thursday last week,” you tell him.
He frowns at you. “Film cameras don’t have that level of zoom, though. I do hope you followed the rubric guidelines for central object to frame ratio, otherwise I’ll have to take off points.”
“Oh– I did. I took the photos from the sidelines,” you tell him, panicking already.
His eyes widened. “From the sidelines? On the field?”
You nod at him, fidgeting with your bag in your lap.
“Wow, I can’t say I’ve ever had a student take photos like that before. That’s pretty challenging to pull off, though,” he says, sitting up straighter, “...you mind if I take a look at them right now?”
You shake your head. “Oh, no. Not at all.”
He pulls your folder out from the bottom of the pile, then gently slips the photos out of them, rearranging them all across his desk. He leans down closer to study some of them, tilting his head curiously at others, furrowing his brow in concentration to a select few. “These are incredible.”
You take in a deep breath. “Thank you, professor.”
He nods at you with acknowledgement, and you watch him as he studies the images quietly for another minute, then looks up at you. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asks when he notices you’re still seated.
“Ah…yes, there was something I wanted to ask you.”
“What is it?” He taps his pen on the desk.
“I was wondering if you could write me a letter of recommendation for the film graduate program.”
He nods, like he was expecting the question. “Yeah, of course. Just send me your resume and portfolio.” He taps eagerly on one of your images. “Please send me digitals for these, too.”
You let out a relieved exhale. “Yes, I will. Thank you so much, professor, I really appreciate it.”
You left the building feeling extremely relieved about your professor agreeing to write your recommendation, but also feeling sad because you couldn’t tell Gojo about it, since this was the full-circle moment for the little arrangement the two of you had. There’s a thought that considers texting him, and you take out your phone then go to his name, but your thumbs just can’t bring yourself to send him a message.
The days of the week go by in a blur, and between every single little moment in life, your mind always wanders to him. It’s hard to get over someone when you’re surrounded by them. Like late at night while you’re editing the digitals of the game last week to send to your professor, and you find yourself staring at the pictures you’ve taken of him. It’s hard to get over him when the school worships the soccer team and you’re forced to see promotional banners and posters all over campus with his stupidly beautiful face in them. You didn’t have the heart to block him on Instagram, because you remember that time he teased you about how you didn’t follow him back, and you wonder if it would make him sad if you blocked him, so you just resorted to deleting the app instead. And although you were the one that asked for space from him, you were growing increasingly annoyed at how good he seemed to be at keeping it.
The library wasn’t even much of a safe space either, since you overheard a group of girls the other day at a table arguing about which of the players on the team is the hottest, and so you find yourself doing your homework on a lovely Wednesday morning at your apartment instead.
You lean back in your chair and look up at the ceiling, and then jump when you hear your phone ring, quickly turning it over to read the caller ID. Nobara. You accept the call, placing her on speaker, then set your phone back down on your desk.
“Hey, Nobie, what’s up?”
“Hey, nothing much. Just wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out,” she says.
“Oh, I would love to, but I’m working on homework right now. It’s due in a couple of hours,” you sigh.
“Boo, you whore. For what class?”
“My stats 130 elective,” you say. “I’m a film major, why do I need to know statistics?” You tap your pen to your chin. “Actually, it might be valid.”
“Is that the class with the creepy professor?” she asks. “The one that got caught with a PornHub tab open while he was presenting his lecture slides.”
“Yeah.”
“I took his class last semester! I still have all my homework for it,” she exclaims on the other end, “do you want me to send it over?”
“Yes, omg, I could kiss you right now,” you groan, resting your head on your arm sprawled across your desk in exhaustion.
“So definite no to hang out?”
“Sorry, I’ll reach out later though,” you sigh, “also, my car is still in repair…apparently something came up with the engine. So we can’t go far unless we invite Mina.”
“That’s fine, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to come if we invite her just to chauffeur,” she says sarcastically. “By the way, how’d the pictures come along? For the newsletter?”
You lift your head up off of the desk in a panic. Shit. You were so focused on turning in your digitals of the game to your professor that you totally forgot you were supposed to send them to Utahime as well. “Oh my god, I forgot. When do they finalize the release again?”
“Isn’t it today at noon? I sent over film club’s photos this morning,” she says.
You glance at the time. 11:56am.
“Nobara, I’ve gotta go. I need to call Utahime, sorry,” you say. She acknowledges you, telling you to hurry, and then you hang up.
You call Utahime and scribble down on a sticky note to paste on your wall as a reminder to buy her a loving gift basket one of these days because of course she extends the release deadline just for you. You finish touching up the digitals and then send them to her via email, and after you finish your statistics homework, she calls you again to meet up somewhere nearby.
“Thanks so much for coming here,” Utahime says as she sits across from you at one of the local cafes you frequent. “Also, this chai latte is so good, I’m honestly surprised.”
You nod at her. “This place has great drinks.” You slide a folder across the table to her and she sets her drink down to accept it.
“Sorry if it was a hassle, but I just had to ask for physicals of these photos,” she sighs as she pulls them out. “They’re amazing, seriously, I gasped when I saw them. I’m used to sifting through a lot of professional sports photos for the newsletter, for all of the teams on campus, but I’ve never seen photos as charming as these. It could be the film photography aspect, since most of the ones I see are digital, but I’m seriously shocked you could capture shots like this at a rowdy men’s soccer match.”
You’re shaking your head at her. “Please don’t compliment me so much, I’ll cry. And it’s no issue, I had a spare set of physicals from when I developed them. You can keep them.”
She smiles at you. “Okay, well then, I think it goes without saying that I’ll definitely be including them for the sports recap this week. I’ll send you the money soon, too.”
You clap your hands together and interlock your fingers. “I’m. So. Grateful. For. You.”
She laughs across from you and takes another sip of her latte before sitting back slightly, glancing at the photos spread across the table. “Hm…how busy are you for the rest of the semester?”
You tilt your head at her and bring your coffee to your lips, taking a sip before setting it back down. “Not terribly busy, I quit my job last month so I’m just taking my assignments as they come and go.”
Utahime nods at you, a thoughtful expression on her face, and she smooths down the fabric of her shirt. “Okay, well, I got an email from the school this morning that one of the newsletter photographers for the men’s soccer team is moving to a different city, so they’re looking to fill in the position as soon as possible and they asked if I knew anyone,” she mentions, resting her elbow on the table and then placing her hand on her cheek. “They usually only hire professionals, but if I put a word in for you, they’d probably offer it to you.”
Your eyes widen at her from across the table, heart beating a bit faster in your chest.
“They pay really well for a part-time job. It’s essentially full-time pay for part-time hours,” she continues, “but it’s probably because you’ll have to travel with the team to their away games, including unofficial matches and conferences. If you’re not that busy for the next two months, then I think it’d be a good opportunity for you to build experience.”
You purse your lips together, considering her words. Although it’s a bit different from your long-term career plans, it was still a great way to get experience before graduate school. And besides, you needed the money, considering you quit your job last month and your savings were starting to run thin–never mind the fact that your car repair bill went from a few thousand yen to somewhere in the tens-of-thousands. And you would prefer to still be able to afford rent. Oh, and eat. Possibly still pay for Netflix.
But then there was the fact that having that kind of job meant that you would be spending a lot of time with the soccer team, and therefore increases the chances of running into Gojo. And you’re supposed to be staying away from him to get over your feelings.
“It sounds like an amazing opportunity, really,” you start, “...but I can’t.”
Utahime frowns at you and sits up straight. “Really? I thought you’d be excited. Why not?”
You sigh. “It’s complicated.”
“y/n…” Utahime starts, “I don’t really know what’s going on in your head right now, but isn’t this your dream? For your work to reach people? I know it’s only a stepping stone, believe me I know very well the path to becoming any sort of artist is an uphill battle of hell, but I’ve known you for a while now. And I know how much your dreams mean to you, and how hard you’re willing to work for them.”
Your heart swells in our chest at Utahime’s words. She was right, and you were starting to get really sick of letting your fears hold you back from what you really wanted in life. “...you’re right, I’m sorry. I’d love to be considered for the position, if you could recommend me.”
She smiles and nods at you. “Will do.”
–
The email for the job offer comes surprisingly fast, and you quickly read through it before accepting. It wasn’t a horrible time commitment, given you’d only have to take pictures during active play during matches, give or take a couple hours before, and the photographers rotate between who takes up each of the conferences so the work was split up. You were able to meet a few of the newsletter photographers & journalists during the game last week, so you already knew some of them. The offer letter came attached with a full calendar of the soccer team’s practice schedule, official match schedule, unofficial match schedule, conference schedule, and other publicity schedule, and you’re shocked at how busy all the players must be. The fact that they still have time to be students–and for most of them, active participants in fraternities–was honestly beyond you.
It seemed like they only had four more official matches left, two being away matches, along with a couple of unofficial matches that they may or may not participate in depending on how the season goes for them.
Their next game was on Friday against Kyoto university, and you were scheduled to shoot for their sports conference the day following as well. So you find yourself on a train embarked for the countryside, and you peer out of the window with a nervous feeling in your stomach. The sparkling skyscrapers and bustling crowds of Tokyo gradually started to give way into sights of expansive lush greenery, picturesque and charming towns, and winding rivers surrounded by trees. The closer you got to Kyoto, the sky became more gray until a steady drizzle began to fall against the train window. When you reached the final station, the rain had dissipated, and the taxi ride to the hotel was only about fifteen minutes. The journey felt exhausting, and you were so incredibly ready to pass out in a comfy bed.
You stood underneath a small sidewalk roof near the vending machines lining the outside of the hotel, trying to keep your bag and suitcase with all your equipment in it dry from the remnant soft mist of rain still lingering in the air.
“Hey, Utahime, sorry to bother you so late,” you say, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear, “but is it the Hilton on 3rd street? Or on Main? Because if it’s the one on Main, then I may have messed up-”
You stop speaking when you hear a masculine voice down the road towards the left, echoing off of the lined up small shops along the sidewalk, and your heart could have recognized the sound anywhere. You’re swift to turn and face that direction, almost dropping your phone in the process, and you see him– the object of all your suffering lately.
Gojo stood there, wide-eyed and stopped completely in his tracks as the recognition of you under the dim street lighting flashes across his face. He’s in pajamas– a red long-sleeve cotton shirt that looks so stupidly soft and comfortable it almost makes you emotional, with some matching checkered red pants. It was the most casual clothing you’ve ever seen him in. His hair appears damp, slightly tousled, from what you could assume was an effort to dry it off fast. And he had crocs on. In sports mode. You make a mental note to ask him about his charms and if he’s willing to trade any of them with you. But maybe some other day. When it doesn’t hurt to think about him.
“y/n?” he calls your name out, astonished. He’s looking at you like he’s just seen a ghost but in the best way possible.
You blink at him, heart skipping a beat just from the mere sight of him, and when you hear Utahime’s voice on the line you’re shaken out of your trance. “Oh, sorry, I’m still here. I…I think I just had my question answered. Thank you, have a good night.” You pull your phone down, gaze lingering on your screen for way too long because you can’t brave yourself to look over at the man to your left, and you end the call.
There’s the sound of remnant puddles of water splashing as he takes a few steps closer to you, and you can see his reflection in the water of the one in front of you. The expression on his face matches the one that was there when you last saw him outside of the UTokyo stadium at the west side exit. It’s an expression you could still see every time you close your eyes.
Finally turning to face him, you purse your lips together. “Hi.”
“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks, voice laced with confusion and you see him take in your appearance with eager flicks of his gaze all around, like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him right now.
“Satoru!” another familiar voice calls out. “Did you get the orange-flavored ones too? Choso’s a fucking idiot and got the grape ones instead. I hate those. They taste like medicine. And ass. Not that I would know what–” You see Geto emerge from the darkness to Gojo’s side, and now he’s looking at you with a surprised look too. “Oh, it’s y/n. What are you doing here?”
“Hey, you two,” you chirp, trying to act as if an entire world of awkwardness wasn’t being exchanged between you and Gojo right now, for the sake of hoping that Geto wasn’t a very good judge of energy. “I’m here to take pictures of the soccer team.”
Your eyes flicker to Gojo, who is still looking at you like he’s never seen a person before.
“Oh, is it for another one of your assignments?” Geto asks.
“No, it’s not. It’s for the newsletter,” you explain to him, “I guess it’s my job now.”
There are a few more distant footsteps that follow behind the two of them, with the crinkling noises of plastic bags hitting against thighs echoing through the streets, and eventually they catch up. You see Nanami and the UTokyo team’s goalie, you believe his name is Choso, arrive at this little gathering that was taking place outside of the hotel.
“That’s awesome!” Geto exclaims. “I’m sure the newsletter will lead to a lot of exposure.”
“Who reads the newsletter?” Choso asks.
Geto nudges him with his elbow. “Dude.”
“What?”
He then fills Choso in on the conversation, “Oh, my bad.”
“Don’t worry, y/n, I read the newsletter,” Geto says, “I read it like the morning paper.”
“It only comes out once a week, but nice try,” you respond, giving him a weary look.
Nanami crosses his arms. “I actually do happen to read it,” he says, “although I refrain from the soccer section. Feels rather egotistic to read it. I find the campus politics section to be enjoyable, though.”
The rest of you exchange annoyed glances at that.
“Satoru reads the soccer section,” Geto says, slinging an arm around him, “‘cause he’s full of himself.”
For a moment, Gojo remains silent, while his teammates, who had been observing him with amused expressions, gradually shift to awkward blinking, like they were expecting him to complain, or say something sarcastic, or joke around by now.
“I do read it,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “I saw the release from yesterday. Your pictures were stunning.”
You’re flustered from the way he’s looking at you. “Thanks.”
Choso opens the plastic bag he was holding, peering down into it. “Shit. Ice cream’s melting, guys.”
“Yeah, we should probably head back to the rooms,” Geto looks at you, “do you want any snacks?”
“Oh, no. I’m good. I was just about to go check-in,” you say to them.
The boys politely say bye to you, and Gojo mentions something about staying back for a bit and hands Nanami the plastic bag he was carrying before they head back into the hotel. And then the two of you are alone under this roof, drops of water falling from it in between the two of you. He takes a step towards you, and you instantly stiffen. He seems to notice because he sighs and then walks past you to the vending machine that was next to you, pulling out some spare change from his pocket and inputting it into the machine.
“Do you want anything to drink?” The machine feeds him something, and he crouches down to pick it up before standing up again.
“No, I’m good, thanks,” you say, hand clutching the handle of your suitcase.
He cracks the can of his soda open. “So, you’re going to be traveling with us for the newsletter now?” he asks, so concisely, like he felt that every word comes with a tax.
“Yeah.”
“We don’t have to act like we’re strangers.”
You turn to face him. “What should we act like then?”
There’s a hesitant look in his expression as he looks down at his feet and then back up at you. “Can’t we at least be friends?”
The question softens you at your core, the tone of his voice sounding genuine. Being friends with him sounds so nice, and you kind of wish that’s what you two always were. Just friends. Maybe it would have avoided all of this heartache. But deep inside you knew that just being friends with him wasn’t an option anymore, at least not for now. “No, sorry. That’s just a recipe for disaster. I have to go check-in now.”
You grab your tote bag from the bench, grip tight onto your suitcase handle and make your way splashing across the shallow puddles then through the hotel’s automatic doors into the warmth of the lobby.
The lighting inside was warm and there were moderately high ceilings adorned with vintage-looking chandeliers. Around the perimeter, there were amenities including a cozy lounge with a fireplace, a small bar serving cocktails, as well as a business lounge with booths and multiple TVs mounted to the walls playing the local news. It made you feel like you were on vacation, and getting to a hotel at this hour while on vacation always meant that you were about ready to pass out on some freshly washed and tucked white linen sheets after taking a nice warm shower with a lavender-scented mini soap bar.
Making your way through the maze of plush seating areas, you get to the concierge desk to check-in. There was a professionally-dressed woman with a slicked-back bun standing there behind the counter, her eyes scanning the computer screen in front of her, and a big, burly man that stood behind her wearing all black that appeared to be security.
“Hello, I’m here to check-in,” you say, placing your forearm on the cold black counter.
The lady doesn’t look up from the computer screen. You clear your throat.
“Oh, hello. Name on the reservation?” she asks you.
You take a look down at your phone screen. The reservation was still under the name of the person that had recently quit the job. “Yui Ishikawa.”
The lady behind the counter hums to herself, obnoxiously tapping at the keyboard with only one of her index fingers. She was chewing gum. “Hm. Don’t see that name here.”
“What?” You squint at your phone and refresh the page, then turn it to face her. “But it’s on your official booking site. There was email confirmation too.”
She glances at your phone screen then taps at the keyboard again, still obnoxiously loud, but she uses her other index finger this time. “Yeah, still nothing.”
“This has to be some kind of mistake,” you say to her.
She looks up at you with an annoyed expression. “Do you want to take a look at the screen? See for yourself.” She turns the monitor to face you.
You don’t even work here, but you could see clear as day on their interface software that there was a reservation for this Yui Ishikawa woman at this time tonight. You point at it. “It’s right there. The reservation is literally right there.”
She turns the screen back to herself and squints at it. “Oh. Well, unfortunately, we already gave that room to someone else. Since it wasn’t there on our system a half hour ago.”
“What? How is that fair?” You were starting to get seriously annoyed. That refreshing shower you were dreaming of was starting to sound more of a need than a want with every passing minute. “Can you give me another room?”
“No, sorry, we’re all booked for tonight,” she tells you, without offering any additional help.
You look at her baffled. The big burly man behind her has now taken an interest in the conversation as well. “Okay…can you tell me if there are any hotels nearby that I could stay at?”
“Look. This is the countryside, ma’am, there are only a handful of hotels in this area that aren’t tourist accommodations. It’s also the night before a men’s college soccer match, and there seems to be some business seminar taking place nearby too. You can call and check, but the closest hotel this large is about an hour away,” she tells you.
“What? An hour away? I can’t afford a cab ride like that,” you tell her.
“Unfortunately, that isn’t really my problem,” she says.
You blink at her. “Are you being serious? This is ridiculous.”
“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to leave if you can’t comply with our booking rules,” she declares.
“Leave?! You’re the ones that messed up the booking!” You’re yelling now, a few heads turning from the bar at the back. Exhaustion was pulsing through your veins and your filter was slipping. “Do you have any idea how to do your damn job?”
The woman guffaws at you. “Alright, that’s it.” She snaps her fingers, and you watch as the big, burly man walks around the counter of the concierge desk to make his way to you.
You take a step back, watching in horror as he towers over you and grabs onto your arm. “Let’s leave without any issues, miss,” he says in a deep voice.
“What?! But– hey, that’s my suitcase! Don’t– wait–”
“Woah, woah, woah,” you hear a familiar voice call out from the left. “What’s going on here?”
The three of you turn your heads in the direction of the voice, and you see Gojo, still clad in those ridiculously soft-looking pajamas, doing a light jog up to the counter.
The woman at the reception desk straightens herself up immediately, and she pets down on her dress and fixes her hair at the mere sight of him. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Nothing to see here, sir! Just a crazy woman that can’t comprehend hotel establishment rules.”
“That crazy woman just so happens to be my wife,” he says, pulling the big burly man’s hand off of your arm.
All three of you look at him dumbfounded.
“Y-Your wife?” the woman asks, sounding equally surprised and disappointed. “But she’s complaining about the fact that she doesn’t have a room.”
“I know, she does that all the time,” he sighs, “she’s got–...early-onset…dementia. Sweetheart, what did I tell you about packing up all your things and leaving the room when I’m not watching you?”
You give him a what the fuck look. He scowls at you to just play along.
“So…she’s with you?” the woman asks.
Gojo nods. “She always forgets that we’ve already booked a room together. Just a silly little sickly lady. Isn’t that right, honey?” He’s holding your shoulders and making you face the concierge woman.
“Y-Yes…” you say awkwardly, trying to put on a smile.
“So, if you could forgive her behavior,” he says with a super pleading voice, pulling you into him so your back is flush against his front side. “I’ll keep her in check from now on.”
The woman lets out a scoff in disbelief. “Alright…just don’t let her out again.” You send her a nasty look. The big burly man lets out a hmph and steps away from you.
“Sure thing. Let’s go, honey,” Gojo says, grabbing the handle of your suitcase in one hand and your upper arm in his other, dragging you with him across the lobby to the elevators. It isn’t until he’s pressed the up button and you finally gain your footing again after stumbling a few steps that you yank away from his grip.
“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, feeling embarrassed.
He looks down at you with a raise of his eyebrow. “Saving you from getting kicked out of the only decent hotel within a thirty-mile radius?”
“I didn’t need your help, I had the situation under control,” you mumble, smoothing out the layers of your clothing.
“Yes. That’s exactly what that looked like,” he muses as the elevator door opens and he steps inside, taking your suitcase with him as hostage. You panic at the sight and step inside with him, the door closing behind you.
“Where are we going?” you ask.
“To my room,” he says, pressing a button on the control pad, “you couldn’t get one, right?”
Your eyes widen. “No…I couldn’t.”
Gojo’s room is on the fourth floor, eleven units down to the right, and you follow him with dragging feet all the way down. Once he makes it in front of the door and takes the keycard out of his pocket, he pauses and looks over at you. “Waiting for you to thank me.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “For what?”
He’s waving the card in the air tauntingly. “You look exhausted as hell right now. I’m the one with the access to a nice hotel vanity and a soft, warm bed,” he practically purrs the words.
You’re instantly folding. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, honey,” he chimes, pressing the card to the reader.
“Stop calling me that,” you grumble as he opens the door for you.
You step into the room, rolling your suitcase inside with you, and take a look around. There was a single bed with the headboard up against the left-side wall, a nightstand on both sides and a desk where you noticed Gojo had his laptop open and a few books out. The bathroom was to the right, and there was a long table that had a coffee machine as well as the TV on top of it.
You place your suitcase against the wall then turn around, standing only a few feet from the entrance of the room, to find Gojo still standing outside in the hallway.
“Do you have to go somewhere?” you ask him. “Why are you just standing there?”
“Oh, I don’t need any of my other stuff,” he says to you, tapping at his pocket where you can see the imprint of his wallet, “room’s all yours.”
Your eyes widen at him. “Wait…are you going to sleep somewhere else?”
He tilts his head at you, as if that was obvious. “Yeah, I was going to go crash on the couch in Suguru’s room or something.”
“But–” you start, stopping yourself.
He’s waiting for you to speak, but you can’t.
“Well…good night, then,” he says and he turns to the side, about to walk down the hall, when you reach out and grab the sleeve of his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.
This was a bad idea. You’re supposed to be putting distance between the two of you right now, so that you can get over him. This was a man that very clearly said he didn’t have feelings for you. But honestly, you missed him. You missed him so damn much this past week, and you can only be strong for so long.
“You have an important match tomorrow,” you say quietly, “you should be getting a good night’s rest. We’ll share the bed.”
He turns to face you, looking down at where you were pinching the fabric of his shirt, which was just as soft as you had imagined, and he glances up to meet your gaze once again. “I’m…really confused right now.”
“What if you guys lose and are booted from the competition, and I have to spend the rest of my life regretting the fact that the reason the school lost a 12-year championship streak is all because I made you sleep on a couch?” you ask him.
He takes a step towards you. “You really want me to stay?” His voice was low.
“Yes,” you say. “We’re mature adults. Despite everything, we can just…share a bed for one night, right?”
He’s silent for a moment. “I think you trust me a little too much.”
Your face felt hot. “Are you telling me that I shouldn’t?”
“I’m telling you that you should really think this through,” he says.
“Just stay. Please.” The tone to your voice came off much more desperate than you would’ve liked.
He looks at you like the last thing in the world he could say right now was no. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Positive?”
“Satoru.”
“Okay,” he says, walking past you into the room, like he wasn’t really in the mood to argue about it anymore.
You sigh, sulking your shoulders a little bit, and watch as he takes a seat at the desk and continues to click through things on his laptop, occasionally sipping on the cup of coffee he had made for himself, as if your presence here was no unnatural thing.
This all felt so domestic for you. This feels like the most intimate the two of you have been with one another, despite the fact he’s literally made you cum with his tongue before.
“Who drinks coffee at this hour?” you ask, crouching down to unzip your suitcase, opening it up to find your cosmetics bag and a fresh pair of clothes to change into.
“Caffeine doesn’t really affect me anymore.” His eyes were still stuck on his laptop screen.
“You sound dead inside,” you comment, standing back up straight. You step over your suitcase that was on the floor and head into the bathroom, about to close the door but you open it enough to peer over at him from inside. “I’m going to take a shower,” you announce.
You see him poke his tongue to his cheek, leg bouncing up and down underneath the desk, and he squints at his laptop screen like there’s something so damn important that he must concentrate on or else the entire universe would collapse inside of a black hole. “Cool. Have fun.”
“I will.”
“I’m glad.”
“No peeping.”
“There’s a lock on the bathroom door. Feel free to use it.”
“That’s rich, coming from you.” And then you’re shutting the door.
It felt nice to freshen up, especially after that long journey, and then you’re doing your skincare in the mirror while you’re wrapped in a towel, trying to forget the fact that the man you quite seriously have immense feelings for is somewhere outside that door just a few feet away in this small hotel room. You spray a spritz of your perfume onto your skin, something there’s literally no point in doing before bedtime, but you still do it…for no particular reason at all, obviously.
When you step back out into the room, Gojo’s eyes are instantly on you from where he stood near the closet. He takes in your appearance and lets out a laugh, looking at you with amusement.
“What?” you ask.
“You look so cute,” he says, “with your little sloth pajamas.”
You’re fully blushing as you make your way over to the armchair in the room to set your cosmetics bag down on it to sort through the mess you’ve just made of it. “Don’t call me cute,” you scold, searching for your lip balm.
You could feel his frown from behind you. “You don’t like it?”
“No. I love it.”
“I’m not following.”
You turn around to face him. “Satoru. You promised me you wouldn’t lead me on anymore. That includes teasing me or complimenting me.”
He looks at you incredulously. “What? I can’t even call you cute? This fucking sucks.”
“Your problem,” you say.
“So you’re cool with sharing a bed, but you’re not cool with me complimenting you,” he lays it out.
“We’re sharing this bed out of the kindness of my own heart,” you say to him, “because I care oh-so-very-much about your soccer career, and understand how important good sleep is for an athlete’s performance. I’m just that considerate of a person.” You point a strict finger at him. “But for your information, if you touch me while we’re in bed, I’ll kill you.”
“Hm. Not sure if I feel threatened or turned on right now,” he says.
You roll your eyes and finally zip up your cosmetics bag, set it on the table then make your way to the left side of the bed. When you glance at the nightstand, you notice Gojo has his wallet, his phone and his charger all situated there.
“Why’s your stuff here?” you ask him.
“Huh? Oh, I was going to sleep on that side,” he says to you.
“I usually sleep on the left side,” you tell him.
“But I usually sleep on the left side.”
You blink at him.
“I–…I’ll sleep on the right side,” he suggests, shoulders tense and on edge.
“Okay,” you shrug, and move his stuff.
Gojo spends some time freshening up in the bathroom too, and when he comes out he looks like he’s actually tired, and you feel like it’s the first time you’ve seen him look as worn out as he probably should be for someone as busy as him. You’re already settled under the sheets, the duvet pulled all the way up to your chin as you lay on your back. He comes up to the right side of the bed, checking his phone for a few minutes while standing and rubbing at the back of his neck, then plugs his phone into the charger. He grabs the sheets, about to pull them back, when he pauses and looks at you.
“Are you su-”
“If you ask me if I’m sure about this one more time, I will no longer feel sorry for you, and will make you go sleep on the love-stained couch,” you threaten him.
He grimaces at your choice of words and pulls the sheets back, slipping himself into bed. “Why do you have to put it like that? You’re gross. Also, I’m pretty sure this bed has seen less-than-holy things too.”
The only lighting in the room came from the warm, dim bulb of the night lamp at Gojo’s nightstand. An incredibly awkward silence settles between the two of you. Or maybe it’s just awkward for you, because he seems fine. He’s on his back too, looking up at the ceiling, practically motionless but there’s the faintest sound of his breathing every once in a while and it’s a sound you’ve never heard in such detail before.
He turns his head to you, but you don’t meet his gaze just yet. You shuffle a little bit, hip bumping against his side, elbow hitting his arm. He’s masculine next to you, shoulders hard, muscles heavy, but when you finally turn your head to glance at him and see the expression on his face, you realize that everything about him was rigid—except for the way he was looking at you.
“When did you sneak it in?” he asks.
“Sneak what in?”
“The can of strawberry vanilla soda. Into my bag.”
You swear your heart stills a little in your chest.
“Before,” is all you say to him.
He sighs. “y/n…”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to feel bad for me. I wanted you to have it, regardless of how I thought my confession would go,” you assure.
It’s hard to read his expression from the side while he’s looking up at the ceiling, but it’s softer than it was a second ago. The need to change the subject consumes you.
“Why do you have calluses on your fingertips?” you ask him. “You’re a soccer player, you don’t use your hands for anything.”
“I play the guitar,” he replies simply.
You perch yourself up on an elbow, looking down at him with interest. His eyes flicker to your face. “Really?”
“No. I was just kidding. Hate the way you got excited though. I might have to pick up a guitar now.”
“Can you just answer me?” you sigh, flopping down onto your back again.
He laughs a little, a sound you feel like you could get drunk on at this point. He lifts his head up off the pillow enough to tuck his right hand underneath it, then rests it back down. You wish there was a mirror on the ceiling so you could see the flex of his arm. “Coach has us do the rock climbing wall at the gym at least once a week for practice. He thinks it’s a good workout. Causes a hell of a lot of skin tear though.”
“That’s it? That’s the reason?”
“Mhm.”
You shake your head, “You should learn how to play the guitar, because that’s a lame reason to have calluses.”
He lifts his head up off the pillow again and brings the hand that was tucked under his nape to in front of his face and he just looks at it. You look at it too. “Why are you so obsessed with the state of my hands?
“A girl can’t be curious?” you ask.
“They’re not that bad.” You wonder if you’ve made him self-conscious.
You watch the way he flexes his fingers open and then closed. He turns it around, and you can see the veins trailing down from the valleys of his knuckles, disappearing into the fabric of his long sleeve. You remember that party, the two of you in that bathroom, when his hands were all over you, and it’s suddenly a little hard to breathe. He turns his hand again so the palm faces him, but now it’s also slightly turned towards you too.
“They’re bad here,” you say, pointing to his ring finger where you see slight peeling at the tip. The padded skin of your finger touches his skin. “A little bad here, too.” You point to his index finger, careless enough to allow all of your fingers to brush against his this time.
He watches you. “Your hands are really small,” he comments, like it was a marvel to him.
You look over at him briefly, and there’s not a single sign of tension in his face as he observes the image of your hand next to his hand in the air above him. He looked like he was at peace.
“Yours are just big,” you tell him.
He knows he’s not supposed to, and you really shouldn’t have let him, but he interlocks his fingers with yours regardless, holding onto your hand. You feel the roughness of those calluses all across your soft skin. His thumb runs over the curve of your knuckle, almost in a soothing way, like he was trying to apologize to you for something. And this was the only way he knew how.
Something sobers him up, because he suddenly pulls his fingers from yours and drops his hand to the duvet. Your hand lingers in the air for a few seconds before you do the same. And now you’re both awkwardly staring up at the ceiling again.
“Sorry,” he says, barely above a whisper.
“It’s okay,” you whisper too.
The silence settles for longer.
He sighs. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he says out of nowhere.
“Huh?” you turned your body a little to face him, and he was looking up at the ceiling as if there was something across the texture that he was trying to decipher.
“I don’t want you thinking that the reason I can’t-,” he pauses, to think carefully about his words, “...that the reason I can’t return your feelings is because of you, or anything you’ve done. It’s been a while since I’ve liked anyone to be honest, and I’m just really not looking to date right now.”
You’re hurt by his words. Because even if he didn’t want to date anyone, you thought that he would’ve at least tried to for you. You thought that he had at least some feelings that the two of you could’ve worked off of. “Why don’t you want to date anyone?”
“Reasons.”
“Obviously. What reasons?” you prod. When he doesn’t respond, you sigh. “If it’s something traumatic, I get it. My hamster died in the fourth grade,” you say, “I’ve never known peace since.”
He turns onto his side to face you with a soft and amused smile on his face. “Sorry to hear that. What was your hamster’s name?”
You try not to feel hot from the burn of his gaze and you turn onto your back to look up at the ceiling again. “Mr. Guilmon,” you say.
“Like…guilmon from digimon?
“Mhm.”
“You like digimon?”
“Oh yeah, I used to watch it all the time when I was a kid. My mom wanted to name my hamster ‘Scout’ but I refused,” you tell him, blinking a few times as the memories from your childhood come back to you. A small smile makes its way onto your face.
“I love digimon,” he says, fast, like he couldn’t contain it.
“Really?” you give him a sidewards glance, a little surprised.
He hesitates slightly before sighing, turning over in the opposite direction to reach for his wallet on his nightstand. You feel the fabric of the duvet stretch across you from the movement, and you remember just how intimate this all felt. He’s laying on his back again, holding his wallet up in the air with both hands as he flips it open, then slides his credit card up out of the slot, and shows it to you. Digimon themed. You have to purse your lips together to hold back your laughter.
He turns his head to look at you when you can’t help but let a little noise escape your mouth, and you can see through the laughter-induced sheen of tears in your eyes that he’s frowning.
“Hey–”
“I’m sorry–” you're fully laughing at this point, hand over your mouth to try to contain yourself, “it’s just– oh my god— you’re the last person I would’ve expected to have been such a nerd.”
“I’m not a nerd–” he tries to argue but you snatch the card out of his hand to study it closer, and also to memorize the numbers on the back.
“Popular soccer boy Gojo Satoru,” you’re giggling, “has a custom Digimon credit card.”
When he tries to reach for it, you stretch your arm off to the left. His weight leans on you, chest pressing against the curve of your shoulder, arm extending across you as he tries to grab his card back. “Quit it,” he mutters.
“No,” you say, holding it further to your left, weakly trying to push him away from you.
“Quit it,” he repeats, face scowling now with what looks like embarrassment, and he holds his upper body up by the elbow, leaning over you even more to reclaim it, “or else.”
“Or else, what?” you say through wheezes, and it seems like something in him snaps because suddenly he grabs your wrist, hard, pinning it down onto the mattress, holding it there next to your head, and his entire upper body is towering over you. Shocked, you’re breathing fast, your eyes darting across his face, and he’s looking at you with a furrowed brow and a tense jaw.
“Or else I won’t keep my promise,” he says through a harsh breath, his voice low and rough.
You’re stunned underneath him. “What promise?” you ask, breathlessly.
He leans down closer, to the point where the fringe of his hair brushes against your forehead. “My promise to hold myself back from you.”
You swallow hard, chest heaving. You feel the heat of his hand on your wrist burning through to your veins. You try to squirm slightly in his grip, but he just presses your wrist down further into the mattress.
He glances at your lips, eyes dilated and stern, and leans down even closer to you. “Do you have any idea how bad I’ve been wanting to punish you for leaving me in that bathroom by myself?” he says in a voice so husky you feel the arousal build at your center the second your head registers it.
You can’t find your words. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, as if to make sure yours stay on his too, and you’re docile under him until he’s distracted you enough to pinch his credit card between two of his fingers and discretely pull it out from your grip. He then lets go of your wrist and disappears out of your line of sight when he flops back down onto the mattress next to you, tucking his card back into his wallet.
“But I won’t. Because I’m a nice person, and will respect your space. Or whatever.”
You don’t know what to say, your hand finding a place over your heart as you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down.
“We should probably go to sleep,” he sighs after a minute, tossing his wallet back onto the nightstand and reaching over to turn off the light.
It’s dark now in the room, the only light coming from through the layered fabrics of the curtains. It's a cold light, possibly from the moon and maybe some dim neighboring white street lights, but it’s enough to where you could still see the slight texture of the ceiling, and maybe his face.
You both spend a few minutes trying to get comfortable. You try not to bump your butt against him, or brush your chest against his arm, but it happens a couple times anyway, and you mentally curse yourself for it. The rise of the duvet fabric from his chest becomes shallow with his breathing, and you think he’s fallen asleep, but then the two of you turn over at the exact same time, facing each other, eyes flying open and gazes meeting. It startles the both of you, but neither of you look away or say a word. The two of you just sit in the moment for what feels like hours, and very could’ve easily been.
You’re the first to break the silence. “You know, there was a time where I thought that you weren’t even real.” You’re speaking hushed, like you’re afraid someone will hear, even though there’s only two souls in this room right now.
“What?” he asks, a slight raise to his eyebrow. “...why.”
“I don’t know. You’re like this urban legend around campus. You probably don’t know it, since you’re in it, but the world you’re in is very different from the world the rest of us students are in.”
He’s silent for a moment, his face being briefly illuminated by the reflection of a car’s headlights on the windows of the surrounding building. “I think I know what you mean.”
You blink at him. “I thought you would have a few more follow-up questions to that, but I guess you’re surprisingly self-aware.”
He hums to himself. “I think I can just put it into perspective.”
“Perspective?” you ask. You’re hanging onto every single one of his words tonight. You don’t want a single one of them slipping through you, not understood.
“Yeah,” he says, “there are moments where I feel like I’m not in that world anymore. And it feels nice. To get out of it.”
You want to ask him when those moments are, but he’s quick to speak again.
“I guess that means I’m aware of the moments where I am in it, so I know that it exists, if that makes sense? I don’t know.” He looks down at your pajamas, at the dancing sloth at the front, and the crease to his brow relaxes slightly.
“Mhm, makes sense.”
His eyes are back on you, studying. There’s a strange look on his face that you can’t really comprehend. “I want to know about your world,” he says.
You breathe in deep, and exhale shallow. “My world is simple. I want to be a filmmaker and then live in a little cottage.”
He smiles at you. “A little cottage?”
“Yeah,” you say, “maybe in the countryside. The Italian countryside. With my own garden in the backyard so I can use fresh zucchini in my salads.”
“Any animals? Pets?” he asks, like he’s envisioning it all in his head too.
“Maybe some chickens,” you say, “I promised Mr. Guilmon I’d name another one of my pets after him someday. I have to keep my promise.”
He nods. “You do.”
There’s another silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward this time.
“Did you turn your photos in to your professor?” he asks.
“Yeah, I did,” you tell him. “Earlier this week.”
“Nice. What about your reference for grad school?”
“I asked him for it.”
“Oh?” His eyebrows raise. “How’d it go?”
“Mm…I was really nervous, but it went well. He said he’d do it.”
There’s such a tenderness to his expression that you feel so compelled to kiss him right now. “That’s awesome. I’m proud of you. That’s one step closer to your dream.”
You purse your lips together from his words, sitting with the warm feeling in your chest. You want to thank him again, but instead all you say is “we’re even now.”
He lets out a small chuckle. It comes from his throat. “You’ve said that so many times.”
“I know.” Because you can’t believe it’s all over. This little arrangement between the two of you. You don’t want it to be over. “I can’t remember when the first time I said it was.”
“That night,” he answers you fast and with certainty, like it was at the forefront of his mind, “when you drove over rocks. And we sat together on the curb. And I realized how badly you take care of your car. You don’t need thousands of chain restaurant napkins in your glovebox, by the way. No matter how much you might think you do.”
“Wow. I was almost romanced by you for a second, but you ruined it,” you mumble.
You’re instantly taken back to that night. You remember the gentle quality in his eyes as he stared up at the stars, and you can still see the reflection of that sky in his eyes right now with the way he’s looking at you.
“I really liked you that night,” you whisper, “I wish you were like that all the time.”
“Am I not like that all the time?” he asks, voice soft to match yours.
“No,” you say, “sometimes you’re mean.”
His eyes on you are gentle, somewhat careful. “I’m sorry for being mean.”
You wonder if you can change his mind. If you can will him to like you back, if you can will him into wanting a relationship with you. You want to be his exception, not his rule.
“It’s okay. I’m mean sometimes, too,” you say, “mean to myself for sharing a bed with a guy that doesn’t like me.” He’s looking at your lips as you speak. “I’m bad like that.”
“You’re not bad,” is all he says.
“I am,” you say, and you inch closer to him, until there’s hardly any space between the two of you. You look up at him, faces inches away. You feel so safe with him, and yet you also feel scared, because you like him so much that you would let him ruin you if he wanted to. You press a flat palm to his shirt, searching for his heart, and you find that it’s beating fast in his chest. “I’m a bad woman, Satoru.”
“y/n,” he says, like a warning.
“I mean it,” you whisper.
“You said you’d kill me if I touch you,” he reminds you, sounding a little breathless.
“I can’t kill you, you’re way stronger than me,” you whisper, “so touch me.” Your hand is gripping onto the fabric of his shirt now, tight, with desire. He’s looking at you with a whole lot of desire too, but there was something else there as well. “Please.”
He wraps his hand around your wrist–the heat of his touch that you so badly wanted, craved, finally on you–but it’s to pull you away from him. Your grasp on his shirt releases and he brings your hand to the front of your chest, laying it down gently before letting it go. Your wrist lays limp there, missing his touch. Limp in front of your beating heart.
“Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” he says softly.
Your eyes widen when you look at him, and you couldn’t even hide the hurt that settled across your face if you tried. Gaze dropping to his chest, you see the way it was rising with every breath he took, and for the second time in this life, you’ve felt so utterly rejected by him. You give him a compliant nod, and scootch back away from him before turning away. He stays as he is, watching your back, and you can feel his gaze on the nape of your neck.
Counting the minutes to fall asleep felt exhausting, but the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes was the feeling of a tear trickling down onto your pillow, wet and cold against your cheek.
–
You wake up the next morning to an empty bed, and an even emptier feeling heart. There’s also this weird feeling of disappointment within you, and you don’t really know why.
Grabbing your phone on the nightstand, you quickly search for the email with the men’s soccer team practice schedule, and you see that they had a sharp 8am practice this morning before the game in the afternoon. The time reads 6:37am, and you’re wondering where Gojo went so early in the morning before heading off to the practice field.
You went back to sleep for a couple hours, and then woke up again. By the time you took a shower, got dressed, and went downstairs to the hotel lobby to eat breakfast, it was already 10:00am and it was time to make it to the field so you could set up and calibrate your camera prior to taking photos for the match. Following Utahime’s gameday instructions, you took a cab to the location with all of your gear.
The Kyoto soccer stadium was less of a stadium and more of an extremely large and open expanse of grass that had enormous silver metal stands stretching across the perimeter. It was something you would expect of an area in the countryside, but security was still somehow tight across the fenced off area.
It was still a couple hours before the game, so the field was bustling with pre-game set-ups and the stands were empty. There were a few sports canopies being put up, as well as a small truck with workers that were working to stock up the hydration stations. A few men in suits were seated at tables with notepads and clipboards, looking busy in conversation and on what sounded like business calls. As you walk down the sidelines, you notice a few other people checking the distances between the goals and the chalk markings across the field. The stands were extremely close to all of the action, and when you look to the right, you see a couple of familiar faces there.
“Ah, y/n! We’re over here.”
You approach the group of three people, all seated on the lowest metal bench of one of the spectator sections. There were a bunch of tripods, cameras, cases, and laptops sprawled across in front of them. You recognize Hana and Minato, but you don’t recognize the other man sitting with them. You had met Hana and Minato at the game against Osaka last week, they were both professional photographers for the newsletter.
Hana hops off the bench and comes up to you. “It’s seriously so cool you’re here with us and that Utahime got you this gig,” she says to you with a smile. “Make sure your schedule is free on nights after matches, all us photographers usually get dinner together afterwards. You’re the baby out of us, so we’ll pay for you.”
You return her smile with one of your own. “That’s sweet, and sure I’ll try to.”
You glance at the man whose name you didn’t know, your gaze meeting his, and soon enough he’s jumping up onto his feet too and making his way over to you.
“Ah, this is Kaito. Kai for short,” Hana says, gesturing to the man, and then to you.
Kai extends his hand out for you to shake. He’s tall and a bit lean. His style is really boyish—totally nailing the street photographer outfit with the white shirt underneath a flannel one, and some Carhartt pants paired with some Vans. You reach out to shake his hand, and he holds onto it for a second longer than you would’ve expected.
“Hi,” you greet him and tell him your name.
“That’s a nice name,” he says with a smile.
Hana claps her hands together. “Okay! We all know each other now, that’s great. We should get started prepping before the players get here, I believe they’re scheduled to be here in an hour.” She walks over to the benches and picks up her digital camera. Minato grabs his as well as his tripod, then walks over to Hana’s side. “The way we usually do it is to split the field into corners, and each of us works that perimeter. The videographers are here too, so just make sure you don’t accidentally knock over or stand in front of one of their cameras.”
All three of you nod at her and you unzip your case to take your film camera out. Kai is next to you, looking at the device in your hands curiously.
“Kai, you can work with y/n for today since it’s her first day. Split up those two corners over there,” Hana says, pointing to the other end of the field. You and Kai look in that direction. “Minato and I will take the other short end.”
With a few more discussions and detailed instructions, the four of you disperse to your assigned locations. You’re a step ahead of Kai, although he should really be the one leading your stride since you’re the new one here, but he soon enough catches up to you.
“Is that a Canon AE-1?” he asks you, pointing to your camera.
You look at him a little surprised. “Yeah, it is. As vintage as they get.”
“Sweet, I used to shoot on film too. Second-hand?”
“No, third. Still cost me an arm and a leg, though,” you sigh.
He laughs. “They’re not that expensive.”
“I’m a broke college student. I sometimes have to choose between paying rent and eating food,” you say to him.
He kicks at a random can on the grass, sending it flying forward, instead of picking it up. “Yeah, definitely don’t miss those days.”
“When did you graduate?” you ask.
“From UTokyo two years ago,” he says.
You bend over to pick up the can he kicked and jog a little to the trashcan nearby, tossing it in, then jog back to him. “That’s nice. You’ve been doing this for two years?”
“Yup,” he says to you as the two of you reach the corner of the field outlined by freshly drawn chalk. He kneels down on the grass, sets his camera case down, and opens it up. Your jaw drops.
“Is that a—Leica camera?” you ask him, shocked.
He smirks up at you. “Sure is.”
“Oh, so you’re just rich, then,” you sit down on the grass to look at it with interest, marveling at its condition.
“Nope. I’ll bet I got it for cheaper than your Canon there,” he points to the camera hung at your neck.
You meet his gaze. “No way.”
“Way,” he says, pulling out the attachable lens before wiping at it with a microfiber cloth, “I know a guy. He sells used cameras. The only issue is you’ve gotta refurbish them yourself.”
You sigh. “Wonderful. Because I would know how to do that.”
He lets out a half-laugh, and you glance up briefly to look at his expression. He was amused. “It’s pretty easy, just gotta do it once. And then you’ll have a used Leica that works brand-new, all for just under a hundred-thousand yen.”
You’re looking at him with surprise again. “That cheap?”
“Yup.”
“Wow…” Your finger plays with the lens cap on your camera.
“If you want, I can send you his info. But if you want to meet up with him, it’ll probably have to be facilitated through me,” Kai says, “He takes clients by recommendation. No use in selling a used camera to an idiot that doesn’t know how to refurbish it. He’s looking for niche photographers that have the interest.”
You press your lips together, considering it. “Sure.”
He hands his phone to you. “Alright, gimme your number.”
You hesitate for a second before typing your number into his contacts then hand it back and watch as he saves it in his phone. “Canon girl. Won’t forget ya.”
The two of you make work for a second, eyeing the field and mapping out angles of where to get the best shots during play. Kai gives you some pointers and you’re marveling at how good they are.
“Not really used to shooting on film anymore,” he mumbles, peering through the hole on your camera when you handed it over to him, “but usually a one over five-hundred shutter speed works well for sports. I’d switch between that and over two-fifty though, to avoid a blurry finish.”
“Thanks,” you say to him, wanting to write all this down to not forget it. “Wish I knew this last week.”
“Why shoot on film?” he asks out of nowhere, handing your camera back to you. “Why not digital?”
“Oh, it’s a personal interest,” you say to him, adjusting your shutter speed as he suggested, “I think there’s a charm to it. I want to be a movie maker, and shoot on film medium.”
He frowns at you. “How are you going to do that?”
You tilt your head at him, shuffling on the grass. “I’m going to apply to the film graduate program at UTokyo to start.”
He laughs at that from where he’s seated across from you. “Really? That’s a waste of your time.”
Your heart sinks a little in your chest from his tone. “Why would it be a waste of my time?”
He turns to face you more directly. “y/n, trust me, I know this career path. Been there, done that. Millions of film majors like yourself always have these big-ass dreams like ‘I want to become a director, I want to do screenplay’ etc., but only one or two of them actually succeed.”
Your shoulders sulk. It’s not the first time you’ve heard those words from someone—your own parents practically recited them word-for-word before you headed off to college—but you had been doing really well all of senior year to ignore that nagging little voice in your head. It was honestly quite triggering to hear it all again right now. “Well, I think I can do it.”
He lets out a short scoff. “You sound real convincing there.” When he catches sight of your upset expression, he straightens his back a little. “My bad. Just trying to look out for you. I’m your senior in this industry. I know my way around these things. Trust me.”
You nod slowly. “I know. Thanks.” Part of you wonders if he’s just projecting.
“Well anyway,” he shrugs, “I think you should just focus on photography for now. It’s the safest career option for you to do.”
“I guess you’re right,” you say, wanting to diffuse the conversation.
The two of you disperse to your assigned corners once the stands start to fill with spectators. Shortly after, the players make their introductions onto the field, and you can see Gojo across the field. He’s too far to read his expression, but for some reason when you look at him, that disappointed feeling from this morning comes back to you. You try to push it down and just focus on your task at hand.
UTokyo does well during the match, and Gojo seems to be playing much better than the Osaka game last week, scoring two goals within the first half. There were a couple of times where there were throw-ins near your corner, and you made eye contact with him as he’s breathing heavily, wiping the sweat off his face with his jersey, and every time you look at him, that melancholic feeling washes over you again. UTokyo wins 3-2, the crowd evidently disappointed as they were rooting for their home team, and by the time the disgruntled fans started to clear the stands, the sun was setting over the horizon and the sky was a golden color.
The referees on the field begin to oversee the post-match proceedings with the players. Kai comes around to meet you at your corner, and Hana and Minato arrive there too.
“Hey team! How’d it go?” Hana asks, a little out of breath from her journey over here.
“Went fine,” Kai responds.
“It was a little tricky,” you comment, “but I think my photos came out well.”
Hana nods. “Alright, sounds good. Are we still on for dinner tonight?”
Kai and Minato nod, and then all three sets of eyes are on you. You hesitate for a moment, and look off past them to where you see the group of soccer players in conversations with the coaches and referees. You see Gojo standing there, his hands on his hips as he peered across the field, tilting his neck to the side repeatedly, and you realize he had been doing that all match long. That unsettling feeling within you starts to brew once again. “Uh, I’m really sorry, but I’m not feeling very well. I think I might just head back to the hotel.”
Hana and Minato nod at you with a concerned expression, while Kai just looks disappointed.
“Okay, well, I hope you feel better,” she says.
You end up taking an Uber back to the hotel in haste, not wanting to run into Gojo or any of the other soccer players after their match, and make it to the room, using the key card that Gojo gave you to get inside. You take a shower to freshen up, and by the time it’s 7pm, you’re starving. You put on a simple outfit and make it downstairs into the lobby of the hotel, about to go peruse the nearby dining options, but right when you step out of the elevator, you run into Gojo.
There’s a look of pleasant surprise on his face and you take in his appearance. He was still wearing his soccer jersey, covered in grass and dirt stains, and his face was slightly flushed from exertion. You figured he just came back from the field.
“Hey,” he says, “sorry, I was just about to head over there.” He jerks his head off towards the lobby, and you glance in that direction. There was a group of maybe thirty people gathered around the lounging areas and high-tables over at the business suite, and you recognize them as UTokyo’s soccer players, along with Coach Yaga and other team staff. The players were still all clad in their uniforms, carrying all their stuff, and there were plays of today’s game rerunning across the TV screens. You realize they’re probably prepping for interview questions for tomorrow’s conference.
“Oh, please, go ahead,” you say to him.
He tilts his head at you. “Are you doing alright?”
You were aware that things might feel awkward after last night, and that your cheeks would probably feel hot like they do now the next time you had to talk to him. Your mind takes you back to the memories, when you think about how badly you wanted him to stay with you in the room because of that hollow feeling in your chest from missing him, despite how you knew it was bad for you. Because this man standing in front of you doesn’t like you in the way that you like him.
And then it clicks. The reason for that feeling of disappointment you’ve had since the moment you woke up today.
When you glance up at Gojo this time, you see him differently than you had from a second ago. You finally notice the slight dark circles under his eyes, and figure out that the reason he’s been tilting his neck to the side all day was because he was trying to stretch out a kink. You vaguely recall that moment you woke up in the middle of the night, and your sleepy brain registered that there was no longer the dip of him in the mattress next to you.
“When did you leave the room?” you ask him. You know your voice is quiet when he has to lean down a bit to hear you.
He takes his time answering, indulging in a few breaths. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean,” you say, starting to sound hostile, “you left during the night, didn’t you?”
He doesn’t deny it.
“You left once I fell asleep,” you say, eyes widening with realization.
He sighs. “Yes.”
“Where did you go to sleep?” you ask, trying to keep your tone level.
“Suguru’s room had an extra couch. I pushed them together.”
You felt sick and sad, feeling something worse than rejection right now. There was a part of you that still thought that all of this from him was just a joke. A prank. That he was finally going to say just kidding, I like you too. The reason you’ve been so disappointed since the minute you woke up today was because there was a part of you that thought you were going to wake up this morning with his arms wrapped around you, back pressed tight to his chest while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear of how much he likes you, of how much he wants you, of how much he wants to be with you.
“Why? Even after I said I didn’t want you to have bad sleep?” Your voice was laced with hurt. You didn’t even know how to explain to him why it upset you, because deep down you’re scared it isn’t even valid.
“It’s fine,” he says, “I played fine today. And we won.”
“You could’ve stayed. Do you really hate me that much?” Your words are shooting to kill now. “So I’m good enough to finger in a bathroom at a frat party, but not good enough to sleep next to?”
He furrows his brow. “I don’t understand why we’re arguing about this,” he says, tone starting to match yours, “you’re the one that wanted space. I was just trying to respect that.”
“If you really wanted to respect my space, you wouldn’t have agreed to share the bed with me in the first place.”
“y/n,” he says, “that’s not fair.”
“You should’ve known better.” You’re breathing fast, tone searingly accusive. “You know that I’m trying to get over you, and that I’m vulnerable, and that I’m probably confused about a lot of things right now.”
“I ask if we could at least be friends, you say no because it’d be some recipe for disaster, then you practically beg me to stay with you and tell me to touch you while we’re laying down together. You don’t think that’s confusing for me too?” he counters.
Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at the memory of your desperate actions last night, and he instantly looks apologetic. You feel like you’re being unfair, but you feel like he’s being unfair too.
“I’m the one with feelings,” is all you say in your defense.
He swipes at his chin roughly with the back of his hand, smudging the dirt up to his cheek, and then closes his eyes for a second, like the weight of today has finally hit him all at once. He looks exhausted. “Right,” he says, softly, “I’m sorry.”
“Yo, Satoru!” one of his teammates yells from the center of the lobby. “Coach needs you, man.”
He rubs a hand down his tired face then throws a haphazard glance over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” he calls out and then looks back at you. You can’t make eye contact with him, and just stare at the print on his jersey instead. “I’ll sleep in Suguru’s again tonight. The room is yours.”
There’s a lump in your throat and you feel like you’re about to cry. “Okay.”
He reaches into his shorts pocket and gives you a room card. “Here’s the spare. I don’t need to come grab my stuff for the night, so don’t worry.”
“Okay.”
He sounds like he wants to say more, and you see him take a small step towards you, hand reaching out for you, but this time Coach Yaga’s stern voice is calling out to him too. He sighs. “Good night.”
“Mhm. Thanks.”
He hesitates before he turns on his heel and you watch his back, with that signature #10 stretched across the fabric of his uniforn, as he jogs through the hotel lobby to his teammates.
The walk back to the hotel room is depressing, and you find yourself dragging your feet all the way there. Once you make your way inside, you look around at the room and see some of Gojo’s belongings scattered around, but it didn’t seem like there were any of his essentials. You look down at the spare key card in your hand–a promise from him that he won’t try to upset you anymore tonight–and that lump in your throat from earlier comes back.
You hated fighting with him. You hated being away from him. Those feelings that you thought would go away just as fast as they came still sat so stubbornly within your heart, and it was becoming impossible to bear.
You wonder if meeting him was all just some horrible, twisted mistake.
Before you have time to dwell on that sad sentiment, your phone screen lights up with a message.
|| 7:52pm unknown number: kinda sucks you’re not here with us. was looking forward to showing you more of my camera
|| 7:53pm unknown number: this is kai by the way
The features of your face feel heavy as you look down at your phone screen. You don’t even notice your eyes are teary until you realize the blur of your vision makes it hard to see the letters as you type out a response.
You just wanted a distraction from all this pain.
|| 7:54pm you: can you send me the address? i wanna be there
a/n. grrrr i love a one-bed trope so much grrrrrrrrr it's gonna do it for me every damn time lol. thanks a bunch for reading!! there's still so much that i've got planned for the series haha i think the second half is gonna be a lot crazier than the first. super excited to write it though.
by the way! i'm starting a choso x reader zombie au series, if you'd like to read more about it and/or be added to the taglist, you can reply to this post here
also if you want to be added to taglist in general, i'd recommend making sure your tags are on!! since i've noticed a lot of people have them off
➸ take me to chapter nine!
taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd (hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo smut#jjk gojo#geto suguru#gojo satoru angst#nanami kento#choso kamo#series#yaga masamichi#alternate universe#college#college au#soccer#sports au#fraternity#sorority#tw drinking#partying#anime#romance#smut#fluff#angst#jjk smut#long fic#jjk series#ongoing series
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best friend!reader x best friend!steddie and shes telling them how she doesnt know how to give head so they teach her🥹
HELLO I SCREAMED. YES A MILLION TIMES.
(sorry for any mistakes it’s 2 am and i didn’t proofread oops)
18+ — MINORS DNI
————
Steve should’ve known Eddie was cooking something up whilst you were explaining your dilemma. He should’ve seen it coming, but he was too busy listening to you ramble about how you’re scared to give a blowjob because you’ve never done it— scared about what movements feel good and how to be conscious of your teeth (you’ve heard that men complain about that a lot).
He was being a nice friend, consoling you and trying his best to assure you that you’re just overthinking and when the time comes, you won’t be as bad as you think you’ll be.
And Steve was so occupied with you that you both seemed to have forgotten the little devil sitting on the opposite side of you until he spoke up, tone suggestive with a glint in his eyes that made you what to squirm, “What if we just showed you how to do it?”
So now, Steve’s jeans are pooled around his ankles and his shirt is rucked up his chest as you and Eddie kneel before him. Steve’s not exactly sure why he was chosen to be the demonstration model, but he can’t find it in him to complain— especially not when your warm hands are slowly jerking him off in a toe-curling way that has him nearly seeing god.
Eddie’s hand rests over your hand, gently guiding your sinful movements and the scene causes Steve’s eyes to roll with a string of curses falling from his tongue. Eddie smirks at the sight, “Feels good, big boy?”
“Y-yeah… fuck, I don’t wanna cum before she has a chance. Hurry up, Munson.”
Eddie laughs and rolls his eyes before turning to you, “Okay sweetheart, Stevie here can’t take much more of your teasing so we’re gonna have to move onto the next step. Consider that a compliment.” He winks and you preen.
Eddie’s fist is gently stroking Steve’s cock as he speaks, “It’s easy, really. You can start out with a few licks and kisses, but overall, just imagine you’re sucking a popsicle.” Eddie leans forward, hand still stroking the throbbing cock as he licks at the tip a few times before pressing a few kisses to the underside of Steve’s cock.
Steve’s thighs tense, breath stuttering at Eddie’s teasing touches. Eddie’s lips close around the tip of Steve and he gently suckles, lapping up the bit of precum and humming at the taste. As Eddie sinks lower, Steve moans, a curse falling from his lips. Eddie sucks him off for a little bit before he pulls off with an approving hum, smirking at Steve’s disheveled state and the sight of your intrigued expression.
“Wanna try, sweetheart?” He asks. You quickly nod and he shuffles to the side to make room for you. You eagerly grasp Steve’s wet cock, stroking a few times as Eddie had beforehand. You lean forward to mouth at Steve’s cock, but you hesitate last second, glancing over at Eddie for an approving nod which he quickly gives.
You lean in, alternating between sloppy kisses and wet licks up his cock. You keep going until Steve’s hand reaches up to hold your head, resting there in an encouraging manner. You wrap your lips around his tip and suck, just like Eddie, slowly moving down the length of Steve. You can hear Steve’s bated breathing and Eddie’s soft praise, “Good girl, you’re taking him so well, princess.” His ringed hand rubs soothing circles against your back.
You don’t see it, but Steve can clearly see Eddie’s other hand sink to his own crotch, softly pressing against the hard tent beneath his jeans. You moan, pushing forward as far as you comfortably can, shuffling on your knees as you begin to bob your head up and down the length.
“How’s she feel, Harrington?” Eddie asks, gaze flickering up to the other curly-haired boy. “Fuck— good, she’s really good… i’m gonna cum, pull off.”
Your wide eyes flicker up to Steve’s face, watching as his features twist in pleasure. Eddie gently tugs your hair, silently ordering you to pull off of Steve’s dick. You release him from your mouth with a sinful pop, continuing your slow strokes as you look at Eddie, chest heaving in excitement and lack of air.
“I-I wanna taste.” You admit. Steve curses, a curled fist rising to his forehead as he tries to ground himself from the words you’ve just said. Eddie smirks, “Yeah? Wanna give it a try, princess?”
You nod and he chuckles, “Go ahead, before Stevie passes out.”
Steve curses at Eddie and you giggle and happily resume your activity. As you continue sucking Steve off, Eddie sneaks a hand in between you and Steve, gently grasping Steve’s tight balls. Steve moans, gaze snapping towards Eddie’s to see him smirking, “Come on, Harrington, you gonna keep our girl waiting?”
And Steve sure as hell isn’t, he’s blowing his load the second Eddie asks, moaning and cursing as he empties himself into the wet heat of your mouth.
You take as much as you can before you pull away, sputtering for air and coughing at what little cum you’d choked on and Eddie softly laugh, rubbing soothing circles across your back as Steve strokes himself off for the last few ropes of cum left in him.
“Did… was that any good?” You ask, wide eyes darting between the two boys. Steve scoffs out a laugh, “Yeah, sweetheart, that was fucking insane.”
You giggle in excitement and Eddie smiles. Steve stokes his sensitive cock once and moans before nodding at the two of you, “Now, why don’t you show Eddie what you learned, hm?”
#THIS WAS LONGER THAN I THOUGHT SORRY I WAS GOING FERAL#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie x reader#drabble#stranger things fanfic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson smut#steve x eddie#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#best friend!eddie#best friend!steve#steddie#steddie x reader#steddie smut#steddie x reader smut
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D is for Diana
summary: you overhear spencer calling his mother and telling her about you. how hes finally found someone like him and who can understand him
word count: 675
warnings: none, just fluff and spencer crushing
It was a normal Monday morning. The sounds of files rustling and pens against paper filled the room as people filled out their weekly paperwork. The only thing off was the slow speed the certified genius across from you was working. There was something on his mind, but from the look on his face, you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to share.
“Hey Spence, I’m gonna go make some coffee in a little bit, do you want some?” You asked, trying to find a way of cheering him up without trying to pry at him.
“I’m good, thank you though.” He said without so much as looking up from his desk.
You let him work for a little longer, before you finally let it get the best of you, and you just had to ask him. “Okay, Spencer,” you said, finally getting him to look up at you for the first time this morning. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he responded. “I’m just waiting on a phone call from my mom.”
That made sense. Spencer always got nervous when his mother was brought up. His phone rang moments later, seemingly right on cue. “I’m gonna take this in the conference room, I’ll be back.”
Spencer opened his phone as he stood up, greeting his mother with a warm “hello.” He quickly ran up the stairs, nearly hitting himself with the conference room door as he entered. You giggled to yourself before getting up and making your way to the kitchen to make the coffee you’d thought about earlier.
_____
With a freshly made cup of coffee in your hand, you couldn’t help but follow your unconscious lead to the conference room, leaning against the door to make sure Spencer’s conversation with his mom was going well. You weren’t trying to be weird or creepy, you just were trying to look out for your friend. You knew sometimes his mom said things that hurt him, mostly without realizing it.
As you reached the conference, you heard the squeaky giggle you’ve heard so many times come from behind the door. You almost left it at that, but curiosity got the best of you as you leaned your ear against the wooden door.
“No, mom. She’s perfect,” you heard Spencer say. “Everything about her is perfect.”
There was a pause, Diana was talking. You wondered who he was talking about. Spencer hadn’t talked to you about a special lady before. Maybe you’d stick around a little longer.
Spencer began to speak again. “No, she is the nicest person I’ve ever met. She’s gorgeous too, mom… No, I haven't asked her out… No, no she doesn’t have a boyfriend… I just don’t want to ruin our friendship. And I don’t want to make work awkward if she says no.”
Work? The girl he liked was at work?
“I can’t just ignore her if she says no mom. Our desks are right across from each other. I’d have to face her every day.”
Oh my god. He was talking about you. Your face turned a shade of red so dark it might be classified as maroon. Your stomach had so many butterflies it felt like it was migration season.
You heard Spencer begin to tell his mom he’d have to be going soon, and you decided you’d better hurry back to your desk so he didn’t know you were listening. He’d die if he knew, you thought.
You thought for a second, before returning to the kitchen and pouring another cup of coffee in Spencer’s favorite mug. You knew he’d said no, but you also knew, especially now, how much it’d mean to him if he came back to a warm cup of coffee on his desk. You add 5 sugar packets to the small mug, just how he liked it.
You returned to your desk, sitting your mug on your desk and Spencer’s on his. You grabbed a sticky note and a pen and wrote: "For Spence <3,”before sticking it to the mug and returning to your seat.
next chapter: E is for Even Guys Like Me?
a/n: i'm so glad that this group of stories has been so well received :) i've worked so hard on them, and am trying my best to get ahead so i can release new parts at least every other day. i love reading all the comments you guys have left too... thank you all for the support. i'm so proud of the next chapter, it's definantly my favorite one in the series so far. it's pretty long, but in my own opinion, it's worth it. the chapters are going to start getting more relationship centered, starting next chapter!
taglist: @universallyblizzardlove @ms-ks-world @justlivinginadaydream @dij-ology
#spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x bau!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader
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౨ৎ BEWITCHED
“you bewitch me every damn second you're with me, i try to think straight but I'm falling so badly, i’m coming apart, you wrote me a note, cast a spell on my heart” - laufey (smau)
contains: charlie bushnell x model!reader
description: me looking at my 50 drafts, choosing to ignore them and to do a new fic that i most likely wont finish for another week
requested by: anon 🫣
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yn.ln thank you so much for having me ! ❤️
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user1 WHAT IS CHARLIE DOING THERE?!
↳ yn.ln idk i just randomly found him and now he keeps following me around
↳ iamcharliebushnell ok first of all i do not keep following you around
↳ yn.ln you literally flew with me to the show i was in
↳ iamcharliebushnell that is NOT the point
↳ user8 thats so cute 😖
user2 ugh you are so gorgeous i cantt
user3 yn devours EVERY time 😍😍
syndey_sweeney i lovee youu
↳ yn.ln love u more pooks
walker.scobell why is HE there 😟
↳ iamcharliebushnell what did i do?!!
↳ yn.ln you’ve always done something
↳ walker.scobell ^^^
zendaya 😍😍😍😍
↳ yn.ln ahh love u !
user4 to be yn, or to be with yn?
↳ iamcharliebushnell i pick be with
↳ user4 HELLO?!
↳ user5 WHAT?
↳ yn.ln 😦🫢
↳ user6 WHAT IS HAPPENING?!
↳ aryansimhadri charlie…
↳ user7 u guys r so dramatic
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iamcharliebushnell just working… working hard to please ya 😉
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user1 oh thats so yn
user2 NO BUT LIKE WHATS HAPPENING WITH HIM AND YN?!
↳ user3 REAL LIKE THEY R JUST POSTING PHOTOS OF EACH OVER WITH NO CONTEXT
user4 belieber charlie?!
user10 ok… ignoring the elephant in the room, charlies real cute in those photos 🫣
walker.scobell be so for real charlie
↳ iamcharliebushnell i am “so for real”
yn.ln save that for the dms 🙄
↳ user7 THESE PEOPLE-
↳ iamcharliebushnell my sincerest apology 🧎
user6 is justin beiber real
dior.n.goodjohn this is low even for you
↳ iamcharliebushnell the hate?!
↳ leahsavajeffries its true
user8 wait so are they actually dating?
↳ user6 idk bc like they post each over very suggestively but never actually announced anything?
↳ user9 do they really need to announce anything though… like they are VERY obvious
yn.ln just posted on their story
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yn.ln we are just really good friends 🤷♀️
tagged iamcharliebushnell
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user1 THE GRIP
user2 OH MY GOD?!
dior.n.goodjohn im so shocked! Im so suprised! I never saw this coming!
↳ walker.scobell what a turn of tables!
↳ aryansimhadri i jumped in shock!
↳ leahsavajeffries watch mojo top plot twists!
↳ iamcharliebushnell 😕
user3 we ALL saw this coming lets be honest
↳ user2 STILL?! OMG! GOING CRAZY!!
iamcharliebushnell so quoting justin beiber, and following people around works!
↳ yn.ln oh! thats not-
↳ user4 mans gonna accidentally start a chain of stalkers
user5 OMGG DREAM COUPLE
user6 does anyone know how they actually met eachover?
↳ user7 probs through friends, yn knows like everyone
user8 the only thing shocking about this is how LONG it took them to be official
taglist: @lostinhisworld @lizziesfirstwife @auttumnsayshi @silkenthusiasts @taygrls @kidkrowk @kanojous @niktwazny303 @m00ng4z3r @highfidelities @b0ok-lover @vamplyle
#charlie bushnell x reader#luke castellan x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#social media au#aesthetic#charlie bushnell#in the know#x reader#smau#model!reader
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hello! could you write johnnie guilbert fluff? maybe a scenario where him and fem!reader are spending a day together (filming a video, doing random stuff) just being two people in love and jake and tara tease them and call them a married couple
deaf, mute and blind | j.g.
pairing: johnnie guilbert x fem!reader
summary: you, johnnie and jake are recording a new challenge video.
warnings: use of y/n, bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry but english isn’t my first language)
an: hi, thank you <33 hope you like it!
pictures are from pinterest :)
“Hi guys, it’s me, Tara, and today I’m here with Jake, y/n and Johnnie.” Tara introduced you and you all waved to the camera.
“Hi!” you greeted her viewers.
“Today I’m gonna torture my guests… No, but I wish.” she pouted and you all laughed “Today, my guests will be playing into deaf, mute and blind but…they will have many challenges and quests to do throughout the day. But they main goal is to do shopping and bake me cookies! Any words guys?”
“I hope I get deaf, cause I don’t think I can go much longer with them talking.” you rolled your eyes looking at Jake and your boyfriend.
“Hey!” Johnnie gasped pretending to be offended, placing hand on his chest “That hurt love.”
You only rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that was forcing its way onto your face.
“Alright, so now they will draw sticks and get to know what senses will be taken from them!” Tara showed her viewers three sticks and then she turned to you “Ladies first.”
You took the one in the middle and immediately looked at written words.
“Yeah! I’m deaf today!” You did a little winning dance. Next one choosing stick was Johnnie and he got mute.
“Oh, so I will be blind.” Jake stated “That’s good actually, at least I don’t have to look at your ugly faces.” he smirked and you laughed.
Tara handed you all your things - blindfold for Jake, duck tape for Johnnie and earphones for you.
“Let me also add, that the person who won’t do the most of their mini challenges, has to take a cold shower on the street!” Tara smiled mischievously.
“Is this enough to charge her with domestic abuse?” Jake asked kind of scared.
When everyone was ready Tara started talking to the camera and you could only guess she was explaining to people what you gonna do and not long later Johnnie took your hand to let you know you were going out. You both helped blindfolded Jake to the car and Tara drove you to the nearest store.
She turned on the camera and pointed it at you and Johnnie. You didn’t see anyone talking so you decided to speak “I think Tara already told you guys but we’re making cookies so now we have to find all of the needed ingredients.” you informed and Tara pointed the camera to Johnnie who was gesturing towards some alley. He took your hand and started dragging you there with Tara going behind you but you suddenly stopped, remembering something.
You quickly turned around and jogged to Jake to walk him to Johnnie and Tara. He said something that made Tara laugh and Johnnie’s arms shudder in a silent laugh.
You really started to regret wanting to be deaf one, because not hearing anything yet seeing it, made you frustrated. Also, not hearing Johnnie made you kinda sad. But atleast you listened to your favorite songs.
You all went to grocery alley where Jake gave you his phone so you and Johnnie could find all ingredients for cookies.
Tara was pointing the camera on you all the time and you decided to speak from time to time in case she and Jake weren’t saying anything.
“So we will be doing chocolate chip cookies. Or rather we will be trying to instruct Jake to do it without hurting himself or poisoning us.” you felt a light push on your shoulder and you laughed seeing how Jake was struggling with trying to not miss your form while hitting.
Johnnie swatted Jake’s hand when he tried to hit your shoulder again and side hugged you while looking for flour.
“Johnnie, we need flour for cakes, this one is for bread.” you told him and he gave you a ‘what the hell’ face and you knew that if he could talk and you hear, he would be asking about the difference.
“Alright, I think we got everything.” you stated when you found everything and you all went to cashier’s stands where everyone was looking at you like at idiots, but that wasn’t anything new with Johnnie and Jake.
Tara quickly paid when it was yours turn and you and Johnnie walked Jake to the car.
When you were at home you quickly started to prepare kitchen for your baking.
Suddenly, you felt someone tugging gently at your arm and you saw Johnnie pointing ahead of you. You saw Tara pointing the camera at you all and you took it as a clue to start talking.
“Alright, so now we will be trying to instruct Jake how to make cookie dough, wish us luck!” you smiled sarcastically.
You somehow were cooperating well, Johnnie was showing you the recipe and you were reading it for Jake who then with your and yours boyfriend help were making most of the work.
When cookies were in the oven you didn’t have anything better to do so you sat on the floor in front of the oven and you were just looking at the cookies.
Some time later Johnnie joined you, sitting next to you and placing his head on your shoulder. You hugged him into your side and he gladly snuggled into you, kissing your shoulder.
You sat there for a few minutes, when Tara came to you with a camera and some bowl and told something to Johnnie and then showed you her phone, where she wrote in the notes that now you will be doing random challenges before you could take the cookies out from the oven. It would decide who is the loser of the video.
You all stood in the living room and Tara came to you with the bowl and you took one piece of paper.
“I’ve got ‘activity without your sense’” you read it for them and viewers out loud and then showed the piece of paper to the camera.
Moment later Tara gave you another paper, which turned out to be an instruction what your activity was.
“So I have to call a random contact and try to have normal conversation with that person. That will be hard.” you sighed “Can Johnnie and Jake help me? Like by gesturing?” You looked at Tara and she only nodded.
You looked at the camera and smiled “I’m actually kinda scared that they will gesturing wrong things and I will make a fool of myself.” you laughed and you could see Tara snorting.
Your challenges were done, it wasn’t that bad or at least you were hoping so.
Then you took the cookies out of the oven and tried them when they weren’t hot. They were really good.
“Teamwork makes a dream work, i guess.” you smiled at the camera.
Then you could finally take off the earphones and you were never as grateful for hearing Jake and Johnnie as now.
“God, it’s so good to hear people again. I missed your voice.” you told Johnnie who smiled widely at you and kissed your cheek.
“I’m glad to see again, but I’m scared of how many bruises I’ve got today.” Jake laughed while still trying to get use to the light in the room.
“Alright guys, they made it.” Tara smiled at the camera “I can’t with how cute y/n and Johnnie were today. Literally goals. You were like and old married couple.” she giggled and you smiled.
“So, who’s the loser?” Jake asked after few minutes.
“You Jake.” You laughed “You didn’t do any of your challenges correctly.”
“That’s true.” Tara smirked “You will do your punishment later.”
You stopped recording for some time so Tara could get all of the needed things for Jake’s punishment, so you and Johnnie went to sit on the couch while hugging.
“I really missed your voice today.” you admitted again quietly.
“And I missed talking to you.” he smiled “And kissing you.” he kissed you.
#johnnie guilbert x reader#johnnie guilbert#johnnie#jake webber#tara yummy#tarayummy#sam and colby#snc#colby brock#sam golbach#deaf mute and blind
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