#and if he does and I am just not remembering
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Hey Jade!
I can’t remember if you’ve already written this or not but if not, could you please write bombshell!reader finally joining the BAU? I wanna know how Spencer and everyone else reacted to her finally joining
Thanks lovely :) hope you’re doing well
ty for requesting 💌 fem, 1.3k
The trek from the SCU to the BAU is familiar. If you aren’t being asked to consult, or occasionally brought along on sex crime specific cases, you’ll make any excuse to get there. A broken laptop, an updated reading list, a good cup of coffee. Spencer Reid always provides.
He just doesn’t get it. You think about it every time you see him, but he can’t understand how nice, kind, and pretty he really is, or he wouldn’t be so shy, and he wouldn’t act surprised to have you seeking him out.
He’s sitting now behind his desk with a hand over his mouth. You can tell he’s smiling despite it, a warm light to his brown eyes as you approach.
“Hello,” you say.
“Hi.” He sniffs, curling his hand into a fist under his nose. His smile is a thousand times more obvious as he tries to hide. “You okay?”
“Hotch asked me to come. You don’t know what it’s for?”
His smile finally softens before fading to a more neutral expression. “I have no idea.”
You wipe your hands down over your hips. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine, and not at all like last time.” Hotch has never been angry with you before. It was strange. “I hope he still likes me.”
“What are you talking about? Of course he does.”
“What am I talking about?” You agree. “Kiss for luck?”
“Pucker up,” Morgan says, a coffee cup in hand. Without coffee you’re sure this office would cease to function.
You shoot him a smile, Spencer a promising look to return, and start up the stairs to the office. You watch your shoes on each step, their shiny black, and you try not to be nervous, but Spencer was acting strange and Hotch has enough reason to revisit his anger.
Your best defence is a smile, you decide. If you act like nothing happened, you won’t get another rehashing of your mistakes.
You knock his door. “Hotch? It’s me.”
“Come in, please.”
You turn the handle and feel the weight of the door against your elbow as you enter. Hotch sits behind his desk, as usual, but when you’re a few paces from the desk he stand up, which is unusual.
“How are you?” he asks.
Your eyes widen against your will. “I’m fine. How are you, Hotch? How’s your sweet boy? Did he have fun at little league?”
“Jack’s perfect. I’m good, I need to talk to you about something.”
“I assumed.” You wait. Then, neck growing warm, “If it’s about last time, I'm still so sorry.”
“I’m not going to get angry at you twice for a mistake. But no, that’s not what you’re here for.”
He’s making you nervous. Is this a guessing game? You lean into your nerves and put your arms behind your back, grasping your wrist as you tilt your head ever so slightly to the side. “It’s not about Spencer, is it? I told you, he’s just a friend. A good friend. But I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise my chances.”
“It’s about that.”
You stand straighter. “I do like him,” you confess, which Hotch already knows. Everybody seems to know except for Spencer. It’s not like you’re in love with him, just you could be, maybe. “But I’m really not– I would never do anything–” You start again. “I want this job more than anything. I know I flirt and I make more jokes than I should, but I take the work seriously, I promise. You guys are the most impressive people I know and I might feel like you’re a friend to me, Hotch, but you have to know how much I admire you. I admire Spencer, and I’d never let my feelings impede my professional ability.”
“Y/N, I’m not reprimanding you for anything.”
You swallow awkwardly. “You’re not?”
He raises his eyebrows and turns to his desk. There’s a packet waiting across his outgoings, which he picks up and gives to you. “I need you to fill these in, first and foremost.”
He’s smiling. Why is he smiling?
You peer inside cautiously. Chest suddenly aching, thinking, It isn’t what you want, don’t break your own heart, you pull out the very top sheet from inside. FBI letterhead greets you.
Facilitation of department transfer for Y/N L/N from the Sexual Crimes Unit to the Behavioural Analysis Unit, as requested by Unit Chief Supervisory Special Agent A. Hotchner and approved by Unit Chief S. Peterson.
You lay it on top of the envelope. All the papers whine under your tight hand. “You requested it?” you ask.
“Months ago.”
“And Sandy said yes.”
“Strauss, finally. If you sign them today, Penelope’s promised to expedite your processing, whether that’s fair or not. Your desk is ready.”
“Hotch,” you whisper, not without excitement, but sound hard to summon, “are you serious? You’re not messing with me?”
“You deserve it. You have for a long time.”
You squeeze your eyes closed. For five long seconds, you stand there, and you think about how hard you’ve worked and how badly you’ve wanted this, and how much faith everybody’s had in you the whole time. You’re so thankful. For Hotch, Morgan, and especially for Spencer Reid.
“Don’t get upset,” Hotch says, taking your arm. He gives it a good squeeze. It’s so friendly and kind you consider jumping up to wrap your arms around him, but you restrain yourself.
“Thank you,” you say quietly, pressing the packet to your chest.
“You’re welcome. I didn’t mind fighting for you.”
“I need to go and tell Spencer.”
“Spencer, your good friend.”
Your laugh comes in fractures from a sudden deep breath. “My good friend,” you agree. “Hotch, thank you. Thank you, I’m gonna go tell Spencer. I’ll be right back.”
“It’s fine. Just make sure you finish those forms before lunch.”
You leave with some dignity. You close Hotch’s office door, and you walk to the balcony and look down at Spencer where he’s waiting for you. His hair falls against his neck, his head angled up, and he’s smiling so hard he must’ve already known what you were summoned into the office for.
You rush down the stairs. He, in all his loveliness, stands in time to open his arms. “I can’t believe it,” you say, your laugh like a ring as you lean against him. He holds you tight and hugs right back, forcing you to bend under his weight. “Spencer.”
He pulls away just as quickly. “Tell me,” he says.
“I’m gonna be part of the BAU.” It’s so insane to finally say aloud.
Spencer looks extremely, achingly happy for you, but his second hug still surprises you. Your nose ends up pressed to his hair, strands of it falling from behind his ear as his palm cups your shoulder.
You close your eyes. Spencer laughs, his lips a hair's width from your cheek.
Your excitement grows too much. You squirm away from him and wrap your hands around yourself, holding in a girlish, giggly squeal. “I did it. I can’t believe I did it.”
He takes your hand. You barely notice. “Why can’t you believe that? You’re amazing. You work hard and you didn’t give up.”
Morgan returns from wherever he’s been with Emily and Garcia in tow. “There she is!” he says.
It’s possibly the best round of hugs you’ve ever had in your life. The little congratulations cupcake they present you with is the sweetest you’ve ever tasted. Spencer puts a makeshift name tag on your desk and you don’t bother pretending your eyes haven’t filled with tears, but nobody cares or minds.
#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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𝝑𝝔 an: i don’t really like this much :( im feeling so sick ngl reader is me i am reader, just need me a boyfie like sukuna here :((( anyways, i posted this because i felt the pressure to do it sk bare with me please!! i love you all <33 read more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here!!
so you’ve been silent through the whole day, which has been bothering sukuna whenever he was reminded of it. nervously checking his phone at practice every chance he got, which got his teammates interested in whatever the hell happened that got him so invested in his phone(only toji tbh). his mind being focused on you instead of the upcoming game which reflected greatly on his practice and made everyone worried.
sukuna just waved them off and continued calling you with no results and texting you, which also got him nowhere. so of course, he decided to check on you after being done with university.
no one answers your door, radio silence, which leads sukuna to taking out the poorly hidden spare keys from under the fake plant and going in, still uninvited but determined to find you. he calls your name a few times, walking around the rooms with a frown on his face. the sight that greets him when he enters your room is even more confusing than your silence throughout the day.
a big pile of blankets on your bed. the longer he stares at it the clearer he can see the faint movement of it — slowly up and slowly down, up and down. he approaches it, looking over only to find a tuft of your hair peeking out from under it.
“what the hell..?” he mutters under his nose while his hands tug down the blanket to reveal your face.
even in your sleep you manage to frown and you only do that when you’re not feeling well, so sukuna leans in closer, sensing the heat radiating from you, and touches your forehead with his lips, eyes widening at how hot you feel. “the fuck happened to you?”
you blink sleepily before opening your eyes and looking up at him for a few seconds. sukuna sits down by your side, hands caressing your face gently as he inspects your condition quickly, “what’s up, loser?”
you say his name, yet he can barely hear it before you start coughing and turn away from him. he can see your face scrunch in pain; his heart squeezes in his chest when you lie back and this time your lips wobble slightly as you mouth his name, barely audible, “‘kuna~ think ‘m sick~”
“yea, no shit.” he rolls his eyes with no real annoyance in them. “let’s make you feel better, yeah, baby?”
you nuzzle into his palm and he smiles gently at you… until you unintentionally sneeze right into it, leaving slimy boogers and gross spit, and sukuna’s eye twitches as he tries to contain his curses.
of course, first thing sukuna does — calls his older brother jin, because the former doesn’t even remember the last time he got sick and jin always knows what to do, especially in a situation like this since little yuuji hasn’t developed the best immune system yet.
“are you sure you can take care of her properly?” jin asks worriedly from the other end of the line, causing sukuna to roll his eyes.
“have some faith in me, will you?” jin only sighs, barely listening to him as he writes down the list of various medicine and things he must buy to make you feel better. yet, he still catches his younger brother’s almost incoherent mumbling. “i can take care of her like no other.”
“then do just that.”
sukuna hums and presses end call, continuing to look through your kitchen cabinet full of different medicines in hopes of finding whatever the hell jin sent him.
you’re not a very obedient person when you’re sick though, he notices. sukuna can tell you’re still a bit hazed from the high body temperature and trying to sleep it off without any care, yet the sickness makes you more stubborn than ever.
and he can’t find it in himself to push you around when your body is hurting and muscles are sore from spasming in an attempt to warm up. so he just lets you sit on the chair in the kitchen, wrapped tightly in your blanket, dazedly watching him make you some soup.
he feeds you the soup himself, too, agreeing a little begrudgingly of course. you whine a bit with that pitiful broken voice of yours and he just gives in because your eyes are watery and your lips wobble, and he is just a weak man around you. don’t judge him!
sukuna is so caring, though, it makes you fall in love with him all over again. he’s a bit clumsy when it comes to cooking you stuff and making you curing beverages; rough around his the edges about his timing and maybe a little too annoyed with your childish antics, yet never showing it directly like he usually does.
watching your favourite movies and shows with you, when he’d usually just shit on your taste and choose something of his own(which you also eventually like, but nonetheless get angry at him). getting invested in them too — just so he can entertain you afterwards and take your mind off of your ill state.
not commenting on your messy state; sweaty hair sticking to your forehead, complains about cold when changing your equally sweaty shirts to clean ones, whines about the tea being too hot or the syrup being too gross(okay, that one kinda angers him he just shoves the spoon in your mouth to make you drink it since you wouldn’t do it yourself).
he also sleeps with you later that night, ignoring your warnings about him getting sick too :(( holds you tight, shares his body heat and wakes up every now and then to check if you’ve sweated any more.
needless to say, you feel a lot better the next morning!! all thanks to sukuna.
(also he gets sick a day after, but don’t ask about that pls heh).
#— miya writes!#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen x you#sukuna x you#sukuna smut#cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader#jjk sukuna#sukuna jujutsu kaisen#sukuna ryomen#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#sukuna ryomen fluff#ryomen sukuna x you
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MOOTS🥹 I am here to request🙏 Can I request a Joost Klein x reader enemies to lovers? Just a classic trope🤭
You ask and I deliver, my liege.
Dunno if it's enough lovers, if you would like me to elaborate in part two lemme know, I'm open to continuing this story!
Big, big kisses for my first request, too! Love ya!
And he did | Joost Klein x fem!reader
Summary: ‘They disqualified you?’ she demanded, pressing her back to the door. She has never seen him in this new, raw edition. Never experienced this boy who sniffled and laughed hoarsely.
‘Mm-hm, must make you a very happy woman, doesn’t it?’
Word count: 1011 (in half an hour no less, I'm crazy for him)
WARNINGS: some swearing, nothing explicit
Author's note: there is no use of Y/N, but the reader is referred to as "she" and is mentioned to wear a dress. I haven't yet mastered the ability to write those in a gn way, but gimme some time and I'll try to do better!
The corridors were lively as ever, curving and suddenly ending, loads of people walking around them and talking excitedly amongst each other. It was an important night, one that would be remembered by many for years and years to come. Everyone was ready, adrenaline pumping through their veins, silly and/or sexy costumes on, game-faces on. It was show-time.
‘For Christ’s sake, let’s just get it over with!’ someone exclaimed from the side but she paid them no mind. She was walking hurriedly, her steps loud and heavy, chest raising rapidly, as if she has just run for hour hours on end. But she hasn’t, no, that was actually more exhausting.
Rage. The pure rage that was born in her veins, surging through her system, flushing out every other emotion ever known to her. Rage that was born ages ago, eons before.
Finally having reached her destination she pushed the heavy door to a dim-lit room, a certain name and surname decorating it. “Joost Klein” it read, a dorky-looking cutout of his face hanging right next to it. He must have done it himself. Yeah, that would make perfect sense, actually.
She opened the door and right away closed it behind her, looking at the scene in front of her. Here he was, in his European-Union-Blue, his jacket laying on the floor, discarded in a hurry, looking sad when it only ever brought joy to people. And next to it, on a plush sofa, wrapped in a blanket and with a teacup in hand, sat him. The reason for her rage, the man who made her see red.
He got startled at her entrance, the liquid sloshing in his cup and burning his hand. He hissed in pain and a grimace made its way on his face. A, objectively speaking, handsome face with a frown etched onto it, brows furrowed, eyes red.
‘They disqualified you?’ she demanded, pressing her back to the door. She has never seen him in this new, raw edition. Never experienced this boy who sniffled and laughed hoarsely.
‘Mm-hm, must make you a very happy woman, doesn’t it?’ the man replied, his voice thick with emotion, trying to act like it wasn’t. Like it was just him, the goofy guy with jokes and anecdotes up his sleeves.
‘Like hell it does!’ she protested. It was hot in the room, so hot and heavy, the silence after her words suffocating them both. He slowly raised his head, turning around to look at her. He tilted his head to the side, silently posing a question. ‘I don’t like injustice, Joost, you know it.’
And it was true. She hated when she or others were getting fucked over, lied to, when bad things happened to good people, essentially.
The rage was still there, it’s quiet bonfire still burning brightly, albeit a little dimmer, just a tad. She didn’t hear any ringing in her head anymore, just the labored breathing of him and her. Of them.
And isn’t that funny? The both of them sitting in one room, eyeing one another and not saying a word. After all, it was more than usual for them to get into catfights, sneer at one another, jokingly (or not) tease. It has been like it forever, really, ever since they met at this one festival at the beginning of both of their career. It has been like that ever since he spilled his drink on her stage costume and then laughed, not sparing her another glance.
Ever since they continued to meet on other festivals, her shooting daggers at his and his friends’ careless behavior, him sticking his tongue out at her and walking away.
Ever since she tripped over one of the cables and bumped into him, causing him to drop one of the microphones and destroying it. Ever since she fought fiercely to not pay for such mike.
That moment, yes. The rage seemed to be saying, its fingers curling around her heart and clenching, stuffing her full of the need to sneer, to bite back.
But how? How was she supposed to think of this careless teenage boy she met when she, too, was a stupid young girl? How to do it when there he was, curled on himself, dark bags under his eyes, the sleeves of his shirt uncuffed and crumpled, as if he squeezed them in his hands too much. A skipping rope laid somewhere in the mess of the room, discarded just like his jacket.
And so the silence continued while the room got colder and colder, her face softer and his eyes glassier.
‘Fuck the EBU’ she muttered, walking closer to him. She approached the sofa, took a deep breath and sat next to him. The man followed her every move with his eyes, a glint of something making them shine. Or maybe it was just the unshed tears.
‘Yeah’ he rasped. Joost shook his blonde hair, as if he were a dog, as if shaking off the sadness. He slapped a goofy looking grin on his face and wiggled his brows at her. ‘You worried or something?’ he teased, nudging her with his elbow.
And that did it. In the speed of lightning she lounged herself at him and engulfed him in a hug. The kind that breaks bones and any internal barricades you may have. She put her chin on his head and waited.
To give credit where credit’s due, he reacted instantly. He snaked his arms around her body, resting his forehead on her chest and taking a deep, shaky breath.
‘You would’ve won this’ she whispered gently, stroking his hair. The rage was gone, the hot hot feeling fleeting the moment she saw his fake smile. Instead another kind of warmth bloomed in her chest, shaking her to her core. And he didn’t seem to fare any better, his shoulders slumping and fingers curling around the fabric of her dress.
‘You’re okay, it’s gonna be fine’ she mumbled into his hair, stroking his back in soothing circles. ‘Breathe, Joost, just breathe’.
And he did.
#joost klein#europapa#eurovision 2024#joost klein x you#joost klein x reader#justice for joost#joostice#eurovision song contest
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four — just a little
mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader
⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to.
when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.
previous — masterlist — next
word count. 1.8k
content. profanity, alcohol consumption, a lil bit of tension???
booger: r u up?
It’s 4 AM and you should not, in fact, be up. But you are. And apparently so is Sukuna.
You contemplate ignoring him. You can get back to him in the morning and act all high and mighty like, “I’m a proper human being with a life, so no, I don’t stay up until 4 AM like you, loser.” It’s not like anything good has ever come from you replying to his late-night/early-morning texts. You recall another time you replied to him at this hour; the two of you ended up almost getting arrested after sneaking into a reservoir.
Alas, you’re still up and you’ve been rotting your brain on your phone for hours, so your better judgment has gone the way of your last few brain cells.
you: what do u want
You watch as he types something. “Damn, so hostile,” probably. He deletes it. Then, he types again. “Why are you up?” maybe. Deletes it. Then, “Wanna fuck?” before he remembers who you are. He types again and actually sends the message this time.
booger: be there in 5
Part of you wants to prank him. Go to sleep and let the poor guy pound on your door until one of your neighbors—probably the grumpy old lady who lives beside you—scolds him and threatens to call security. It’s a good prank. You go as far as thinking about it.
When gets there, he’s got his hood pulled over his head. He’s wearing a pair of sweatpants, black sunglasses, and a serious expression on his face.
“Damn, you look so cool,” you say. He cracks a grin and you crack up. “What the fuck are you doing? You look ridiculous.”
His face falls into a frown as he steps into your apartment, closing the door behind him. You’ve already left him behind, crashing onto your couch as he changes his shoes into one of the slippers you keep for him by your door.
“You’re a real bitch, you know,” he says. He sheds the sunglasses and pulls his hood away. You’ve ruined the whole vibe he was going for. “Aren’t you gonna offer me a drink or something?”
You lift your head and point at the console table by the door. “There’s a bottle of Cuervo there,” you tell him. “Get it for me.”
He huffs but does as you say anyway. He picks the bottle up and walks over to you, sitting on the floor in front of the couch. “You’re a shitty host,” he says as he opens the bottle.
“You’re an intruder,” you say, snatching the bottle away from him before he takes a sip. You raise it to your lips to take a swig. “Why are you here?”
“Am I not allowed to see my girlfriend?”
You choke on the tequila. “What?” You cough as he laughs and pats your back. “Don’t say shit like that.”
He grabs the bottle from you and chugs a good amount. “I love teasing you,” he says, pinching your cheek. “It’s so easy.”
You slap his hand away and sit up. “I hate you.”
He just grins and passes you the bottle. “You love me,” he chirps. “Wouldn’t put up with me otherwise.”
“Haven’t you heard? Everyone’s saying I’m incapable of love.”
You don’t know why you say that. It’s not part of the script, the usual back and forth between the two of you. For a moment, you worry that you’ve said something wrong.
“Who says that?” He looks serious now. Like he’s about to beat someone up. You know, the usual. What were you even worried about? “You got a gun for me to use on them?”
You laugh at his dour expression. It’s true, of course, that people have been spreading this new rumor that you’re a cold, ruthless bitch who doesn’t have room in her heart for someone, let alone a boyfriend. It’s why you broke up with Satoru apparently. You know it’s stupid and people don’t really know what they’re talking about, that they’re bored and just making shit up, but for some reason, you can’t shake the thought.
What if they’re right?
You put the Cuervo on the floor beside Sukuna and hug a throw pillow to your chest. “I had a dream.”
“Is this where you break into song?”
You roll your eyes at him. “I’m not talking to you anymore.”
He doesn’t take the challenge lightly, immediately hopping onto the couch beside you and dropping his head onto your lap to stare up at you. He bats his lashes at you and says, “What did you dream about?”
You place your hand on his face. Then, you feel something wet on your palm.
His fucking tongue.
“You’re so gross,” you whine, wiping your hand on his hoodie. “What do girls even see in you?”
He smirks. You’ve just given him an opportunity and you wholly regret it now. “It’s not so much what they see, but how big it is,” he says, amused by the disgusted face you make. He pokes your cheek with his finger now. “Tell me about your dream.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No.”
He pouts, his lower lip jutting out as he looks at you with big eyes, practically getting teary-eyed now. He’s a great actor, you’ll give him that. He’d probably get better grades if he was a theater major.
“I wanna know,” he says softly. “Tell me.”
There’s something about the way he looks at you that feels unnervingly familiar. You’re used to his antics, you’ve had to deal with them since the two of you were in high school, but it’s moments like this that you remember just how much you know each other. It’s a constant thing, always lurking beneath your banter and jokes—it just surprises you when it’s in your face.
You place your hand on his shoulder and sigh. “It’s stupid,” you say. “I just keep having these dreams where I’m running from something. Different things every time. Zombies, ghosts, clowns—”
“You run away from clowns?”
“Clowns with murderous intentions.”
“Okay. Valid.”
You shake your head, smiling now as the teasing reminds you of who you’re talking to. It’s just Sukuna.
“Anyway,” you say as you stare off into your empty living room. “I just… run. And I get to a point where I feel safe until I realize that I’ve actually been cornered. I wake up before anything happens.”
When you look at him again, his brows are furrowed, already in deep thought. He considers your dream carefully. You wonder if he’ll crack another joke, change the tone of the conversation, but of course he doesn’t.
“What do you think it means?”
You squeeze the throw pillow beside you. “I don’t know,” you say. “I should probably ask Nobara. Psych majors know all about that shit, right?”
He nods. “Yeah, they got that Freud dude.”
“I’m not sure that Freud dude is necessarily accurate about dreams.”
“You never know until you try.”
The two of you are quiet for a moment. You can hear the air conditioner buzz, the fridge rumble. You’ve gotten used to these sounds of silence, what with you being more alone than you’ve been in a while. This time though, you can hear Sukuna’s breathing. Quiet, but steady, a reminder that you’re not completely alone this time.
“Is that why you’re still up?” he asks eventually. “You can’t sleep?”
“You’re making fun of me.”
“I’m not.” Earnest. Sincere. “I just wanted to know.”
You look at him skeptically, but he just stares up at you from his place on your lap, blinking in the light of your living room.
“I mean, it’s not just the dreams,” you tell him. “I’ve been feeling a little lonely, you know. Since… Satoru.”
He cringes at the name but schools his expression before it turns into a full on snarl. “Still don’t know what you saw in that guy.”
“He was good to me,” you say. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“He must’ve if you broke up with him.”
You hesitate, but you find it in yourself to insist, “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
Sukuna stands up. “If you say so,” he says. He reaches his hand out in front of you. “Come on. You gotta sleep.”
You stare at his hand. “You don’t think you’re taking me to bed, do you?”
“I am taking you to bed.”
He stays there for a moment, watching you watch his hand, unmoving. “I’m not getting in bed with you. Chill, bro.”
A beat.
“It’s not that,” you say, taking his hand and letting him pull you up. “It’s just…”
He raises a brow. “What?”
Yeah. What?
“Nothing,” you whisper. This is stupid. “You can sleep beside me. It’s fine.”
It’s his turn to be taken aback. Suddenly, he thinks that your hand being in his feels terribly comfortable. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say, pulling your hand away. You pad over to your bedroom, walking straight ahead without looking back. Pretending like you don’t care if he follows. “We’ve slept in the same bed before. It’s no big deal.”
But it is. Somehow, you feel like it is.
You’re already under your blanket when he follows you into the room. He stands at the foot of the bed a little awkwardly. Like a lost puppy.
“When was the last time you slept in the same bed as a girl you didn’t fuck?”
He’s sheepish now, stripped of all his usual brazen demeanor. “A long time.”
His hand reaches for the hem of his hoodie.
“What are you doing?” you ask, eyes wide. “This isn’t—”
“Relax,” he says, pulling the hoodie off his head. He’s wearing a t-shirt underneath. Plain red, one you’ve probably seen more times than you can count. “I just run warm is all.”
You feel your face heat up. What did you think he was doing?
Your best friend slides into bed beside you. This isn’t anything strange for the two of you. You used to sleep over at each other’s houses back when you were in high school and one of you wanted to avoid the chaos of your home. You’ve slept beside each other before. It was never a thing.
But it’s been a while since then. You’re no longer the kids you were, all playful and shameless.
It feels different this time. Somehow.
He’s keeping his distance and you can feel it. Your body is turned away from him, but you can feel his eyes on you. He wants to be closer to you.
You want to be closer to him too.
“You can—”
His chest hits your back as he rolls over to lie directly behind you. “Is this okay?” he asks quietly. You can feel his breath on your neck.
You swallow. “Yeah, it’s okay.”
You feel his hand carefully move around your waist. He doesn’t touch you, his arm hovering just above the thin fabric of your top. “Is this—”
“Yeah.”
He rests his arm on your waist and you feel yourself relax into his touch. He wasn’t lying when he said he runs hot, it feels like you’re melting against a furnace. Still, somehow, you can’t find it in yourself to mind.
If anything, you might just admit that you like it. Maybe. Just a little.
notes. soooo the besties are doing a thing 👀 how do we feel about reader and sukuna so far 👀 we also haven't seen much of gojo yet but next chapter is gonna be interesting ;)
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GUTS Tour
Oscar piastri x singer!reader
Face claim Olivia Rodrigo
Summary Oscar reacts to his girlfriend tour.
Warning Guts tour(not really but Iykyk)
A/N really like it. I hope it does well. Hope y’all enjoy it! The YouTube video and the insta story took really long to make so pls show some love and say what you think!
Also I just reread it, and there are quite some spelling mistakes. Sorry for anyone that is bothered by it, but I can’t change it anymore because that takes a lot of time and I don’t have that. I ado don’t really know what to thing about the YouTube video cause I made it in 2 hours so for me the different parts where more spread out but now I look back it looks a bit weird. But Lmk what you think!
Don’t forget to repost and comment! It helps a lot! Also feedback is appreciated!
Instagram
Liked by SabrinaCarpenter and 5.737.826 others
Yourusername thank you so for all the great support! I had a great time on my first few shows, hope to see you al soon!
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SabrinaCarpenter So gorgeous!
Conangray Love the show!
Oscarpiastri 😍❤️
User1 not her friends and bf simping in the comments
User2 so exited to see you in Europe!
User3 so happy I got to see you!
User4 SO PROUD!
User5 I can still remember the little girl on bizarfark and now she is doing a world tour😢 the little artist is really growing up!
User6 💜💜
User7 mother
User8 we need Oscar’s reaction to the obsessed performance and the ✨parts✨ of the show
User9 OMG SO TRUE
User10 in love with you
User11 IM SO EXITED TO GO TO THE GUTS TOUR (I don’t have tickets)
User12 love the difference between SOUR and GUTS tour, she really isn’t a teenager anymore
User13 ur an icon
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Twitter
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YouTube
Comments
User1 HAHAHA OSCAR REACTION TO THE PARTS
User2 I love that y/f/n SHQ and McLaren worked together for this! Great video!
User3 He listed!
User4 not him stuttering😂
User5 the people laughing at him behind the camera😂
User6 I love how he makes sure to mention that he knew things beforehand and that she asked him for advice
User7 HAHA not him suddenly being full GenZ for y/n😂
User8 HAHA him saying that she does that a lot is the highlight of this video!
User9 someone should count how many times he said wow🤣
User10 he is such I supportive Boyfriend! I love it!
User11 he’s such a simp!
User12 I love how he says that about the fans and stuff
User13 Great video!
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Instagram
Liked by OscarPiastri and 7.736.836 others
Yourusername He may be a simp, and he may judge my tour, but he is mine🫶 So American is out now! I hope you all enjoy it! (P.S. he finally came to the show, and he ENJOYED it!)
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OscarPiastri Hey don’t expose me!
OscarPiastri And I’m so proud of you! Finally a song that I heard beforehand!
OscarPiastri And I did not judge you and I’m not a simp!
Yourusername Whatever you believe sweetheart!
SabrinaCarpenter Omg love the song! So proud of you! Liked by author
GracieAbrams So happy! Love that you finally released a love song!
Yourusername 💜
TaylorSwift So proud of you! You finally found your lover!
Yourusername Thank you mother🙇♀️💜
Landonorris it was so painful to watch both Oscar filming the video and him watching the show irl😭 he was a simp and speechless with both😭
Yourusername Hey! Look out at what you say! He is my simp!
User1 AAAHHHH NOW SONG!
User2 FIRST LOVE SONG!
User3 they are so cute!
User4 I love them!
User5 AND HE SAYS IM SO AMARICAN!
User6 THEY ARE THE BEST COUPLE ON TEH GRID!
User7 OSCAR IS SO HOT IN TJOSE PICS🥵🥵
User8 I fear I might have fallen in love… with both
User9 do you need a dog? 🐶🐕 I can bark
User10 NEW SONG WOOHOO
User11 I didn’t really like their relationship at first, but now that we get more song I AM SUCH A FAN
User12 UGH THE PUCS ARE SO CUTE
User13 Not her and Lando exposing Oscar
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💜💜
Love you!
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Simp
Sorry that I’m in love
-
GracieAbrams reacted to your story
So cute!
💜
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Taylorswift reacted to your story
so happy for you!
Thank you!
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Landonorris reacted to your story
He is giggling and kicking his feet atm
AWWWWW
#formula 1#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x you#x reader#formula 1 fic#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#lando norris#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#op81 x you#op81 fluff#op81 imagine#op81 x reader#op81 fic#op81#oscar piastri x reader#olivia rodrigo#singer!reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 angst#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 x reader#formula one#taylor swift x f1#f1 fic#f1
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FAWN HEART, PART ONE : The night's desire.
dark!joel miller x f!reader
summary: After a few months of being together, you move in with your boyfriend, 'Adam'. His landlord, Joel Miller, takes a special liking to you.
tags: stalking, spying, mention of abuse, mention of blood, violence, age gap, vulnerable reader, stalker joel, mentions of abusive relationship, pet names, she/her pronouns (let me know if i missed anything.)
ㅤ↪ㅤtokki's ۫ 𐑺 𝚜𝚞ׂ𝚐𝚊𝚛 ࣭ note ˑ ⌕ ࣭ ּ ➭ staring my first series ever !! of course, I will continue it only if this first part does well ( so no spice for now!! ). for now, we're starting off a bit mild, & I'm leaning more on the double storylines . this is short with only 1.5k words, but it's a little gift since i was gone for so long. sorry if it sucks! remember, requests are opened, and your feedback matters the most to me 🐰
【commencing】 : a heart as soft as the embrace of spring. She welcomed everyone with open arms, seeing the best in people, and never turned anyone away, no matter the pain. Her kindness boundlessㅡ she gave without expecting anything in return. But this gentle nature often left her defenseless. she continued to believe in the goodness of others, her fawn heart resilient and unwavering, oblivious to those trampling on it. her fawn heart, her weakness.
「may 04th ㅡ O2:08 AM」
he didn't know her. didn't deserve her. the nerve he had saying he loved her when he doesn't know what love is...he doesn't know what kind of love she needed.
so when he left for work every night, her true love would sneak in. Joel wasn't the romantic type, but for her, he'd do it all. he'd sit there, watching her sleep, staring as her soft lips puffed out when she took her shallow breaths as she slept - how her lashes laid so perfectly onto her cheeks.. that's all he could do - stare. no touching. It killed him. how that asshole could do all that he pleased to her and how she would accept almost nothing in return.
she was sweet. bitterly. her soft, gaze a testament to the trials she's been through. she could've had so much more, yet she chose this moron. Joel couldn't understand why? not just why she chose that - but why everything when it came to her. why? everything about her, she was an enigma. when Joel first set eyes on her, that's all he could think of. why? and how? how could he have lived so long without his angel by his side.
that was 6 months ago. Tonight, it's a little less cold outside- its may, and the summer smell fills the air, as branches sway next to the window in a tireless dance. cars sound in the distance, as late night chatter of the streets fill Joel's ears and her scent his nose. drowning - suffocating him in the anticipation that maybe for one night he'd have her. he never wanted to scare her - to hurt her. she's precious, a porcelain statuette he had to have. Joel was adamant. kissing her only with his gaze, he got up only as the moon kissed the sun goodbye, and the chickadees started their long-awaited song.
「june17th ㅡ O8:42 PM」
late again. he's always late, letting her wait with no sign for hours. it was his birthday, not that Joel cared, but the thin walls provided him with utmost soundㅡ any and all sounds.
she was crying, and he didn't want to budge in making it weird for her, but his heart twisted when he knew she wasted tears on a shit-head like Adam.
but he let his heart get the best of him, and maybe, just maybe, this was the moment when he let his heart dictate, and she finally realizes that she's better than that. better than Adam. Better for Joel. He makes his way to the apartment next door, thinking if he should be honest with her or make up a lame excuse like late payment on utilities or donations for a new front door. He knocked twice, his palms sweaty. This girl made him feel all giddy like a teenager again, heart racing, his dreams full of her. The door cracks open, revealing just half of her red, puffy face with make-up pushed around.
"Y-yesㅡ"
"Hey, there, Iㅡ is everything alright, fawn darling?" his eyes furrow, a weight settling down in his stomach. he couldn't stand seeing her like this. her eyes finally reach his, a glint of gratitude glimmering within them. "hi, Mr.Miller. I'm fine justㅡ" she sighs. "Adam bailed on me.. again!" she tries to laugh it off, wave it as a joke, but the pain in her spirit is apparent. "Sorry if i was, you know... crying too loud. I'll keep it down -"
"fawn...darlin', you know-" Joel's gaze softened "you know you can always come to me if you ever need a shoulder to cry on. As corny as that sounds, 'm all here for ya." looking down at her, he dares not break eye contact.
"Thank you, Mr.Miller.."
"I told you to call me Joel, didn't I?" he tsks, straightening his back. "I feel too old when you call me mister.." Joel admits, in a playful manner. "Got it. Joel." How it rolls off her tongue like honey. how he wants to lick off every drop and indulge into her like the powerful drug she is, so deeply coursing through his being, wishing he'd hear her scream his name underneath him one day. "Right, so- if you ever want anythin'.." he scratches his rough beard. "I'm one door away."
"Thank you, Joel." she steps out barefoot, throwing herself into Joel's arms, hugging him whilst her sweet perfume envelopes them both. Joel breathes inㅡ so close. At last, the hug is broken, and she scurries back inside, leaving Joel stuck in his fantasy.
"My sweet fawn."
「july 3rd ㅡ OO:35 AM」
"Why so hostile, little bird? I thought you liked it when i touched you like this.. a little rough." he rasped, voice scratching at her chest like a knife. "Adam, you're drunk. let's justㅡ get inside." she manages to huff out as her palms lay flat on Adam's chest, pushing him away. "Baby- c'mon, be a doll."
"stop, Adamㅡ stop!" you could hear the frustration in her voice, and the tears that were brimming at the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall.
he couldn't just stand there and witness this. he'd regret it forever, unquestionably. " 's everything alright here?" Joel tries to play it cool. He doesn't want to let off too muc. Hee doesn't want it to escalateㅡ for her to get hurt.
" Mr.Millerㅡ"
"Yeah, none of your business, man. Just leave, okay?" Adam scoffs, staring down the hallway where he heard Joel's voice, thinking to himself,'what this old geezer was doing up so late'. "careful, boy. don't want ya to hurt your pretty lady, ok? just makin' sure everything is -"
"yeah, i fucking said everything is alright, so mind your fucking business, dude!" he spat "Jesus, man." Joel does nothing but smile. Does this Adam guy know what he has gotten himself into? Surely not.
He stretches his neck, making it crack as he takes one step closer to where the couple was. By this time, she was already starting to panic, soft pleads leaving her mouth as that jerk held onto her frame, shaking it up whilst he threw rude remarks towards Joel.
"Let go of her, boy."
"Fuck outta here, old ass. Don't make me come to you, I'm not nice when I'm drunk."
"Oh, I know." Joel promptly comes closer so that only a part of his face is visible by the light of the moon shining through the large window.
"Adam, let's just -"
"Quiet, bitch!" With a swift turn, Adam managed to deliver a harsh backhanded slap to her head, the pounding pain sending her a few steps back, right into the wall. "See, if you weren't here I would've gotten some pussy tonight. But you had to show up." Adam laughs, shaking his hand to recover from the hit. "You a knight in shining armor, or what?"
"You apologize to her, before I rip your fucking legs off and shove them up your sorry ass." Joel was calm. he tried his hardest to not run towards her, embrace her in his tight armsㅡ but he had other plans for now.
"Spare me the threats, old man. one wrong move, and your whole body dislocates." Adam laughs hungrily, shoving joel. or at least attempting. " I don't even know why you care so much. This bitch was onto me the whole night, but when its time to finally get the dick she shys away." he raises his arm again, oblivious to the knife Joel had aimed straight to his jugular, all this time, impatiently thirsting over the thought of Adam's blood gushing onto him. At first Adam is confused, but as he catches a glimpse of Joel's dark grin in the moonlight he finally realizes― he'd been stabbed.
with one palm over his mouth, joel grabs Adam closer, the knife slitting further into his flesh, now reaching his ear.
"You gotta know how to respect your elders, boy." Joel sucks a sharp breath through his teeth, staring deep into Adams eyes as he retracts the knife and promptly shoves it right between his eyes, with enough force that you could hear a faint 'crunch' sound. "ㅡand your lady." In a failed attempt to reach for the girl that was frozen in place, Adams pathetically tries to grab onto her dress as he collapses to the ground.
everything is silent for a moment.
So she stood there, watching as the blood from the splayed body pooled at her feet, the only sounds bouncing off the walls that bathed in darkness were her short breaths and slow steps approaching to where she practically turned to stone.
"'s alright, baby fawn . he can't hurt you no more. i promise."
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal smut#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel x reader#dark!joel miller#dark!joel x reader
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alright, hear me out. i looked through the prompts list and can we give roommate!steve a little airtime beCAUSE—
trying to not hit anything or each other, when there is a power outage and it’s way too dark
— is SO steve coded. i wanna see this man during a power outage. please and thank you. i love you.
hi baby. here you go. sorry it took so long. it is the first thing i have written in about 6 weeks so apologies for it's roughness. i adore you. thank you for helping me give steve Harrington his triumphant return. | fluff, 1.3k, roommates!au
Summer storms in the Midwest always take you by surprise. The never-ending expanse of blue sky becomes crowded with swirling grey clouds without warning and everything stills, like the very fabric of time is holding its breath. Until the dam bursts and rain pounds on your windows, the roof, the pavement with wild abandon. Deep, rumbling thunder follows bright flashes of lightning.
You find it relaxing. A steady, reliable chaos into which you settle without complaint.
Well, usually. Your roommate, Robin -- a talkative and whip-smart girl who makes you laugh-- enjoys storms just as much as you do. It's one of the only times she settles, so you often read side-by-side in companionable silence. Sometimes, if you're feeling bold, you'll both dance in the rain.
But Robin is on some six-month trip for brilliant people and she's left you with a subletter.
"My best friend Steve," she'd said. "Come on, I talk about him all the time. You basically know him."
It's true. Robin is full of stories and this Steve is in most of them. A funny, brave, well-intentioned guy who is a bit of an idiot and has a great head of hair.
And now he's living in the other bedroom. And he's hot. And he always does his dishes and remembers to put the seat down after you scolded him once for doing otherwise and you have a crush on him.
It's annoying. He's been here for like, three weeks and keeps asking you where the spoons are and you like him.
But Steve? You are learning that Steve does not like summer storms.
In the few you've had since he arrived you've noticed that he paces, or sits in the living room with the television turned up high, or something noisy. You've never asked him about it because honestly, he could be much worse as far as roommates go.
You can hear his radio through the wall and it's making it hard to focus on your book. You should really go to sleep but this chapter is really good and does he have to be so loud? Maybe you should get up and ask him to keep it down --
A flash of lightning makes it seem like daylight in your room for a brief moment and then everything is dark. Everything.
"Fuck," you say. The power must have gone out. A clap of thunder so loud it feels like your building shakes startles you. You hear a shout from the other side of the wall.
It's not as hard as you'd expect to feel your way to your bedroom door in the dark. You manage to do so without injury apart from bumping your hip on your dresser.
But when you open your door you smack into a solid wall of warmth. Your fingers grasp for purchase and find none -- only bare skin.
"Jesus Christ --" Steve says. He manages to prevent you both from falling over and holds you at arm's length in the dark. "What are you doing?" His voice is tight and he squeezes your shoulders once before releasing you.
"Uh," you say. You're certain that he's not wearing a shirt. You can feel that he's not wearing a shirt. "The power went out."
He huffs. "Wow, thank you. I had no idea."
You wish it wasn't dark so you could see his face. Three weeks hasn't been enough time to learn all of his expressions. "Were you sleeping?"
It feels like a dumb question considering how loud his music was.
"Yeah," he says. "Obviously I was sleeping. It's like, 1 am."
"Just go back to sleep. If you can, under the volume of your radio."
You imagine him wincing. "Sorry," he says. "I don't, uh. Sleep well during --"
Lighting illuminates the hall and you see him for one brilliant second, messy hair, bare chest rising and falling, boxers slung low. Boxers with...are those...bananas? Then: darkness, thunder. You sense his flinch.
"That," he says flatly.
A smile creeps its way onto your face and you allow it because he can't see. The fact that this guy, your temporary roommate, your sort-of crush, is afraid of thunderstorms fills your chest with warmth. It's endearing. It's adorable. It makes you like him so much more.
You ease past him and into the dark of the rest of the apartment.
"Woah, woah," Steve says. "Where are you going?" You hear him follow you and immediately run into something. He curses. You keep your hands out to avoid the same fate.
"You okay?" you call back.
"Why do we have so much furniture?" he grumbles. "Fuck, that hurt."
You don't correct him that we actually means you and Robin.
"Watch where you're going," you say lightly.
"Oh, ha, ha."
Careful steps take you closer to your destination. "Go look for candles in the kitchen," you tell him. "They're in the drawer by the trash."
"Uh, okay," Steve says. He bumps into things with quiet curses on his way as you look for the matches that should be in the closet. "Why? You could just go back to bed. I'm fine."
You chew on your lip. He's right. But you want to hang out with him. The dark makes you honest. "The thunder is loud," you say. "I won't be able to sleep. We might as well hang out."
He laughs, the first genuine one all night. "Oh, you want to hang out? In the dark? You know what this sounds like, right?"
Ah, the famous Harrington charm Robin has told you about. It makes your cheeks feel hot and you can't hide a smile. Steve ruins the moment by running into something again.
"Fuck! Jesus --"
"Steve, be careful."
"I can't see anything!"
You sigh and finally find the matches. Box in hand, you carefully make your way to the kitchen, your eyes adjusting just a little and making it easier.
Steve is looking in the wrong drawer. You should just tell him so, but instead you reach for him, fingers circling his wrist and dragging it to the right one. His skin is warm under yours, the back of his hand softer than you'd thought it would be. You open the drawer together and hear the candles roll around inside.
His face is a dark outline but you focus on the dark and think you see his eyes. You wish you could see him.
"Found them," he says. You're much closer than you realized, so close you feel his breath on your cheek. Steve leans in -- or maybe it's you, you have no idea, and your noses brush. He puts a hand on your hip, fingers sliding under the hem of your sleep shirt and burning you like a brand.
Your eyes slide close and you miss the flash but not the boom that follows, sending you both about a foot in the air and away from each other.
"Shit," you gasp. Steve laughs and you join in, giggling in the dark like teenagers.
Maybe this is a one-night thing, the darkness making you both a little lonelier and a little braver. But you've got months more of him and the idea of spending that time being something more than just roommates? It's appealing, to say the least.
You reach for Steve in the dark and he must have been doing the same because your fingers tangle without much effort.
"Come on," you say. "Let's light the candles and sit on the couch. I'm sure the power will come back on eventually."
He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. "Okay," he says, a smile in his voice. "Don't let me run into anything."
You grin at him in the dark and hope that come morning he'll be familiar with it in the light, as well. "Don't worry, Steve," you tell him. "I've got you."
thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!
#emmas5kgarden#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harringotn fluff#stranger things fanfic
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🚨 BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA CHAPTER 423 SPOILERS ALERT! 🚨
Class 1-A is always here to cheer their comrade!
I KNEW IT! I knew it was impossible to Bakugou to not helping Deku just once again during this finale! If we saw Uraraka, even if she wasn't able to help Deku but can encouraging him, we need to see Bakugou! And it is the case!
Kurogiri called Aizawa and Yamada by their name. Shirakumo remembers them but he tells them that he has to be by Shigaraki' side. He really devoted himself for Shigaraki.
This help is important but it breaks his friends' heart...
AFO vs OFA!
One last punch! I KNEW IT TOO! Deku and Tenko will be both to end up AFO! Happy to see for the last time, OFA predecessors helping again.
Shigaraki is decayed... he asks Deku to tell to Spinner that he fight until the end. I am gonna cry! Shigaraki disappears!... Does that mean that Tenko will never come back?...
Everything finally end! AFO disappears in ashes. Deku flies in the blue shiny sky! Who will catch him when he is falling?
Bakugou did a lot of amazing jobs to help Deku until the very end, so...
MIDORIYA HISASHI! DO SOMETHING FOR ONCE TO YOUR SON!!!! SHOW YOURSELF!!!! WHERE ARE YOU AFTER ALL THIS TIME?????
Break next week!
#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#midoriya izuku#bakugou katsuki#deku#kacchan#mha spoilers#bnha spoilers#bnha#mha#mha 423#bnha 423#AFO#OFA#AFO vs OFA#shigariki tomura#shimura tenko#class 1a#shigaraki yoichi#kudou#bruce#hikage shinomori#banjo daigoro#en tayutai#shimura nana#aizawa shota#yamada hizashi#oboro shirakumo#kurogiri#spinner
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maybe something sweet and fluffy with woozi. trying to stay late to surprise him with dinner or something but he finds you asleep on the couch. he's been stressed and working more than usual (insane behavior) and you just wanna help him relax and take the weight off his shoulders
pairing: jihoon x gn!reader
genre: est. relationship | fluff, maybe the tiniest bit suggestive
rating: e for everyone (but this blog is still 18+)
word count: 1440
warnings: mentions of food but nothing else
author's note: thank you for sending this! i am painfully late with this (and wanted to wait to finish all the requests before posting). this is for my baby @effortandmore for her birthday drabbles. ily lauren 💕 divider by @cafekitsune
taglist: @crepecakeu, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizoon, @klecksstorys, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @naajaeminsgf, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @harry-the-pottypus, @pyeonghongrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality (strikethrough means can’t tag, check your settings!), join my taglist here
You’ve loved Jihoon for a long time. As a friend first and then slowly as something much more. When you first met him, you thought he was hard to read. Difficult to ever really know. As you spent more time around him, that idea morphed into something else as well. He’s not the kind of person to be vocal about what he’s thinking or feeling. If you’re waiting for him to tell you how he feels, then you’re going to be waiting for a while. Unless you know where to look.
That’s probably why it took you time to realize all the ways he was telling you that you were more than a friend to him. Over time, he started inviting you just to be around him when he was working on projects at home. Or inviting you over to do your own work at his place while he did chores around the house. Slowly, you realized that he always had your favorite snacks in the cupboards and favorite drinks in the fridge. Occasionally you would even mention needing something in passing and it would show up delivered to your house a day or two later. Never with a note, but always with the understanding that it was Jihoon taking care of it. Taking care of you. You realized that your heart shifted to caring about him as more than a friend before your brain even caught up. It was like he had been showing you all along that you could depend on him.
Jihoon isn’t always one to say what he’s feeling, but he likes to hear it from you. It’s cute to watch his face light up when you tell him how much he means to you or why you think about him throughout the day. He’s easy, though, because he’s just as happy to have you around. Sometimes you don’t say anything at all, just curl up on the couch to watch a favorite show. Those are some of your favorites because you know how much space he’s made for you in his home. You know how important that space is to him so that he can recharge. But, he accepts you like you always belonged there with him.
Lately, work has been a little overwhelming for him. Maybe not overwhelming as much as busy. You know how much he likes to be busy and would prefer that to work being too slow. It’s also clear how much he likes to solve a problem and be the one to find that elusive solution. So, this project has been challenging, often resulting in him staying late, and you know he wouldn’t change it. Even on the nights where he doesn’t get home until it’s nearly time for bed.
Tonight, you’re trying to do something a little bit nice for him. It’s been days on end, even some weekends, of him busting his ass on this project. And you don’t understand the words he’s using. Haven’t ever really been tech savvy enough to get programming. What you do know, though, is that he’s been surviving on too much caffeine and food delivery. Sometimes he does listen and order from healthier places. Sometimes it’s all he can do to remember to eat at all, so it’s whatever can get to him fastest. But, he seemed pretty confident that he would be out of work at a decent time tonight. You decide to use your key to his place and let yourself in to surprise him with a great home-cooked meal.
For someone that doesn’t really like cooking that much, Jihoon has a pretty well-stocked kitchen. Although, knowing how considerate he is, that’s probably mostly because you liked to cook at his place and complained about all the things he didn’t have. All you need to do is show up with your ingredients. You decide on a menu of comforting foods that also can either keep warm on the stove or be easily warmed up without losing flavor.
You figure that you should let him know that you’re going to be there when he gets home so it doesn’t surprise him. The food can be the surprise even if he knows you’re there waiting for him. He seems excited to see you when you text him. When the food is all ready, you figure that you can have a glass of wine while you wait.
Jihoon: i’m so sorry, this is taking longer than i thought to wrap up
You: that’s fine, take your time
It’s not uncommon for Jihoon to send a text like that when he’s in the middle of a project. He hates it and you know he does. But, you also assure him that it’s fine. You didn’t have any actual plans and he doesn’t need to rush through work on your account.
While you’re waiting, you decide on a little taste test of the food you made, careful not to make it too obvious that you’ve had some. Not that he would care, you just want the presentation to be nice for Jihoon. With some good food and a glass of wine down, you’re a little sleepy. Cooking can do that to you. There’s no harm, you figure, in getting comfortable on the couch while you wait and putting on some background noise.
You don’t even realize that you drift off until you feel someone’s arms sliding underneath you. Your eyes flitter open and land on Jihoon. He’s got his shaggy hair pulled back into an elastic with strands falling out from the length of the day. His face is soft with nothing more than complete love and adoration. It’s so clear that he doesn’t want to disturb you and that makes your heart constrict further. This man has been working for who knows how many hours and he’s still taking care of you.
“I’m awake, babe,” you say through a slightly groggy voice.
“Sorry, was trying not to wake you up,” he says and pulls his arms back.
You catch one of his hands to pull him back in for a quick kiss. “I’m glad I woke up.”
“The place smells really good,” he comments.
“Yeah, I made dinner,” you say.
His face brightens for a moment and it makes you nearly melt. “I would’ve left sooner if I’d known.”
“It’s a surprise, you goober,” you say with a smile. You pull yourself into a sitting position.
“Hey, it’s fine, I can get a plate,” he says.
“No, no. You go have a nice shower and by the time you’re out, I’ll have it all ready,” you say and get to your feet.
“You don’t have to…” he starts and you press another kiss to his lips before turning him in the direction of the bathroom.
“Go,” you say.
It takes a minute to shake off the cobwebs from your unexpected nap. By the time you’re in the kitchen and warming everything back up, you can hear the water running in the bathroom and the music audible even over the sound of the shower. It sounds like one of his more upbeat playlists, which is a good thing. Even if he doesn’t say much, you can always tell his mood by what playlist he puts on. Tonight, it seems like he’s in a good mood despite the long day at work. Part of you hopes that you surprising him adds to the good mood.
The water shuts off, leaving only the playlist as your background and you know you still have a little bit of time before he emerges. So, it’ll be perfect timing as nearly everything is ready again. You’re putting a plate together when he emerges from his bedroom in gym shorts and a t-shirt, wet hair still falling around his face. The smile on your face is instant.
“What?” he asks.
“You’re just beautiful,” you say, smile still bright.
“I must look exhausted,” he brushes off.
“Still beautiful,” you insist and delight in the way blush creeps up his neck. To save him from saying anything, you hand over a plate.
“Can’t believe you did this,” he mumbles softly.
“I thought you deserved a treat,” you say as you grab your own plate.
“Just having you here is a treat,” he says, unusually sappy with you.
“So you don’t want the rest of the post-dinner treats I planned?” you ask innocently.
“Didn’t say that,” he says, locking eyes with you.
“How early do you have to be in tomorrow?” you ask.
“I have the day off,” he says.
“Don’t get too full, then. I’ve got plenty of surprises for you,” you say.
hope you enjoyed it! let me know 💕
#woozi fluff#jihoon fluff#seventeen fluff#woozi x you#woozi x reader#jihoon x you#jihoon x reader#woozi imagines#woozi drabble#woozi scenarios#jihoon imagines#jihoon scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#seventeen drabbles#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#svt x reader#svt imagines#svt fluff#svt fanfic#seventeen fanfic#svthub#kvanity
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Could you do an Andrew Garfield and Tom Holland body swap
Friendly neighborhood Peter
Andrew P.OV.
We have just finished the last of the promon pictures for our new upcoming movie for Marvel. What a great and nostalgic ride that was. It has been years since I last wore this costume on set and I have to say I miss it. It makes me sad that some stupid conflict many years ago ended our third movie, which could've been amazing.
Tobey has left to meet with Kirsten. Me and Tom were left alone together to chat about our lives. What a great kid, he's so talented. It's hard for me to admit that, but I envy him. The attention is nice, I won't deny that, but I just loved making those movies. I would do anything to trade with him. Does that sound mad? Sorry. Another daydreaming episode. I have to think about my own life again now.
Tom's P.O.V.
I want to stay here and talk to Andrew about acting and working as an actor for the role of Spider-man. I truly do. But I am already nervous about all the paparazzi out there. Recently they have made my life horrible. I haven't had privacy for years. I am proud for the movies and the work we all have put into them, but the other side of this is just exhausting. Andrew says, that I should enjoy it while it last, that fame fades out and the work eventually gets finished. Maybe it's too selfish at this point, but I would like it to end. I would do anything to trade with Andrew and have a kind of life he has.
The two "Peter Parkers" had no idea what it meant for them that night. Just a stupid simple wish at the back of their head. Well, someone is lucky today.
Tom's P.O.V.
Either this is a very bizarre dream or someone did a very elaborate prank on me. I am looking at Andrew. But I am looking in the mirror, where usually my reflection stares back at me. How is this even possible?
I calm down and after a while I get out of bed. I am in Andrew's apartement. His place looks nice, neat, surprisingly. I take off a shirt and put it on. While sliding it on my new torso. I notice my new biceps. Damn, Andrew, you're not so bad. I thought you gave up body-building. But this is quite nice.
The exploring didn't stop there. I dropped my or (Andrew's?) boxers to get a nice view. I was welcomed by a hairy co 7 inch long dick. Not bad again Andrew. I started to jerk it. While enjoying the body of a 40 year old in a great shape, some woman came into the room and with no expression just said:"If you wanna come to the premiere you gotta speed up and get dressed. Be ready in 30"
Oh shit. Was that his girlfriend? Or maybe a manager. I don't know what is worse. The indifference or the fact she saw me like this.
I might have some explaining to do when I see Andrew in my body at the premiere.
Andrew's P.O.V.
What was weirder, I didn't recognize my body. I had bigger muscles, lean chest and nice 6 pack. I could even feel the stench of a younger body. Even my skin was visible younger.
I got up from the bed to find out that this body sleeps naked in bed.
I went to the nearest mirror. Holy shit. It's Tom
I was shocked at first, but then I remembered what I thought about last night. Maybe, this is a way from the universe to show me if I truly hate my life or if this is the life for me.
I went back to bed to rest. Well... maybe not rest, but whatever. It's nobody's bussiness how many times I have jerked off Tom's dick. It's also nobody's bussiness to ask how long was I in the shower afterwards and if the scream were of pain or pleasure
Shit. I love Tom's style. His wardrobe is filled with such nice clothes. I don't even know what to pick. Even showing of his abs looks amazingly stylish
Andrew and Tom bumped into each other right in front of the journalists.
"How you feeling man?"
"Young! And the best I have felt in years. Your body was a nice surprise. How are you holding on?"
"Well, I have to say that I can't complain either. I mean, you have a much more calmer life than I do. Wouldn't mind if we had this for a few weeks."
"Oh, I don't think I would mind either. It would be an honor for me to take care of your life Tom"
"Don't call me like that now, TOM! People might think you're on drugs. Haha. And yeah, let's make it a deal. We don't even know how to swap back, but when we do find out we swap back on our own terms. Deal?"
"Deal!"
The two of them embraced each other in a hug and laughed about it
This couldn't have worked out better for the two of them
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Batman Rogues Tumblr AU:
Jervis:
-Joined Tumblr in 2009, has had the same blog all this time
-Has a big follower count, but most of those blogs have long since been abandoned
-Is very active
-No sideblogs, everything from kink to cute animal pics is on the same blog
-Has witnessed or been involved in every single major event in this site's history
-Attended Dashcon (he was the one who pissed in the ball pit)
-Involved in some sort of petty drama on a daily basis
-Has a 20km long post of just going back and fort arguing with some random user. This argument started in 2016 and neither remembers what it even was about. He gets worried if the other person hasn't responded in a while.
-Gets at least 3 callout posts a week. Always makes sure to reblog them and adds an essay underneath defending himself no matter if the callout post was about liking the wrong pony in MLP or murdering someone in cold blood.
-Kinnie drama the likes of which you've never seen before
-And in general just discord you never thought anyone could ever come up with
-At this point you wonder if he's even having fun on this site, but he just keeps on reblogging bunny pics like it's nothing
-Has a Wacom drawing tablet
Jonathan:
-Joined in 2011 after Jervis introduced him to the site
-Has some really tacky theme he hasn't changed since 2013
-About a couple hundred followers, but they are very devoted. Lots of mutuals
-579257405547 blurry photos of Nightmare
-Post fics and essays on various topics he's been thinking about lately
-Of course reblogs every single spoopy art piece he finds
-Definitely does fic request
-The most fucked up smut you've ever read
-Like smut you don't even know is smut, because it's just that confusing
-Most of his post don't get past 50 notes, but he has made a couple of post, mainly of the: ”Here's how you write x, y and z...” and ”As a Professor of Psychology, I can tell you...” variety, that have about 10 000 notes
-Has a chill time on Tumblr
-Only uses Tumblr on desktop. Has never even seen the app.
-Completely unironically reblogs every cool skeleton on a motorcycle pic
Joker:
-Joined in 2013
-The only reason he joined is because he once came across a horny drawing of Batman and searching for the artist led him to Tumblr.
-Starts writing a post, gets distracted mid way though and starts doing something else. Comes back to Tumblr 3 hours later, notices he was making a post, doesn't even bother rereading it despite not remembering what it was about and just hits posts. His blog is full of completely incomprehensible post that just stop mid way through
-Makes a couple post that get so popular they are still making rounds today. They will always have additions like: ”I still can't believe this post was made by the fucking Joker” and ”Joker had a Tumblr?!”
-Forgot his password a month after joining and never visited the site again. Barely remembers he ever had an account
-Those true crime people still harvest his 20-post-pathetic-excuse-for-a-blog-blog for content to this day all the while completely ignoring all the rogues with still active (and better) blogs. They are saying things like: ”Ooohhhh, it's like a deep dive into his twisted mind :00” and are always trying to find some hidden symbolism and meaning behind all his ”just farted so loud it scared the neighbor's cat” kinda posts.
Eddie:
-Joined in 2011
-759752974576 sideblogs, 55425720752174838+1 sockpuppet accounts
-When he's really low he'll post a poll like: ”Be honest, am I cute? Yes/No” and then has his 55425720752174838+1 sockpuppet accounts hit ”Yes” and somehow ”No” still wins. He deletes the whole post.
-Posts the most obvious ”and everybody clapped” Tumblr fake stories you've seen. When he gets called out, he pretends you were supposed to figure out they were fake
-Has an awful time on Tumblr, but can't delete, because he's addicted to getting notes
-Always falls for every one of those post where OP pretends to be stupid on purpose (i.e. smooth sharks, putting fingers in guns etc.)
-Posts riddles everyday that even his biggest haters cannot help but try and solve
-Sends himself hatemail so he can post the witty comeback he just came up with. Forgot to hit anon once and people just won't let it go
Hugo:
-Banned for posting cock :/
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ARTIST OF THE WEEK @merryfinches ♥️
This week's aotw is Kylie who has bewitched us body and soul with her lovely art and even lovelier personality. Always there with a kind word, just all round a stellar human being, and someone who makes my day better anytime I see her on the dash. She was also game for answering a few questions:
Which do you use to draw (app/digital or traditional)?
I use Procreate on my iPad! I like being able to put it on my bag and draw anywhere - I don’t have as much time to draw as I want, so I do it in bits and pieces whenever I get the chance.
I love sketching with coloured pencils in my sketchbook too, I LOVE digital art, but there’s nothing like the texture of pencil and paper!
Fave brushes/pencils/mediums (links/screenshot?)
These are the ones I use most. The top 3 are all standard Procreate brushes. Chalk is my go-to for sketching and line art, and lightbrush and lightpen for highlights. I used Gingerbread Inker for colouring - it’s a free brush I picked up from somewhere, but I can’t find where!
Your favourite piece you've drawn?
Oooooooh, I don’t know! It’s easy to look back at basically every drawing and see the flaws, but this one of Ed and Stede in their inn is special to me, because I think it’s the first time I felt like I’d developed a comfortable style after messing around trying to draw them for months with… varying degrees of success.
And I’m really proud of the comic I drew of Ed having a nightmare, because i find comics so hard to draw and I’m in awe of everyone who does it!
Who's harder to draw: Ed or Stede?
Aaaaah, they both have challenges, but Stede I think? I prefer drawing his left side because of the way his hair swishes differently on both sides, and that side is easier. And he has a very particularly-shaped nose that can be really hard sometimes! Unless I’m drawing Ed’s leathers, in which case it’s him 😆
One essential tip for beginner artists?
There will be a point where you look at all your art so far and think “oh these are terrible, what am I even doing?” But that’s GOOD because it means you’re improving! And I’m sorry but that never stops - you will be improving forever! Nobody I know is ever really satisfied with their own art, and your art style is like your handwriting - it’s unique to you.
Also, get a sketchbook and a pencil, make mistakes, practice drawing your own hands and feet, screenshots, your cat, anything basically. And remember it’s supposed to be fun 🥰
Why OFMD? 🥹
Because it’s the fucking BEST! 😎
No seriously, I guess I like drawing Ed and Stede so much because they’re everything. Love, sex, tenderness, fun, cuteness, heartache and joy. Two souls who are so insecure and alone, and then they have someone who GETS them, who loves everything about them. They’re just wonderful.
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inspired by >this< post from @mellarked-katnisseverdeen
Her father just knows that something is happening.
The way the boy looks at the girl while he is negotiating the price of game meat with the baker. Always pretending like he's doing something else, just to look at her more closely.
Or how Katniss take off the cap and redo her braid every time on they are in thw way to the bakery.
He just knows very well what is happening there, remembers his romance with a merchant girl years ago.
Then, thinking that the boy is intimidated by seeing Katniss always accompanied by her father, he starts sending her alone to sell the squirrels. Then ask "how was on there"
"normal..." Katniss replies with a shrug, without understanding the reason for the question.
And he gives a small smile, which leaves Katniss even more confused. The truth is that that old hunter realizes much earlier than she does that the boy has a crush on his daughter.
And he takes immense pleasure in seeing her slowly realize it too. Watching the two go from acquaintances to friends, and slowly, to lovers.
It's funny because Peeta, that boy raised with good manners, makes a point of talking to Katniss' father after she agrees to date him.
"I'm Peeta Mellark, sir." he says, with a firm voice and a strong handshake. Well, he doesn't really know what he's doing. He's only 17 and she is his first girlfriend, but he's trying to do it right. He doesn't want to ruin everything.
"Oh, yes. Katniss's boyfriend, Am I right?" he says with a wide smile.
"Oh, stop treating me like I'm not here" Katniss crosses her arm in embarrassment. "I feel like a goat for sale in the market"
She prefers it when everything is more relaxed, for example when Peeta comes to dinner with them on a Sunday.
He sits at the Everdeens' table and watches everyone share a bowl of rabbit stew. It's not much, but Katniss's father offered little to Peeta as well. Peeta is so grateful.
It's his first time with a "real family". With love, with communion, with laughter at dinner time.
So he is always invited again, every Sunday. Peeta brings bread and cakes to share too. Brings sweets that Prim always wanted to try, brings yeast that Mrs. Everdeen needs for some medicines, brings cheese buns for Katniss. This causes him some ear tugging and pinching from his mother, but he doesn't even care anymore.
Because every end of the night Katniss' father picks up the guitar and teaches Peeta some old songs. It's funny because he's a terrible and out of tune singer, especially compared to the Everdeens. It makes Katniss and Prim laugh, but Peeta could never feel happier.
Because everyone makes such a great effort to make him feel at home. It's no surprise when Katniss and Peeta get married they move near her family.
It's satisfying for Katniss's father to see Peeta stop calling him 'Sir' and refer to him as a friend, because that's what they become.
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I need to talk about everyone's outfits here. first of all yayyyy they're color coordinating again just like 2x10 with the black outfits!!! ok from left to right
allison: slaying. simple, yes, but hella cute. love the white chelsea boots and turtleneck.
viktor: bro are you chilly? your jacket looks awesome but maybe you need something a little heavier.
five: fuck. his hair really is long. this is happening. he's wearing a suit. ok whatever.
klaus: OH MY GD HIS HAIR DOESN'T LOOK LIKE SHIT?!?!? IT'S GROWN OUT A LITTLE BIT AND LOOKS DECENT?? AM I GONNA BE ABLE TO LOOK AT MY BOY THIS SEASON WITHOUT CRINGING??? YAY!!! other than that what the fuck. where is the flair??? where is the sluttiness?? I'm sorry but those boots are so not klaus hargreeves. and the jacket is BORINGGGGG. remember his s1 patchwork jacket? the 2x10 vest-no-shirt fit?? in season 1 klaus was wearing skirts and boas and bright colorful tank tops and leather pants that laced up the sides and he was just overall a fucking icon. what happened to you??? who did costuming this season I just wanna talk. he would not fucking dress like that.
diego: babygirl pleaseeee you've been thru this already 😭 why are you wearing your s1 fit y'all're supposed to have grown!!
luther: looks like he stepped out of an LL Bean catalogue.
ben: dressing like a 16yo boy. I can't explain it but his outfit just looks immature. then again he is immature.
lila: showed up 15 minutes late with starbucks. did not get the blue and black outfit memo. does not want to be there. wants to go back to sleep. the sweatpants with the uggs and puffy pink jacket are a helluva look. I think it's hilarious to see her in this outfit but she better slay again. I'm not as mad about seeing her not looking like herself, unlike klaus, because it really genuinely looks like she just woke up and didn't have time to get dressed before the abandoned parking lot hargreeves family meeting. but she better not be dressing like this the whole time!!
in conclusion let 👏 them 👏 slay 👏 and I miss them 😭 tua s4 please don't suck please please please please please!!
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'. ݁₊ ⊹ cold lips, cold heart — one
— pairing. hockey player!choso x ice skater!fem!reader
— synopsis. you were one of the most graceful skaters to ever skate in your local arena, competing at a young age— racking up trophies and medals as the years passed. after an accident at your last competition, you find yourself afraid to skate again. your coach decides to ask one of your local hockey team players for help, desperate to get you back on the ice. but out of all the players your coach could’ve picked, it had to be him.
— word count. 3.5k
— contents. enemies to friends (eventual), friends to lovers (eventual), angst, trauma, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentions of injuries, language
— notes. i think hockey players are hot & choso is extremely hot, so put those together and life just feels perfect 🤤 thank you @saradika for the dividers 🤍
main masterlist
How does one find themself in this situation, one so backwards. One so disorienting you wonder if this is merely a dream or the harsh reality. It couldn’t possibly be a moment in your life that needed to happen. You outright refused to believe that this was happening for a reason.
Between the battlegrounds you call your life and the way you were losing your mental strength as every day passed— the ice was the last place you clung to. It was the only place where you could be free. Free of the pain, the agony— of it all.
As you feel the cameras flashing, the blurred outlines of faces and silhouettes crowding you— you realize that you life was about to change. The pit in your stomach only grew in size at the possibility that you may never skate again. What was once a place you could call home, could now just be remembered as a sheet of ice.
Your eyes remained unfocused, staring blankly at your legs covered by a sheet, being wheeled into the back of an ambulance. Voices could be heard from either side of you, although they were unclear. It sounded almost as if they were speaking underwater— you weren’t listening.
It became too much for your eyes to stay open, and you begin to drift off. If only you knew how much your life was about to change.
“Here you go,” You handed the man his extra large coffee with two sugars and two creams. Just like every day. “Enjoy!”
“Thanks darling.” The man sent her a smile, heading outside to his usual spot, in the shade, just a hair out of the sunlight.
You smiled as he walked away. He was such a kind old man, face so gentle— and wrinkly. Still, he was sweet.
“What bullshit!” Your friend Maki hissed, face stuffed in her phone, “They keep making these damn tickets more expensive. Fucking fuckers.”
You slapped a hand to your mouth, trying your hardest not to giggle at her frustrated state.
“C’mon, you don’t really wanna go to a hockey game that bad, do you?”
“Hell no.” She hissed.
“Right, right. You just wanna try and get some big hunky hockey player dick.”
Maki had a proud expression on her face.
“That’s right— and I’m not ashamed.”
You shook your head, letting the giggle escape this time.
“You’re utterly ridiculous.”
“And youuu need to get some hockey dick too. Or just dick period.”
You rolled your eyes, very aware of your dry spell that has been going on for… well. Awhile.
“I am doing just fine actually, thank you very much.”
Maki leaned forward, her glasses perched on the tip of her nose. She was giving you her best really look.
“Honey, I’m all for this independent female attitude you got going on but, let’s be real. You need to be dicked down.”
You made a disgusted face, embarrassed that she was talking so loudly when there were costumers around.
“You might feel a little less stressed once you do,” She told you, “Find some super good dick and all your issues might just vanish.”
“Yeah, wish that was the case.” You were at a whisper by the end, glancing down to the scars that started below your knee and disappeared underneath your shorts.
Maki noticed your stare, her gaze softening.
“Listen, it might be good for you to at least meet someone, y’know? You need to stop moping around and go do something— live a little!”
You pouted, crossing your arms.
“I’m not moping around.”
Maki gave you another look.
“Babe, you’re the epitome of moping around.”
You acted hurt, holding a hand over your heart.
“Damn Maki.”
“I’m serious (Y/n).”
You waved her off, brushing all your joking to the side. Plus, you were only using humor to hide how you were truly feeling— defeated.
“I know, I know.”
“I just wanna see you happy, that’s all. You deserve that after everything you’ve been through.” She told you sweetly.
“I am happy Maki. Life at the coffee shop couldn’t be better.” You tried to convince her. Hell, you couldn’t even convince yourself.
“You need a life outside of work, and one that makes you happy.” She corrected.
You walked past her, nudging her shoulder playfully as you passed.
“On it boss!” You said lastly as you headed for the back. Your shift was ending soon.
You clocked out of work, setting your apron in your work locker before heading towards the bus stop. You had a plan to go home and binge some cringey tv show while stuffing your face with junk food. Yeah, that sounds wonderfu—
“(Y/n)!”
Scratch that.
You turned to see your old coach walking towards you, huge smile on her mature face.
“Hey there Ms. Utahime. What brings you here?”
She furrowed her brows, stopping when she was in front of you. Her look was one that made you wonder if you should know why she was here.
“One, can’t I just come see my favorite person in the world,” She definitely wanted something, “And two, I’m wondering why you aren’t back on the ice?” Yup, there it is.
“I told you coach, I’m not going to be starting up again. Already returned my skates and all my uniforms.”
“Nope. Just had everything returned to your place.”
You gave her a wild look.
“Why would you do that?”
“Because you’re going to be back on the ice soon.”
You sighed, leaning on your left leg to give your right a break.
“Coach, I’m not skating anymore. I’m sorry, I’m just not.” You started, pleading almost with her, “That chapter of my life is completed.”
She gave you a motherly look. Oh god.
“(Y/n) that chapter of your life was just beginning. You were doing so well and I couldn’t have been prouder of you.” You felt a but coming. “But,” Yup. “You aren’t done with what you’ve started, I’m sorry, I won’t let you waste your talent.”
“Coach—”
“Nope. I’m not giving you a choice. You’re gonna be back on the ice and train, because I know for a fact it’s been awhile since you’ve skated— no thanks to you.”
“I get it.” You rolled your eyes.
“I have big plans for you (Y/n), and they match up with your big plans.”
“Maybe that used to be my plan. Grow up to be the best skater there ever was, but after my…”
She waited patiently, watching your mouth open like a fish before closing. You had to gather your thoughts.
“After what happened,” You worded differently, “Things have changed. That girl, it isn’t who I am anymore.”
Coach Utahime sighed, giving her a moment to gather herself before letting her hand rest on my shoulder— in attempt to bring me some comfort.
“Will you at least think about it?”
You gazed into her eyes, her hope filled eyes that had you feeling weak and guilty— almost forcing the words out of your mouth. God, how you missed skating, and you’d do anything to get back to where you were. But it wasn’t that easy.
With a deep breath, you found yourself nodding.
“I’ll think about it.”
Her eyes were beaming, a smile taking over her face as she almost started jumping up and down from excitement.
“Great. I’ll see you soon.” She turned and waved goodbye, heading back to wherever she had come from.
Now it was just you standing at the bus stop, head full of chaos. What were you thinking? You couldn’t skate again, could you?
Like a robot following its coding, you walked onto the bus, sitting down in your usual spot all the way in the back— a window seat of course. You let your elbow rest on the arm of the seat, your palm cradling your chin. The view was pretty. In the sense that you got to admire people as the bus passed by. People didn’t realize how interesting they became when they were so oblivious to the watchers of the world, quirks and habits poking out as people became lost in their own little world.
It was a weird thing to appreciate I guess, but it calmed you.
You wondered how you looked to others that happen to watch you. You wondered if they felt sad, or if they felt embarrassment— for how someone could live such a dull life. Especially when life started so colorful, so lively.
Will you at least think about it?
You grumbled into your palm, annoyance at yourself for caving so easily to Utahime. It wasn’t easy to say no to her. She was the best coach you’ve ever had— the only coach that is. She was also not only a constant on the ice, but she was consistent in your personal life as well. It was odd but endearing.
Your thoughts were interrupted when a figure moved from your left. Glancing over, you watched the man sit on the furthest seat from you— except he was in the same row. The very back. Your section.
The man was facing the window, the view not helping you confirm who he was. The second he turned his head, and you were able to get a glance at his stupidly perfect side profile— you wanted to gag.
Choso Kamo.
You went with a scoff instead.
Choso turned his head towards the noise, his eyes unchanging as he saw you. Without smiling your way or offering any kind of greeting— he simply turned back to face forward. Not paying you any attention.
You narrowed your eyes at him, soon facing the window again— allowing yourself to once again sink into the abyss you called your mind.
Choso Kamo. Where to even start with Choso. It was pretty simple. He was a moody, angsty man who praised himself too high at being one of the best hockey players there was. Because that definitely wasn’t right… right? He had this mysterious aura about him, always keeping to himself. Never one to strike a conversation. To make things even better, the only confrontations you have with him were sour. He was always short and rude. It wasn’t that you wanted to dislike him— you just couldn’t stand him.
It also didn’t help that you used to have a crush on him, y’know, before you met him and then realized you hated him sorta thing.
I mean, who wouldn’t have a crush on him? Despite his shit personality, he was insanely attractive. Bone structure sculpted by the gods themselves. It was quite unfair really, to be gifted with such lethal looks— only to be a dick. Oh yeah, it didn’t help that he played hockey too. Apparently, it made a man 10x hotter when they played hockey. I don’t make the rules.
You snuck another glance at him, wondering what he was doing now. Or if he had gotten off the bus while you were daydreaming about hi— I mean thinking. Thinking about him.
You couldn’t help the pink dust your cheeks, seeing as he was already looking your way. In fact, he was holding your gaze with something unspoken. You instinctively placed a hand on your belly, wishing to stop the butterflies.
Again, like you were invisible, he looked away. Gazing out his own window, not paying you any mind. Again.
You chewed the inside of your lip, still unsure why it had to be him that had your gears grinding. He was a dick, yeah that’s it.
“Do you need something?”
The deep voice startled you, snapping you back to reality. A pair of dark eyes were staring at you, his brows furrowed at you as he waited for an answer.
You must’ve been looking at him still while you were lost in your thoughts. Great.
“Uh… no?” You didn’t even know why you were making it sound like a question.
“You were staring at me.”
“You were staring at me first.” You shot back.
His eyes narrowed in on you, silent for a moment as it almost seemed like he was trying to get a read on you. It had you squirming in your seat slightly— his gaze intimidating.
“I didn’t recognize you at first, (Y/n).” He admitted, your name falling off his lips so smoothly. “Was just making sure it was actually you.”
You swallowed, unprepared for that kind of response.
“Surprised you even remember my name.”
He turned his body slightly more facing you.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
You narrowed your gaze, starting to pick at the skin around your fingernails. A bad habit.
“You’re making it sound like we used to be close or something.”
He didn’t respond for a moment, just staring at you with confusion— like he didn’t understand you. He didn’t quite understand where your hostility was coming from.
“Were we not?”
You couldn’t possibly think of a way to respond to that, stuck staring at him like he’d just said the most outrageous thing. You felt confusion, shock and most importantly— embarrassment.
Remembering the day all too well, the day of your innocent much younger self building up the courage to express your feelings to a certain person. The same person who was sitting at the back of the bus with you.
You could still remember the utter humiliation of being rooted in your spot as he told you he didn’t feel the same. The sinking feeling in your stomach when he walked away, leaving you all alone to all watching eyes. You could still feel the tightness in your throat at the last glance of his pitied look towards you before he turned away.
Were we not? Choso had asked. The question almost making you laugh maniacally— at how obvious the answer was.
“No.” You told him blankly, “We were never close, I don’t know where you even got the idea that we were.”
He looked at you again for a moment, the only sound of the lulling engine of the bus. He had such a confused expression, and for a second you thought you saw something along the lines of a hurt look. That couldn’t be right.
“Yeah, guess you’re right.”
He turned back to his window, gazing out at the scenery passing by— leaving you to your thoughts again.
You shook your head, noticing that it was your stop coming up. You got up and headed towards the front of the bus, your hand hanging onto the bus railings as you walked along.
“Have a good day ma’am.” The driver had said sweetly.
You gave them a small smile, holding onto the railing tightly as you focused on your steps. Why did the bus stairs have to be to steep? You thought.
Your heel hovered too far ahead of the next step, causing you to slip— your right knee buckling from the previous stair, crumpling under you.
The bus driver gasped, something about asking if you were okay— but all you could focus on was the hot sensation coming from your right leg. You gripped tightly onto the railing, stopping yourself from falling any further. You bit your lip as a weird sensation flourished throughout you, memories of the accident fresh in your mind— the visions almost causing you to physically flinch away.
“Ma’am? Are you okay ma’am?”
You closed your eyes for a minute, taking a deep breath before you stood on shaky legs, your left leg taking most of the weight. You hobbled off the bus, limping pathetically until you reached a bench.
It wasn't completely a reaction from the pain. Yes it hurt, but it were the overwhelming flashbacks that would cripple you momentarily. You just needed to relax on the bench for a couple seconds, you'd be okay after.
"(Y/n)—?" The familiar deep voice startled you, lifting your gaze to see Choso holding out your bag. "You dropped this."
You kept a neutral expression, grabbing your bag back.
"Thanks."
"You okay?" He asks, and you were confused at his genuinely concerned expression.
You tucked your hair behind your ears, taking a deep breath. You felt better now that the uncomfortable feeling passed.
"Yeah, I'm fine." You kept your answers short.
Choso didn't believe you.
"You sure?" He pushed.
You narrowed your eyes, studying him— almost like you were trying to figure him out.
"Do you actually care?"
Choso sighed, crossing his arms, still standing in front of you.
"Why would I ask if I didn't care?" He replied, his expression the same as when he'd started talking to you— concerned.
"Why would you even ask? You've never bothered to talk to me before, so why now?" You wondered, this sudden change confusing. He was usually quiet and keeping to himself— certainly not bothered to strike up conversation with you. So why now, was it rude to ask?
"You looked like you were in pain, so I thought I'd make sure you were okay." He explained, his brows furrowed as he was slightly annoyed, "Maybe I don't talk a lot, but that doesn't mean I'm heartless."
"Could've fooled me." You mumbled.
"Why do you hate me so much?"
You scoffed, wondering if you should tell him how your younger feelings were hurt. Your younger self experiencing her first heartbreak. Definitely not.
"I don't hate you... I just would rather not talk with you." You said instead.
"Alright... because?"
"Because I just don't wanna talk with you."
He sighed again, running a hand through his hair— which looked so soft and just gorgeous. No, don't think about that.
"Seems unfair."
You shrugged, leaning back on the bench as you crossed your legs. Taking your time when you set your right leg overtop your left, as it felt a little sore from your tumble.
"Life's unfair." You muttered, hating that you were repeating what you had been told all your life. To be on the other end of it felt weird.
He chuckled. He actually chuckled, the deep vibrating sound floating through the air. You really couldn't ignore how much you loved hearing that sound. Actually, you hated that you loved it.
"Alright, well take care (Y/n). Give your leg some rest, hope you feel better." He said, turning to walk away.
Your cheeks flushed, hating that he had caught you— but how?
"I told you— I'm fine." You tried to convince him.
"I know. You're a terrible liar." And he was incredibly observant.
You bit your lip in annoyance, uncrossing your legs and holding your hands over your right thigh— like you were trying to hide it. Yeah good luck.
You couldn't find it in yourself to respond, too frustrated that he had called you out. A part of you wanted to appreciate that he at least seemed like he really cared— but you also didn't trust that it was genuine. You wanted it to be— that small part of you always having a spot in your heart for him. For some reason.
His steps were swift and relaxed as he walked further away down the sidewalk— to where exactly? No idea. You were almost positive this wasn't even his stop, and that he only got off for you. To give you your bag back you weirdo— yeah thats it.
With everything, like coach pressuring you into skating, your family drama that you'd rather not talk about, Maki's odd obsession with getting me dicked down— and now Choso? I didn't need this and I didn't want it.
So why was your head filled with thoughts about him, and his stupidly handsome face?
Fuck.
Your phone rang in your bag, and you scrambled to get it out with a huff of annoyance. Can't I just be left alone? You thought.
Pulling it out, the caller ID said Coach. With a sigh, you slid to answer.
"Hey Coach." You greeted.
"(Y/n)! Good news—!" Her voice squealed through the phone, making you flinch back from it, "I got someone to help you get back on the ice!"
You face palmed your face, running a hand down as you held in the urge to whine.
"Oh, really?" You ask in fake interest.
"Yup, they will help you get comfortable skating again. I wouldn't have asked this person if I didn't trust them." She informed you.
"Great." You said sarcastically.
"(Y/n), try to sound a little excited— god." She complained, and you rolled your eyes. "I'm gonna send you this person's profile. Maybe you can meet and talk with him, get to know each other before you start training. Y'know, get comfortable with each other."
"Alright fine, but I'm only doing this because I know you'll just force me anyway."
"Very true." She laughed. "I'm sending over the info now, gotta go— text you later!"
She hung up before you could say bye, and you got the expected ding of the text. You clicked on the link to the profile and immediately noticed the logo on the profile— it was a hockey team.
Your eyes skimmed over the profile and widened in disbelief when you read the name listed. You gotta be fucking kidding me...
Choso Kamo.
Well fuck.
— ending notes. thinking about making this a series, but I have so many projects in the works right now, what am I doing to myself lol
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#anime#choso kamo#choso x female reader#choso x you#choso x y/n#choso x reader#jjk choso#jujutsu kaisen choso#hockey player!choso#hockey player au#fic rec#fic recs#choso my beloved#ice skater au#trauma#angst with a happy ending#fic recommendations#jjk fic recs
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Note
Hear me out-
YJ fucking around on the system that was recently upgraded with Bat level tech.
Small oversight? Because its been upgraded to the new system- it can accidently connect to the batcave computer.
Imagine them stumbling upon a file called "Contingency Plan- Blackbird" and its by far one of the biggest files, and all it is? Hundreds upon hundreds of files on what to do if Tim ever became a villain.
YJ is obviously probably horrified- but upon telling Red on the fact his dad has thousands of documented ways to take him down (even what heroes would be willing to turn on him or not).
Tim just like "Well yeah- i've pushed the lines a few times, its a nessicary protocol"
And now the members are looking at each other trying to figure out how to explain that no its not okay for your dad to obsessivly plan how to arrest/kill you if need be.
Just popped into my mind and I know you never turn down a chance for bad dad bruce so would love to hear your perspective <33
Sincerly, @batfambrainrotbeloved
Hello 👋 👋👋 I do despise Bruce and wish that man many failures (and to die alone as a shriveled husk).
Anyways!!!!!!!!!
Yes. Tim and the other Bats have many family habits instilled in them by their mentor's actions and inactions. Because the man proposes violence as an acceptable answer to disagreements (aka hitting his kids), they see this as acceptable actions to inflict upon each other. Not all fights can be handled peacefully, but they should be using violence as a means of defense, not a tool of prosecution.
For Tim, this is another behavior/action/policy of Bruce's he's been conditioned to. If I am remembering correctly, Tim was initially against the idea of keeping files on his loved ones (like Bruce does). This mindset changed after the 16th birthday. I could be misremembering, but that's especially devastating. We can see the long-lasting effects of Bruce's actions (and how there are trickle effects).
It's extremely difficult to deconstruct what you've been guided into by your trusted adult. YJ will have to approach this slowly and be prepared for setbacks if they want to help Tim establish healthier boundaries/relationships/self-image. Hearing your father figure worry over your propensity for evil is damaging.
#dc comics#tim drake#dc universe#bruce wayne#thank you for the ask!!!!#bruce wayne bashing#dc au#i would be happy to go in more detail if anyone has questions#gonna sleep now though so night y'all
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