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yoon-kooks · 1 year

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paired & pierced | jjk

⛓️pairing: hotnerd!jungkook x popular!reader

⛓️genre: smut, fluff, college!au

⛓️summary: When your professor assigns a collaborative midterm project, you’re paired up with Jeon Jungkook, the quiet grumpy smartass who keeps to himself and doesn’t fuck with popular kids like you. If you can win him over, he might give you a taste of the tatted and pierced body he’s carefully tucked away beneath those oversized hoodies.

⛓️word count: 5.3k

⛓️warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, unprotected rough sex, daddy kink, good girl kink, she's tight, he's big, fingering, mutual masturbation, begging, edging, orgasm denial, cumshot, dick tattoo, not the soft jjk i usually write

⛓️p&p masterlist⛓️

a/n: this is a request from @screamertannie !💖 im not used to writing dom/sub stuff but i tried!! paired & puppy-eyed is jungkook's pov✨

It’s become somewhat of a pre-class ritual for the gals to gather around your desk to discuss anything from the latest frat party hookups to guessing the lengths of your male classmates. The gossip doesn’t particularly interest you, and you’ve never once contributed to the cock talk. But who are you to tell them to leave you alone? If people naturally gravitate toward you, you should see it as a good thing.

“I heard that hottie Tim is single again,” Blue Hair Girl says, turning to you with the curious eyes of a true gossiper. “Y/N, you were hanging out with him at that party last weekend, weren’t you? Is he as big as they say?”

“Didn’t see it.” And you’re glad you didn’t. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt when he approached you, but he kept pulling you in for PDA conveniently when his ex was in sight. He was clearly using you for something you want no part of. In the end, you let him off easy by saying you had to leave early to feed your fish (you don’t have any fucking fish).

“Aw, that’s too bad.” Blue Hair Girl and the others give you a few pouty frowns.

“Yep.” Not really.

“Well, speaking of hotties, I’ve been trying to get Hoseok’s attention for a week now,” Nose Ring Girl sighs. She suddenly grasps your hands and pleads, “Wait, Y/N, you’re friends with him, right? Think you can give me his number?”

You wouldn’t call Hoseok a “friend”—he’s more of an acquaintance you happen to be friendly with, much like everyone sitting around you. But you do have his number. You have a lot of people’s numbers on your phone even though you can’t match any of their names to their faces.

“Here.” You flash your phone screen with Hoseok’s contact info before Nose Ring Girl. Her eyes light up like fireworks.

“Thank you so much, Y/N! You’re the best!” she squeals.

Toward the end of class, your professor announces something that makes your stomach turn.

“The midterm will be a partner project where you have to debug the code I assign to you and add on to it in a creative way,” she explains. “And because I’m nice, I’ll let everyone choose their own partners. Please let me know who you’ll be working with before taking off.”

You hate this. You’re surprisingly okay about the debugging part because the masochist in you kind of enjoys it, but you’re not okay with the partner part. When it comes to choosing partners, it never ends well for you. Because despite how many people you surround yourself with, you always struggle to find someone who chooses you before anyone else.

You’re no one’s number one.

This time is no different. The girls who were so happy to be gossiping at your desk an hour ago are partnering up with one another on the other side of the room. Among them, Nose Ring Girl doesn’t appear to have coupled up yet, so she might be your only shot. Besides, you did her a favor earlier by giving her Hoseok’s number. The least she can do is partner up with you.

“Y/N, guess what?” She skips over to your desk with a big fat smile on her face. “I just texted Hoseok, and he asked to partner up with me. It’s all thanks to you, babe!”

“Oh, cool.” You try not to sound so disheartened.

She gives you a quick hug before heading back to the boy you indirectly set her up with. You’re happy for her, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t suck. Whether intentional or not, it feels like everyone who comes near you just wants something from you—love advice, a boy’s number, PDA to make their ex jealous, or even answers to the homework—which is fine to an extent. The problem is that people keep taking, and you’re tired of not even getting the bare minimum in return.

To top it all off, Big Tim is headed your way. Yes, you want a partner. No, it’s not going to be him. You’ll pick literally anyone else in the class over him. The question is: who else doesn’t have a partner yet? People are paired up left and right.

Except for maybe the boy sleeping in the seat right next to you.

“Jungkook,” you say in a half-hushed half-hurried voice. The boy doesn’t move an inch. Maybe he’s dead.

You hop out of your chair, stand in front of his desk, and tap on the wooden surface in front of his face. Still no response.

Aware that Big Tim is inching his way closer, you crouch down to hide as if that’ll buy you more time. The boy in front of you needs to wake up right now.

You reach toward his slumped-over body and peel off his hood. There’s a good chance he isn’t dead and just didn’t hear you because he had earbuds in or something. You hope.

No earbuds. But you do find something worth noting—a trail of empty piercing holes up his earlobe. You don’t know Jungkook all that well, but he’s been in a bunch of your comp sci classes and you’ve never seen any piercings on him. You’d remember something like that because you’re a huge sucker for boys covered in piercings and body art. All you remember is that he’s quiet and always gets the highest grades on exams because he’s a genius or whatever.

“Hey Jungkook,” you whisper into his ear and tap one of his fingers. A sleepy eye finally peeks at you. Thank god he isn’t dead. “Wanna be partners?”

He sits up slowly, adjusts his glasses, and looks around the classroom before turning back to your puppy eyes. “Sure, I guess.”

“Good, good,” you sing, scurrying back to your seat. Partner secured. Mission accomplished. Just in the nick of time.

“Y/N, still looking for a partner?” Big Tim asks at your desk.

“I’m actually partnered up with Jungkook, sorry.” You give an apologetic smile. You really need to stop that. If you had just been brutally honest with him the other day at the party, he wouldn’t be here bugging you now.

“That kid asked you to be his partner?” He points a finger at “that kid” who appears to have gone back to sleep.

You nod even though you were the one who technically asked Jungkook.

“And you said yes?”

You nod again. Big Tim continues to stare as if he’s waiting for you to abandon Jungkook for him. Maybe if he wasn’t such an asshole in the first place, you wouldn't be actively avoiding him like the plague. He had his chance.

After several awkward seconds, he finally backs off and Jungkook rises from the dead once more.

“Why didn’t you just partner up with that other guy? It sounded like he wanted to work with you,” Jungkook yawns as he fluffs his bedhead around. He looks so nice and toasty in that hoodie. No wonder why he falls asleep in class so easily.

“That’s not what he wanted.” He wanted to use you to hurt someone else. And you don’t want to be taken advantage of anymore.

“What about everyone else? Aren’t you friends with everyone here?” That’s just the illusion you’ve created. It feels so fake.

You shake your head. “Let’s just say, if a house were on fire and these people had a choice to save either me or one of their actual friends, I’d burn down with the house 10/10 times.”

“And who would you save?” he challenges you. That’s an easy question.

“No one.”

“Good answer.” The edge of his lips curves upward ever so slightly. “Alright, if it’s cool with you, I’ll just do the project myself and slap your name on it. Shouldn’t take me longer than an hour.”

“Wait, I wanna contribute too, you know,” you argue. He might be a smartypants, but you’re not the type of person to slack off and make him do all the work. You wouldn’t be surprised if other people take advantage of him on group projects like this. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t even bother with fake social interactions with peers the way you do. You admire him for that. “We should meet up and work on it together over the weekend.”

“I’m busy,” he says. Bullshit. You can tell when people make up excuses to get out of things because you’re guilty of it too. The difference is that Jungkook doesn’t sugarcoat it with coverup stories like needing to feed your nonexistent fish. Why do you find that so attractive?

“Busy with what?” You flutter your eyelashes and challenge him the way he challenged you. The fact that you’re fighting over the right to help with the project is both silly and refreshing. Usually, it’s the opposite where you’re forced to plead with your group to pull their own weight. But here you are, practically begging the boy to let you do some coding with him. Him pushing you away is a huge turn-on.

“My newborn.” He says it with such a straight face that you take his word for it.

“You have a child?” Your eyes sparkle. That either makes him a young single dilf or a committed family man you probably shouldn’t be batting your eyes at. For everyone’s sake, you hope it’s the former. “If it’s easier for you and the little one, we can work at your place?”

For a long while, he just blinks at you like you’ve said something horribly wrong. Oh no. Maybe he’s still with the kid’s mom and now he thinks you’re trying to invade their space and be some kind of homewrecker.

“I was just fucking with you…” he admits. Why does it feel like he has secondhand embarrassment from your gullible ass? It’s fine, though. You much prefer being gullible over the homewrecker angle. Then he inputs his number and address into your phone. “But if it makes you feel better, come babysit my kid tomorrow.”

The next day, you wake up a little earlier, dress a little cuter, and feel a little more excited than usual. You’re usually indifferent (if not stressed) about hangouts and parties, but Jungkook is different. It’s fun talking to him, and you don’t have to put on a fake smile around him. He’s even got that hot grumpy boy vibe that you’re determined to win over.

After knocking on his door, you wait for a good minute but there’s no response. Maybe he’s still asleep or butt-naked in the shower. You would’ve messaged him that you were on the way, but you were scared he might have second thoughts and cancel the meetup altogether. You’ve lost count of how many times that’s happened to you in your college career.

Just as you lift your fist to knock again, the door swings open. The boy who stands before you has a full sleeve of tattoos, too many piercings to count, a whole man bun, and a handsome face that looks exactly like Jeon Jungkook’s. You didn’t know he had an identical twin with a totally different style. If he wore glasses with a hoodie and took the man bun and piercings out, he’d literally be your quiet neighbor from coding class. It’s fascinating.

“Isn’t it common courtesy to give someone a heads-up before showing up at their door?” he says with his phone in hand. Same grouchy attitude though. You love it.

Wait. You suddenly remember all those mysterious piercing holes you discovered on Jungkook’s ear less than 24 hours ago.

“Why do you look like that?” You point a finger at him as if your question isn’t already rude enough. Maybe you should rephrase it. “I mean, if I’d given you a heads-up, would you have thrown on a hoodie and removed all your piercings before I got here?”

“Maybe.” He lets you into his home, but you’re more concerned about all the sick art on his arm. If he ever rolled up his sleeves in class, you know you’d be too distracted to focus on the lecture. Perhaps that’s why he keeps it all hidden. He’s just looking out for you and your higher education. Yeah right.

“Why do you hide all of this at school?” You’re sure everyone would be coming to you for his number if they knew what he was hiding up his sleeve.

“Tattoos and piercings give people something to talk about,” he explains. “And I’m not really a fan of compliments or small talk.”

Oh. He’s aware of the physical and emotional impact his body art would have on anyone lucky enough to see it with their own eyes. Your poor body is already aching to see more.

“Fine, I won’t talk about how pretty I think your tattoos are.” Or about how hot you find his lip piercing. You’ve always wanted to kiss someone with a lip ring. You’re feeling pouty all of a sudden so you bring out the puppy eyes again.

He studies the way you shamelessly work your charm on him, and you wonder if he picks up on the temptation in your pupils. “I’ll grant you permission to give one single compliment,” he huffs, finally giving in.

You’re quick to wrap your eager paws around his arm and examine it like it’s your most prized possession. The problem is, he has way too many tatts and piercings to fit into a single compliment. You could write a whole essay expressing your love for each piece you see, and that doesn’t even include the ones still buried beneath his clothes.

“Well? Are you gonna fangirl over my tattoos or just keep fondling my arm?” Funny how he’s acting all impatient and bothered by the “fondling” but doesn’t shrug you off of him. In fact, he was the one who lent you his arm in the first place!

“I wish I could see all of them.” That’s your compliment. Because you love the lusting implications behind it.

You flick your eyes up from his arm to his face, and sure enough, he’s got his eye on you as well. It’s almost a crime that it took this long for the two of you to come together like this. You’ve been neighbors in coding class for the past few weeks, and yet you were too busy with the popular crowd and he was too busy not giving a fuck about them. All you want to do now is make up for lost time.

The only thing that distracts you from the boy is a puffy tail minding its own business in the corner of your eye. When you look down, you’re pleasantly surprised to see the tiniest fluffball dropping a mouse toy at your feet.

“Ooh kitty,” you squeal as you squat down to play with the pink-nosed darling. It’s so tiny it fits in the palm of your hand, and its meows sound more like squeaks. “Wait, is this the newborn you were talking about?”

Jungkook nods. “I found her about a week ago and she’s been a menace ever since. Especially in the middle of the night.”

“Is that why you’ve been falling asleep in class lately?” You like the thought of him scolding the kitten for zooming around at 4AM only to fall back asleep with her on his chest. You’ll take a cat dilf any day.

“Yeah. But it also doesn’t help that the professor never says anything important.” He picks up the mouse toy and drops it off with her stash of goodies including a pink bed, a pink blanket, and a pink bunny plushie. The kitten hops into the bed, cuddles up with her bunny, and has the boy cover her up with the blanket. What a spoiled little thing. “So what’s this project about again?”

“You’d know if you were listening!” Gosh, you can’t stand smart people who sleep through every lecture and still come out on top while you’re taking notes and working your ass off. You still want to fuck him though.

“I’m just fucking with you again.” He finally cracks a whole ass smile and it’s beautiful. You’re mesmerized by it as he scoots you over to the computer in his room. “I already finished it, by the way.”

So much for fulfilling your dreams of coding with an exceptionally handsome boy. With a dramatic sigh of disappointment, you run the program on his screen.

As expected, it runs smoothly, free of any bugs. He even threw in an interactive portion with a sleeping kitty. Total cat dad vibes. It’s great, and there’s really no need for you to tamper with the work he’s done. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction of being the one to carry you on this project. Besides, you have an idea of how you can spice up the program and expand on the kitty part.

You spend a good amount of time going through the code line-by-line and inserting small bits here and there. Once you get to the kitty part, you add in a function to wake up the cat and have it start dancing around to a few different songs from your favorite kpop group. When it’s all set, you run it back, earn Jungkook’s stamp of approval, and submit it for your professor to grade.

“Are you sure that Jim guy wasn’t trying to be your partner just to get a good grade? Nerd.” He leans on the chair over your shoulder. You’d correct him on Big Tim’s name, but you’re too focused on the way he looks at you with such gorgeous dark eyes.

“If that were the case, he would’ve asked for a threesome with you too, Nerd,” you fire back. This is the kind of banter that results from putting two smartasses and an immense amount of sexual tension in the same room together. You want more of it.

“Not particularly interested in a threesome with him,” he says rather casually. “Doubt you would be either, judging by that game of dodgeball you were playing yesterday.”

“Well yeah, he’s kind of an asshole.” You shudder at the thought of almost being stuck as Big Tim’s partner. It’s thanks to Jungkook that you escaped that fate.

“Why do you hang out with those people anyway?” He spins your chair around to face outward and lays himself down on his bed next to the kitten who just woke up from her nap. She’s cleaning her paws like a good girl.

“I know I have a lot of shallow connections, but I figure if I surround myself with enough people, I’ll eventually have to run into someone I genuinely like, right?” You hop out of the chair, sit your ass on the edge of the bed, and convince yourself it’s to play with the kitty. She jumps down right away to catch a fly but you don’t chase after her.

“Found anyone yet?” he asks, gazing up at the ceiling like it’s the night sky. What did you ever do to deserve seeing this handsome boy and his tattoos all laid out on the bed like this? You’d do it a million more times.

“There might be a boy I’m interested in,” you hum.

“I bet it’s Jim, isn’t it?” he laughs. Why is “Jim” the one name this guy knows from your class? “You know, like a passionate love-hate type thing?”

“Fuck no.” You shimmy your ass closer to him and block his scenic view of the ceiling with your face. Now it’s you he’s gazing up at. You’re free to admire the tempting ring around his soft lip, the glimmering piercing through his brow, and all his beautiful features that have drawn you to him. You look him in the eye and lie because you know he already knows the truth. “Never mind, it’s no one.”

“Really?” All of a sudden, he pulls your body down against the mattress and climbs on top of you. One hand holds your wrists above your head while the other caresses your cheek. He leans in close but stops half a centimeter from your lips. “I was under the impression you were kind of into me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You were begging to work on this project with me yesterday, fondling my arm as soon as you got here, practically eyefucking me a minute ago,” he pauses as his hand unzips your jeans and presses into the folds between your legs. “And you’re pretty wet for me right now.”

You want to lunge at him and devour his lips to prove how right he is, but your arms are still being held captive. He smirks at your failed attempt to bite him. For now, you have to settle for squeezing your thighs against his hand to get the tiniest bit of stimulation.

“So if it’s not me, who’s this boy you’re interested in?” he whispers into your ear as you feel his hand slipping out from your pleasure spot. “I won’t continue until I get an answer.”

It’d be kinda badass if you had the willpower to keep your lips sealed for at least a minute, but you give in after 0.3 seconds. You never had a fighting chance anyway. “It’s you, Jungkook.”

He smashes his lips against yours, his tongue practically down your throat when he says, “Good girl.”

The ring around his lower lip is cold to the touch, but you keep going in for more. You love the way he tastes—like sweet alcohol that encourages you to keep indulging in the high. He’s so addicting.

At the same time, he helps you kick off your jeans and slides his whole hand back into your panties. He swirls his fingers around, coating them in your lust before rubbing over your clit. The jolt of pleasure draws a soft moan from your mouth and gets your body nice and hot. Normally, you’d be eager to get your hands back to join in on the fun, but the boy somehow knows exactly how you like being touched and toyed with. Plus, you kinda like the idea of being so helpless beneath him.

Eventually, your panties come off, followed by your shirt and his. You get the perfect view of his full sleeve as well as the big shark tattoo on his ribs. If you weren’t so horny, you’d drop everything to analyze each piece in depth. But right now, all your weak mind can handle is admiring the shark.

As soon as he lets your wrists breathe, you run your fingers along his ribs, tracing the tattoo from head to tail. The lines are so smooth and pretty. He has great taste in art and apex predators. You’ll have to ask him for the artist later so you can get yourself a baby shark at your hip.

“Got any others I should know of?” you ask with two paws ready to tear his black jeans off of him.

“Just one.” He presses his face into the crook of your neck and sucks hard to mark you as his. You can’t wait for Big Tim to see it on Monday. “You’re gonna have to earn it, though.”

You’ll do anything to get his pants off and find that final tattoo. You need to see his bare body in full, and you have an idea of how to earn it.

“Please?” For the hundredth time, you bring out the puppy eyes because that might be his only weakness. His body twitches a tiny bit, but you realize you have to take it up a notch with the dilf angle. “Please, daddy?”

The word not only makes your face hot but also taunts the bulge ready to burst out of his pants. He watches with immense focus as you unbuckle him and free his hard cock from all the fabric standing in its way.

You assumed you would’ve had to search his skin for that last tattoo, but it’s staring you right in the face. A fat snake slithers along his cock, tempting you to stroke it with its seductive glare. You’d appreciate the design more if not for the fact that snakes eat cute little lizards like salamanders and chameleons, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t incredibly hot.

Without thinking, you wrap both of your hands around his length the same way you had with his arm. Jungkook would probably use the term “fondling” again if he wasn’t so entranced by your touch. If he’s like this with just your hands, you wonder how he’d fare with your whole mouth around him.

Just as you lick the drool from the corner of your lips, he lifts your chin up to meet his gaze. “If you do good today, I’ll let you have a taste tomorrow, yeah?”

Tomorrow is too long of a wait for a starved babe like yourself, but you nod anyway because you want to be praised again.

“Good girl,” he purrs as he removes the final piece of clothing over your breasts. Then he leans back to get your whole bare body in sight. “Can you show daddy how you want to be touched?”

You start by squeezing your breasts together and working your way down to your core. Your legs spread themselves open and your fingers glide right in. One hand pumps in and out of your hole while the other strokes your clit. You’re so wet you’d think you’d already orgasmed several times if you didn’t know any better.

With shy eyes, you glance up at the boy watching your every move. This is the first time someone has ever dropped everything to watch you touch yourself. You usually just tease your clit a little if the cock inside you isn’t enough, but never once has a boy given you his full attention like this. He might not take any notes in class, but he’s definitely jotting a few things down for the next time it’s his turn to play with you.

Your fingers speed up and your panting gets louder. How long is he going to make you suffer before he takes over? The one thing you need right now is for him to fuck you senseless.

But instead of getting handsy with you, he grabs his cock and forces you to watch—not that you’d look away anyway.

“Do you want this cock inside your tight little pussy?” he says rather calmly as he jerks off.

You nod as a gasp for more pleasure escapes you.

“Beg for it.”

“Please daddy,” you whimper, giving up the last of your dignity. “I need you inside my tight little pussy.”

“Such a good girl.” He throws your legs over his shoulders and pushes himself into you. It’s definitely a tight fit, but your body adjusts to him accordingly. You almost lose it when you hear the way he grunts your name.

As he pounds in and out of you, you feel yourself getting dangerously close. “Jungkook, I’m—”

“Don’t cum yet,” he warns. “Not until I say so.”

You wish you’d known he was the type to torture you for one single release. If you’d known sooner, you would’ve tried to pace yourself. Now you’re stuck on the edge without permission to orgasm. You love it here.

In the meantime, he gives you some more sloppy kisses. His tongue doesn’t have to fight for dominance over your docile one, but he’s certainly not holding back. That, in combination with the forceful thrusting down below, is your definition of the best rough sex.

At some point, the pleasure begins to melt altogether into a foggy haze of feral lust. Your moans have been reduced to a broken record machine, and your poor body is just waiting to hear the word to finally hit its high. You don’t even know how much time has passed.

“You poor thing,” he growls into your mouth. On pure instinct, you tighten around him and feel him tense up. “Do you enjoy it when I tease you like this?”

You nod without thinking too hard about it.

“Think you can go another hour?”

Hell no, but you nod anyway.

“I’m not that mean,” he chuckles as his hands slide up and down your limp legs. “But good to know.”

He quickens the pace to build the pleasure back up with you still so tight around him. Your obnoxious moans and whimpers give porn star vibes. He better let you get your release soon if he doesn’t want any complaints from his neighbors.

“Please, Jungkook, I can’t—” you gasp, biting back the impending wave of pleasure. Your claw marks are etched into his ribs. “Please let me cum.”

Satisfied with your begging, he nods with the cockiest smile you’ve ever seen and gives you the okay. It feels like your whole body breaks into a million pieces of pure pleasure. Your back arches, your walls tighten even more around him, and your chest heaves up and down as you ride the wave out.

Not long after, he pulls out and pumps his fat cock over your breasts until they’re covered in his lust like two glazed donuts. He admires your glossy worn-out body for a good while before tossing you a hand towel to clean up. You feel timid and small all of a sudden. What if there’s nothing left to say after the excitement of sex has come and gone? What if he shrugs you aside like everyone else does once they get what they want from you?

“Did you really call me daddy?” He throws his pants back on and joins you back on the bed. You can tell he’s trying his best to hide a smile, but you see through him. It’s adorable.

“I thought you were into it, no?” Your face is flushed with heat again as you slip back into your outfit.

“It’s cute coming from you, I guess,” he shrugs as if he’s not aware of how weak he is to your baby girl charm. “I was just going with it because you said it first.”

“Well if you don’t like it, I won’t say it next time.” You give him a hmph for extra emphasis.

“I didn’t say that,” he clarifies, almost a little too quickly. You knew it.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Your voice is soft.

“Go for it.”

“Why did you invite me over even though you finished most of the project yourself?” It’s been in the back of your mind all day, although you did shove it away during the sex.

“Well, my little demon cat kept me up all night so I thought I might as well work on it. And you were hard set on coming here, weren’t you?” he says. You nod for him to continue. “But also, I wanted you to know that there’s at least one person in our class who’d save you from that house on fire.”

He’d choose you. That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to you.

“Yeah, but you hate everyone else, so I’m your only option.” Your smartass can’t help but point out the flaw in his statement. If anything, it’s you challenging him one last time.

“Maybe you’re the only option that matters,” he hums to himself as if those words don’t mean a thing. Who knew a grumpy boy could say such soft things? And who knew you’d fall for it?

If a hundred shallow friendships is what it took to bring you to this moment—this boy on this bed—then you’re glad you took that route. And you’re even happier that that route ends where this new one begins.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts college au #nerd jungkook #jungkook #bts

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aloesarchives · 4 months

Text

Popular Boy (JJK One-Shot)

TW/Warnings: Fem Reader and She/Her pronouns, Angst with Fluff ending, Profanity, Smoking from Shoko and Suguru, Highkey Miscommunication Trope, Cheesy cliches, this one-shot being way too long than it's supposed to be, a little OOC Satoru and Suguru

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem! Reader

AU: Modern/High School AU!

Pronouns: She/Her(any gal could read this, but Reader is slightly coded to be introverted, good at drawing and crafts, and a nerd)

Word Count: 10.2k words

Summary: You weren't supposed to fall in love with your best friend Satoru Gojo. But you did anyway. It doesn't help that he is the most popular guy in your school.

(A/N): This is my longest one-shot to date. I went off the rails and wrote this out of this idea and brain dump I had. Un top of being sick, I didn't post for like 2 weeks because I was working on this and having little motivation. But I'm back!

[!!!Unedited and not proofread!!! 1/24/2024 4:27pm CST]

Having a crush on your best friend is the absolute worst. You promised yourself you wouldn’t. But after reviewing your symptoms, you concluded that you are, indeed, in love with your best friend, Satoru Gojo. It's too bad he’s the most popular guy in the school. Suguru is second to him but doesn’t bask in the attention like his friend does.

It all started when you became friends with them in your first year of high school. Shoko was in your class, and you two became best friends instantly. You’d usually eat alone somewhere during break or lunch because the cafeteria was always rowdy, making it overstimulating. One day, your usual spot was taken over. Though it bummed you out your little spot was discovered, it wasn’t yours in the first place, so you went on a search for a new one. After a few minutes of searching, you spotted Shoko smoking in a hidden spot behind the school. She hears you from how your feet crunch on the dirt and asks you to join her. Though you didn’t smoke, you stayed with her. After talking briefly, Shoko asked if you were free after school, taking a long drag out of her cigarette.

You never stayed too long after school, only for your respective clubs, but that’s it. You also had no friends, so maybe this is your chance to get closer to Shoko. Upon agreeing, she smiles before taking her last drag out and extinguishing her smoke in a nearby ashtray. As the two of you returned to class, she told you that her other two friends were coming. Hinting that they were quite the handful. Your expression lightens upon hearing the two new people joining your hangout with Shoko. Perhaps this could be what you needed to step outside of your comfort zone to have a social experience like everyone else your age.

After getting off the train with Shoko, she pulled you along the busy crowd and met the two boys at the subway station entrance. You didn’t, however, expect Shoko’s mystery friends to be Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto—the most well-known boys in the entire school and possibly the whole district. Shoko was making your introduction to them as you grew shy under their gaze. Nervous was an understatement; anxiety was brewing in you like rain clouds forming a storm. What if they scoff at you? Mock you? Purposely pick on you for fun? Each thought raced against each other across your mind that you didn’t notice Satoru placing his hand on your shoulder. It snapped you back to reality as you looked up to avoid being rude.

You’ve heard the rumors and the hushed whispers from every corner of the school about how Satoru Gojo was among the most good-looking guys. How he had blue eyes that matched the sky and hair like snow. You only caught glimpses of him throughout the campus but never saw him up close. But now that you are, you can confirm it for yourself. To you, he looked more ethereal, if anything. His blue eyes were like the endless cerulean sky above, his white hair lightly tousled in the wind; he was beautiful to you.

“Hey, you don’t have to stiffen up around me. I don’t want you to go all shy on me (Y/N). Satoru Gojo, at your service~.”

Extend his hand to shake yours; you return the gesture, albeit clumsily. Satoru chuckles before he unexpectedly brings your hand to his lips. He kissed your fingers ever so gently, feather-like almost. Your body most certainly would have erupted in a blaze by his actions. But it didn’t; you were more caught off-guard. You wondered if he did this to every girl he came across. He just smiled afterward but gets bonked on the head by Suguru, who went to introduce himself to you.

“Satoru, you’re going to scare her off. Sorry (Y/N), he’s always like that. I’m Suguru Geto, and I hope you’re not uncomfortable because of him.”

You quickly dismissed it, trying to ease Suguru’s concerns. After hanging out with them, you knew you found people you would call friends. You never had that much fun until you hung out with them. Going to arcades, eating out together, and wandering the city of Tokyo filled you with non-replicable happiness. After that hangout, the rest was history. Since then, you have always hung out with Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko. You all stuck together like glue every time possible. You never guessed their popularity rubbed off as well. You became known on campus as a well-known upperclassman and now a senior.

But you noticed you spent more time with Satoru than with Shoko or Suguru. You could credit it to his goofy, childish personality that matched your vibe even more. He loved discussing Digimon and was happy you shared the same interest. You two would indulge in each other’s interests and hobbies. It became more evident that both of you had grown closer from when Shoko adopted you into their group. Yet, you told yourself time and time again not to fall for Satoru. In fear of losing what you have with each other because you caught “feelings.” In addition, Satoru had many, many, MANY admirers—girls across the school, district, and the Tokyo Metropolitan area. Many come from prominent backgrounds, blessed with being gifted, or simply beautiful in every way. While you didn’t mean to self-sabotage yourself, you were beautiful and brilliant in your own right; you were being realistic. How could someone like Satoru Gojo, from a wealthy and prominent family for centuries, go for someone like you? It was wishful thinking at that point, but it was stretching itself thin even then.

Anyhow, this brings you to the present. It’s December 1st, six days before Satoru’s birthday. You were in your dorm, conjuring up what to get him. It was more complicated than because the man was loaded. He had the money to buy anything and everything he wanted. So what can you get for him that wasn’t already bought? After some time, you had the genius idea to make something for him. You decided on making a bracelet and a framed sketch of him from one of your sketchbooks you occasionally draw in.

While working on your gifts, you were on the receiving end of teasing from Suguru and Shoko, specifically from Suguru. I mean, he was the first one to catch on to your feelings for his friend. Shoko had her suspicions but never mentioned them in case she was delusional. But once Suguru brought it up, she instantly joined in the teasing. It was harmless fun, yet you couldn’t help but rethink your crush on Satoru. Your feelings for him shouldn’t exist, yet you can’t help it. You felt alive, but most of all, you felt comfortable and safe with Satoru. You never hid your lovely personality or felt ashamed of your interests. Satoru was always supportive and was a part of your shenanigans too. As cheesy as it was to admit, it felt like you’ve found your soulmate, your other half. You always relished your moments with Satoru, no matter how short or dumb they were. Sure, you loved your moments with the gang, but it hits differently when it’s only Satoru and you. It was as if your life changed when he came into it.

During the day before Satoru’s birthday, Shoko and Suguru hunched over your desk as you finished the page you were doodling. The smears from the graphite and erased pencil markings showed the fine details to capture Satoru’s features.

��Wow, those look exactly like him. If he were animated, he'd be drawn like this. May I, (Y/N)?” Suguru asked.

You nodded, and Suguru picked up the sketchbook to inspect the page further. Shoko peered over his shoulder to also get a look.

“I think Gojo would love this. Don’t you think so, Suguru?”

“I would think so too, Shoko. It’s a well-thought-out gift (Y/N). Satoru would love it.”

“Wait, (Y/N)! Show Suguru what else you made him!”

Suguru raises a brow at the brunette as you pull up a photo on your phone to show to Suguru. Suguru squinted his eyes a bit to see the picture a bit more clearly.

“You made that bracelet for Satoru? It’s pretty nice. Where’s our (Y/N)?”

“I have them back in my room, Suguru! I just. . . You know. . .”

“So you’re implying we’re not as special as your beloved Blue Eyes White Dragon?”

“SHOKO, you’re not helping!!! OfcourseImadeitmorespecialforhimbecausehereallylikesdigimonandhisbirthdayiscomingup–”

“(Y/N)! I was just joking! Geez, calm down before you pop a blood vessel.”

As you catch yourself from any further rambling, you are about to explain the bracelet to Suguru before Satoru slides the classroom door open. You think it’s him but can’t tell through the mountain of gifts and bags in his arms. But seeing a wisp of his white hair gave you all the more reason that it was Satoru. Satoru plops the pile on his desk as his arms cave in, some gifts falling off the edge and onto the floor. One fell near your desk, so you picked it up and placed it back on his desk.

“Is it Valentine’s Day? What’s with the gifts, Satoru?”

“*sighs* These are from numerous girls all over the school from varying grades. My birthday is tomorrow, so I guess I'll get the early gifts. Though, I don’t know how to return all this to my dorm. You guys wanna help me open them up back in my room?”

You all replied yes and helped Satoru with his pile of gifts. As you put on your sketchbook, you felt a breath tickle your ear.

“Hey, whatcha drawing, (Y/N)? Drawing (favorite Digimon/Pokemon) again? Let me see!”

You caught a whiff of his surprisingly minty, fresh breath. Usually, it comes in hot with the number of sweets he’s been eating, so this was a pleasant surprise to you.

“I’ll show you later when we open your gifts in your room, ‘Toru. You gotta be patient.”

You chided while swatting his all too-close face away from you. Little did you know, a sickly sweet smile flashed on his face upon hearing his nickname. Once the last bell rang, you four headed straight for Satoru’s dorm to open all the gifts he received from the day. Once dumping them into a pile, you each read the note attached to the gifts and opened them up. Some were cool, homemade gifts, others were basic and generic. Most were sweets or baked goods since he is widely known to have a sweet tooth. You all were open and chatty when Suguru grabbed a neatly wrapped velvet box.

“Hey, Satoru, isn’t this from your ex?”

“Which one?”

“Don’t know, let me see the tag. . . From Satomi. . .”

“Oh, her! Let me see, Suguru!”

You cringed hard hearing Satoru talk about his numerous “girlfriends.” As much as you didn’t want to say it, Satoru’s playboy attitude was your least favorite thing about him. All the girls he saw shared one common trait: they never stayed too long with him. Satoru would cycle through many girls every few weeks to maybe a month. He never bothered to introduce them into the friend group, let alone bring them to your shared hangouts. Now that you think about it, he never talks about them when you or the others are present. He never calls them his girlfriends or partners, just sugar-coated words and nicknames meant to sweeten a non-existent fruit that never grew in the first place. You wondered if he would treat you the same if you dated him. But you were thinking too deeply, FOCUS GIRL!!! It’s now or never. Well, not really, but you have the perfect chance to give Satoru his birthday gift! You can make it work for just the two of you! Find him by himself, steal him away to deliver your gift, and possibly confess.

Satoru's birthday gifts from his fans dwindled to only small boxes and clear bags. Shoko and Suguru categorized his gifts as apparel, food, trinkets, etc., while Satoru plopped beside you. You were munching away at some candy, deciding to take a break from opening the cookie cutter-esk presents as your vision became spotty. It was silent for a moment, only the sounds of your other two friends' voices bickering about which pile a gift should go. Satoru shifts his attention towards you, mindlessly popping the candy into your mouth before dramatically yawning, spreading his limbs across his bed. His legs would stretch over your lap. You popped the last candy before throwing the empty bag at him.

“What’s wrong, Satoru? You've grown tired of your gifts or what?”

“That and feeling sore from sitting on the floor. . . Hey! Will you show me your drawing from earlier (Y/N)?”

“Uh. . . I dunno, Satoru–”

“Pleaseeeeeeee?! I promise I won’t crease the pages like last time! Come on (Y/N)!”

Satoru juts out his lip and gives his puppy eyes with praying hands. You glance at Suguru and Shoko, who snickered at your little predicament. You sighed deeply and pulled out your sketchbook for him to see. He was giving you his full attention, asking questions, and complimenting the fine details of your latest creation. You two were smiling and giggling along as you turned the pages. However, you were getting nervous because you didn’t want Satoru to see his page. You hoped he got bored or distracted so you didn’t have to flip through more from your book. Suguru has a sixth sense because he called Satoru’s attention before you flipped to the next page, which would’ve been his.

“Okay, man, we sorted your gifts into these four separate piles, which one should be obvious. . . Look at the time; it’s almost curfew for the girls. I’ll walk them to their dorms, Satoru.”

Before Satoru could protest and tag along, Suguru snatched you and Shoko away and out of the dorm. Satoru stood up perplexed, before shrugging it off and storing his gifts away. Suguru dragged you two to the skywalk and looked dead into your eyes, startling you from his sudden closeness.

“You have to do it tomorrow, (Y/N).”

“Uh, do what, Suguru?”

Shoko and Suguru gave each other a face before looking back at you.

“You gotta confess to Satoru, (Y/N). Do it tomorrow when you give him your gift on his birthday. And before you ask, we knew about your feelings for him way before. It’s painfully obvious, (Y/N).”

Shoko just nods her head in agreement. You knew Suguru had a point; it’s now or never. But you didn’t want to make things awkward for Satoru, let alone pressure him to say yes because he feels terrible for rejecting. Overthinking started kicking into high gear, and you started thinking about every possible scenario Satoru could react to. None of them were of him reciprocating your feelings. Unfortunately, Suguru had to say the dread words no one wants to hear when trying to confess to their crush.

“The worst thing he could say is no, (Y/N).”

Shoko elbows him while you wince at his words. You knew he meant to comfort you, but it didn’t help ease your nerves. Suguru, observant as ever, picked up on it, and from Shoko’s reaction, he knew his words were a miss.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll come with you for support, so it won’t be as stressful going alone.”

Suguru gives you a comforting smile, and you give on in return. Shoko said she couldn’t come because she volunteered to tutor some underclassmen for some Visa gift cards. So she says good luck to you before walking across the skyway and into the building of the girls' dormitory. You gained some confidence and bid Suguru goodnight to finalize your gifts. You framed Satoru’s page in a sleek dark blue frame and knotted Satoru’s bracelet. The marble beads of the bracelet were white, cerulean blue, and black. Complementing each with a small interchange charm in the middle where an Agumon charm dangled freely. You wrapped up both gifts and placed them in a mildly used paper bag you had from when you went shopping.

As the next day rolled in, you were surprisingly giddy to give your gift. You just had to catch Satoru alone and give yourself a good ten minutes to slip in your confession. The problem was you hadn’t seen Satoru at all. Sure, today was a half-day, but Satoru was barely in class. When he was, though, he was flooded by many girls telling him happy birthday or giving more gifts. Since it was a Friday, Satoru didn’t do much after school and would wander Tokyo for the remainder of the day. You knew you were losing time, so doing it right after school was best.

Once the last bell rang, you packed your bag and held your present tightly to find Satoru. However, he was gone from his seat when you looked at his desk. While you tried to find him, Suguru texted you. He said he saw Satoru go behind the school. He also said he would wait for you at the front gate to hear about your results. As you go to the back, you are smiling so hard that it would make your teeth rot. But as you got closer, your sweet smile instantly dropped when you heard a girl’s voice and another voice you made out to be Satoru’s. Your heartbeat repeatedly drummed in your ears as you hid yourself to not be noticed. Trying to even out your breath, you slowly peek your head in a slow, agonizing manner to get a better look. Unfortunately, your curiosity kills your heart as it confirms your worst fear.

Satoru stood smiling, and another girl giggled like a classic school girl in a high-school rom-com movie. You recognized her as she was in the same grade but from a different class. You’ve seen her around but never been a part of Satoru’s unofficial fan club. Yet you could never have guessed she liked him too. You knew you should look away, already seeing what was needed. But the naive sliver of hope forced you to continue watching, hoping it was a delusion your mind conjured up. Although you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you knew the other girl beat you to him as she held Satoru’s hand and smiled up at him. Satoru places a hand on her cheek and probably says something you can make out ‘I love you' before dipping his head to meet hers. A chill washes over your body as your grip on Satoru’s present stiffens, further crimping the paper bag. Shakily, you pulled out your phone and took a picture before turning on your heels and going anywhere but here.

Suguru was ever so patiently waiting on the outcome. He was blissfully smiling. Hoping all is going well and in your favor. He was distracted by his phone when he recognized the sound of your footsteps. He pockets it as he sees your figure walk towards the gates. He cheerfully called out for you but was met with silence. When you walked past him, your head hung low; Suguru knew something was wrong. Concerned, he quickly went after you while calling for you. When nothing works, he steps in front of you to hold your shoulders still to prevent any more movement. Shaking your shoulders, he firmly asks what’s wrong.

A wretched look contorted on his face when he saw your face. Your eyes are shiny from glossy tears on the verge of overflowing from the edges. Lips in a tight quiver, trying to not let a sob escape from within the depths of your hurt soul. You were trying your best to stay together, but Suguru saw you were hanging on by a thread. He gives you a comforting, tight hug as you begin to cry into him. Letting it all out and providing comforting pats on your back. As you start to calm down, Suguru gently takes you to a nearby cafe where some of your group hangouts and study sessions happen. Considering your current state, he keeps you from paying for your drink. Once he got them and sat down, you told him what you saw that caused this. Suguru chokes on his drink in disbelief upon hearing about Satoru’s doings.

“He what?! Are you sure, (Y/N)?”

You nodded as you pulled up the picture on your phone to show Suguru. His eyes widen even further as he stares at the picture. Returning back your phone, he takes a big sip of his drink.

“So, what are you going with your gift then, (Y/N)? Are you still going to give it to Satoru?”

“I... I. . . Don’t know, Suguru. . . I did make it for him, but I don’t think he’ll care.”

“What makes you think he wouldn’t, (Y/N)?”

“You know what I mean, Suguru. Satoru doesn’t really hold onto any gifts he gets. Unless it’s sweets or something he thinks is cool, he’ll donate, give, or throw it away. My present would collect dust in his room and be forgotten. We literally sorted out his fan mail yesterday.”

You glance over at your initial present for Satoru. The bag has deep creases and wrinkles from death gripping it in your disassociated state. You delicately bring it to your lap, blankly staring at the two dedicated gifts inside. Sighing in defeat, you slowly fold the top of the bag before setting it back in its previous place. You gave Suguru a tired smile, saying how wishful thinking blinded you from reality. Suguru couldn’t help but feel pity. It hurts him to see you like this and blame yourself for dreaming about something he knew would become a reality. But he was thrown in for a loop because he was sure his best friend was hopelessly in love with you. The glances, the consistency of bringing up your name, the extra care he gave when it came to you, IT WAS ALL RIGHT THERE! Was Satoru leading everyone on, you included? Suguru was going to get to the bottom of this. He escorts you back and asks Shoko to stay with you until nighttime.

After filling Shoko in, you looked at the crippled bag sitting alone on the floor. Taunting, making a mockery of you, and constantly reminding you how you really let your feelings get out of hand to let you believe a fantasy. How foolish you are, little stupid fool you were, you think. Getting off your bed, you go over to the bane that reminds you of your naivete as a hopeless romantic. You were tempted to throw the whole bag away; consider burning it all.

Despite thinking of wiping the existence of those gifts from this world, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. They were drawings of Satoru and a handmade bracelet with his favorite Digimon, and you were proud of how they turned out. The time and dedication you put into it really showed how much this man had a chokehold on your life no matter what. Crush, friend, it didn’t matter. He really changed your life; you would be forever grateful for that. Even if that meant you always stayed friends. It was a better fate than being strangers altogether. So you decide to store the bag in an empty drawer for miscellaneous items, not wanting to see it anymore. Shoko was surprised by your actions. Though she would understand you destroying them, she didn’t expect you to keep your gifts. You just shrugged, saying destroying it wouldn’t do you any good. No amount of satisfaction or fulfillment would come from it. Shoko just gives you a hug as you lean into it.

Ever since that day, you slowly stopped talking to Satoru. He didn’t notice it because you would make excuses or leave immediately before he could catch up. He thought you were busy with homework and school. It was brought to his attention when you wouldn’t hang out with him. Whenever he texted you to hang out, you would say you were busy or not feeling good. It got worse when you didn’t attend your group hangouts with Suguru and Shoko. It was always the four of you. Without you, it felt incomplete, and Satoru started to miss you and the vibe you brought. Even when he asked Suguru or Shoko where you were, they would give the same answer you did. And it was starting to frustrate him. Did he say or do something to distance yourself from him? Did he accidentally hurt without realizing it? Why did you suddenly not want to talk to him anymore? He sees you talking to your other friends and classmates without a care in the world. Your lovely lips always curled upwards, and how your cheeks and eyes molded to highlight your face, you were absolute divinity in his eyes. Had you always looked so beautiful to him? Yes, but he didn’t realize that until now since his only way of looking at you is from a distance.

Every time he would try to make his way over to you, you gave a quick side glance in his direction before wrapping up any conversation and leaving. This honestly began to hurt Satoru. He had never dealt something like this with anyone else. Maybe when he had severe fights with Suguru, but they would make up in the end since he knew it was mostly his fault. But this is different because he was in the dark of your avoidance. It was like he was the bubonic plague, and you were straight-up social distancing yourself from him. It didn’t matter when or where; as soon as he entered within a 12-foot radius, you were going in the other direction. This had been going on for almost two weeks! It was now the 21st, the last school day before winter break. Nothing significant was happening today besides the classic winter break assembly. He needed to talk to you so you two could somehow talk it out and make it. It’s ironic how oblivious he was to the circumstances he was in. The roles are now reversed because now he’s pining after you like you had been for him for the past few years. You usually would sit with them during these events, but since you’re distancing, you opted to sit with your peers. When you did sit with them, you would be the furthest away from Satoru.

Satoru should’ve been paying attention to the assembly. But his only focus was you, who was on the other side of the gymnasium. You were sitting on opposite bleachers with one of your underclassmen, Riko Amanai. Satoru wished he could teleport himself to you, pick you up, and go to a quiet place to talk. But he knew he had to be patient to make his move, something Suguru had to remind him constantly. Once the assembly was over, Satoru by-lined to where you were. However, the sea of students eager to leave school is challenging, even for the 6’3 boy. He saw glimpses of you with Riko as you pulled her along and weaved through the crowd out of the school. The resistance he met trying to reach you became so aggravating he was shoving anyone who got in his way. It got to the point where students made room for him to pass through, fearing the wrath of Satoru Gojo in a bad mood.

Alas, once he exited the school, you had already gone off campus to who knows where with Riko and Kuroi, her caretaker. Satoru tightened his fists, and his face bore a scowl as you slipped away again. He would have punched the school’s concrete fence if Suguru didn’t pop up in front of him. Satoru was slightly calmed when he saw his friend, but a twinge of unease settled in when he saw Suguru’s strained smile. To a regular person, it seemed like a genuine smile. But Satoru knew Suguru enough to know when he gave these smiles. This one meant he was in deep trouble. Suguru said he needed to talk to Satoru about something over a bucket of KFC with one of the Visa gift cards Shoko gave them. Satoru followed it, knowing there was more to Suguru’s unidentified mood. However, Suguru just stops in front of the KFC, idly standing with his back to him. Seeing his standoffish behavior, Satoru becomes confused and finally breaks their tense silence.

“Look, Suguru, I know this isn’t the best time. But we need to talk about (Y/N).”

“What is there to talk about her, Satoru?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Suguru. You noticed how (Y/N) has barely been hanging out with us. Giving excuses to not hang out. I don’t understand why this happened so fast. Two weeks ago, (Y/N) was fine. She was laughing with us and being a part of our stupid antics. Then, after my birthday, she slowly stopped replying to my texts and avoided me altogether. Suguru, you got to know something. I don’t want to be left in the dark anymore. I need to know what I did to make her stop talking to me.”

Oh, Suguru knew the reason why you were doing this. You told him yourself. You admitted to Suguru you didn’t know how to act around Satoru anymore, in fear of spilling your confession and making a fool out of yourself. You knew how cowardly it was to do this. Not correctly communicating your emotions and actions to Satoru was self-sabotage, and your relationship with him would suffer severely. You tried to ride out your feelings to the best of your abilities. But you learned that those feelings for Satoru wouldn’t go away no matter what you did. So, you thought the best option was to slowly distance yourself from Satoru to heal your broken heart and save your dignity. Suguru was against this at first. But he let it slide since it was only Satoru and not him or Shoko.

What he didn’t let slide was how he saw his best friend paraded around his latest girlfriend. He knew that relationship wouldn’t last at all because there was one thing he knew about his best friend. Satoru Gojo is a lonely person. No amount of fan girls or guys dick-riding him would fill the void of loneliness Satoru faced in his life. He always was told that he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He was talented and good at anything and everything he did. But with that, people only saw him from afar, never really caring to realize Satoru was like anyone else besides his wealth. Suguru knew you made Satoru feel seen and let him dwell on his antics so he could be a teen, not some high, mighty God people were willing to kiss his feet. Satoru fell in love with you but doesn’t want to admit it. Seemingly taken you for granted. Suguru doesn’t blame you for trying to lose feelings for him. He would, too, if the person he liked gave mixed signals and had a cycle through partners like daily outfits even though they heavily implied to their best friend they wanted you but never cared to tell.

You would have made the first move. But with many rejections, some harsher than others, you decide to wait for the other person to say something first or drop an obvious hint. You aren’t going to drive through a red light, only green ones. You often hear the phrase, ‘Girls who make the first move on a guy get the relationship.’ That is a blatant lie and bullshit because it only works if the guy doesn’t care, the girl asking is conventionally pretty, or the guy already liked or was interested in the girl. You experienced so much rejection that you might as well give up on telling your feelings so as not to be seen as pathetic. You thought it would be different for Satoru because of your powerful chemistry together. But he sent many mixed signals, being flirtatious and teasing you, genuinely looking out for you simultaneously, all the while still never giving a break to dating and having a long line of girlfriends at his beak and call. It was too complicated for you. Then, with the incident, you knew you had no chance with him because it seemed he would never feel the same.

“Do you like (Y/N), Satoru?”

Satoru gave his best friend a bewildered look, his face recoiling.

“Yeah, of course, I like (Y/N), Suguru. What kind of question is that—”

“That’s not what I’m asking you, Satoru. Do you love (Y/N)? Yes or No, simple as that.”

“What are you trying to get at, Suguru?”

Suguru visibly groans at the Satoru’s density. This was annoying Suguru at this point.

“Satoru, be honest with yourself. Admit it, you’re in love with (Y/N). How you look out for her, care for her, and constantly bring her up in conversations every chance you get, the longing gaze you give her when she isn’t looking, always staring at her instead of anyone else in the room. The list goes on and on, Satoru. Stop denying it. Do you love her, or are you just saying that because you want to joke about someone’s feelings?”

Satoru’s voice was caught in his throat; he had his answer, but his body wasn’t giving him a chance to say it. It was like Suguru hitting the nail every time, making Satoru feel cornered. Suguru sighed frustratedly at the silence of his best friend, who usually would have his answers ready in the queue.

“So you never really loved (Y/N) then, Satoru.”

“What! No! I do love (Y/N), Suguru—”

“Then why the fuck do you still indulge in your playboy personality? You and I both know that won’t get you anywhere, Satoru. It’s doing you more damage than good, yet you continue feeding into it! Maybe if you gave a break from your causal flings, (Y/N) would have confessed to you, and the two of you would have been dating by now. God, You’re just a headache, Satoru…” Suguru doesn’t shout, but his sharp tone is on the edge of becoming angry.

Wait, what?

You were going to confess to him?

You like him too?

Satoru blinks owlishly while trying to process this mind-breaking information. You liked Satoru, so the feeling was mutual, right? Then why is Suguru getting mad at him for feeling the same way?

“Wait… Suguru...(Y/N) likes me too? Why didn’t she say anything in the first place? Why didn’t she tell me?”

“Because you already had a girlfriend, Satoru. (Y/N)’s not a home wrecker.”

“Yeah, okay. But I was single for two weeks! She knew that! Why didn’t she confess to me then?!”

“I don’t know, Satoru… Maybe because she was more focused on making your birthday gifts than her confession towards you. How much of her time was dedicated to making them? She was going to confess to you but decided not to.”

“When, Suguru?!”

“ . . .Your birthday. . . (Y/N) was going to give your gifts and confess on your birthday, but you decided to fuck yourself over.”

“ ‘Fuck myself over? What do you mean, Suguru?” Satoru said in a hushed but shocked whisper.

Suguru pulls out his phone, pulls up the picture you took, and shows it to Satoru. Satoru’s eyes widen like saucers, surprised by Suguru’s possession of a photograph that captured his private moment. He grabs Suguru’s phone to take a closer look before looking back up at him, face still bearing the same expression.

“Wait, that happened on my birthday. How did you take this?

“I didn’t take it, Satoru. . .”

“Huh? Then who—”

Oh. . .Oh. . .

Oh no. . .

It all was starting to click for Satoru. Suguru looked unamused as he saw his friend’s gears moving in his head.

“Suguru, I—”

“So, do you love (Y/N), Satoru? Yes or no?”

Satoru stays silent with no motions to verbalize an answer.

“*sighs* Then tell me, Satoru. Do you love (Y/N) because she is beautiful? Or is she beautiful because you love her?”

Suguru left a defeated and devastated Satoru in the streets to be alone with his thoughts. In doing so, he hoped his friend would connect the dots himself. Satoru stood frozen in front of the KFC, finally understanding it. The distance, the consistent decline in hangouts, the short conversations, being ‘happy’ around others but never near him, how your smile droops at the mention of his name, and the solemn expression your eyes wore ever since his birthday all added up. It was all because of him. Sure, it’s both parties at play here.

On the other hand, your actions were just reactions to his own, especially when his loneliness caused him to become desperate in seeking out the attention of multiple girls he would ‘date.’ Consequently, it signaled he was looking for something casual with no strings attached, making you believe giving a confession would be useless to someone like him. But that’s far from the truth.

He couldn’t believe he had done you dirty for so long. You were always in front of him, waiting for him this whole time. You were the one to give him warmth and fill in the void of loneliness that has plagued his soul for so long. But he never gave you a chance because he never cared to ask or consider it. He took you for granted because he knew you would always be there for him through everything and anything; you were his ride or die. Oh, how irresponsible of him that not truly appreciating your presence would lead to your eventual withdrawal.

Now he realized his love for you was real and profound as it was tiered above anything else. The way he flexed his bicep when you linked arms with him to stay close in big crowds, the stars your eyes have when talking about your favorite topic made him have this dumb love-sick look, or your smile that always filled him with love and joy when it’s directed at him, he still wanted to experience these things with you but as more as friends. And yet, he was on the verge of losing it all forever. Three years of friendship/pining would be wiped away in three weeks. All because he was scared to admit his fragile vulnerability behind his pompous attitude. He had to do something; he needed to. Or the only thing he will have of you is the memories you two created. Satoru booked it and ran through Tokyo for ideas on what to do. He didn’t care if he looked absurd. All that mattered to him was finding a way to mend things. The only thing on his mind was you.

Because he knew it was you.

It always has been you.

And he had to pull off miracles to save your relationship with him.

It was the next day; Satoru was carrying a big shopping bag around Tokyo, hoping to find you. After spending the rest of his afternoon and night finding some ideas, he made you what he dubs his ‘I’m sorry’ present, which was also your Christmas present. It contained a 15-inch plushie of (Your favorite Animal/Digimon/Pokemon/Character), a jacket you told him you wanted but was too expensive a while back, and (earrings/necklace/bracelets/rings/any sort of wearable jewelry) in your favorite color as you stared at it longingly when at the mall with the gang, Satoru always made a note of that.

Now, the hard part giving them to you in hopes of talking with him. It would have to be a miracle to cross paths with you. Satoru couldn’t text you since you stopped responding to his attempts at communication. In a vast city being hectic in the upcoming days of the holidays, he needed all the luck he had just to spot you in the crowd. But even if he knew your schedule by heart, there was no sign of you in Tokyo. He could visit your home, but he assumes he’s an unwelcome guest since you lived with your (sibling(s)/guardian/parent(s)/loved one), and you confide in them frequently. As time never stops, he’s losing time. His precious time with you is slipping away, never to return. Both and forth, the wind chill nipped and whipped at his exposed skin. Satoru’s cheeks, nose, and knuckles were rosy as his body worked overtime to keep warm. The puffs from his mouth fogged up his glasses as he forced himself to continue searching just to have a chance to run into you.

Satoru is not religious, nor does he believe in a god. And yet, in those moments, Satoru started to pray. He was praying, begging, pleading for any divinity to hear his desperate cries to come across you. Just a chance, anything, he’ll do anything to see a wisp of (hair color) hair walking along the streets. His strides slowed; every step he took was heavy. Until they eventually came to a stop; his chest puffed in and out after wandering aimlessly along the bustling streets of Tokyo. He exhausted himself to the point that he was unaware he was in front of the school’s gates. He didn’t even notice the gates were wide open, and a familiar figure approached them along the adjacent side. His hands were on his knees, hunched over where a shadow loomed over him. Then he hears a voice so angelic and heavenly that he believes he was hallucinating at first.

“Satoru? Satoru, are you okay?”

Slowly, he lifts his head to meet your gaze, seeing you are bundled up well. You wear a slightly troubled face while holding an umbrella over his head.

“What brings you here, Satoru? I thought you had stayed home today since it was forecasted to snow.”

Once pointed out, Satoru noticed white specks falling in front of him. He stands up at full length, making you adjust your umbrella's height on him. Though his signature grin is on his glossy lips, internally, he is screaming and celebrating that his prayers have been answered. After hours of aimlessly trying to find you throughout the city, you were finally in front of him in the most ironic place. He chuckles at your gesture before gingerly taking your umbrella and hovering it above you two.

“I was going to ask you the same thing, (Y/N).” He gives a warm smile at you.

“The school left the campus and dormitories open so students could grab their things to take home. I forgot some stuff at my dorm, so I came today to get them. Would you like to accompany me, Satoru?” You said, adjusting your empty canvas tote bag on your shoulders.

With no hesitation or thinking, Satoru immediately said yes. He smiled as he walked the two of you to your dorm. But you couldn’t help but glance down at the big shopping bag he was holding. ‘It must be a Christmas present for his girlfriend… she is so lucky.’ you thought. Not a single peep came out of you two throughout the trip to your dorm, even with no words, tension building up in the air surrounding you. Neither one of you wanted to make the first move. It was childish to continue like this. There was no bad blood between the two of you at all. But you were persistent in embarrassing yourself in front of Satoru. Before all this, you were never afraid to have banter or say the most off-the-record stuff with Satoru. But it was different when it was unrequited thoughts and feelings, as you didn’t want to further humiliate your pathetic self. Once you got to your dorm, you said you wouldn’t take long. Closing your door, Satoru leans against the back of it. He watches silently as you diligently gather your needed items and place them inside your bag. Each item is packed into your bag, and he has less time to make his move. He knows he needs to say something because he sought after you for a reason.

Likewise, you were in the same boat. You can feel the tension blanket your body as you retrieve your things. Avoid direct eye contact with Satoru for fear of breaking your facade and folding. While trying to focus on anything that wasn’t him, your eyes kept glancing at the massive bag beside Satoru’s feet. It was a decently sized bag spaced out from the items it contained. By the looks of it, you assumed Satoru went out splurging on his latest girlfriend for Christmas.

‘Wish that was me receiving that bag. . .’ You thought to yourself as you arranged the items to avoid ruining your bag.

Satoru snapped out of his trance when the sound of your shuffling stopped. Your head slightly hung low as you stared at the bag with flat palms. You sighed with your head shaking side to side. You decided to break the silence to ease the tense air in your room.

“I didn’t know you did last-minute shopping, Satoru. Guessing how full that bag is, it’s your Christmas present to your girlfriend. You love spoiling your girlfriends with endless money to burn. Keep doing that, and you’ll go broke, dude. . . Lucky her. . .” You slipped the last part out under your breath. Your smile dropped briefly before returning, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Satoru.

However, you remembered Satoru had excellent hearing. He could pick out of the faintest of whispers. When you realize that, you panicked and faced him. From how his brows were raised, you knew he definitely heard it. Your brain scrambled to find a way to cover the creaks in your walls from your slip-up, causing you to speak up. What you didn’t expect was Satoru doing the same.

“Sorry, Satoru, I didn’t mean that–”

“(Y/N), I need to–”

After catching each other’s words, you both abruptly stop to give space for the other to talk. Satoru gestures for you to go first. Gentleman as every. Feeling the anxiety and embarrassment weighing on you, you didn’t dare to look at him when talking, so your head focused back on your bag.

“Look, Satoru. . . I know how immature this is, but I want to apologize for the sudden change in my behavior and distance over the last few weeks. It was uncalled for, and you deserved a proper answer.–”

“No.”

“It’s because– huh?”

Prompting you to look up at Satoru, to which he had an unreadable expression. His glasses were blocking the creases of his eyes to indicate any of his emotions. A chill of uneasiness ran up your spine when you saw the serious look on Satoru’s face. He walks over to you with his hands in his pockets as he stares down, his expression unchanged.

“No, I need you to hear me out.”

Satoru cut off any chance for you to speak because he and you would be done if you did. He knew if he didn’t find you before Christmas Eve, what you two had would cease to exist. Once winter break ends and school resumes, he and you would be in two separate worlds. Ultimately becoming strangers who once knew each other. The thought of it made him nauseous and clammy to the core. You were the sun that shined in his endless cerulean sky. The moon and stars that gave illuminated his night sky. You gave light to the vast numbness he’d endured for all he could remember. You were the light he had been longing for years. And he was going to lose it all because he was a coward who didn’t have the balls to admit it and used dating as a coping mechanism to fill the hole in his heart. So it’s now or never for him to be vulnerable to you because he feared this was his last chance.

“I know you didn’t mean to distance yourself from me at all. I know you still cared about me and didn’t want to push me away for fear of humiliating yourself. Being me, I didn’t notice at first that you were hurting until you uprooted yourself from my life, and it’s been god-awful without you. . . I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

The genuine sincerity in his eyes as they bore into yours. You noticed that. It came straight out of Satoru Gojo, not from the egotistical, pompous, popular senior, but from your best friend. So you decided to up your ears to what he has to say. When you gave him your undivided attention, Satoru knew this was it, so he spilled it out.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t really appreciated your presence. I took you for granted because I thought you would always be with me, with no chance of leaving me. That bit me in the ass once you slowly stopped being with me. But I know there’s more: the mixed signals I gave off, the playboy attitude, and the lack of self-awareness I had for myself. It was a way for me to not confront the crimpling loneliness and numbness I’ve been having. I indulge in my fangirls and causal relationships, hoping it would fix it. But it was just a temporary solution to a long-term problem. I saw the girls as a means to get my mind away from it, and the girls get to be with the famous Satoru Gojo. . . I’ve done this song and dance for so long that it was a part of my routine. . .”

“Oh, Toru. . .”

God, he missed that nickname you gave him. The way it rolls off your tongue in any tone, it’s seared into his memory and mind. When people, especially his ‘girlfriends,’ try to use that same nickname on him, it fills him with unexplainable rage. That name was for you to use on him, not them. They didn’t have a place in his heart like you do, so he always corrected them to minimize the usage of that nickname. But when you said it, it was soft and tender like the snow falling outside. He knew he was getting to you, and it was working. He relaxes as he closes his eyes, only to open them when your hand gently holds his cheek. Thumb swiping it in a comforting manner. You wanted to say something so Satoru didn’t have to do all the work. For him to admit, he took down all his walls so you could see all of him. To you, it was a privilege and honor to see such vulnerability coming from an individual who was charismatic and oozing with unspeakable rizz. So you continue to listen patiently to see what point your famous friend is making.

“But you disrupted the routine, (Y/N). . . When you came, it felt like I didn’t have to do that anymore. You made me feel free and alive. Allowing me to be my authentic self around our group or just the two of us. But most of all, you made me savor each moment I shared with Suguru, Shoko, and you. I always cherished what I had with them. I cherish what I have had with you over the time I’ve known you. I always did. Maybe that’s why the moon and stars shine brighter when I tell them about you. They know how brightly you shine in the endless sea of regular people. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to admit you already had my heart. . . And in doing so, I hurt you in ways I couldn’t have imagined. . . I am so sorry I had to make you wait so long, (Y/N).”

You hadn’t realized your tears were cascading down the curves of your cheeks. Was this really happening? Did Satoru just confess to you? You think this is all too good to be true, a scenario you conjured up to cope with hopeless romantic delusions. But his voice was full of raw fondness. His face had this lovesick expression, and his eyes bore sheer devotion as his tears were caught in his eyelashes. He really did feel the same way after all. He would’ve resumed pouring his heart and soul out if you hadn’t firmly pulled him into a tight hug.

Though caught off guard by the gesture, he warmly welcomed it as he returned the action. Tears wet his shirt as you clung to his chest. Satoru lightly kissed your head before cradling it like it was the most fragile thing in the universe. The once-thick tension disappeared, and a comforting warmth blanketed the two of you in its place. You two dared not to pull away, taking in the moment that has caused mental gymnastics for both of you. Eventually, someone had to pull away, and it would be you. You smiled so warmly at him with love-filled eyes. You wipe away Satoru’s tears that continue to fall and hit his glasses.

“. . . I love you too, Satoru. I should also apologize because I didn’t communicate my feelings to you. I was scared of how you would react to my confession. I didn’t want to lose what we had, nor did I want to pressure you into saying yes to spare me the heartache. I also didn’t know how to act when I was with you, and I feared I would look stupid. I shouldn’t have thought the only solution was to cut myself out of your life. Though these are my explanations, they don’t justify my excuses. Please forgive me, Satoru.”

“All is forgiven, Sweetheart. Will you forgive me, too?”

“Of course, Satoru. . .”

Satoru starts to dip his head as you both smile at each other. You were going to let it happen, but a thought came across your mind as you softly stopped Satoru’s head. With a pout, Satoru would ask what was wrong before he was faced with a panicked look.

“Satoru! What about your girlfriend?!”

Satoru blankly stares at you before he starts to chuckle quietly. You were truly a kind person.

“Satoru! I’m being serious! Stop laughing!”

“Oh my dear, (Y/N). You truly have a kind and caring heart. I promise you I’m not cheating on her, nor are you homewrecking. She texted me she found someone else and ghosted me right after. I’m all yours, baby~.”

Satoru waves his hand as he pulls out his phone to show you the proof, as you have always been skeptical of his words. Once you visibly relax, your gaze returns to the big shopping bag Satoru carried around. He already knew what you were going to ask and had an answer.

“Why don’t you take a look and open it yourself, (Y/N)? You did say the bag was my Christmas present for my girlfriend~.”

Your face heats up as Satoru retrieves your Christmas present. He holds it out, and you slowly take it from him. His grin becomes a soft smile at the reaction to the gifts in the bag. You squealed at the massively cute plushie as you gave it a happy squeeze. You gasped and were awed when you pulled out the jacket/sweater, gleefully trying it on.

“Give me a twirl, Love.” On command, you spin yourself so he can see how it captures your figure. Anything does look good on you in his eyes.

“I thought this was sold out, Toru! How did you get your hands on this?!”

“I have my ways. Now open your last gift.”

You go to open your last gift, and how your mouth was opened reassured Satoru that he was the best gift giver in the world. Fingers delicately hold up (favorite jewelry), observing the glow and reflection it gave off. It was gorgeous and unique as it had (favorite gemstone) being the main centerpiece. Only the best for you.

“Satoru, you still remember this?”

“Of course I did!”

“But that was over three months ago. . .”

“I know, (Y/N). But the way your eyes lingered on it when we went to the mall, I always noted it. Plus, I thought it suited you the best, so I had to buy it.”

“Oh, how sweet of you, Satoru. Thank you for the Christmas present. I really love them.”

After returning your gifts to their bag, you walked to your dresser to fish something out. Satoru watches curiously as you pull out a crumpled paper bag. Satoru eyes widened as you handed the bag to him.

“ While they are Christmas gifts, they are technically your birthday gifts. I would’ve given them on your birthday but chickened out when I found out you had a girlfriend. So Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday, Satoru. They may not be as good as your gifts, but it’s something, right?”

You offer a smile as Satoru opens his gifts. You giggled at his extravagant reactions, praising and adoring his Agumon bracelet that he instantly wore on his wrist proudly. He pulls out the other gift and is shocked to see the drawings of him. The frame fits in his hands as he analyzes each sketch of himself. The detail and precision that went into each told Satoru you took the time and energy to draw him. But it also made him giddy as he looked extremely handsome and good-looking in each of the drawings. It caused him to blush when he realized this was how you see him through your eyes. As he was looking at your drawing page, he noticed the frame’s stand was attached to its sides.

Turning it around, he saw another drawing on the other side. But this sketch made Satoru’s heart beat out of his chest. The page contains only one illustration of two people walking with smiles. However, those two were him and you walking, smiling at each other, and holding each other’s hands. Satoru’s silence did concern you for a bit, but it was shattered when Satoru went in steadfastly to seal the gap between your lips. Your initial shock wore off before you let him reciprocate his kiss. You can feel his soft and smooth lips; he needs to give you his lip care routine. After parting, Satoru leans his head against yours, his arms not unraveling from you.

“No, they are wonderful gifts. Thank you, (Y/N). I love them. . . and I love you.”

“I love you too, Satoru~.”

Basking in each other’s warmth, eliminating the cold and gloomy atmosphere from outside. As much as you wanted to stay together a little longer, the campus would close soon for the rest of the break, and you must leave quickly. You didn’t want to leave Satoru yet, so you tried to extend it as much as possible.

“Hey, Satoru? Can you walk me home? The forecast said the snow will pick up tonight, and I don’t want to go home alone.”

Satoru gives his classic grin before kissing your forehead sweetly.

“I would love to, Sweetheart. I’ll carry your bags while you can hold the umbrella.”

The snow continues to softly fall as the two of you walk along the bustling streets of Tokyo. Although the white puff clouds appeared every time someone spoke and the tips of Satoru’s face were bright red, Satoru never paid attention to the frigid temperatures. Even in this cold white winter, he can see that your bright aura always gave a comforting warmth he yearned for. Making you stand out amongst the sea of passersby, the bright neon lights of Tokyo, and the white dots that continue to cover the city.

The light that shines and gives light to his dull Cerulean sky. Satoru’s world wasn’t grey anymore as he had finally found his light, you.

Bonus:

—A few days later—

“You think they made up, Sugs?”

“Honestly, I hope they do. If not, we’re fucked, Shoko.”

It had been a few days since Shoko and Suguru had last heard from you and Satoru. Neither has responded to your texts as often as usual, making the two nervous. Then Suguru proposed a hangout before New Year's Eve. He didn’t add it in the group chat because he was unaware of the situation. Opting to ask you two individually instead. Even though you two responded, he was unsure if the storm between you two passed over or was still raging on.

However, his initial worries would be meaningless soon enough. As Shoko and Suguru were taking a drag at the meet-up spot, they spotted two figures approaching them. Squinting their eyes to get a better look, they recognized that it was you and Satoru. Their eyes traveled down a bit to see both your hands intertwine. The love that came from Satoru’s smile and your eyes told them everything.

Though the two smiled and high-fived each other, Suguru grinned ear to ear, which earned a frustrated sigh from Shoko. She then reaches into her coat to fish out her wallet.

“I guess I win, Shoko. Hand over that $25 Visa gift card, please?”

485 notes · View notes

bradshawsbaby · 11 months

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Letters to My Love // Part IX

Dream A Little Dream Of Me

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Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Summary: When you signed up to volunteer with the USO, you never anticipated that you would meet a man like Ensign Robert Floyd. Fate brings you together one balmy spring evening in Charleston—the night before Bob is set to ship off across the Atlantic. Pen and paper become your only means of sharing your heart with the naval aviator who’s captivated it, igniting a correspondence that spans the distance between you. Can love blossom even as war rages and thousands of miles keep you apart?

Word Count: 3.2k

Author’s Note: Bobby and Peach’s story continues! Hope you all enjoy this latest installment!

Set the Mood: If you’re looking for some 1940s vibes, check out the playlist I made to pair with the story.

The title of this chapter comes from the popular song of the same name. Click here to listen to the first ever recording of the song from 1931!

Dedication: As always, this story is dedicated to my dear friend, @luminousnotmatter. Clara, thank you, thank you, thank you for your support of this story!

Warnings: Alternating POV, allusions to the physical and emotional cost of war, lots of sweet fluff.

April 28, 1943

Dearest Peach (or is it Cookie now?),

I have to tell you, this game of tag might just be the best version of the game I’ve ever played. I sure was surprised—and pleased, believe me—when I opened your last letter to find another photograph inside. The other fellas on the carrier are starting to grumble about how they hardly ever get photos from their girls back home, so you’ve managed to make me quite a big shot around here. Tommy Boy told me just the other day that word’s spreading about how “Floyd’s always getting these pictures from a pretty girl back stateside.” In all honesty, I think they’re just shocked that a gal as pretty as you would be writing to a boring guy from the sticks like me.

Now I don’t want you to think I’m gloating or anything when you send me photos, Peach—although your pretty face DOES deserve to be on billboards, in my humble opinion. It’s just that carriers are smaller than you’d think, in terms of news spreading around, It doesn’t help matters that Benny is always looking over my shoulder during Mail Call, and that when I opened your most recent letter, he stood up on our bench and shouted “Bobby Boy’s got another picture, fellas!” Don’t you worry, though. I tucked your photo into my pocket, right over my heart, and wouldn’t let any of the others see it, no matter how much they begged. Serves them right for being so nosy.

All that to say, it’s a wonderful picture and it brought a big old smile to my face to see how happy you all looked at Christmastime. Please send my highest compliments to Dottie. You and your sister look so much alike, you could both be Hollywood starlets. I especially love your matching smiles—prettier than the angel on top of the Christmas tree. And Frankie is the spitting image of Paddy, my goodness! It’s funny, Paul, Jr. looks just like Paul, too. Maybe the boys will both grow up and go to Annapolis together. You know, following in their fathers’ footsteps and all that. Wouldn’t that be something if they both joined the Navy one day?

Speaking of us “squids,” as our Marine brothers are so wont to call us, I’m glad to hear that you enjoyed the photos that I sent with my last letter. Tommy Boy and Benny have been bragging to anyone who will listen that you have our pictures displayed on your desk. I made the mistake of letting them know that you think they’re very handsome, but don’t worry, I kept it just between us that you think I’m the most handsome. They’re good guys and I wouldn’t want to go bruising their egos or anything like that.

Mike is the name of the fella on board who has the camera and took the pictures for us. He’s hoping he can get his hands on some more film soon so that he can take some more photographs while we’re over here. He likes to send them back home to his fiancee in Arkansas. He’s a solid guy, Mike is. He even told me he’d be happy to take some more pictures for me to send to you when he’s able to—if you’d like that, that is.

I’m glad to know that you don’t mind me writing a little bit about you to my family. I received a letter from my mother the same day I received your letter, and she said you sound like the loveliest girl and that you’re more than welcome on the Floyd farm anytime you happen to find yourself in Linn County, Iowa. When I was writing back to her, I didn’t have the heart to tell her that nobody just so happens to find themselves in Linn County, Iowa. But the offer still stands! My mama would be more than happy to bake you all the pumpkin pies your heart desires. And she’d be more than happy to hear about that peach cobbler recipe, too!

Paul wanted me to tell you that you have no reason to be embarrassed about the punch spill, and that, in fact, you should put it out of your mind completely. He’s sitting across me from right now as I write this, writing his own letter back home to Natasha and the kids. Clara’s just learning to recognize her letters and read some basic words, and Paul, Jr. can’t read at all yet of course, so Paul includes little drawings for them when he writes. Natasha says they love them, and that Clara always carries his letters around when they’re running errands to show off to all the neighbors. “Look at Daddy’s pictures!” she tells them. He really is a good artist, you know. One of these days, I’m going to have him draw something for you. Anything in particular you’d like to see?

Oh, please don’t be embarrassed about my overhearing that conversation! That’s the last thing I want you to feel. You have no reason to be embarrassed, Peach. If anything, it’s that Eddie guy who should feel embarrassed for doing that to a lady. But like you—and Dottie—said, everything happens for a reason. I believe that, too. And I believe that good things can come out of even the worst circumstances. Take this war, for example. It’s awful. There’s no sugarcoating it or making it sound better than it is. It’s just plain awful. In the time I’ve been over here, I’ve seen and heard things that I’ll never be able to forget, things that make you question how human beings can do such things to one another. But I’ve also seen instances of such heroism and bravery, of people doing all they can to stick their necks out for each other and see each other home safely, and I think that that’s got to count for something, too. Don’t you think so, Peach? I know you’re all doing your part back home, too, and that means the world to us over here. We can feel it, and we appreciate it more than you can know. So you see? Good things can still come out of the hard times.

Like you and me meeting, for another thing. I can’t say that I’m grateful for this war, but I am thankful that it brought us together and allowed our paths to cross that night in Charleston. I’ll always be thankful for that, Peach. Not a day goes by that I don’t count my lucky stars that Paul finally convinced me to go to that dance that night. It was the last place in the world I wanted to be, but it turned out to be just the place I needed to be. Everything happens for a reason, right?

Speaking of that night at the dance, I had a dream the other night about dancing with you, Peach. We were at the USO dance at first, but then we were suddenly on the beach. As a farm boy from Iowa, you can imagine that I haven’t spent much time on the beach in my lifetime. But I suppose my subconscious remembers all the beaches I saw in Charleston, because there we were, dancing in the sand while the waves were crashing in. Do you like going to the beach? Like I said, there’s none in landlocked Iowa, but I’d be more than happy to let you be my tour guide when it comes to the best beaches South Carolina and Georgia have to offer.

It’s funny, I don’t usually remember my dreams, but I remember that one quite vividly. I woke up thinking I could still taste saltwater on my tongue and feel you in my arms. Maybe that sounds a little silly, but it’s true. It was the best dream I’ve ever had, I’m sure of it.

It does sound like little Frankie is quite the mischief-maker! Hiding keys already? Something tells me he’s going to give Dottie and Paddy a run for their money when he gets older! From everything you’ve told me, I really do think he and Paul, Jr. would make the best of friends. I imagine the two of them would get into even more mischief than Paul and I did when we were growing up!

Gosh, I wish more than anything that I could be there dancing with you, Peach. But I’m holding the thought of you dancing to “We’ll Meet Again” real close to my heart until we really can meet again. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to hear that song without thinking of you now.

Please do keep me updated on your Victory Garden efforts! I’m looking forward to hearing all about it. Believe me, no one could have a browner thumb than me—just ask Paul, Natasha, and pretty much my entire family—so I’m sure you and Dottie will do a wonderful job!

And Happy Belated Easter, Peach! I hope you had a lovely day with your family. We actually had a bit of exciting news that reached us on Easter Sunday. The Royal Navy sent word that they managed to sink a German U-boat off the coast of [REDACTED], which is hopefully a good sign for all the rest of us. I hope this war comes to an end soon. It feels like we’ve been fighting forever.

I hope that the South Carolina sunshine is treating you right, and that you’re safe and well. I can’t wait until your next letter arrives (I’ll try to keep Benny from looking over my shoulder next time).

Most Truly Yours,

Bobby

May 24, 1943

My Dear Bobby,

Don’t worry, it’s still Peach to you, and it always will be. Frankie is learning so many new words every day that I’m sure I’ll only be Aunt Cookie for a little while longer. But I’d like to stay Peach for a good long while, if that’s alright with you.

I’m sorry to disappoint all the fellas on the carrier—particularly Benny—by not including any new photographs with this letter. I’ll try to amend that next time. But I absolutely do not believe that it should come as any kind of shock to anyone that you and I write to one another, Bobby. Boring? Who would dare call you boring? I’ll not have you talking about yourself like that, Robert Floyd, do you hear me? I could just as easily say that the people back in Charleston would be shocked to learn that a handsome naval aviator is writing to a girl as shy and mousey as me, but I know you wouldn’t like that. Just like I don’t like hearing you talk badly about yourself. So let’s promise one another we won’t do that anymore, hm?

Dottie sends profuse thanks for your sweet words about the Christmas photo—she actually blushed when I told her what you’d written! And I could tell that Paddy was all puffed up with pride when I told him that you thought Frankie looked just like him. Dottie agrees with you wholeheartedly, by the way. “Both my boys are so handsome!” she declared. I think Paddy blushed a little bit at that, though he’d never admit it.

My goodness, imagine Frankie and Paul, Jr. both joining the Navy when they’re older? I think you’re quite right that they’d make excellent friends—but heaven help the Navy with the double trouble those two would bring with all their mischief-making!

By the way, I asked Paddy about that nickname you said the Marines like to use—squids? I’ve never seen my brother-in-law turn so red so fast! “Oh, what do they know?” he demanded, waving his hands in the air. “They’re just a bunch of jarheads!” Squids? Jarheads? I never realized there was such a rivalry between you! No wonder the sailors and the Marines seem to stay on opposite sides of the room whenever the USO hosts an event! I hope you know that I don’t think you’re a squid, Bobby. But if you were, you’d be the cutest squid in the seven seas.

You’re very considerate not to bruise Tommy Boy’s and Benny’s egos, so thank you very much for keeping our little secret. Emily came over the other day—she’s still so excited about the wedding and she wanted me to help her go over some details—and she saw the pictures of you and the boys on my desk. She remembered Paul from the night of the dance, and she thought the rest of you looked familiar, too. She said to pass along her best wishes, and I passed along your congratulations on her and Eddie’s engagement. I hope you don’t mind.

That’s very sweet of your friend, Mike to offer to take more photos for you! Of course I’d love for you to send more, if you’re able to! Being able to see that you’re okay, even with all the miles and a war between us, makes me so happy.

Your mama is most generous and kind to extend that invitation! While I can’t say that I have any reason to be in Linn County, Iowa at the moment, I will be certain to look up the Floyd family farm if ever I should happen to be in town. And please let your mama—and all of your family—know that, should they ever find themselves in Charleston, South Carolina, the Sheridan residence is always open to them. Your mama and I can swap recipes. I know Dottie would love that.

I couldn’t help smiling from ear to ear when I read the part of your letter where you talked about Paul’s drawings for Clara and Paul, Jr.! What a wonderful father he is! And an artist, too? I’m very impressed! Not to mention thankful to him for his unending kindness. I can see why the two of you are the best of friends—you both have the same good hearts. Hmm, now as for what kind of drawing I would like, I suppose that would depend on what Paul specializes in. Does he do portraits? In that case, I’d like to see him draw one of you. Does he draw cartoons? I can only imagine how he’d portray a conversation between Tommy Boy and Benny. If neither of those, then perhaps Paul can draw me some peaches—I always think of you now, Bobby, whenever I eat them.

Oh, Bobby. Yes, I do believe it counts for something when people try to hold onto their goodness in the midst of so much evil and bad. We know so little of what you’re facing over there beyond the small bits that we read in the newspaper or hear on the radio. I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like to be living in it every day. I wish that I could hold you tight and make all the bad memories go away. But since I can’t, I’m glad to know that you’re able to find the glimpses of good where you can.

Without a doubt, everything happens for a reason, and I believe there’s a reason that you and I met that night, Bobby. Maybe a reason that’s bigger than you and I can ever understand. I’m grateful that our paths crossed, too. So, so grateful. I know this might sound silly considering we’ve only actually been together in person for a few hours, but you’ve helped me come out of my shell more than you can know. I’ve always been so shy, Bobby. Painfully so. It’s not easy for me to talk to new people, or people that I don’t know very well. It’s especially not easy for me to talk to handsome boys like you. But that night at the dance and during our walk on King Street—you made me feel seen, Bobby. And heard. Hardly anyone outside my family has ever made me feel that way. And then we started writing letters to each other and you’ve just been so easy to talk to, so easy to share my heart with. Thank you for that, Bobby. It means more to me than you can possibly imagine. So yes, I thank my lucky stars for that night, too.

Did you really have a dream about me? I’m blushing to think so, but now I don’t feel so shy to tell you that I’ve dreamed about you, too. In my dream, we were back at the ice cream parlor on King Street, sharing an ice cream sundae with lots of whipped cream and cherries on top. When you come home, we’ll have to take a drive to Folly Beach and get ice cream on the pier. I’ll be counting down the days until it happens!

Now speaking of our Victory Garden, Dottie and I are quite proud of the effort we put in this year! You’d think the two of us were a couple of regular old farm girls. We spent about a week or so clearing out the beds from last year and resoiling them. One of our neighbors, Mrs. Patterson had a beautiful garden last year, so she gave us a lot of helpful advice. We ended up planting beans, carrots, cucumbers, and tomatoes. It’s still a little too early to tell how they’ll end up, but they look promising so far! I think you’d be proud of us!

Things here on the homefront have been a little tricky as of late. I’m not sure if word has gotten over to you boys across the Atlantic, but some of the coal miners went on strike last month. It caused a bit of a crisis with regard to production and manufacturing. President Roosevelt delivered a fireside chat discussing the crisis earlier this month. He tried to remind all of us that it’s our patriotic duty to continue working and to do what we can for the war effort. I think Paddy was a bit worried about it, but the government has since taken control of the coal mines, and so we haven’t heard much more about it.

I want so badly to do my part for the war effort, Bobby. I think of you and Paul and Tommy Boy and Benny and all the others, risking your lives across the ocean to defend all of us back home. I want to do something, no matter how small, that can contribute and make a difference. There have been lots of women going to work in the factories ever since we entered the war. Some of them are filling their husbands’ and brothers’ positions while they’re off fighting. Paddy mentioned that they’re actually looking to fill civilian positions at Naval Air Station Charleston. It’s harder because of the background checks required, but I’d have a leg up, being Paddy’s sister-in-law. I’ve been thinking about asking Paddy to help me apply for a position. Do you think I should, Bobby? If it could be of any help to you and all the other men, I’d really like to give it a try. What do you think?

That’s wonderful news about the Royal Navy! Every time I hear about the Allies pushing further into Europe, or defeating our enemies in some way, it gives me a thrill of hope that maybe this all really will be over soon. I hope so, Bobby. I really hope so.

Even though there’s a few thousand miles between us, I hope you can feel all the good thoughts I’m sending your way. I can’t wait until I get your next letter. I always look forward to them.

Until next time, Bobby!

Most Affectionately Yours,

Peach

TAGLIST: @teacupsandtopgun @saturnsbabe69 @gigisimsonmars @marchingicenotes7 @high-speed-r @toobouquet @up-thereinthesky @lostinthefandoms11 @strangerparks @sweetwhispersofchaos

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman #WWII AU #1940s AU

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hotwaterandmilk · 1 year

Text

From now until April 2nd 2023 Fujii Mihona will be selling a variety of things on her BOOTH page as part of the virtual event, NEOKET4. Featured in this pretty solid line up are a variety of physical items from GALS!! and Ryuu-ou Mahoujin such as mirrors, acrylic keyholders, acrylic stands, t-shirts, can badges, tapestries, pillows, and more (including an umbrella which sold out almost instantly).

Now this brings us to the digital works Fujii-sensei is releasing;

An original GALS!! anthology (which is more like a one-shot)

A Ryuu-ou Mahoujin prologue which begins the Chi no Maki arc (with the series gaining an "official" English-language name for the first time, Magic Circle of the Dragon Kings).

Interestingly the description for the GALS!! anthology states in English that it will be receiving an English translation in the future with news to come so stay tuned, I guess!

At this stage there are no plans to release these digital works in a physical form, but if these plans change they will be announced through Fujii's official channels.

All NEOKET4 releases from Fujii Mihona's "Studio Mihonacchi" circle are available for a limited time only, with sales ending April 2nd, so please get in quick if you'd like to order (I think at this point it's way too late to bother saying she was manning her own digital stall this evening, as it's all over... but she was at one point which is awesome).

I had already ordered the one thing I definitely had to buy from this event, which was the Rino acrylic stand (I have a soft spot for Ryuu-ou Mahoujin) but I'll probably also get the digital manga as I really want to check out Ran with dark hair in the GALS!! anthology and omg am I ever keen to read more Ryuu-ou Mahoujin.

Anyway I don't have a lot of insight on this event or these items on a Friday night, I just thought I should give them a quick shout-out because I am always down for a popular 90s Ribon artist to make some noise on Pixiv/BOOTH!

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mediocre-daydreams · 2 years

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EE WHAT ABT STEVE TRYING TO FLIRT WITH READER HUT READER IS CLUELESS

i don't usually write for steve so i thought this was going to be hard BUT once i came up with this concept i knew i had to go all out so here's this unintentionally long one-shot!!

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐝

steve rogers x avenger! reader

summary: steve asks bucky for dating advice, and bucky tells him the 3 steps that helped him get dates in the 40s. emphasis on the 40s.

w/c: 3.1k

notes: fluff (a sprinkle of "angst" but not really), misunderstandings to lovers, stupid steve and reader, swearing, slut shaming (not from a character, mentioned in order to define a word), bad dating advice, mention of nudity in a non-sexual context, use of y/n like 2 times (i'm so sorry i always try not to but it was so hard)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“you’re captain america, steve. you gotta be real dense to turn down america’s ass,” bucky sighed, massaging his temples. this was the umpteenth time that steve had begged him for advice.

“first of all, language. second of all, you were real popular with the gals—and guys—in the 40s. c’mon, don’t hold back on me. just… what would you have done?”

“i have to warn you steve, dames these days are much different than back then. but if you must know, these are the three steps i’d take before asking a girl out…

step one: butter her up

steve was admiring you from a distance, his head tilted and his eyes soft as he watched your teeth peek through your smile as you chatted with wanda, the two of you cozied up on a couch.

bucky’s words had been replaying in his head ever since they’d had that conversation. steve (and bucky) was sick of the pining. captain america was known for leaping into action (sometimes carelessly, like when he’d jumped out of an airplane without a parachute), so why couldn’t steve rogers?

no more overthinking, steve decided, steeling his jaw. i’m going to walk up to her right now and flirt with her. right now. i just need to get out of my seat and take a couple steps and open my mouth and flirt. as in, speaking in a romantic fashion.

wanda’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “wait, you went on a date last week, right?”

you laughed loudly. “oh my god, i totally forgot to tell you!” steve’s stomach sank. “it was terrible!”

steve released a breath of relief. he still had a chance.

you began your story enthusiastically. “first, he didn’t even meet me at the door. or pull up to the driveway! apparently, he didn’t want to go through security, so he just parked on the road and texted me.” wanda nodded sympathetically

“and then, he was blasting this obscene music, y’know, the kind where it’s just dick measuring and slut shaming in song form.”

steve wanted to call you out on your language, but then you’d know he was eavesdropping coincidentally in the room and able to hear your conversation.

“he wouldn’t even turn it off when i asked! so we drove to this cute restaurant, right? i was like, ‘maybe he’ll get better.’ he did a great parallel park though. anyways, he got out ‘cause his door was facing the sidewalk, and he didn’t open my door or anything, which is fine i suppose—it’s the 21st century and i can open my own doors, but it would’ve been nice. but then he ended up going into the restaurant by himself! he just left me on the street!”

steve was appalled. did modern men have no decency? you deserved so much better. if he could just work up the nerve to go talk to you…

“-he was so rude to the waiter and then he didn’t even leave a tip! by then, i told him to go home by himself and i apologized and whatnot and just ubered. it was so embarrassing.”

steve’s knuckles were white as his hands curled into fists at his side. not only was this man disrespectful, he was in no way worthy of a bat of your eyelashes, much less an entire date.

steve finally found the nerve to push himself off his seat. “i’m sorry, i couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” he confessed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. you smiled in a way that made his heart race, and motioned for him to sit with the two of you. he settled a good two feet away from you and wanda, not wanting to be seen as promiscuous. he watched as you frowned slightly. was he still sitting too closely? steve scooted a couple inches further.

“in the 40s, that’d be extremely improper,” he shook his head disapprovingly. “what is it that people say nowadays? chivalry is dead?”

“yeah, it is,” wanda giggled, “but preferably, i’d like to be able to say chivalry isn’t dead. i could probably count on one hand the number of dates i’ve gone on where that’s true.”

you could hear the quick pitter patter of footsteps emerge from the hallway; natasha’s blonde hair bobbed around her shoulders as she slid into an armchair across from the three of you. “are we talking about shitty dates?” she leaned in eagerly.

“language!” but steve still laughed alongside the group, knowing that his comment had become somewhat of a joke between the team, though that didn’t mean he was about to stop anytime soon.

natasha rolled her eyes. “in terms of shitty dates, didn’t you just go on one?” natasha looked at you pointedly before her eyes flickered over to steve, who was suddenly very interested in the ceiling.

“yeah, i did,” you tutted. “i’ll tell you about it later, though. i think i’ve spent long enough discussing my failed romantic endavours for one afternoon.”

“i’m sorry, that’s so-” steve looked genuinely apologetic for you, and you smiled at how much he seemed to care. “well, i imagine it gets discouraging after a while.” i know the feeling very well.

you grumbled. “i swear, all men want these days is to get in your pants.” you paused thoughtfully. “well, with a couple exceptions, i guess.”

steve’s eyebrows furrowed. “a pretty broad such as yourself-”

“excuse me?” you narrowed your eyes at him. “what did you just say?”

“well, i called you pretty, i suppose-”

you scoffed. “no, did you just call me a broad? goddamnit steve, when i said there were exceptions, i thought that you were one of them. i guess i should’ve known better. you can pretend that all your 40s bullshit makes you a ‘gentleman,’ but in the end, it turns out you’re just as sexist as every man of your time, and just as much of a chauvanistic pig as every other man these days.” you fumed out of the room.

steve was incredulous. “whaaaat…?

“you better hope you were just being clueless, otherwise i’m going to bash your brains in,” wanda gritted her teeth.

“i don’t- i don’t understand? what did i do wrong?”

natasha cursed under her breath. she met steve’s eyes, unimpressed by his little confusion stunt. “calling someone a broad is like calling someone a whore. y’know, saying they’re an easy fuck or whatever. shouldn’t you know this? it was like, a butcher’s term in the 30s; a slab of meat with a hole in it. you following me?”

steve’s mouth was perfectly shaped in an o and his eyes had widened into big, glassy circles as well. “holy shit. i’m such an idiot.”

wanda raised her eyebrows at natasha. “he just cursed.”

“yeah, he fucking did. you must like her more than i thought.”

steve blushed furiously. “i- i don’t like her! i just didn’t know- we used to call all women br- that, back in the day. i- oh god, i don’t know what to do. i don’t want her to think that i-” steve buried his face in his hands. his voice was muffled. “what do i do?”

“you’re actually so helpless,” wanda groaned. “nat, do you think we should help him, or let him suffer?”

natasha squinted contemplatively. “eh, all men deserve to suffer. but we might as well. y/n deserves better than some clueless lump.”

step two: get her parents’ blessing

“y’wanna to talk to her parents?” wanda looked at steve like his skin had turned purple. “her parents are dead, steve.”

“oh.”

“yeah, oh. does anyone in this compound still have parents anyway? i mean, most of us have sob stories and whatnot, you and bucky are a hundred, bucky murdered steve’s parents, natasha was kidnapped as a child…” wanda prattled, having completely lost interest in steve’s predicament.

“well, it’s just the proper thing to do. i already made a huge mistake by calling her something offensive, and back in the day, you always have to talk dame’s parents before starting to court them. does she have any parental figures at all? anyone that i could talk to?”

natasha hummed. “what about tony? he was the one who approved her application, after all. he’s always had a soft spot for her.”

steve broke into a grin. “thank you, natasha! this is perfect. i was a little nervous there.” he rubbed his hands together to garner some confidence. “you know what? i’m going to go talk to tony right now.”

with a little skip in his step, steve rushed to the elevator and bounced on his heels as he waited for the door to open. wanda and natasha looked at each other hesitantly.

“should we get bucky?” natasha grimaced.

“… probably.”

steve found tony lounging on a balcony on one of the upper floors, flipping through a magazine that featured him on the front page. steve took a seat in one of the sunchairs next to tony, who didn’t even acknowledge him. steve cleared his throat.

“yes, capsicle?” tony kept reading his magazine.

“can i… talk to you about something? it’s important.”

tony rested his magazine on his chest and examined steve with a judgemental eye. “this better be good, ‘cause you’re interrupting my me-time.”

“okay, yeah. i’ll make it quick.” steve coughed. “i was wondering… do you know y/n?”

“y/n, as in agent y/n? as in the agent i personally recruited to the team and work with every day? yeah, i know y/n.”

“oh, okay, that’s good,” steve chuckled nervously. “i was wondering if i could… get your blessing to court her? see, i really like her and i think she’s beautiful—but not just that! she’s smart too, and thoughtful and determined, and i-”

tony choked back laughter, but it burst out of him anyway. he was clutching his stomach. “oh my- holy- what?” he grinned, taking off his yellow glasses like it would help him understand the situation better.

tony waved his glasses in the air and pointed them at steve’s chest. “you- what is this? what’s going on here?”

“um, i figured you were kind of a parental figure to her, and i’d like to pursue her romantically, but her parents aren’t, well, alive, so i thought i’d come to the next best person, but if you don’t see yourself as her parental figure, i can ask someone else, of course,” steve stammered.

“no, no. i’m just- wow. i wasn’t expecting this today. or ever… actually, maybe if morgan were ever to get married, but that’s a whole ‘nother thing. i don’t know what you want me to say, man.” tony slipped his glasses back on. “hypothetically, what would you do if i said no?”

“uh, i- i’d, well-”

“don’t get your panties in a twist, cap. sure, go for it. whatever. as long as i don’t have to see you again for the rest of the day. you’re blocking the sun.”

tony was right. steve was casting a shadow on tony. “right. o-okay, thank you. thank you very much.” steve walked indoors stiffly, and once out of sight of tony, he punched the air victoriously. step two, completed.

step three: ask her out

bucky, natasha, and wanda were waiting for steve in his room when he returned. the blonde supersoldier jumped at the sight of his three dedicated matchmakers conspiring on his bed.

“so, how’d it go?” wanda bounced eagerly on the mattress.

“good! tony said yes.”

natasha snorted. “no he didn’t. he told you to fuck off, didn’t he?”

steve pressed his lips together. “yeah.”

bucky clapped his hands and cleared his throat dramatically. “i believe this calls for step three: ask her out.”

steve sighed, sitting on the ground in front of his three cupids, seeing as they were taking up the entire mattress. he felt like he was on trial by three looming figures. “i don’t know. it’s not like we’ve exactly been speaking since… the incident.”

“riiiight. sorry about that one,” bucky shrugged,“i did warn you though. courting dames these days are different from back then.”

steve sighed. “it’s okay, buck. well, it’s not, but what’s done is done. so, how should i ask her out?”

natasha perked up. “as her if she listens to girl in red! oh, wait. nevermind.”

wanda elbowed her knowingly as bucky and steve stared, confused.

“ooo, you could take her out for drinks! bringing a guy to a bar is always a helpful first date. when they’re drunk, you can see how they really think. it helps weed out the bad ones,” wanda suggested.

“absolutely not. alcohol is completely improper for a first date! to be safe, you should never be intoxicated around a lady you’re courting until after the third date, perhaps,” steve insisted.

bucky nodded in agreement. “are there any interesting showings going on? steve and i went to the stark expo back in the 40s; i found him a date too. little stevie, all grown up. he’s out getting his own ladies now…” bucky wiped fake tears from his eyes.

wanda squinted at bucky judgementally. “we literally live with tony stark, i’m pretty sure taking her to a stark expo wouldn’t do much. it’d be kind of weird, actually.”

bucky’s eyes brightened as he came up with another idea. “okay, okay, nevermind. what if you take her dancing? it’s a classic first date.”

steve slowly nodded his head. “dancing… that’s a great idea! thank you, buck. should i ask her right now? i better, right? it’s already tuesday, and it’s only polite that you ask a dame out before wednesday… yes, i should get going now! thank you!” steve blabbed, scrambling to his feet as natasha called his name to no avail. steve was already gone.

steve, in his excitement, nearly slid past your door on his socks. he grabbed your doorknob just in time, hoping to steady himself so he could come see you with a bit more grace.

it turns out, your door wasn’t fully shut.

with a yelp, steve stumbled into your room. unable to find footing in time, he crumpled to the ground. when he looked up, he saw you by the bathroom door, holding a towel around your body with your hair all damp and tousled. he gulped.

“steve rogers, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” you seethed, storming over to him and kicking his leg. (your arms were currently in use.)

“i- i’m so sorry! i didn’t mean to come in, i didn’t realize you were busy, i can go now-”

“you didn’t mean to come in here? then what did you mean to do?” you paced, frustrated. “why is it that every time i see you, something goes wrong? why are you even here?”

“god, i’m so sorry, i meant to knock, but the door was unlocked and i’m so clumsy and i just fell- god, i’m sorry,” he repeated himself.

“well, you’re already here, aren’t you? so spit it out, what do you want? come to tell me that my uniform’s too skintight or some shit?”

steve looked down at his knees, which bounced up and down with anxiety. “no, nothing of that sort. and by the way, i’m sorry for that as well. for calling you… that. i didn’t realize- it was just a common word in the 40s. it was like another word for woman, i just- i was gonna say that you didn’t deserve to be treated the way that your date had treated you. i didn’t mean to insinuate all those things about you. i- i’m gonna be honest, i didn’t know what you were talking about. i internet-ed it later, y’know, about chauvanism and stuff, and i’m sorry. i was ignorant. you’re right, 40s etiquette doesn’t excuse me from my internalized misogyny. i read about that on the google as well.”

you raised your eyebrows in surprise. “steve,” you called. “steve.”

steve lifted his head to meet your gaze.

“it’s- well, thank you for going out of your way to learn about that. and apology accepted; i shouldn’t have snapped at you like that anyways and assumed that was your intention. i know you’d never think those things about a woman, i was just so caught up in my own head and i took it out on you. you’re a good man, steve. i’ve just been stubborn these past few days… it’s my pride, i guess, a flaw of mine,” you mumbled.

“no, you don’t have to apologize. it was a misunderstanding, i suppose. anyway, the reason i’m here is because i- uh, wanted to ask you to dance with me?”

you quirked your head at steve. “dance? right now? steve, i’m like, not wearing any clothes. my hands are pretty occupied.”

steve’s face turned red. “no! sorry, that was another miscommunication on my part. i mean like, ah, this is so stupid of me, i mean, would you like to go dancing with me, this weekend? as in, a date?”

your mouth parted and steve’s eyes flickered to your lips. then he mentally slapped himself in the face. you just learned about the objectification of women, steve rogers. stop fantasizing about her without her consent.

“a date? sorry, i don’t want to make any assumptions. do you mean a date, as in, romantically?”

steve nodded, all blushy as he fiddled with his hands.

“oh! i wasn’t expecting that, i thought that maybe-”

steve threw his hands in the air like he was surrendering. “please don’t feel obligated to say yes. the last thing i want to do is pressure you, and i know i’m springing this on you and you’re also… in a towel, which probably makes things awkward for you, but you can get back to me if you’d like, or you can say no as well, and i promise that nothing will change-”

“shut the fuck up steve; yes, i’d love to go dancing with you.”

steve didn’t correct your language. what he did do, though, was cover his mouth with his hands and let out an almost imperceptible squeal.

“i’m just gonna… get dressed. then we can figure out the details later?” you swayed bashfully, not meeting steve’s eye.

“yes! okay, yes. you go do that. come find me whenever you’re ready. no pressure.”

steve all but skipped up to bucky with the news. wanda and natasha crashed through your doorway with giddy screams.

“bucky, it worked! your three steps worked!”

“natasha, wanda! he finally asked me out! i should’ve known better, he’s not even the type of guy to swear, of course he’d never say something like that. eek!”

bucky grinned and patted steve’s back. “i don’t think it was the three steps, steve. i think that actually failed horrendously. it was all you, buddy.”

natasha shook her head, laughing. “for someone so smart, you’re stupid as fuck.”

wanda smirked. “i probably should’ve told you this earlier, but his thoughts about you are so loud that i don’t even have to read his mind to hear them. that boy has been pining after you for months.” wanda pouted innocently. “but it’s so much more fun to watch everyone suffer.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

marvel masterlist | main masterlist

taglist: (comment to be added!)

@bambamwolf87 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @yourallihave @cowboibeepbeep

#steve rogers x avenger! reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x reader fluff #steve rogers reader insert #steve rogers x you

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english-history-trip · 1 year

Text

Aldgate Pump: "The Pump of Death"

Watch these guys pump water. They seem unaware they are in the presence of the notorious “Pump of Death” In 1876, the water began to taste strange and was found to contain liquid human remains which had seeped into the underground stream from cemeteries.

Several hundred people died in the resultant Aldgate Pump Epidemic as a result of drinking polluted water – though this was obviously a distant memory by the nineteen twenties when Whittard’s tea merchants used to “always get the kettles filled at the Aldgate Pump so that only the purest water was used for tea tasting.”

Yet before it transferred to a supply from the New River Company of Islington, the spring water of the Aldgate Pump was appreciated by many for its abundant health-giving mineral salts, until – in an unexpectedly horrific development – it was discovered that the calcium in the water had leached from human bones.

This bizarre phenomenon quickly entered popular lore, so that a bouncing cheque was referred to as “a draught upon Aldgate Pump,” and in rhyming slang “Aldgate Pump” meant to be annoyed – “to get the hump.” The terrible revelation confirmed widespread morbid prejudice about the East End, of which Aldgate Pump was a landmark defining the beginning of the territory. The “Pump of Death” became emblematic of the perceived degradation of life in East London and it was once declared with superlative partiality that “East of Aldgate Pump, people cared for nothing but drink, vice and crime.”

Today this sturdy late-eighteenth century stone pump stands sentinel as the battered reminder of a former world, no longer functional, and lost amongst the traffic and recent developments of the modern City. No-one notices it anymore and its fearsome history is almost forgotten, despite the impressive provenance of this dignified ancient landmark, where all mileages East of London are calculated. Even in the old photographs you can trace how the venerable pump became marginalised, cut down and ultimately ignored. Aldgate Well was first mentioned in the thirteenth century – in the reign of King John – and referred to by sixteenth century historian, John Stowe, who described the execution of the Bailiff of Romford on the gibbet “near the well within Aldgate.” In “The Uncommercial Traveller,” Charles Dickens wrote, “My day’s business beckoned me to the East End of London, I had turned my face to that part of the compass… and had got past Aldgate Pump.” And before the “Pump of Death” incident, Music Hall composer Edgar Bateman nicknamed “The Shakespeare of Aldgate Pump,” wrote a comic song in celebration of Aldgate Pump – including the lyric line “I never shall forget the gal I met near Aldgate Pump…”

The pump was first installed upon the well head in the sixteenth century, and subsequently replaced in the eighteenth century by the gracefully tapered and rusticated Portland stone obelisk that stands today with a nineteenth century gabled capping. The most remarkable detail to survive to our day is the elegant brass spout in the form of a wolf’s head – still snarling ferociously in a vain attempt to maintain its “Pump of Death” reputation – put there to signify the last of these creatures to be shot outside the City of London.

Tantalisingly, the brass button that controls the water outlet is still there, yet, although it is irresistible to press it, the water ceased flowing in the last century. A drain remains beneath the spout where the stone is weathered from the action of water over centuries and there is an elegant wrought iron pump handle – enough details to convince me that the water might return one day.

-- "The Gentle Author", Spitalfields Life

#london #this blogger had updated with an interesting post about london life and history every day since 2009 #gonna get quite lost in there #victorians

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friendly-neighbourhood-spiderm4n · 2 years

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Was wondering if you’d be able to write an Eddie Munson one shot/imagine with Hoppers (Gn) kid. :)

A/N - Yes. Definitely. Absolutely. (I am currently binge watching Gravity Falls.)

“Hey, officer! We need to report a crime!” Jason, and two of his friends ran up to you. You knew they were some of the kids from the basketball team, considering when you tried to have a conversation with Lucas, it’s all he would talk about.

“Yeah? What is it?” You didn’t like him, he seemed like a popular douchebag.

“It’s Eddie! He’s dating someone thats as hot as you!” He was grinning, his two friends behind him laughing.

“Haha, you’re so fucking funny. Get out of here before I punch your fucking teeth out.”

“Officer! Relax, we’re just having fun. Did you forget what that is?” He still didn’t know how to fuck off, did he?

“I have more fun writing papers then your girlfriend could ever have riding your dick, cunt. Now screw off.” You walked away, leaving the stunned possum there to be mocked by his friends.

“What they want?” Dustin came up to you, and now walked alongside you.

“What do you think? They almost always mess with me. It started right after-“

“You arrested Jason cause you caught him underage drinking, I know. By the way, Eddie is looking for you, he wants to show you something.” Dusting grabbed you by the forearm and walked you somewhere.

“I’m guessing you know but you’re not going to tell me cause he told you keep it secret?”

“Yep.”

“Wonderful. How’s your mom doin’?”

“She’s fine, she’s nearly always fine unless she can’t find me.”

“Hey! Remember, I have to keep a close eye on everyone and their cats. Especially considering my dad was chief of police. I have a major role to step up too, and it’s not easy when everyone considers you a joke cause you’re barely out of high school.”

“I see where you’re coming from, but I feel like I may be the wrong person to complain to. Nancy would understand better than anyone.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m just frustrated is all. How’s hellfire doin’?”

“It’s going great. Mine and Mike’s costume shirts are almost done. Thanks for telling us about the club, we might’ve found out too late otherwise.”

“Nah, Eddie would’ve let you join, he likes you both. That and I would have convinced him to if he had told you no.”

“Yeah, cause we’re your favourite teenagers and you love us.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Henderson.” You watched in amusement as he turned to you, mouth agape and brows furrowed, looking insulted.

You chuckled, it was easy to annoy the kid. He was loveable, but slightly gullible.

"Well, are you at least telling me where we're going? You've dragged me nearly across the school."

"Parking lot."

"How many bullies you got so far?"

"I don't know, at least 12 though."

"R.I.P."

"Whatever, we're here. Eddie!" Dustin stopped you at Eddies old van. The side door opened and Eddie stepped out.

"Hello Love." He pulled your hand up, and kissed your knuckles. "I hope my friend treated with respect."

"I've known him way longer then you have Munson. Second, he treats me with respect cause he knows ill beat his ass."

"They'vedone it before."

"I hit you once."

"I still threw up."

"Hey, treat my guy/gal with respect!!"

"Sorry."

"Yeah, anyway, look here." Eddie pulled you towards the van, the door he existed still open.

When you peered inside, it was a mini cuddle space. Blankets, pillows, and two containers with music and candy. Fairy lights were hung around the posters that were on the vans walls.

"Holy shit! This is epic! Did you do this today?"

“Yeah, I skipped my last two periods to work on it beanie.”

“What have I said about skipping school? You can get in trouble for that shit. And don’t act like you don’t fucking know.”

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but I really wanted it to be special for you." He cupped your face with both his hands, smiling down at you softly.

"It is, but don't skip class for me, Dork. I thought 86' was your year?"

"It is baby, I promise. Just thought I should surprise you is all, you deserve to be spoiled.”

“That sounds sweet and cheesy. Let’s go!”

You climbed into the back of his van and sat down on the blankets. Eddie grinned and closed the door, walking around and jumping into the drivers seat.

“Where are we off to?”

“A cliff of sorts, I wanna stare gaze and snuggle up with you in the blankets.”

He chuckled. “Can do babe, but it won’t be dark for a few more hours. Wanna do anything in between then?”

“Ice cream?”

<3.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x hopper reader #Eddie Munson x police reader #Jim hopper x reader #Jim hopper x daughter reader #Jim hopper x son reader #Jim hopper x gender neutral reader #Jim hopper x gn reader #Eddie Munson x male reader #Eddie Munson x gender neutral reader #Eddie Munson x gn reader #hellfire club

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obstinaterixatrix · 1 year

Text

yo bookwalker’s having a coin boost event on yuri until 6/25/23, there’s a sale but it only applies to ‘yuri is my job’ (personally I wasn’t compelled by that one). anyway here are some of the series on the list I like:

Still Sick—office lady romance about a woman who draws yuri being found at a convention by a coworker, one of my absolute faves (3 volumes, complete)

5 seconds before a witch falls in love—collection of stories, main story is a two-shot about a witch hunter and a witch duking it out (really like this one) and there’s a oneshot about the most normal girl in existence but a demon and angel obsess over her (not personally a fan). regardless if you like the oneshot, imo the main story is SUUUUPER worth it, I love it a lot (1 volume, complete)

Failed Princesses—high school romance with the energy of a hot-blooded shounen. these gals shout passionately about their feelings. the main character is a popular girl who’d talk shit about the unpopular girl but then her boyfriend cheated on her and the unpopular girl was like ‘hey. you have to be happy. you’re not allowed to be unhappy (because I resent you for being the perfect popular girl)’ and the popular girl was like ‘oh my god… you are sooo NICE I’m obsessed you forever now’ (this is all in like the first two chapters) (6 volumes, complete)

black and white—honestly? I’m not entirely sold on the writing (I don’t think it really coheres in terms of why the relationship develops how it does) but the novelty of having office ladies violently beat the shit out of each other carries it, especially since sal jiang’s art is really good. like those gals are BRAWLING for real, it’s kind of refreshing (1 volume, incomplete)

here are series that I fell off of because I lost interest but they weren’t bad or anything:

The two of them are pretty much like this—slice of life established relationship between a voice actress in her early 20s and a novelist in her 30s (I think). it’s cute, it’s good for folks who like fluff, I fell off because it felt more meandering whereas I like stories with heated drama and momentum (3 volumes, probably ongoing?)

School zone girls—high school gag 4koma, really good for folks who like the *stupid* high school energy. This is a manga with rowdy gals who are idiots. I fell off because it’s one of those really long + big cast kinda manga, yknow, like tsurezure children or gekkan shoujo, so it’ll probably suit folks who like those types (4 volumes, ongoing)

Hello Melancholic—high school gals in a band (I think they do jazz? or it’s some kind of brass band? well the main character plays trumpet), it’s pretty cute and has a solid gloomy gal with hella anxiety + excitable gal who Will Get Her Way No Matter What dynamic, I just fell off of it because I wasn’t interested at the time (3 volumes, complete)

Otherside Picnic—college gals investigating another world/urban legends, the main character is someone who just wanted to chill in another world and the love interest is Looking For Someone Who Disappeared. it’s fun and entertaining, it’s a light novel and the main character has a lot of fun biases—when she says she’s just a normal girl who has experienced a normal life, she is absolutely lying. Good for folks who like urban legends and kind of… investigative arcs? Action and mystery vibes? I read up to volume 4 and fell off because that was all that was out (7 volumes, incomplete, vol 8 is coming out in august)

She loves to cook, she loves to eat—slice of life with working women, the main character loves to cook, the love interest loves to eat. Good for folks who like more grounded stories, the main character thinks a lot about how she’s seen as A Great Potential Wife rather than someone who just has a hobby and the love interest gets underestimated a lot (I think she works in construction??) and gets judgement from being a woman who, yknow, likes to eat. from what I read it’s a very tentative kind of romance of a couple of women finding someone comfortable to be around, I fell off because I get more grabbed by internal/interpersonal conflict rather than external/societal influences but I think it’ll grab folks who 1) like more grounded stories, 2) likes food (3 volumes, I think incomplete?)

Catch these hands!—ex-delinquent and her old classmate that’s obsessed with her. The artist did love live doujins, I think? Anyway it’s fun, would appeal to folks who like things that are lighthearted and who enjoy weird women. I don’t think I was compelled by the emotional focus but I don’t think that means it was bad (4 volumes, complete I think)

I didn’t like these but a lot of people do:

Even Though We’re Adults—messy adult relationship, one of them is married to a man and the other one is like ‘this is so fucking stupid do NOT go through with this it is SUCH a bad idea’ and she goes through with it. shimura is a pretty renowned yuri mangaka, she’s the one who did aoi hana, it’ll probably be a good read for people who like emotionally complex and pretty miserable stories. didn’t have enough humor for my tastes and I fell off pretty early (6 volumes, ongoing)

Run away with me, girl—gorgeous and unique art, it’s about two gals who were high school sweethearts and then one of them went off to be with a guy, the gals reunite as adults and they end up running away together. one of the gals is pregnant and was in an abusive relationship, which is why she’s running. again, for people who like emotionally complex stories. I wasn’t satisfied with the love interest’s development, kinda reminded me of octave, but I know other folks who would probably enjoy how the narrative approaches her (3 volumes, complete)

SHWD—buff women and sci-fi action horror. good art. I don’t think any of the character archetypes or dynamics appealed to me but if you’re desperate for buff women and like sci-fi/action/horror this will help probably (1 volume, incomplete? idk)

Roadqueen—mira’s art is gorgeous but I’m not super compelled by the writing. Good for people who want something goofy and hot-blooded, the vibes are kind of… shounen gag manga? I think? (1 volume, complete)

I’m in love with the villainess—manga adaption of a light novel, one of the most successful (and. one of the very few) villainess transmigration romances, the main character transmigrates into the protagonist and her favorite character is the villainess. one of my friends really likes it and there’s some Sincere Feelings on What It’s Like To Be A Lesbian, but I find it to comedy-focused for my tastes in the beginning. There’s also a spinoff from the villainess’ perspective. Actually I don’t remember if I linked to the manga adaption or the light novel… uh… figure it out yourself.

Bloom into you—everybody loves this one. It has good writing. I don’t like it. High school slice of life coming of age, very emotions-focused, probably like 10 volumes or something I dunno

Superwomen in love—I actually despise this one but according to my strict principles I’m including it because the concept is unique and would appeal to people probably. it’s like tokusatsu yuri with a general defecting from the evil organization and teaming up with the hero. I would’ve liked it more if it was more sincere and less gag-focused. Read it for a fun time but not a deep time until they sprinkle in pathos of heroism and love etc and then they go back to comedy. I guess. I fell off a couple volumes in I dunno it probably gets better. However I like tokusatsu and romance too much to continue.

#recs #ff recs #THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE #why do I do this to myself. I know why but still.

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leandra-winchester · 13 days

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sorry in advance if i come off degrading or rude here (not my intention at all) but i'm sending this to you because you mentioned fictional narrative re: buddie, so i wanna add my thoughts about plausibility in relation to narrative format and medium conventions. long rant & full disclosure, i just watched 911, so i don't know how the conversation around this was pre-tommy but i don't understand how people thought/think it's a slowburn romance arc they were building with buddie that could actually happen. literally no romantic relationship on this show has been slowburn because it's just not how procedural shows of this kind are written. bathena barely interacts in s1 and were put together in a couple episodes. madney are only friends for five episodes or so. none of buck and eddie's relationships have build-up that lasts more than a few eps. the closest i can think of is buck and abby and even that wasn't much. i just don't think it's the nature of these type of shows, with the exception of something like the show castle where two main leads are set up as one day becoming romantic, to give breathing room for romance to go from zero to established. they're written in on-average 6-episode arcs and planned according to audience response, this is basically how every aspect of these shows work including the romantic plots.

which brings me to my second point you already touched a little bit: medium conventions but especially in relation to queer rep. when we have queer rep in these type of mainstream shows they're rarely stories about bi/gay awakening. double gay awakening? honestly, i don't remember a single show where something like this happened. i'm shocked we even got bi buck AT ALL because nominally straight hot guy main character getting confirmed as queer rarely happens. i kinda find the notion of people genuinely expecting this to happen with two main characters over seasons-long burn kind of laughable. and don't get me wrong, i understand why people love the idea, i'm myself a slow-burn building-a-bond-before-romance type of gal but i just don't think that type of queer story would ever work in a format like this, considering the average audience. look at something like 911ls for example, carlos and tk are both openly gay and start having sex on ep 2 and are boyfriends by ep 10 - that's the space queer stories currently hold in mainstream media. where it's made clear from the start and executed quickly over a few eps (not saying there's no further story with them, i just mean the relationship development). so yeah i don't think buddie was ever an option for the writers beyond being aware of the interest in it which is objectively very small compared to the millions of people watching this show. tldr: i think being ship-baited by a mainstream procedural show on fox is like going to the hardware store and asking for milkshake.

Okay, so I don't agree that slow burns aren't possible at all on shows like 911. Afaik, that popular ship on the Rookie also took several seasons, and there are many more shows that had a "will they, won't they?" situation with two main characters. Sure, it's much more difficult to write, plan and pull through, but it does get done.

Many people were hoping Buddie was FINALLY gonna be a queer version of that trope, and the thing is, there was enough subtext in the previous few seasons to support it. There were scenes that were shot and composed with commonly used cinematographic and contextual tropes that are usually used for romantic couples; there was all that stuff with Eddie having panic attacks over Ana, seeming very distanced with her, Carla's "Make sure you follow your heart, not Christopher's", and much more.

I do believe that backdoor was always open a tiny crack wide, and the writers were aware of it being a tiny, tiny option and therefore included all these little bits that would later make it plausible. There were interviews in the past with Tim where he even hinted at something like that, or left the option open; and there were other writers and directors who also subtly confirmed some subtext. It was never explicitly spelled out but hinted at.

So I'm pretty convinced that it at least was some level of consideration, in the past - always with a tiny probability to become possible, but it WAS there. (And before anyone reading this says "oh so that WAS ship baiting?" Nope, it wasn't. Giving yourself the option to maaaaybe do something in the future as a writer is normal procedure.)

Also, just because something was never done before (i.e. a queer slow burn) doesn't mean it'll never get done. It just makes it a lot less likely and subject to MANY external factors.

But yeah, I definitely agree that putting TWO queer awakening arcs around main characters into the story is extremely unlikely to ever happen on a show like this. And actually, we kinda already had two: the show started with Michael coming out to Athena. So yeah, even though we were thrown into the last stage/aftermath of that arc in s1 rather than seeing it play out from the start of its development, we had that.

#buddie but platonic #fandom discourse #kinda #stop trying to make buddie happening #It's NOT going to happen #I'd say sadly #but I'm grateful for #bucktommy #firepilot #buck will always be bisexual #nobody can take that away #and I'm more than happy about it #911

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neversetyoufree · 2 years

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i have come to the realization that vnc is a fantastic example of anime fanservice that appeals to the female gaze. from the character design to the way that intimacy is so closely tied to vulnerability,,, don’t get me started i could go all day

Oh absolutely! It is so obviously catering to the female gaze, lol.

Like, the main 4 characters are all objectively designed to be hot, and Domi and Jeanne are certainly curvy enough, but the camera tends to linger and emphasize certain scenes of Noé and Vanitas in a way that it really doesn't for the gals. Remember that scene where Noé gets bit by Chloé in Gévaudan? Mochijun isn't subtle sometimes. And even in moments like the VaniJeanne scenes, almost all of the focus is usually on Vanitas and his reactions to things. Like, a male gazey version of those scenes almost certainly would not be zooming in on details like Vanitas's blushing and his hand covering his mouth, y'know?

I've said it before, but despite technically being a shonen, Vnc's hornier scenes have much more of a josei vibe to me than anything else. It's totally lacking in that sort of "boobs lolll" tone that usually defines fanservice in shonen media.

(That's also why the couple of moments in the anime adaptation that do get more male gazey really stood out to me lol. They added an extra shot, like, panning down Jeanne's body when she strips in that cabin, and I could immediately tell it was an added shot that wasn't in the manga bc it just felt so jarring and un-mochijun.)

And meanwhile, when it's Domi and Jeanne getting into more actiony scenes, the way they're framed actually makes them feel powerful and cool, and not just props to drool over like you sometimes get. One of my favorite Jeanne panels in the whole series is this one:

because it's such an archetypal "badass action hero" framing. How many times have you seen this exact pose with a woman collapsed on the ground as the hero stands above or just in front of her, swooping in to rescue her from danger? And every aspect of how she's drawn, from the perspective to the power stance to the cape flowing in the wind, is pulled from a "baby's first badass" art guide. And it works! It's a popular kind of shot for a reason! But it's fairly rare to get this kind of classic action hero framing applied to women. It's not often I get to bust out the phrase "female power fantasy," but you can definitely apply it to some scenes in Vnc.

(Even though there's kind of an interesting tension there, since outside her badass soldier shtick, the whole point of Jeanne is that she's a woman who really doesn't have any kind of power or agency. But that's a problem for another day).

I have a feeling this is probably part of why Domi and Jeanne seem to appeal to wlw so much. Because in addition to Dominique being queer as hell, they're both hot women who have scenes dedicated to going "fuck yeah, look how cool and powerful she is" in a non-male-gaze way. That shot of sweaty Domi flipping her hair out of her face in the amusement park doesn't really fit the typical shonen brand of "hot girl," but it absolutely works as wlw bait.

#not to say that dudes can't also find messy powerful women hot #but the specific kind of Male Gaze hotness that you tend to see #and especially shonen's brand of male gaze #is a very different kind of sxy #also anon. you said not to get you started. but all you did was get me started instead lol #I didn't think I had so many things to say abt this. but here we are #vnc #vanitas no carte #the case study of vanitas #meta #ask #anon #the gay agenda #ID in alt text

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sluggzillaa · 5 months

Text

Chapter 1: Vanity

Masterlist ・┈ ・

Word Count: 4.5k

✧ Pairing: Gigolo!Eddie Munson x Stripper!Reader

✧ Summary: You and Eddie work for Hawkins’ hottest club, Notorious for it being filled with all kinds of pleasures. Despite being co-workers, you and Eddie have never really been that close; until now. Being close to someone is nice, but working for who and where you do; it could be extremely dangerous

✧ Warnings and tags: use of Y/N(2), (sfw)teasing, pet/nicknames(Sweetheart, Hun, Sleeping beauty, Angel) , drug use (shmeed), just some fluff, co-workers to lovers, alcohol consumption, smoking, mention hard drugs(❄️) , sex work, violence, assault, driving under the influence(never do this irl I beg), eventual smut, no upside down

✧ Authors note: I started this fic a while ago but never really got the motivation to get back to it until I recently got sick. I hope you guys really like it because so far this is one of my favorite writes and I plan on continuing it for a while if it gets good feedback. If you like the fic and you want to see more then please repost and comment what you’d like to see happen. Luv ya and MINORS SHOO!

✦ ⎯⎯ · ⎯⎯ ·

Sapphire is the go to place for all of Hawkins guilty pleasures. Drugs, liquor, dancers, escorts, you name it they got it. The people are pretty and the sex is good. What happens behind closed doors though; isn’t as sexy. Mafia ties, territory wars, and Tommie. Tommie Rizzo owned basically all of Indiana, with the exception of the areas run by his partners. Not only did he own Indiana, but he also owned whoever worked for him. That’s where you came in.

You first met the devil when he found you tricking on the corner of Ford and Irving. You knew girls often were there to use their ‘talents’ to make a few dollars. What you didn’t know was that those same girls were owned by Tommie. He did not like that someone was using his territory to make a profit. That was till he saw your potential. He left you off with a warning. A month later, he found you back on the same corner pulling the same tricks. He snatched you out of a client's car and threw you into his. That’s when he told you all about Sapphire. You knew about Sapphire, but it never crossed your mind on how it’d be to work there. He brought you in when the club was closed. He put you up on the stage and had you dance to whatever was popular at the moment. From that moment on, he knew he had a star in his hand. He knew you’d bring him in lots of money.

Now here you’re putting on the last dance of the night before you tend to your private clients. You get the highest, brightest stage to give the best performances any of the club goers would see. All eyes would be on you; not even the girls who would walk around offering bottles and private dances would get a sideways glance. Your set ended and you collected your tips. you walk off the stage and down to the bar. Nothing calms your nerves like liquor and a blunt. the other girls would cut their tips in half by buying snow off of the boss, you couldn’t bother with the intensive nosebleeds that happen afterwards.

‘Anna! Can I get a henny shot and a coke!’

You smiled at the girl behind the bar and turned back towards the stage. You admired the crowd of people dancing to the music, wishing to be that happy again. A figure passed by your peripherals. You turned your head and found Eddie, the top paying escorts of the club. In a town of sad housewives, gigolos were there to fill the void of a lousy inattentive husband. Most women want to chase their teen years or get a taste at an exciting sex life and that is where Eddie comes in handy. A lengthy metal head who rides a harley, has long dark hair, and is covered head to toe in tattoos. Every gals bad boy fantasy. There's a good reason and it’s not just because he's very skilled. He knows how to handle a woman outside of taking care of her in bed.

Eddie stood a few feet away from your spot at the bar. He signaled over the guy working with Anna at the bar. He greeted Eddie and pulled out a bottle of cheap rum and began to pour his drink. Once he finished, he slid the drink to the gigolo and walked off to a patron giving Anna a tough time.

“Tough night, Eds?” You questioned

“I guess you could say that. Didn’t even get to fuck the last chick, she just cried about her husband”

“Sounds rough.. Hey question”

He turned his head towards you and cocked his eyebrow, ushering you to ask your question. He took a sip of his drink and took a quick glance around the club. You did the same and brought your voice down to a whisper

“You still selling weed? I know since you started here you stopped dealing but-”

“Yes I still sell weed, just weed though. The harder shit I got from Tommie”

“Well, do you think I can cop some? My dealer recently got booked so i’ve been surviving just on clips”

“Yea that’s cool. You still don’t got a ride home?”

You chewed your lip at his question. You hated talking about your living situation outside of the club. You hated when people paid attention to your life enough for them to be able to ask questions. Being asked questions meant having to give answers.

“Um.. yea. But I just take the bus home, no ones really on there at night”

“Shit Y/N.. That's not safe for a girl like”

He moved closer to you until he was only a few inches away. He took a swig of his drink, finishing it off; then looked you in your eyes. You can see concern paint his face and it runs a chill down your body. He sets the drink down and watches as his bartender friend came and scooped it up. He turned back to you and huffed.

‘“Okay, how about I take you to my place and we smoke a joint.. I’ll take you home afterwards”

“Eddie.. I’ll come over in the morning to pick up the weed. I’m just fine taking the bus” You protested

He let out a low chuckle and looked down at his feet and shook his head. He looked back up at you and chewed at his cheek.

“God, you're so stubborn. I’m not taking no for an answer. When does your shift end?”

“It ended as soon as I hopped off that stage. I just need to get changed and grab my stuff”

“Alright, I’ll see you in 10?”

You nodded and strolled your way to the locker room. As you entered the busier part of the club, a hand brushed against your lower back. An assuming grin pasted onto your face and you turned around. Your smile faded when you found a man in his early fifties behind you. He had a creepy shit eating grin that made your stomach turn. You gave him a scolding look and pushed his hands away.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” The creep questioned

“We have a no touching rule here. Hands off the merchandise!”

“Come on.. Let me show you what these hands could do, beautiful” He pushed

He wrapped his arm around the back of you and gripped your side. He harshly pulled you into his chest, causing you to stumble over your large platform shoes. He dug his head into the crook of your neck, sniffing and getting the smell of your fading perfume, shampoo, and sweat. He groaned and lifted his head up to your ear.

“$100 and I’ll rock your world” He whispered

His statement made you shudder. You pushed both your palms against his chest and attempted to get out his grip. He held tightly onto you, digging his nails in your side. You hissed in pain and grunted as you used all your strength to get away. The tussle caused a disturbance in the crowd and there was a large amount of attention on you two. You turned your head and watched as the crowd broke in two. The tall long haired boy, you were just speaking to; pushed through the crowd. He reached out and pulled you and the man apart. He quickly scanned you to make sure you didn’t need his immediate attention and turned back to the older man. He gripped onto the man’s shirt with his fists and got into his face. The man's eyes shot open in fear and all color left his face, like he had seen a ghost. On the other hand, Eddie was completely red. It was almost funny how similar he looked to a tomato at that moment.

“Did you not hear the fucking girl?” He shouted loudly, his voice rasping from overuse

“She told you hands off! But you’re too much of a sick bastard to respect that!”

Two bouncers rushed to the center of the club and pulled the two apart. One attempted to cool Eddie down whilst the other dragged the creep out, kicking and screaming like a toddler. Eddie walked over to you. He placed his hands on your forearms and scanned you thoroughly, making sure this guy didn’t leave even a tiny scratch on you. His eyebrows pressed together and formed a mini valley in between them. He let out a sigh of relief and nodded to himself before pulling away.

“I could’ve handled that myself” You scoffed

“Yeah, sure looked like it. Now go get changed so i can get you home before people get more rowdy”

You narrowed your eyes at him and then rolled them. You quickly turned around and made your way into the locker room. Eddie watched as your figure disappeared into the next room and smiled to himself. The bouncer behind him patted his back, bringing him back to earth.

“Don’t forget what you do for work”

With that statement, his smile faded

⋆.ೃ࿔*

You walked out of the locker room wearing an oversized purple crewneck and a pair of black biker shorts. You swapped your tall pleasers for a pair of scuffed white reeboks and slouchy socks. You sported a medium sized duffle bag over your shoulder. You waved bye to Anna at the bar and Eddie’s friend, who you noticed she had been eyeing. You said your goodbyes to the bouncers and walked out into the parking lot. You spotted Eddie leaned against his bike, smoking a cigarette. As soon as he noticed you coming, he dropped the cig and put it out under his foot. He reached for your hand and assisted you up onto the seat. He grabbed his helmet and passed it over to her. She looked up at him confused.

“Aren’t you gonna need it?”

“Not as much as you”

He took the helmet from your hands and placed it onto your head. He swung his leg over the bike and straddled the seat. He popped the stand and revved the gas. You wrapped your arms tightly around his waist. He picked his foot off the ground and the bike began to move. The perk of getting off at this hour was how peaceful the streets were. No one is on the streets. It's just the sounds of the night and the light from the street lamps. It's calming. A big contrast from the club scene. The wind that brushed past you as the bike sped made you feel like you were flying.

After a bit of a drive, Eddie pulled up into the gravel driveway in front of a trailer. He turned the bike off and popped the stand. He hopped off and turned around towards you. He held you by the sides of your waist and guided you off. You lifted the helmet off of your head and handed it to Eddie. He looked at you and chuckled. You gave him a confused look.

“What’s so funny?” You questioned?

“Your hair” He pointed out

The realization hit you and you quickly rushed to fix it. He laughed quietly as he watched you act frantically. He shook his head and walked to his front door. He wiggled his key in the lock until he heard a click. He opened the door for you and ushered inside of the trailer. As you walked in, you took a glance around the house. You took notice of the hats hung on the walls and the mugs presented on the shelf. You turned back to Eddie who was now locking and closing the door.

“Nice decor you got here”

“It’s not mine.. My uncle’s”

“You live with your uncle?” You questioned

You walked around the living room, looking over the magazines on top of the coffee table. A new edition of Rolling Stones, Guns N’ Roses posed on the front. You sat on the couch in front of the table and flipped through the pages.

“Nope, I gave him the apartment Tommie got for me as a signing bonus”

He leaned against the tv stand as he watched you flip through the pages. You closed the book and pushed it to the side, uncovering an Italian Vogue. You laughed to yourself and cocked an eyebrow. He looked down at what you were looking at and his breath caught in his throat. He tried to speak up but nothing would come out.

“Never took you for a designer fashion kinda guy” You joked

You brushed over the front cover and flipped to the next page. Eddie watched in horror as if everything was in slow motion. You fully flipped the front and revealed the cover of a Playboy issue. Your mouth gaped open and you stood frozen looking over the page. A blonde woman seductively sipping on a bunny shaped milkshake. Once you snapped back; you quickly closed the magazine and stood up. You cleared your throat and looked up at a red face Eddie.

“Let's go roll up” you said in attempt to change the subject

“Yea.. yea lets do that”

Eddie pushed off the tv stand and led the way to his room. You followed behind, giving space between the both of you. He opened the door to his room and flicked on the lights. Once the room brightened, you could see the copious amounts of posters plastered on the wall. A red warlock guitar was hung in front of his mirror. The rest of the room was decorated with nerd memorabilia. Eddie sat down on his bed and leaned back, kicking his shoes off. He grabbed the rolling tray off his bedside table and placed the weed in the grinder. You slipped off your shoes and placed them at the end of his bed, along with your duffle bag. He passed the tray to you and signaled you to roll the joint. He got up and walked over to a corner in his room containing a few milk crates filled with vinyls. He picked up an album and slipped the disk out the sleeve. He placed it onto the player and hit play. War pigs began to play. You hummed to yourself as you licked the paper and sealed the joint. He sat back down on his mattress and took the joint from your manicured fingers. He placed it between his lips and brought the lighter up to the end, taking small puffs to make sure it was pulling correctly. He took a proper hit and pulled the joint away from his lips. He inhaled deeply and held it for a second, he then puffed it out into the air above him. He handed the blunt back to you.

“I’m sorry about earlier tonight.. James and Allen just seemed to be busy with a group of drunks and-”

“It’s alright Eddie. If anything I should be apologizing for giving you an attitude”

“You were just being independent”

“Yea, but that wasn’t okay. You were just trying to-”

As you spoke, Eddie took the burning joint from between your fingers and took another hit. He then leaned closer to you and blew the smoke straight into your face, shutting you up. You accidently inhaled the cloud and went into a coughing fit. Eddie quickly panicked and grabbed the half drunken water bottle off of one of his bedside tables. He popped off the cap and handed it to you to drink. You chugged the rest of the water in the bottle and took a deep breath. You squinted your eyes at Eddie and threw the bottle at him. He immediately put his arms up to block the hit.

“Hey! I was just helping you!”

“Yea totally trying to help” You jokingly spat back

You got up, went over to Eddie’s music corner and shuffled through the albums till you landed on something familiar. You picked a Metallica album, Ride the lightning. You grabbed the cover of the Black Sabbath album and placed the disk back into the sleeve, then into the bin. You grabbed the other album and slipped the record out and placed it onto the player. Fight fire with fire began to play through the speakers. You smiled to yourself and walked back over to the bed, taking a seat.

“Didn’t take you as a Metallica fan, or even a metal fan for that matter”

“Well, my uncle used to be a huge metalhead.. Plus I had like the biggest crush on Kirk since my sophomore year”

He cocked his head and gave you a little smirk. You laid back onto his pillows and let out a soft yawn. Eddie looks over to the digital alarm clock on his dresser then back at you.

“It’s pretty late.. If you’d like, you could borrow some clothes and stay the night”

“No it’s alright, I don’t wanna run you out of a bed”

“Are you sure? I’m just fine on the couch, it doubles as a pull out”

“Look at you being all chivalrous.. But i’m just fine going home”

“Alright, i’m gonna quickly shower then i’ll drive you home”

You give him a quick nod and watch him roam around his room, grabbing clothes. He walks out of the room and into his bathroom, which was maybe like 6 feet away. You hear the shower turn on and the curtain open. Another yawn hits you and your eyelids slowly shut. Once your vision was dark, a wave of tiredness slept over; knocking you out cold.

Eddie finished his shower and quickly got dressed, making sure he didn’t have you waiting too long. He walked out the bathroom and down the short distance of the hallway, into his room. He opened his mouth, ready to say something; until he noticed your sleeping body in his bed. He smiled to himself. He grabbed the blanket on his bed and draped it over you. He reached over you and grabbed a pillow. He went to the hallway closet next to his door and pulled a blanket from the shelf.

“Night, hun”

He grabbed his stuff and settled on the couch in the living room.

⋆.ೃ࿔*

The sunlight beamed from behind a slit in a set of blackout curtains. You groan and try to shield your eyes from the sudden brightness. You sit up and blink until your vision is no longer blurry. You scan the room, not recognizing it whatsoever. You get up from the bed and make your way down the hallway and into the rest of the house. As you walked into the kitchen, the smell of bacon entered your senses. You rubbed your eyes and looked over towards the stove, finding the tall long haired boy slaving away. The memories from last night came back to you and you felt less confused.

“Morning Eds”

“Morning sleeping beauty!”

He turned around with a plate of bacon and another plate with scrambled eggs. He placed them down onto the small two person table and turned back around to grab the plate of toast. You pulled out the chair closest to you and sat down. Eddie passed you a fork and an extra plate.

“Apple or orange juice?”

“Orange for sure”

He grabbed two cups out of his cabinet and the juice out of the fridge. He filled up both glasses and placed them on the table. He grabbed himself a plate and utensils and sat down across from you. He took his fork and served himself some eggs.

“Help yourself.. I won’t be able to eat all this myself”

You crack a smile and serve yourself some food. Eddie scarfs down his plate like he hasn’t eaten in days. He grabs his dishes and places them in the sink. He leans against the kitchen counter and waits for you to finish eating while he sips his juice. You finish up and get up to put your dishes in the sink. Eddie quickly snatched them away from you and put them in the sink to scrub.

“No lady should wash her own dishes”

“Drop the gentleman act” You joke

He shrugs his shoulders and turns around, running the sink faucet. He turns his head to look at you while he cleans the dishes. You lean against the counter, arms crossed; watching Eddie do chores.

“Go get ready so I can drop you off at home”

“Yea sure.. Wait, what time is it?”

“Like 11:40, why?”

“Shit, I got a meeting with Tommie at 12:15”

“I gotta go to the club anyways; need to pick up my pay and get my jobs for the day”

You nod at him and head back to his room to fix up your hair and makeup. Once you finish up, you take advantage of Eddie’s busyness to take a look around. You pace around his room and admire his posters and his mini elf and wizard figurines. As you look at the Dungeons & Dragons memorabilia, you notice a photo hanging up on his mirror. You grab it and take a closer look. It was the class of 86’. You scan the picture and find you, a few people away; you find Eddie. A sense of nostalgia waves over you. Your attention is pulled away by a knock on the door frame. Eddie stood there drying his hands off with a kitchen towel. He swung the towel onto his shoulder and walked over to your place by the dresser.

“Whatcha looking at?

“Our class photo”

“Took me 6 years to get, my second most prized possession”

“What do you think baby Eddie would think about your life now?”

“He’d probably just be thankful he’s finally getting laid”

You laughed and placed the picture back on the mirror. You walked back over to the bed and sat down to slip on your shoes. You opened your bag and looked through it to find a pair of earrings.

“What about you? What would baby Y/N think?

You took a second to consider the question, chewing at your lip.

“Um.. mind if I don't answer?”

“Yea.. Yea that’s completely fine”

Eddie scratched the back of his head, obviously worried and feeling regretful. He grabbed his van keys and a pack of cigarettes off his nightstand. He grabs his leather jacket from the hook on the back of his door and slipped it on. He looked over at you and watched as you picked up your bag and laid it over your shoulder. You stood up off the bed and followed Eddie out the house. He clicked the car remote and opened the doors. He ran up to the car from behind you and opened the passenger door. He jokingly bowed as you hopped in the vehicle. He shut the door and walked over to the other side, entering the car. He slipped his keys into the ignition and started the car. He looked over at you to make sure you were settled before pulling out of the driveway. He turned on the stereo, an Iron maiden tape loaded in the deck. He nodded to the tune.

“Hey, open the glove compartment and pick a tape.. I trust your judgment”

You nod and pop open the glove department and a load of tapes fall out onto your lap. You chuckle at the amount of music he owns. You search through the copious amounts of cassettes and settle on two options, AC/DC and Slayer.

“Pick one, Back in Black or Reign in Blood”

“Reign in Blood, for sure”

You press the eject button on the stereo and pull out the previous tape, then replacing it with the new one. Angel of death blares through the speakers, Eddie only cranks up the volume further. You both nod your heads to the song.

⋆.ೃ࿔*

You and Eddie walk into the club together, immediately getting interesting looks from Anna and Eddie’s friend; whose name you learned was Mason. Eddie took your bag from you and wished you good luck with the meeting. As you walk over to Tommie’s office, Anna gives you the ‘I’m watching you’ signal. You shake your head and enter the office. Tommie is leaned against the side of his desk, wearing an expensive looking black suit with a gray tie. He perked up as soon as he noticed you walking in the room. He opens his arms wide, ready for a hug. You happily embrace the man. He pulls away and goes to sit down at the other side of his desk. You pull out the other velvet chair and sit down.

“How are you doing, My angel?”

“I’m good Tommie!”

“Great great.. Okay now to business”

You lean forward, giving him your full respect and attention

“Recently I've noticed that business has been pretty slow. So I've made some decisions with my partners down in Carmel. We are going to be having an event this Saturday”

“I’m listening..”

“The angels of Sapphire.. Which will only make your nickname more true”

“What’s the catch Tom?”

“You will be our lovely hostess, Our spotlight lady of the night”

“Does that mean I get my own special costume”

“Absolutely and you will only have to dance once that night; Your own big number to close it out”

“You’re a genius, Tom”

“And you’re my star”

The two of you settled the details of the event and agreed to meet another time. You left the office and Eddie stood in the hallway waiting for you. He smirked and patted your shoulder

“Congrats, ‘angel’’

“Shut up..”

“I’m just joshing, but seriously congrats”

“Thanks Eds”

“I’ll come pick you after your shift”

You gave him a thumbs up and a wave. You headed towards the locker room but not before taking one more glance back at Eddie as he entered the office. From a distance, Anna and Mason watched as the two of you parted ways. They both exchanged a glance and knowing smiles.

“We need to get them together” Anna conspired

“Abso-fucking-lutely” Mason added

#eddie #eddie filth #eddie munson #eddie my beloved #eddie smut #eddie x fem!reader #stranger things #smut #angst #fanfic

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