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rkvriki · 10 hours

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˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ enhypen obliviously in love

hi.......lmfao i keep disappearing i swear i'm alive but my isnpo has been going down the drain but i got this cute lil idea also to take a break of all the smutty things i've been posting lolz... anyways hope you enjoy this one !

make sure to leave feedback and reblog! my requests are closed and my talk box is always open so lets talk!

WARNINGS ! none really i think?? this is just not my best work im sorry </3 word count: 1.9k a/n: sorry that some of them, mainly hee's, are smaller than others, my brain isn't functioning and i had a writer's block during this and if it's not goo it's bc i quite forced myself to write this bc i wanted to post sth :(

୨୧ LEE HEESEUNG ! - trying to hold your hand and failing

you and heeseung met through mutual friends in your first year of college and you became almost inseparable ever since then. in the beginning of it, you would only be together when the whole group was, but as time went by and you both started feeling more than just platonic feelings you two started hanging out alone as well. it was usual for heeseung to walk you to your apartment after classes and today was no different. you two walked side by side, the sun almost setting behind you. it was mostly quiet except for the background chatting and the small talk you two would make about something you saw. you could feel heeseung’s hand brushing against yours from time to time and you were internally cursing him out for not holding your hand already. after a few moments of silence, you heard heeseung sigh as he gained courage to hold your hand. his hand got closer to yours but- oh! a light post came between you two. needless to say heeseung was a blushing mess while you laughed at him.

୨୧ PARK JONGSEONG ! - confronting you about it

anyone had to be really blind to not notice the romantic connection there was between you and jay. it was so obvious you were both in love with each other, it was almost painful how one of the sides didn’t notice. that side being you. it’s not like you didn’t like jay romantically, because you do. a lot. but you felt like he just saw you as a best friend he tends to protect a lot. jay didn’t really show it, but he gets really frustrated when he tries to make a move on you in a subtle way, only for you to put him in the friend zone, but it’s all unintentional. every time someone tells you “jay totally likes you.” you’re quick to dismiss them because he would never see you like that. even though you’re the one saying it, it breaks you inside. until one day, you’re both in a diner, sharing fries and a milkshake and you can see jay fidgeting nervously and bouncing his leg repeatedly. “you’re restless, what’s going on?” you ask him, worried. jay sighs heavily and props his elbows on the table, staring at you with a serious expression. “look, i don’t know if i should just give up, because at this point you have to be pretending not to know.” he says “T-to know what?” he laughs at that. “that i like you, dummy.”

୨୧ SIM JAEYUN ! - tries to kiss you and fails

as childhood friends you and jake were always expected to end up dating by your fellow family members. you would always brush off any comments about you two (deep down you wish they were true) while jake just smiled like a fool while looking at you. it was no surprise when jake told his friends he liked you. it wasn’t hard to notice how he felt about you, seen the way he looks at you with glimmering eyes as he took in every word you say. he has never really tried to hide how he felt about you. he wasn’t ashamed of it and couldn’t wait for the moment you realized he liked you, because deep down he knew you felt like him too. it’s funny to him how he’s always making flirty comments and giving you kind of romantic presents and still you just thought he was playing his role as your best friend. but still, even though it was all funny and entertaining to watch, jake was tired of waiting and he decided to just directly show you how he feels. so that’s how you find yourself sitting in the park bench with him as layla plays around. jake takes a quiet deep breath as his hand comes up to brush your hair from your face, making you face him. he takes that as an opportunity to lean down. you, thinking he was gonna whisper something, turned your face to the side, making him bump his head against you. he starts laughing at you, making you confused. “you can’t really see it, can you?”

୨୧ PARK SUNGHOON ! - misunderstanding gone right ?

no one who knew you two understood how in hell you and sunghoon weren’t a couple. it was so obvious you both liked each other but still none of you seemed to do anything about it. you two were your class’s representatives so you two were almost always together and it wasn’t too hard to notice the lingering touches or stares you shared. but something the other students didn’t know was that you two had actually talked about your “feelings”. one day sunghoon almost overheard you telling your friend you liked him. “you like me?” he had asked “no! no, i don’t like you, sunghoon.” you answered trying to play it off. he nodded, his lips pursing. “good, then because i’m in love with someone else.”. it was something along those lines and you two had never talked about it again, but the tension never left. it felt heavy on you and it was painful to spend time alone with sunghoon so you settled that you were gonna tell him the truth. “remember that day you asked me if i liked you?” he hummed as he stopped in his tracks. “well, i lied. i like you, actually. i don’t want things to get awkward because you don’t feel the same but i needed to be honest.” his eyes widened as he stared at you like you were crazy. “are you kidding me? i only said i didn’t like you because you said you didn’t like me.” you gasped and pointed an accusing finger at him “why did you lie then? you said you were in love-” “hey! don’t put the blame on me now you lied too.” “well, we still can fix it right?” you said laughing making him do the same.

୨୧ KIM SUNOO ! - “PFT! who would ever like me?”

you and sunoo weren’t the closest people ever but you two spent a lot of time together since pretty much all of your friends were mutual. still, that fact didn’t stop you from developing a silly crush on him that quickly turned into something more serious the more you got to know him in the very few times the two of you were left alone after a group hangout. no one knew about it except for your best friend. you never told sunoo, not because you were afraid of rejection or him being rude because with how sweet his personality is, he would’ve rejected you in such a friendly manner it would make you think he’s reciprocating the feelings, but because no one like him would ever like you, he was way out of your league. so, confessing was definitely out of question, no matter how much your best friend would insist you would simply not do it. but in reality, it wasn’t really like that. one day you were hanging out with sunoo and your best friend at a cat cafe when suddenly in the conversation you said something along the words of “who would ever like?” and bold sunoo, was not afraid to hide his sincere feelings and answered with “i do.” he smiled while you looked up blushing furiously. your best friend laughing maniacally. “w-what?” sunoo chuckled at your reaction. “i thought i made it quite obvious that i liked you, silly.” oh! who would’ve guessed!

୨୧ YANG JUNGWON ! - heard you liked “someone else”

you and jungwon had met each other in sophomore year of highschool and it was safe to say there was a connection instantly that was more than just a platonic one. you two quickly became attached at the hip. if jungwon said he was going somewhere it was sure that you would be here two, if you were being invited somewhere they could already expect the “can jungwon come along?” question, and vice-versa. it wasn’t strange when people came up to either you or him and asked if you were dating each other and it honestly shocked everyone when you both would always answer no to it, even your own girlfriends found your “friendship” strange. they did not find the idea of a boy-girl friendship weird or impossible to exist but they just couldn’t see your dynamic as friends so it was bound for them to question you. you heard the question so many times you decided to just tell them “fine! yes, i like him so, what?” you saw their shocked faces but they weren’t looking at you. you looked behind you seeing jungwon behind you. when you locked eyes he was quick to turn his back and walk away making you panic. a few days have gone by after that and you decided you needed to talk to him. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner. i didn’t want things to get ruined by this.” jungwon stared at you “who even is tha guy?” he asked making you look at him as if he had three heads. “what?” you asked “what what?” “jungwon the guy is literally you, i thought that was settled already.” jungwon stayed silent before laughing like a maniac. “if you’re here to make fun of me you can-” jungwon shut you off with a kiss, making you relaize where things went wrong.

୨୧ NISHIMURA RIKI ! - i don’t even know how to word this one

let’s settle one thing. you two knew you both liked each other. romantically. you just don’t bother on labelling it or directly showing it to each other. everyone around you found your dynamic honestly weird but to you two it was more simple than people put it to be. it all started when you were really oblivious about ni-ki’s feelings for you so he decided to hint that he liked you more than a friend. like one time you were walking to his house and he just shoot “you look cute.” but you didn’t quite hear what he said, distracted by a dog “what did you say?” he sighed “i said you look like a fruit.” “riki that does not make sense, but whatever you say.” and he started gradually getting bolder. “i can’t get this song out of my head.” you told him during class “i can’t get you out of my head.” oh! that was new information for you “thanks…?” at this point you were acting dumb for him and he couldn’t take it anymore so he got even more straightforward. during one of your daily walks you were rambling about a flower you saw on the way and he just let you talk as his hand sneakily grabbed yours, making you stop talking and falter in your steps “what?” he asked as if it was nothing “n-nothing!” he smiled as he kept walking along with you. after that day he noticed a change. a good one. and that’s when he realized you had realized so he decided to just get to the point “is it weird if i kiss you?” he asked when you were eating lunch in the school garden. you put your drink down and turned to look at him. “honestly, riki? yes. do i care? no.” so with that he grabbed your face, kissing you as he smiled against your lips.

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1-800-kami · 7 months

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R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it.

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)

content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)

author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.

this fic IS split into two parts (update: part two is now out!! linked here 2 read) and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

“so… let me get this straight.”

“go ahead.”

shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”

“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”

“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment.

“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”

“do you… do you share any classes with him?”

“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”

“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.

all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.

it’s hard to forget about gojo.

not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…

...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.

the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.

“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”

speak of the devil.

there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.

you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface.

“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”

what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.

you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.

pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-

“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”

“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”

your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.

“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”

“what did you just call me?!-”

“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”

“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.

“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”

“how could i not? you’re so cute.”

“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.”

the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.

he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.

when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”

he’s relentless. “why do you care?”

“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”

you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”

“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“

“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them.

some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side.

“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words.

“i don’t need your money…”

“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow.

“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”

that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”

“do you promise? like, actually?”

“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.

“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.

“i also want your number.”

you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.

“what do you have me saved as?”

the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.

you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.

“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“

“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”

“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“

“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”

“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.

“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone.

he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.

“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“

the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.

from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think.

gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.

you push him away.

everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.

you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.

and that thought alone scares you.

still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone.

the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.

“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”

“satoru-“

“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.

“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”

you take back everything you just said.

a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.

you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”

he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..”

“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”

“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.

“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family.

you try to ignore how that makes you feel.

and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater.

you’re in love with gojo satoru.

and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again.

and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.

you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.

the reason why you want to stick around too.

you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?”

“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.

you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.

it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.

you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.

it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.

shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.

the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.

it was your ex.

your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes.

if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind.

you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.

out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.

“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom.

“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.

“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”

you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.

“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”

your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”

“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”

“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.

you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.

you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.

the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.

“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”

you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”

“oh, don’t even get me started.”

he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”

“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”

he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”

“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.

the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?”

you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”

“kento nanami.”

“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.”

“i’m just doing my job.”

“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”

“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”

“y/n l/n.”

“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”

“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”

“did something happen?”

“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”

“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”

he gets to the cafe in five.

you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car.

it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru.

however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”

your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.

“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-”

“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.

“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.

“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side.

you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”

still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.

i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.

“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.”

that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.

the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?

“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you��” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”

“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look.

“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”

“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”

“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”

you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“

“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid.

“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”

“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.

“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”

he cuts you off. “you… what?”

you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.

“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.

this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.

“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.

you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”

gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.

a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.

“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”

he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”

“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand.

“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.”

he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”

“i love you, y/n.”

“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you.

he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.

“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.

“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already.

gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”

“hmph. alright.”

“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”

“satoru!”

“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”

this night is going amazing.

when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here.

“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.

it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.

“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.

“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.

“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink.

“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”

“oh? do tell.”

“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”

“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”

“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”

“hey, i wanted to know more!-”

“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”

“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you.

suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”

“duh. it’s a classic.”

“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight.

suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.”

satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”

you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.”

he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”

“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again.

you wish you never did.

you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.

on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.

fuck.

you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.

what bullshit that was.

your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.

so you do.

you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.

of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.

stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.

when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?

he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.

he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.

they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”

“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.

“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”

he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.”

“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”

geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.

“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.

gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.

part 2 ;)

#kami writes #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru comfort #gojo x reader angst #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x y/n

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jinnie-ret · 4 months

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FIC RECS

Ok so someone in my asks box asked me for some fic recommendations and I tried to add some gradually but my asks have been so weird recently so I've had to make a new post for them!

First of all ty anonnie you words were really sweet, I hope you stay healthy too!

Also just to preface I will list sfw and nsfw recs so pls if you are a minor, do not explore the nsfw recommendations, these blogs will most likely have a mdni statement so pls respect that and don't go against that :)

Now, enjoy!

SFW

Enough for you - @mixtape-racha (poly ot8 angst comfort)

We love an angst comfort fic and this is one of my faves. Take caution reading this one and read the content warnings at the top just in case! But this one is simply amazing and I wish I wrote it the end.

The Field Trip - @dreamescapeswriting (Seungmin X reader)

Seungmin and reader are teachers in this and if you follow me you may have seen me reblog this one before bc I love it and want this, also this blog has so many imagines you will be fed for days

Warm blankets - @jiniret-writings (3 parts, hurt comfort poly ot8 x reader)

I felt so emotionally invested in this story when I read it, like I felt readers pain 😭 gorgeous

jack-in-the-box -@junicai (angst, ninth member reader)

Set in kingdom. We hate mnet. Skz are very protective and reader gets the comfort she deserves in the end, love this sm!

@hyunjinsbelovedamericano - lots of headcanons and reaction type fics on their MASTERLIST, give it a look!!

Simptober 2023 - @skz-streamer

Fluff for days!!! pookie rly worked hard on this one so go and show some love because you've got so much to read here

Skz text aus - @channiesbakery

These are so so funny I cannot cope. Also explore the other fluff posts too bc they're really cute!

More text aus - @diddybok

Same goes for this blog too, explore their other stuff!

@hannahhbahng has some rly cute fluffy reads on their masterlist

@hanjiquokkaaa check out their skz reactions! My pookie slays every time

Skz fluff fics - @wooahaes

So much fluff to pick from! I fall in love every time!

Warm milk and honey - @horanghoe (poly skz x reader)

One of my fav skz comfort fics of all time, it's so so good, recommending again bc I should

In his arms, unexpectedly yours - @cheesemonky (Hyunjin x reader series)

This is a new series which I'm excited to see my pookie write !!!

@astraysimp for dad skz!!!

Nicholas Ross - @dean-a-mean-tae (skz ninth member male oc)

Love their ninth member writings so definitely check it out if you're looking for male!oc who is the ninth!

In my past, I find you and in the future, I still have you - @yangbbokari (Chan x reader)

Heartbreaking, like so angsty but it's gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous

Princess treatment with SKZ - @j-oneproduces

Each individual member x reader has a drabble and I love it so so much, very accurate imo

@skzoologist read their imagines on their ninth member oc Bae! They also have a fic called unfamiliarity using the same oc :)

I like the view - @mirisss (hybrid ot8 skz X reader)

I rly need to reread this one because I loved what I read so far on it!!!

NSFW

Rabbit hybrid reader - @authorofdanger (hybrid skz x hybrid reader)

I've linked a masterlist, I'd recommend the fic dominance and then the first few fics which are to do with reader as a rabbit hybrid! slight warning that woojin is mentioned

•

Red Moon - @lixiepeach (omegaverse series)

this is one of the first skz omegaverse fics I read and it is done so beautifully, as it says in the description of the series, it deals with more adult content than just smut, and the way it is explored is written so well, couldn't recommend highly enough!

Inked Petals and Message Tones - @leviackermanscleaningbuddy (poly smau with real life)

this is an ao3 skz fic which changed my life. I can't explain how much I love this, it had me on an emotional rollercoaster fr fr like it's amazing!

n.h.i.e mini series - @hyungszn (smut ot8 x reader)

damn this one really has me on my toes like the chapters are chefs kiss and it's such a good read!

Bold - @hyunsvngs (American footballer minsung x reader)

Wow wow wee wow. This one made my brain go brrr and evaporate and melt and wow the storyline in it is so so good too. Juno rly has such a good relationship with anonnies and moots and it's so lovely to see. A jupiter stan right here!!

Sanguis Limerence - @jl-micasea-fics (vampire skz x reader)

This is one of the first series I was fully committed to reading on this all and constantly checking. It's insanely amazing, I can't put it into words and now I wanna read it all back again 😭

waiting for us - @kkami-writes (smau poly ot8 X reader)

I'm in love with this!!! Perhaps my fav skz smau like the character development as well is really nice to see and it's an easy read if you find it easier to read it in text messages form

Anger management - @2chopsticks2eyes (minsung x reader)

This is so hot and the way the storyline progresses as well is beautiful

@1-800-shedevil I'm in awe of her and her blog. Gorgeous writer, gorgeous writing. Her posts about body positivity rly are so helpful and her words are so comforting

Sharing = caring - @cbini (ot8 X reader)

This is unbelievably good and if you haven't seen it yet? Do you even Tumblr? Love how ems has such a good relationship with moots and in answering asks too! cbinian for life

Better than revenge - @lixie-phoria (smau Jeongin x reader)

I'm so obsessed with this series so far, putting it here bc there's smut to be added in the future. But I'm in love with it so far wow!!!

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fic #skz smut #stray kids smau #stray kids smut #poly skz #skz poly #straykids ninth member #skz ninth member #stray kids ninth #stray kids ninth member

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gilmore-angel · 11 months

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unexpected pleasures || A.T x fem!reader

summary ♱ reader has just wed the infamous aemond targaryen, and though she's nervous, she will soon discover there are many pleasurable things to come (tldr reader gets finger fucked good)

warnings/contains ♱ arranged marriage, awkwardness at first, smut obvi, sub!reader dom!aemond, fingering, praise kink!! use of good girl, pretty girl, wife. overall very fluffy!! soft!aemond<3. let me know if I should add anything else!!

authors note ♱ okok this is probably trash but I'm literally forcing myself to write rn<3 lol anyways this is also my first time actually writing for aemond which is crazy bc I've been obsessed with him since like early January💀. if you enjoy please reblog! likes are obviously appreciated but reblogs are the thing that actually help the writer<3 oh and lmk if you want a part two!!

navigation 𔓕 follow and turn on notifications for @baysfics to know when I post my writings

married life isn't so bad after all.

of course, you've only been married for about three hours now, but it's going better than expected, which at this point is all you can hope for.

your new husband, prince aemond, has been quite pleasant thus far. you have only had roughly six full conversations since you were betrothed two months ago, but based off of them he was very polite and well educated.

though you had dreaded the wedding day, everything had gone smoothly. the ceremony itself was a big event, full of lords and ladies you didn't even know the house of, all eager to get on the new princesses good side. and of course there was the kiss you shared with aemond, one that sent an unknown feeling through you, settling at your lower belly. and now, the grand feast to celebrate the union.

it had less people there, only family and the very important houses were allowed to attend. you sat at the table in the middle, sitting in the center along with your husband. on your other side sat your father, mother and siblings, the same went for aemond. your husband stayed mostly silent during the feast, only speaking when spoken to.

your belly slightly ached with nerves for what was coming next; the bedding. thankfully, the queen had insisted upon a private bedding, just as she did for her other children when they wed. the action soothed your nerves a bit, but they still clung to you.

you had been warned by your mother that the bedding was an uncomfortable and painful process for the woman. but she also informed you that it is something all woman must do to please their lord husband and produce heirs.

you felt your heart sink when the king stood up weakly to announce it was time for you and aemond to head to your chambers. you both stood up and gave your goodbyes, your mother giving you a reassuring smile before you left.

there was an awkward silence as you walked with your husband to your chambers, escorted by guards. you glanced at him, only to see him looking straight ahead, blank expression on his handsome face.

once you arrived the guards pushed open the heavy wooden doors. you gave them a small smile in thanks before aemond dismissed them. as the doors closed aemond let out a small shaky sigh, you couldn't tell if it was out of nervousness or dread. you both stood awkwardly, unsure of where to begin. he spoke first, breaking the deafening silence.

"would you like help taking down your hair?" he blurted out. you nodded, giving him a awkward small smile.

"please," you moved past him to sit at the vanity. you began taking out the many odd placed pins and braids in your hair. aemond came up from behind you to start assisting in the process. the feeling of his long fingers in your hair made up for the times he would accidentally tugged too hard trying to take down the hairstyle. you both worked in silence, the only word spoken was his occasional 'sorry's when he would notice you wince.

now that your hair was down, the room was once again filled with an thick silence. eventually you stood up, turning to face him. you sucked in a breath, looking up at him nervously.

"should i..... should I remove my clothes, my prince?"

his eyes widened at the question, but he nodded, "yes, my lady... I can help."

he moved behind you, undoing the laces of the dress with shaky fingers. the gorgeous dress fell to the floor, pooling around your feet. you stepped out of the dress, leaving you in a silky shift and small clothes. you felt quite vulnerable as you begun taking your shift off, even more so once it was gone.

aemond let out a shaky breath at the sight of you in nothing but your small clothes. he looks up and down your body, desire filling his eye. he walks closer to you, looking deep into your eyes.

"may I kiss you, my lady?" he asked, his usual cold tone gone, now replaced with a soft, caring one. you nod, eyes wide.

aemond smiled softly before leaning down and kissing your soft lips. this kiss was unlike the other one you both had shared just hours before. this one was out of pure want, not obligation.

you gasp softly against his lips when he deepened the kiss, your hands flying up to his strong shoulders. his hands found home on your hips. he pulled away just enough to whisper against your lips, "is this okay?"

you nod, staring up at him with wide eyes. "yes, my prince, I just... I don't really know how to do this properly."

he smiles at you softly, moving one of his hands to caress your cheek gently.

"that's okay, just copy what I do, okay?"

he leans back in, kissing at a slow pace. his lips are soft and warm against your own. you feel something wet poking at your bottom lip and soon realize it's his tongue. you open your mouth slightly and gasp when he slides his tongue in, exploring where he can reach. the sensation causes a soft whimper to fall from your lips.

he begins pushing you backwards gently until the back of your knees hit the edge of the plush bed behind you, causing you to lay down on it. to your surprise, aemond gets on his knees before you and pulls you down so your legs hang off the bed. leaning up on your elbows you look down at him extremely confused. "my prince... what are you doing?"

he simply smiled and blushed, "let me know if you wish to stop, okay my lady?". his big calloused hands went up and down your thighs, pulling them apart. you laid back, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. his hands eventually found their way to your small clothes.

"may I remove these, my lady?" one hand continued rubbing you thigh gently. you hum and nod. that wasn't good enough apparently and aemond lightly pinched your thigh. "words, wife. I need to hear some words out of those pretty lips."

you blushed deeply, taking a deep breath, "yes, please take them off."

he smiles, murmuring under his breath "good girl". you felt a tingle in your lower belly, growing each time he touched or talked to you.

he carefully slid your small clothes off, throwing them somewhere in the room. he sucked in a big breath at the sight of your bare cunt. you squirmed slightly, his gaze lighting you on fire almost.

"may I touch you, wife?" he spoke softly, a poorly hidden desire behind the words.

you nod but quickly remember what he told you. "yes, you may."

with one hand he softly rubbed your thigh, with the other he rubbed one finger up and down your lips, pushing past them and exploring the wet outside. your back slightly arched at the unknown but not unwelcomed feeling. he moved his finger higher until he found your clit. a high pitched whimper escaped your lips at his soft but achingly good touch.

he looked up at you with a sweet smile. "does that feel nice, wife?". his finger moved in gentle circles, pressing ever so slightly.

a few breathy whimpers and moans slipped out of your mouth. "yes," you breathed, "so so nice..."

he let out a hmm, continuing his movements. he moved his finger up and down, gathering your wetness and then spreading it around your sensitive clit. as he rubbed on your bundle of nerves, his other hand came up, softly pressing against your slit.

"this may feel strange, my lady, but I promise it'll feel so good soon, okay?" he pushed a long thick finger into your previously untouched hole, groaning at how tight you were. your back arched off the bed as a loud moan rang around the room. he slowly started moving it in and out, sending waves of pleasure through your body when he curled his finger upwards. your gummy walls tightened around him, almost as tight as he cock felt in his trousers.

he looked up to see your reaction, smiling when he saw your head thrown back in pleasure. soft whimpers left your mouth as his movements quickened.

"may I add a second finger, sweet girl?" something about the way he said the affectionate name sent chills down your spine as you slightly bucked against his hand.

"hmmph, yes, yes please husband." he smirked as he added a second finger. he pumped them in and out fast, his other hand still focused on your puffy clit.

suddenly a new feeling hit you. like some sort of knot in your belly, ready to explode any second. a panicked expression washed over you at the strange sensation.

"aemond, aemond! something is, fuck, happening!" you cried desperately, clenching the sheets beneath you hard.

"shh, it's okay, it'll feel so good. just let it happen sweet girl." it was too much and too little, it was overwhelming yet you needed more. it hurt but felt so so right.

before you could reply waves and waves of pleasure washed over you, drowning you in the feeling of him. your whole body shook, hips bucking wildly into his hand. creamy white cum drooled onto his fingers and hand. he groaned at the sight and fucked you through your peak.

he eventually slid his hand out and climbed up the bed, hovering over you. he brought his cum covered fingers to you mouth, "open," he commanded softly, sucking in a shaky breath when you wrapped you lips around them. he pulled them out, moving to caress your cheek, "such a good girl."

he began kissing your neck, trailing his hand back down to your thighs. you whimpered sweetly causing him to chuckle.

"oh, sweet wife, we are just getting started."

#aemond Targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd #house of the dragon x reader #bay writes🌻

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most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer · 8 months

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Good Omens: Lockdown and Crowley not mentioning his living situation in S2*

*till S2E6 when he asks if he can have his apartment back bc he's bored of living in his car but Aziraphale doesn’t hear bc mentally he’s in Alpha Centauri.

Having read the 'Crowley doesn't tell him' Neil Gaiman ask close to when I first listened to Lockdown (I lived under a rock until recently), my initial thought was HAS HE BEEN LIVING IN HIS CAR FOR YEARS?! but I think he was still in his apartment in 2020:

as far as Hell knows, Crowley just had a pool party in holy water (the holiest) so the higher-ups are probably willing to give him some space (plus Beelzebub is busy going on pub dates w Gabriel)

while there should be ~8 months between the end of Season 1 events (The Very First Day of the Rest of Their Lives on Sunday, Aug 25, 2019) and the Lockdown phonecall (on or near the 30 year anniversary on May 1, 2020), I can't imagine that's a very long time for Hell, especially if you're understaffed and busy dealing with fallout from Almostgeddon / going on pub dates

Shax dropping off mail and asking about the boiler seems like something one does in the first few months of living somewhere, not ~3 years in (if S2 is in 2023)

That said, I think the phone call underlines why Crowley never directly tells Aziraphale that he is living in the Bentley in S2, and it's just a great conversation (all hail Gaiman) sooo I wrote about it:

***Note: This post analyzes the Lockdown phonecall from Crowley's perspective only. Our heroine is feeling quite emotionally vulnerable at this point in time so things are going to hit him harder than they normally would.

I do not think Aziraphale meant to cause him pain (!!) but Crowley can't see that yet and I've written this post in a way that reflects that missing insight. (I explain in more detail in this reblog if you are interested) I am working on a companion post for Aziraphale's side of this conversation and how I think it affects his behavior in S2 because if we know anything about these two, it's that their exactlys are different exactlys.***

Crowley’s habit of sleeping to skip time like an RPG character by a campfire amuses me to no end, but in this context it feels heavy. Crowley already worries about losing time with what he loves and he probably hoped things would be different between him and Aziraphale after the events of S1. But things don’t change much. Then lockdowns start, and Crowley is trapped in his apartment alone, transcendentally bored, and unable to make his brain shut up. Sleeping a month away starts to sound less awful.

But Crowley hasn’t given up yet; he’s still awake when Aziraphale calls, and he’s even giving it two more days. Was he waiting for Aziraphale to call? Is it even possible not to at least kind of wait for someone’s call when you are cut off from everything and the caller has been your only friend and crush for millennia?

Aziraphale asks why Crowley isn't "out and about" tempting people or setting a bad example and he responds:

C: Everyone's so miserable and cooped up right now anyway, and I just… well… don't have the heart for it. A: *glowing audibly* I'm not miserable~ C: Really?

Crowley sounds genuinely surprised at Aziraphale's happiness and quickly assumes it's because the angel has been around people. He's so lonely/depressed/in his own head that he hadn't even considered someone enjoying being 'cooped up'. *sob*

Aziraphale goes No actually I put the closed sign up in the window and I'm having the Time of My Life, never had so few customers, not in 200 years!, etc. Although, he says:

A: …There were a few young lads a couple of nights ago who broke in through the back and tried to steal the cashbox! But they soon saw the error of their ways~ C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth? A: Well I certainly gave them a good talking to, and I sent each of them home with cake~ C: *annoyed, swooning* Cake? A: Quite a lot of cake, actually. C: *physically ill from having such a giant crush on this dumbass baker/security guard* eeeekkkgghhh I'm gonna regret asking but.. ...rrgh.. *30 seconds of Aziraphale joyfully describing his baking while Crowley probably tries very hard not to imagine the angel eating each item in sensual slow motion* I stg you can hear him struggling in the background once or twice

A: …And once I've baked them, I have to eat them all myself, which was why I was so delighted— C: To send your burglars home laden with baked goods, yes, nnyeaayeah I follow…

Crowley interrupts, finishing Aziraphale's sentence in his nervous hurry to say the next bit:

C: *loud inhale* You know, I could.. hunker down at your place. … Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle--a case of… something… drinkable…?

He's trying to sound so casual about it but this is someone who was rejected/abandoned by actual literal God after asking what he thought were welcome, uncontroversial questions. Asking makes him vulnerable. He's supposed to be the rescuer, not a demon in distress. He does not feel casual about asking.

Crowley knows it's unlikely but he's so miserable and desperate for company that he can't help but ask, just in case. Even the smallest chance of spending time trapped indoors with Aziraphale—with nothing to do but drink, watch him eat, and talk about things they'd normally avoid—is too tempting.

A: *panicking* Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over. C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*

And just like that, Crowley doesn't need two days to decide. The depression nap doubles in length. He doesn't hear how badly Aziraphale wants to say yes behind the fear, or maybe he does and it hurts worse because why isn't Crowley enough for him? You can almost hear the spiralling:

SHOCKING, asking made it worse. It always does doesn’t it? Why even bother? you just embarrass yourself.. SLITHER over? why did I say that *grumble grumble* of COURSE His Holy Holiness, your only friend in the universe, would rather eat cake by himself while everything goes to shit than ~deign~ to have you in his presence. "AsK aND yE sHaLl ReCeIvE" bugger this for a lark im going to bed

(a bit dramatic but we've all been there)

I imagine sleep doesn't come right away. Maybe his thoughts drift to when he sat beside the angel at a dark Tadfield bus stop after a rather eventful Saturday. Crowley must've felt a tiny bit hopeful when he invited Aziraphale to stay with him: Heaven had withdrawn its favor and the bookshop was gone; Aziraphale was like him now. Didn't that mean things would change?

"I don't think my side would like that." Apparently not.

In the end, Aziraphale did ride the bus back to Crowley's apartment and stayed till the next morning when he caught a cab, but only to sell the illusion. Crowley understood that as far as sides went, the angel was still on Heaven's, even if Heaven wasn't on his.

And now this: the entire world is shut down; there is nothing for Aziraphale to do but stay in and read and bake in his magically reconstituted bookshop and he still won't invite Crowley in. Burglars and un-fallen angels only—nobody who asks questions.

So... of course Crowley doesn't tell Aziraphale when he loses his apartment. He already knows what answer he would get; the angel has told him so many times. Aziraphale is a company man first, a companion to one very sad owl when convenient.

If Crowley works up the courage to say 'please take me in, I have nowhere else to go' and Aziraphale goes 'sorry, no, far too political, but I WILL risk being erased from the Book of Life to protect this nude amnesiac former coworker who always hated me,' it's going to be too much. You can't sleep long enough for that type of hurt to go away. Better not to say anything.

"Then nothing has to change, does it?"

#edited to add the note about crowley's perspective right after the cut! apologies if it seemed anti-aziraphale before!#good omens meta #good omens lockdown #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorcees #i can't even imagine navigating the pandemic brain scramblies while pining THAT HARD #Aziraphale is a company man (gn) but i think S3 will cure him of that #long but if i can't write essays about this on tumblr then where #good omens spoilers

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wwinterwitch · 4 months

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buy me presents — joel miller

summary: you and your ex situationship reunite at a christmas party

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

word count: 3.1K

tags: age gap (mid 40s and mid 20s), no outbreak, you fell hard and didn't know he fell harder bc he's an idiot!, miscommunication, angst, awkward reunion, everything gets fixed at the end tho don't worry, tommy is featured

note: i've been listening to fruitcake non-stop and i had this little idea that turned into an entire fic. it was kinda shitty at first but i decided to give it a try anyway

reblog or comment if you enjoy please!

all masterlists | pedro pascal masterlist

You always thought that going after older guys meant having absolutely no problems when it came to maturity and commitment. Guys your age are so good at playing games, keeping you guessing, too afraid to make it official.

So, evidently, when you met Joel at his workshop you were over the moon. He was charming, incredibly handsome and single. You still remember his attractive smile and the way he'd lean way too close to you, offering to fix the piece of furniture that you showed up with that day in exchange for a nice dinner and your phone number.

Everything looked good in the beginning. He was a true gentleman, so sincere and attentive, and you were foolish enough to believe he actually considered you special enough to pursue a relationship with you.

In your defense, he really tricked you. Showing you pictures of his daughter, taking you out on countless dates, interested to know as much of you as possible, texting non-stop...it was like a dream come true. After many terrible relationships with pathetic and insecure little boys, you found a wonderful man willing to give you exactly what you were craving.

But then everything changed after seeing each other for almost four months. Because he'd always get super defensive whenever you asked him why you always had to meet at your apartment and never at his house. Or why he refused to introduce you to his family. Or why he kept introducing you to people that happened to see the two of you together as 'a friend of his'.

Tired of this uncertainty, you decided to confront him. It was a very messy conversation. You asked what you were, he said he didn't know. You asked if he had any intentions of asking you to officially be his girlfriend, he said he probably wouldn't. You cried, he didn't know what to do about it.

You kicked him out of your apartment that day and that was the last time you ever heard of him. No texts, no calls, no one waiting outside your apartment or showing up at your work with a well-deserved apology.

Were you just stupid for thinking he was into you the way you were into him? Did you get your hopes too high a little too soon? Was there something wrong with you? Were you overreacting?

Yes, no, whatever– you wanted someone to go all the way with you, thought it was Joel, and he turned out to be like every other guy you've met. It sucks, but you gotta move on. You've dealt with a lot of shitty men to know better than to suffer for one.

The heartbreak Joel caused soon turned into a mixture of disappointment and annoyance before it turned into nothing but an unpleasant memory. Soon enough, Joel Miller was out of your mind, and you were more than ready to jump right in into the dating world again. Maybe it was pathetic, but you still refused to lose hope that the right guy will show up in your life and change things for the better.

You kept your options open for a while, not wanting to immediately rush into something like you did with Joel. If any of these guys you're seeing want to keep you to themselves, they'll have to put that extra effort. You're just tired of always chasing after them.

A whole month went by and you never heard from Joel again, which was completely fine by you. He doesn't even cross your mind at this point. He's probably spending all his hours at his workshop, keeping his nights free for his no-commitment dates. And probably getting ready for the holiday season too.

Christmas has always been your favorite holiday. There's something about it that cheers you up like no other festivity. Maybe it's the decor, the food, the fact that it's everywhere you look...it's always been a magical time.

You also love the parties and gatherings around this time of year, so you immediately agreed to be someone's date to one of them. You met this guy a few weeks ago– three years older than you, tall, dreamy eyes and great in bed. There was no reason as to why the two of you couldn't have a good time at this little party...or so you thought.

He casually mentions who's hosting on the way there. A friend from work, he said while offering you a hand to help you out of his car. His good ol' buddy Tommy Miller.

Your smile practically drops at the mention of that name, immediately going back to that date at the bowling alley. Joel bought a large portion of nachos to share after you completely beat his ass at bowling (he totally let you win, he said), remembering the way he talked about a brother named Tommy.

But...surely this is all a coincidence. The universe couldn't possibly hate you that much, right? At one point you almost thought you were crazy for even thinking of the possibility of this friend being the brother. There has to be a million Tommy Millers out there. It's such a common name!

What are the odds of this actually happening? That you're really going to Joel Miller's brother's Christmas party? And even if you are, that doesn't guarantee that you'll see Joel there.

And why should you care? You haven't spoken in so long, he probably doesn't even think about you when he hears something that could potentially relate to you. He doesn't think about the chances of reuniting with you for longer than a second. He surely doesn't think about you at all! You should give him the same treatment.

Holding onto your date's arm, you walked inside the impeccably decorated apartment. Red and white everywhere you look, with a large table filled with various snacks, a lit fireplace that gives the room a much cozier look, and a Christmas tree standing tall on one of the corners of the living room.

Tommy Miller was at the entrance greeting the two of you and enthusiastically introducing himself to you. Nerves were starting to overtake you because shit, there's definitely some resemblance.

Still, you tried to ignore your racing mind, wanting to have a good time with this great guy who's glad to keep you close to him, introducing you to all his friends in a manner someone should introduce their date. You feel important next to him, like he's really trying to show you off. Something Joel failed to do.

Eventually, you were able to relax when you got to meet everyone at the apartment and realized Joel wasn't there. With a beer in hand and a polite smile on your face, you joined a conversation by the fireplace, talking amicably and genuinely thinking the night was safe.

That is, until you heard the doorbell.

You watched Tommy walking towards the door, immediately opening his arms wide to receive whoever just arrived. When the stranger leans forward for the hug Tommy was offering, your smile completely fades when you notice it was none other than Joel.

He walks inside the apartment and leaves his jacket hanging by the door, taking a quick look around. You immediately turn around, not wanting him to recognize you– yes, it was stupid because he'll sooner or later notice your presence, but maybe you can avoid the awkward encounter for a few more seconds.

It takes everything in you not to turn around again, putting your hand on your date's back as you lean closer to him, trying to seek any kind of comfort you possibly could. He immediately wraps his arm around your waist, inevitably making you smile. God, this guy really knows how to treat you exactly the way you want it.

Unfortunately, Joel reaches the group of people you were talking to. He starts greeting everyone until his eyes land on you, standing there completely speechless for a few seconds before a smile appears on his face.

He leans forward for a quick kiss on the cheek as a way to greet you, and you barely move away from your date to return the greeting, moving back immediately to refugee on the guy's side.

"You two know each other?" your date asks. You almost wanted to kill him.

You stay quiet, deciding to leave Joel the responsibility to answer. It's genuinely intriguing to see what he has to say.

"Uh, yeah..." he starts, clearing his throat. "I think...you took a coffee table to my workshop for a repair?"

Wow. Glad to see things haven't changed in the slightest! Of course you two just met each other for a little repair. Of-fucking-course! It's not like he woke up completely naked next to you on your bed more times than you'd like to admit out loud.

"Yes. Exactly," you faked a smile, agreeing with his statement.

That was pretty much the only thing you said to each other. After greeting everyone he quickly joined a completely different group to talk to (because it's obvious he couldn't handle being close to you for much longer). You actually appreciated that, making the task of ignoring him until you left that apartment just that much easier.

Things went downhill when your date had to go to the bathroom and you decided to get another beer from the kitchen. You didn't notice Joel following you, and by the time you did realize, he was standing in front of the exit, blocking it entirely.

"Oh, hey, workshop guy!" you greeted with fake enthusiasm, sarcasm dripping from your words.

You hear Joel sigh, and as if that didn't piss you off enough he decided to open his mouth. "Yeah, I figured you'd get upset."

"Then why did you say it?"

He raised a brow. "What, you wanted me to tell everyone– your date included, that we were seeing each other like a month ago?"

The kitchen was completely silent after that. Perhaps he had a point there, but it was impossible to deny you were still hurt by the way things ended and how poorly he treated you, so that last thing you'd ever do is admit he's right.

"I thought perhaps now that it's done, you wouldn't care about keeping it a secret anymore," you shrugged defensively.

He smiles softly, seeing right through you. "Perhaps I've just never been the type to kiss and tell."

Again, you didn't have much to say, so you just scoffed. "Whatever."

Much to your irritation, he laughs. A low, deep chuckle escapes him before he's looking at you up and down. "You look good."

"I know."

Another chuckle. "Of course you do," he sighs, the smirk on his face fading. "You always look fucking incredible."

You stand there like a complete fool, taken by surprise when you hear him say that. It sounds so...defeated? Is that even a thing? As you try to come up with an answer to that, you just look back at him with a lost expression.

"Is there a point to this conversation?" you eventually ask.

Now it's him who's looking back at you in complete silence. Unfortunately, you know him enough to know there's something in his mind and he's not telling you anything about it. He's hesitating, doubting, the engines in his brain moving faster than ever.

For a moment, you thought he'd say whatever random bullshit he can come up with in that very moment and be done with it. And you'd roll your eyes because you know that's not what he wanted to say, right before moving him away from the door so you can go back to the party.

But in a surprising turn of events, he doesn't do that. He looks at you with nothing but honesty, and you even catch the smallest glimpses of hope when he speaks. "Yeah," he answers your question. "I've missed you like crazy."

If you were speechless before, it's almost impossible to even remember how words work right now. Never in a million years would you've expected Joel Miller to confess he misses you. Not when it was you who was always trying to arrange dates. Not when it was always you the one remaining him you really liked him and him barely saying anything back.

Maybe he just needed a wake up call? Had to live that 'you don't know what you've got until it's gone' type of situation to realize how he feels?

Your heart beats faster as you process his words. He's missed you like crazy.

Still, despite feeling so fuzzy inside, you show none of it on the outside. "No," you promptly warn him. "No, no. We're not doing that."

"What?"

"That, Joel!" you exclaim, frustrated. "You can't break my heart and then say shit like that when we happen to meet by accident."

"Is it an accident?" he asks shortly after.

You chuckle sarcastically. "Oh, so is this some Christmas miracle? The festive season brought us together because of some nonsensical fate-thingy that's written up there in the stars?"

Joel looks slightly embarrassed, letting out another frustrated sigh. Before he can answer, you hear footsteps down the hall that leads to the kitchen so the two of you stay completely silent and turn around to see who it was.

"Hey...oh," Tommy says, his initial smile fading when he notices the tension between the two of you. He quickly raises both of his hands in the air as he walks towards the fridge to grab two beers. "Don't mind me, I just wanted to grab these," he quickly explains.

When he turns back around, he immediately focuses on his brother. At first he looked very confused, like silently trying to ask him what the hell is going on, a small smirk appearing on his face just seconds later. Without another word, he quickly makes his way outside the kitchen to give the two of you much needed privacy. You could feel your cheeks heating up after witnessing that little exchange.

Focusing back on you, Joel decides to continue the conversation. "Okay, if you put it like that of course it sounds silly..." he mutters, scratching the back of his neck. "But, I don't know, I’d like to think something out there wanted us to meet again so I could make it right."

"No," you repeat. "You had a chance to make it right as soon as I kicked you out of my apartment. There was a chance to pick up your phone and give me a call or send me a text or...anything, Joel– fucking anything!"

There's a brief pause, and you're so glad to see he has nothing to say because boy, oh boy did you have things to say.

"You don't get to come back a month later and claim to miss me when you didn't even try to get me back. And you were a real piece of shit with me, by the way. You really made me think we had something special, just to treat me like it was nothing," you continue, visibly upset by the incredibly uncomfortable and difficult situation he's putting you in. "You made me feel...you made me feel like I was some stupid little girl you only wanted to get into bed with."

He looks absolutely horrified by your last statement, taking a few steps forward until he's standing right in front of you. The proximity makes it so much worse, forcing you to look down at your shoes. He gently grabs your chin to force you to look into his eyes, and for some reason you allow it. Maybe you were vulnerable, maybe you wanted to feel his touch. Maybe both.

"I promise you, that was not my intention at all," he immediately assures you in the most serious voice you've ever heard coming from him. "It was never just that. I was really falling for you."

You frowned, feeling so incredibly confused and frustrated. "Then why did you never show it?"

"Because I was dumb and I was scared," he reveals simply. It surprises you how honest he's being, how you don't have to ask more to get information out of him. "You were the first woman I started developing actual feelings for after my divorce, and at the time I thought things were moving too fast between us and...I didn't know how to handle it."

Joel can tell you're still not having none of it, so he decides to continue. "I really wanted to be with you officially, but I guess my insecurities got the best of me. I'm just an old man and you're gorgeous, and young, and...Jesus Christ, darling, you're the most amazing person I've ever met," he sighs again, hoping you'd understand what was going on in his head when he made the terrible decision of letting you go. "I didn't want to fuck it up or get my heart broken again...but I totally did fuck it up, and the worse thing is that I broke your heart in the process. I'll forever be sorry for that."

You were speechless yet again, and Joel didn't know how to take that. Are you going to say something nice or are you going to yell at him and tell him to go fuck himself? The uncertainty was eating him alive at this point.

Eventually, you speak up. "You did fuck it up," you agree. "Like, big time."

He sighs yet again, nodding. "Yes, I did. And I know I don't deserve it, but I'd like to have a second chance to prove to you just how much I care about you," he continues, not giving up this time. He couldn't live with himself if he managed to lose you twice. "To give you all that you deserve, to be there for you, to show the world how happy I am that you're my girl...I'd make it right."

Letting go of your chin, he moves his hand to the side of your face, anxiously waiting for an answer. The fact that you're not pushing him away is already a good sign, because he knows you're capable of throwing a beer bottle at him for saying what he just said.

You considered your options. There's a guy outside in the living room waiting for you. There's a bunch of other guys on your phone that'd run to your doorstep if you give them the chance. All of them have behaved better than Joel...but you can't fool yourself.

Even if you combine all of them, there's no way that everything you've shared with them can come close to what you experienced with Joel. You've never liked anyone so much before, and holy shit how badly you've missed him.

If he thought your proximity was a good sign, the soft smile that appears on your face makes him relax considerably, almost wanting to pull you in for a hug and start thanking you already.

"I guess you can take me out to dinner or something to prove you're sorry," you eventually reply, making him grin from ear to ear. You notice he's leaning even closer with the intention of kissing you, but you quickly stop him. "Don't even think about it. You'll have to earn the right to do that."

Joel silently agrees to that arrangement, immediately taking a step back from you, the smile on his face never disappearing. He doesn't care that you're not kissing him right now, not when you agreed to give him a chance. That's more than enough for him. The best Christmas gift he could've ever received.

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller #pedro pascal characters #joel miller angst #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel x reader #Spotify

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strongheartneteyam · 10 months

Text

Realize where you belong.

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!dreamwalker!reader/female!human!reader

Chapter 4

CW: jealous neteyam, angst, restless neteyam, obsessive and toxic behavior, mentions of violence, neteyam's current mental health is not the best out there (let's put it that way), the word "bloody" being mentioned in someone's thoughts, TRIGGER WARNING for dubious consent and slight NON CON, angry thoughts, melancholic reader, hints of depression on reader, anxious reader, mentions of breeding kink, reader thinking a lot about neteyam, reader finds out she's crushing on neteyam, reader is afraid of neteyam + attracted to him, neteyam stepping over reader's boundaries, creepy yandere vibes, slight nudity, sexual tension, neteyam almost trying to have sex with reader (if you squint)

Not proofread… as always 😂 I'm so sorry PLS don't give up on me, my babies! My readers are my lil rays of sunshine! No false praising here, I'm way too much of an honest, and sometimes blunt bih to do that! Ahaha you guys have changed my life. Having you guys reading my stories, appreciating my art… I'm still speechless. I love y'all until the end! 🥲🥺🫀💕 when I'm sad, you guys cheer me up with your comments, reblogs, asks, likes… I'm forever thankful ✨ I'm sending A BIG KITH to everyone that commented on the other chapters! I didn't have enough time and mental/physical health to answer everyone bc I've been going through some tough things in my personal life lately. Like, REAL tough. But I always do my best to try and show my gratitude to all of you <3 hope you enjoy this chapter. Leave comments below if u wanna I LOOOOVE READING YOUR COMMENTS 🥰💕💕💕

Chapter 3

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Watching me, wanting me

I can feel you pull me down

Fearing you, loving you

I won't let you pull me down

Haunted (Evanescence)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Hours had passed since Neteyam Suli had appeared to you in the window of the kitchen you worked in.

It was late at night already and you should be sleeping but, you just could not stop thinking about what had happened. How weird it had been to see a real na'vi - not an Avatar - real close. How odd he looked in your eyes, massive in size and so, so blue...

You laughed alone in your small room in the back of the laboratory after taking a quarter of a second to realize that the thought you just had was actually really funny.

Neteyam looked like a huge and thick brushstroke of sky blue paint. Still, he was… incredibly beautiful. He was eerie, weird looking compared to the human guys you're used to, but… something about him made his face linger on your mind.

You did not know how it was possible that you were finally having to admit to yourself that you felt attracted to Neteyam Suli, even after he appeared to you only once and, let's not forget, he appeared completely unanticipated, saying he had seen you before, multiple times.

You knew that raised like a billion red flags. Yet still, even though you did not feel safe enough to trust him or let your hair down when he was around, he intrigued you immensely.

༊⁀➷

You woke up the next morning feeling anxious. You did not know what it was exactly, but, lately, you had not only been depressed, but anxious too. You knew you probably would be diagnosed with clinical depression and anxiety if you cared to go to the mental health department of the laboratory, but the thing was… you did not care to. You did not want to. The real reason for your lingering sadness was already so familiar to you: you did not like the life you were living.

You looked to be free like the na'vi. To not have deadly boring obligations everyday, to not have to care so much about so many strict rules of what was socially acceptable and what was not. You thought your own race to be too complicated. Humans don't really say what they mean just so many times. Humans care too much about money and power when, in reality, deep down, we all know that's not what's gonna make us happy, what's gonna keep us warm in a cold night.

But you were never really like that.

Not to pretend you were a golden, precious jewel, so incredibly hard to find, so utterly different from everybody else but, in all honesty, as much as you did care about money and having a comfortable life - to some extent - you were never a greedy for riches kind of person. You had always felt perfectly happy and content to just have a few things to keep you cozy, like your earbuds, a good book, your favorite sweet treat… You liked it simple. Calm. Balanced.

You believed that everything needs to be balanced to work well.

Chaos and light. Pain and happiness.

People need all of it to learn, grow and live a good life, that doesn't get painfully boring and unbearable with time.

But humans lacked balance.

Too much greed, too little contentment. Too much hate, too little compassion. Too much selfishness, too little altruism. That's why your kind was, as unfortunate as it was, doomed to misery. The human race dug their own grave. God, they couldn't even respect and take care of their own planet, their own home, the place that kept them literally safe and steady in the middle of the immense galaxy, let alone being able to take care of each other, to consider other's feelings before their own because, sometimes, we all need to do it.

And that's one of the reasons why you admired the na'vi so much. They were so much more wise than your own race.

How many times you had wished, talking to yourself in the dark of the night, that you could have been born na'vi. Why was fate so cruel to you? You did not even believe in fate. But it is only an expression, anyway.

༊⁀➷

Neteyam was tossing around on his mat since he went back home from training.

Yesterday he was way too busy to try and go see you or at least watch you from afar.

Sometimes he truly felt exhausted from his hectic routine and just wished he could be like Lo'ak and the other Omatikaya young men and just be able to relax more, to have more free time to engage in hobbies or, Eywa... to have more time to sleep... Sometimes he went back home all sore. He was as athletic as one can be but it did not mean he could not feel jaded after pushing himself too hard.

But Neteyam tried to always keep in mind the noble, sacred reason why he did all that. He was going to be the next leader of his clan, a privileged position, blessed by the Great Mother. A position that so many wished to have and he was lucky enough to be waiting to take on.

He was the current Olo'eyktan's son. It was a gift, he should not be ungrateful. He felt bad for thinking that was exactly what he was being... His father, Jake, was Toruk Makto. He was brave enough to earn that title. Neteyam felt it was his duty to be as brave and fearless as his father, to honor him and all his efforts to defend their tribe from any danger, specially from the Sky People.

Everything was going as usual, if it was not for only one thing: Lo'ak seemed to be suspicious of the fact that Neteyam was out for so many hours, almost everyday (meaning, every time he was free to just do whatever he wanted and not training to become the next Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya) and nobody had a clue of where he was.

His parents seemed to be too busy being the Olo'eyktan and the Tsahìk to notice something seemed off about Neteyam's behavior lately. And it is understandable. It was anything but easy to be the clan leader and the clan healer and spiritual leader. Mo'at was getting old and had passed the position of Tsahìk to Neytiri a while ago. So, Jake and Neytiri already were making such a huge effort to be able to live up to their duties, be parents of a little girl, Tuktirey, three teenagers and still keep their sanity. It was a lot, indeed. But they tried as hard as they could to still be good enough for their clan, their family and for each other, as a mated couple.

Neteyam decided he was way too restless to be able to sleep that night. He could not stop thinking about the way that human male talked to you, looked at you... He wondered if he really was your mate. He was not sure but if what he thought when he saw you two together was true, he knew it would not be a problem. He hated to get violent, his natural self was calm and composed. But he was going to fight for you, and, if it needed to get bloody, then so be it.

He decided to go outside his and his family's home, to breathe some cold, fresh eclipse air. It helped him to calm down a bit but it was not enough. He missed you. Like crazy. Deeply. He craved your scent… your delicious human scent. He did not even believe he was saying that about the way a human smelled. But he would always insist in saying you were different. You had a na'vi heart. Just like his father, back when he was still all pink and small.

He decided he wanted… no, he needed to see you. And it could not wait. It had to be now. He craved you and that craving would not go away like that. It was stronger than his rational brain. You woke up his animal side more than anything else did. He wanted to mate with you as soon as possible. He dreamt about the day he would be able to breed you, have you carrying his offspring on your womb. He would make you so happy, give you everything you've ever wanted, everything you need. And while you were still not permanently living inside your Avatar body, he still wanted to have you, even if it meant having you in your demon form. You were a pretty, lovely demon. His cute, sweet demon girl. His yawntutsyìp. (little loved one)

༊⁀➷

You just could not believe it was really happening, how the hell you got into those circumstances.

Right before that moment, you were almost sleeping peacefully, finally (you know that state when you're not awake nor asleep?), after having been awake, tossing around on your bed for hours for the most ridiculous reason you could ever think of: you were undeniably crushing on that weird alien boy. Neteyam Suli.

Yes, he acted like a creep when he tapped on your window. You knew it was pathetic but… he just would not leave your mind. He was shamefully living rent free in your brain. All cozy there.

But the worst and craziest part was: you were still afraid of him.

Ok, the na'vi were a peaceful, highly intelligent (arguably much more smart, interesting and wiser than humans) alien race but he was still almost 10 feet tall and was so freaking intimidating. You shivered at the thought that he could ever hurt you, even by accident, one day.

Still, you were now here with him. Outside the laboratory. Because he put his goddamn eerie but cute (the guy is a complete paradox) looking ocean colored fingers through the tiny gap you left open in your bedroom window - a passage you left for air to come in when it was really hot and dry, like it was that night - and that made a strange noise, enough to put you in alert mode.

Damn, what a bad habit… Leaving the window open, even slightly, was not even permitted by the people who took care of the lab's security norms. That could be dangerous. But you had always been a stubborn little thing.

You were now regretting your decisions, though.

Neteyam approached your window being what he could be like a pro: a crazy stalker.

How you were still attracted to him… even though you were fearful of his na'vi build and strength… that was a question that maybe a mental health professional could answer. It was weird and problematic and you knew it. But you never imagined you would feel like this about Neteyam Suli. You really did not. When you first saw him, he seemed cute and handsome in your eyes, but he was still an alien. You had never considered being attracted to one. But now… nothing made sense anymore, things were getting weird.

Stupidity took over you when you were so sleepy and groggy and you saw it was his huge hand on the wooden window, so, you wanted to ask him why he ran away the last time you two spoke. You know when you're so sleepy, you make the most unimaginably silly mistakes? So… there you go. You dragged your heavy with slumber body out of your bed, grabbed your oxygen mask that was kept inside your closet and opened the window.

But why, though?

In the beginning, you two were having a trivial talk about mundane stuff, like how he learned the English language (his father, of course), he started to ask how and why you got an Avatar etc

He acted suspicious but still normal-ish, for a na'vi. They always looked mysterious when interacting with humans. But then, when he was telling you about his little sister, Tuktirey, and your eyes were slowly falling shut, your body begging for some hours of sleep… you felt a change in the atmosphere around you.

Your eyes had closed for a while, on their own, and suddenly, you knew Neteyam was really close to you, now. He had been keeping a respectful distance in the beginning. But now… now he was inches away from your body. He had moved closer, his fleshy but toned blue thigh almost rubbing against your leg, as you were sitting sideways on the window frame, your legs hanging in the air, making you feel a bit cold because of the nighttime Pandoran air.

You woke up from your 5 seconds long involuntary nap really startled.

"Hey! Why are you… so close?" You looked at him, dazed and nervous, visibly shaken

"Sorry… Is it too much? You're just… so pretty…" Neteyam says, looking at you like he's looking at a graceful, otherworldly being.

"Yeah. It is." You warn him "Can you… step away a bit, please?" You said, looking into his eyes. Your gaze serious but amiable.

Neteyam respected your request and did what was decent. But you did not expect that he would soon change his demeanor, just like something was taking over him.

You were so distracted with your chat with Neteyam but so utterly sleepy too that you did not notice when your nightgown's thin strap slipped through your right shoulder, leaving your breast exposed, your nipple out for Neteyam to see.

It was like a beast had replaced that nice-but-weird-vibes guy you were previously talking to.

Neteyam had just lifted you off of the window with amazing ease, your feet now touching the ground and he got closer to you again. He had you with your back against the lab's outer wall, keeping you there just by being in front of you, looking at you.

His size was enough to keep you still. You did not want him to maybe get mad at you if you tried to run away. That could become terrifying in a heartbeat. You were brave since a child, but you were also realistic. Your height and body strength was nothing compared to Neteyam's.

He looked at your exposed breast with such desire, you felt like his amber gaze was scorching your sensitive skin.

"Neteyam! What-?"

"You're so… perfect." His breath was labored while he stared down at your nipple, hardened by the cold temperature of the eclipse air "Sevin…" (pretty)

"I'm so afraid of you, Neteyam... You're too big and honestly...scary. I'm so sorry. I'm always trying to pick up signals that may indicate you're gonna hurt me. I don't feel comfortable at all right now. Please, let me go" You said as your cold, anxious hands took your nightgown strap back to where it belonged, covering your boob again, feeling ashamed of the vulnerable way you had just been seen by Neteyam, ashamed of the fact that he, a boy you barely knew, had just seen your naked breast, even if it was only for a brief period of time

"My cute little 'emyu…" (cook, cooker) "You don't need to be afraid of me." He smiles at you in such a sincere way, trying to show you he means no harm whatsoever.

Though Neteyam felt his heart tightening way too much inside his chest, hurting so much it was like you had crushed it when you said you're afraid of him, he was carefully trying to make you see he would never in a billion years harm you, his precious little yawne (loved one).

He wished so hard, even prayed to Eywa, in a millisecond, inside his mind, that you would soon realize he loved you so much he would kill anyone who ever hurt your precious, frail human body. He could not understand how you could think he himself would do such a horrible thing towards you.

When Neteyam saw you did not show any sign that you were beginning to trust him more, he said:

"Hì'i," (little, small in size) "please... I need you... I love your scent so much. I miss it everytime I'm away from you. I love the way your human skin smells. I do. I dream about you at night... " He gets closer to you slowly and carefully, caging you between the wall and his broad, crazily tall blue body, leaving no way for you to get away from him "C-can I touch you? Touch your skin?" Neteyam breathes, begging for you with his wide eyed gaze "Just for a little while, please..." He kneels down at the ground to be as close as he possibly can to your height "See? I'm not so tall anymore. Am I a little less scary now?" He smiles faintly, trying to cover his pain with a fake demonstration of joy.

Neteyam feels so insecure, without any guarantee that you will eventually let him in. But he will never give up on trying to be worthy of your love.

"You're always gonna be scary to me. Even when I'm in my Avatar, I think." Using a sharp na'vi knife to stab Neteyam's heart repeatedly would have hurt him less than that statement "I'm not as skilled as you are or experienced as you are when it comes to using a bow or anything like that. God, I can't even work a bow right. If you'd ever hurt me, even by accident I-"

"I can teach you." He interrupted "I will teach you everything I know about archery. I'm a great archer, you know? I like to call myself "Mighty Warrior". " He smiles, frowning a bit, trying to make a joke to make the situation a little lighter.

You seemed so afraid he was starting to not know what to do anymore to try to make you see you were safe with him. That he would defend you from any danger without any hesitation and not be the danger himself.

༊⁀➷

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tasteleeknow · 1 year

Note

Hiii i love your blog so much, I was wondering if I could request a comfort fic where Hyunjin gets sick while on tour and y/n takes care of him. 🥹

thank you so much love ♡ i shifted this a little to just him being sick in general bc idol!au isn't something i like to write. hope you enjoy anyway! i know this is late, i'm working through a backlog!

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader genre: fluff, slight angst. established relationship. word count: 600

"Would you lie down please?" you ask again, pushing on your boyfriend's shoulder gently in at attempt to get him back down to his pillow. He'd been sick when he got home last night. It was obvious. He'd denied it anyway, brushing off your attention and staying up until the morning hours. It was no surprise at all when he'd woken up today much sicker, his voice croaky and cheeks flushed.

He brushes you off again, attempting to stand. When he wobbles on his feet you attempt to catch him, not prepared for the full weight of him. You stumble back a step, tripping over a power cord and finding yourself falling backwards. You release him quickly, not wanting to pull him down with you. His arm reaches out to catch you, reflexes not as sharp as usual. He ends up on top of you, failing to catch you and losing his balance in the process.

You groan as his full bodyweight presses you into the carpet, compressing your lungs. He rolls off you onto his back, chest rising and falling deeply as he catches his breath. You frown, leaning over him and cradling his cheek in your palm. He's too warm and far too out of the breath.

"Please?" you ask again, struggling to keep your eyes from watering.

His eyes flick across your face and he lifts his hand to cover yours where you hold his cheek. "Did I hurt you?" he asks, voice croaky and strangled.

You shake your head. "Just let me take care of you? You'd want to do the same for me, yeah?"

He sighs, then nods—letting you pull him up and helping him into bed. You pull the covers back and turn the temperature in the room down, attempting to cool him. "I'll be back in a sec, don't move," you instruct, attempting to put as much authority into your tone as possible. He offers you a small smile, nodding in agreement.

When you return he's staring at the ceiling, arm thrown over his head. He's clearly still hot, skin covered with a thin layer of sweat. You climb into the bed, setting your supplies down next to you. "Can you sit up for a second?" you ask, snaking your arm under his shoulders to help him up. He lets you help him as he swallows the medicine you've brought him.

"Stop frowning," he croaks when you lay his head back on his pillow gently.

"You should've let me look after you last night," you grumble.

He reaches for your hand, his clammy palm hot against yours. "Forgive me?"

"Just stop being sick."

He smiles. "I'll do my best," he says, lifting your hand to his lips to press a soft kiss to your skin. Then he frowns, eyes dropping to where his lips had been—as if he can see a mark he's left behind. "You should leave," he says.

"No," you answer quickly, dipping the small cloth you'd collected into a bowl of cold water you'd placed on the bedside table.

He grabs your wrist as you attempt to place the wet cloth over his forehead. "You'll get sick," he croaks out.

"I slept next to you for hours. If I'm going to get it, I've caught it already. Now, shut up."

He pouts, releasing your wrist and letting you press the cool fabric to his burning skin. Then he sighs, his tired eyes fluttering closed. You grab the other cloth from your pile of supplies and dip it in the water, using it to gently wipe the sweat from his neck, then his chest—repeating the process until his breathing evens out. You lift the now warm cloth from his forehead then press a gentle kiss to his skin.

please reblog and share your thoughts. caption, tags, replies, or ask box, i read it all. feedback is what motivates me to write more!

↳ general masterlist

#hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fanfic #kpop fluff #stray kids fluff #kpop imagines #skz fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #kpop scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #x reader #hyunjin drabbles

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obitohno · 2 years

Text

friend-zoned

hanma, draken, taiju, kazutora, sanzu, ran, rindou, nahoya, kokonoi, izana

synopsis ⤸

after two long years of being stuck in the friend-zone, you decide that you’ve had enough.

themes ⤸

fem! reader, 18+, smut, friends to lovers, mutual pining, nipple play, inverted nipples, reader with small breasts, rough sex, creampies, cowgirl, the dragon, size kink, size difference, first kiss, first time

word count ⤸

4.8k (unedited)

a/n ⤸

so, this is my first ever tokyo revengers au, yayay! i've only ever written in second person once before (for ao3), but i really wanted to give it another try bc i want to create more x reader fics, as they're my favourites to read... i hope that i did an okay job this time, n i really hope that you guys enjoy the read! tbh, although this can apply to any of those listed above, when i was writing, i actually had one character in mind, so it'd be interesting if you guys can guess which one :')

reblogs are appreciated ~

the friend-zone is a place reserved for those poor, pathetically unfortunate souls that are either pitied or ridiculed by their peers, and it is a place that he’d never thought that he’d ever fall victim to. but, on the day that he met what he can only describe as both the light and the bane of his existence—yes, you—the world had clearly decided that it was high time that he should be humbled for the first time in his life. and, so, for the past two years, the friend-zone is the place of which he’s been subject to, much to his chagrin, and one that he’s yet to escape. at first, he thought that you were just utterly clueless to the effect that you have on him, and he even went as far as to blame it on the fact that it’s just been fucking forever since he last got laid. but the more comfortable you grew around him, the less and less you seemed to view him as a man. and he was loathe to admit that that thought had sucker-punched his ego straight into next year. didn’t you know just how crazy you drove him whenever you greeted him at the door of your apartment, dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts and a scrap of fabric that he thinks is supposed to pass off as some sort a crop top? and surely you aren’t that oblivious to his gaze burning into the surface of your skin when he follows you inside, to the slow bobbing of the lump in his throat as he breathes in the scent of your home—of you—to the lazy crawl of the lopsided smirk that tilts the corner of his mouth every time you greet him?

no, he surmises. you must be doing it on purpose.

right now, the two of you are lounging in the living room after inhaling a hot bowl of soup, one that he’d reluctantly consumed after you’d insisted that it’d be good to for him because it’s cold outside when he’d turned his nose up when you told him what was on the menu for tonight. it most definitely wasn’t because he’d weakened at the sight of the downward tilt of your lips, for fuck’s sake, who the fuck did you think he was? still, his stomach is now warm with the heat of the spice that you’d used to season the broth, and he won’t admit it aloud, but you were right; it was good for him.

you’re rambling away next to him, something about sarah-the-office-bitch-from-work, but, truthfully, he’s not listening to a word, having already zoned out a good ten minutes ago. he’s too busy staring at your mouth, offering a low hum here and there whenever you pause to check for his reaction, his eyelids heavy as they slowly blink down toward the shadow of your collarbone.

‘you’re not listening,’ he hears the mild annoyed bite in your accusation. he manages a grin.

‘sorry, doll,’ he drawls, not sounding very sorry at all, far too tired to conjure a lie to placate you. you huff something undecipherable under your breath, shifting to cross your arms over your chest, which only serves to amplify the curve of your small bust as the modest-sized mounds are pushed upward. he’s not even trying to hide the way he stares at you—and for once, you take notice of the tense clenching of his jaw, a low breath exhaling from his nose.

his name is whispered between the small gap between you, and fuck, when had he leaned closer? his mouth is dry, despite him swallowing once, twice, thrice, for fuck’s sake, he needs a drink or something. but just as he’s leaning out of reach and making to stand from the settee, your hand catches the curve of his wrist, holding him still. his eyes meet yours, and to his absolute bafflement, the colour of your irises have darkened significantly. your cheeks are a little flushed, but he can’t tell if it’s from the spice in the soup, or if it’s because you’ve some kind of epiphany and finally realised that you want him just as much as he wants you.

god, he fucking hopes that it’s the latter.

and for a long, painfully quiet moment, you both stare at one another. your tongue darts out to parch your dry lips, and he’s almost embarrassed by how quickly his eyes snap to follow the motion before the muscle disappears from view once more.

neither of you are sure of who moves first.

his mouth is following after that tongue of yours, and when you next inhale, your breath is shared with his. the kiss is anything but sweet; it’s a feverish battle that has you moaning down his throat when his tongue presses against yours. he responds just as eagerly, long fingers tangling into the tresses of your hair, and tugging you closer until you’re panting against his lips. he’s just as breathless as you are, and once again, he’s humbled by the strain that his work trousers are suddenly subject to. but, he’s too busy with his mouth to feel embarrassed by how quickly his cock hardens between his legs—that, and he’s also too fucking horny to find it in him to actually give a shit.

at some point, he’s so distracted by the taste of the inside of your mouth that he fails to realise that your hands are slowly pressing to the meat of his thighs and eagerly gliding toward that spot that is rapidly warming with each heated sigh and gasp that is shared between the both of you. it isn’t until the palm of your hand actually slides over the bulge hidden under a thin layer of finely stitch linen that your lips part. he sucks in a sharp breath, and it is with every drop of self-restraint—and a tad sprinkle of regret—that he summons the strength to clasp your hand to halt your movements.

he doesn’t miss the grimace that dances across your face as you withdraw enough so that he can look at your face properly.

‘you don’t wanna do that, doll,’ he warns, voice hoarse as he shifts his left leg, daring to shoot a pitiful glare down at his own crotch. he hears you huff a short laugh, sounding everything other than amused. it’s a laugh that he already associates with the familiarity of your irritation. when his eyes drag over your features, it takes everything within him to avoid staring at your kiss-swollen lips. your gaze, although half hidden behind heavy eyelids that have dropped with the weight of his kisses, are ablaze with what he can only see as poorly veiled anger. in turn, the pettier sider of him can’t help but react with the same level of annoyance that is aimed towards him. ‘what you fuckin’ poutin’ for?’

somehow, your scowl deepens, marring the pretty features on your face.

‘just when i thought that you’d finally grown a pair.’

the words are viciously spat into the space between you, but before he fully processes what in the flying fuck you’d just said to him, you’re already jumping up from the settee. dumbly, he gawks as you snatch your empty bowls from the coffee table, pointedly ignoring him as you march from the room. his body is already moving before his brain catches up, and he’s following you into the kitchen. ‘the fuck d’you mean?’

it doesn’t take much to suspect that part of your anger is aimed toward the notion of being rejected. and if he wasn’t so pissed by your bratty attitude, he’d take you right back to that settee—or, more preferably, your bed—and finish what he’d started.

‘nothing,’ your tone is cold, your answer contradicted by the sound of you practically throwing the dishes into the sink. the ceramics clash together in a way that makes his teeth grit, followed by the distinct sound of something breaking once it hits the bottom of the sink.

‘nothin’?’ he grunts, repeating your answer. ‘sure don’t look like nothin’ to me.’

it’s the wrong thing to say.

you whirl on him, and you swipe a tea-towel from the kitchen surface and launch it across the room so roughly that it actually smacks him square in the face. he allows the offending fabric to drop unceremoniously to the ground and your eyes widen as his eyes slide shut, the corners of his mouth curling up into a vicious smile. the sight of it should make you feel even just a smidge of fear, but it only serves to cause your breath to hitch in the back of your throat, heat warming the inside of your underwear.

in truth, you had fallen for him almost immediately after your friendship began.

your meeting as an accidental romance-story-gone-wrong.

two years ago, you were rushing to work after in fear of being late after your train being held up that morning. and you’d ran into what you’d initially thought to be the most intimidating man you’d ever met, quite literally, head first. his coffee had actually left you with a minor burn scar on the inside of your thigh, and after he’d insisted on offering to replace your beverage-stained blouse, despite not falling in love and living happily-ever-after, the two of you somehow stayed in contact. it didn’t take long for you to fall for his charm that very few are accustomed to, and you like to think that you are now one of the few select people that are blessed with with a side of him that no others get to see.

and it wasn’t long before you began to notice him showing signs of mutual interest. at first, you’d been delighted whenever you noticed his heavy stare fixated onto you, and you only. you’d been shy, but hopeful when you’d catch his gaze lingering on the curve of your lips when you smiled at him, or when he humoured you enough to wrap his arms across your shoulders each time he left your apartment, despite him grumbling about his reputation every time he indulges you. and whilst you were happy, even if it meant that you’d never breach past the friendship stage, you also couldn’t help the disappointment that sunk deep down in your stomach every time he left without kissing you.

so when his lips had finally pressed against yours, when his hands had clung to you desperately, when your tongue had desperately tasted him just enough to engrave it deep within your tastebuds, when your fingers had felt just how much he wanted you; well, you were ecstatic.

except, you hadn’t expected to finally receive the attention that you’d been craving for the past two years, only to be rejected within the same breath. you must’ve done something truly horrific in a past life, you’d fumed as you’d marched your way into the kitchen, because you didn’t understand how you could be this unlucky.

yet, now, as you watch him exhale a long, low breath, before his eyes slowly peel open to stare down at you, you can’t help but hope that you’ve finally pushed him enough to snap.

and snap, he does.

he steps over the abandoned tea-towel, eyes glinting with something darker as they watch you swallow thickly. he chuckles, and then he says, ‘was tryna be nice to you, doll… makin’ sure you don’t do somethin’ you’ll regret.’

his eyes narrow down at you and he leans into your personal space, towering over your smaller frame until the countertop digs into the small of your back and you have to crane your neck to look him in the eye.

‘’m done playin’ nice.’

this is the only warning that you receive before two large hands are curling around the back of your thighs and you’re hoisted into the air so roughly that you can’t stop the shrill shriek that bursts past your lips when your abdomen meets the point of his shoulder. your heart lurches so rapidly that it feels like it’s thrumming inside your throat, but upside down like this, you are privy to an appealing eyeful of his toned backside. the jet black material of his trousers have evidently been tailored made to fit him snugly, and you certainly aren’t complaining about the view.

the ground moves below you, and as the tiled kitchen flooring gives away to a light beige carpet, you realise that he’s carried you into your bedroom. your stomach twists with anticipation, thighs clenched tightly together as you watch him kick the door shut behind him. suddenly, you’re falling, body bouncing on the mattress of your bed as you’re roughly deposited onto it. the motion makes your head spin, but you don’t have time to process it, as he’s suddenly on top of you, mouth claiming yours for the second time this evening. the weight of him pressing you into the mattress feels delicious and your fingers grip his hair, as you kiss him with everything you’ve got. pride fills you when his groan is bitten into your bottom lip, his hips jutting forward once, twice, clearly testing your boundaries. only when your legs widen to accommodate him, knees bending to curl your calves against his lower back, does he repeat the action, drawing a breath gasp from your mouth, which he’s quick to swallow down.

the last two years of back-and-forth, what-if’s and what he’d thought to be unrequited feelings, is quickly destroyed with each brush of your clothed cunt, and he relishes in the way his name is shakily whispered into the curve of his ear. your breath is hot on the side of his face, the sound of each broken breath forced from your lips making his cock throb so painfully that he wishes that you’d both undressed before he’d kissed you. with this thought, he places one short kiss on the curve of your cheek, and pulls away so suddenly that you flinch at the loss of his weight pressing you down into the mattress. his thumb drags across the hem of your shorts before his hand pulls away.

‘take ‘em off.’

he waits until you’ve pushed yourself upright before he climbs from the bed, hands already rushing to pull open the buttoning of his dress shirt. you move to stand before him, your movements not as rushed as his appear to be, but it’s mostly because your eyes are distracted, greedily taking in every inch of skin that is exposed to you. he’s almost naked by the time you gather enough wit about yourself to do as he’d told you. nerves and self-consciousness have you avoiding his gaze until you’re clad in nothing but the skin that you were born with.

when you look at him, he’s already sat at the edge of your bed, and your gaze zeros in on the fingers that are currently fisting his cock in a lazy upwards stroke as he watches you from where he sits. the lean muscles in his abdomen flex, and in turn, so do the inner muscles of your thighs as you press them together. once he realises that your attention is focused on the reddened tip that is leaking slick arousal down the ridges of his fingers, his bottom lips drags between his teeth and he beckons you over.

‘c’mere.’

you have to gall to look hesitant as you make your way over to him, hands making to reach up and cover your breasts in a pathetic attempt to protect your modesty. he scoffs at you, his free hand reaching out to tug your arms away, baring your entire body to his heated stare. he can’t help dragging his eyes over every inch of your body; he’s wanted this for a long time, and he’s sure as hell is going to make sure he makes the most of it whilst it lasts. and with this thought, his eyes roam over the gentle curves of your lithe form, hips narrower and breasts smaller than what society would deem as ��attractive’, and yet the sight of the lightning streaks of your stretch marks, your puffy areola that surrounds two nipples—both of which are, to his pleasant surprise—inverted, make him ache for you. he sucks in a deep breath at the sight of them, cock twitching, hard against his abdomen. his fingers reach to trace the surface of your stomach, the corner of his mouth quirking when you breathe in sharply when he tickles your ribs. his fingers trace the shape of your left breast, watching as your chest begins to rise and fall a little faster.

with arousal, or anxiety, he’s unsure.

when his thumb brushes over your nipple, he’s taken aback by the lack of reaction. it must’ve shown on his face, because your expression drops into one of apprehension, and you lean back so that he’s no longer touching you.

‘they don’t…’ you trail off, looking down at your own chest, expression twisting into one that is a mixture of both self-loathing and disappointment. he doesn’t like that look on your face. but before he can voice it so, you clear your throat, ‘um… they’re inverted. but there’s not much sensation in them, so touching them doesn’t really do anything—’

he interrupts, ‘much sensation?’ you blink at him, allowing him to touch your skin again if only to appease his curiosity. ‘so you feel some stuff, right?’

you’re flustered, ‘well, yes. but like i said, touching them doesn’t do much, so it’s really not worth—’

he’ll decide what is or isn’t worth his time, thanks.

his lips are already curling around your nipple before you can finish your sentence. your words are cut off with a sharp intake of breath, and you shiver when hot air is exhaled from his nostrils, his tongue probing at your nipple. it tickles, but it isn’t until his teeth pinch where his tongue had traced, when you actually feel a dull throb of arousal from his ministrations. he hears the quiet moan that slips past your lips, and when he glances at your face, your eyes are closed, lips parted, a soft redness blessing your cheeks and the tips of your ears.

his moan is deep, low, and it vibrates across your breast, and you can’t help but moan along with him. his teeth are careful as they tug on your nipple, and with his attentions, the tip starts to protrude outwards. of course, having experimented by yourself before, this isn’t new to you. but when he eventually releases the abused skin, revealing a faint bruise that is starting to form, you allow him to indulge in his own smugness before he turns his attention to the other nipple. whilst doing so, his fingers tease the newly raised nub and your toes curl into the carpet, another moan echoed by the very man who is causing them.

by the time that you deem that he must be satisfied with his handiwork, you’re left a breathless mess, and you lean back so that your nipple pulls from between his lips with a wet pop! your eyes lower to where his fingers are curled around the base of his cock, and for the second time today, he watches as your tongue darts out to lick your lips. the girth is a little daunting, but considering how much bigger he is compared to you, you shouldn’t really be surprised that his cock is on the thicker side. still, despite the size, your mouth salivates at the sight of the vein that traces the entire length, disappearing under the swollen tip, just beneath the bundle of nerves that you’re itching to trace with your tongue.

but, as if he can read your thoughts, he chuckles from where his lips are pressing to the gap between your breasts. ‘not today, doll.’

and then, before you can protest, or even attempt to convince him to let you have just a taste, he’s pulling you onto his lap, his mouth dropping open when his cock slips between the dripping folds of your slit. you’re positive that he must feel the way your clit throbs for him, because in response, his length jerks and his hips cant upwards, his hands pressing you down to grind against you. his eyelids droop, heavy with wanton need, ‘so fuckin’ wet f’me.’

you keen, pressing your nose into the curve of his neck, grinding your hips in time with his thrusts. ‘a-all for you,’ you pant into his ear, and he’s holding you so tightly that you suspect that you’ll wake with bruises tomorrow. every ridge of his cock drags over your cunt, which drips messily all over him, a puddle already soaking the trimmed patch of dark hair that rests at the base of his erection. you would be embarrassed if he didn’t voice his approval in the form of a grunt, tongue lapping at your skin as he licks and sucks his way up the length of your neck. a particularly harsh bite to your collarbone has you yelping, and it almost ruins the blissful moment when he finally presses into you.

he enters in one, long stroke, his entire length gliding into your heat with ease, and he’s so dazed with the feeling of you that he belatedly remembers that he probably should’ve stretched you out with his fingers first. but you don’t seem to care, because you’re crying out as you rise up onto your knees, before dropping your hips back down, forcing him to empty and fill you over and over again. the stretch of his girth makes your insides ache, but it burns in a way that makes your toes curl with bliss.

‘f-fuck,’ he croons, one hand pressing to the mattress for balance, and the other, weaselling its way to your clit, rubbing tight fast circles in a bid to feel your gummy walls twitch and flutter and squeeze around him. ‘that’s it, baby, use my cock—hng, fuck—make this cock yours.’

‘m-mine,’ you whimper above him, nails digging into his shoulder blades as you cling onto him.

‘’s’right, babydoll, all fuckin’ yours,’ he agrees, moaning loudly when one harsh thrust has him stuttering on his own breath. ‘c-can you feel it, huh? look how hard i am—look what you do t’me.’ you feel him twitch inside you, the warmth of him pulsing from deep within your heat. your clit is caught between his thumb and the texture of his public hair, and you throb for him, already well on your way towards your release.

it is at this point that he decides that you’ve had enough of your fun, his hands holding tight to keep your hips still, before his thighs flex lower and his entire length springs free from the wet cavern of your cunt. your hole clenches, now empty, and a thick gloop of slick drips from between your legs. your orgasm is ruined, and you whine at the loss.

‘look at you,’ he coos, awed.

and then, he’s moving your body, positioning you so that you’re now laying with your stomach pressed to the sheets, your legs spread wide. you wait for him to press in above you, the heavy weight of him carefully lowered to your back. he rests on his forearms, but his entire body covers yours, and suddenly, you feel very small. the size difference is staggeringly obvious, and if the hitching of his breath is of any indicator, you’d say that he likes it just as much as you do. you mewl his name, and two, long fingers come to tuck under your chin, tilting your head toward your shoulder so that he can kiss you again.

it’s harder to kiss from this position, and your tongues battle messily, but soon enough, he’s entering you again, and you sob as he leaves no time for you to adjust before he sets a punishing pace. the room is soon filled with the wet sound of his pelvis repeatedly colliding with the soft meat of your backside, and you don’t have to look to know that your arousal is already soaking the sheets.

he’s loud like this, you quickly realise, and he’s moaning, babbling promises of what’s more to come in the future, praising the fact that your pretty little hole is made just for him. his cock batters your cunt and your dripping walls welcome him in with each thrust, and before long, your orgasm is gaining a powerful momentum. he chants your name like its his lifeline, and it’s with this that you realise he’s fast approaching his own peak, too.

long fingers curl a fistful of of your hair, tight enough that your scalp protests weakly as your neck stretches, baring itself for him to clamp his teeth onto the skin to mark you yet again. his thrusts become heavier, sloppier, faster, and the squelching clap of his balls slapping against your clit, and just like that, just like that, yes, yes, yes, gods, yes—!

you white out.

only for a second or two, but when you regain consciousness, it’s to the sound of his guttural shout of unfiltered, pure pleasure that ripples its way across his entire body and enters your cunt, painting it white with ropes of seed that spills on and on and on, until he collapses against your back with a strained murmur of your name. he nuzzles the crook where your shoulder meets your neck, and you lay there, struggling to catch your breath. your pussy is still throbbing with the aftermaths of your orgasm, and you can already feel the slow trickle of cum starting to spill from your hole, despite the fact that his length still claims its home within your inner walls.

it takes a good few minutes for the thrumming in your veins to quieten to a dull hum, and another five for him to move just enough to brush an open-mouthed kiss to your temple as you reach back to push the dampened strands of his hair back from his forehead. there’s a satisfied ache settling into your limbs and it forces a yawn out of your mouth. at this, he hums, pressing his lips to the crest of your cheek, and you squint at him from the corner of your eye when he manages to huff out a short, tired laugh.

‘you better not be fallin’ ‘sleep on me, doll,’ he warns, though his own voice betrays him, thickened with exhaustion. you turn to peek at him, your index finger tracing down the slope of his nose, a light dusting of pink staining the bridge. his eyes glaze over for a moment or two, before he blinks back to the present, and then the gentlest smile that you’ve ever seen graces his lips and the sight makes your stomach twist, pulse racing within your veins.

eventually, when you trust yourself to speak clearly, you tease your fingers between his own until they’re snaked together, and you say softly, ‘of course not.’

your answer makes something flash in his eyes, but you’re unable to decipher the meaning behind it, because suddenly, his girth slips free, along with the gush of your release that has mixed with his. he pushes his weight from your prone form, and as much as you enjoy having him crush you into the mattress, the relief on your back is instant. when you muster the energy to roll onto your side, his eyes are glued to the space between your legs, and if not for that tiny smile that softens his entire face, mortification would have made you blush from head-to-toe.

when you ignore the aching of your thighs to sit up properly, his hand shoots out to curl around your ankle, holding you in place. ‘where’d’ya think you’re goin’?’

he’s sat on his haunches, but he’s leaning over you again, easily reminding you of the size difference that turns you on more than you care to admit. his eyes are dark as they skim over your freshly-fucked body, previously unmarred skin now littered with new bruises and hickeys that you know will take all week to disappear. his smirk widens, but you can see that he’s not entirely unaffected, the pink blush still present, along with the hardened prick that bobs between his legs, yet to soften. he leans in close enough for his lips to steal another kiss from yours and you allow him to take you into his arms, whispering, ‘nowhere. i’m not going anywhere.’

something akin to contentment settles over him, but his fingers are already dancing across the slant of your waist, and you shiver at the unspoken promise of what’s to come next.

#♡ jordy is writing ♡#tr x reader #tr smut #tokrev x reader #tokrev smut #hanma x reader #hanma smut #draken x reader #draken smut #haitani ran x reader #haitani ran smut #haitani rindo x reader #haitani rindou smut #sanzu x reader #sanzu smut #kazutora x reader #izana x reader #taiju smut

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ben-learns-smth · 1 year

Text

re-introduction time, hi I'm Bente (they/he), Ben is also fine! formerly known as bennistudies

quick facts:

mid-20something wrapping up their master's teaching degree (english & german)

starting a new job as a substitute teacher in may (exciting but scary!) (that didn't happen, but other good things did!)

this is a somewhat-studyblr, definitely some langblr content and otherwise the usual meme, jokes, life update, bookish stuff

languages I'm currently learning: DGS (german sign language) & Norwegian

it's been a bit over five years since I joined the studyblr community with my old blog and I've learned so much from others since then but also I just really enjoy seeing everyone doing their thing and making it work, ya'll are so impressive!!

hyperspecific poll with fun facts to get to know each other is here

a more rambly hello under the cut:)

after I basically stopped posting on my old studyblr bennistudies last late summer, I realised that having to switch back and forth between accounts was the issue. I missed being active here! so to solve that, I've created this sideblog for easier access. hi, it's good to see you again :)

for those interested, I'll definitely leave little updates on how the job is going (as much as I'm allowed), especially when it comes to being a nonbinary trans teacher since a bunch of ppl found that interesting when I mentioned it on my old blog. posts related to that will be both under #mine and #bente does gender

originally, I expected to be done with my thesis already, which is why I have lots of language classes going on/starting rn. I have 4 lessons of german sign language level 2 left, level 3 starts this week as a parallel class though (posts will be under #bente learns sign language). last week I started norwegian a1 (#bente learns norwegian)!

other than that new focus on teaching and language learning, it'll be the usual chaos, rambles, and water drinking reminders though. I'm not even gonna pretend that I'm doing this for accountability, I just like sharing my cosy little corner of the world and seeing what you lot are up to

I still track #benniscup, please use it freely for any type of post! yes that includes rambles (if you want me to see and potentially reblog)

if you want to talk books, baking, plants or just about your day, please reach out!

tagging a bunch of my old mutuals and blogs I've followed for what feels like forever bc I appreciate you all and hope you know that: @septemberstudies @learnelle @studyingwithcatsandtea @veralernt @teacherstudiies @lattesandlearning @somerabbitholes @yourneighborhoodbibliophile @adelinestudiess @godzilla-studies @oneanxiousstudybuddy @gabiestudies @patchworkstudies (& the knife gang pals, obviously <3)

#I'm realising that I don't know how to introduce myself #oh well #mine #studyblr #studyblr intro post #knife gang

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jeonqkooks · 1 year

Note

congrats, jen! can i request namjoon + “how mad would you be if i kissed you?” for your blogiversary event? <3

feather light | knj

pairing: namjoon x reader

rating: G

genre/warnings: strangers to lovers, fluff, barely any angst unless you count aerophobia as angst?, unedited bc that should be its own warning lol

word count: 1.1k

note: thank you so much for sending in a request!! it's been a while, i know, apologies for the delay!! for some reason i've always wanted to write a drabble where namjoon is a stranger on a plane hahahha i'm glad i was able to incorporate that idea into this request!! i hope you enjoy it heheh ☺️

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

If you’re being honest, you don’t recall much of February 24.

You remember boarding the plane, and finding your seat, and fastening your seatbelt, and gnawing on your bottom lip like chewing gum throughout the pilot’s announcement. It was a relatively short flight, only two hours from your city to the island where your friend’s wedding took place that weekend. Usually, you can handle short flights just fine. You just needed to take your meds beforehand and you’d be good to go.

Except, you’d forgotten them at the hotel, on the counter in the bathroom, before you headed for the airport.

Looking back now, was it divine intervention?

Maybe. The universe works in mysterious ways. You’ll never know for sure.

Then, as you internally freaked out in seat 17A, you just knew that life absolutely sucked. Your own brain was feeding you the most terrible thoughts and painting the most gruesome scenarios of all the things that could go wrong over the next two hours.

It was great - truly amazing - that you only had your brain for company and nothing to distract you.

You hated every aspect of flying, but takeoff and landing might have to the parts you despised the most. When the plane rumbled to life and began to slowly move on the runway, your hands immediately slapped down on the armrests and held onto them for dear life. You remember squeezing your eyes shut and not even daring to take a breath, as if one exhale could send you and all the other passengers to the nether world.

You remember staying completely still for five whole minutes, until the plane settled into a smooth rhythm and glided through the clouds with ease.

You remember taking an experimental breath, but then something warm moved underneath your right palm and you almost screeched in horror.

You remember opening your eyes to find yourself clutching the hand of the person sitting in the seat next to yours. The events of that day may not be very clear in your mind, but the absolute mortification you felt in that moment still sometimes resurfaces to the front of your brain.

You remember scrambling to apologize for holding his hand hostage and not even realizing it. You remember watching him smile amusedly and reassuring you that it was fine. You remember his soothing voice as he told you that his little sister was scared of flying too, “It’s all good.”

You remember the dimples and the kind eyes that calmed your storm for a split second.

Maybe that’s the real reason why you don’t remember February 24 all that well.

Maybe it was something that you only read in books and watched in movies: Love, at first sight.

You remember your hands getting clammy and he mistook it for your fear rearing its ugly head again. He started talking, no doubt to help distract you from the fact that you were thousands and thousands of feet in the air.

Admittedly, you couldn’t really focus on what he was saying, just that he was telling you how he was getting back from a trip with his friends. Something about being an art collector, something about vitamin B powder…

You don’t even know what you replied to his questions and stories, if you even responded at all or if you just sat there, listening but not really listening.

The task of trying not to make an even bigger fool of yourself in front of this beautiful stranger got you through the better part of the dreadful two hours, until the very end.

When the plane shook, only once and it was just very light turbulence, but that was enough for you to spiral again.

Curse the meds that were probably thrown away by housekeeping at that point, and curse you for leaving them behind.

You were back to square one, even though there were only twenty minutes left to endure. Your hands gripped whatever they could find as a means to ground yourself, and it just so happened that his hands were nearby.

You remember his long and delicate fingers wrapping around your sweaty ones, holding your hand back.

You remember him telling you that everything was fine, that you were almost home.

“Breathe.”

“In and out. 1… 2… 3…”

“That’s it… It’s almost over.”

You remember his warmth not leaving your palm until the plane landed, and the other passengers started getting their luggage from the overhead storage.

When you made it back onto solid ground and inside the safety of the airport, you thanked him for putting up with you the past couple of hours. He said he was glad that he could help, and you asked for his name then, shyly.

“Namjoon,” he answered with a dashing smile. “I told you on the plane.”

You remember flushing with embarrassment once again.

You walked together outside, then stopped to stand in silence as each of you ordered your own Uber.

Yours arrived first, and Namjoon helped you put your suitcase in the trunk of the car.

Sure, you might not remember much of what happened on February 24, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re sitting here, in the waiting lounge of that same airport three and a half years later. This time, you remember to bring your meds, but nevertheless, your leg still bounces in anticipation of the flight you’ll be boarding soon. Until his hand lands on your knee to soothe your nerves, and his voice is clear in your ears.

“Stop that,” he chuckles. “You’re making my seat vibrate.”

You shoot him a glare and your best pout. “I can’t believe you’re making me fly on our anniversary. I should be so mad at you.”

He laughs then, gentle hand moving from your knee to interlace your fingers, diluting this “anger” of yours that’s already as non-existent as it is.

“How mad would you be if I told you that we can do whatever we want for the next five stress-free days? Fancy hotel spas, lounging by the pool all day, dinners right on the beach… I even called your boss and asked for two more days off if you want to stay longer.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling, but he sees right through you. “Still very mad.”

He narrows his eyes playfully, squeezing your hand because he knows he’s already forgiven. “And how mad would you be if I kissed you? My kisses always make you feel better, mhmm?”

You remember that feeling you had on February 24, when you saw him smile for the first time.

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chaithetics · 8 months

Text

Porcelain and the Shark: Sweet Jonathan

Pairing: Stewy Hosseini x f (Roy) reader

(reader has anxiety, no use of y/n, physical descriptions or other names but does have the nickname Porcelain/Porce - due to family viewing her that way not because of complexion)

Word count: 4.6K

Prompts: "at the birth of jonathan, and even though she’s been doing therapy after she has him she really just breaks down crying because she loves him sooooo much, already and he’s only been alive for minutes. And it’s kind of her letting go of feeling like it was her fault Caroline didn’t love her. like rationally she knows she couldn’t have done anything wrong that quick but now she kinda understands something was broken in her mother to discard her so quickly. also realizes how Logan must have contributed to that bc Stewy's support was incredibly important to her labourand she knows how logan is. And she quietly loves Jonathan and has Stewy embrace her and thank her for making their family grow." + "If possible, I wanted to know a little more about when Jonathan was born, I imagine that the new parents were so in love with their baby , but how was the reaction of the rest of the family to the new and highly desired baby?"

Chapter/content warning: 18+ MINORS DNI, established relationship, anxious reader, pregnancy, scenes post-childbirth (labour/delivery is not depicted), the feels, canonical Roy chaos and pain (lmk if I've missed any!)

Authors note: Thank you so much to these 2 Nonnies for sending these prompts in! I really appreciate it and adore you both so much! They're both such great prompts, I hope you like this piece, please do let me know! Also, I haven't gone through childbirth or anything like that so I tried to keep everything pretty vague. This hasn't been proofread and post 2K I really started to dislike this and worry that it's not good 😭 Please let me know your thoughts, comments, reblogs and asks are appreciated! I love hearing from you all. Also can you tell I absolutely HATE naming things?!

****************

You were on the floor in the nursery that was almost completely ready, it was just waiting for the future Hosseini to arrive. There was a bookshelf in here that was really just for aesthetics at this stage, you knew it would be impractical because it wasn’t realistic that an infant would be doing a lot of reading, there was also the chance of this being a hazard for the bundle of joy that would soon be the centre of the household. The bookshelf had been bolted into the wall though and the home itself had been ‘baby-proofed’ already.

But it was still nice you thought to have a bookshelf with all of the adorable children’s books you’d spent hours finding, reading about and then also rambling to Stewy about. You were now looking over the books again, organising them in the important system (one which you would never use for work) but what would be the highest priority to read and your favourites.

Stewy came into the nursery. He looked around the nursery again for a second, he did it each time he came in. Genuinely amazed at what his life had become over the last few years. You heard his footsteps, you pause mid-book organising to look up at him as he walks over and leans against the changing table, watching you turn your attention back to the shelf, he thinks about it and enjoys that there are great conversations and banter but also places for comfortable silence in your relationship. Something you do as well. He revels in that for a moment before asking. “Do you need a hand?”

“No, thank you.” Your response is quick, amusingly too quick to him.

“Are you sure baby?” He drags the syllables out as he smiles at you, finding the quickness of your response equally amusing and intriguing.

“Yes, honey. I have a system.” You respond and then you turn around and smirk at him seeing his grin widen more. “One that I can’t teach.”

“Oh?” He questions somewhat teasingly but still intrigued as he raises his eyebrows at you. You hum in response. “What? Dewey? Library of Congress?” Stewy asks with a teasing smile.

“No. But if I tell you it can’t get out.” You hum and his smile widens as he raises his eyebrows at you, waiting for you to continue. “”hat will be my favourites to read to them.” You confidently answer with your own growing smile.

“What a scandalous system.” Stewy laughs and nods, not too surprised at the revelation. His eyes scan around and he looks at the changing table and then finds a tub of something there piquing his interest.

“What’s this again?” He asks holding it out for you as you turn around to look at it.

“Diaper change cream.” You quickly answer smiling at your husband. “Think baby powder alternative for that area.”

“Right… And remind me again why we need an alternative to baby powder?” He questions as he studies it.

“Babies shouldn’t breathe in the powder particles and there are medical concerns and debate over talc.” You and Stewy had both done a lot of research and prep for this but it was stuff like this that you had read more on than him.

“Talc?” Stewy raises an eyebrow as he looks at the bottle of cream.

“Some research says it's carcinogenic. Talc’s the big player in baby powder ingredients, the culprit ingredient in those Johnson and Johnson lawsuits.” You finish off, knowing that that will ring a bell for him and it does as he quickly nods.

“It’s kind of sickening how good I’ll be at diaper changes.” He says in a deadly serious tone, you look over at him and can’t help but laugh. You’re in awe and humoured by the confidence of the handsome, cocky dork you married.

“Well with that confidence, I’m happy to leave that to you at 3 AM.” You quip back with a smirk, completely abandoning the books as you look at him.

“Shit at that time of morning, just a Saturday morning before my reformed domesticated ways.” He smirks at you and winks.

“Sure Stewy, sure. What was it that Roman said about your lifestyle…?” His eyebrows raise as he exhales, shaking his head but your grin just grows.

“Roman misquoted me-”

“Uh-huh. Of course, he did, you certainly didn’t happen to make the mistake of not just talking about but talking to my siblings about the-.” You smugly say before he cuts you off.

“Well even though he’s a loose cannon, you know it means you don’t ever need to worry about Roman’s career prospects. The narc will always have the pathway option of a police informant.” Stewy retorts, somewhat proud of himself for thinking of that on the spot despite the fact he’d thought it about a dozen times since that conversation with Roman and Kendall had gotten back to you.

“You were down bad, years before becoming a reformed married, soon-to-be family man.” You quickly respond.

It’s true and you both know it. He was bad for it and you imagine if things hadn’t been so complicated with your family you’d have been married a lot earlier than what had happened in this universe. You wondered what that would’ve been like.

“What is baby powder meant to do anyways? Is it like powdered baby cologne?” He quickly questions. It might sound like an intentional conversation change to the ears of others but his short attention span prompts it and you know that.

The question’s been triggered by his attention going back to the cream in his hands, you watch his eyes scan over the label curiously for any and all information. He then looks up from the product and his doe eyes that you’re in love with bore into yours. He looks so handsome like this, the softer night lighting just illuminates it. You’re so in love with him. You smirk to yourself briefly before responding as his smile grows.

“It’s meant to scare away the boogeyman.” You reply nonchalantly.

“Babe, your dad doesn’t live here. I think we’re good.” He says it with his eyebrows raised and a signature Stewy Hosseini teasing smile on his face.

You chuckle at that and roll your eyes as he places the cream down and walks over to kiss you as you then feel a small popping sensation.

********************

You felt warm, covered in sweat which plastered your hair to your face and neck. You’d had a firm grip on Stewy’s hand for hours now. Stewy was stroking your arm softly with his free hand as he pressed a delicate kiss to the top of your head as you both watched the nurse bring Jonathan over.

He’d fortunately been declared a healthy baby boy by the doctor and you smiled at that, your hand was still in Stewy’s but your grip relaxed a little as the worry in your body left at that, you’d been somewhat anxious as Jonathan was 2 weeks early but the doctors and nurses had assured you that was normal, you knew it was right but even with therapy, an anxious brain still doesn’t always accept logic.

“What a good set of lungs he has.” The nurse says with a smile as she places the still crying infant into your slightly shaky arms.

Your body shakes a little for a couple more seconds, you suppose that it’s a combination of the exhaustion from labour and the nerves of that whole process and now meeting your sweet boy. You feel your nerves stabilise after a few seconds, as you watch him, it must be part of that maternal instinct. He’s pressed into you and he’s so small and delicate in your arms, you can’t help but smile largely as you watch him.

“Hey, hey, hello sweetie, you’re so perfect.” You coo at him as you smile widely, he then finishes crying and you giggle a little at that.

“He really is.” Stewy says with a small chuckle as he looks down at the sweet little baby you created together and he then presses a gentle kiss to the top of your forehead.

Jonathan’s eyes open at the sound of his parents voices above him and he looks up at you. You can’t help but feel stunned and in awe of how your sweet little boy is looking at you with the same big brown eyes as Stewy and he appears to have the same dark locks as his father as well. He looks at you and returns the smile you’re directing at him which makes both yours and Stewy’s hearts explode. The love and awe you’re in over Jonathan is so encompassing, that nothing else matters and nothing could take away or ruin the joy of Jonathan’s existence.

Jonathan’s large, curious brown eyes flicker around the surroundings and its clear that his gaze is happier when it focuses on you and Stewy, especially when hearing your voices as you gently coo at him. It’s only a couple of minutes of the three of you being in this bubble, pretty oblivious to everything going on outside until Jonathan’s fallen into a peaceful slumber.

You bring him up slightly to kiss his head softly and quietly chuckle at how peaceful he looks. You’re amazed at him. Stewy wipes his eyes, being equally filled with adoration as he moves his hand from your arm for a moment to perch himself on the side of the bed next to you and press another kiss to your forehead as he stroke’s Jonathan’s little cheek.

In Jonathan’s slumber his hand raises a little and Stewy moves his hand towards it and Jonathan’s small fingers instinctively wrap around one of Stewy’s fingers. It’s such a beautiful sight and it’s amazing how small Jonathan is and how his hand doesn’t even cover all of just one of Stewy’s fingers.

It’s a pure domestic sight.

Love is coursing through each fibre of your being for your husband next to you and your newborn son in your arms. It’s such a sweet moment, the whole experience had been honestly. You tilt your head to look at Stewy for a moment, one hand of his gently placed on your arm and the other still there and while Jonathan has his fingers wrapped around Stewy you know that Stewy’s the one wrapped around his finger already.

Nobody could understand your parents. You never understood your parents. A confusing phenomenon as you’d gotten older but you really don’t get them right now, in this moment. Jonathan’s only minutes old and you’re so in love, he’s perfect, he’s done nothing wrong and even if he had done something wrong- he’s just a child, deserving of love.

You and your siblings had always been made to believe that there was something wrong with you, raised to be poisoned instead of loved so that as adults you’d believe dysfunction was where you thrived. Caroline and Logan had set you all up to fail from the start. You’d always felt like that it was your fault that Caroline had never loved you, maybe she did in a twisted, absent way you supposed but she’d never loved you how a mother was supposed to love and protect their child. You wondered how she could feel that way about you and your siblings when you felt nothing but love for your child. How she felt was on her, it had nothing to do with you. You were a child and a child that deserved better.

Tears start to burn your eyes and you try to blink them away quickly, willing yourself not to cry. This realisation and the tenderness and love that Stewy already had and had no problem showing for the baby you shared was starting to hit pretty hard. You knew he was a better man than your father, you’d promised yourself you would never marry anyone who reminded you of Logan Roy, let alone continue that cycle. But it was such a stark contrast seeing Stewy this way, so in love with Jonathan and so supportive to you compared to how your father had been with you or any of your siblings and the relationship he had with Caroline.

The tears stream down your cheeks and you begin to cry, it’s all a lot to process and you know the environment, medications and hormones are probably heightening everything. You try to hold back on it but you end up choking on your sobs until it all comes out. You’re still securely holding onto Jonathan as your body shakes with your crying, you can feel the warm tears plastering themselves onto your cheeks like cement.

“Hey, hey baby. What’s wrong?” Stewy asks as he wraps his arms around you, pressing you against him while making sure you and Jonathan are both secure and physically comfortable. His voice is gentle but laced with concern and you can feel that in his comforting body.

“He’s just so perfect-” You say in between sobs, trying to regulate your breathing but it’s not doing much. “I just love him so much already and- and well, I just don’t get it. How a mother couldn’t…” You say as you continue to cry.

Stewy knows exactly what you mean, ever since he first befriended Kendall Roy he’s known that there was something extremely wrong with Logan Roy and Caroline Collingwood. He knew you weren’t like them and he was glad that you were able to accept that your childhood and those relationships weren’t your fault. For your love of your son to prove that.

He continued to hold you while you cried, placing gentle kisses all over your head and whispering to you. “I love you so much, you’re already an incredible mom. You are good. You didn’t deserve any of that. Him and I both love you so much already.” He lifts one hand up to stroke your cheek as he looks down at Jonathan who is still sleeping then looks back into your eyes. “He was so happy when he saw your face and heard your voice.” He laughs a little at that with a sweet, soft expression on his face. You nod a little, biting your lip as a small laugh comes out as your tears slow down.

“I love you.” You say to Stewy softly as your breathing evens out a bit more now.

“I love you more.” Stewy says softly, he presses a gentle kiss to your lips. “Thank you. You’ve made our family grow, literally. You’re perfect, and he’s perfect just like you.” Stewy says pressing a kiss to your forehead. You’ve stopped crying now and you lean a little more into Stewy as you both watch Jonathan sleep until a nurse eventually puts him into the nearby cot, insisting that you and Stewy both need your sleep.

***************************

“Hey, hey baby…” Connor says softly as he walks in to your room with a gentle smile. He has a small gift bag of something in one of his hands and a large bouquet of flowers in the other.

“Con?”

“Hey. I hope it’s not too early, I just needed to see how you were ASAP.” He says and chuckles anxiously a little. You can’t help but smile in return at him, it was early but you couldn’t be upset about it Connor was easy to be around and a gift of a sibling. But you knew that if it was a regular hospital he would’ve been escorted away for it not being visiting hours yet.

“It’s fine… I’m glad you’re here Con.” You say tiredly, his smile grows a little at that and his shoulders relax. You’d never been to him but he had been worried about intruding, he’d spent his whole life feeling like an intrusion to a private conversation at a party that he wasn’t invited to but everybody else was.

“How are you doing?” He asks.

“I’m okay… tired.” You respond with a smile and a small tired laugh looking over briefly at your husband who is still somewhat peacefully sleeping. As peacefully as you can in a hospital with a literal newborn.

“Yeah, I can only imagine…” Connor says as he comes over. “Wow, so that’s the little fella?”

You nod with a large smile as you look over at Jonathan sleeping. Connor’s face lightens up even more as he looks at Jonathan. He quietly coos at the little boy and that melts your heart a bit more. Connor had always been more of a father to you than Logan had ever been. It made sense that he’d be the first of your family to visit, unsurprisingly but unknown to you Connor had essentially been camping out to visit as soon as Stewy had texted him that your water had broken.

“Do you want to hold him?” You asked. Connor looked over at you somewhat surprised.

“Are you sure?” You chuckled a little at that.

“Of course. You had plenty of experience with all of us. An experienced natural.” He smiled at that and carefully lifted Jonathan up into his arms, supporting his small body as he swayed a little with him.

“He’s adorable.” Connor said softly, he was speaking to you but his gaze was focused on Jonathan. He was absolutely smitten by his nephew and he knew he’d spend the rest of his life doting on the little boy. “Still Jonathan?” He asked.

“Yeah, we decided to stick with it. He’s barely a day old but I think it suits.” You answer with a content hum. Connor nods at that smiling widely.

It’s not long after that that another visitor waltzs in, lacking any sense of noise control and quickly waking up Stewy from his slumber next to you.

“What up motherfuckers! I hear the newest edition has arrived?” Roman says with a smirk as he comes into the room. Connor shushes him, and Stewy’s eyes open and he shoots Roman a glare.

“Roman!” You say quietly but pointedly, as Jonathan stirs in Connor’s arms. Connor starts to sway again and coo at Jonathan but Stewy quickly puts his arms out to hold his son. Connor gently places Jonathan in Stewy’s arms and that settles him a little bit.

Roman’s eyes have widened at the scene of seeing his nephew. He quickly walks over closer to the bed to look down at Jonathan as Connor takes a seat. Roman’s expression screws up for a moment and you look up at him confused.

“Oh shit Porce…” Roman says and your head instantly snaps to look at Jonathan, his colour hasn’t changed, he doesn’t look like he’s in discomfort or anything but Roman’s ominous statement has unnerved you.

“What is it Rome…?” You ask desperately.

“When the fuck did you have the affair?” Roman boldly questions.

“What?!” You question in shock as Stewy tiredly rolls his eyes at Roman’s dramatics.

“I thought- I thought he was mine?! He looks NOTHING like me! He looks like him!” Roman says as he points at Stewy.

“Oh my God, Rome. Stop!” You say with a sigh not being in the mood for this.

“Jesus Christ, yeah, I know of people in the Bible too! But well, I think after a few years I might be able to love him like he’s my own anyway.” Roman says. Stewy’s gaze lands on Roman and Roman giggles a little as Stewy is visibly unimpressed.

“Didn’t we have the conversation about how problematic and inappropriate that is a multitude of times during the pregnancy Rome?” Stewy asks.

“Yeah but that was the pregnancy. Porce isn’t pregnant currently.” Roman retorts and you scoff at that. He comes over to give you a somewhat awkward side hug, he treats you like you’re a human made of the porcelain of your infamous moniker as he’s weary of the pain and state your body would be in after labour. He gives your cheek a quick kiss and you squeeze his hand as he steps back.

Roman’s face softens a little as he looks at Jonathan, he’ll admit that the baby is cutte. He kind of wants to hold him but he’s a bit scared to do that right now with how tiny he looks. Currently Jonathan looks more fragile to him than what you do.

***************************************

Roman hadn’t stayed for much longer, hospitals unnerved him a little and that room had quickly felt a bit too claustrophobic for him with the lack of dysfunction. Connor stayed for a while but to give you all a nap and another try at feeding. He promised to stop by again and constantly reiterated that he was just a phone call or text away.

You were so in love with and in absolute awe of your little boy. It was so encompassing. You were’t even anxious about your father visiting. You hadn’t thought of your father yet but there was nothing that Logan could say or do that would take away or ruin the joy of the existence of Jonathan.

Kendall had sent a congratulatory text to Stewy, along with that Rava, Sophie and Iverson were looking forward to meeting him and that Rava had already organised flowers and a gift basket which had arrived not much longer after the text had been sent. Kendall hadn’t wanted to bombard you, which was something that Rava had highlighted, you and Stewy both knew that was a sentiment that came more from Rava and the truth was that Kendall rarely made the time of day for his own children, so he wouldn’t do that for your own child.

You weren’t too bothered by that, you didn’t imagine much could bother you when there was so much joy because of your little family. It was thoughtful of Rava and at least thoughtful in words from Kendall, you knew that Kendall loved you in his own unique way. He just had difficulty functioning outside of being the perfect cog in his father’s machine.

You were yet to hear anything from Shiv yet, but again, that didn’t completely surprise you.

“Hey honey, Marcia just texted that they’re coming.” Stewy says breaking you out of your thoughts. You nod and place a kiss to his temple and he yawns as he sits back up, placing his phone back into his pocket as he rubs his face tiredly. You snuggle up into his side, trying to get comfortable as you watch Jonathan sleep in the hospital cot. You still feel tired even after your nap but you can’t help but smile when looking at that small human.

Stewy kisses the top of your head and then gets up to gently pick Jonathan up from the cot. Stewy’s often gentle with you but it’s so different seeing him that way with a tiny human, the tiny human that’s yours and his. Stewy supports his small body and smiles while looking down at Jonathan, his smile grows as Jonathan still seems at peace while in his father’s literal supportive arms.

You smile warmly at the sight, feeling warm and cosy inside. You’re in such awe with Jonathan that you don’t even feel anxious about your father coming because frankly there isn’t anything he could say or do to take away from the perfect bundle of joy snuggled into your husbands arms.

After about half an hour your father walks in with Marcia by his side as usual, you give them both a small smile as your gaze briefly flickers away from Jonathan in Stewy’s arms. Marcia comes over and quickly asks how you are, giving you a kiss on the cheek and warmly squeezing your hand.

“So?” Your father quickly asks looking at the infant and Marcia gives him a pointed look.

“This is Jonathan Hosseini.” Stewy says softly, as he rocks Jonathan gently not looking at either Marcia or Logan. Marcia smiles at that slightly.

“Can I hold him?” Logan asks quickly. You feel Stewy tense a little at that, such a contrast to the ridiculously relaxed in stressful situations type of person that Stewy normally is. You look up at your father, his expression appears genuine but it takes you aback. You didn’t recall your father actually making an appearance like this to the hospital at Iverson’s birth let alone having an interest in either of his grandchildren from Kendall.

“Do you want to sit down to do that? You can better support him that way.” You say rather meekly, he rolls his eyes a little at that but complies. Sitting down and Stewy carefully places Jonathan in his arms, staying nearby and Marcia smiles at the scene.

“He looks a lot like like Stewy.” Logan says while holding the small boy.

He had his father’s eyes, hair, face shape and nose. The shape of his mouth was the same as yours though, something Stewy had immediately pointed out not long into Jonathan’s existence. It was really the only physical feature of yours that you could see in your son, it genuinely amazed you how Jonathan was barely out of the womb but was already a spitting image of his father.

“Yeah, we were kind of hoping for that.” You say quietly while looking at your precious bundle of joy. Your father looks up at you with confusion etched onto his face as he looks at you waiting for clarification on why you’d want something he finds to be so dreadful. You clear your throat and continue, trying to suppress a small laugh at the mild disgust on his face.“Roman had been telling people it was his.”

Your father sighs at that, visibly unimpressed and the mild disgust turns to a glimpse of disappointed horror. It almost hurts to see him looking like that while holding your newborn son but you know that it’s aimed at your non-present brother and not at you.

“He needs help…” Logan says as he looks down at Jonatah. “Jonathan has your mouth though Porce.” He says and that seems to bring a small smile to his face. “Well he’s blood so that’s good.” You don’t say anything to that, you’re not sure how to respond but it certainly throws you off and Stewy senses that.

It’s not long before Marcia has a turn holding Jonathan, you feel more comfortable with him in her arms than your fathers. But your father has his gaze locked on Jonathan the whole time and an interest in him that he never seemed to have in you or your siblings which surprises and unnerves you a little.

You’re not sure how long as time moves so bizarrely in hospital but after at least a few more minutes of this, Marcia places Jonathan into your arms, they decide it’s now best to leave as Jonathan is in need of a feeding.

“You did good, Porce.” Your father says somewhat softly, maybe the softest you’ve ever heard him speak as he comes over to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“Thanks dad.” You speak the words hesitantly, unsure of the hidden meaning behind the odd praise from your father.

“Thank you Porce.” He says and again, the not so hidden meaning in those words unnerves you a bit.

You watch him as him and Marcia leave. Then your attention swiftly turns back to your sweet little boy.

“He’s so precious.” You say to Stewy as you hold him. Stewy laughs a little and nods, giving you a sweet kiss on the lips.

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