#i promise i really did start this going 'i will make this more than just about kanthony' i just failed ok
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Never Ever Seen This Before!
Synopsis. There’s a first time for everything - including trying out dirty little kínks with them.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, cóckwarming, mating press, oral (female + male receiving), manhandling, marking, spitting, bóndage, spanking (Nanami’s), dynamics, degradation, cúmplay, squírting, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.6k
A/N. *sigh* can’t believe I deleted this before. If you know, then YOU KNOW.
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Stay still, goddammit!
Was being stuffed full of your boyfriend’s thick cock at all times really too much to ask? You think not.
Toji, however, really didn’t see the point.
“But, doll.” he groans, dragging his tip lazily in-between your swollen folds. And it was so sloppy - slick trailing down his length, smearing across the sheets. “Jus’ wanna fuck your pretty lil’ cunt.”
It’s not that Toji doesn’t like the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his cock. No, he loves it - is addicted even. And he loves it especially when you attack him in the morning like this - his pretty girl, all splayed out on her side, barely even blinking the sleep out of her eyes before you ache for his dick.
But, really, what’s the use of staying still - he’d rather fuck you till you’re breathless and creaming around his cock.
“Toji, you promised we’d try. Jus’ want to be stuffed full of your cock.” you pout, batting your lashes behind at him. “Don’ make me go on a sex ban.”
Oh, you little minx. He knew all your dirty tricks - yet, fell for them each time anyway. “Fine. Then fucking-” he lifts your legs a little higher, hips pulling back ever-so-slightly. “Take it.”
You barely even hear the rest of his sentence because Toji’s immediately bullying his throbbing dick into your pussy. Pushing against the resistance as you struggle to take his thick cock, not stopping till he’s buried all the way in your wet cunt.
Smirking at the way you mewl and grind your hips back into his, he wraps two muscled arms around your waist, holding you still on his cock. Murmuring in your ear, low and gravelly, “Not s’pposed to move, doll. Remember?
God, he knows you feel the way he twitches inside your dripping cunt at the way you whisper out a shaky little, “Y-yeah. No moving.”
And stubbornly you grit your teeth, being able to do nothing more than clamp down so deliciously on Toji’s pulsing cock as you stay still, relishing in the burn of him stretching you impossibly.
And maybe it’s been minutes - or even hours, because God did it feel that way to Toji as he watched you being broken by the mere feeling of being split apart on his cock. Patience slowly waning, he snakes down a hand to your poor, forgotten clit. Index tracing lightly over the sensitive bud.
“T-Toji what-” you immediately jolt, finally getting an ounce of the friction your cunt has been aching for this whole time. Mindlessly grinding into his erection - only to be stopped by a large hand on your hip.
“No moving, doll. Remember?”
“But-”
“Didn’t say anything about playing with your pretty lil’ clit now, did you?” he hums, knowing you were playing right into his hands. “Now. Don’t move.”
Ah, you can do nothing but lay there and take it as Toji presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Fingers starting to press, frantic, hard little circles on your swollen clit. Over and over- Like he was fucking you with his fingers the way he couldn’t with his dick.
Ugh, damn him. Damn him and his fingers that knew you so well.
It was maddening.
“Toji- please.” you sob out, powerless against the bruising grip keeping you in place. You wanted to move. You wanted him so bad.
“‘Please’ what?” he grunts. Clearly torn between focusing on drawing steady, agonizing patterns on your clit and fighting that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy over and over. Not stopping till you were cockdrunk and crying to cum.
“Please just fuck me- ah!”
Oh, you didn’t have to tell Toji twice. Because in one, fluid move, Toji’s pulling back, fucking you with harsh, jerky little movements of his hips. Twitching balls smacking you with each thrust. Not even caring to wait and let you adjust because fuck cockwarming, he’s wanted this so long and your needy lil’ pussy is milking him so good-
“Shhh, it’s okay, doll. We have lotsa time to practice.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - So mean!
Nanami Kento was a gentleman. Always holding the door open, guiding you through crowds, gifting you bouquets even when there wasn’t a special occasion.
The only problem was that Nanami was a gentleman even when you didn’t want him to be. Even when what you really wanted was for him to push you down and tease you till you were crying and begging for his cock.
Like right now - kissing softly down your neck, large hands trailing across your skin as he lays you gently on your bed. Long fingers dipping into your soaked panties, drawing delicate patterns on your quivering thighs. But you’re not in the mood for delicate.
“K-Kento!” you whine, hips bucking into his featherlight touches. “Can we ah- do that thing we talked about?”
“I don’t want to hurt you, darling.” he murmurs against your skin.
You let out a pouty whine, one that you knew would make him break. “But I want you to, Kento. Wan’ you to break me. Please.”
He lets out a resigned sigh, running a hand through his hair. A loaded second of silence passes. One. Two. And just as you’re about to admit defeat, surprisingly, it’s Nanami that breaks the silence. “Fine then. Face down, ass up if you want to act like such a lil’ slut.”
You scramble to do what he says, mind reeling from the fact that oh this was Nanami - the same Nanami who’d never raised his voice or ever called you anything other than terms of endearment.
“Hm, good.” he grits out.
And that’s all you hear before a deafening rip! rings through the heady room. Looking back in shock, you realize with a jolt that Nanami had your tattered panties in his hands, your dripping cunt on full display for him.
As he positions himself behind you, resting his swollen cock the curve of your ass. Mindlessly, you push back against the feeling of Nanami’s achingly hard cock, hot and heavy on your skin, precum smearing everywhere. “Ken-”
Smack!
“Not Kento, darling.” he murmurs, palms smoothing over your ass. Lips kissing down your spine, in a way that would be so sweet if it wasn’t for the way he had you under his mercy.
You let out a strangled moan at the sharp sting, his large handprint searing into your skin. “S-sir?” you whisper, almost-experimentally. And oh was it the right answer - because he groans appreciatively, dick jumping so animalistically at the term leaving your swollen lips.
“Oh? So my slutty girl does know how to be good, huh?” he murmurs, voice so uncharacteristically dangerous. Hands spreading your swollen folds to take in the sight of your wet pussy. “Shit. Since m’feeling so nice, count to five n’ I’ll fill that tight lil’ cunt with my cock.”
You barely have the time to wonder what he means before you feel a sharp slap against your ass. Forcing you to yelp out a strained little, “O-one, sir.”
Nanami hungry eyes greedily take in the fat tears clinging to your lashes, hips bucking into his for more. Your mouth dropping into such a delicious little oh! as you’re torn between pain and pleasure.
You were so sweet falling apart underneath him that he can’t help but do it again. Smack! And again. Smack!
“Two. Hah! N’ t-three.”
Good, now it was time to put his good girl to the test.
With a low hiss of appreciation, he drags his throbbing cock across your wet folds, gathering your sweet juices on his tip. At the same time, Nanami’s hand connects with your ass again. Hard. Smack!
“Ah! Oh-”
“Count.”
“Four! Ngh- four, sir.”
Nanami’s amusement spikes at the way you were so desperately rutting into his cock. And, well, what his pretty slut wants - she gets, right?
Several things happen at once, he swiftly raises his hand for a final, hard smack. Hips reeling back ever-so-slightly to ram his cock into your snug cunt at the same time. Smack!
“Ah! Kento- Kento hgnh- shit feel s’good inside me.” you mewl, drunk off both the sharp sting on your ass and Nanami bullying his thick cock into your tight pussy, filling you up so good.
But not for long - because as soon as he was stuffing you full of his cock, Nanami’s pulling out just as fast. Your pussy clenching around nothing as you whirl behind to pout at him. Only for whatever whine to get stuck in your throat at two fingers shoving something flimsy and wet in your mouth. Forcing you to taste yourself.
Gagging around your soaked panties, a jolt runs down your spine at the positively feral glint in his eyes. Blinking away the tears in your eyes to take in the cruel little smile playing on his lips as he leans in closer to whisper, “My lil’ slut can’t even seem to remember what to call me, huh? I think she should be punished.”
Oh.
What have you done?
♡ GETO SUGURU - Drown me in it!
Geto Suguru has done it all - folded you in half, stuffed you full from all ends, had you begging and crying for more underneath him. He can confidently say that he hasn’t shied away from ticking off everything on the list.
That is until one random night in the shower, when he gets an epiphany - oh shit, Geto hasn’t made you squirt yet. Yes, it was the sudden image of you covering him in all your sweet juices. But more importantly - how dare he let his pretty girl go so long without cumming so hard you see the pearly gates of heaven?
So - like any good boyfriend - Geto has you splayed out on his navy sheets, your legs in the air, his painfully hard cock buried in your dripping cunt.
“Hngh- please. Shit shit shit m’cumming-” you whine, hips bucking wildly into his. Tears streaming down your face, clenching so hard around his dick that it makes it hard for Geto to thrust in and out at his steady, torturous rhythm. Fucking you through- which number orgasm was this again?
Ah, it doesn’t matter - because you didn’t squirt. Again.
“Awww…” you can barely hear his words over the blood roaring in your ears. “Didn’t squirt on that one either. C’mon now, my love, I know y’can do it f’me.”
Not wasting a second, Geto’s ramming his cock into your snug cunt once more. Heavy balls stinging your ass with each thrust - not even easing you into it any more because oh your little sobs were so pretty. Squirming and bucking into his touch despite your protests. “S-Sugu- I hah-, can’t-”
Now, as much as Geto loved your smart mouth - he loved it even more when you’re cockdrunk and babbling underneath him. Huffing out a laugh, he murmurs in your ear, “Yes, my love?” Veins grazing that one spot. Hard. “Can’t what?”
“Can’t cum anymore!”
Well - greedy gaze drinking in the way your swollen cunt swallowed him up so well, slick dripping down to his twitching balls - Geto begged to differ.
“Shut up. You will.” he mutters, shifting the angle to hit that one spot that has you gasping and bucking your hips for more. Your fists bunching up the soaked sheets below you, fucking yourself desperately into his throbbing cock. Curling deftly against that one spot. Over and over-
“Close, my love?” Geto sing-songs, “Think this could be the one?”
And oh does he find out. Because you’re cumming again - stars behind your eyes, walls clamping down so sinfully as he fucks you through your high. Your nails claw at his shoulders in an effort to get him to fucking slow down - but no, Geto is ruthless with his abuse. Hips faltering only once you show signs of your high bating.
And before you can even react, your boyfriend’s starting his movements again. Milking himself on your heavenly pussy.
You can’t even form coherent sentences at this point, only fucked-out whimpers leaving your swollen lips - it’s been like this for hours now. You’ve cum more times than you can probably count, yet here Geto was - not even once tonight. A slow, agonizing torture for the both of you. All because he wanted you to fucking squirt.
His thumb was ravaging your sensitive clit, pleasure nothing more than tingles now as Geto fucking ruins you. Hips bullying his thick cock into your heated pussy, thrusts no more than sloppy little movements. Your pussy dripping onto your bedroom floor.
Unforgiving. Geto Suguru was absolutely unforgiving.
“C’mon, my love.” his words were so sweetly whispered in your ear - barely audible over your cries. Geto nips at your earlobe, purring lowly, “Squirt on this one, n’ I’ll fill your pretty lil’ pussy with my cum like you want s’bad.”
And then, it happens - something snaps.
Your orgasm crashes through you. So violent and hard that you see flashes of white behind your eyes. You cry out, trembling as your sloppy pussy squirts all over Geto. Covering him in all your sweet juices till his abs are glistening with your slick. Dripping down his body and absolutely soaking the sheets below.
And oh how he was entranced. Geto barely registers his own orgasm, hips faltering as he pumps thick, hot ropes of seed into your quivering cunt. Cumming at the mere sight of you creaming on his cock. His pretty girl was so gorgeous squirting all over him.
It was so so worth edging the both of you to the brink of insanity. He thinks his only regret was not having you squirt all over his face too.
Well…now he only had to see if he could do it twice.
♡ CHOSO KAMO - Lollipop!
Shit, you thought your best friend would have a huge dick - but this was ridiculous.
So intimidatingly long and pretty, swollen tip flushed your favorite shade of pink, matching his blushing cheeks. Beads of precum leaking down, down, down the side so mouth-wateringly as you seat yourself in-between those sculpted thighs.
“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” Choso hisses, despite the way his cock throbs animalistically in your soft hands.
You raise a brow, batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently. “Are you sure, Cho? S’your first, after all.”
He should say no. He should laugh it off as a joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wanted to see your pretty lips wrapped around his dick. Have you choking and gagging around him. So, any rationality thrown out the window, Choso nods slowly. Entranced.
Grinning wickedly, you whisper, hot breath making his angry cock twitch “Thought so.”
“But are you su- hngh!” Whatever sentence at the tip of his tongue is cut off as you spit on his length. Once. Twice. Your palms smearing the saliva along his throbbing length. Enough of an answer. And then there’s no more talking.
Choso’s mouth drops into a fucked-out little oh! of disbelief as your tongue darts out to collect the saliva and precum pooling at his head.
Moaning at his slightly salty taste, you take in as much of him as you can - inch by fucking inch. Not stopping till your nose meets the small tufts of black hair at this toned pelvis. Because this was your devastatingly sexy best friend and he deserved the best.
God, Choso already thinks he could pass out.
Heavy balls squeezing so painfully, his veins graze against the roof of your mouth as you start bobbing your head at a quick, ruthless pace. Milking Choso’s pretty cock for all he’s worth. Not even easing him into his first, because fuck only one taste and you’re already addicted.
So, really, it only makes sense that Choso was the same. “Oh- Oh fuck! Feels s’good hngh-” he babbles, hips bucking up involuntarily into your warm, plush mouth. “Shit shit shit oh-.”
Was this what heaven felt like? He really was missing out.
“Oh, fuck. Yeah, feel s’good around me, sweetheart.” he groans, as you tongue at his sensitive slit. Fingers digging into the soft armrest while he tries to keep himself together.
You notice - of course you do - because soon enough you’re grabbing his arms to rest on your head, teary eyes blinking up at him so sinfully as you suck the soul out of him.
In a split-second, Choso’s carding his fingers through your hair, holding you steady as he rams his cock down your throat.
“Fuck- m’s-sorry, sweetheart. S’too ngh- fucking good.” his words slur together, drunk off the way you gag around him. Letting yourself be so used as he fucks your mouth so ferally. Not half the man he was just a moment ago.
By God were you a vision, he thinks deliriously - tears stinging your eyes, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth, lips stretching so lewdly around him as you take him in and out in and out in and- And if he angled your head just right he could see the bulge in your throat. Him - all him. “Sorry- ah! s’pretty hgnh- pretty when you’re full of my cock.”
“Gonna be m’first, huh?” he moans deliriously, “”Gonna let me fuck up into that pretty lil’ mouth whenever I want?”
The only response he gets are your pathetic, wet gurgles, and the smacking of his heavy balls hitting your chin. This was heaven and you were an angel.
And that only makes Choso speed up his sloppy thrusts more. Each thrust deeper and harder than the last. Balls tightening, feeling his sanity crumbling away each time his throbbing erection hits the back of your throat. Over and over-
“Ah! Sweetheart- m’not gonna last long. M’close-” he lets out a guttural groan, tugging on your hair to pull you away.
But alas, you seemed every bit intent on ruining him. Because the only response he gets are your nails digging deeper into his milky hips, leaving angry, red marks in their wake. Ones for him to remember you by - not that he thinks he could ever forget this.
And that itself is enough to have Choso spilling into your mouth. Shooting thick, hot spurts of seed down your waiting throat.
Messy. It was so fucking messy.
Heart in his throat, breaths ragged, Choso has to blink his vision back. And if he thought he was going to pass out before then he wasn’t ready for you to proudly stick out your tongue - showing absolutely no trace of his cum. Swallowing everything he gives.
“I-I think,” he starts, voice shot, “S’time for me to return the favor.”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Drunk on you(r cunt)!
Why the hell would the King of Curses ever kneel down to anyone?
Why would he ever wrestle your legs so shamefully open, dive nose-first into your pretty pussy, and tease you with his tongue for hours? Ignoring his angry, achingly hard cock for the sole purpose of making you cum and only making you cum?
But, well, that’s exactly what happened.
“Oh- Kuna! Please-” you mewl, big fat tears dripping down your face at this point. Not knowing whether to move your hips away or buck up into his tongue for more more more-
“What now, brat?” he hums into your dripping cunt, vibrations making you squeal. “Complained that I don’t eat out your pretty lil’ cunt n’ now you’re acting so spoiled?”
Ah, there it was - that offhand little remark that got you into this mess. “B-but,” you whine, stars behind your eyes each time Sukuna laps at your sweet juices. “Didn’t think you’d be so mean-”
All you get is a dark chuckle as Sukuna sucks on your throbbing clit, so sensitive from his relentless abuse. Rolling his tongue over it so teasingly.
Now, this might be his first time eating you out, but he knows exactly what you need - what you crave. And the way your body trembled under his touch told Sukuna everything about how you were brinking so dangerously close to the edge. Too close.
“Please, Kuna! Wan’ cum s’bad.” you cry out, broken little moans of pleasure leaving your swollen lips. Ones which quickly turn into disappointed whines as he pulls away. Again.
“M’not being mean.” he murmurs in your ear, drinking in that adorable little pout on your face.
In the haze of your lust-addled mind, you barely register the way he flips you two to lay on his back. Manhandling you further up the mattress you to be splayed out so sinfully above him - thighs straddling his devastatingly handsome face, hot breath hitting your dripping cunt.
“See?” Sukuna hums, tongue darting out to catch the obscene drip! drip! drip! of your slick. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “M’the best fucking boyfriend you’ll ever have.” And with that, he’s bullying his tongue through your swollen fold. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over-
“Ngh- feels s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Sukuna’s tongue.
Why was he so reluctant again? Something about stupid fucking pride? Fuck that, Sukuna would be on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal.
God, you were pretty sure you’d be collapsing onto him if it wasn’t for the strong hand holding your hips. Grip almost bruising as he rocks you harder - more obscenely - on his tongue. The other snakes down to draw rough, frenzied little circles on your swollen clit - as if you weren’t losing your sanity enough
And maybe if you were in a better state of mind you’d have noticed that Sukuna was, too. Eyes half-lidded, slick glistening down his jaw, pussy-drunk and watching awe-struck at the sinful sight of you. Devouring the sight of you the way he was with your cunt.
Fuck, why does this feel so good? He wasn’t even fucking getting off, but the more he made out with your sweet cunt, the more he could feel himself edging closer and closer to the edge. Rock-hard cock angry and leaking precum all over his abs. The great Ryomen Sukuna cumming in his pants from eating his pretty girl out?
Shit, Sukuna thinks deliriously, he was gonna have to make you cum. Soon.
“Kuna- m’close.” you whimper, voice so soft as if you were afraid of being teased again.
“Oh yeah, brat?” he mutters into your folds, “Want it s’badly, huh? Wan’ cum on my tongue?”
The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Yes yes yes! Can’t take it anymore, wan’ cum. Make me cum, please!” you keen. Fucked-out little whines of Sukuna’s name leaving your mouth as he speeds up his movements.
“Then cum.”
And you are, clenching so lewdly around his soft tongue as you ride out your high on his face. Your juices glossing his lips so prettily. And oh Sukuna’s so entranced by you creaming around his tongue that he almost misses the feel of thick, hot spurts of his cum now pooling on his abs.
Fuck, he was going to have to do this very often.
♡ GOJO SATORU - Break him!
Gojo always fucked you like his own personal sextoy. And now, it was only time for you to pay back the favor. Which is why you had him handcuffed to the bed, shirtless and splayed out to absolutely fucking ruin.
“Hah, don’t worry, baby. I’ll be gentle.” Gojo chuckles, tugging on the metal cuffs. Still so cocky despite the way his throbbing dick was leaking all over his sculpted abs, twitching at the mere sound of your voice.
“How nice.” you hum, sliding your pussy across his swollen cock, drenching him in your juices. “Because I won’t be.” And before Gojo can retort, you’re sinking down on his achingly hard cock, squeezing him inside your tight cunt as much as you can.
“Shit shit shit, yes. Your pretty lil’ pussy feel s’amazing wrapped around me. You sure you can handle it all, baby?”
You waste no time. Slamming down on Gojo’s leaking cock in one, abrupt motion, walls burning at the stretch as your ass meets his heavy balls. They twitch against you as you start moving in steady little bounces, sliding his thick cock in and out of your dripping cunt. In out in and out in and-
“Shit, baby. Fuckin’ me s’good ah! Hngh-” Gojo’s sinful moans come in ragged bursts. Fucking up into your pussy in shallow, defiant little thrusts to bully himself deeper and deeper inside you. But not for long - because you’re pushing his hips down, nails digging into the milky skin of his hips.
“Nope.” you hum, grinning at his pout. “Not till you admit defeat, Toru.”
“What defeat? That all you got, baby?” Gojo scoffs.
Stubborn bastard.
“‘What defeat’, huh?” you taunt. Leaning down so your breath fans his pretty face, “Said I couldn’t- handle it-” Each word is punctuated by you slamming down hard onto his swollen cock. Snug cunt massaging his veins as you pull up all the way - till his leaking tip is just kissing your sloppy hole, rocking your hips down hard at a punishing pace. “Look at you now, huh?”
You risk a glance into his eyes and oh- he liked it.
The great Gojo Satoru - revered like a God since birth - liked being treated like a mere fucktoy at your hands. Loved it even - if the way he twitched inside you was anything to go by it. Oh how you enjoyed being the one to bring him down to his knees.
Immediately, your hand reaches to grab the blindfold hanging haphazardly on his neck. “C’mon, Toru.” you warn, breaths ragged at the way his fat tip kissed your cervix. Tugging - hard - Gojo breath hitches in his throat as you whisper, “Jus’ give up.”
His pretty lips part slightly as you speed up your movements. Harsh, purposeful movements just to fuck his soul out.
“God, fuck- hah. Nah, more talk than walk, huh?”
Your hand tightens around the delicate blindfold, relishing in the wet little gurgles that leave him at the pressure around his throat. Balls squeezing painfully as you hypnotize him with your heavenly cunt. Alternating between agonizingly slow strokes and a sloppy, erratic bouncing - edging him closer and closer to the edge. Only to shatter his orgasm and his ego. Fuck.
“I know you want to cum, Toru.” your sweet voice snaps him out of his reverie, and Gojo stares up into your hazy, powerdrunk eyes. “Just admit defeat.”
“No.”
“Toru.” you start, sultry and dangerous. “Admit it.”
He shakes his head desperately, tears peeking out through those long lashes. “No.” he repeats, jaw clenched tight.
A hand wraps around his blindfold, pulling him impossibly closer, not even a hair’s breadth between your sticky bodies. “Admit defeat, Toru.” your lips ghosting his, nipping at his bottom lip. “Admit defeat, n’ I’ll make your cock cum hard enough to see stars.”
And finally, “I hah- a-admit defeat.”
“Louder.”
“I was wrong! Was wrong, m’girl. Lemme cum please lemme cum-”
Throwing his head back, Gojo’s hips buck wildly into yours as you let him bully his dick into you with reckless abandon. Over and over- Using you just as much as you were using him. Not even an ounce of the God he was raised to be.
And oh does Gojo see stars - and you do too. Because with a strangled gasp of your name, he’s painting your snug cunt white with thick, hot ropes of his cum.
Fucking his seed deeper and deeper, he fucks you through your high. Dazed blue eyes widening at the way your tight pussy was so overfilled, sticky seed dribbling out of you.
The sight of you creaming around his cock has his balls twitching exhaustedly. Fuck it was all too much. Flimsy handcuffs shattering with one pull, Gojo mutters raggedly, words sending shivers down your spine, “My turn, baby.”
A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo x reader#geto x reader#sukuna x reader#nanami x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#sukuna smut#nanami smut#tonywrites#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#choso x reader#choso smut#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#gojo x reader smut#toji x reader smut#satoru gojo x reader#toji fushiguro smut#nanami x reader smut#choso x reader smut#geto x reader smut
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Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader
snapshots masterlist
summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?
word count: 3.5k
a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.
“Shit.”
You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?
Over the last few months, there’d been changes.
Some subtle and some not so subtle.
“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”
She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.
“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”
During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.
“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”
You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.
One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.
Not until now.
“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”
“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”
“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”
Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.
It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.
“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.
Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.
After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.
He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.
You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.
Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”
“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”
One stern glare from her had shut you right up.
“Fine.”
Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.
You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.
With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.
As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.
“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”
“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”
“You’re bigger!”
With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”
She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.
“You look different. I mean, you look great—”
“Ellie?”
“Yeah?”
“Just shut up and eat.”
“Deal.”
She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner.
“You get your fractions homework done?”
“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”
Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”
“Sure.”
As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.
“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.
“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”
“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”
“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.
Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.
She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”
Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”
“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”
“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”
“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”
Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.
Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.
And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.
In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.
You bite back a small sigh.
By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.
“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”
“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”
You hear a chair scrape against the tile.
“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”
“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.
Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.
He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair.
The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.
Uncomfortable.
Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.
“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”
“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?”
He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”
You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”
Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.
“Mhm,” is all he says.
Your smile falters.
It’s the middle of August.
The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.
“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”
He’s met with silence.
Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”
Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”
“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”
Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.
“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”
Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”
“Huh?”
“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”
Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”
“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”
“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.
“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten.
“What are you afraid of?”
Joel almost laughs.
He doesn’t know where to start.
He’s afraid of everything.
“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”
“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”
“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”
“Joel—”
“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”
Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.
“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”
“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.
“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”
He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”
“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”
Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home.
“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.
“What does it fucking look like, man?”
“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”
Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.
“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”
Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”
Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.
He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.
He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.
He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.
Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.
Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.
He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.
The man you both needed.
Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?
He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.
“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”
“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”
He doesn’t have to tell you twice.
Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.
Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.
He waits.
And waits.
And waits.
And waits.
Until the minutes turn into hours.
Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains.
Until he finally feels that little flutter again.
He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.
He’d just felt the baby’s movement.
There’s a sudden shift.
Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.
His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.
Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.
With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.
Maybe his brother’s right.
Maybe he will be just fine.
divider credit to @saradika 🤍
#tw pregnancy#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x pregnant reader#joel miller one shot#joel miller drabble#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#fic: snapshots
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Covering the Classics Part 8 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: Now that Anna knows what Bob's hands feel like when he's holding her close, she doesn't know how to stop herself from going back for more. But she's unwilling to even humor Bob when it comes to what he wants the most.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, masturbation, eventually 18+
Length: 5300 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!
"I'm waiting for you to thank me."
Bob looked up to see Nat in front of him with a little smirk painted on her lips. He'd been spending the last twenty minutes trying to act normal, something he forgot how to do after Anna kissed him in the kitchen. Because it wasn't just a kiss, it was everything. It felt like she really wanted him.
"Thank you for what?" he asked cautiously.
Nat laughed heartily like he'd just told a very amusing joke. "For pushing you and Anna together. Bradley told me the situation, and that woman was jealous of me touching you. Her face was all pinched, and her lips were pressed into a tight line. Jealous. She wants you. And my god, she's hot. What the fuck do they do at San Diego State? Only interview you if you've got your PhD and a modeling contract?"
Bob knew he was blushing, and he was happy she wasn't calling him out on it. His friends were all talking about him and Anna behind his back at this point, trying to figure out what was going on. "We kind of just made out in the kitchen," he muttered, glancing across the yard at Anna who was talking to Jess and still holding the can of ginger ale he gave her.
"Yes!" Nat said with absolutely no subtlety, slapping Bob's shoulder. "Oh fuck, the two of you will have the cutest kids! Freckles and strawberry blonde hair!"
He had to close his eyes against the idea of it, willing the flush in his cheeks to subside. When he opened them again, Anna was looking right at him. Her gaze was a little unsure, and he was starting to get afraid she wouldn't let him drive her home later. But he wanted to walk her up to her door. He had been thinking about it since the very first time he drove her home.
"It's not like we're together or anything," he muttered.
"Yet," Nat told him, looking so certain. "Not yet."
It was getting late, the sun dipping lower in the sky. The temperatures would start cooling down once it was dark, and Anna was only wearing shorts. Bob's eyes easily found those freckles on her thighs once again. Her skin looked so damn soft. He wondered if he would feel goosebumps beneath his fingers if he traced that pretty pattern, gently connecting her freckles with an imaginary line. He had to swallow hard as she started heading his way.
Nat squeezed his wrist and muttered something about work, and then she vanished into the house. With Anna standing right in front of him, Bob wished he could just lean in and kiss her the way Jake always did with Jess, and the way Bradley always did with his wife. He wanted it. With Anna.
"I'm getting a little chilly," she told him. "I guess I overestimated how warm autumn was going to be in San Diego. It's still better than New Jersey though." She was talking to him like she hadn't been rubbing the front of those little shorts against the fly of his jeans barely an hour ago, and now he was sweating.
"You should wear jeans next time," he replied before realizing how stupid he sounded. "Not that you should be covering your legs or anything like that! You have very nice legs. Nice freckles? I just don't want you to be cold."
He cradled his forehead in his hand while Anna laughed softly. "I'll wear jeans next time. Do you think you could give me a ride home soon?"
"Sure," he promised immediately. "Absolutely."
"Great." Then she turned, and Bob heard her saying goodbye to Jessica. Why was he so awkward? Why was that exchange so weird? How was he supposed to make Anna want to kiss him again when he could barely string two normal sentences together?
--------------------------
Anna was trying to make a quick getaway, craving another few minutes alone with Bob. His truck was cozy, and she knew it would feel warm. His voice was sexy, and so was the way he moved. She wanted to kiss him again, even though she knew it was a terrible idea.
"Take some leftovers!"
"No, I'm fine," Anna told the hosts as Bradley tried to talk her into taking some of the extra burgers home. "But thank you." She was terrified that Jess may have said something about how sad Anna's lunches were; she had been doing her best to hide her current financial state from her friends, but she must have slipped up somehow.
"Well, will you come over for dinner one night? I love cooking for Sugar, but I always end up making way too much food."
Anna looked down at her feet. "Sure. I could do that. Jake invited me over there, too. I know he always cooks for Jess."
"Okay," Bradley said, his voice a little rough and his face annoyed when Anna looked up. "I'm a lot better at cooking than Jake is, first of all. Second of all, why don't you have dinner at his lame ass condo, and then let me know what he cooked. Then I'll cook a much better version of it for you and Sugar one night."
She was trying not to laugh; she knew they were competitive, but she didn't know it was quite this bad. "That sounds great, Bradley. Thanks for inviting me over today."
He just waved her off. "You're always welcome. You're one of us." He said it so casually before he started scraping the grill and cleaning it up, Anna just stared at the pattern of his tie dye shirt for a few seconds. He considered her part of this group now? This ridiculously cool friend group? If she thought about it for too long, she knew she would start crying.
"Thanks," she whispered, turning and running directly into Bob's solid chest.
When she looked up at him as her fingers grazed along his shirt, he asked, "You ready to head out?"
"Yeah." Anna felt the slight pressure of Bob's hand at her lower back, guiding her toward the door.
"After you," he said softly.
Anna had to walk inside the house and past Natasha, who she had clearly embarrassed herself in front of before. But the brunette just waved goodbye like she was completely unfazed by the events from earlier. Like it was totally normal for Bob and Anna to be together, heading out front to his truck as the setting sunset turned the sky orange.
Bob pulled the door open and helped her into his truck, and Anna thought maybe it was okay for this to be normal? To get a ride home from Bob after kissing him in her friend's kitchen? To have a painfully unrelenting crush on him that made her feel like perhaps love was a choice that you made for yourself?
She watched him walk around the font of the truck, his glasses catching the last rays of sunlight as the streetlights started to warm up. He was beautiful. He climbed into the truck gracefully and looked at her bashfully. She was the reason he wasn't more confident right now; she knew it, and she was annoyed with herself for it.
He cleared his throat quietly and said, "Before I forget, I have your copy of Papillon." Then he reached for the glovebox, his knuckles brushing her bare knee. "Sorry," he whispered, pulling his hand away immediately.
Anna's heart was in her throat. How was she supposed to tell him that she liked it when he touched her, even by accident. He reached for the glovebox again, this time making sure his movements kept him clear of her leg. "It's okay," she told him, breathing deep. "I didn't mind it."
The only answer she got was Bob carefully handing her worn out book back to her. There was another little note folded up inside which made her remember she never read the one that was in Wuthering Heights before she left it in her office at work. He started the engine. The drive back to her place was too long, and too short at the same time. She was surprised to find that he was heading in the right direction without a reminder about her address. As the sky darkened, Anna tried to listen to the music playing on the radio, but all she could really hear was the sound of her own heart pounding.
When Bob parked the truck in front of her building, she watched him squeeze the steering wheel with both hands while he stared out the windshield. "Anna...when you say you didn't mind it when I touched you...what does that mean? And what happened back at the cookout? Am I allowed to kiss you now? Or am I supposed to just figure out how to get over you?"
She fumbled with her seatbelt, heart thundering at the sound of his unsure voice. She wanted to ask him why he even liked her, because she had literally nothing to offer someone like Bob Floyd. But instead she said, "I meant I like it when you touch me. Even if it's by accident."
He turned to look at her, and when he saw she was crawling across the seat, his eyes went wide, and his hands slid from the steering wheel. "Anna." He inhaled a sharp breath when she planted one hand between his thighs, brushing his jeans with her fingers. She couldn't stand him thinking she didn't want him for another second. He was all she wanted. Somehow moving to San Diego got her some actual friends and a job she liked, and now a decent man with only green flags was into her, and she just couldn't make him think she felt otherwise. Even if they couldn't be together.
Bob's hands were planted on the seat at his sides, and he wasn't moving an inch as Anna straddled his legs. It was dark out, but she could see his gaze dip down to her cleavage before he met her eyes. When he spoke, his voice was deep with need. "Is it okay if I touch you now?"
"Please."
Anna's little cry of delight echoed through the cab of the truck as soon as Bob's hands settled on her bare thighs. His touch was light yet intentional, and it just left her wanting more. He was running his thumb along the frayed edge of her denim shorts, teasing her as he whispered, "I want to kiss you."
She didn't answer. Instead she reached for him, letting her fingers sink into his silky hair, leaning closer until her lips met his again. The kisses in the kitchen had been a little frantic, forcing her to get over the fact that Bob didn't want Natasha. He wanted Anna. But this was something different. Languid and slow. Needy yet decisive. She wanted to touch the rough stubble of his cheek, so she did. She wanted to feel his bottom lip tugged gently between hers, so she did. Then she parted her lips and tasted him.
The scrape of her nails along his jaw had his fingers sliding up inside the bottom of her shorts, and she wished she wasn't wearing them at all. She wanted to know the feel of his hands everywhere. "Anna," he murmured against her lips. She tugged on his hair and kissed him a little rougher, but she gasped and gave up control as soon as his big hands found their way over her shorts to her hips and yanked her snug against him. There was no more polite distance. No more breathing room. Just his hard body pressed to her soft one.
Bob's glasses were cool against her cheek, keeping her grounded as his fingers met the skin of her lower back while he tasted her tongue. His touch tickled her, and she rolled her hips forward, earning a grunt of pleasure from him. "Please," Anna whined, like it was the only word she even knew. Then her mouth was back on his. Bob's fingers traveled an inch higher, and she ground against him, but this time he broke the kiss.
When he tipped his head back, he looked bashful in the glow from the streetlights. She could feel him. He was getting hard for her, and it was delicious. Her brain supplied every suggestive line of poetry it had ever absorbed in her lifetime, and all she wanted was to make him get harder.
She was ready to start unzipping his jeans when he eased his hands away from her body and whispered, "Will you let me walk you to your door? I've been wanting to do that for weeks."
----------------------
It was slow going, trying to get to Anna's apartment door. They kept stopping to kiss, even going so far as to end up with her body pinned between his and the wall in the stairwell. Her soft laughter as he kissed the side of her neck echoed through the enclosed space, and then she said his name.
"Bob."
Actually, it was more like a whine, and it reverberated off of the walls beautifully. "Yes, Anna?" he whispered, letting her lace their fingers together. He wanted to do this all the time. He wanted to be her boyfriend.
She just made a strangled sound as he kissed as many of her freckles as he could get his lips on before pulling her away from the wall. Then they finally made it upstairs to her door. If she invited him inside, he wasn't sure what she would expect. As much as he was ready to skip all of the pleasantries, he knew he needed to do this just right.
"Oh," she whispered, seemingly to herself as she unlocked her door. But she didn't turn the knob as she looked back at him over her shoulder. Her pretty brown eyes flashed with concern, so he took a step away, but then she just looked sad.
"Everything okay?" he asked. She nodded. "Will I get to see you this week? I'd love to buy you a ginger ale at the Hard Deck. Or Chippy's."
She bit her lip before abandoning the door and wrapping her arms around his neck. She was all rough kisses on her tiptoes, and Bob was ready to turn the knob, head inside and deal with the consequences later. But she ran her tongue along his bottom lip before pulling away from him just as quickly. "I need to...I'll see you later, Bob."
In a flash, she squeezed herself in through the smallest gap imaginable, and then she gently closed her apartment door behind her. Bob stood there for a minute, his cock still half hard in his jeans as he stared at the spot where Anna had just been standing. She was giving him whiplash at this point, but maybe he sort of liked that kind of thing.
He quickly adjusted himself in his jeans before heading back downstairs and out into the cool night. He was going to have to ask Jake or Bradley how long he needed to wait before asking Anna out. They would know what to do. And he had Nat back now as well. He had enough resources that he would figure it out.
But the next day after work, they all seemed to make everything more confusing for him.
"So did you finally fuck her then?" Bradley asked casually as he put deodorant on in the locker room.
"Well, no," Bob muttered. "We just made out for a bit."
"Kids these days," Bradley muttered, shaking his head. "Well, did you at least thank Nat? For coming to your rescue?"
Bob sighed, knowing this man was going to be no help after all. "I already talked to Nat," Bob replied as they walked out of the locker room.
Of course Natasha was in the hallway and did a double take. "Did I just hear my name? I've been so popular since I got home yesterday." Her smile slipped into a look of excitement. "Did you fuck the redhead?"
Bob cradled his forehead in his hand. "Her name is Anna. And no, because I'm actually trying to date her."
"Why not both?" Nat asked, leading the way out to the parking lot. "Give that girl what she so desperately wants."
Bob was scared Anna was going to pull away again. He hadn't heard from her at all since last night when she disappeared into her apartment. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be texting her or not today. It was like he was living in a choose your own adventure story, but somehow none of the options were correct.
He turned right toward his truck while Bradley and Nat both turned left, but then he realized that Jake had parked next to him and was already in his own truck talking on the phone. Bob tried to sneak past, but Jake put his window down and said, "Jess wants to know what's up with you and Anna."
"Is she on the phone?" Bob asked, tossing his bag into his own truck.
"Hi!" came Jessica's voice through Jake's bluetooth. "What did you do to Anna? She was practically singing when she showed up at lunch today."
Bob immediately scrambled toward Jake's truck and stuck his head in the window. "She was?"
"Yes. And she was having a hard time paying attention. You know how she gets when her head is in the clouds."
Jake met Bob's wide eyed gaze and smiled. "You should go to her office hours," the other man drawled. "That's like a green light for fucking on her desk."
"Hey!" Jessica complained through the phone while Bob grimaced. "Jake, keep your mouth shut about it. But yes, Bob, you should go to her office hours. She'd probably really like that. It shows you're thinking about her."
Well Bob was almost never not thinking about Anna, so maybe it wasn't a bad idea. "Take her some flowers," Jake added. "Seriously, man, she'll be handing you her panties within a minute."
"Hey!" came Jessica's voice again, and this time Bob ducked into his own truck, not wanting to hear any more of that conversation.
-----------------------------
Monday was a bit of a blur. The first thing Anna did when she got to her office was grab her copy of Wuthering Heights from her shelf. The note she forgot to read from Bob made her smile right away.
This book made me feel like it's okay to be completely caught up in another person to the point where you forget where you are or what you're doing. Also, I'm going to think of you every time I see a dog eared page for the rest of my life.
She whimpered softly. There had been a similar, slightly more intimate note tucked inside Papillon when she checked it last night after she squeezed herself into her depressingly tiny apartment in embarrassment. She would never be able to invite Bob inside for anything. Not for a cup of tea, and not for a sleepover.
After that, Anna spent the entire night on Sunday reading her favorite poems and touching herself. Sky Writing seemed to have fallen in love, based on his new post. That idea wasn't surprising at all. Anna was convinced he was the perfect man, so it was just a matter of time. But the thing that did surprise her was the way he wrote about a certain woman with red hair. Late into the night, she was laying in her tiny bed with her fingers inside the font of her underwear, picturing Bob as she read the words to herself.
It was almost too much. Her lips were still a little bit puffy on Monday from all the making out, and she felt sated if only by her own touch. She knew Bob's beautiful hands would be so much better, and she was still thinking about them when she went to find her friends at lunchtime.
Tuesday wasn't much better. The only damper was that she hadn't heard a single word from Bob. Nothing. She hadn't texted him either, because what was she supposed to say? Hi, I think I could fall in love with you, but I'm not allowed. Can we still make out? That would be the worst idea in the world.
"She's got her head in the clouds again."
Anna blinked a few times and realized she was sitting by the weird tree with the warm sunlight on her face. Her uneaten sandwich was in her hand, hovering halfway to her mouth, and she had been staring off into the distance. "Sorry," she muttered, finally taking a bite. Her lunch didn't even seem as sad today as she thought about Bob's hands on her thighs.
"Can you blame her?" Jessica asked. "She kissed Bob."
"Not one bit," the other woman said with a grin, as if Anna wasn't even there. "He's a damn catch. Sweetest man ever."
Anna rolled her eyes and said, "As if you aren't married to the human equivalent of a golden retriever."
"Oh, so she is paying attention," Jessica said with a laugh. "We thought you'd blasted off for planet Bob with no return ticket."
"Your astrophysics jokes are the worst," the other woman said, and Jessica pretended to pout.
"Listen. All I know is that he's a great kisser, and that his hands fit really nicely right here," Anna said pointing to her back and her hips. Both women squealed in delight. "But I can't take things any further with him."
"Why not?" Jessica demanded. "The two of you have been playing this game since you met at the bookstore. And also since you met again at the Hard Deck."
Anna thought about Kevin and all of her money that she'd never see again. She thought about her manuscripts she'd put on hold to work three jobs. She thought about how she'd willingly given up Princeton for him.
"I don't want to drag him down to where I am," she whispered, running her finger along the condensation on her can of ginger ale. "I can't be in a relationship." That's all she wanted to say about Bob and Kevin right now, still too afraid to tell her friends everything. So she cleared her throat and asked, "What's with the cooking rivalry between Bradley and Jake? It's like an episode of Chopped." That seemed to open a very controversial can of worms, but at least the focus shifted away from her personal life.
------------------------------
Bob didn't even know what kind of flowers were the right ones to get, and once again, everyone else gave him useless information.
"I rarely get flowers for Sugar. I usually just grab some good beers on my way to pick her up from school, and that's enough to seal the deal. Then I get to drink the beer I like while my hot wife goes dow-"
"We get the picture, Bradshaw," Jake said loudly. "Bob, just get some cheap flowers and save the money to make her dinner one night."
"Do not get her cheap flowers!" Natasha chimed in. "If the two of you weren't attractive looking," she said, pointing to Bradley and Jake, "Sugar and Jessica would have bailed before they bothered to uncover actual brain cells underneath the pretty hair." Both men looked startled before eventually nodding in agreement. "You need to get good flowers and plan to invite her for dinner. Not one or the other," Nat finished, pounding her fist into her other palm. "No wonder Bob never gets laid when I'm not around to straighten everything out."
"Can we not talk about that?" he mumbled, adjusting his glasses. "And it's not like I just want to...get laid. By just anybody."
"Yeah, yeah," Natasha said, tapping away on her phone. "You're a romantic. Go get her flowers like these ones."
Bob examined her screen when she held it up for him. He memorized the red and orange blooms the best he could, and soon they started to remind him of Anna's hair. "Got it," he told her, turning toward his truck before anyone else could tell him something that may or may not end up being useful. He'd get the flowers and then invite her over. He wasn't as good at cooking as Jake or Bradley, but he'd try anyway. He was mostly out of practice since he didn't have anyone to cook for, really, but they both offered to send him their favorite recipes.
The florist was nice and listened to him ramble about orange and red flowers for a minute before putting together something that was even prettier than he could have imagined. The sixty dollar price tag shocked him, but it didn't stop him from also grabbing a book from the front window of the shop next door. It was a new one he'd been wanting to read himself, not quite one of the classics that Anna seemed to favor, but he figured she wouldn't have read it yet. He'd let her borrow it and dog ear all the pages up, and then he'd read it and think about her the whole time.
But when he got to the San Diego State University campus, he sat in his truck and stared at the clock on his dashboard. It was 6:32. She had office hours until 7:00, so he really needed to head in there. Doubt was creeping in now, because they left things off at a weird place. He had no idea what Anna really wanted from him, if anything. If she told him no or hesitated today, he was going to have to start sorting out his feelings for her and dismantling them bit by bit.
It was 6:47 by the time he finally made his way through the academic building on his way to Anna's office. Several people turned and looked at him in his khaki uniform with the huge bouquet of flowers in his hand, and this would have been a lot less stressful if Anna was actually his girlfriend and not a woman he thought might never be that. When he reached the hallway that smelled like freshly baked bread, he found her small office right away where it was tucked back from the main walkway. The door was ajar, and he could hear her voice, so he stood there in the hallway a little awkwardly, trying to fight the urge to run back to his truck.
The door opened another inch, and Bob could see Anna's fingers and her burgundy painted nails peeking out as her voice got louder. "Here's a copy of the extra study guide. Don't forget there's a quiz on Monday. If you can ace that, then I think you'll be in better shape for the final. And try not to be too hard on yourself, Hemingway can be a bit of a challenge for anyone."
"Thanks, Dr. Webber."
The door opened all the way, and a young man filed out with a frown on his face, and then Anna was just standing there right in front of Bob. Her hair was in a loose braid, her lips had some sort of purple-ish gloss on them, and she was wearing some snug jeans and an SDSU sweatshirt. "Bob," she breathed, and it sounded like music. Her gaze raked over his uniform and the vibrant flowers before returning to his face, brown eyes more vulnerable than he ever thought they should be.
"Hi, Anna." He couldn't think of anything better to say as she backed up a step into her small office and nodded her head once for him to join her. After two of his long strides, Bob was practically bumping into her desk. Then she closed the door and leaned against it, hands tucked behind her back.
She cleared her throat, but her voice was still soft as she said, "You look nice in your uniform."
"Thanks," he replied automatically. She could have said anything, and he would have thanked her.
"Those are beautiful. Are they for me?" she whispered, eyes falling to the flowers again.
"Of course they are."
Bob watched her eyelashes brush her cheeks as her eyes fluttered closed. "You didn't have to do that. Flowers are so expensive."
"I got you a book, too," he said, sliding it out from behind the bouquet. Her eyes snapped open so she could read the title, and he said, "It's a new release, so I was hoping you didn't preorder it or anything."
Anna's cheeks were growing pinker by the second, making her freckles look more prominent. He was about to ask if she wanted to come over for dinner one night when she launched herself across the three feet of empty space, colliding softly with his body. Bob dropped the flowers and the book onto her desk just as she kissed him, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck.
She kissed him like they did this all the time, and his hands went right to her waist where they fit perfectly. "Thank you," she murmured against his lips. "Nobody ever got me books before you."
The words before you echoed in his brain. He didn't want there to be an after. He wanted this to be the real deal where neither of them had to be in a relationship where they weren't constantly trading books back and forth with someone.
Anna kissed him until his glasses were crooked, and she raked her fingers through his hair until he was sure it was a mess. And somehow she ended up pushing him back until he was sitting on the edge of her desk with his long legs splayed apart. He knew he was in trouble; he could feel himself slipping already. She let her hands trail down the back of his neck, over his shoulders, and down the front of his shirt. She adjusted all of his pins and touched his name tag along the way as her lips barely brushed his. Her fingers moved so slowly, he thought maybe he could get himself under control, but it was no use. He was hard in his pants, and her exploratory hands weren't stopping.
"Anna."
All that did was make her kiss him harder again.
"Please."
All that did was have her pressing the font of her jeans to his khakis with a little gasp. Maybe the guys had been right about this kind of thing after all. Maybe visiting her during office hours was all it was going to take to get to the next level. Her fingers made it all the way down to his thighs, scraping along just inches from his erection, and Bob was afraid he was going to embarrass himself. He thought about icebergs and refrigerators and the Arctic Circle, but nothing alleviated the aching heat under his skin as Anna licked his lip and almost nudged the tip of his cock.
But then she said the most devastating sentence he could think of. "Bob, I really like you. But we're just friends, okay?" Then she kissed him again like she hadn't spoken something so harsh, and he thought maybe he imagined it. "Just really good friends who make out with each other."
"Fuck," he grunted, trying to get control even as his hands kneaded the bare skin of her lower back. "Anna." He swallowed hard and pulled his mouth away from hers, examining her wide eyes. Her teeth sank into her pouty bottom lip when he said, "I was going to invite you over for dinner later this week."
"As friends?" she whispered, her hands still planted on his thighs.
Bob nodded like an idiot, because once again, he was going to agree to anything she said right then. "Sure."
She kissed him softly and said, "Okay."
-------------------------
But is it okay? Is it really? Next up, let's see how this dinner goes. We might need Nat to fully step in and take care of business again. Also, I love Bradley and Jake in this chapter so so so much! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
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#bob floyd x oc#robert bob floyd x oc#robert bob floyd#bob floyd#robert floyd imagine#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd fanfiction#robert floyd x oc#robert floyd fanfiction#robert floyd fic#robert floyd#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#covering the classics#bob floyd fic
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Okie but I really would love more Barty x potter sibling reader it just makes me happy I don’t care if it’s smut fluff angst I will read whatever you write please👉🏻👈🏻
love these goofs so much, thanks for your request!
Barty Crouch Jr x Potter!reader who feels really bad for manatees
CW: talking about how it's illegal to interact with manatees and how sad that is (read: it's fluff), fem!reader, reader has long enough hair to push behind her ear
It had taken a bit of coercion on James’ part to convince Regulus to join him up in Gryffindor tower tonight - and by coercion, I mean James batted his eyelashes dramatically and promised lots of cuddles and kisses for Regulus’ ‘trouble’ - but James was feeling quite chuffed as he and his now official boyfriend stepped through the portrait hole of the Gryffindor common room.
Those feelings of chuffedness quickly vanished when he spotted you cozied up in an armchair built for one with none other than Barty Crouch Junior.
“Who would you rather she be with, James?” Regulus hissed at him, alerting James to the fact that he’d been grumbling aloud.
“Anyone.” He muttered petulantly.
Regulus scoffed in response. “Please; I hardly think you’d believe anyone good enough for your sister.”
James thought that Regulus was quite right.
“I think you’re quite right.” He admitted aloud before starting towards the two of you.
“James Fleamont Potter.” Regulus hissed as he grabbed James roughly by the sleeve. “You look at me right now.”
James wrenched his eyes away from you to look at Regulus’ fuming (though no less beautiful) eyes, dividing his attention between two of the people he loved the most in the whole world.
“James Potter, boyfriend or not I will drown you in the Black Lake and leave you to the sodding squid if you go over there right now.”
James ripped his gaze from where Barty’s hand sat on your knee to look at his boyfriend scandalized. “You wouldn’t.”
“You know I would.” Regulus threatened promised. “Do not fuck around with the only love he receives.”
James fought the urge to whine as he turned his gaze back over to the two of you; you were speaking animatedly, gesticulating wildly as you lamented about something James would have absolutely told you to shut the fuck up about nearly 30 seconds in.
“You can see how much he worships her, Jamie. And I think you should feel grateful knowing that there is truly no one who would be as devoted to her as he is.”
James did whine petulantly at that, even perhaps embarrassingly stomping his foot a little bit, though he would deny it if you asked. “I hate it.”
“Tough.” Regulus said simply, pulling James over to a love seat near the fireplace; close enough to see and hear the two of you, but not close enough that the pair would alert either of you to their presence. “Just be quiet and watch.”
James made a dramatic gagging sound earning him a smack up the back of the head from his boyfriend, but he acquiesced and turned his attention back to the two of you.
You were curled up on Barty’s lap; your back resting against the arm of the chair and your feet tucked under Barty’s thigh that you weren’t currently perched on.
You regularly tried to shove your feet under people that you were sitting with because your feet were always cold; James knew this because he’d swatted at your legs enough times for doing it to him. Barty didn’t seem to mind much though.
He also didn’t seem to mind that you were holding one of his hands hostage in yours as you fiddled and played with the various rings adorning his hands, speaking a million miles a minute and hardly pausing to take a breath.
“I just think it’s so sad. I mean; they don’t know! They don’t know that it’s not safe for them to be around people, but I can’t help thinking; what if they think we’re ignoring them?!” You asked emphatically.
Barty’s eyebrows rose to mirror yours as he raised his free hand to push a lock of hair behind your ear that had fallen in your theatrics.
“It’s because they have no natural predators, you see.” You continued solemnly, earning you an ‘oh, really?’ from Barty. “Many people think that sharks or alligators may pose a threat to manatees; but the species peacefully coexist. So, you know, then all of a sudden there are these long noodly manatee things in the water and the manatees are just like ‘holy shit; that’s a weird looking manatee! I’ve never seen one of those before.’ And then they try to make friends or say hello, but it’s illegal for humans to touch them.”
“Illegal?” Barty queried. “To touch an animal begging you to touch it?”
“Exactly!” You agreed quite loudly, if you asked James. He watched though as Barty’s hand moved back down to your legs and brushed his thumb in soothing circles as he kept his attention dutifully on you. “So they’re asking for pets or saying hello and trying to make friends; and people have to just…keep swimming. I’m sure they believe we must be quite rude, always ignoring them like that.”
You sounded actually quite dejected at the thought; your face falling as you looked down at Barty’s hand in your lap.
“Do you think perhaps there are mermaids where the manatees live?” Barty asked, earning him an eager gasp from you as you seemed to remember something.
“That’s brilliant Barty.” You shouted; and though James expected a cocky expression to grace Barty’s face at being told he was right about something, it never came. In fact, his face remained dutifully lovesick.
“Did you know that muggles used to believe manatees were actually mermaids or sirens during the late 15th century?”
Barty scoffed at that. “Well they’ve clearly never seen a mermaid before if they believe those sweet things resemble one.”
“Well yes, but I think muggles imagine mermaids differently. More just a beautiful lady living in the water, maybe with a tail; the beauty standards back then idealized curvy women.”
“Obviously, curvy birds are hot.”
“I know!” You agreed quickly. “I’m sure though that if we have mermaids in the sodding Black Lake, surely they have them in the America's?”
Barty was quickly nodding his head at you. “I’m sure I’ve read somewhere that they do, Princess.”
“Yeah?” You asked hopefully.
James watched as Barty’s face broke out in a soft grin as you met his eyes. “Would I ever lie to you?”
You shook your head in response and returned your gaze to your lap where you continued playing with his hand.
“Maybe the mermaids are friends with the manatees? They look like they’d just love some belly rubs.” You mused.
“Perhaps someone just needs to tell the mermaids to tell the manatees that it’s for their own good.”
You looked back up at that. “Yeah?”
“They could be like our underwater owl; we just travel to…”
“Florida.” You offered for him.
“Florida and find some mermaids to deliver our message.”
You seemed to consider the idea before looking back at him. “I think you might have to do it alone.”
Barty tilted his head at you and squeezed your calf. “You wouldn’t want to come with me to swim with manatees and mermaids?”
You shook your head. “I don’t think I could; if a manatee approached me I would have to pet it and then the manatees would all die and it would be my fault.”
Barty hummed in understanding and brought one of his hands to your chin. “Okay, Princess; I’ll be your oceanic owl.”
“You’d do that for me?”
Barty gently pulled you by your chin to slot your lips together. “I would do anything for you.”
James, having had quite enough of seeing such sickening displays of love thank you very much, turned his very unimpressed glare to Regulus, who was already looking at him with one perfectly arched eyebrow.
“That’s disgusting.” He grumbled indignantly.
“Are you telling me you wouldn’t be a manatee’s owl for me? Don’t I deserve that?”
James scoffed derisively at that. “I think it’s very obvious I would; you’re the most deserving person I know!”
“Then doesn’t your sister deserve that too?” Regulus asked gently.
James’ eyes moved back over to where you were now tracing delicate shapes over Barty’s face with your forefinger, yet he still couldn’t seem to force his eyes away from lovingly gazing at you.
“Let me ask you this, Jamie.” Regulus asked, joining James in watching his friend and James’ sister from afar. “Do you think there’s a line you would draw when it comes to how far you’d go for me?”
“No!”
“No?”
“Of course not.” James insisted.
“So you’d kill your mother for me?”
What?
“What?” James asked dumbly.
Regulus smirked. “Would you kill your own mother for me?”
“Erm,”
“Jamie.”
“Yeah?”
“The answer is no; that’s the right answer.”
“Oh thank Godric.” James sighed, holding his head in his hands.
“But Barty would; Barty would raze the entire fucking earth for Y/N.” Regulus continued. “And even if he wouldn’t,” He continued when James seemed to take issue with that. “How long would you have let her talk about manatees?”
James huffed and crossed his arms petulantly, even though he knew the answer. The answer was that he would have cut her off the second he realized she wasn’t talking about quidditch or pranks.
“She’s very loved, James. And he…” Regulus seemed to take an emotional breath as he watched his oldest friend take your hand and bring it to his lips to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “You Potter’s love like no one else I’ve ever known, James.”
James turned his full attention to his boyfriend and took one of Regulus’ hands in both of his.
“You love loudly, and openly, and freely, and everyone around you is better for it. Barty most of all.”
James let out a sigh and kissed Regulus’ knuckles.
“Fine.” He relented in faux irritation.
Regulus chuckled and pressed a shy kiss to James’ shoulder. “Don’t worry James, you Potter’s are in the protection of Slytherin’s now; we protect our own.”
And whether or not James particularly liked Barty, if there was one thing he knew to be true; no one would be able to mess with you with the likes of him around.
#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#barty crouch junior#barty crouch jr#slytherin skittles#the slytherin skittles#barty crouch jr imagine#barty crouch jr x reader#barty crouch jr x you#barty crouch jr fluff#barty crouch jr drabble#barty crouch jr ficlet#potter!reader#fem!reader#jegulus#background jegulus#ellecdc fics
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saturn
pairings: bucky barnes x reader
summary: bucky just likes to spoil his doll. you shouldn't expect any less on date night
genre: do you even have to ask anymore? ofc it's fluff
*not my gif*
it was your favorite night of the week. date night. you and bucky promised to spend one night a week just for yourselves. no missions, no avengers, just the two of you.
you would switch off planning every other week. today it was bucky's turn, and he always had the most romantic ideas.
you always loved spending time with bucky, but you especially needed it today. you felt inexplicably exhausted and wanted nothing more than sweet kisses and soft whispers from your blue eyed soldier.
his hands were resting on your hips and he had this teasing grin that told you he was up to something. "sam's letting us borrow his truck and it's already packed up."
you arched a brow, "how long are we going to be gone?" he kisses your forehead, "just for the night. don't worry, doll. i've got everything under control."
his words melted your heart and a smile spread across your lips instantly. "you can't tell me anything? not even an itty bitty clue?" you asked with a pout.
he gave you a stern look, "no, because that would ruin the surprise."
you groaned, but bucky just wrapped you in his arms and kissed all over your face, "you can wait a couple hours. trust me, it'll be worth it."
you grinned and shook your head, but you believed him.
he set you down carefully, "now go pack an overnight, so we can get out of here." you laughed and started walking away, but jumped as you felt bucky slap your ass. you turned around and shot him a glare.
the drive down was long and unfamiliar. you practically sighed in relief when bucky finally stopped the vehicle and turned off the engine.
you stepped out to stretch your legs and look around, but there was nothing to see. nothing but miles of fields and distant trees.
"hey, bucky?" you shouted to him as he got out too.
"yeah?" he shouted back, digging in the cargo bed for something.
"did you drag me out here to murder me?" you joke bluntly.
you turn to meet his disappointed scowl. "really?" he asks as you walk towards him.
you laugh, "i'm kidding! but seriously, what are we doing all the way out here?
bucky starts unfolding blankets and making a pallet in the back of the truck, "well, ever since we watched the one movie about the girl who falls in love with the boy but doesn't tell him she's dying, you haven't stopped talking about how romantic star-gazing is. so..."
he pulls out a large telescope and has the cutest grin on his face. you can hardly contain your excitement, "bucky! that's so sweet!" he gently sets the device down before you run into his arms.
"anything for you, doll face," he chuckles and places a kiss on your temple.
you help him finish setting the scene before laying in his arms and talking for a couple of hours. and of course, he brought snacks. could he be anymore perfect?
once it finally gets dark enough for you to see the stars, you look up in awe. you'd lost complete track of time with bucky. he stands up in the bed of the truck and reaches for your hand to lift you to your feet.
bucky brings you close and positions the telescope just right for you. he stands right up against you as you gaze at the sparkling sky. every now and then you'll ask him about a constellation and he'll look at this book that he brought along to give you the answers.
one could say it was the perfect date, but what really made it perfect was him.
a/n: i low key rushed the ending but its fiiiine. it's 4 am, give me a break.
#marvel#mcu#fanfiction#avengers#marvel fluff#bucky barnes#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x reader#a walk to remember mentioned!!#saturn sza
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we can't be friends | draco malfoy
pairing: draco malfoy x reader | genre: friends to lovers | warning: angst, minors dni | word count: 1.9k | stefy's note: this my first ever fic of draco cause man I DO HAVE A THING FOR VILLANS, so enjoy :)
[ BACK TO MASTERLIST ]
Words had always been left unsaid between Draco and you. One night in Fifth Year, he figured if he told you he had a small crush on you, he could get over it. He just didn’t expect you to say you had one back. Or for him to kiss you, and you kiss him back. It made his world crumble before his eyes.
Yet, he made you promise that was a one time thing, and he himself would want to stay friends and act like nothing happened. Which, worked, but he found himself only confiding in you for things.
As usual you were laying on the bed, at your dorm, reading without checkinh the clock. In the same time you were worried about Draco and everything that he has been dealing with lately.
There was a quiet knock at your dorm room door. Your dormmates never knocked. A bit of a pause. A knock again. That was definitely Draco's hand. He was knocking quietly, trying not to startle you. No doubt he wasn't really allowed to be there, but his mind and heart wouldn't allow him to walk away. He needed you, and right now he needed you in a way that he would never admit.
Getting up, closing the block and leaving it aside you. That's when you go to open the door, knowing that it might be Draco.
He was standing there in the dim moonlight, shadows obscuring his face. With his usual, perfect posture, arms crossed, the shadows made him look all the more intimidating. He could sense your presence before he ever saw you, but he was surprised by how soft your footsteps were as you walked down the room. Not a single noise was made that wasn't from his breath or his heartbeat. He looked...different. More vulnerable than usual, almost nervous but still his usual self.
"Is everything ok?" You look at him curiously, worried about what happened. "Did something happen?"
He wasn't expecting you to open the door so quickly in reply. His heart skipped a beat, and his gaze was now glued to you. He was trying his best to keep his voice calm and steady, although he was shaking slightly, and it was pretty clear as to why. When he spoke, he cleared his throat, his tone of voice was as stiff as his body language, his hands in his pockets as usual. "Yes. I just needed to talk to you. May...? May I come in?"
"Sure, come in." You say while moving aside for him to enter the room. Still being confused and worried about what might have happened at this hour.
The door closed behind him, and in the room were now just the two of you. Without taking out his hands from his pockets, he started speaking once more. Again, his voice was as cold and stiff as his demeanor. However, for a small moment, he felt himself relax as he glanced down to the ground. He noticed that you were looking a little tired and a bit confused, but he pushed that aside. "Right...can I sit?"
"Sure." You say, taking a seat next to him ans being prepare to listen to what he has to say.
His heart was beating faster. He could almost feel it. His entire body was trembling now, but he was trying his best to hide his nerves. His breath was quickening, and he wanted to keep his hands steady, but they were shaking. Still...he did not hesitate to take a seat next to you. He then spoke, his voice still as stiff and cold as before, only this time there was a slight...shake. His eyes were fixed on the ground, trying to look anywhere but at you.
That's when you took his face in your hands, making him look at you. "Draco...talk to me...what is it?"
He freezes for a moment. The sound of his breathing suddenly quickened. Your touch was sending shivers down his spine, but he was trying to hide it as much as possible. He swallowed the lump in his throat and glanced up at you. Those familiar blue-grey eyes gazing back at him, the touch of your hands almost calming him. A few moments passed. "Can I ask you something..?"
"Yes" You nod, looking at him and still holding his face in your hands.
He swallows the massive lump in his throat again, his voice shaky and low but his eyes never leaving yours. You had a good heart, he knew that, and he knew that he did trust you. Still...what he was about to ask was completely and utterly irrational. His stomach was in knots from his nerves. You must've known he was nervous, because normally he never was around you. He wanted to say so many things, but all he could manage was a single question. "Can I stay here tonight..?"
"Of course." You smile looking at him. "I'll have to get you a blanket and a pillow or if you don't mind..." You feel your words trail off. "You can stay with me...i mean in my bed."
His heart felt like it was about to explode from its chest. He was trying to stop himself from smirking. He was about to agree to something completely insane. And he was completely and utterly aware of it. Yet when you spoke, the words came crashing down on him. The words that were not even a second ago the last thing he thought you would offer him. "...are you sure...? You don't mind..?"
"If you manage to keep your side of the bed, there shouldn't be any problem." You say giggling a bit, trying to lighten up the mood.
He couldn't help but let out a small laugh. Your joking manner was certainly helping him calm down, even if it was just by a bit. Still, the fact that he was allowed back into your bed made his heart beat faster again. And the thought of you and him being right next to each other all night long. "Trust me, I won't complain. At all."
"Well let's get you to bed." You say as you get up. "Before Spane starts to see that we are past curefew." You say laughing a bit, still trying to lighten up the mood.
He chuckled slightly, his laugh being just a bit more genuine than before. He got up and looked up at you, now his entire face was more...expressive than usual. "Aye, yes...I imagine he would be pretty pissed after a certain hour. I would hate for you to be punished just for me."
"That won't happen." You said smiling and looked at him, taking a deep breath. "And even if it happens we can always use our wands."
He laughed again, although the laughter was now even more sincere. The fact that you weren't afraid to break a few rules was something he had always appreciated about you before. He then smirked, he could do with a little rule-breaking that night if it meant spending time with you. "Right...I forgot. A lot of things can be dealt with a few spells and magic. Especially with our wands. But...we should still be careful about things, right..?"
The two of you were sharing a bed, with a pillow between the two of you, keeping your or him from making any moves. Your back was facing him, as you were dressed in yout casual nightgown. Keeping your eyes closed was the only mechanism from you to try the ignore the closeness you were in.
The two of you were lying there, a thick blanket covering the both of you, while a thin pillow kept you as separate as possible. To be honest, he was trying as hard as possible not to touch you or get close to you in any way whatsoever. He was trying to stay calm, relax, and try not to do something so utterly insane and reckless. Yet your closeness alone was driving him crazy, let alone the fact that you were right next to him. It would take a lot of willpower to keep his hands to himself.
You turn around to talk to him, but all you manage to say is. "Draco..." You whispered, hoping not to wake him up.
He froze in his spot, as still as a statue. His heart had nearly stopped beating as soon as he heard your voice. He knew that you were still awake, as he was still awake as well. He hadn't fallen to sleep or dozed off at all. His eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling. His breath had quickened slightly. He wanted to speak, but the sound of his voice would give away how nervous he was. All he managed was a whisper back. Your name. "Yes..?"
"Why are you here?" You whisper back to him. "And i know it's not because you came here to sleep..." You added coming closer to him, keeping yourself from touching him.
He felt you move closer to him. His entire body was trembling now, and his blood was coursing through his veins. Was he really doing this? Of course, he was doing this, he couldn't back out of this now. Your question could be heard loud and clear. He swallowed again, his voice shaky and weak. "I...I didn't want to be alone tonight...and to be perfectly honest...I felt like I needed...well..."
"What is it?" You asked coming closer to him, touching his face and caressing his cheek lightly.
His breath hitched as you touched his cheek. He was trying so hard not to break his own rule. He was trying so hard not to lean towards you. The warmth of your hand on his face sent shivers down his spine. He swallowed again, his throat still tight. "Tonight...I felt like I needed...you...and only you..."
"I'm here." That's when you forget about all the rules that the two of you had in mind. Moving the pillow from between both of you, you come closer to him.
All caution and self-restraint was thrown out the window as soon as you grabbed the pillow and tossed it out. He could feel his heartbeat getting louder with each step, and it was clear as day that this was the last point of no return. No matter what happened now, it would change things completely. You didn't have any rules in mind anymore. Neither did he. You were just a few centimeters away, close enough where you could kiss him. Too close. His hand reached up to touch your face, gently.
You leaned into his touch closing your eyes and started breathing heavily as the two of you were so close to each other. His entire body was shaking when you leaned into his hand. When you closed your eyes, it was that moment he was waiting for. He reached the other hand under your chin and slowly, but firmly drew you towards him. His eyes never left yours as he made you lean in closer to him. The distance between the two of you was now...millimeters until your lips met.
© SLYTHERINOBSESSED — do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
#Spotify#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy x y/n#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy x female reader#slytherin#slytherin boys#slytherin x reader#slytherin imagine#draco x reader#draco x y/n#draco x you#draco x female reader
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Untitled pt.2
Leah x OC
A/N: A little more in my current project. I’m still getting a feel for my characters. Feedback/thoughts welcome.
“What are we at, one more week?” Kim adjusted the weight on the bench press bar.
“Abouts yeah. I make it to the end of the week without any pain and things feel normal, I’ll get to run on the grass with everyone next.”
Kim laid down on the bench. “Well I’m sure you know what I’m going to say, but I’m going to say it anyway. Don’t do anything stupid and listen to your body. If something is off, waiting an extra day or 2 isn’t going to kill you.” She pushed the bar up off the rack. “Trust me.” She grunted as she lowered the bar to her chest.
“I hear you. And I won’t.”
“Hey Caps.” Beth came bouncing to the end of the bench. “Le, what time do we have the venue for Saturday?”
“Umm, 9 until whenever really. Though I told ‘em it would probably wrap up around 5. 6 hours for a baby shower seemed like more than enough.” Leah answered as she spotted Kim.
“Probably right on that. So we have 2 hours to decorate? That should be plenty. I think Steph has the catering scheduled for between 10 and 11.” Beth twisted her lips as she tried to remember.
“What did I do?”
“Catering. What time is that showing up?”
“Ah, yeah. 10:30 bouts. I’ll call and confirm on Thursday though.”
Kim put the bar back on the rack and sat up. “If we can get in at 9, I’ll schedule the cake and sweets to come around 10.”
“So we just need all the girls to show up at 9 to set up?” Leah switched with Kim after removing a few pounds from either end of the bar.
“Yeah, that should be about it. Caitlin promised that she kept a check on Katie and the games, but Stina is going to claim that she will be the one running the games so she can see what she came up with.”
“Good idea Meado. When Katie called dibs on games and said she was going to use a few “McCabe family classics” I was a bit worried about what those would entail. You really never know what you might get with an Irish family that large.” Kim helped Leah lift the bar to start her set.
“I thought most of Katie’s siblings were younger than her?” Steph asked.
“Ask her to name all her cousins some time.” Lotte interjected as she joined the group. “We talking about Erin’s baby shower?” The group nodded. “You know she’s right there.” Lotte pointed across the room to Erin, their social media content creator, who was sitting in a chair with a laptop balanced on a very round belly. “I thought this was supposed to be a surprise.”
“She has her headphones in editing. She can’t hear anything.” Beth shrugged. “You have everything worked out with Dylan?”
“Yeah. Him and Tao have some plan that Dylan swears Erin will fall for. They’re going to tell her I have a children’s event to attend so I can help set up.”
“Great. And Viv has been talking to Erin’s family, she just needs to confirm the time with them.” Beth added.
“What about Dylan’s family?” Leah said as she finished her set in the bench press. “I know they're American, but is Dylan’s parents planning on being here when Gemma is born? They might be in by then.”
Lotte shook her head. “Dylan told me and Tao he doesn’t talk to anyone in his family besides his cousin Rose.”
“Wait, isn’t that the middle name they’re giving Gemma?” Steph asked.
“Yeah. Rose is the cousin he grew up with. Dylan talks about her like a sister. I think she’s a year or two older. But she’ll be there. So he’ll at least have some family.” Lotte finished.
“Sounds like this is going to be a fantastic party for our little Gooner and her mum.” Kim looked around the group. “But now, finish up your reps. We’re on the pitch in 30.”
Everyone saluted their captain before dispersing.
**************************
The week for the most part had gone smoothly. The team didn’t have their first January game for another 10 days. But Leah was finally going to be able to join team trainings next week, after almost 9 months, and the anticipation was wearing her thin. Several times she was asked if she was excited, or nervous, and repeatedly reminded that the wait was almost over. Almost. She was sure Saturday was going to be full of the same, though the full Arsenal staff and then some would be at Erin’s baby shower, so Leah would hear it ten fold. She needed a break. Which is how she found herself out to dinner on a Friday night, alone, sitting at the end of the bar top of the restaurant she had come to the previous week. She had come in a little earlier this time though, hoping it would be less crowded before the dinner rush, and she had been right, allowing her to get the same seat at the end with her back to everyone else. Tonight she would be any other diner. Not soon to return from injury, Leah Williamson.
Leah greeted Colin as she took her seat, ordering a glass of Chardonnay. The bar keep was placing the glass in front of Leah with a menu before she had even gotten comfortable.
“Would you like the chicken again?” The ginger asked.
“Might do an app first. Take my time and do some reading on my phone if it’s no bother.” Leah smiled.
“Not at all. I’d say the hummus is great. That and the pitas are made in house.”
“Yeah? Alright. I’ll start with that, thanks.” Leah pushed the menu back towards Colin. “And I’ll order the chicken a little later.”
Colin reached for the menu. “I’ll have that right out.”
Leah leaned back in her chair and pulled up the book she was reading on her phone. Picking the wine glass up off the bar, she took a small sip and relaxed. Colin placed a plate in front of her a short time later and for the next 20 minutes or so, she enjoyed her wine and appetizer completely uninterrupted while she read. The noise in the restaurant slowly rose as the main dining area filled and the seats at the bar top were taken one by one. Colin had just refilled her wine and was putting in her dinner order when someone finally claimed the last seat next to her.
“Is this seat taken, miss?”
Leah had heard that voice before. She lowered her phone. “No it’s not. By all means.” She smiled at the new guest. “Hello again RJ.”
“Miss Williamson.” RJ smiled softly as they pulled out the chair before placing their coat over the back. “Nice seeing you here again.”
“Will you be watching another football match?” Leah asked as she watched RJ prop their phone up on top of the bar.
“I was planning on finally watching Sinclair’s last international match. Figured if I did it in public I wouldn’t cry.” RJ waved at Colin and gave him a thumbs up. Clearly not needing words to order.
“Are you Canadian?”
RJ chuckled and shook their head slightly. “No. But as a kid I just kind of decided she was my favorite player and that was that. Figured after a month I should finally just bite the bullet and watch the damn game.”
“Mmmm, yeah, retirement games are hard to watch. She’s still playing one more year for the Thorns though, yeah?” Leah finished the last of her wine and caught Colin’s eye, signally for another glass.
“She is. But that doesn’t make watching this any easier.” RJ picked up their phone and waved it before unlocking it. Leah couldn’t help but notice that their background looked like an abstract black and white print of some sort. Once RJ had the game queued up they set it back on the bar top. “You’re welcome to watch. But I won’t bother you if you wish to continue what you were doing.” They hit the play button on the screen.
“Thank you. I think I might try to finish this chapter of the book I was reading.” Leah turned back to her phone as Colin placed RJ’s drink down and refilled Leah’s wine glass. The pair sat in companionable silence as Leah continued reading.
“Who do you think is going to take the armband in the future?” Leah broke the silence after putting her phone down. “Sinc has been captain far longer than I can remember.”
“Fleming.” JR’s said with a seconds hesitation.
“Seriously? She’s so young?”
RJ turned in their chair and looked Leah straight in the eye. “Really?” They paused for a moment. “You, the youngest captain in England history, is going to say that Jessie Fleming, who is 25, is too young.”
“Oh. Yeah I see your point.”
“Aside from her age.” RJ turned back. “She’s been a regular fixture on the national team for about 9 years. When Sinc and Schmidt stepped off this field she was the 4th longest tenured player on the team.” RJ took a sip of their drink.
“You aren’t just a casual fan, are you?
RJ side-eyed Leah. “What makes you say that?”
“A casual fan generally doesn’t know those types of statistics for a player who don’t play for their team”
“How do you know she doesn’t play for “my team”?” RJ used air quotes. “She may not play for the US, but.”
“Ew. You’re a Chelsea fan?” Leah dramatically recoiled further from RJ who just laughed.
“No.” RJ smiled. A full bright, cheerful smile. “I am a fan of the players individually, especially Fishel and Macario. But not the team as a whole.”
“Do you even have a WSL team?” Leah raised an eyebrow.
“I do.” RJ smirked. “And don’t worry. They wear the right shade of red.” They leaned back in their seat. “Can I ask you something? None football related and not terribly personal.” They rushed out the last bit. “And you obviously don’t have to answer.”
“Well with those conditions, sure.”
RJ tilted their head. “If you hadn’t become a pro footballer, what would you have chosen to do?”
“Probably an accountant or something like that. I’m pretty good with numbers and enjoy that there is always an answer to any problem.”
“Figures.”
“What’s that s’pose to me?” Leah asked, offended by the assumption, regardless of what it was.
“You play football like a mathematician, calculated.”
“Oh.” Leah adjusted in her seat, sitting up a bit straighter. “Thank you.”
RJ just hummed in response.
“What about you? You obviously know what I do and now what I would do.” Leah relaxed a bit in her chair. “Colin said you did something in media, I think.”
RJ glanced down the bar at the mentioned bartender. “Digital media.”
“What do you do in digital media? That seems like a, a very broad field. And do you work for a company in the UK?”
RJ took a long slow sip of their drink, clearly stalling as they then swirled the liquid in the glass before answering. “The company is US based. I do a lot of behind the scenes stuff, sometimes editing, camera work, desk stuff.”
Leah picked up her phone. “Must be a small company if you’re doing all of that. Is there an Insta page I can check out? Give a like.”
“Yes, we have an Instagram account.”
“Okay. What’s the name of the company?” Leah had the app open and was just waiting.
RJ had their glass to their lips when they answered. “-third.”
“What was that?”
“Attacking Third.” RJ repeated.
“Really? That’s the show that covers the NWSL, right?” Leah started looking at the company's account on their app. “If they cover the NSWL, what are you doing here? Covering former NWSL players or something?”
“Something like that.”
Colin approached with a plate in hand. “Ms. Williamson, your chicken.” He slid the plate onto the bartop. “Enjoy. RJ, did you want anything?” RJ raised their now empty glass. “Be right back.”
After Colin dropped off the drink, the pair continued watching the game in silence as Leah ate her meal. Her plate was finished and cleared away when the match hit halftime. “I should get going. I have an event I need to be at tomorrow morning with the girls that will be far more mentally draining than 90 minutes on the pitch.”
RJ chuckled. “I can only imagine.”
The footballer gave the other patron a soft smile. “It was good to see you again. Maybe we’ll get lucky again.”
“I’ll get my hopes up.” They smiled. “Have a good evening Ms. Williamson.”
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happy birthday
author’s note: a little fun fact about me, my birthday is actually on svt’s debut date, may 26th, so it is always an exceptionally special day for me hehe
synopsis: you expected a mystery cake, but your thoughtful boyfriend surprised you even more.
word count: 0.6k | genre: fluff, humour/crack | pairing: wonwoo x gn! reader | warnings: reader is shorter than wonwoo, mentions of cake and sweets, one curse word
“what flavour is the cake?” you asked excitedly when you spotted wonwoo with the big box upon exiting the bright doors of the bakery. the two of you came to pick up your pre placed order of a surprise mystery cake for your birthday, since you wanted to have a little fun this year with it. “i won’t tell you, you will have to guess it.” wonwoo replied mischievously, a little smirk evident on his face. “come on, don’t be such a meanie on my birthday!” you huffed to which he burst out in giggles and stepped towards you, towering over you. “sorry sweetheart, no can do, you will have to wait.” he whispered into your hair while kissing the crown of your head. “but i am so curious!” you pressed further with puppy eyes looking up at him, really trying to see if you could make his defenses crumble. “nuh uh don’t give me the sad puppy eyes, i won’t ruin the fun because someone here is a little curious.” he stated, determined to keep his mouth shut for the time being. “you are no fun.” you said while sulking and walking towards the car in the parking lot. you could tell he felt a bit bad about it, although he was absolutely right for trying to keep the promise he made to you before getting the cake, in which he swore to keep it a secret until you got home. when arriving next to the vehicle he realised he had no way of getting the container into the car by himself since his hands were full. “could you please open the car door for me?” he asked while still balancing the big cake in his hands, trying to avoid tripping in his own long legs. “tell me the flavour and i will.” you bargained even though you knew it was in vain; your precious boyfriend was way too good at keeping secrets. “fine, i will open it myself then.” as soon as he put the box on top of the car to free his hands you didn’t hesitate for a single moment and grabbed the sweet treat, opening the container to see the round ball of joy in its full glory (which by the way definitely looked too familiar, just like the flavour you loved), and to have a swipe from the delicious frosting on it. you almost managed to raise your coated finger to your mouth when a firm grip on your wrist made you freeze. “you are so bad today. what did i tell you about waiting?” wonwoo questioned with a serious look on his face; you didn’t dare move, afraid that he was actually mad, however your doubts faded away quickly when he started shaking his head in disbelief with the expression of amusement. you had a genius idea to get back at him and with a swift motion the mentioned frosting landed on his nose, looking cuter as ever. “you look exactly like a little cat, baby.” you laughed while he tried to get rid of the sweet coat and eventually tasted it. “hmm, not bad.” he smiled, satisfied with the taste. you did the same, confirming the fact that it was indeed tasty, and your favourite flavour suspiciously enough. “i wonder how the mystery cake ended up being exactly what i said i wanted before deciding on going with the flow.” you wondered out loud. “do you mind explaining it, my dear boyfriend?” you stood with hands on your hips, a playful glint in your eyes challenging him to reply. he shrugged his shoulders. “what can i say, you must be one hell of a lucky person sweetheart.” he grinned while giving you a sweet kiss on the lips. “happy birthday.”
#wonijinjin#caratsland#wonwoo x y/n#svt jeon wonwoo#wonwoo x you#svt wonwoo#seventeen jeon wonwoo#seventeen imagines#wonwoo x reader#svt imagines#seventeen scenarios#svt scenarios#seventeen drabbles#seventeen#seventeen wonwoo#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo#svt wonu#seventeen wonu#jeon wonu
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IT'S NEVER OVER - PROLOGUE (sept. 2005)
summary: if anyone asked sid, he wouldn't say that he liked pittsburgh more after meeting nat. no, that would be absurd.
warnings: short and sweet! (none)
a/n: hi, hello! am i posting this without having finished it? yes. i don't know how long it's going to be but i'm slowly chipping away at it and i'm pretty excited about it. it might even be my favourite series thing i've done so far, and weirdly my first one? i've had the entire thing outlined for months but i've been too busy to even think about posting it, so...here you go! i can't promise posts for this will be regular because the chapters are so long, but i'll try my best to keep you posted! hope you enjoy (a series mastrlist will be out soon too so you can get the gist of where i'm at in the entire process) xo
sneak peak | pinterest board
(It started with music, but Nat didn’t know that.)
It was a total accident, a random encounter that Sidney couldn’t possibly have predicted – one that, without exaggerating, changed his life to an extent. On a whim, he’d decided to go into that coffee shop he’d walked past everyday for the past three weeks, and it was also on a whim he actually made it to the counter to order an uncharacteristic coffee – he was newly eighteen, being pulled in all sorts of sports-diet directions, the confinement of which kind of irked him, so to him, buying that coffee was a subtle rebellion.
It was also a complete accident that he’d wandered off to the right after taking his coffee from the counter, instead of left, or forwards, or even backwards.
Sidney wasn’t one to believe in fate or destiny: he believed those terms were too magical – they alluded to some other worldly forces coming into play, and he liked to stick to facts. Coincidences. Accidents. Nevertheless, he did find it almost inexplicable, the way that his life hurtled into a completely different route after a mere forty minutes inside a coffee shop that he’d just spontaneously decided to make a trip of. He couldn’t quite get his head around it all.
To him, it was a coincidence that he’d walked past her table. A coincidence that she happened to be blaring the only song he’d been able to listen to for the last four days. He’d barely made it three steps past her before he froze.
She was wearing those over-the-ear headphones, the ones with orange sponges from the 80s, plugged into the iPod that had come out a few years back. He recognised it because everyone that had one in his high school before he left never shut up about it. Sidney admittedly did own one at the time, but he never really felt the need to show it off – it was much easier than lugging around a cassette or CD player with songs burnt in.
The song still had him halting in his tracks and turning around, his body much further ahead than his brain because he had to steady his mug of coffee; his sharp actions had the liquid almost sloshing over the edge, but he managed to catch it just in time.
He wouldn’t have done either of those things: stop and turn, if it had been any other song he’d heard. He was just so taken aback by it – the exact, precise song.
The girl at the table didn’t pay him a single dime of attention when he froze, despite the fact that his hip was practically nudging her table. She wasn’t even looking in his direction, her eyes gazing out of the window on her right, skipping over empty faces as people walked past. It was clear she was supposed to be doing work of some sorts: there were textbooks, novels, and flashcards scattered across the entire table, a pencil case half emptied with pens strewn all over. She had a pen clutched in the fist she was resting her chin on, not caring for the study cards at all – entirely enamoured by the view.
Sidney followed her eyes. There wasn’t much to look at, just a street, and her chair was directly facing the side of a retail store, clothes and mannequins displayed in the window.
In hindsight, Sidney didn’t really know what compelled him to do what he did next.
He couldn’t tell if she was bored and just looking out, not paying attention to the music flowing into her ears, or if she was just so absorbed in what she was hearing that she couldn’t physically bring herself to think about her work – that she’d tuned out the outside world entirely.
What caught his attention the most was the crease between her brows. It drew him to look straight at her; an alluring combination of chestnut hair and pale eyes – though not too pale that they made him uneasy. She was also probably the only person in the establishment that was around his age.
She had impeccable music taste, if he did say so himself.
Yet, he couldn’t shake the inkling that this girl was wholly feeling the brilliance and soul-crushing heartache of Jeff Buckley’s genius – and he found himself hoping she was.
That was why he cleared his throat and took a small step to the other side of the table. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, noting that the cafe was pretty busy, so he knew he could at least try to get away with what he was about to do.
He made sure to tilt his head up, because the hat covering his face would be nothing short of slightly suspicious in a public setting, and it wasn’t until he purposefully knocked into the chair that she flicked her eyes to look at him.
He held his breath, a moment when all they did was look at each other, until the crease in her brows disappeared and she reached to pause her music on her iPod, slowly sliding her earphones off so they rested around her neck.
“Hi.”
His assumptions had been correct. She was around his age – her voice was deeper than he’d originally anticipated – and when he found himself slightly closer than before, he was able to make out that she was studying for her SATs.
It was September.
“Hi.” He replied, forcing a smile that he hoped would convey the apology he felt for intruding on her personal time and in her personal space. Her clutter was all over the table, and he knew that if she was hopefully as kind to strangers as he hoped she’d to be, that it would be somewhat of a hassle to shove some of it away, “I’m really sorry, but there aren’t any other tables free. Would I be able to–”
“Oh, sure.” She interrupted, immediately going to reach to sweep a space clear for him over the other side of the table. Sidney watched with a mildly amused gaze; she didn’t seem to care for the way her flashcards seemed to mix themselves up, or the way her textbooks snapped shut and she lost her page.
She flashed him a welcoming, slightly embarrassed smile as she piled the books on top of each other, and before Sidney knew it, he was sitting in the chair opposite, accidentally knocking their knees together in the process, and sipping from his coffee mug. He fought to maintain the thankful smile on his face, despite the utterly bitter taste of the coffee that seemed to fester on his tongue.
No wonder he’d never tried coffee before, it tasted like dirt.
The girl broke a small chunk of a muffin off, a smile breaking out on her face as she fought a small laugh.
Sidney blushed, “I’m not a big coffee-fan.” He reasoned, shrugging.
“I can tell.” She pressed her lips together momentarily, looking down at the plate before turning her attention back to him. Sidney felt stunned at the colour of her eyes. He’d never seen grey eyes before, but hers seemed to balance more on the green side – only when the sun struck the side of her face, they turned a watery, clear blue. There was also a tinge of brown thrown in there.
What was that called? Heterochromia?
He felt his mouth dry, and before he could stop himself, he was taking another sip of his coffee, this time managing to control the urge to wince, “Thanks for letting me sit here.”
She shrugged, gathering the flashcards and lining them up, “It’s no problem. Sorry for the mess.”
He let his eyes wander over the books once more, the green ‘SATs’ letters jumping out at him, “You got an important date?”
The girl swallowed, not entirely understanding what he meant. That crease formed between her brows again, and she opened her mouth to question him, but Sidney beat her to it, a finger pointing at her stack of books.
She sighed, “Not entirely, they’re at the end of the school year, but one of my teachers gave us an assignment to get some revision resources done early.”
Sidney couldn’t say he understood her stress – it was something displayed across the planes of her face; evident when she looked rather tiredly at the stack of books, and hesitated at the flashcards, before throwing them to the side. She folded her arms across the table, then switched so that her hands were interlocked in front of her.
She looked as though she didn’t quite know what to do with herself, and Sidney couldn’t tell if it was because of the presence of a stranger, or if she was already feeling some sort of academic guilt for throwing her attention away from her studies for a couple of minutes.
He saw her jaw clench, and at that observation, the thought that maybe he was paying a little bit too much attention to her crossed his mind, so he turned his focus to the cup of coffee. He was beginning to feel its effects; his knee was shaking softly under the table and he could feel an influx of energy spark at his fingertips. Or maybe it wasn’t the coffee at all.
He hadn’t thought about hockey for five minutes.
He saw her turn her face towards him out of the corner of his eye, and he looked up, “What about you? Are you in school, or…?” She trailed off, her eyes skimming over the logo that had flashed itself from the safe and unzipped confines of his hoodie.
He felt his heart quicken at having been caught, worried that perhaps she’d shout out who he was – if she knew – across the entire cafe. He remained optimistic; she didn’t seem the type.
He cleared his throat, “Not anymore.” For some reason he hesitated. He could play off the logo as merchandise – he could be someone other than Sidney Crosby, the New Rookie of the Pens – or he could be honest. When he looked back at her, there was a challenge in her eyes, and Sidney knew then that she already knew who he was. “I just got drafted to the Pens for my first NHL season.”
She sighed, “Can I tell you something?”
Sidney furrowed his brows, his mouth tilting down in a smile. He was new to the whole ‘local celebrity’ deal, but this by far, is probably one of the least impressed reactions he’d ever had. She clearly knew he wasn’t in school, but had still taken the kind courtesy to ask him the question, despite the futility of it.
He nodded.
“I only know one Pens player.” Then she pointed to something out of the window, “That banner has been staring at me every week for the past three months.”
Sidney huffed a laugh, thinking she was joking, but followed her finger anyway. He was immediately faced with a street corner, tens of people walking past each other – he could even make out their voices if he concentrated hard enough, and it took a while to figure out what exactly she was pointing at, until his eyes settled on a billboard at least a block down.
He’d been told that for press reasons, the Pens had come up with the idea of a way of promoting him as a player, and a ‘person of Pittsburgh’, by plastering some action shots of him – still staged – around the city. He’d neglected to look up lately, fearing that if he did, he’d be faced with some images of himself, but he hadn’t escaped that entirely.
The billboard was small, and he wasn’t the only player on there, either, but he saw it nonetheless.
When he spun back around to look at her once more, the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “There’s two other players, not just me.”
She shrugged, “I was talking about Sergei Gonchar.”
Sidney felt the blush colour from his chest to his cheeks as he slowly put his hands over his face, consumed by humiliation. He felt himself smile into his hands when he heard the girl huff a snicker. He’d had quite a few people as of late kissing up to his ego, and apart from his teammates, she was the first one to really deliver a considerable blow – and he was thankful for that; that at least someone still had the ability to look past who he was and tease him like he was a normal person. He was aware of the irony that lay there.
He gathered himself, unabashedly removing his hands and displaying the creeping blush for her to see, and sticking his hand between them, “Sidney Crosby, rookie center for the Pittsburgh Penguins.”
She rolled her eyes, not commenting on the state of his cheeks, her smile fading slightly but still remaining, “I was joking, I know who you are.” She took his hand in hers, gripping it tightly, “Nat Brooks. Student.”
Sidney swallowed, his blush remaining for other reasons, and pulled his hand away, flexing it under the table, “Is Nat short for anything?”
“Natalia.”
“‘S very pretty.” He mumbled, and she smiled sweetly.
“Sidney’s very pretty, too. It suits you.”
Something clenched in his chest.
#sidney crosby x oc#sidney crosby fic#it's never over prologue#nhl fic#nhl series#sidney crosby imagine#sidney crosby oneshot#sidney crosby x reader
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I kinda wanna know about the shared trauma Annabeth and Alabaster both have from Luke and how they deal with it? How does Percy deal with them going completely insane just thinking about it? Does Annabeth ever realize she was used by Luke too (I feel like in a way she was)? I just kind of wanted you to explore this a bit more.
Ohohohoho -> you can hear me wringing my hands and cackling if you squint lol. This is going to get long so buckle up folks, I am breaking out the "•" format again
(CW:suicide mention, it's about Luke's death)
It's very important to start that the love was there. Luke loved them, they were his little siblings. It didn't change anything. It didn't stop the hurt. Perhaps it made it worse. But it's very important that the love was there.
Percabeth didn't talk about Luke after Manhattan, not really. That off-hand comment about his flying shoes in Cotg was the first time either of them mentioned him out-loud.
It's Alabaster coming into their life that opened up that baggage along with several more they were happy to ignore until it eventually burst.
I think it would be good for both of them when they come to the realisation that Luke wasn't evil and he wasn't a can-do-no-wrong-hero either. (He is still the hero of the prophecy of course but yeah, you all get it)
He was just a traumatised kid who grew into a traumatised young adult and caused the deaths and traumas of dozens of other kids whether he wanted to or not.
Just Annabeth realising she was the same age as when Luke took her in when she took the sky from him. Just Annabeth having a talk with Thalia, learning about Halycon Green, and how Luke changed after that, and how he again changed after that visit to May and the confrontation with Hermes. How he seemed to intentionally provoke and go after monsters. Just Annabeth mourning the loss of her dagger and her family. Luke has been dead from the start. Thalia will never be the cool 12 year old that took her under her wing again. Annabeth will out-age and Thalia will out-live both of them.
Just Alabaster realising hey, maybe Luke wasn't this almost god-like being he idolised. That maybe Luke himself didn't believe in half the things he promised. That maybe it shouldn't have been his, a 14 year old's, job to coax out a drunk Luke from the corner of Othrys he backed himself to. That maybe he wasn't wrong to think that he was used as an emotional replacement for Annabeth.
If Alabaster spared a drachma for every time Luke called him Annabeth— well no matter. He was dead now. (He would do anything to hear Luke's voice again, even if that was by being called Annabeth.)
But Luke didn't only hurt them, did he? Like I said he was their big brother. Just the memories of Annabeth staying up full night with Luke, him shielding her from the cold and the harpies as they sat on Thalia's branches. Just Luke protecting Alabaster from bullies who thought picking on the weird scrawny minor god kid no. 1263 would be fun. Luke who saw a little seven year old and took her in, promised family and tried to protect her to his best. Luke who killed himself for her. Luke who tried to maintain the familiy bonds he had with these children that followed him to the Titan army. Luke who tried to keep Alabaster away from Kronos as much as possible, and yet still promoted him to his second in command anyways.
Does that make up for the hurt? Does it matter he loved them if he intentionally or not got them in the middle of the crossfire? That's for Annabaster to decide.
They do miss him though. Once the gates open they can't stop the incoming emotional flood. Sometimes they curse him out, sometimes they cry after him, sometimes they sit in silence of their overwhelming feelings. Sometimes... well, Percy doesn't know, but it's better than Luke being a constant topic of their relationship arguments he guesses.
And it's the way Alabaster still talks like he's trying to imitate Luke: half successful silver tongue, laced with magic and the passion Luke used to have at the very start of the war. It's the way Annabeth paces around like Luke did when he was stressed, all lost in thoughts at picking at her elbows. It's the way all three of them are bone tired, and world weary and if they look at the mirror they just see Luke Luke Luke—
Some nights, when none of them can sleep, under the soft light of the moon and a cozy blanket, with hot drinks in their hands and kisses shared they talk about just how easy it would be to stage Olympus's downfall, how fast, how it would hit them before they can even suspect a thing... All hypothetical certainly, just whispers between lovers.
And Percy. He doesn't even have half the memories his partners have with Luke. But three of what he has stick out the most: Luke teaching him sword-fighting, him siccing a scorpion on little 12 year old Percy with no hesitation and him making him promise to not let things happen this way again as he bled out to death in his lap.
Olympians may have not went through their promise. Percy sure does intend to keep his own one though, gods be damned.
He'll just settle for being there for his partners for however long they grieve, though.
#this is not an anti luke post. i love him. psa end.#pjo#alabaster torrington#annabeth chase#percy jackson#luke castellan#thalia grace#percalabeth#annabaster#percabeth#smartwatermagic#pjo headcanon
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I reallyreally love lottie, I was hoping if you can do cheerleader!lottie dating a basketball!player hcs?:33
A/N: Hi anon! Of course, as usual, I didn't fully read the request before starting and made a start-of-relastionship headcanons... I promise I'll be more attentive next time! As usual, you can make the request again if you want me to re-make this!
Warnings: suggestive, but I cock-blocked you all. Not proofread, grammar errors.
Today is an important day, the last game of the year before the start of the summer vacations.
Of course, everyone in school is here to watch how the match will go, the "Yellowjackets" home team against the "Wolves" enemy team. The rivalry between the two team-schools is decades old, with both teams having won and lost multiple times. This year, will mark the fifth year old win strike of the "Wolves", that is if you don't win, and you very much intend to.
Today is an important day, the last game of the year before the start of the summer vacations.
Of course, everyone in school is here to watch how the match will go, the "Yellowjackets" home team against the "Wolves" enemy team. The rivalry between the two team-schools is decades old, with both teams having won and lost multiple times. This year, will mark the fifth year old win strike of the "Wolves", that is if you don't win, and you very much intend to.
Your team has suffered great losses this year: against the "Bears", against the "Hounds" and the "Hawks", the city's worst team -or at least they were before your loss-. And as if it wasn't bad enough, you lost a pretty important member of the team when she moved schools. So, the "Yellowjackets basketball team" isn't doing great, but you are determined to bring a win home.
The first days of June had proved to be hotter than usual, sunrays are scorching the field but the cool afternoon air is a welcome distraction.
All around you, people are cheering and booing at both teams actions. There is thrash scattered around the edges of the field, flies are buzzing around you and you're sweating under the afternoon sun.
You look around: despite having played again and again, you never really got used to the crowd's attention, and especially not to the cheerleaders team.
You find it especially annoying when they cheer at you, distracting you and making it possible for others to steal the ball. They had improvised a special tune just for you that they sang everytime you score a point: it was making you more flustered than anything.
Today, as per usual, the cheerleader team is here, ready to make you embarrassed again. Your shyness only seems to grow more when Lottie Matthews, the team capitain, cheers at you.
She is tall, very tall -she sholud be the one playing in the basketball team-, her hair is tied in two loose braids and her makeup empasizes her features. She is wearing the usual cheerleader uniform: a pink long sleeved shirt and a skirt of the same colours and she's holding a pair of yellow and blue flacks.
Many have at least a sort of crush for her, and so do you. You've always seen her at pratice, whenever you'd pratice your shots, she and her cheerleader team were at the far edge of the field, trying to remeber all the steps. Many times you've caught her looking at you when you trained; all the times she did she rushed to whisper something in her friend ear, Jackie, and everytime both of them let out small laughs. You always thought they were mocking you, up until today.
You eye her out with interest and she meets your eyes: she looks at you like a siren would, alluring and deadly. She smiles sweely and sends a wink at your direction.
This is the first time she aknowledges your stares and reciprocate. A hot sensation warms your cheeks: Lottie -fucking- Matthews winked at you, at you!
The pure euphoria that wink gave you makes you feel like you could jump to the sky. The rest of the game goes surprisingly well, you even make a winning shot of five points just at the very end, giving your team their earned victory.
Everyone cheered, the Wolves and their fans leaving the court with disgruntled mubles while you were basking in glory.
You feel something nudge your arm lightly and look around your shoulder to see Lottie towering over you with a genunie smile.
"Hi, I saw how you played early... You did a really good job!" her fingers close on your wrist, a gesture too intimate to give to someone you've barley talked to up until now. "You should get a reward." her breath tickles your ear as she whispers to you so no one of the other cheerleaders will hear, but so all of them watch your exchange.
"Say... there's a party friday. Want to keep me company?"; it's hard to ignore her requests while she runs her nails on your arm.
When friday comes, you're beyond nervous. The last hours have been spent discarding and choosing all the different types of clothes. Minutes pass by then, half an hour after the party started, you spot Lottie walking in with her friends. As soon as she spots you Lottie eagerly walks up to you, earning her friend's snickers -mainly Natalie's-.
"You came!" she says while trapping you in a bear-hug. Today she wears a pink fuzzy cardigan and a same coloured skirt. Her hair falls freely to her sides, her lips curl in a grin when she looks at you. "Follow me" she pours a good amout of alchool in your cup then leads you to a couch at the far end of the room, away from prying eyes.
When you sit down, she's starts to ask you every kind fo question, almost as if she wants to study you and when the alchool starts to flow in her system, her hands start to roam on your skin.
Her words slur inside her mouth "That last shoot you did in the game... It looked hard to do. You must be pretty strong huh...?" while she palms at you arm. Lottie's attention starts to slip as she listen to you explaining that -"No, that isn't called a 'last shot' but a 'buzz beater' and I made a 'Slam Dunk', it's pretty hard if you don't know how to make it right 'cause then you could break your hips when you fall down and-"- you feel Lottie's lips on yours.
For a second you can't move your lips back, too shocked by it all, when Lottie's hand cups the back of your neck and deepens the kiss, prompting you to move back. All around you the world swirls in touches, lips against lips, the taste of alchool and heat.
It's almost pathetic the way you cling onto her when she starts to pull away, but you're rewarded with view that many would fight for: Lottie's lips reddened, her cheeks have a deep shade of red, her eyes unfocused and hair messy. "Do you... want to take this somewhere else?
#yellowjackets x reader#yellowjackets x you#lottie matthews x reader#lottie matthews x you#yellowjackets fic#lottie matthews#yj fic
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do the forbidden woods have any connection to the beasts or great ones, aside from being geographically adjacent to byrgenwerth? Are the snake infested fellows just "normal" as far as yharnam is concerned? Like before yharnam got all bloodborney, was the Yharnam Cartographer's Guild map of the woods still just a big circle with SNAKES written?
this is a really good question because, as a lore psycho, i think the understated lore implications of the woods are genuinely fascinating. i think there's a lot to unpeel, even if we take into account that it was one of the places in the game that was chopped up at the 11th hour and scrambled before release.
as always for these lore posts, important nouns are bolded and speculation is in italics. we are going to discuss the woods in three parts: from the gatekeeper to the windmill is "the village". from the windmill to byrgenwerth is "the woods". the subterranean cave shortcut back to yharnam will just be called "shortcut." i'll expand on this shit GREATLY when we reach this part in "you hunted" (I HAVENT STOPPED WORKING ON IT I PROMISE IM JUST SWAMPED) so considered this a light overview. feel free to ask for more details on things and ill do my best to fill in the blanks.
THE VILLAGE:
-from the jump, the village gatekeeper is a fucking weird little blip in bloodborne's narrative. i haven't thought about him enough to figure out if he's more than just a spooky, unexplained element but he has some cut dialog that sheds some mindboggling information about yharnam: he seems very confused about WHEN it is and will cite the last time he had a visitor as anything from a year to a century.
-the lamps in this area lighting the way to the village are little burning fetal beasts of some sort.
i'm starting to understand more and more about how fire operates in the world of bloodborne, since most of the time it appears in the game, it's seemingly impossible. the thing that confused me the most was how old yharnam was still burning if it happened a long time ago. i think it's time to start thinking of the old blood as impossibly combustible and a great source of light/fire. this isn't the first in-universe example of creatures being used as fuel: the lamps in the fishing village are slugs (also infants? they strongly resemble the hunter's appearance as a baby great one in the "childhood's beginning" ending). this is a whole fucking like, thing. it's its own post.
next, the huntsmen enemies here are dressed funny. you probably noticed it but couldn't pin down how. they're dressed in white church clothes! the first model here is used only in the forbidden woods. the two on the left are from central yharnam. note the gloves on the first two; these are church doctors!
(this post goes on like this for some time)
the white church doctors are the ones that were doing "experimentally backed blood ministration". the butcher's garb further defines it as "forbidden research". these white church doctors are the citizens of this "village". in the clustered buildings where the majority of the huntsmen are, you can find blue elixir and beast blood pellets in abundance. both of these items can only be purchased from the store after obtaining the choir's badge, drawing a firm connection between the white church doctor's research and the goals of the choir.
although, this probably isn't too much of a surprise; it's almost certain that this is where fauxsekfa came from. she took the same shortcut we did, right? i'm not really sure i understand the shortcut too much. but let's talk about it.
THE SHORTCUT:
although not explicitly stated, i am strongly convinced that this cave is the entrance to the hintertomb. at the very least, it is absolutely an entrance to the labyrinth. the presence of tomb mold, blood gems, parasite larva, and pthumerian giants/corpses makes this very clear. the root chalice for the hintertomb describes it as "a cesspool of noxious snakes and insects"; i think it's likely that the snakes came from the hintertomb given they can be found in the swamps there.
the giant graves here and further into the woods are referred to as "tombstone[s] of a great one".
the hunter's mark i think would suggest these are pthumerian made. its possible that the hintertomb is spilling out into the world above but frankly all of the graves here are baffling. grave placement and appearance needs more research. the graves in the woods only are developing a strange sort of honeycomb rot pattern not unlike the head of an amygdala. this pattern shows up enough that it warrants more investigation.
the slow poison-inducing "water" here has similar properties to the slow poison pool in the research hall. they are different colors, but have similar origins: the poison pool in the research hall is from the decomposing bodies of the patients, who were exposed to bizarre blood ministration and parasitism. the pool here is likely from decomposing great ones. with this in mind, perhaps the silvery liquid is mercury.
the ladder leading out of this area is fucking insane and i have a hard time understanding what occurred there. like what in the hell is up with that grave you exit into in yharnam. who popped it open. why is it so cavernous. what happened to the contents.
anyway, let's just go back to the woods.
THE VILLAGE (again)
there's really only two more things to mention here before we move on: first, beast roar can be picked up here. it's the undead, still twitching hand of a darkbeast. nothing touched by the old blood can truly die, and these severed limbs are no exception.
second are the butchers. these are the people who collect specimens, hack them apart, and present them to the church doctors for research. they show up in three different ways: the surviving madaras twin wears the butcher's set (the hunter picks up the set from the other twin's corpse), the "executioner" enemies (REMINDER: a better translation would have been "butchers" [or, literally, "dismantling men"], i have no idea why they went with "executioner" outside of their superficial appearance) wear the cape with the popped collar, and there are huntmen enemies skulking the streets below the grand cathedral hunting for victims dressed in the garb. they literally only appear there.
ah, one more thing. this is the place where you can find the suspicious beggar and interrupt him while he's in the middle of chowing down on one of the biggest families i've ever seen in my life. at first i thought the devs hysterically fucked up the sizes of the corpses, but they're dressed like the citizens of yahar'gul. while not outright stated, evidence strongly suggests that the beggar is irreverent izzy or one of his followers such as the close proximity of one of izzy's inventions and the beggar's clothing reflecting his past as both a veteran tomb prospector gone mad and former church agent. there's a lot of meat on that bone, but for another time.
OKAY. LAST PART NOW.
THE WOODS:
this is the part you probably remember the most bc it's snake hell. the first thing we absolutely need to keep in mind is that the snake-infested guys you meet are a reference to doobie from jojo. the snakes are parasites to people, but the snakes themselves are also being parasitized? they are covered in ticks, those are the huge bloated blobs all over them. given that the augurs of the great ones are invertebrates...what does that imply about the inclusion of the ticks narratively?
there's something absolutely fascinating happening to the flora and fauna in this section of the woods but it's hard to know what it all means. some notes:
-when enemies in bloodborne die, the game handles their corpse in different ways. some of this is lore related, some of it is to reduce hardware strain. some corpses turn into ragdolls, some explode into blood, some explode into white particles (sometimes with blood but not always). snakes explode into white particles. i got way too into the fucking weeds with this, but (outside of the slime scholars....kind of) all of these enemies either appear or were intended to appear in the chalice dungeons, the nightmare frontier, or the nightmare of mensis (the lecture hall containing the scholars connects the waking world to the nightmare). all of these locations are, arguably, the nightmare.
-there are statues of amygdala and a presumed evolution of the celestial child sprouting out of the ground. i am almost certain these are original versions of the statues in the grand cathedral and yahar'gul, respectively.
-remember that strange pond with the fireflies? the only place in the game where there's fireflies? what the hell is up with that lol. i kind of have an answer:
most concrete is this: back when the original boss of the woods was snakeball, you would have faced a rematch in this pond.
insane theory crafting moment: look, this is stupid complicated and a reach so if i have to get into really defending it it, ill do it in another post. but in bloodborne people can be teleported around via "communion". communion is the means of entering the chalice dungeons and requires three things: ritual blood (or perhaps just liquid, if rom's arena is anything to go by), something to hold the blood (typically a chalice, but sometimes the "chalice" is a skull), and light (this is almost always achieved with candles). this pond is probably full of blood, if the rotten bodies nearby are any indication, and the fireflies offer light. but, look, this shit was cut so don't think too hard about it.
-its in the art book but also in the game (but hard to see): the wall separating byrgenwerth from the rest of the world is melted.
wait wtf there's dudes in it. lol. what da hell!
oh my. the name for this asset is "wall of divine tomb". cool. every day i lean some new insane shit about this game, for real.
anyway the only other point of interest is whatever the fuck valtr and the league are doing. too deep of a topic for now. anyway, those were the points of interest in the forbidden woods. i hope this was....whatever counts for informative when it comes to video game trivia
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I feel like Bob would be really good at overstimulation because he's so patient. He'd have you naked and in tears, several orgasms deep before he even took his shirt off.
I'm going to pretend @attapullman sent this (but she'd never go nonny about Bob), because I wrote this little ficlet as a birthday treat in response to this sexy thought. Happy birthday, Morgan!
I Need a Minute (Bob Floyd x Reader)
contains smut, fingering, adult language, overstimulation and confident Bob
Your boyfriend was not someone to mess with. You knew that for a fact. Sure, he looked sweet and innocent in his wire rimmed glasses and unassuming shirts, but inside, he was a thinker. A planner. Someone who took all the time necessary to make a decision and formulate a plan. And in your case, he was currently working on exacting his revenge.
Anyone else would have a hard time reading it on his face, but you knew him well enough to notice the soft twitch of his lips and the subtle glances he was sending your way. It was your own fault for the way you teased him at the diner, sliding your hand up inch by inch beneath the napkin that was spread out on his lap until you got to the sweet spot. While you casually talked to all of his aviator friends, you stroked him slowly through his jeans. As you laughed with Mickey and Javy, you gave him a little squeeze just to hear his soft grunt.
When everyone started to stand up, Bob was blushing as he said, "I need a minute." And you left him high and dry, climbing out of the oversized booth and making a mad dash for Natasha's car while Bob tried to hide what you did to him.
As you traipsed across the sandy beach with everyone else, Bob finally reached for your free hand. "Why don't we spread our blanket out over here?" he asked, tugging you to a stop. "The fireworks would be starting up in just a few minutes," he added. "We should get settled in."
He seemed completely calm, so you shook out the beach blanket and curled up with him so you were sitting between his legs. "Are you comfy?" you asked him over your shoulder, and he kissed the tip of your nose, making you smile.
"Very," he promised, and you turned to face the ocean just as the first red, green and orange fireworks lit up the sky. Even though you were wearing his Naval Academy sweatshirt over your sundress, you shivered as he whispered, "I'm about to be a lot more comfortable than you."
"What?" you gasped, realizing that everyone else was sitting in front of you. There was nobody watching as Bob gently pulled your legs further apart and kissed the side of your neck. Nobody noticed a damn thing when he tugged the fabric slowly up your legs and ran his thumb along your underwear, sending you scooting back against him. "What are you doing?" you whined softly, giving yourself away.
His fingers paused on the thin strip of cotton hiding your pussy from him. "Oh. You want this, huh?" When you nodded, dazed eyes focused on the fireworks, he kissed your earlobe. "You say that now."
One long finger slipped inside the elastic band of your underwear, and you gasped his name. Bob let his digit glide slowly up and down your slit while he made casually offhand comments like, "The green fireworks are my favorite. Did you know they are made out of barium salts?" Your only response was to moan a little louder, and he didn't stop you. The loud booming sounds blocked out your whines and breathy gasps as he slipped that finger inside you, lazily fucking you with it while his thumb found you clit.
He punctuated every thrust with a little swirl of his thumb, varying the speed as he went. You tried desperately to fuck yourself on that long finger, but he held you in place with his other hand. You were playing his little game now, and you knew it would be a little while before you came.
His lips worked at your neck until you could feel a bruise forming. His teeth grazed your skin softly when you started to hiccup. You found out the hard way that the city of San Diego put on a glamorous thirty minute fireworks display for holidays, and Bob teased you for twenty-eight of them. Your breathing was so loud as he pumped his hand beneath your dress and whispered, "You want to come, don't you? You want to soak my hand even more, huh?"
"Bob!" you begged loud enough that one of the others must have heard, but Bob just kept slowing his pace until you felt tears in your eyes. Your makeup was probably a mess. Sweat broke out on your brow. But he just slowed down until he was gently tapping your pussy with his fingers.
"Ask me really nicely."
"Please, Bob!" Your voice broke on the words as he rammed two fingers deep inside you and stroked your clit with his thumb. The grand finale of fireworks blasted across the sky as you finally came, eyes closed and back arched. You didn't care who saw you like this as long as you got the relief you needed.
He kissed that tender spot behind your ear and whispered, "You're lucky I'm so nice," as you rolled your hips against the heel of his hand. And then he was slipping it back out of your panties and tugging your dress into place as everyone around you started to collect their things. When he stood up and looked down at you, he smirked as you sprawled out on your back, your limbs completely boneless. "You ready to go?" he asked with his hands on his hips.
"I need a minute."
#if you ask emily#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd smut#bob fucks#bob x reader#robert floyd x reader#robert floyd imagine#robert floyd x you#bob floyd fic#bob floyd fanfiction#top gun maverick imagine#robert bob floyd x reader
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Good People (Platonic)
Summary: While in the Wasteland, running on nothing but fumes and even less hope, you meet someone. Someone who might just be the one thing you need in a place like this: a friend.
Note: This is shorter than my usual stuff (both in terms of words, probably, and also just in terms of content - more so a scene than anything else; maybe a series of short scenes showing Lucy's arc if you guys want and how her friendship with Y/N develops?) Let me know in an ask!
You were a survivor. You had been since the moment you were born, but you weren't sure how much longer that was going to last.
Your day hadn't started off good, you see. You were running out of water and had passed out earlier due to some kind of infection - no idea what it was or who/what it was from, you had come across a lot of beings and things in your travels - and some guy had thought you were dead and even pissed on you just in case. Was not refreshing, or nice.
You had fought him off, tackling him to the floor and punching him quite a few times. You didn't kill him, however. You just left him be after that.
An odd fellow with a briefcase who promise you everything you could ever want passed you by. He gave you something that gave you a boost. You had no caps, so the only piece of fluid you had left on you - your water container - was given to him in exchange for this item.
So, now you were even more screwed then before.
The man even seemed to somewhat pity you, but he still left.
You find an abandoned bus. It's been picked, recently or otherwise doesn't really matter, picked clean is picked clean. Or, well, as clean as you can get within the apocalypse.
"Hello?" a voice says. You spin around, reaching for a weapon you don't have as you lost it in the scuffle before, and so instead duck down - hitting your head on one of the seats.
You hear the person outside cringe.
"Sorry," she says, earnestly to your shock, "that sounded like it hurt."
"...It did," you find yourself saying in reply, but still keep your head done.
"Sorry," she says, again, "it's ok," she assures you, "I won't hurt you. I promise."
You peak your head up. The first thing you notice, is how clean she looks. She gives you a bright smile.
"Hi," she says, enthusiastically.
You just blink at her.
"It's ok," she assures again, "my weapon is away. I just - I just wanna talk. I'm a bit lost out here give, you know, everything is mainly just sand."
You guess that's fair. So, against your better judgment, you make your way to the stairs at the bus, and sit down. The woman sits down, letting out a sigh, glad to be able to rest for a moment.
She stretches. You adjust your neck. You must've slept funny.
"I'm Lucy," she says, holding out a hand to you.
"Y/N," you say, shaking her hand. Feels weird, being this open with someone.
"Y/N," she says, "that's a nice name. I never knew someone called Y/N before."
You're about to ask her why, when you see what she's wearing.
You whistle, or as best you can with a dry throat, it's croaky but the idea comes through, "you one of them Vault Dwellers?"
"I am," she says, and you're unsure if it's a proud statement or not, "but, I do also recognise my privilege for being one."
You hum, "how you finding up here?"
"Hot," she says, "we have air conditioning in the vaults. So, it's weird not being able to just turn down the temperature."
You chuckle. She smiles.
"Thank you for not trying to kill me."
You gesture to yourself, "don't exactly have anything to do that with, you know? Besides, you're not a bad person. I've met some bad people, you ain't one of them."
"Thank you. I knew there were good people out here."
You shrug, "I don't think I'm exactly 'good', but I've known worse."
"Well, I'm glad I've run into you. You're alot nicer than the previous man I met."
"Yeah, there'll be people like that..." you pause, then ask the question on your mind, "what brings you top side, Lucy?"
"Oh," there's a hint of hope, mixed with sadness in her eyes while she answers, "I'm looking for my dad. Some horrible woman called Moldaver took him. She steals dads."
You may internally find that last part funny, but you find yourself saying 'I'm sorry' to her about her plight. She thanks you once again.
"You're not crazy like that other man."
She's blunt, you'll give her that.
"I can be," you don't quite know why you're insulted by it.
She cocks her head to the side, "I'm good at reading people," you aren’t sure on that one, but you don't say anything, "and you're not like that previous man."
"What'd he do?"
"Drank most of my water. You ever met anyone like that?"
"Guy pissed on me this morning. Another stole my canteen."
"Oh..." Lucy says. You nod, expecting this to be the end of your conversion, but then she reaches behind herself for something. Instinct makes you freeze, but she just gives you a reassuring smile once again, and holds something out to you.
Her own canteen.
You look at her, doubt, confusion, and thanks all in your eyes at once.
"Take it," she insists, shaking it a little to tell you that there is still water inside it, "I mean it."
"But, that other man --"
"He's greedy. You aren't. And, judging by your lips, rough voice, inability to whistle, and slight grovel to your voice, and the way you hold yourself," perceptive too, "you need this more than I do."
"You sure?" she nods. Hesitantly, looking from her to the canteen as you reach out - her leaning forward to help you with your lack of energy due to dehydration and all - you grab it. It's not harsh, you don't rip it out of her grasp. Your actions are slow, deliberate.
You open it, and lift it up to your mouth, letting a few water droplets hit it.
You close it and give it back to her. But she pushes it to you again. This goes on a few more times.
"I meant what I said," she says, "take it."
You look around at the desert, "next water well won't be for a while."
She shrugs, "there's a town nearby. There should be some there. But, either way, you need this a lot more than I do."
You drink the rest of it. And, you feel ok. Not great, but better.
You cough a bit. Both due to whatever illness you have, and just from the water and how fast you drank it.
"That's a bad cough," she notes, taking the canteen back.
"Ah, it's nothing," you say, waving her off. Had worse infections.
You stand up, and she holds her hands out in case you fall. You put a hand up, telling her you're ok.
"Well," you say, "thank you for that, and the talk. Good people are few and far between. Best of luck --"
"Hey, wait!" she calls out as you start to walk away, "wait, please. Maybe - maybe you can help me."
"I ain't exactly much help given the lack of weapons, strength, and my illness."
She frowns, "well, once we find my dad, we can go back to my vault, we have doctors there who can help you and give you a good meal!"
She's preppy, but soon that softens in her eyes, "please...I can stop people from...urinating on you."
You snort at her disgust of the language. She has a lot to learn. Social ettiquite may exist in some places in the wasteland, but not everywhere.
"Well, when you put it like that..." you say, before smiling. She beams at you.
"Okey Dokey!" she exclaims.
"Okey Dokey!" you find yourself saying in kind, not mocking for once - you and your mouth had gotten you into trouble before, it was nice to not have some agenda with it this time. To let your guard down.
"Have you ever been to Filly before?" she asks you as you walk side by side. Though, she slows up a bit as you try and both get your strength back and keep your remaining bit.
"Once or twice when passing through," you say.
"Alrighty then," she says, glad to not be going in completely blind, "'this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.'" she says to you, clearly quoting something, based on her voice. You look at her confused.
"I'll show you the film when we're back at the vault," she says, before you continue on your way.
It's good to meet someone who didn't want to kill you on sight or extort you or something.
It was nice to not be alone anymore.
Lucy feels the same way. She has a sort of guide now. A friend.
An actual friend from the outside.
She's glad.
And, little did she know how right she'd be. It would be a friendship that would stand the test of time and everything in between.
Lucy had just met her best friend.
You had met yours.
Even if you both didn't know just how dark and dangerous the road ahead would get...
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Why is the Question
A.N: Illusions to Malleus Dorm Uniform card, so if you haven't read that vignette, this story may not make sense. I loved that vignette; this is my TWST OC Mia with Malleus after the fact.
Twisted Wonderland Masterlist
—————————————————-
There was no other word for it.
Malleus was pouting as far as Mia was concerned. He barely said two words since the Gargoyle Research Society meeting started. Which didn’t bother her any, as sometimes they would sit in companionable silence and observe the gargoyles together. At Ramshackle dorm, tea would often accompany them.
There was no tea today.
But the key word was companionable silence.
This wasn’t companionable, as Malleus’ brain was obviously not on the beauty of the Ramshackle gargoyles this evening.
It wasn’t hard to figure out why Malleus’ attention was elsewhere.
By now, all of Night Raven College knew about the stunt that the Diasomnia Housewarden had pulled during the previous Housewarden meeting. How could they not when most of the Dorm Leaders had returned to their dorms in a rage?
Mia simply continued to sketch in her sketchbook. She had already asked if he was alright, and he reassured her before returning inward. She thought, perhaps, he found it a private matter to deal with.
That’s fine, he knew where to find her.
Eventually, Malleus heaved a sigh and murmured, “No matter how many times I try to go over it in my mind, I simply cannot understand what went wrong.”
Mia decided to take this cue since he voiced it outloud and spoke lightly, “Oh, anything I can help with?”
Malleus blinked and started. Slowly he turned and looked at her as if seeing her for the first time.
Mia continued her sketching.
“Ah, Child of Man!! Yes, you are a child of man. Perhaps you would assist me in a matter?”
Mia only chuckled, “You don’t have to be so formal, what’s up?”
Malleus started, “Well, you see, it’s like this….”
Ten minutes later, after Malleus explained the event in great detail, including everyone’s reaction, he was stunned to see a twitch of Mia’s lips. Much like Lilia, she could no longer hold it back and burst out laughing, slamming her sketchbook close.
Malleus felt a flash of annoyance at this.
Exactly what was so funny about this?! Was he being made a fool of?
Mia waved her hand, “I’m sorry! I promise, I’m not laughing at you but hearing a 1st hand account of the event, I mean…”
“Yes, yes. Very amusing, child of man.”
Mia managed to contain her mirth, although her eyes still danced. Perhaps it was wise to settle down a little. She could tell that Malleus was beginning to lose his patience the longer he looked at her. She did not want an angry fae on her hands.
“Malleus, I….” pause.
“....”
“.....”
Sigh. “There is so much to unpack, I can’t do it in the next five minutes.”
“I have the time.”
“Yeah, not right now. Listen, let me think about this a little more. This is gonna require a Powerpoint presentation with graphs and everything.”
Malleus blinked, “Does it really warrant that?” Just how big was this matter that he couldn’t seem to get a grasp of?
Mia giggled, “Oh, yeah…..”
“Then can you, at least, explain why do you keep laughing? What exactly is so humorous?”
Mia took pity on Malleus who looked so earnest, “Personally, I find it quite charming.”
Malleus’ eyebrow shot up, “Charming?”
“It’s charming and sad at the same time. I have to say, you get an A+ for effort. Using what knowledge you had, you came up with some kind of solution. Didn’t work, but you took some initiative. That should be applauded.”
Malleus pouted, “Would that others saw it that way….”
“Ah, well, I do have an edge over them.” Mia shrugged.
Malleus looked at Mia and raised an eyebrow when she didn’t elaborate any further.
Mia glanced away once, “Well, I’d like to think I know you a shade bit better than the others. I know that it came from a good place in your heart, and you didn’t mean to hurt, insult or scare them. Just you and the other’s wires got crossed. However, if I didn’t know you as much as I do, I would probably be insulted as well. ”
Malleus heaved a sigh, “You as well? This is troubling indeed. This has made me even more aware of the differences between fae and human, but I do want to make some kind of effort. I’m just not sure where to go from here.”
“Well, for starters, you need to go to the next meeting.”
Malleus folded his arms, “I cannot if I’m not invited.”
Mia growled, “You got an invitation the moment you became dorm leader. Even if they are angry, no one will find you rude if you show up. You have just as much right as a dorm leader to be there as them. They don’t like it, their problem. That’s #1. And #2 when you get there the first thing you should do is apologize.”
Malleus whipped his head towards Mia, with wide eyes.
Before he could protest, Mia spoke up, “It’s really to just smooth things over. I know you feel you don’t have anything to apologize for, and you don’t understand, but that doesn’t matter. They felt insulted, therefore you are apologizing for insulting them even amidst your good intentions. And Malleus, don’t be condescending about it. That will only make them angrier.”
Malleus heaved another sigh, “It seems human etiquette is so intricate. I fear I am bound to mess this up, no matter what I say or attempt to do.”
“Don’t worry about it! We can practice if you like.”
Malleus smiled at her, “I’d be much obliged.”
“.....After I try to make sense of this faux paux you have committed….”
Although Mia was shaking her head at him, Malleus could still see the mirth in her eyes. Perhaps if this child of man didn't think he was that much of a lost cause, perhaps he could see this through.
“I will look forward to your teaching then.”
Two days later, Mia had invited Malleus into Ramshackle Dorm. Malleus was surprised to see a huge paper sitting on an easel. True, to her word, Mia tried her hardest to explain why everyone was angry. Although Malleus didn’t quite get it, he learned that understanding that he offended was much more valuable than the why.
In fact, Mia quickly shut down his constant question of why.
“Just as fae has things that are a fact for them, so too, do humans. You don’t have to understand why, you just need to learn and memorize a loose script and accept it as fact. The way you understand is to learn and accept the boundaries. And if you don’t know, ask someone. Between Lilia, Sebek and Silver surely you can get some kind of answer. If not, come ask me. And if I don’t know, ask one of the teachers or Headmage. I’m sure between all of that, we can find some kind of actionable answer.”
It seemed he had a long way to go, but perhaps if he could start by learning from this child of man, who seemed willing to take time out of her day to teach him.
Ah, he would have to properly show her his gratitude for this evening.
#twst#twst fanfiction#twst fanfic#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland fanfic#twisted wonderland fanfiction#malleus draconia#twst oc#disney twst#disney twisted wonderland#diasomnia
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so, nerdy loser college boy choso *sighs* *opens legs*
a/n: just so you know, this man is gonna make you do all the hard work for a piece of that loser boy dick 😮💨 so... um so at some point around 2000 words in i realised this is way more than a hc post :3 eat it up if you will!
nerdy!choso who borderline has no friends except his gaming buddies who doesnt meet irl like ever. he doesnt like going to classes, especially this one. he doesnt need it but it's a requirement for all first years. and boy is glad it is when he sees you come in.
nerdy!choso who only listens to discussions when you're talking. suddenly he needs to put down his headphones and nod at every word you're saying. his eyes follow every gesture of your hand, every sway of your ass, every single time you fix your hair.
nerdy!choso who is starting to get a bit enamored with you, your style, your way of speaking. he loses track of time gawking at you in class from the last benches as you prettily do all the work in the class. he hates how beautifully your hair falls on your face, how nicely your clothes fit you despite being pretty modest for college. he hates how he can see the silhouette of your tits when you turn to the side. but he's too much of a gentleman to keep looking.
nerdy!choso who ends a game early when he remembers you, lying and saying that he had promised someone to meet them somewhere. the place is his bathroom and the person was you. god, you really shouldn't wear those tight jeans to class y'know? how will he continue to be a gentleman if you do?
nerdy!choso who despises groupwork but prays to dear god this class has some reason to pair you two together. he's getting so desperate to talk to you knowing damn well he too pussy to do it on his own. and the lord answers his prayers, the teacher assigns groups of three for a presentation. it's you, him and some slacking trust fund baby.
nerdy!choso who is about to combust and have a full blown panic attack when he sees you approach him after class with that smile on your face that would make the angels swoon. you're going on about distributing the work equally and what not while he is trying his fucking hardest to not accidently make eye contact with you and piss his pants : (
nerdy!choso who now has your name, your number and your email and he feels like the happiest man on earth. his hands are literally shaking as he responds to your request to call. he's overthinking every word he types.
choso: yeah i can do wednesday.
choso: i'll be okay with whatever day you want.
nerdy!choso who hops on video call and short circuits with a view of you in an oversized band tee and a brief view of your room. why did you have to be this pretty? why did you have to video call him when you couldve done the work on text? why did you have to put your hair up like that? why oh why did you have you say "choso? hey, you there?" so seductively to bring him back to the present?
nerdy!choso who gets like no work done in a 30 minute call which felt like three hours. he knew he would hardly be paying attention so decided to record the call with your consent, saying he'd need the notes you were typing out on screen only to play it back and stroke his dick to you for what might've have been the twentieth time this week. his strokes only getting faster as you say his name in that voice he imagines sounds way better moaning and screaming it instead.
nerdy!choso who, after the presentation, is on greeting terms with you when he sees you studying in the library. he sits as far away from you as he can while still being able to see you. occupying the coziest corner of the library to stare at you study right when you come up to him.
"can i join you, choso? i'm all alone and your space seems comfy" you say with a smile, "of course, i dont mean to disturb you, is saw you were on your own too, so..."
uh oh, uh oh, uh oh. god no. please no. please dont say yes. please dont be staring at her like some dumb idiot (too late) please.
"uh... yeah sure why not?" he awkwardly says as he makes room for you to keep your things. he was such an idiot for thinking he could say no to your pretty face in the first place.
nerdy!choso who is absolutely drunk on your scent. it feels way better than any alcohol he's ever had. he feels like an animal in heat when he smells your sugary perfume mixed with the styrofoam-y air conditioned smell of the library. you're gonna kill him, yknow? how is he supposed to respond to this? what is one to do when their stupid college crush sits next to them? he gives you a half smile before furiously typing away on reddit, the only place with answers for losers like him.
nerdy!choso whose hands. oh his hands. (can be i a big whore for a second?) his long hands that feel like they're the size of your face. his kempt, beautiful and trimmed nails. his lengthy fingers that seem to yearn for something more to foddle with than just the keyboard or controller. he typed as such an insane pace it made your pussy ache. he was going so fast, jesus. those hands were meant to do more than just ask "how to talk to girls" on reddit.
nerdy!choso who (on the advice of reddit) asks if you would want him to order something for you. you tell you had a frappuccino not too long ago and that it was quite sweet and filling. and he hates himself for thinking that he could give you something much sweeter and filling than that like a horny fourteen year old.
nerdy!choso who is now determined to not come off as a creep so he does his work with the focus of four adderalls. he is typing as fast as his heartbeat, not realising he got two classes worth of work done in just an hour. he looks over at you, blissfully unaware of the absolute war in his mind.
nerdy!choso who feels as though if he doesn't muster up the courage to ask you out right then and there, he'll probably be the biggest loser on the planet. (as if he wasn't already)
nerdy! pathetic! choso who stutters a million times and barely gets the job done then too. his eyes are scanning your entire being (trying his best to not gawk at your tits) for any sign of discomfort.
"so- uhh so ummm... wo-would you, like, uh... like to do this again? sometime?... i got a.. a lot of work done today, so.."
oh heavens, the sheer nervousness in his tone makes you want to pull his pants down and show him how to really get work done.
you agree with a smile, even suggesting a better, more ambient (more romantic) cafe to study in. choso's heart is about to burst and flood the fucking library with his blood the way it is beating at an alarming rate.
"umm yeah uh 5 sounds... awesome... i hope it isn't a-a bother to you?"
"no way, choso. i loved today," you offer him a smile as you gather your things, "i really like your hair, by the way"
"i like your hair too, y-y-you smell very nice", he gulps.
fuck. why did he say that? what? you smell nice? who says that? is he like ten? you can't help but giggle at the sheer embarassment on his face.
he feels as though he's gonna melt into a puddle and turn to stone and throw up all at the same time.
nerdy!choso who is the most stupidly hot guy you've ever met, you think as you go giggling back to your dorm. mental note: pick a skimpy outfit for 5pm ;)
#aniya writes ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა#my head would be in my hands#if they weren't already occupied#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso jjk#choso jujutsu kaisen#choso#kamo choso#choso kamo#choso x reader#jjk choso#choso smut#choso x you#choso my beloved#choso x y/n#choso x female reader#jjk ^ ~#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#jjk drabbles#jjk x poc!reader#choso kamo x reader
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