#my personal view is that they were amused at first and maybe still are to some extent | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crazychaoticizzy · 6 months

Text

Heart Stopping

Armin X Reader

You and Armin kiss in his car

WARNINGS: literally just fluff because I’m so emotionally damaged and need to heal, mini car make out

Word Count: 1.8k

Masterlists

AOT Masterlist

The worn seats were clear evidence of how much Armin used his car, whether it be with his friends or just on a drive around town to clear his head.

You had been in his car many times, the first being during tenth grade when your parents were out of town for a week and you had no way to get home. You had driven with your parents that morning before they left, but had failed to organize plans for someone to take you back.

Armin had been there, outside the school when he approached you and asked if you needed a ride.

In retrospect, maybe accepting a random student’s offer of getting in their car wasn’t the brightest idea. But you had spoken to Armin a couple times before that and decided you liked him, and that he was someone you could trust.

So you gratefully accepted his offer. And since that day, you’ve rode with him in his car more times than you’ve even been in your own, traveling with him out of town to stargaze on his birthday.

But you could care less about the car or the view or the picturesque painting your surroundings made. You’d spent the last two and a half hours staring at Armin instead of looking out at the stars, watching his lips move when he talked and the way his eyes moved to look at you when he asked a question.

He softly smiled after you didn’t respond for a moment, and he assumed you didn’t hear him. To be fair, though, how could you when you were so enamored by the person you considered your best friend?

“Y/n,” he says again. He chuckled when you absentmindedly hum, his lips curving up into the smile you absolutely adored.

He doesn’t speak for a few seconds, waiting until you seem to finally process that he’s talking to you. You blink a few times, sitting straighter when you finally come out of your head.

“Sorry, what did you ask?”

“Just wondering if you’re cold. The temperature’s starting to drop and now it is”—he glances at his watch—“forty-eight degrees. I can close the windows and turn on the heater if you want.”

You shake your head, even though now that he had mentioned it you could feel the cold nip in the air. Even though you’re a bit chilly now you want to keep the windows open, because every now and then a gentle breeze would come through and blow strands of hair into Armin’s eyes, forcing him to brush them back.

He sees your hand moving in his peripheral vision and glances down, watching you fidget with the blue scrunchie wrapped around the gear shift. It was something he kept there for you, something you could use to tie your hair out of your face if you wanted. He noticed the goosebumps running along your arm, and moved his left hand so he could roll the windows up, using his other to turn the knob on the control center closer to red.

“I said I was fine,” you commented, moving to roll the window back down.

Armin clicked a button on his side, making it so whenever you pressed on the notch the window wouldn’t open.

“Your hair’s standing to the mountains, so I rolled up the windows.”

Your brows furrowed at his wording, trying to figure out what he meant.

“My . . . What?”

“Your arms. They’re bumpy ‘cause you’re cold, right?”

You blinked at him, still trying to figure out what he had said until you make an O shape with your mouth. “You mean goosebumps?”

Armin stared at you for a moment. You could see the gears in his head turning as he thought before he nodded and let out an amused breath. “Yeah. Sorry, that’s what I meant.”

“It’s okay.” Armin turned his head to look out the window, and you took it as an opportunity to lean over the center console and admire him.

It’s another moment before he turns back. You smile, staying in the same position. He had gotten used to this, because you were always shamelessly looking at him.

“Sorry if this is boring,” he said. He adjusted his seat so he could stretch his legs. “I really just wanted to spend time with you.”

“It’s not boring,” you say. “I like it. It’s nice up here.”

His lips curve up, and for some reason it makes you want to lean forward and kiss him.

You’d found yourself thinking of doing that a lot lately, but you never allowed the thought to become more than that. You never even allowed yourself to think about it too long, because you fears you would fall deeper into these feelings you found yourself having.

But, it was his birthday. And to your knowledge, he hadn’t done anything with anyone else. That had to count for something, right?

But on the other hand, you weren’t even sure if you were meant to be the only one here. He might have invited others, but they were all busy. How can you really be sure?

“What’re you thinking about?” he softly asks. You don’t know when, but he had reclined the seat back.

You shake your head, opening your mouth to say nothing, but Armin raises his eyebrows in suspicion. You can’t help but think that he looks so pretty laying back, not bothered by anything at the moment.

“Just wondering how to tell if someone likes you,” you say, and then you realize that in the entire time you’ve known Armin you’ve never had a crush on anyone except him. You hadn’t even told him in passing that you think someone is cute or attractive. It would have been fine if you just left it, but you felt the need to clarify why you were thinking about that. “I’m writing something. It’s like, a thing for my friend. Because Christmas is . . . soon.”

There was no way he bought your bullshit, that much was evident with the way he furrowed his brows and sat back up.

“You’re writing something for your friend for Christmas?” You nodded. “Which is a month away?”

“Gotta start early,” you said, pressing your lips together and nodding as if to reassure yourself.

Armin chuckles, leaning against the center console. “You’re writing something.” You nodded for clarification, except suddenly your grades in English and Writing all throughout school came back to you. Not to mention your constant complaining about hating to write. And Armin knew you were remembering that, because he tilted his head ever so slightly.

“So what is it really?”

You paused, chewing the inside of your cheek as you thought up another lie you might be able to tell. But your mind drew a blank, and you couldn’t think of anything except the incessant tell him going through your head.

“Just wondering how to tell if someone likes you,” you repeated, hoping that would be enough and he would stop asking.

“Why?”

“I’m just curious,” you said, playfully rolling your eyes. “I dunno, just something I’ve been thinking about lately.”

Armin hummed, leaning back in his seat. He but his cheek, thinking. “Well, if it were me, I would probably want to hang out with them all the time.”

You nod, staring off into space as your mind slowly processes his words and puts them into real world scenarios. He kept listing things, but you didn’t fully grasp everything he said, only grabbing at short snippets and attempting to fit them together.

“. . . I dunno, something like offer to take her home one day out of the blue when I notice she’d been standing there for almost an hour . . .”

Your head snaps in his direction, jaw slightly dropped. You watch the soft smile form on his face. God it really makes you want to grab him by the collar and kiss him. Just to show him that you aren’t fucking around about this.

It’s silent for a moment as you just stare at each other. You can hear the wind against the car and the faint chirping of crickets in the silence.

You close your mouth. You don’t miss the way Armin’s gaze moves to your neck as you swallow before his eyes meet yours again.

“Can I try something?” you ask. It comes out quieter than you expected.

Armin nods, sitting up and leaning against the center console. Your faces are closer together now—not anywhere close to kiss with one short movement, but close enough that you share the same breath.

“Anything.” Your gaze moved between his lips and his eyes before you finally move, gently grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him toward you.

His lips are soft against yours. Smooth with remnants of whatever cherry flavored chapstick you had put on him earlier. Now you’re wishing you hadn’t done that, because you want to taste him just the way he is.

Armin’s breath hitches. He doesn’t return the kiss for a split second before he closed his eyes and presses his lips against yours as well.

Something beeps. It’s a loud noise that startled you away from the kiss, following Armin’s gaze as he looks down at his watch.

Abnormal heart rate detected, the notification says. You grin as Armin’s cheeks turn red. He brings up a hand to run it down the bottom half of his face in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” he whispered. His eyes flicked back to you, watching for any sign that said you wanted to continue whatever had happened.

You shook your head, soft smile still present on your face. “No, it’s cute.”

You see his eyes crinkle before he pulls his hand away, revealing his shy smile. “So did you find out of that guy likes you back?”

You nod. “I think he does.”

Armin’s smile grows, his eyes lighting up as you lean in more. “Good.”

You press your lips against his again. This time, Armin isn’t as hesitant with his hands and rests his hand at the nape of your neck. You lean forward, slightly pushing him back into his seat.

His watch beeps with another health notification, and he stops kissing you again. He pressed his lips into a line as he begins undoing the strap, slipping the watch off his wrist and carefully tossing it into the back seat.

You softly chuckle as he pulls you back into another, helping you maneuver in the car so you end up in the same seat as him.

Nothing has ever felt as good as when he puts his hands on you, one holding you by the waist and the other just below your shoulder blade. You don’t think there will ever be anything like the moment Armin kept kissing you under the stars.

TAGGING: if you’d like to be tagged whenever I write for Armin comment or DM to let me know!

#izzy’s imagines ❀#aot #attack on titan #armin arlert #aot armin #armin x reader #armin aot #armin attack on titan #armin arlert x reader #armin fluff #snk #snk armin #shingeki no kyojin #snk x reader #aot x reader #aot x reader fluff #armin x reader fluff

625 notes · View notes

personasintro · 7 months

Text

Mutual Help | #29

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.4k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

"Come on, Y/N," Jungkook chuckles, nose scrunched at the distress on your face as soon as you step out of the car and meet his very amused expression. "They're just my parents, nothing to be stressed about."

Rolling your eyes, his words bring no comfort to you whatsoever and it's noticeable on your face. "Yeah, exactly. They haven't seen me for-- fuck, I can't even remember the last time I've seen them." you gasp.

What if they don't want you here? You're coming with their son to visit them, you're practically a stranger to them. No matter how much welcomed they made you feel when you first visited. But it was for three hours, not for the weekend. It doesn't matter how many times Jungkook assured you on your way to Busan, that his parents know you're coming and they're excited to see you again, you feel like you're about to meet your parents-in-law (which is ridiculous). This is your best friend's parents whom you met already. You just worry you'll be a burden to them, even though you know they're lovely people.

"Two years ago," Jungkook responds, "The first time you came with me to Busan and visited them."

You're so annoyed how careless he's taking this, which of course he does, these are his parents he can't wait to see and unfortunately don't get to see that often. You know he usually calls his mom almost every day and they even video chat together throughout the week. Still, you hate how you're the only person feeling uneasy.

"Fuck," you breathe out, "It's been that long?" you whine, ready to smack your face into the palms of your hands but before you can do that, Jungkook stops you and grabs your shoulders.

"For starters, stop swearing," he advises, causing you to gulp as you obediently nod. Shit, you hope you won't swear in front of them. Sometimes you can't control it, maybe that's why Jungkook is warning you in front of their house. "And stop, my parents like you. Jungwon too."

"Jungwon?"

Your eyes widen at the mention of Jungkook's older brother. You got the chance to meet him and hang out with him, with Jungkook of course, a couple of times when he was visiting Seoul or you went to Busan with Jungkook. It's safe to say his older brother has his own charms, just like it runs in the family, which explains the little crush you had on him when you were eighteen. You were at that age when not many guys looked attractive enough for you but Jungwon, that was a whole nother story. Surprisingly, Jungkook resembles his father a lot. He's a spitting image of him with a tiny mixture of features that he got from his mother. However, Jungwon resembles Mrs. Jeon.

"Yeah, he's coming too." Jungkook tells you, shrugging and your jaw drops ready to scold him that he missed this tiny fact and hadn't told you. Something tells you he purposely left that fact out, already sensing your uncertainty when it came closer to the weekend.

Before a swear word can leave your mouth (because you're just like that and that's exactly why Jungkook alerted you to not swear), the front door of Jeon's house is pushed open before a cheerful voice carries itself onto the street.

"Jungkookie!"

There is no mistake the voice belongs to Jungkook's mother, the same sweet and melodic voice you got to hear personally two years ago, or whenever Jungkook calls with her and you just happen to be there.

Jungkook turns to you, giving you a perfect view of his little scrunched nose from the nickname his mother calls him, growing embarrassed but you see the warmth spreading on his lips and in his eyes at the sight of his mother. He doesn't hesitate, calling out to her before they both meet in a loving hug.

"Were you waiting by the door?" Jungkook teases her, obviously knowing how excited she's been to finally see her son after a couple of months of not seeing him personally. Video and voice calls only do so little.

"No, I just walked past the window a few times until I saw your car parking in front of the house," she tells him, causing the two of them to laugh and to be fair, it makes you smile in amusement because there's obviously so much excitement evident on her face.

"Y/N, sweetheart! Don't just stand there, come here so I can give you a hug too!" she calls out to you, hands already waving you over as you smile and make your way to the both of them.

You barely get to greet her properly before you're being crushed in a hug, her arms tightly wrapped around your frame while she pats your back a couple of times. Or more like smacks which makes you choke, earning an amused chuckle from Jungkook beside you who simply just pats his mother's shoulder.

"Don't choke her, mom. I kinda need her." he says jokingly, causing you to snort and if his mom wasn't here, you would give him a proper smack.

Listening to her son, she lets you go but still lets her hands graze over your forearm as she stares at you with wide and happy eyes. She looks good, almost too good for a woman of her age. By that you don't mean that she's old, but she looks way younger than a woman who has two adult sons. There are a few wrinkles adoring her face, mainly beside her eyes and mouth mostly caused by her smiling rather than her being in her late forties. But she looks just the same since you last saw her, even better.

"It's so good to see you, Mrs. Jeon." you grin, giving her a slight bow which she just waves off as if there's no reason for you to do that.

She's always been more friendly, rather than formal and strict. Maybe that's why Jungkook is such a lovely human being, raised by two people who gave him and his brother nothing but love and support. Just her sweet greeting and personality is enough to ease your nerves, and your past doubts about coming here are wiped away.

"It's good to see you too, sweetheart! I wish you both would visit more often," she says, giving a teasing grin to her son.

She's aware that her son doesn't exactly live close enough to visit every day, and he has a job and his own life to take care of now. As much as he's busy and not able to visit how he would love to, he's trying to keep in touch with his parents and family as much as he can. Being friends with Jungkook made you realize and notice that he's a family guy and knowing his family you know the reason behind that is the constant love he's receiving from them. It's understandable and even though Jungkook can be quiet to himself and much reserved, he's a caring friend who loves his family and friends.

"Come inside! Your father will come home later, he's still working!" she says, ushering the two of you to get your stuff from the truck as she's already opening the front door.

Their house, the one where Jungkook grew up, is the same just like you remember when you last visited. Sure, there are a couple of changes with the decorations such as different plants or pictures hanging on the wall, but other than that, it still carries that sweet vanilla and cinnamon scent and looks just the same. When you look at Jungkook who puts down his and your travel bags, you notice the fond smile he has as he looks around. Maybe this is what he needed, to get out of Seoul and come to different thoughts. It's surely better than getting drunk with his friends, now that you think of it.

You're so overwhelmed with everything — even though there's not that much going on — except you're about to spend the weekend at Jungkook's childhood house, you're oblivious to another presence in the house until you make your way into the living room.

"Look who decided to show up!"

Your eyes widen, the look of shock quickly wiped off as soon as Jungwon stands up from the couch and greets you both with a wide grin. He's outstretching his arms, already walking towards Jungkook who seems to mimic his grin before they hug into another warm hug.

Jungwon looks slightly different than you remember him, although he remains to look just the same at the same time. It's hard to describe, but the few points you manage to make before his face is hidden in Jungkook's shoulder, he looks slightly bigger and bulky than you remember him. His hair is short, shorter than Jungkook's right now and now that they're standing beside each other, you notice that Jungkook is slightly taller than Jungwon.

"Look at his hair, oh my!" Mrs. Jeon says, walking to her two sons as she swipes her fingers through Jungkook's thick and dark hair like any mother would. "Don't you need a haircut, darling?"

Jungkook looks at her, looking offended as he gasps at his mother's proposal meanwhile Jungwon cackles before his attention is turned to you. He smiles widely, already enveloping you in a hug just like his mother did, although his one is much more gentler.

"How have you been?" he asks politely, grinning at you. You're reminded of your tiny and silly crush that you used to have on him, which you totally understand now that you're looking at him. He's still handsome, both of them are. They've got some great genes, that's for sure.

"Great, it's nice to change the scenery and I'm so grateful that I can be here." you tell him, hearing Mrs. Jeon tease Jungkook about his hair some more which causes him to whine like a little kid.

"Of course, we're glad to have you here." he smiles at you, before your conversation is quickly cut off by Jungkook turning to you with a bunny grin.

"Besides, Y/N says I look good with longer hair. Don't I?"

You almost grin at his hopeful eyes that practically beg you to agree with him, although you see the teasing glint in his eyes. "He does." you nod, Mrs. Jeon smirking from the corner of your eyes before she grabs Jungkook's arm and pulls up the sleeve of his shirt.

"And you got more tattoos?" she gasps, staring at her son's inked skin while Jungwon whistles in appreciation and eyes them too.

"Yeah, just a little bit. There are not that many." he answers, sounding like he's calming down his mother who seems to be shocked by the sudden ink that's covering her son's right arm. Surely, she has seen the few ones he got the first time but since then, he added a couple more to his collection.

"Oh, my sweet boy. You grew up so fast!" she whines, clutching to his right arm like a koala which makes you smile and gush at her cuteness meanwhile Jungkook laughs with his nose scrunched again.

"Here we go again." Jungwon jokes beside you, walking with you while Mrs. Jeon is too busy tugging Jungkook to sit down on the couch trying to catch up with him.

It's nice to see Jungkook being back home, his childhood home, catching up with his mother who looks nothing but proud of her son and his accomplishments as he shows her some pictures he's taken. Like every mother, she gushes at each picture he shows her while he comments on each picture and what occasion it had been taken.

You don't fail to notice that in between their childhood pictures hanging all around the living room, there are a few pictures Jungkook had taken, professional ones that again scream nothing but a proud mom. To some stranger, they would just think those are the pictures to go with the interior. To you, as someone who knows Jungkook and his type of work, you know it's his.

And even though you're here as a guest, not even once they make you excluded and you find yourself chatting with Mrs. Jeon and Jungwon just like Jungkook does. They're kind enough to be curious about you and your own life, making you feel like a part of the family and as if Jungkook could read your mind, when your eyes meet there's a soft and understanding smile spreading on both of your lips.

Jungkook catching up with his mother and brother is a very touching and nice sight to see, especially when Jungkook looks much more happy and okay than the last time you've seen him. Funnily enough, it was the morning after he got drunk and woke up, flashbacks coming back to your mind instantly.

"You okay?" you ask, voice worried at the sight of tired Jungkook whose face is completely puffy and slightly pale from the amount of alcohol he drank.

Somehow, he managed not to throw up during the time you both were sleeping. Still, you kept the bucket beside his bed after you woke up just in case.

Jungkook's eyes are scrunched, barely even registering you before he takes your appearance, seeing you all dressed up with the makeup bag in your hand. Fuck, he forgot you're moving back home today. He can't even think properly, his head is about to burst and his stomach hurts. Noticing the pills on the nightstand, he gulps them down with the water that you prepared for him before he's capable of giving you any attention.

"Fuck, I'm dying." he groans, plopping back into his soft sheets as he hears your amused chuckle. You must be enjoying this right now, he thinks. You kind of are, it's a rare sight seeing him so hungover and well, you're glad he's not crying and is relatively fine.

"Don't be dramatic," you roll your eyes, "I wasn't sure if you'd be eating after you wake up, but there isn't much in the fridge. I recommend ordering a chicken soup that could help with the stomachache and hangover overall. I'd do that for you, but I had to move back in and the repairman is already waiting for me."

Shit, he can barely focus on your words. The only thing he caught was something about a chicken soup and you having to go.

"Fuck, sorry. Let me dress up, I'll go with you." he raps out but barely has any strength to lift himself up as he stays laying in his bed.

Snorting, you sit beside him as he cracks one eye open before he pries open the other one. "And why would you do that?"

"I don't know? To help, I guess."

There's no point in him coming with you. All you've to do is talk to the repairman, so he can explain what really went wrong and you'll probably have to sign some papers. You haven't brought that much clothes and stuff with you, and you've your own car parked in the parking lot. You're completely fine with going by yourself.

"There's no need. You should rest," you tell him, "Do you remember yesterday? Or today is more accurate." you chuckle, seeing him sigh as he licks his dry lips.

"I would rather not," he groans, "I can't remember everything but enough to be embarrassed." he admits, causing you to laugh but you shrug in response.

"I don't think you've to be embarrassed. Everyone gets drunk from time to time and you weren't that bad, although I thought I would slap you. God, I wanted to so badly. You were so annoying, but funny at the same time." you try to easen up his embarrassment and assure him that it's not the end of the world.

However, Jungkook thinks otherwise.

"I'm sorry." he mumbles into his pillow, closing his eyes as you look at him with pity.

"You don't have to apologize, Kook. I'm just glad you're fine. You are, right?"

"I guess," he shrugs but that's not enough of an answer for you. "I think the alcohol just intensified my emotions and I just lost control over myself. I'm sorry you had to come pick me up, I know I told you I got it."

"It's okay," you assure him, "I know you'd do the same if it was me."

He stays quiet, silently agreeing with you but at the same time he looks like he's completely out of it and barely staying awake.

"Okay, I gotta go. You should sleep it off and don't worry about me. It's not the first time and certainly not the last time that I'm saving your ass." you joke hearing him letting out a sarcastic laugh.

"Y/N?" His muffled voice is heard as you're picking up your travel bag off the floor. You look at him, seeing him lifting himself on his elbows as he looks at you.

His hair is completely disheveled, sticking to every possible direction and if it weren't for his poor puffy eyes and for the pity you feel towards him right now, you'd most likely cackle at the sight and even snap a picture for the future.

"Thank you," he says, making sure you hear him as you give him a smile. "Are you still coming with me to Busan next weekend?"

"Yeah, text me the details. Gotta go, bye Kook." you tell him, hearing a faint bye from him before you're rushing from his apartment.

You're already running late.

You hadn't seen him for almost a week, since the two of you had hectic working schedules but you texted each other almost every day. When it was nearing the weekend, he texted you details saying he'll come pick you up in the morning and here you are right now.

"Jungkookie, I even bought you the banana milk you love." Mrs. Jeon's voice cuts off your thoughts from last weekend and Jungkook's wild night out, causing everyone to chuckle as Jungkook's cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"Mom," he whines, "I don't drink it anymore."

"You do, he still loves it." you interfere, ignoring the glare Jungkook gives you as Mrs. Jeon giggles and looks at her son knowingly.

"I always knew why I liked you." Jungwon says, laughing as you just shrug with a content smirk on your face, especially when Jungkook glaring at you in betrayal.

"Anyways, go and settle in. I'm cooking a proper lunch, Jungwon, you're helping me in the kitchen." Mrs. Jeon says, causing the older man to groan but you know he's just teasing his mother who glares at him in a warning before they both chuckle at each other.

It's nice seeing Jungwon here too. Not because of the stupid crush you used to have, which you don't anymore but you can still appreciate that he's still handsome and ageing suits him. As far as you know, he owns a coffee shop and stayed loyal to Busan since he's living here, staying close to his parents. Oh, and he's actually married. You forgot about that. Of course, he is. Who wouldn't snatch this handsome piece of man?

"Y/N, sweetheart, Jungkook's bedroom is ready for you. There are already fresh sheets and I brought you a diffuser there in case you'll have trouble sleeping, which I hope you won't be having. But feel free to use it." Mrs. Jeon tells you as Jungkook goes to grab your and his travel bags, ready to put your stuff in a place so it's not lingering on the floor in their corridor.

Smiling at her sweetness, you thank her while Jungkook stares with confusion written on his frowned features. "Is ready for you? What about me?" he quotes her, asking his mother who stares at him as if it's not obvious.

"You? You're going to sleep on the couch, of course." His mother shrugs, causing Jungkook's jaw to drop as he stares in disbelief at her.

"On the couch?" he clarifies, an almost horrified expression on his face that makes you chuckle in amusement as Jungwon does the same and winks at you when your eyes meet.

"Yes, on the couch," she clarifies dumbfounded, "You're going to be a gentleman and leave your bedroom to our guest. I hope you don't want her to sleep on the couch." she frowns at that thought.

You're trying to hide a smile because she looks cute and dangerous at the same time while Jungkook shakes his head.

"Of course not," he justifies quickly and innocently, "But my bed is big enough, it fits both of us."

"Yah!" You're surprised by the sudden loud and scolding voice that comes from none other than Mrs. Jeon herself. "She's your friend! Have some decency, ah, this kid."

She pinches Jungkook's ear as he whines and tries to use his height to get away from her, which he does successfully as Mrs. Jeon shakes her head disapprovingly at him before she walks away to the kitchen without another word. Not before she calls out to Jungwon who seems to be smirking and enjoying the little scene that just unfolded, which causes Jungkook showing him his middle finger which Jungwon mimics automatically.

Brothers.

As you make your ways to the stairs, you feel Jungkook leaning towards you as he tells you deeply and quietly, right into your ears. "If she only knew I've fucked you."

You gasp, ready to scold him but he's one step ahead of you as he takes two stairs at a time, but not before he gives you a cheeky grin. Shaking your head in disbelief, you can't help but chuckle and blush at the same time. What is he doing to you? You seriously can't with him.

Following him up the stairs and to his bedroom, it hasn't changed a bit. There are still posters of different rock bands on the bluish wall, and you remember when you first saw them. This room has such a different personality than his current bedroom back in Seoul. It's understandable, he grew up into a man and instead of posters, there are beautiful pictures he had admired ever since he got into photography. His whole apartment is designed into a modern place that makes you admire his choice of furniture and colors. His childhood bedroom is smaller than the one he has right now, it only fits his bed and small desk in the corner of his room, plus a chest of drawers where he used to keep all his clothes. There's no way it fitted all there. The amount of clothes, black clothes he has is just not enough for two chest of drawers.

The room is clean, smells like mint and wood, completely clear from Jungkook's scent which is caused by him simply not living here anymore.

Jungkook puts down your travel bags onto the floor, looking around with curious eyes before he lets out a gentle sigh that escapes his mouth.

"Please, tell me you haven't fucked anyone in that bed." you speak, pointing towards a made up bed that's definitely smaller than your or Jungkook's bed.

What the hell did he mean his bed is big enough for the two of you? Knowing him, he just doesn't want to sleep on the couch and somehow thought the argument of saying his bed is big enough would be okay with his mother. Remembering her glare she sent him is enough to make you chuckle underneath your breath.

"No, I haven't," Jungkook answers, cockily chuckling as he looks at you. "But I got a mindblowing blowjob on it."

Scrunching your nose in disgust, Jungkook laughs at your expression clearly enjoying the way you feign a gag. There's no lie that Jungkook had been famous among girls (and maybe some boys too) even in his teenage years. Even back in the day when he used to have slightly chubby cheeks and a few pimples on his face, which you know because Jimin told you that and you've seen some photos of him from that period.

"Thanks for coming with me." he says suddenly, causing your brows to shoot up before you give him a smirk.

"Nice and smooth way from blowjob mention to thanking me for coming." you laugh, seeing him grinning as he rolls his eyes at your joke.

"I'm serious," he chuckles, "I really am happy you came with me."

Your heart warms at that, seeing the look he has in his eyes that seem genuine and soft. "Of course, I'm glad to be here. Your mom is great, I've missed her." you smile.

"Did you miss Jungwon too?" he wiggles his brows, wiping the soft look on your face in a second as you send him a glare.

It wouldn't be Jungkook if he wasn't teasing you for the stupid crush you had on his older brother. You've never told him about it, but Jungkook is attentive enough to notice the way you acted around his brother. You weren't that scolding and typical Y/N Jungkook experienced and knows. Instead, you were giggling over anything he said and he even caught you blushing a few times whenever Jungwon was just being nice to you.

"Shut up," you scold him through clenched teeth, "I don't have a crush on him." you point out, because that's obviously what he was hinting at and judging by the smirk, he's enjoying it way too much.

Jungkook walks up to you, your features relaxing as a curiosity replaces the glare you were so kindly giving him. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, like he used to at that time he was pounding you to his mattress (or anywhere it was available) and you feel your breath hitching at the softness of his hand.

"That's a good thing you don't," he says deeply, eyes dancing across your face as he licks his bottom lip. "Because he's married and has a kid." he deadpans, ending it with pinching your cheek which happens all quickly. Yeah, you forgot about that kid part too.

You're left stunned, standing there for a moment but you do make sure you rush towards him as he walks out of his bedroom laughing, you slap his arm which he barely reacts to, laughing at your weak strength.

What a brat.

It was around five in the evening, just the right time for the dinner, when Mr. Jeon came from work. He excused himself, saying he had to stay overtime since he's the teacher in a college and had to grade essays before he could come home. Like he said, they never bring work home and he stayed loyal to that.

Even though you've met Jungkook's father before, the resemblance between him and his son is always quite interesting and in a certain way shocking. You could easily tell Jungkook is his son just by looking at him. Just like you remember him, he's welcoming and sweet like his wife, making sure he greets you properly and makes you feel welcomed in their house.

He catches up with Jungkook over dinner as he doesn't forget to praise his wife's cooking, which is incredible and that's why you're stuffing your mouth full. Now you understand Jungkook's constant praise of his mother's cooking. She deserves the title 'best cook' like Jungkook called her.

You're picking up some kimchi and garlic with your chopsticks when Mr. Jeon reaches for the soju and sips on it. "Jungkook-ssi, I'm glad you brought Y/N here. But how's Kiko? Where is she?"

You almost drop the chopsticks as soon as you hear the question, the name of Jungkook's ex lingering in the air but none of them know how suffocating the air has become. Jungkook's parents don't know that Jungkook broke up with her, judging by Mr. Jeon's question and looking at Jungwon, he seems equally interested in why his 'girlfriend' isn't here. They're probably wondering why you're here when Jungkook has a girlfriend, but they're too kind to voice that way. Mr. Jeon's question and curiosity is nowhere near impolite or rude in any way.

Looking at Jungkook, you see him stop swallowing for a few seconds as a prominent frown makes an appearance on his face before he allows himself to swallow the bite. He doesn't look at you, avoiding everyone's curious eyes and your pitiful gaze that you're giving him as you're sitting right next to him.

"We're not together right now." he answers, bracing himself to look at his parents.

Mr. Jeon's eyebrows shoot up in surprise while his wife gasps and puts a hand over her mouth.

"Oh no, what happened dear?" she murmurs, mimicking your pitiful gaze as she looks sad over the news.

Seeing this, you realize that Kiko is not only loved by her friends and everyone around her, but Jungkook's parents love her too. You always knew how important it is for Jungkook that his parents like and accept his girlfriend. His family means a lot to him.

Jungkook's parents not only loved her, but they adored her and were extremely happy whenever the two of them visited. Which was way more often than now. Jungkook's almost embarrassed at that fact, Kiko was the one who pushed him to visit Busan since she couldn't stop talking about Jungkook's family.

"We broke up," Jungkook settles on saying, but you see him gulp while he fights that lump that is stuck in his throat. "But we're possibly getting back together." he adds, wanting to sound hopeful but ends up sounding even more defeated.

"Oh, my baby," Mrs. Jeon gasps, "I hope you can work it out. She's such a lovely young lady and I know how much you love her. You are perfect for each other." she says, almost pouting while her husband nods along her words.

Those words affect you more than you'd like to. Especially since they've this image of her and don't know the whole truth. You're sure they wouldn't be her fans if they knew the truth and how much she hurt their son. It's not your story to tell and you decide to stay quiet, simply and quietly eating the food while the rest of the family seems still shaken up by the news. It's up to Jungkook whether he decides to tell them what happened or not.

There are a couple of reasons why he wouldn't want to tell them the truth. First, there might be some kind of embarrassment of admitting that he was cheated on. Secondly, there is still a chance they'll work it out and maybe he knows their parents would change the way they see her. Even though you're sure they're not capable of hating anyone, and will support their relationship nevertheless if it means their son is happy. It's very similar to the way you feel, even though you feel a bittersweet taste in your mind at Mrs. Jeon's words.

"We'll see," Jungkook gives them a tight smile, reaching for the beer as he simply sips on it. "I hope everything will work out just fine." he adds, but you're not sure whether he did it to get them off his back or really means it.

Either way, Mrs. Jeon nods as she gives her son a hopeful look. "I'm sure it'll, Jungkookie."

The rest of the dinner is much less cheerful than it was, no doubt that topic Kiko has affected everyone and not even casual conversation between Mr. Jeon and Jungwon haven't helped. They do bring up his son and wife into the conversation, saying they couldn't visit because they stayed home. Something about his son having a fever and they didn't want to risk it just in case it's something serious.

The evening is spent nicely, sitting in the living room while chatting with everyone and even though Jungkook seems fine, you do notice the sudden quietness and the lack of happiness he had when he came back home. Reaching for his hand, when everyone is too busy commenting on the current news that is playing on the television, you squeeze it and give him a soft smile of encouragement when he looks at you.

He returns it, mouthing 'I'm fine' as if he could read your mind. But then again, maybe he can't read your mind but he already knows you well enough to guess what goes on your mind.

It's around ten at night when everyone decides it's time to get ready for bed, and by that you mean taking turns in the bathroom because there's only one. Jungwon goes back to home, making sure he says goodbye to everyone. You don't miss the reassuring hug he gives Jungkook, murmuring something into his ear which Jungkook just nods to while he tries to muster a smile. The kind people Jeon's are, you're the first one who gets to take a shower, no matter how many times you've assured them that it's fine and you can wait. They insisted, so you try not to take too much there as you quickly take a shower and put your pajamas on. Saying goodnight feels awfully similar to the way you used to do so to your parents back home, bringing a nostalgia to your heart as you take a note to visit your family soon.

And it's around midnight when your body is ready to take a sleep, the peaceful quietness in the house is like a lullaby. But that's until the door of Jungkook's old bedroom is quietly and slowly being pushed open. Widening your eyes, you recognize the figure almost immediately but you don't even have to – because who else would be sneaking into the bedroom at midnight?

"Jungkook?" you mumble tiredly, plopping yourself onto the elbow.

"Yup, it's me," he whispers, answering your question as he walks up to the bed casually, getting in. "Scoot over." He almost scolds you for not already doing that, as he finds you laying right in the middle.

You give him more space, frown adoring your face which he fails to see because of the darkness. The little bit of lightning comes from the moon through the blinds, but it's nothing. All you can see are shadows.

"What are you doing?" you ask, confusion laced in your voice as he hums comfortably as he's trying to make himself comfortable. He even tugs onto the blanket you're using, exposing the side of your leg as you tsk at him.

"What does it look like? I'm sleeping here." he answers nonchalantly, still trying to find the right position as the whole mattress wiggles and even the bed frame slightly creaks underneath both of your weights.

"Your mom is going to kill you if she finds out." you inform him but all he does is scoff.

"I'm not going to sleep on that uncomfortable couch when I've got my own bed here," he deadpans, causing you to frown again as you shrug. "Besides, I'll wake up earlier and go back before she can notice."

"You're taking my blanket." you scold him, trying to tug it back but he holds onto it tightly as you hear him scoff.

"This is my bedroom." he points out, causing you to let out a chuckle before you quickly tug the blanket back. Since he wasn't prepared for that, you've done it successfully but not until he pulls it back. Fuck his strength and muscles.

"Oh my god, what are you, ten?"

"No," he answers, "But I love comfort and even my own mother won't take that from me. Besides, she did it just because we're friends and she thinks it'd be inappropriate for us to sleep in the same bed."

"It is inappropriate." you point out. Not necessarily that it makes you feel uncomfortable, because it doesn't. But in general, you know where his mother is coming from and you're not blaming her for wanting her son to sleep elsewhere.

"Hmm, maybe," Jungkook hums, "But she doesn't know we slept in the same bed too many times and did way worse things in it."

Your eyes bulge out at his deep voice and words, causing you to hide your face underneath the blanket for a second before you catch a breath. "Shut up," you scold him, "Just shut up. Let's sleep."

You hear him trying to hold his laughter at your frustration and he's sure that if he turned on the nightstand lamp, your cheeks would be red. It's funny how easily frustrated you can get, especially about something that you've done shamelessly. More than once.

"I'm good with that." Jungkook hums, smacking his lips a few times as he plops himself on the side, facing you.

You laying on your back, you mentally groan at your best friend before you turn to him with your back, wanting to cover more of yourself with the blanket. But your amazing best friend is holding it for a dear life. God, he could've at least got his own blanket.

"I'm not fully covered," you inform him, filling the silence once again. But Jungkook just plainly ignores you and you're met with silence that makes you sigh in frustration. "Jungkook, you know I can't sleep with just a tiny piece of blanket."

You love to wrap your legs around the blanket, sometimes use it as your pillow too. Not the whole blanket though, just a small piece enough to plop underneath your head, so you can press your cheek against it.

"Then scoot closer," he says lightly, too innocently. Suspiciously innocently. "I don't bite." he adds and you can hear the amusement in his voice as he tries to say it deeply, teasing you.

You groan, wanting to throw a tantrum because he's being a teasing shit. Although, there's a small side of you wanting to laugh at that.

"But no funny business." you warn him, scooting closer just enough for the blanket to cover your body fully.

You can feel the warmth radiating from Jungkook's body, too comfortable warmth.

"I'm not even going to touch you," he mumbles, too tired to pay full attention to you. "Now shut up and sleep."

You roll your eyes, stubbornly tugging onto the blanket some more but Jungkook's strong arms are already holding it. You're ready to scold him but something about his soft and slow breathing stops you. There's no point in bickering in the middle of the night.

So you close your eyes, now not only the quietness but also Jungkook's soft puffs of breaths that leave his mouth lullabies you to sleep.

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook fanfic #personasintro

460 notes · View notes

permanentswaps · 1 month

Text

New Tricks Pt. 3

Inspired by needsastory. Read Part 1 and Part 2 first!

Ben’s POV

Dad in my body burst back in through the door less than an hour later, his expression a mix of frustration and disappointment. I raised an eyebrow, curious about the sudden return.

"You weren’t gone very long, what happened?" I asked, confused.

Tom let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Kim's parents came back from their vacation early. She wasn't expecting them, but she told me I couldn’t stay the night anymore."

"So, does that mean … ?" I started to ask.

Dad, frustrated, said. "Yeah, we made out a bit, but... we didn't get to fuck," he admitted, a bit frustrated.

"Thank god," I said

Tom shot me a curious look. "Why? You worried I was gonna set expectations too high for when we swap back?"

I hesitated for a moment before explaining, "If you had fucked with her, it might have made the swap permanent. We'd be stuck like this forever."

As I verbalized the thought, a strange mix of emotions washed over me. Despite the initial shock and frustration of being trapped in my dad's body, I was definitely coming around to the idea of staying like this. The prospect of embodying the masculinity and strength I had always admired was strangely appealing.

Dad seemed to sense my conflicting emotions and raised an eyebrow. "You sound almost disappointed," he said, amused.

I chuckled nervously. "Yeah, well... I guess I am.” I admitted, scratching the back of my head awkwardly.

To my surprise, Dad didn't seem fazed by my confession. Instead, he leaned back against the door frame, crossing his arms thoughtfully. "You know, even if this isn't permanent, maybe we should consider staying like this for a bit," he suggested, his tone surprisingly earnest.

I stared at him in disbelief, caught off guard by his proposal. But as I mulled over his words, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within me.

"Yeah," I replied slowly, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Maybe we should."

Tom’s POV

Over the next week, I found myself surprisingly at ease in Ben’s routine.

I really liked hanging out with Ben's friends. They were a cool group, each with their own quirks and personalities. One of his friends, in particular, stood out to me - Colin. We chatted a lot at school, sharing jokes and stories between classes. It was easy to see why Ben enjoyed his company so much.

"So, you coming to watch the game tonight?" Colin asked, tossing his backpack over his shoulder as we walked to our next class.

I nodded, a smile playing on my lips. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. You ready to crush it out there on the field?"

Colin grinned, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "You know it, man. We're gonna dominate!"

Later that day, Colin and I stood on the sidelines, watching the girls' soccer team play before the boys went on. I couldn't help but admire Kim. She was a force to be reckoned with on the field, her determination evident in every move she made.

"Damn, she's really good," Colin said, nudging me with his elbow.

I quickly looked at him before shifting my attention back to the field and grinning. "Yeah, she's something else, isn't she?"

But my attention didn’t stay focused on the field for long. Stealing another quick glance at Colin, I began to admire him too. His hair tousled from his earlier warm-up run, a faint sheen of sweat glistening on his skin - he was undeniably cute.

"You okay, man?" Colin asked, noticing my distraction.

"Yeah, just... admiring the view," I replied casually, hoping he wouldn't pick up on the sudden shift in my thoughts.

As the week progressed, I couldn't shake the realization that Ben might be a bit of a repressed bisexual. It wasn't a problem for me - I had already come to terms with being gay and was out and proud. But I made a mental note to ask him about it when we switched back.

Despite the newfound comfort in Ben's life, there was still a lingering sense of sadness. I missed the muscles I had worked so hard for, the physical strength that had become a part of my identity. But as I looked around at Ben's friends, at the camaraderie and laughter they shared, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the opportunity to take a walk in his shoes, if only for a little while.

Ben’s POV

Over the next week, I found myself reveling in the virility of my new body. It was a strange sensation, feeling the raw power coursing through my veins, the result of years of dedication and hard work that had sculpted my dad's muscular physique.

I indulged in activities that I had only dreamed of before. With each passing day, I spent more time in the gym, pushing my body to its limits and relishing in the sensation of strength and vitality that surged through me.

But despite the exhilaration of my newfound physical prowess, there were moments when the tension built up, the strain of unfamiliar muscles protesting against the strain of my workouts. It was then that I decided to treat myself to a massage, hoping to alleviate the knots and tightness that had accumulated over the week.

As I entered the massage parlor, I was greeted by a super attractive guy, somewhere between my current age and my old body’s age. His warm smile and soothing demeanor immediately put me at ease, and I couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement in my chest as he led me to the massage room.

"So, what brings you in today?" the masseur asked, his voice gentle and inviting as he prepared the massage table.

I shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the nerves that fluttered in my stomach. "Just feeling a bit tense lately. Thought a massage might help."

He nodded understandingly, motioning for me to lie down on the table. "Don't worry,m you're in good hands," he reassured me with a wink, causing my heart to skip a beat.

As his skilled hands began to work their magic, kneading away the tension that had built up in my muscles, I couldn't help but relax into the sensation. It was like all the stress and worries of the past week melted away under his touch, leaving me feeling lighter and more at peace than I had in ages.

"Wow, you're really good at this," I murmured appreciatively, my eyes drifting shut as I surrendered myself to the blissful experience.

He chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. "Just doing my job," he replied modestly, though there was a hint of pride in his voice.

As the massage continued, lost in the sensation of his hands moving over my body with practiced skill. Eventually, his hands made their way down to my waist and torso. Quickly, I felt my cock start to harden and peak through the towel he had laid across my lap.

“I am so sorry.” I apologies profusely, my cheeks turning red.

“No worries at all.” He said, trying to hide a smirk. “Happens all the time”

“Should we stop.” I ask.

He hesitated. “Normally I would say that we should take a break, but,” he winked at me, “that's not really want I want to do with a guy like you.”

He swiftly to grasped my dick before taking it all in his mouth and continuing to rub my muscles with his hands. As he sucked me off on the table, I arched my back and raised my arms up to flex towards the ceiling. In that moment of ecstasy, I thought to myself.

“There is no way I am ever giving this body up.”

I gently stroked his chin with my thick fingers, guiding him up to kiss me. Then, whispering in his ear, I said. “How about I make you feel good too.” Before grabbing his ass.

He quickly took off the rest of his clothes and straddled me over the table before we started making out again. As he lowers his ass, I begin teasing his hole with my cock. He feels up my biceps again and moans, “oh you’re so sexy daddy.”

That's all the confirmation I needed. I thrust upwards, holding onto his waist with both hands, and feel my thick cock enveloped by his warm hole. Immediately I feel a bit dizzy, but as quickly as the feeling comes, its replaced by a sense of incredible clarity. In that moment I knew, I was Tom, forever.

Tom’s POV – Epilogue

Three years had passed since my dad made the swap permanent, and while I was initially upset, I couldn't deny that I had lucked out.

Sure, I no longer had a super muscular physique, but my new body was undeniably cute, and that counted for something.

Once I knew this was my life to live, I made some changes. First thing was I decided to break up with Kim. It wasn't an easy choice, but as I came to terms with my evolving identity, I realized that my heart belonged elsewhere. Despite this new body being bisexual, I found that my preferences leaned heavily towards guys. I also, began to update my style, since, unlike dad, I didn't care about what the other guys at school would say.

About a year after the swap, I met my boyfriend, Zander. He was everything I had ever dreamed of in my old life- kind, funny, and super super romantic. With him by my side, I felt like I could take on the world.

In a twist of fate, I also found unexpected success as a model in my new body. While Dad had always complained about his delicate features – in the model industry they were actually an asset. And besides, he was always concerned that people thought he looked gay, but now, with me in control, this body was gayer than it had ever been.

Now I make an absolute killing, and I get to enjoy the perks of fame and fortune while still in my twenties. Even though I didn’t choose this body, I now can’t even imagine living my life any other way.

Ben’s POV – Epilogue

I know what you're probably thinking - I must be crazy for giving up my old body. And yeah, maybe I am a little crazy, but it's a decision I don't regret in the slightest.

Since the swap, Benji - as he now prefers to be called - has thrived in my body. It's like he's living out the life he always wanted but never had the chance to before. And I have to admit, seeing him so happy and fulfilled brings a sense of warmth to my heart.

As for me? Well, I've found myself exploring a whole new side of life that I never knew existed. I’ve kept on hitting the gym, and I think it looks even better than when Benji was still controlling it.

Dating guys might not have been something I ever imagined myself doing, but there's something undeniably freeing about it - like shedding the expectations and constraints of my old life and stepping into something new and exciting.

While Benji may be going steady in my old body, I haven’t slowed down at all. There’s constantly a new twink in my bed, begging to be railed by me. Even though each twink is cuter than the last – I still regret that I am related to my old body, otherwise I would’ve fucked him a long time ago. That said, he would never do the kinky stuff I’m into now. Now, every Grindr hookup we experiment with leather, bondage, BDSM … and I always go in raw so that I can fill their insides with my seed. After all, with a body like this, life is too short to play it safe.

240 notes · View notes

kyluff · 4 months

Text

— ↺ Awkward Confessions

✎ shoko x reader !

✦ summary ➠ Gojo is in love with you, when he goes to confess his feelings to you he learns something that will go on to shock him for the rest of his days.

✦ warnings ➠ none, maybe nsfw almost but it’s just making out really, wlw

✦ note ➠ this is the laziest thing I’ve ever made, I just love shoko and her beautiful self.

— The summer heat glared down on Jujutsu High, it held no remorse for the second years innocently say below. Each of them were sprawled out across the training grounds, they had no intent of using it to battle in this harsh weather. All but one were there, a certain white haired man was missing from the group.

“Where’s that idiot gone off to know?” One of the two girls there asked, her head was lazily resting on your upturned stomach since you were laying on your back.

“Who knows.” Suguru, the said man’s best friend carelessly said, not caring much about what Satoru could be up to right now.

A wave of warmth pasted through your body, not just because of beating sun above, but also because of the woman that had her head on your torso. You started to struggle, wishing for this feeling to end, so you softly nudged the brown haired girls head away. “Off, please.”

She rolled her eyes in annoyance, but still pushed her figure up to free you. As she got up, she saw the boy she was asking about earlier. His hands were full, carrying four things that looked like snacks.

“Y/n! I made sure to get your favourite,” He handed you the snack he had personally picked for you, he learned that you liked this item from the schools local vending machine.

“Thanks, is that where you were? Getting these treats for everyone?” You kindly took the package, not without saying a thank you of course. “That’s very nice of you.”

“Oh no, the rest are for me, I only got one for you.” He smiled like what he said was not a little rude. You made a noise of surprise, not expecting him to just give you something. He copied the three of you, making himself comfortable on the hard ground.

“Whatever, let’s go back to my room, I’ll set up the fan for us.” Shoko decided it was time for the two of you to leave, tugging you up with her.

Once you were officially out of view, Gojo took the opportunity to talk to his long haired friend. “I’m going to do it today.”

“Do what?” Suguru was amused, he knew what he was talking about but he wanted to hear it still.

“Ask out Y/n! I have a whole plan set up, the first step is already complete; give Y/n her favourite food. This will make her day, and she’ll think about me as she eats it.” Gojo had this idea ever since he developed feelings for you, now felt like the right time for him to confess his feelings to you.

“And what are the other steps this plan has?” Suguru was intrigued, the first step was idiotic already so the following steps must’ve been just as good.

“Next is words of affirmation, I will compliment her. Shoko said they were going to her room, right? I’m going to pay them a visit!” He waved and started on his way to the room you were supposedly in. The black haired man could only wave back in response, a mischievous look forming on his face. Gojo was in for a surprise.

Back at Shoko’s room, you both had changed out of your uniforms and into shorts and tank tops to try to cool off. Shoko had turned on the fan and placed in so that it would blow onto you bodies that were laying on the bed.

You were laying on you back, reading a magazine to distract yourself from the weather outside. Shoko was leaning against the wall that her bed was cornered against, she held her own magazine.

Her gaze dropped onto you, watching as you flipped through the pages. You had the magazine hovering in the air, leaving room under your arms. She dropped her book onto the bed, crawling up towards you and placing herself into the opened spot that fit her perfectly.

You stopped reading and looked down at her, discarding your book now. You let your arms wrap around her neck, enclosing them. You took time to savour the moment, playing with the ends of her hair and looking into each others eyes.

“Your cheeks are so pink.” She noticed, reaching out to brush her fingers along them.

“Ya well, it’s crazy hot outside.” You chuckled. “Are they bothering you?”

“No, you look cute.” Your mouth fell open, a small smile fighting to come out. “Oh look, they’re turning pinker!”

You brought your hand from her hair to flick her forehead softly. She always teased you no matter the situation, she always found a way. You couldn’t hold it in anymore, grabbing the back of her head to smush it against your own. She quickly reciprocated, slightly tilting her head to kiss you at a better angle. You were both lost in your own world, just the two of you.

“Knock, knock! Are you in there Y/n? I have to tell you something.” You heard a voice calling for you from the door, you knew who it was just from the enthusiasm that came with his words. He didn’t wait for a response though, busting through the door. You panicked, trying to push of your girlfriend. But she didn’t budge, continuing the make out session between you. “Y/n, I just wanted to tell you that-”

There was a long pause, Gojo just started at you from his spot at the door. He was still gripping the doorknob in shock, afraid to move. “Oh.”

You finally successfully rid of Shoko, shoving you off of you. “Gojo! Uhm, uh.” You weren’t sure what to say. “Shoko, why didn’t you move!”

“I knew that idiot has been eyeing you up for the paste couple months, wanted him to see that you’re taken.” She got up from the bed and walked up to the door where Gojo stood.

“Now you know.” And she shut the door on his face.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #shoko ieiri #jjk shoko #shoko x reader #shoko ieri x reader #wlw #fanfiction #fanfic #anime x reader #anime #x reader #black and white

331 notes · View notes

mx-your-name · 1 month

Text

His Goddess - 2

Possessive!Adam x Goddess!Reader

Warning: Yandere theme, Possessive Adam, minimum Obsessed Adam, mention of willing to kill angels and sinners, Adam trying to fight a literal GOD, slight mention of sized and mommy kink, a weird ass dead Angel willing to do anything for you that goes by the name of fucking ADAM!

-Like any normal day you were awake doing business whether it was watching over the mortal world, heaven, or hell

-Just then you had to get called into a meeting making you even more annoyed while you were trying to maintain all three places which were all chaotic.. Lute was a mess after Adam’s death with Sera and Emily trying to cheer her up or something, hell was hell, and Earth was just a mix of heaven and hell that was 10x worse than both

-And to your no amusement only to find out that the meeting had lasted for three hours!

-Not only did you miss out on normal day activities you do but Adam was also panicked on where you were at

-He had woken up and went to the normal spot to find you NOT there so he thought you were in your library or something? Nope! Garden? Not there either! He had looked everywhere only to find no one, not his goddess in sight

-Adam knew he shouldn’t worry since you were not only a HOT GODDESS but one that is more powerful than the other four

-Including your hot and sexiness

- *s i g h s in d i s a p p o i n t m e n t*

-Image him calling you tall milf or Mommy cause how you always towered over him.. yeah weird motherfucker but we still love him

-You see how cocky he is about himself just wait until he tells you all the cool stuff that he had done for you to fall more in love with him but fails miserably, you already saw everything he had done from the start of time itself

-Size kink, you can’t tell me otherwise! Whether it’s you or him that’s taller! He’ll still have a size kink no matter what!

-Still calls you a bitch but instead he says, “milf bitch,” or “tall bitch,” or “hot bitch,” or even “mommy bitch,” He’s still coming up with more nicknames for you till this day, yeah weird motherfucker am I right?

-I regret doing this but I love him sfm…

-Has told you multiple times that you belonged to him and him alone which is like 5 or 6 times PER DAY sadly..

-Of course he trusts that you’d never leave him for someone else like who would? He’s Adam! The first man! The dickmaster! He just doesn’t trust that goody tooshoo Cupid guy that talks nonstop about love this and love that

-Yeah.. he definitely had to tell himself that he was the only one made for you and you alone. He fucking CACKLED for the past 5 10 minutes about that

-Meanwhile you were super bored in the meeting which was talking about what to do with certain IMP’s in hell that were going back up to the human world messing with the people and killing them after getting more calls from clients and shit about that

-You were really wishing you brought Adam in here to make it entertaining and have some views from a person that knew sinners personally that just wanted to kill them

-Now when you were looking through the eyes you have everywhere and saw Adam laughing to himself then leaving to grab a drink and sip on it, maybe it was in fact the best idea to not have him come to this Gods meeting

“I say we just go down there and handle them ourselves! Sooner or later they are gonna need to learn to not FUCK with the human world and just stay in their damn place! Maybe we should even give Stolas a visit about him letting those IMP’s use his book that was passed on through his family from us!” Demeter shouted slamming her fist on the table now standing up from her chair knocking it over making it tumble onto the ground. The vines alongside the wall as decoration grew bigger fast from her anger that was swelling up inside of her.

“Not only that but they are messing with nature! The nature that I took my time growing! The nature that I took my time out of my schedule to plant in the place that was needed and thought out only from it all gets mostly destroyed by.. fucking IMP’s!” Her shouting was heard throughout the entire room and through the giant down for all of your 40 foot tall frames. The vines growing faster and faster the more her anger boiled, Eros shirking down a bit muttering how this didn’t feel like a lovely conversation anymore.

Themis sat there, her hands intertwined neatly on the table, staring at Demeter through her blindfold over her eyes with a straight face. Ares felt the anger that was all so familiar that he knew during the wars he went through time and time again for humans only that was never really appreciated or respected anymore nowadays. You knew every emotion that everyone was feeling, you sat at your seat in between both sides. Resting your face in the palm of your hand that stood up on the arm of your chair wanting this meeting to be over since you still had stuff that you needed to get down.

For example like making sure that Adam hadn’t gone mad when finding that you were missing and leaving your place without him. It was always important to him that when you left you had to take him with you since he was always feeling like you were just cheating on him with that Cupid guy which Adam refers to him as. Yeah you had to tell him just because you're leaving without him doesn’t mean you're doing any of that with Eros after all he wasn’t anything more. That but also because Eros already basically had two wives since he is Cupid.

You also had to remind Adam that you two weren’t dating, which Adam acted so dramatic about crying that you didn’t love him anymore. He had crocodile tears going down his face, sighing as you lifted him up in your hands telling him to stop crying. When he thought you weren’t looking he had a smirk on his face knowing that he won the conversation. He “always” did, instead you only let him since Eros told you over and over that he could feel Adam’s love for you raiding off of him, but told you privately that the love Adam had for you was more toxic and possessive but still said it was so cute to see the love between you two!

“Demeter, please calm down. We’ll get this whole situation sorted out in no time and you know revealing ourselves to anyone besides to the certain people that know about us would mess up everything and would cause chaos to arise. We’ll all come up with a plan on what to do, maybe we could speak to Stolas about the matter after all he knows of our existence because of his family.” You told Demeter, breaking through the tension between everyone once snapping out of your thoughts about the matter you're gonna have to deal with when getting back to your place.

“I sincerely apologize, [Name]. I’m just a bit mad for what those IMP’s are doing to my amazing plants down on the planet Earth.” She explained, her vines shrinking back down with a swipe of her hand. Her once chair that laid on the ground was now sat back up thanks to her plants that sprouted from the bottom of her feet. Demeter sat back down in her seat with a swift motion, Eros now sitting back up in his pink chair that had hearts on it that was designed that was to his liking.

-After that whole thing the meeting went completely normal figuring out ideas and coming up with a way to get what Demeter wanted without breaking any of the rules

-Never have you been so thankful in your life when the meeting finally ended letting all five of you go back to what you were doing before the three hour long God and Goddess gathering

-Snapping your fingers you were easily back at your place, Adam who was watching television with a slurpee in hand sipping on it

-Your once 40 foot tall height shrunk down to ten feet that was still taller than Adam since you didn’t feel comfortable being short cause it didn’t fit you, that’s what you’d always say

-Once you sat down beside him on the couch expect him to immediately cling onto you like you were a jungle gym or something

-For a warning he ain’t ever gonna let go until he feels that he can but will still cling to your side wherever your heart leads you to

-Threatening anyone that he deems competition that’ll try and fight for your love

-Yes he HAS in fact threatened the other gods even the goddesses about staying away from you his lover

-Oh my YOU! He almost died a second time thanks to Ares but it was stopped by you. Adam knew that you’d protect him but didn’t show it telling you that he could’ve handled it on his own

-no… just no-

-Adam so wished Lute was here so he could show you off to her and say he had hit the jackpot on finding the one that was always meant to be his lover from the start

-He does miss Lute most of the time feeling a bit lonely without his best friend by his side but at least you're here with him! Not like you're ever gonna leave. He wasn’t able to die again with him by your side and you wouldn’t be able to die since you are a LITERAL goddess

-Had tried to convince you to bring Lute up here multiple times but you told him that you weren’t able to do that for the sake of the rules that were written down for you, you did tell him that if she did die that she would come up here and could stay here with the two of you if he wanted. Adam agreed with little hesitation because he realized that he might get you all to himself but if Lute was her she could protect you like your bodyguard

-As if you were gonna need one! If anyone tried attacking you they’re flicked away and if they did manage to after trying to get to where your at

“Oh come on Sugar tits! You will live Lute and we both could get what we want! I can have my best pal with me and you could have another person to add to this house that could pretty you!” Adam tried convincing you, walking side by side in the garden of flowers that Demeter had set up for you since she said your house was a bit dull m, that was but it wasn’t anymore when Adam arrived here and moved in total with your permission.

“I had already told you Adam, I’m not aloud the only way she could come up here is if she dies WITHOUT it being caused by me or any of the others.” You told him for the second time in the past two minutes man. Wait sugar tits? Oh great another nickname for you, guess it was a bit better than bitch mommy, gross. “Oh don’t be like that babes, what’s the worst that can happen? It’s just one person!” Adam said, slurping on his slurpee in hand, his golden wings resting behind his back. He no longer had his weird looking mask since he had died without it on.

“You ask one more time and I’ll take you going on walks with me in the garden away no scratch that, I'll take you sleeping with me away for a whole damn week if it makes you be quiet.” That had gotten Adam to shut up rather quickly huh guess that’s one of the things he doesn’t wanna go a week without or even a single day. He had bugged you so much one time so you kicked him out of your room for a whole night, he slept outside the door and apologized for what he did later that morning. He couldn’t even stand the feeling of sleeping without you in your big giant bed together.

Nodding your head as you continue your way through the garden admiring the flowers that Demeter had made for you. It was rather normal for all the gods or in other cases goddesses to give the others housewarming gifts. Demeter gave all of you plants and flowers, Eros had gotten any pink and pastel colors to represent love. Ares had gotten all shades of red and some black ones that often had both colors mixed to represent the war for him which he loved gladly.

Themis had gotten just blue that were all shades since she only wanted blue and some were white as an exception since Demeter said it was too bluey for the whole garden. You had gotten all kinds of colors since you were creation and creation could make any color and another part of the garden had darker shades of colors including black, all shades of gray, brown, and etc to represent the destruction.

Ares gave every person some knight armory stands along side the outside or inside of the huge like places you all live at to represent the protection of knights that could come to live from his power to protect the place it guards if anything tried to ever attack which was very unlikely but better be safe than sorry. Eros gifted everyone scented candles with your favorite scents and always gave you all new ones every once or two weeks cause the old ones melt away but that’s okay!

Themis gifted everyone scale if anyone needed an option on anything if you don’t ever make up your mind or see where a person should go to be either reincarnated or whiling them from the face of the entire existence. Your gift to everyone was to make anything they wished for since you had creation letting you create anything with the power of your magic that didn’t break a single sweat from you.

“How does a nice dinner and a movie tonight sound to you?” Breaking the silence with ease as your hand held the flower between your fingertips, the beauty is always surprising on how pretty and amazing things can look if you just focus on the present instead of technology, staying inside all day, or just not giving a single care about the world at all. “That sounds awesome, sugar tits.” Adam quickly agreed, grinning ear to ear, and there that nickname was there again.

Not able to hold the smile back from appearing on your face, letting out a laugh as you cover your mouth with your hand. Your eyelids open up revealing [color] eyes that had a star in the middle of it as the pupils. What made you even more beautiful to Adam in the scenery was your smile that would be worth a thousand or even more words that he spent in a heartbeat. But also because of the way you looked at him with pure eyes that seemed to easily overpower anyone if they tried to fight you, yet again they held both the sunset and sunrise you would always want to see with your significant other every day at any given chance that was open for free.

The sun shining brightly behind you making your appearance glow brightly made Adam feel like he fell so much harder for you than he already was. If he thought he was already deeply in love with you, this one handed split second had sealed the deal on his love that he felt for only you. And the way you were looking at him with laughter and a smile he knew you must love him back. If it wasn’t his cockyness talking he would say that he was glad you were starting to love him but maybe not as much as he loves you but that’s okay cause he could love you with all the love he’d offer. Maybe even kill sinners and angels combined to see you give him that smile every day.

#hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel x reader #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #Hazbin hotel x goddess!reader #Yandere Hazbin hotel x goddess!reader #yandere adam x reader #adam x reader #goddess reader x adam #goddess!reader #goddess reader #x reader #possessive Adam #the dickmaster #the first man

163 notes · View notes

bedsyandco · 2 months

Text

𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐭𝐳𝟏𝟏

✰ PAIRING — fem!reader x trevor zegras

✰ SUMMARY — in which trevor tells his gf about a dream (or vision) he had!!

✰ CONTENT — established relationship. just plain old fluff!!

✰ WC — 1K

✰ NOTE — missed my annoying little guy (affectionate) and this was the result. I hope you enjoy <3

You would have never expected Trevor to be the needy one in your relationship. In all your previous relationships, you’ve always been the one who was the most affectionate, the most “clingy.” It was obvious to you now how much more invested you were in those relationships than your previous boyfriends.

From the first moment you met Trevor, you could see that he had a lot of energy. He was bouncing from person to person, chatting animatedly, and he didn’t sit still once that night. Not until the party had died down and the room was nearly empty. And even then he had sat himself on the couch and talked his head off to the girl that sat next to him. You didn’t mind though, you still found his rambling equally endearing today as you did that night.

So maybe it shouldn’t have been such a surprise that all that energy Trevor has, directly got invested into you and your relationship the second you started dating. From planning spontaneous dates every other night, surprise love notes in your car, flowers every time he went to the grocery store, hands constantly on your body somewhere, and kisses always being pressed to your skin, it was safe to say gave as much as he received, if not more.

“g’morning baby,” trevor says, his voice still husky with sleep. he tightens his arms around your waist and pulls your body into his, wrapping both his legs around yours as he presses a kiss to your head.

“good morning trev. sleep well?” you ask, running your hand through his messy strands and he tries to snuggle even closer to you, his head resting on your chest, half of his body covering yours.

“mhm” he hums, pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

it always started like this. a kiss here and there. you knew soon enough trevor would be pressing kisses everywhere, until that wouldn’t satiate him and he’d start getting this mildly annoyed expression on his face. hoping it would encourage you to replicate the kisses on his body too. not that you needed much convincing.

“I had a really great dream. I was sad I woke up for a moment until I saw your face,” Trevor mumbles, tracing your nose, and you smile, pressing a kiss to his head.

“What was the dream about?” you ask and Trevor opens his eyes slowly, lifting his head to he can look down at you, meeting your eyes.

“Actually I don’t like calling it a dream. Let’s call it a vision,” Trevor says and you smile

“A vision?” you question, amusement clear in your voice and your eyes and your boyfriend nods

“Yeah. Dream sounds far off. Vision is something I know will happen one day,”

“Okay. What did you see in this vision,” you ask

“We were sitting on this porch. It was a huge porch, like one of those old big farm house porches you know. And you were wearing one of your big colourful ugly sweaters-“ he says and your gasp cuts him off

“You said you liked them!” you say and Trevor laughs softly.

“I do like them, baby. They have character,” he says and laughs even harder when you hit his shoulder softly

“Saying something has character is just another way of saying it’s ugly,” you say, pouting slightly and Trevor smiles, his eyes swimming with adoration as he presses a soft kiss to your nose

“You make anything and everything look good. Even sweaters with character,” he says and you just shake your head unable to keep your smile from mirroring his

“Anyway, so you're wearing one of your big colourful ugly sweaters and these white fuzzy socks. we’re sitting on this porch swing, your feet in my lap. There’s this lake nearby, and it’s early morning. And the sun rises perfectly over that lake and I probably would’ve thought it’s the prettiest view I’ve ever seen if I didn’t get to wake up to your pretty face every day,” Trevor says, a look of awe on his face and he gently caresses your cheek and you swallow thickly

“Trevor,” you whisper and he kisses you softly

“Wait, I haven't gotten to the best part yet. We��re sitting and watching the sunrise and I’m telling you something, probably spewing a bunch of nonsense like always, but I’m making you laugh so it doesn’t really matter. And as you’re laughing, the cutest little girl runs up the stairs towards us. And she looks just like me, but God the laugh, that was all you baby. I wish you could’ve heard it. It was like liquid sunshine in a bottle. And we just sat there watching the sunrise together,” Trevor says, his serene expression changing when he sees the tears, you didn’t even know had fallen, on your face.

“Why are you crying sweet girl,” he asks, kissing your tears away and you take a shuddering breath

It wasn’t what he had said that made you emotional necessarily, although it did make your heart clench with the utmost joy to think of that future with Trevor. It was the expression on his face while he relived this dream, this vision, with you. The sheer bliss on his face, the softness of his smile, the adoration in his eyes. The way he so clearly and visibly yearned to have this with you. The confidence in his voice that he knows this isn’t just some far fetched dream, but something that will become reality for both of you one day.

“I love you so much Trevor. There’s no words I can use to make you understand how much,” you say and he smiles softly, kissing you again

“I love you baby. Endlessly. you and your ugly sweaters,” he says and you laughs

“I’m gonna throw those out now,” you say and he gasps dramatically

“You can’t! How are we gonna recreate my vision without the ugly sweater? It’s a crucial piece” he says and laughs as you playfully push his face away.

#trevor zegras x you #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras fanfic #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras fluff #trevor zegras imagine

233 notes · View notes

worldofkuro · 11 days

Note

Hi dear! Hope you feeling well! Im writing my hcs but i came up with one idea. If I remember right, here they call it smth like "Imagine". (for Painted Smile)

Imagine teen!Reader is dating a real bastard, just like Alastor's father but maybe light version. And no matter how hard Alastor tries to explain her that this man is bad, she still continues dating him. (Maybe because "it's cool", maybe because she can't leave him (he threatened her), maybe because she wants to make Alastor jealous). What would Alastor do?

Hello my dear, I'm doing great thank you ! Work is already being frustrating but oh well ! I hpe you're doing great yourself !

Let's go for an Imagine about Painted Smile!Alastor reacting to you dating a bastard:

If you are dating a bastard because it’s cool:

Alastor wouldn’t understand. You saw the bruises on his body, his scars, why would you go to some bastard. Did you wish for the same fate as his mother? Then why don’t you choose him? He knew perfectly how that kind of bastard acts.

If you were just saying it was the thrill to be with a bad guy, he would mock you. What do you know about dangerous guy? You were by his side since day one and yet you haven’t been afraid of him. You see? You are just a little naive thing that needed him to survive.

He would easily manipulate you to give up on the man. You wanted thrills? Just stay with him, you’ll see.

If you were threatened:

Good luck to the poor fella. Alastor is observant, he would know soon enough what was going on and he’ll be able to force you to confess what was going on.

Of course, he would love to kill the fella but he couldn’t be sloppy, it would be easy to merge clues together and find him. He would simply walk to your partner one day and have a gentlemanly discussion until he began to talk about specific private things about the man’s life. The man would get paler and paler as Alastor continued to reveal all about his life.

In the end, Alastor would just smile at him before standing up. He would whisper to the man before leaving. “ Don’t ever come near her.”

If you wanted to make Alastor jealous:

Haha! Dear, you are the cutest ! He knew exactly what you were doing, at first it was amusing. He would see you trying to watch if he was looking at you and your poor boring boyfriend. He would smile at you, waving, and be polite. He would love seeing you upset because your plan wasn’t working.. from your point of view.

He was seething with rage but wouldn’t show it. Each time your boyfriend would touch you, Alastor would clench his fist so hard his nails would perce his hands. You were playing a game of mice and cats, and you were playing it well.

Alastor would snap after a week or more, depending on how tactile the man was with you or if you were beginning to truthfully enjoy your time with the man. He would drag you somewhere and tell you you were such a cruel person to let him watch you get along with such an uninteresting person. He would seduce you back easily into his arms, just as you planned.

#alastor headcanons #human alastor #human alastor x reader #x reader #painted smile headcanons #painted smile #human alastor headcanons #scenarios #alastor scenarios #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor x reader #alastor imagine #alastor hazbin x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x you #hazbin alastor x reader

93 notes · View notes

stellamancer · 9 months

Text

hey lonely stranger (won't you meet my eye?) — extra scene

note: this is less an extra scene and the other side of part of a scene. i was going to put it in parenthesis like that one bit in lip smackless, but didn't pan out. also thanks to @/namodawrites for helping me double check gooj characterization since my regular beta was playing bg3 LMAO.

wc: 663

Satoru is used to your denial. When you're with him, it's part of who you are— ingrained into your soul, hard-written in your body like a cursed technique. He finds that he doesn't mind all that much. It's kind of entertaining, really, especially when he's realized how much you are at odds with yourself when you reject him.

You constantly deny him and yet you are more aware of him than you are of anyone else.

It's honestly hilarious.

So, the relief that fills his lungs when you say those three words, when you air your denial, albeit not for him for once, surprises him a little. Satoru can say, with the utmost confidence that there was absolutely no way that you were into that guy, even if he made you genuinely laugh, even if he was the first person you sought out when you got the chance. He only asked you again to give you the chance to make peace with the truth.

Besides, if you're going to be into anyone then it would have to be—

You're not looking at him. Your gaze is turned away from him, distant and unfocused. It's like your thoughts are wandering the night sky, drifting into the cosmos. You let the words out but are you thinking about it still? A happy, normal love? He thinks you would know better than to think you can find it lurking among the stars.

Not when you can find it here on earth.

With him.

You're not looking at him, but Satoru wants you to. He wants you to look at him. Not at the sky, not at the stars, not at some stranger who doesn't have a place in your present, let alone your future.

At him.

Satoru knows you would hate it if you knew, if you realized, but it is so easy to get your attention, to draw in your gaze. All he has to do is say the right thing (or maybe it'd be more appropriate to call it the wrong thing) and your eyes will be on him in an instant, your gaze fiery and intense.

"You know," he says, amused at the thought of the expression you're going to make. "Even though I was obviously the hottest person in the room, you looked pretty good yourself."

It's not a lie. It's clear that you went all out for this event, taking great care in making sure you looked your best— dressed in clothes much nicer than anything he's seen you work in. Satoru's even willing to bet you tried your damndest to actually get a full night's rest.

His words work like a charm and you whip your head to face him. The look on your face is interesting; dazed, amazed. He's not familiar with this expression of yours and he leans in to get a better look. Without thinking about it, he reaches for your cheek, his fingers stopping short of your skin. For a split second, your eyes flit toward his hand, clearly aware of how close he is to touching you. Satoru's eyes trail down to your lips and he wonders if you've been using the lip balm he gave you. It looks like you have, with how soft and plush your lips look, but he should make sure— he wants to make sure.

It's then your denial, your rejection comes out in full force. You take a step back and next thing Satoru knows you're falling into the water.

Huh. He thought for sure this time you would have accepted a kiss from him.

It's okay, he thinks, it's only a matter of time. Besides, the view of you right now, stunned and almost mortified is a worthwhile trade.

It's actually hilarious.

He starts laughing and you give him your usual scowl, splashing at him in retaliation. He doesn't mind, he'll let you have that much because one day, one day soon he'll get that kiss from you.

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #jjk x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x y/n #nikuniku fics #i literally just wanted to write the 'you're not looking at him. gojo wants you to look at him' bit #it got longer than intended #also grandma over here just discovered the make small text button omg #also gojo pov aaaaa it's hard that one wip i have that is from his pov is gonna be hell LMAO #infinite loop!verse

275 notes · View notes

pippytmi · 1 year

Note

For the fake dating thing 11 with whomever you want!

“Do you always get into fist fights on first dates, or am I just lucky?”

There is a bruise already forming on Kara’s jaw, and her hand still has a phantom ache that won’t go away. There might be a touch of blood on the lapel of her shirt, too, but she has been unable to confirm without ready access to a mirror. But it’s this—the firm click of silver six-inch heels against pavement announcing Lena’s arrival—that brings Kara an instant sense of uneasiness.

“It’s kind of in the job description,” Kara shrugs off the rhetorical question. “You know, of being a girlfriend.”

Lena Luthor has an uncanny ability to make Kara feel completely, totally inept in any situation just with a quizzical quirk of an eyebrow and a ruby-red lipsticked frown. Not because she deliberately tries to, but because that’s just the Luthor™ way. Every member of that family seems to have mastered the ability to stare hard enough to make anyone squirm. Even though Kara has known Lena since they were kids—even though they know each other better than anyone else in the world—the effect is the same.

“That might be the most idiotic thing you’ve said all night.” Despite her stoic expression, Lena’s voice is surprisingly soft. “You should have walked away.”

“That would have been worse than not punching Mike Matthews, I think,” Kara says. “Really, I’m ninety-five percent sure I’m supposed to defend your honor, or… whatever the saying is.”

And the strangest thing happens; a glimpse of amusement cracks through Lena’s frown, visible in the ever-so-gentle upturn of the corner of her mouth. “Sorry, did I miss the part where we time traveled a hundred years ago?”

“It’s—you know what I mean,” Kara says. “If I was your real girlfriend everyone would expect me to punch guys in the face for you.”

“Or,” Lena counters, “it might be overkill, since everyone knows you are not inherently a violent person.”

Kara sheepishly tugs at her collar, unable to stop herself from flushing when Lena gazes at her so pointedly. “Does it matter if everyone who meets Mike wants to punch him? Because I’m pretty sure he could make a nun violent.”

“Wow,” Lena says. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say a mean thing about anyone before this.”

“Yeah, well…” Kara grimaces. “Mike Matthews brings it out of me. Or maybe this stuffy party does.” Her hand unconsciously goes back to her jacket, and she has to shrug it off all at once, suddenly feeling constricted in her suit. “I don’t know how you do it.”

Lena must be far more uncomfortable than Kara is, with those high heels and the skintight dress and the overall burden of familial expectations hanging on her shoulders, but she masks it remarkably well. “Practice,” she says—sighs. “And whiskey.”

“Gross,” Kara says, unconsciously crinkling her nose as she works at undoing her tie next. “I’m more of a Capri Sun girl myself.”

A short, stunned laugh emerges before Lena can likely quell it. “Right, how could I forget,” she says, and tilts her head in that curious way she does whenever she has a question she isn’t sure how to ask. But it must pass, because her actual question comes out in the form of: “Is there a reason you’re stripping in full view of the paparazzi?”

“Fan service?” It’s a weak joke, but it makes Lena roll her eyes in that mock-exasperated way that Kara knows would be a laugh out of anyone else. “I just need to cool off, maybe. Then I promise, I’ll be your doting girlfriend for all the cameras again.” She allows a beat before she adds, perhaps unnecessarily, “Without any violence.”

“Yes, I think my mother would very much prefer that.”

Kara laughs, remembering the horrified look on Lillian Luthor’s face with—admittedly—a bit of glee. “Yeah,” she says, “I’m sure she’s thrilled with how tonight is going.”

“Well, she does think it’s all part of a rebellious phase,” Lena muses. “She’s convinced I’m doing this just to spite her.”

Kara has felt the brunt of Lillian’s disapproval back since she first befriended Lena when they were kids, back when they were auditioning for the same movie. Honestly, there is no telling why Lillian has always disliked Kara. Maybe it was because she wasn’t a nepotism baby like all the rest of crowd, or maybe it was because Kara would sneak Lena out of the giant Luthor mansion to go to the movies, or maybe it was because when they were teenagers Kara had wrecked the Porsche (on a dare)...but that disdain has been steadfast ever since they were young, and it’s never once wavered. Everyone knows it. Lena knows it.

Which is why Kara is unable to keep the confusion out of her voice when she says, “Uh. Aren’t you?”

“Aren’t I…what?” Lena repeats, lost.

“Pretending to date me to spite her?” Kara prompts. “You know. Since she hates me?”

Lena’s brow furrows ever-so-slightly. “I didn’t mean dating you,” she says. “I mean dating in general. She thinks it’s a distraction.” She absentmindedly picks at one of the sequins on her dress, a nervous tic that she has never been able to shake. “God, it’s getting cold out here.”

The temperature is just right for Kara, but Lena has always run cold; Kara’s poked fun at her for it once or twice (or for their entire childhood, but who’s keeping track). An unbidden smile, fonder than it has any right to be, inevitably forms. “Well sit down, so you can leech some of my body heat. Besides, you make me tired just looking at you in those heels.”

“Then I’ll be colder,” Lena objects, eyeing the stone of the fountain edge that Kara is currently sitting on. “No way.”

“You’re the most high maintenance fake girlfriend ever,” Kara feigns annoyance. “Here, then. Sit on my lap. And you can put my jacket over your legs.”

It’s hard to exactly tell with the dim lighting of the streetlights, but Lena—blushes? Maybe? And immediately shakes her head. “I’m too heavy.”

“No such thing,” Kara retorts. “I’ll keep stripping if you don’t sit down, Lena. Then your mother will really have a reason to hate me.”

“You are trying to create scandal everywhere you can tonight, aren’t you?” Lena says, but doesn’t move, only crosses her arms and gives Kara an exasperated look. “It would be a hell of a front page.”

“Wow, Lena, if you wanted me naked all you had to do was ask,” Kara says, undoing the first two buttons of her shirt while Lena continues to glare. Then, for fun, she continues up until she hits the top of her bra and Lena’s jaw fully drops in alarm.

“Oh my God, Kara, stop!”

But the ruse works, because as Lena moves forward as if she’s about to button Kara’s shirt back up (or just push her into the fountain), Kara is able to wrap an arm around Lena’s waist and tug her down. Lena yelps in surprise, arms coming up to squeeze around Kara’s neck, and Kara has to hide a grin into the curls that hit her full force in the face.

“Geez, Lena, you’re like an ice cube. Don’t you own a sweater?”

“You asshole,” Lena says, but there is no bite in her voice, only annoyed defeat. “If I get glitter all over you, I’m not going to apologize.”

“I’ll let it slide, this once.” Kara doesn’t mention that there’s nothing in the world that she wouldn’t let Lena get away with. That’s the inevitable truth of being in love with this girl pretty much her whole life—Kara caves first, and she always has. Whether it was what flavor of Gatorade to get from the vending machine, or whether it was who got to sit down in the only remaining chair for a last minute casting call, or whether it was to tag along to Lena’s prom date so the boy wouldn’t try to kiss her, Kara always let Lena call the shots.

Lena exhales; Kara feels the warmth of Lena’s breath against her temple, feels the steady weight of Lena’s body as she shifts on Kara’s lap, feels the rough pattern of Lena’s dress sequins against her fingertips. “You know you’re my best friend, right?” Lena says suddenly.

Those words always make Kara’s heart skip a beat, like they’re right back to being fifteen and nervously holding each other’s sweaty hands while poring over crumpled scripts. “I’d better be,” Kara quips, if only to keep her sappiness at bay, “or I’m returning the BFF necklaces I brought as our first-anniversary gift.”

“I’m serious,” Lena huffs, and her grip around Kara’s neck tightens just a hair. “Will you let me be serious?”

“Okay, okay. One hundred percent seriousness from here on out, I promise.”

For a moment, the only sound is that of cars passing, of the trickle from the water fountain, of the faint music coming from the party. And when Lena speaks at last, it’s quiet. “I know my mom’s not the…easiest person,” she says. “And if pretending to be my girlfriend is going to make you uncomfortable because you have to deal with her, you don’t have to do it.”

“I’ve been dealing with your mother forever, Lena,” Kara says lightly. “She hasn’t been able to scare me off yet, for as much as she’s tried.”

Lena scoffs, but her hand is unmistakably tender as she fiddles with Kara’s shirt collar. “What happened to being serious?”

“I am serious! Do you or do you not remember that time we went to the water park? I swear she cut a hole in my water tube slide. And let’s not even bring up the whole prom incident, because I swear my hip has never been the same since falling out of your window.”

“She didn’t even know that was you.” Lena laughs, and it’s still somewhat hesitant, but just affectionate enough to reflect her feelings about that memory. “That feels like a lifetime ago.”

Kara inhales, shakily, both the sweet scent of Lena’s perfume and some much-needed air. “In a good way or a bad way?”

Lena presses her forehead into Kara’s jaw, her skin still cold enough that it makes Kara sympathetically squeeze her tighter. “Can you just promise to tell me if you don’t feel comfortable?” she asks, and ignores Kara’s question entirely. “Either with my mother, or…just the pretending part with me.”

“I feel plenty comfortable,” Kara tries, but Lena just reiterates,

“Promise me, Kara. I don't want to lose you.”

Something about the urgency in Lena's tone shifts the mood entirely; Kara swallows tightly and nods obligingly. “Okay. I promise. But you have to tell me, too, if anything becomes…I don't know, too much.”

“Fine,” Lena agrees readily.

“No, wait, but listen,” Kara presses. “Being friends is one thing, but dating is another, and—even if it's fake, we're going to have to do couple things. And I don't want it to ruin our friendship.”

“I also don't want to ruin our friendship,” Lena says. “Which is why I brought it up first.”

“Good. Okay. I just wanted to be sure.” Kara awkwardly shifts, all too aware that this might not be the ideal time and place for this conversation. Much less when Lena's still in her lap, clinging to Kara as if afraid to let go. “So on a scale of one to ten, how badly have I messed up the friendship by fighting Mike?”

Lema hums, considering. “That depends on what he said about me.”

“Um, nothing nice,” Kara says haltingly. “I'd rather not repeat it.”

“Then I'll let it slide…this once.” Lena's hands find their way up to Kara's face, fingertips gentle against the bruise on her jaw. “But you are still an idiot.” She thumbs warmly against the apple of Kara's cheek and gazes at Kara from underneath thick mascaraed eyelashes, then whispers, “And you're my favorite.”

“Your favorite idiot?”

“My favorite person.” Suddenly they're seventeen again, and Kara is sitting on Lena's bedroom floor still tugging at her tux because it itches. Suddenly they're seventeen again, and Lena is biting her lip and unable to catch Kara’s eye. Suddenly they’re seventeen again, and Lena is whispering I wanted you to make sure he didn’t kiss me because I want you to be my first kiss.

Kara blinks, mouth opening and closing for a pause, before she has to fall back on a safe feeling—fall right back to humor, so Lena does not comment on the way Kara’s body automatically tenses. “Aw, Lena,” she manages, “that sounded a lot like you like me.”

“I’m just a good actress,” Lena says mock-haughtily, but her eyes are searching as they lock onto Kara’s, expression softening the way no one else ever really sees. To the world she’s always been some cold, aloof superstar, but to Kara she will always be the best friend who wanted her first kiss to be with the person she trusted most in the world.

“Well for the record,” Kara swallows thickly, “you’re my favorite, too.”

There is a split second—a charged, electric second—where Kara swears Lena is going to kiss her. Her eyes are hooded like they’re about to close, and her face sways closer, her hand still resting on Kara’s bruised jaw. But then she sighs, and Kara can feel the distance before she sees it.

“We should go back inside,” Lena says, abruptly stumbling off of Kara's lap. “Sooner or later we'll have to do damage control.”

It takes a beat for Kara to catch up. “Right,” she says, hastening to button up her shirt and follow. “It wouldn't be a Luthor party without damage control.”

“It's the first time you're the cause, though,” Lena throws over her shoulder. “And don't forget your tie!”

“Got it,” Kara calls, undoing her tie entirely and tossing it into the bushes. “Hey, wait up! Come back and hold my hand.”

That makes Lena freeze in place. “What?”

“For—you know, the cameras,” Kara says, shrugging her suit jacket back on. “So we can show a united front.”

Lena gives her an inscrutable look. “You say the weirdest things sometimes,” she says, but she allows Kara to catch up and intertwine their hands together without further complaint.

“How else is everyone supposed to know you're not mad at me?” Kara reminds her. “Or that I'm the best girlfriend you've ever had?”

“I doubt they're going to make that assumption based on hand holding.” But as they climb up the steps to rejoin the gala, the low, golden light illuminates that dimpled smile of Lena's that makes Kara breathless. “What makes you think you're the best, anyway?”

“Just a guess,” Kara says, squeezing Lena's hand as they reach the entrance. “Am I?”

“Let's see if you end tonight without any more fights first,” Lena quips, and while her voice is teasing, her smile grows exponentially tender. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Kara echoes quietly, and allows Lena to lead her right through those double doors knowing that she would follow Lena anywhere.

#prompt was: 'aw that sounded a lot like you like me / im just a good actor'#i rewrote this a million times and finally settled on a childhood friends + celebrity au :)#supercorp #supergirl #i need a fic tag #i miss these two dramatic ''besties'' who just wanna kiss each other on the mouth #lyssa #as always ty for the prompt !! <3

412 notes · View notes

whositmcwhatsit · 3 months

Text

Enjoyable Slide to Oblivion

Like a lot of girls, Chancy Crawford had once been able to call herself one of Elvis's girlfriends, but that was long time ago. Now, she called herself his friend, or his 'cousin' if any of his girlfriends asked. It was just easier that way. And their relationship was all about being comfortable and easy. Until she gets asked to come and join a tour that seems endless and cursed.

AN: I'm not sure if anyone remembers I used to write silly stories, but here's the next installment of one I have neglected for too long. Thank you to everyone who continued to patiently message and let me know how much they liked the characters and very politely ask for the next chapter.

Thanks to @thatbanditqueen for injuring herself in order to give me motivation. And reading to check that I still remembered how to type words. You might need to remind yourself what happened before: Chapter 11 Chapter 12- Move Across the night sky, with those anonymous lights.

Pulling up to the gate of one of Elvis’ homes always invoked a strange combination of emotions in Chancy no matter how often she visited. Maybe it was the fact that there was always, always, at least a few people standing around ogling her curiously, but there was also the insecurity that this might be the time that the gates would not open for her, and the pride she felt at how much he had achieved, as well as an undeserved sense of personal achievement that she knew someone who had so much. That last one always made her feel guilty.

Harold kept her waiting, pretending that he needed to come to the window of her Chevrolet to see who she was and then saying he would have to call up to the house to check it was okay.

“Can’t be letting in just anyone, you know.” He went to the gatehouse and the gate began to open immediately. She smiled and pretended to be amused by his trick as she rolled past.

Chancy pulled up around the back near to the fence where the staff parked. Her car fit in better there than next to the limo and the Lincolns and the cadillacs. She glanced in the rear view mirror and checked her make-up hadn’t slid off her face in the humidity. Her air conditioning was busted, again- it only ever seemed to happen in the summer, a cosmic joke or a punishment.

Grabbing her two small, yellow travel cases, she swung the door shut with her hip and sighed, trying to force her heart to slow down by denying it oxygen. Just a visit, just a visit, she focused on the words and willed her heart to follow their rhythm.

“Well, hello there, Chancy.” She started and dropped one of her cases as Mr Presley approached her from the office, a smile on his plump face. He had that end of the day twinkle in his eye and Chancy mused how, between his twinkle and Mrs Presley’s dancing glow in her brown eyes when she was laughing, it was no wonder Elvis could incapacitate people with just a glance.

“Hi, Sir, it’s good to see you again!” She went to grab her fallen luggage, but Vernon reached it first and picked it up, adjusting his grip and miming like the case was heavy.

“My Lord, what do you have in here?!”

“Well, you know now a girl can’t give away the secrets needed to make her presentable, it’d spoil the magic, wouldn’t it?”

“I guess it would,” he agreed, still smiling slightly. “Though I reckon I need some magic to help this ole mug.”

“Nonsense! I was just about to ask you for your secret!”

Chancy could do this all day. In fact, she did do this all day; most of her job was buttering up clients and making them feel good about themselves. The fact that there was a slight ache to her cheeks as she smiled now was proof of how hard she worked.

“Well, you always were a sweet girl,” he returned, glancing over his shoulder at the house and tightening his lips. “Let me walk you in, I know Elvis is expecting you.” He reached out for her other case and she let him take it, puzzled since Vernon didn’t usually go out of his way to be helpful or even really acknowledge her much past a short, pleasant greeting.

On the way, they made small talk about the weather, which was the law in civilised society. One of them remarking on the heat, the other saying that it had to break soon. Debating whether it was hotter or cooler than previous years and then exchanging stories of the most extreme heat they had ever encountered. He told her about a time when he was a young man down in Mississippi and he was doing some work for a man who wore a hairpiece. The day got so hot that the glue melted and the hair started slipping when he spoke. No one was brave enough to tell him and lose the job. He mimed the man’s hair flying back and forth and how they had to all fight to keep their eyes from flicking from side to side with it. His laughter at his own story was infectious.

As they came in through the back door, he paused in the dim back hallway. Somewhere nearby she could hear a football game being played on television and men’s voices rising and falling as they questioned plays and commiserated.

“You know, it sure is good to see you, Chancy. Elvis’ mother always used to speak so highly of you and how well you took care of him.” He left the rest unspoken, looking behind him to the stairs to the basement, and then turning back and nodding at her.

“Thank you, Mr Presley,” she smiled, a little puzzled. She awkwardly fished back her cases and wondered if he was working up to something, and if she should wait.

Instead, he opened the door to the kitchen and motioned her in, wishing her a good night.

In the kitchen, Elvis’ aunt Delta was complaining about trying to buy something and how they had raised the price when she gave them the delivery address.

“Shouldn’t matter if it’s Tom, Dick or Elvis, if it’s fifty dollars it should stay fifty damn dollars. The nerve of people!” Her little dog was yipping and bouncing around her feet, excited by the heightened emotion in her voice. Mary, Elvis’ cook, her coat on like she had been trying to leave for some time, agreed with her, nodding her head wholeheartedly.

They both turned to look at Chancy as she paused by the counter with a faint smile of anticipation. It was always a roll of the dice which side of Delta you would get, but that evening was a good day, because they exchanged greetings and Chancy was invited into the story of the new chair that had started out as fifty dollars and became one hundred once it was destined for Graceland.

“One hundred dollars, my ass! I said, it’s for me, not Elvis and we both of us have enough sense not to waste another fifty dollars on some piece of-”

The phone rang on the wall by where Delta was sitting at the breakfast bar and she snatched it up, listened for a minute, and then nodded to her.

“Elvis said to go ahead and go on up.”

Chancy had to temper her speed as she moved through the kitchen, heading towards the back stairs.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get your chair,” she shrugged, stepping onto the first tread.

“Oh honey, I got the chair, and a little table to boot. Soon’s I told ‘em that I’d go home and say what a rat-infested flea-ridden store they had and how we ain’t never gonna shop there again, we got the friends and family discount too.”

“Well, they’ll know better than to mess with you next time, Mrs Biggs. I might need to get some tips from you for when I have to negotiate with my suppliers.”

As she was climbing the stairs, she heard Delta say:

“Honey, I don’t think you need any help from anybody trying to get anything.”

Her foot momentarily faltered as her body wanted her to stop and march back down, but her brain won out just barely and forced her to continue her climb. By the time she had opened and closed all the doors that marked her journey, she was pretty sure she had knocked her case into her left shin enough times to leave a bruise, and she paused just inside Elvis’ office to run a finger under each eye to catch the slowly dripping mascara. She tapped on the door and waited to hear a low murmur of assent before she pushed the slightly ajar door open.

Elvis was sitting on his enormous bed with the newspaper laid out before him, apparently deeply engrossed in it, though she knew he had to have been watching the monitors at least a couple of minutes ago to know that she had arrived.

“Oh no! I think there’s been some mistake!” she lisped in a high voice. “The man at the reception desk said that this was my room.” She whirled around, wide-eyed, in the doorway. “This is room 385631.6 and half, right?”

Elvis smirked, his lips and cheekbones all curves as his eyes narrowed. His voice was a little thick like his tongue was still waking up.

“Damn, they must’ve double booked the rooms again, and, you know, I heard the clerk say that they were full up, no vacancies.” He clenched his jaw and shook his head like he was genuinely upset and disappointed in the ‘hotel’.

“Right,” she responded. “I guess that’ll be because of the convention?”

He nodded, rising slowly and stepping closer to her, his fingertips tickling her wrist.

“Uh huh, right, the, uh, One-eyed Albino Python Lovers of America convention,” he nodded, turning away as he almost broke.

“Oh, yeah, that’s a popular one,” she murmured, hearing him snort over his shoulder, and fighting to keep her face straight.

“Well,” he sighed with a sense of inevitability, turning back to her. “I guess there’s only one thing for it.” He shrugged with his whole body, throwing up his arms. “We’ll just have to share the room.”

“That seems like that’s all there is to it,” she agreed in her ditsy high voice.

“You sure your boyfriend won’t mind, uh, Miss…?”

“Tallulah-Wanda, and I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t, huh. Well, I guess I’m just fixing problems all over the place tonight.” He pulled her into a clinch worthy of one of his movies, dipping her down so that she dropped her cases and grabbed his shoulders for safety. They broke apart and smiled breathlessly at each other for a minute.

“One-eyed Albino Python Lovers,” she muttered, slapping his shoulder. He smirked and pulled her back up.

“What? I’m telling ya, Tallulah baby, it’s a real group.”

“Uh huh, and I bet you’ve met quite a few members.”

“I meet a lot of people,” he replied evasively. He grabbed her jaw and kissed her hard on the mouth. “How was your day?”

She paused, surprised by the question. “Uh, it was fine, thank you for asking. How was yours?”

“Honey, I woke up less than two hours ago,” he pointed out, with a wry lift of his eyebrow.

“Right, right, I’m in the Elvis time zone now. Gotta adjust my clock accordingly. How was your breakfast?” He rolled his eyes and tugged her towards him, cradling the back of her head as he kissed her.

“That’s enough of that,” he murmured, though he didn’t elaborate on what ‘that’ was, just steered her around and nudged her backwards towards the bed. “Gotta unwrap my present here.” He tugged on her pale pink pussycat bow, teasing the ends out from where they were tucked into her low scooped waistcoat and pulling the loose knot free.

“You want me to give you my scarf?” she murmured, keeping her voice low to hide how affected she was. “Hmm, that’s a twist.”

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, but he seemed absorbed in his task, letting her silky scarf flutter off to the side as he studied her. She returned the favour, noting how fair his lashes looked in the daylight. His face was fuller, maybe because he hadn’t been well, but his colour was better than when she had last seen him at her house.

Biting his lip slightly, he unbuttoned her waistcoat, but there was nothing seductive or gentle about his movements. She genuinely felt like a gift given to an overexcited six year old. The waistcoat went in the other direction to her scarf, quickly followed by her heels.

“I’ll show you where your things are,” he said, pulling away and holding out a hand. She had to tamp down a smile as she let him lead her, padding behind him in her stockinged feet.

That morning, she had deliberately dressed up in her most businesslike outfit, stopping just short of wearing pants, because she knew he wouldn’t like it. Not to antagonise him exactly, but there had definitely been something pointed in her choice. Some barbed reminder that she was a whole person with a successful, fulfilling life that went on out of his sight line. She wasn’t one of the no doubt many girls around the country just waiting for his call, their life outside of him just filler that happened between their time with him.

In the ‘guest’ dressing room off his office, he showed her the row of plastic covered outfits that he had bought her on tour as if they had been there ever since he returned and not, as was more likely, hastily moved in that day after the last girl had left.

“You don’t like what I’m wearing?” she asked as he hovered in the doorway. He shifted uncomfortably and opened his mouth, clearly still formulating his reply. “I’m teasing you. Go on now, let me change.”

“Oughta tan your hide,” he muttered, giving her a sideways look as he retreated from the door. “Don’t change your hair.”

“Saying please don’t hurt you know!” she called out the door.

“I know!” he hollered back from presumably the bedroom.

In the small dusky pink dressing room, Chancy deliberately did not touch any drawers, no matter how painfully her curiosity niggled at her. She tried to be as dispassionate as she would be in a communal dressing room, which, essentially, it was. She made sure not to make a mess and folded her own clothes neatly, putting them back into her case.

There were a few toiletries sitting on top of the dressing table and she leant over them in order to apply more make up to her eyes, appreciating the good lighting. When she had finished, she checked that she had not left a trace and came back out into the office.

Elvis was sat at his desk with Joe standing over him and murmuring into his ear, his arms spanning the desk and the back of Elvis’ chair. His broad back blocked Elvis from her view. The body language could not have been clearer.

Without stopping, she tiptoed past them towards the bedroom, still holding her bags.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Elvis snapped over the top of Joe’s low mumbling. Chancy glanced over her shoulder almost guiltily.

“Going in there? I got changed like you said.” Elvis visibly relaxed, his face smoothing and shoulders dropping.

“I thought you were ducking out on me. What you got your bags there for?”

“I didn’t want to leave all my things lying about. I’m trying to change my messy ways, you know.” He shook his head and waved his hand back towards the dressing room.

“No, go ahead and put everything in there, honey, that’s yours.” She hesitated, but Joe had already resumed his whispering and Elvis was frowning at the console of his desk with its screen and knobs and switches. So, she tucked her cases inside the door of the dressing room and speed-walked past them back into the bedroom.

The curtains were closed and, though the lamps were lit, the room still felt dark to Chancy. This was not helped by the enormous bed that was clad in black every way from the headboard to the bedcovers. She perched on it primly, her feet barely skimming the floor. She didn’t like that, being reminded that she was short. It made her feel like the room was patting her on the head somehow.

Instead, she pushed off the bed and scanned the shelves of the units, smiling a little at the framed photos of a blond little girl and running her finger over the ornaments, some of them clearly from fans.

There were a few records scattered around the record player, their labels a mess of scrawled handwriting that revealed them to be demos. And there were books, piles and piles of books with fuzzy, slightly scary titles like ‘The search for…’, ‘A Study of…’, ‘Explore the world of…’

One caught her eye, a small, slim volume with exotic gold patterns etched into the worn covers. She glanced up at the door before she opened it to the foreword. It was Sufi poetry translated from the original Persian. Chancy pressed her fingers to the pages in wonder, trying to make it fit into the already complex and contradictory picture of Elvis she held in her mind.

The man himself burst into the room, slamming the door shut behind him, but he stopped short when he saw her standing by the shelves as if he had forgotten she was in there. She could see him biting down and breathing hard, his nostrils flaring, like he was trying to change gears while still accelerating.

She didn’t say anything, looking back down at the book and reading the first poem silently to herself, giving him time to collect himself without being observed, to leave without feeling obligated or ask her to leave. She felt him as he drew close to her, his chest brushing her shoulder.

“It’s good, you should borrow it when I’m done,” he said quietly, calmly. She smiled as she took her hand away from the page and turned towards him.

“What’s it about?”

“I- I can’t exactly say,” he shrugged. “It makes me feel like words and ideas, even sermons and laws, they’re just getting in the way and confusing people, distracting them from the truth and the real essence of God, you know. I-I-I ain’t saying it right, but the guys in this book, they pull back the curtain, you know, and you feel like you’ve caught a glimpse of something, just for a moment, that’s greater and truer than anything else.”

Chancy tilted her head, letting that sink in.

“I do think I’d like to read it after you, thank you.” He leant past her and picked it up.

“Here, take it, honey. I can get another. Ignore the scribbling though, sometimes I just gotta work things out in my head. Try and get things straight, you know.”

“No, Elvis, I can’t, not if you’re enjoying it! I can wait until you’re done.”

“Baby, I want you to. Like I said, I can get another. And we can talk about it when you’re done reading it. I don’t- I don’t have no one I can discuss these things with. They all just get this damn pie-eyed look on their faces like ole Elvis’s gone nuts and they don’t know who to call to fix it.” He crossed his eyes and pulled a silly face while he pushed the book into her chest until she took hold of it.

“That’s dumb,” she murmured, cradling the book to her chest. “Everyone knows you already went crazy years ago.”

“Yeah, well whose fault was that,” he returned, gritting his teeth and pushing his forehead against hers, smushing the tip of her nose. She wrapped her arms around his waist and drew him closer, simultaneously loving and resenting the almost painful wave of relief that rolled over her as she nestled into his arms and felt his soft lips brush against hers. The big sigh he let out as he squeezed her in tighter at least let her know that she wasn’t alone in this comfort trap.

“I missed this silly little face,” he murmured, one hand gripping her jaw playfully but gently.

“Really? This one?” She crossed her eyes and scrunched up her nose, tightening her lips so that it looked like she had buck teeth.

In response, he wrapped one big hand over her face and put a little pressure into it, nudging her backwards. She went with it, trusting him not to have her tumbling on her butt down the stairs. The side of the bed pressed into the back of her legs and she grabbed him by the biceps to stop herself from falling backwards.

“You missed me too, right?” he almost whispered, leaning down to kiss her again. “Tell me you missed me, Cha Cha.”

Chancy heard her own voice as if it came from far away, muffled and almost whiny with longing.

“I missed you, Elvis.” She continued to kiss him even as he turned his head slightly. She could feel his cheek bunch beneath her lips as he smiled, enjoying her affection. “I missed you, I missed you.” She felt his faint stubble grazed against her lips as she let them trail down his cheek and under his jaw. He was bent slightly at the knees so that she could reach, rubbing his thumb around in little circles on her back. Her awareness narrowed to only those points of sensation, the thumb circles on her back, the tingle on her lips, the warmth down her front.

The phone started trilling. They both looked at it blankly for a second, before Elvis straightened and sighed, going to answer.

Whatever was being said on the other end of the line irritated Elvis, he mumbled one word answers until he slammed the receiver back onto the hook.

Without a word, he disappeared into his bathroom and left her yet again wandering around his room, running her fingers over his belongings and trying to pretend that she belonged there. She opened her new book at a random page and let her eyes trip across the words:

“That’s how you came here, like a star,

Without a name…”

She had no idea what it meant, but it sounded beautiful. She murmured it under her breath, finishing with a sharp inhale as Elvis stormed back out of his bathroom clad in a long leather coat, gloves and carrying a police flashlight.

“C’mon, we’re getting out of here.”

Billy was waiting at the bottom of the kitchen stairs, hands shoved into his jeans pockets. He grinned, reflecting Elvis’ smirk as they converged in the kitchen.

“They fell for it, huh?” Elvis remarked, knocking Billy’s shoulder with his knuckles.

“Uh huh, I told ‘em we’d meet ‘em on up ahead.” “Joe bitchin’ and whining about it, I bet,” Elvis remarked gleefully, heading towards the back door with Billy beside him. Chancy trailed them, wondering what the hell was going on.

The wall of wet heat hit as soon as they stepped outside and Chancy shook her head as she stared at Elvis’ broad back wrapped in black leather even as she was peeling tendrils of her hair away from her damp neck and face.

Elvis was too busy crowing over his ability to fool everyone to notice the temperature. He and Billy were joking and laughing about it as they passed the car port and continued on down towards the back gate near where Chancy had parked her car. On the road was a white Cadillac coupe with an old, black truck behind it.

Billy tossed some keys to Elvis, who was still laughing as he got into the truck, but Billy’s smile faded as he turned away and he looked at Chancy with something close to reproach. She couldn’t think why he would be mad with her or blame her when she had no idea what was going on. He was the one going along with whatever crazy plan Elvis had come up with.

“Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on?” she asked nobody in particular.

“Shh, we’re being sneaky!” Elvis whispered in an Elmer Fudd voice, leaning out the window. “C’mon, Cha Cha, get in!��

She looked to Billy again, hoping for something that made more sense, but he had already climbed into the Cadillac and the back gate was opening. Elvis beckoned her and she hurriedly circled the truck and jumped in.

As they pulled out into the narrow road that ran down the side of the church next door, Elvis accelerated slightly and gave the Cadillac in front a little nudge on the bumper, grinning so wide that his dimples made an appearance.

“Uh, shouldn’t you have your lights on?” Chancy asked, goosebumps of anticipation nonetheless breaking out over her arms as she caught his infectious excitement.

“Now that wouldn’t be very sneaky of little old us, would it.”

“Billy’s got his on.”

“Exactly!”

Ahead of them, Billy pulled out onto the highway and faintly they could hear a few people shouting. Elvis waited, engine idling with his lights off. Chancy watched him expectantly as he tapped his thumbs on the top of the steering wheel, humming quietly under his breath. He seemed to become aware of her eyes and glanced towards her, eyes narrow and cheekbones brimming with mirth.

“Being bad feels good, don’t it?”

“It might, if I knew what we were doing.” He didn’t reply, just flew out onto the highway, switching on his lights at the last minute and swerving around the oncoming traffic.

Eyes on the rear view mirror, he murmured, “I bet they’re shitting a brick right about now, man. Serves ‘em right, serves ‘em right. I tell you, boy…”

“So we’re not going to the recording studio?” Chancy asked, mainly to remind him that she was in the car too and he didn’t need to talk to himself.

“You catch on fast, don’t you,” he remarked, shooting her a sideways look. “Baby, what are you doing all the way over there?” He reached blindly across the bench seat and clamped a hand on her thigh, trying to drag her closer to him. She made a series of unladylike noises as she left behind half of the skin from the back of thighs on the warm leather.

“Where are we going then?” she inquired, once she was flush against him, her forearm resting on his thigh and her cheek stuck to his coat.

“Well…” He tailed off. “Where would you like to go?” She bit down on her lip as he made himself sound very magnanimous and not at all like he hadn’t thought his great escape plan all the way through.

“I haven’t had anything to eat since lunch,” she reasoned. “Maybe we could-” He took a sharp turn that almost sent her sprawling. “Or maybe we could not die, Elvis, how about that?!”

He snorted and glanced at her with his eyebrow quirked playfully. She swatted at him, because he knew exactly what to do to take the heat out of her irritation, leaving her with just the intellectual understanding that she should feel annoyed.

“Poor widdle Cha Cha, all moody and mad cos she’s hungry,” he murmured in that damn baby voice again. She was about to swat him a little harder when he did a double take out of his side window. “Hey, you know, I ran out of gas there one time.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, back when I was starting out. It was one of the first times it got really crazy, boy. The cops had to come out and everything. It was wild.”

“Uh huh, getting a ride in the back of a police car to the gas station is not something you ever forget. Especially after I got back and some girl called me your whore.”

Chancy watched his face as his brain worked overtime, recalling the little details that he usually airbrushed from the patter he gave his dates as he took them on a personal tour of his home town, like who else had been there.

“They called you a whore?” he echoed finally, focusing on the detail where he had no culpability. “I didn't know that.”

“Well, it wasn't something I would've wanted to repeat.”

It had been the first time she had been the victim of jealous, spiteful resentment, but not nearly the last. She shook her head like she could dislodge the echoes of embarrassment, hurt and outrage she had felt.

“Besides, you didn’t even remember I was there!” She smacked his leg and turned away slightly, playing at being mad.

“Honey, I did! I-I remember, I was just testing you!”

“Uh huh,” she murmured. “Well, I guess I passed.”

“With flying colours,” He hit her with a poorly aimed kiss on the ear as he steered the truck into a parking lot. Chancy glanced around and realised he had pulled into Dairy Queen.

“You do take me to the fanciest places,” she teased, already moving to climb out.

“Well, I only know of two ways to get you out of this mood you’re in,” he returned with irritating insight. “One’s food and the other… Well, we’re in public, honey, you know.” She felt so much better about the shiver she had to fight back when she saw that, despite the naughty look on his face, he had gone pink.

“You are terrible,” she informed him. “Hey, where are you going?” He paused as he pushed open his door.

“There’s only one way out,” he replied, looking bemused.

“You can’t go in there!” she exclaimed, then wanted to rewind time and roll her tongue back in, because the one way to guarantee Elvis would do something was to tell him that he couldn’t. “Baby, you don’t have any of the guys with you. It’s not safe.”

“It’s late, Cha Cha, I’m not letting you go in there by yourself,” he returned. Then, she witnessed the exact same expression of regret cover his face that must have shone from hers moments before. Because telling her that she wasn’t allowed to do something was like firing a starting pistol.

“It’s not exactly Times Square.”

“I don’t give a damn. Cha Cha, honey, you got all kinds of characters out there now, crazy sonsofbitches and losers strung out on all these fucking drugs they’re pushing on the streets. Baby- Baby, you don’t understand because you don’t know what it’s really like.” She bristled at the condescending tone and folded her arms over her grumbling stomach.

“Well, then it’s not safe for either of us.”

After ten minutes of silent sulking and hunger, they came to a compromise. Chancy would go in and order the food, and Elvis would park as close as possible with his gun ready just in case.

As silly as she knew all that was, Chancy still felt tingles of apprehension as she pulled on the metal bar and opened the door.

At that time of the evening, the place was full of teenagers hanging out and families grabbing a treat on the way home from the movies. None of them really spared her a look apart from a few pleasant smiles as she made her way to the counter.

Not long later, she was juggling a sack and two milkshakes and stopped to thank a man who had jumped up to hold the door for her. He smiled back, nodding at her chest rather than her face.

Turning towards the truck, she let out a little gasp as she saw a small knot of people standing by the driver’s door. Her heart hammering, she glanced towards the phone booth at the front of the parking lot, wondering if she would have to make a call to Graceland to get someone out to help.

As she drew closer, she saw that it was just an older couple and their children. As long as they made a getaway before they attracted any more attention they would be okay.

When she climbed in the cab, Elvis was signing a scrap of paper, what looked like a receipt, and he handed it over, ruffling the young son on the head. Chancy kept her head down so as not to attract notice. The only problem was that the family did not seem satisfied with the autograph and small talk and lingered, forcing Elvis to say that they had to leave. They even took a few steps forward as he backed out, like they were going to follow them on foot.

“Just can’t stay out of trouble for a minute, can you,” she remarked, handing him his milkshake.

“Well, you were gone so damn long,” he complained, spilling a little of the shake on his pants as he tried to negotiate the road. “Goddamn it! She quickly retrieved the paper cup before it was thrown, possibly at her. He was still swearing as he pulled into a rest area, the frosty drink slowly trickling into uncomfortable places.

Seeing his mood souring, she grabbed a napkin from the sack but hid it at her side.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it,” she exclaimed brightly, ducking her head down towards his lap.

“Chancy, no!” His voice went impossibly high, breathless and panicked.

She burst out laughing, she couldn’t help it, and tossed the napkin at him as she collapsed against the back of the seat, gasping and giggling, wiping her eyes. She tried to get herself under control as he irritably wiped at his pants with the napkin, muttering under his breath, but every time she looked at him, all kitted out in his flashy badass outfit, she kept hearing his panicked protest like he was a sweet virgin being propositioned by an over amorous date.

“Don’t see what’s so goddamn funny,” he snapped. “My fucking pants are ruined.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied, her voice quivering very slightly as she bit on the inside of her cheek. “I…” She started laughing again and he smacked the steering wheel and started the engine, shaking his head. “No, baby, no, I’m sorry!” She lifted her milkshake and tipped it slightly as if she was going to dump the whole thing in her own lap. “Look, you give me the word and we’ll match. Want me to?”

A fast diesel truck rattling by startled her and she jerked slightly, causing a large drop to splat onto her bare leg.

“Damn, that’s cold!” she hissed. His eyes twinkled and a slow smile crept across his face. She realised that there was a very real possibility that he was about to knock the cup over her and almost resigned herself to it.

“You’re crazy, you know that,” he remarked, before very slowly and deliberately leaning down and licking the milkshake from her thigh. He punctuated that by opening his mouth and pretending to take a bite of her, his teeth leaving a faint imprint in her pale skin under the light of the cab. Holding her breath, Chancy now understood how fish felt drowning on dry land.

They ate their food at the rest stop without much chat. Elvis was still mad at her for laughing at him. It was always a sore point for him, and she sensed that he was embarrassed by his unfiltered reaction to the idea of her going down on him in public. He always loved to give off the impression that he was unflappable, that there was no boundary that he would not push and no impulse he would not indulge, but that wasn’t true. Not really.

Licking the salt from her fingers, she leant up and kissed his cheek as he chewed the last of his third burger. He didn’t reciprocate, but nor did he move away, just looked out the window at the shadowy brush. She stuffed the wrappers into the empty sack and slid a little closer to him, her bent knees knocking into his thigh.

Rising on her knees, she nudged her nose into the hair at his temple, pressing butterfly kisses into his skin, catching her lip on the arm of his sunglasses. His fingers tapped on the ledge of his open window, almost like she was keeping him from a more pressing appointment, and she wondered if his mood had sunk too low to be recovered. She started to draw back, but the firm line of his arm just behind her shoulders stopped her retreat.

She studied him, looking down from his turned cheek to where the tendon in his neck was just visible above his turned-up collar as he craned his head away from her. Almost tentatively, she pressed her lips against it, feeling his pulse pounding beneath the salty skin. She lapped at it with tiny kitten licks until he jerked away, trying to hide his smile.

Leaning forward, he started the engine and pulled back out onto the road, executing a neat u-turn so that they were heading north.

“Where are we going now?”

“Gotta get you back to the nuthouse before they send out the guys with straitjackets,” he replied, shooting her a sly grin.

“Uh huh, I’m sure it’d be me they were looking for,” she replied, settling herself down at his side. He just kept smiling, dropping his hand into her lap and entwining their fingers. That didn’t last long, because he had to keep twiddling the dial of the radio every time the deejay started talking.

“Wasn’t that George?” she asked, as he abruptly twisted the knob again, muttering a curse word. “I don’t care who it was,” he snapped. “Don’t talk over the goddamn song. What’s the point of them even playing songs if they’re gonna-” He let out some high pitched gibberish that sounded like an irate chipmunk after sucking helium.

“So, where’s next on the famous Elvis’ hometown tour?” “Aw, honey, there’s no…” He didn’t even bother finishing his lie. “There ain’t no point showing you, you know more about it than I do. I ever end up writing that book about my life, you’ll be there…’No, Elvis, it didn’t happen like that, I was there.’” She shook her head at his usual high-pitched impression of her.

“The two of us in rocking chairs, me trying to edit every story,” she added. “In my head, you’re old when you’re writing this life story.”

She felt her cheeks heat as she had basically admitted that she pictured them together when they were old. That was giving away too much and also trying to take too little.

If he noticed her embarrassment or thought that the idea of them being together when they were old was far-fetched, he didn’t show it, huffing a laugh as he guided them back through more familiar streets. “We’re going back? So soon?” She thought of all the people back at the house, likely some annoyed employees and some tense phone calls to be made. She wondered if they would get to sneak out like this again during her stay, and considered that plans would probably be put in place to stop that happening.

“Well,” he bounced a closed fist against the inside of the truck door. “I gotta change my damn pants and… It seems like you might still be in a bad mood, honey. I think it might be time to try the second thing.”

Tag lIst: @richardslady121, @dkayfixates, @fallinlovewithurlove, @notstefaniepresley, @heartbrake-hotel , @freudianslumber , @bbrtt777, @18lkpeters , @prompted-wordsmith, @literally-just-elvis-fics , @eliseinmemphis @lookingforrainbows , @stylespresleyhearted , @amydarcimarie , @returntopresley, @savedrebelcreation, @lettersfromvenus , @littlehoneyposts, @joshuntildawn13, @i-r-i-n-a-a, @from-memphis-with-love, @ellie-24, @be-my-ally, @vintageshanny

#elvis presley #70s elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis x oc #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley fanfiction #enjoyable slide to oblivion #whositmcwhatsit #Consider this my dessicated zombie hand breaking through the ground and finding the world above has changed beyond recognition

71 notes · View notes

apocalyp-tech-a · 29 days

Text

SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW 🌈 (TechxReader)

Hello! This is my Bad Batch XReader Exchange gift for @deezlees for the @cloneficgiftexchange run by @ghostofskywalker!!! 💜

Prompts: Learning to ride a horse || Going on a vacation together || His first time at a history museum || Confident reader persona

Words: 2500

Warnings: None except flirtation maybe

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55173340

A/N: Having background in public history and having already written Tech at museums, this was a perfect matching!!! Hope you enjoy it! 🤓 And thank you to @cloneficgiftexchange for running it!

SOMEWHERE OVER THE RAINBOW 🌈 (Tech X Reader)

The sun shone through the early morning commute of speeders and ships traversing Coruscant's sky, its pale blue color muted by smog that even the planet's filtering system could not alleviate. Towering skyscrapers of grays in every hue passed by as you navigated to the Grand Army of the Republic's base.

Upon pulling up in your speeder, a bright millaflower red Mustang XD38, you saw your future passenger salute you by casually flicking three fingers from his brow. You brought the speeder to a stop and flirted. "Hey good looking. Looking for a ride?"

"That depends," he said as he hopped into the passenger side with one dexterous and confident move.

"Depends on what, Tech?" You raised an eyebrow at him.

"On if I can be the driver." He adjusted his goggles hopefully.

"Can I pilot the Marauder?"

"No."

"Then you can be my CO-pilot. Just remember, I am the Captain here." You winked at him playfully.

You revved up the engine, but it wasn't loud enough to cover Tech's large sigh of frustration. You chuckled to yourself proudly before shooting him a grinning glance. "Aw, don't be like that, maybe you can drive back."

"That is exactly what you said on our previous two outings." Tech held up a pointed finger in a very casual, yet disgruntled manner.

"Yes. Hence the word "maybe."

Tech's propensity for arguing about who was driving dissipated as the museum came into view. His eyes were wide with excitement, though you knew he was trying to keep that emotion at bay. You had seen him go on one of his excited know-it-all rants before. You found them amusing, endearing, and most of all impressive. He was the smartest person you knew, whether it was from Kaminoan meddling or not, didn't matter. You loved listening to him, and he loved to talk. And you didn't just like listening to him because of the pleasing sound of his voice and looks, but because he actually did talk about things that were interesting.

After parking, you both walked to the museum's main entrance. Tech adjusted his goggles as his head tilted back to take in the much larger than necessary doors adorned by a full arch of sculpted marble, stone, mythological figures from all over the galaxy.

"Shall we?" You suggested with a smile.

Tech nodded in the affirmative. "After you, Madame." Tech took note of the strange face you gave him upon being called 'Madame.' Perhaps it was a little old fashioned, but he still had not figured out what else he could use in place of your name without being too forward or disrespectful. Sometimes you called him 'Hot Shot' or 'Ace' which were exceedingly better than the names his brothers called him.

As for you, his brothers were not without suggestions. Crosshair suggested 'Doll,' Hunter suggested 'Sweetheart,' Echo suggested 'Dearest,' and Wrecker suggested 'Booboo-tooka.'

None of those monikers were quite sufficient, however, but Tech knew a solution would eventually present itself.

Since you had already purchased tickets as a surprise for him since he had not only repaired, but upgraded and heavily modified the repulsor system for your speeder, you were able to acquire visitor badges quickly and began your mosey through the museum.

With twenty levels, there was no way you could see everything in one day let alone a few hours, but you knew Tech had marked out an itinerary on his datapad to follow at your suggestion. You knew he only had so much leave to see what most piqued his interest. Even though he wanted to see everything, you finally convinced him to whittle it down to four floors.

"Let's start with the Paleolithic and Neolithic," he said with a tweak of his goggles. He started walking toward the lifts as if he had been there before, but you knew he had simply memorized the entire museum's layout.

"Sounds good to me," you said walking beside him. As you stood in the lift, you tilted your head up to study his profile as he continued to look down at his datapad. You wanted to blame the movement of the lift tube for the slight buckling in your knees, but you knew it was all due to his handsomeness.

Your heart pitter-pattered the moment you had seen him at 79s three months ago. You weren't one to go pick up guys at bars, but there was something unique and enticing about him. You thought little of it or him, figuring to never see him again until he came into your electronics shop in search of a capacitor.

Apparently your knowledge of computers made an impression because he came in the next day looking for a hyper-regulator. With fate on your side, you asked if he wanted to meet you for a drink and after some adorable awkwardness, he agreed.

The lift doors slid open and you stepped into a carefully curated world of wood and stone. Dioramas with the first humans, the first Trandoshans, the first Rodians, Twi'leks, and Pantorans were set up along one corridor.

"It is fascinating, the similarities between different species as pertains to the genesis and evolution of technology," Tech marveled as you came to the exhibit of like tools from all over the galaxy. "The Twi'lek arrowhead is quite similar to the Devaronian and Human. The same goes for ax-heads and needles. But once you get to items like beads and pottery vessels, you see the cultural trajectory lose conformity and develop based on materials available by individual local environment and customs."

"I had never really thought about it like that. I'm used to technology and more recent history I guess." You shrugged.

"Indeed. One can hardly expect the modern mind to memorize all of the information whether historical or technological. Though I do try."

"You have some 'exceptional' advantages that the rest of us do not," you teased. You had not known him three rotations when he went on a detailed explanation of he and his brothers' 'defects' which did not sound like defects at all to you. Then he continued to explain how those traits made them more deviant than defective. You certainly understood that side of him as he often met with you when he should have been attending to GAR duties.

Satisfied with your visit to the 'stone' ages, you next traveled through time and to the fifth floor to the rise of cities and nation states.

Tech stared at the first exhibit with fascination. "The agricultural revolution varied by planet. Those that did not have crops that could be mass produced could only sustain small settlements, whereas those with large crops could maintain large cities that grew exponentially into kingdoms and nations."

"And wars and starvation."

"Yes," Tech turned to you, his brow furrowed with concern at your statement. Did you not find history as fascinating as he did? He knew your views on the war and cloning. He dared not ask, but all he could do was agree with you.

When Tech continued to stare at you, you realized maybe you had gone too far and put a damper on an outing that was supposed to be fun. "I'm sorry, Tech. I didn't mean to rain on your parade."

He adjusted his goggles thoughtfully. "I have seen plenty of rain on Kamino," he said understandingly. "You need not apologize. That is an unfortunately correct assessment of civilization. With growth and progress comes conflict and suffering. The two seem to go hand in hand, but I think rather to have faith that intelligence and good intentions have the advantage."

"In that case, it's almost as if sentient life is collectively "defective." You smiled, grateful for his understanding and wisdom. For being a clone maybe a third your age, if that, you can not but admire his calm and collected approach to situations and problems. The only thing he seemed to ever be nervous around is you, but that was understandable because you knew the clone troopers didn't exactly get lessons in romance in the GAR.

Tech merely pushed his goggles up the bridge of his nose with a knowing smile. He was never quite sure how to take your sarcasm, probably because he was self aware of his own and that of his brothers, Crosshair in particular. But the affectionate twinkle in your eyes and gentle flourish of your smile made his heart beat a little faster and the tips of his ears feel a little warmer.

He had not expected to become interested in a female. He was engineered to be a soldier, nothing more. Yet, you made him feel like he was more than that, that he wanted more even. He found himself returning to your shop even though he really did not need to.

And yet he did 'need' to.

Tech found himself smiling back at you. "Indeed. I must apologize. We have been to two floors of exhibits that I wanted to see. Is there something you would like to see?"

"No, Tech. This was all for you."

"I should very much like to learn about what interests you."

"Well, there is an atrium level. Gardens and ruins from other worlds. I remember being taken with the one from Naboo when I was a child." You felt a little weird saying that considering Tech was technically the same age as you were at the time. "You can actually sit there and relax. Or meditate like a Jedi." You shrugged.

"I would very much like that."

After browsing the garden exhibits of Kashyyyk, Chandrila, Selonia, and Old Coruscant, you settled in the Naboo section. A small waterfall splashed down a rock cliff before flowing through a makeshift river that encapsulated the area and then recycled back to the top of the waterfall. Lush green grass spread across one half before melding with a more tree and moss covered rocky area that housed some Gungan head statues. But what really amazed you not only as a child, but as an adult as well, were the guarlara statues that guarded the Naboo area.

Tech studied you as you gazed upon the statues, content to witness your own fixation with something in the museum since you put up with his. "The guarlara, a quadrupedal mammal native to Naboo, having evolved the physical trait of speed on that planet's grassy plains and also a long mane of hair. Used as transportation before the speeder was invented and now only used for official royal business such as coronations."

"Sadly, I don't think I'll ever get a chance to ride one."

"No. They are reserved for royalty," Tech said a little too bluntly. But you knew he didn't mean anything by it and that he for the most part sympathized with you.

"Indeed," you echoed a word he had a habit of saying. "Let's sit over on that fancy stone bench. My feet are a little sore from all of the walking we've done."

"Indeed," Tech said in reply with a grin. He forgot you were probably not used to walking five or ten klicks or more as he was.

You both sat in silence as the sound of the waterfall drowned out the low chatter of the museum. You took extra satisfaction because Tech is sitting right next to you, so close that your arms and legs were touching.

You knew he was a little nervous because he continued to look down at his datapad rather than enjoy the soothing sound of the waterfall, but maybe water just wasn't his thing.

“Hey Ace. What cycle are we heading for next?”

There it was. 'Ace.' One of your pet names for him. He wanted so badly to find one for you as well, but he wanted a special name, not the usual. He knew you liked driving and piloting as he did, but Ace could not work for both of you. He knew you also liked guarlaras, but there were not many equus related monikers that seemed suitable. Guarlara itself did not roll off the tongue very well. Pony was not very romantic. And mare simply sounded unsuitable.

Tech's eyes went from studying his datapad to studying the floor. He was disappointed that he could not find an ideal solution to this very simple quandary.

He now turned to you, studying your delicate features, so content to be in your favorite part of the museum, yet you were so colorful as well, not like anyone he had ever met before. When you turned to him, he took to studying the sparkle in your eyes, that seemed to represent everything he admired about you.

“What is it?” you asked, noticing Tech staring at you strangely.

He took your hand in his. "I was simply thinking about what an extraordinarily colorful woman you are. You remind me of the rainbows on Kamino. They were always so vibrant after a storm. And you are a vibrant beacon after all of the missions we go on. You are like a rainbow to me, albeit in adult human female form."

“Awwww...” You squeeze his hand and place your other hand over your heart. "I think that might be the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me."

Tech could not help the large smile that spread across his face. “Then it is settled, Rainbow.”

You could not stifle the huge goofy smile that was spread across your face, beaming with happiness at Tech, whose eyes reflected your contentment. “You know, Ace, I think you might have earned the title of Captain.”

“That is not possible. Hunter is our Sergeant and first in line for that- Oh. You are referring to your speeder. You are going to let me pilot it?” Tech asked with a hopeful tweak of his goggles.

You laughed at him. “Come on, Captain Tech. Let's finish out the rest of the museum, then you can take me for ride.” The sly wink you gave him gave you exactly the fumbling reaction you desired.

Tech pushed his goggles up the bridge of his nose nervously and cleared his throat. “Yes. I shall take you for a ride in your speeder.”

After you were all done at the museum, you took note of Tech's excitement to sit on the pilot side of your speeder while you took the seat he had earlier. Before you knew it, you were speeding away from the museum, up into the sky at a breakneck, but controlled speed, but it didn't matter, you knew he was a skilled pilot, and you trusted him with your life, and your heart.

Tech looked over at you, a huge smile spread across your face as the speeder breezed through the bright, neon signs and beaming lights of the other vehicles in the skylanes and shining through the windows of the skyscrapers. All of the colors of the Coruscant evening did not compare to the lovely colors of you, his own personal Rainbow.

#TBBE24 #tech the bad batch #tech tbb #tech x reader #star wars #the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #aelfwynn on ao3 #fan fiction #reader exchange #aelfwynn / techpopstar on ao3

36 notes · View notes

et6rnalsun · 6 months

Text

BATHROOM / Matt Sturniolo

( PART ONE )

౨ৎ pairing / matt sturniolo x fem! reader

౨ৎ summary / he spots you in a club.

౨ৎ cw / slight mention of alcohol.

— A/N ⁑ lemme know if u guys want a part 2. i swear i’ll start writing requests && some fluff lmaoooo. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE

matt’s half-hooded eyes found your oh-so-pleasing form walking through the crowded club. his gaze was glued on you from the first moment you walked through the door of that place. your body — perfect to his now lust-blurred vision, was practically visible in every spot under that tight fabric of the dress you were wearing.

it barely covered your thighs, he noticed as you walked past him to reach the bar and order a most likely alcoholic drink.

with a sigh, he ran a hand through his soft hair, leaning back in his chair — manspreading. he made a mental note of how incredibly flirty your smirk was as you spoke to the bartender. your manicured hands reaching for the glass that had been placed in front of you, adorned with gold rings that glittered under the blinding lights.

hell, he was completely infatuated with you.

It wasn't the first time he'd seen you. his friends had dragged him to that club at least three times, and to his surprise, you were always there. he then learned that you frequented that place often, and magically he started to do so too.

every time your eyes met, and you promptly flashed him a small smirk, he felt that all too familiar stir in his pants. maybe it was him getting all worked up too quickly — or you being too hot.

he was dying to talk to you, to be able to touch that skin that seemed so soft. you seemed as innocent as absolutely dirty, with an hidden side that was just waiting for the right person to be able to let it out and unleash it. and he knew for sure what he would give to be able to do it.

in a moment of sudden confidence, he decided to approach you slowly. you were still leaning against the counter of that bar, your plump lips tightened around the drink straw while your attentive eyes scrutinized every detail of the place around you.

“It's the fourth I've seen in your hands”

his voice was loud enough to be heard over the music blasting through the club, his eyes searching yours.

"excuse me?" you raised an eyebrow, turning your face slightly so that you could meet his insistent gaze. your voice was like a sweet caress for Matt's hearing, but at the same time like a constant challenge.

“this is the fourth I've seen you drink” Matt rephrased, a small smirk graced his thin lips as he leaned on the counter next to you, letting your arms touch for a brief moment.

“are you spying me?” you asked rhetorically, a small drop of sarcasm in your tone as you let your eyes scan his face.

“spying isn't the word I would use” matt licked his lips, pausing for a moment to think about what to say next. “I would say that enjoying the view is more appropriate”

you let out a small ad low chuckle, turning your body completely in his direction, arms crossed under your breasts — widening the neckline of your dress. “I'd say I noticed it”

"oh yeah?" matt tilted his head curiously, letting his eyes fall on your breasts which were inevitably seeking his attention. “that means you were looking at me too,” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

“what if I was?”

he poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, letting his amused smirk widen slightly. “I would be quite honoured”

“don't you often get looked at by girls?” you bit your bottom lip, running a hand through your hair.

matt rolled his eyes playfully, nodding. “of course it happens to me” he gestured slightly to his body, stating the obvious. “just not from someone as sexy as you” he added.

“mhm,” you murmured, leaning a little closer to him — making his heart skip a beat. “sexy like me?”

“yeah” matt nodded, swallowing that small lump that had formed in his throat, risking and reaching out towards the strap of her dress, starting to play with it slowly. “clearly you know you're sexy as hell, but what you probably don't know is what I would do to you right now.”

“what if I actually knew?” you were playing hard to get, but his touch made you want to collapse that little act of yours and immediately give in to temptation.

“all that remains is to show you, then.” matt shrugged, letting his index finger drop towards your collarbone. “I prefer facts”

“yeah?”

“yeah.” he chuckled, his hand sliding down on your waist as he pulls you much closer, your chest touching his. “but you won’t need much effort. just sit there and look pretty”

“we’ll see about that”

at that point, you took his hand in yours, and the last thing matt knew was that you were quickly dragging him to the nearest bathroom.

143 notes · View notes

ominous-auburn-orbs · 4 months

Note

Here's a writing idea for you, but you don't have to do it

Kinger of Hearts hosts a big ass party celebrating his birthday, gets drunk from the wine and tried to get ✨frisky✨ with Mad Caine(whether he succeeds or not it's up to you)

HEY WHAT'S UP GUYS I'M BACK

Y'know I kinda feel like my works have been getting less and less family friendly over time-

ANYWAY this is set after Queenie's takeover attempt, so Caine and Kinger are together. (I can't be bothered to explain any unknown lore so. Just go with it for my sake)

Oh and wonderland au by @obamerzslop

It had been nearly a month since Queenie's defeat. Everyone was still admittedly shaken, although also more at ease, knowing that they were now truly safe. It was Kinger of Hearts' birthday, meaning there was a large celebration held. Most of the people there were acquaintances and colleagues more than anything, considering the party wasn't even the king's idea, but rather something viewed as a necessity. The only person there that he actually liked was Mad Caine, due to his connection as the jester, along with his advisor, Rabbit Ragatha. Kinger had insisted none of his other friends go, as they wouldn't enjoy it. It didn't feel like it was actually for him, anyway. Pomni, however, had suggested they should still do something separate to celebrate later, which the king was very much looking forward to.

Caine stood near the wall, somewhat unsure around all of the people he failed to recognise. The odd dodo or flower person he'd seen once or twice before at other royal events, but nothing more than that. He had already done his performance at this point, which had been relatively well received, if only because everyone there knew how much Kinger of Hearts valued the jester. They were all far too uptight to truly enjoy Mad Caine's routines, as amusing as they were. He was believed to have a lower class role, making him unworthy of being as close to the king as he was. There was power in the role of jester. Power that they could never achieve.

While better acquainted with the guests, Ragatha was just as uncomfortable. Seeing Caine in the distance, she approached, a genuine smile on her face, which was a rare sight at such events.

"Mad Caine!" She called out as she went to stand beside him. "Your performance was rather good. How are you doing?"

His features relaxed. "Thank you, my friend! I'm not doing too bad myself! How about you?"

Rabbit Ragatha let out a loud sigh. "These events are so very tedious. I know it's already been a month since... everything, but I still feel like I'm in desperate need of a nap." She chuckled quietly. "I wish Kinger of Hearts would realise that he doesn't need to put up this facade anymore, if he ever even needed to in the first place. I think it's still instinct for him to put up this mask for his own safety."

Caine crossed his arms and looked down, concerned. He couldn't bear the thought of Kinger thinking he needs to pretend to be someone he's not. He loved the real Kinger with all his heart, and he wanted to see him happy as well. Assessing his worried posture, Ragatha's eyes softened.

"Maybe you could convince him not to lie so much anymore. While I am his advisor, with something like this, he's a bit more likely to listen to his boyfriend." She gave Caine a friendly nudge as he blushed lightly.

"Haha! Maybe..." He thought about it further. Even if Kinger didn't listen, it was worth a try. He could find a way to convince him regardless. "I'll see what I can do, Raggy!"

Ragatha looked embarrassed by the nickname, as while it was sweet, it wasn't something she necessarily wanted to be called in such a professional environment. Caine looked away and saw Kinger talking with someone he hadn't seen before, and it didn't look like a conversation the royal was particularly enjoying. After quickly informing Ragatha that he would be 'back in a jiffy', he set off towards Kinger, determined to save him from the annoying situation. It was his birthday, after all!

When he reached the king, Mad Caine lightly touched his hand. His liking for physical touch was well known, so it wasn't nearly enough physical affection to raise questions, although it was still the king he was touching.

"Happy birthday, Your Majesty! Are you enjoying yourself?" With a clear look of disdain, the other person left. Kinger of Hearts relaxed significantly and his voice lowered in volume.

"Far more now that you're here." Seeing Ragatha, he glanced around before fully grasping Caine's hand and walking over. "You know, I believe that's the seventh time today you've said 'happy birthday' to me."

"And I'll say it again, my love!" Kinger's eyes widened, worrying greatly about anyone else hearing. For his sake, Caine became quieter, but that didn't mean he liked it. "My dear, Queenie is dead. You don't need to fear her overthrowing you again. You can be yourself now. And if anyone goes against you, then I say that gives you plenty of reason to execute them!"

Kinger smiled, although there was still doubt in his eyes. "You're probably right, but it still feels... wrong. I've been like this for so long, I don't know how to rule as anyone else." Some heads turned to watch the pair with curious looks, but Mad Caine gently rubbed his thumb across Kinger's hand to keep him from seeing.

"I understand, but that doesn't mean I'll start agreeing with you on that any time soon." The two finally reached Ragatha as Kinger gave a chuckle that shook his shoulders. His advisor was somewhat absorbed in her own thoughts, surprised by how relaxed she was. By how relaxed they all were compared to past times like this. As horrible as the whole situation with Queenie had been, it had finally gotten rid of the ever-looming threat that she had once been.

"Your Highness," Ragatha greeted him with a noticeable hint of sarcasm, "is everything to your liking?"

Kinger sighed heavily. "All I'll say is that I'm going to need plenty of wine to get through this." Ragatha nodded and bowed, a glimmer in her eyes like she was about to tell a joke at any moment.

"I'll fetch you a glass."

Hours later, Kinger of Hearts had stayed true to his word, having downed several glasses at that point. Most of the more distinguished guests had filed out, with mainly guards and captains left, as well as other drunkards that they had to remove. Despite how most people and tables had been cleared away, the room felt far less empty with mainly just the trio standing in it. Kinger swayed a little on his feet, with Ragatha and Caine attempting to keep him upright. The two shared knowing glances, silently deciding that it would be best to completely finish the festivities. Before Mad Caine could suggest this to Kinger, however, the king spoke to him with a highly flirtatious tone.

"Heyyy, gorgeous~ you- you come 'round here often?" Ragatha put a hand to her mouth to try and muffle her snickers, while Caine gave Kinger a soft smile.

"Kinger, it's me, Mad Caine!" For the king's sake, he gave a quick glance to the guards, but they were busy removing a passed out accountant from the premises. "Your boyfriend?"

Kinger's eyes widened exponentially. "Woah... that's good. Vvvvery good." He cupped Caine's teeth with his hand. "Y-you're reeeeally pretty..."

The chess piece was mesmorised and Caine could feel his face heat up. Ragatha composed herself enough to put a gentle hand on Kinger's back.

"Your Majesty, you're drunk. You should go to bed." She looked to Mad Caine. "I can help you escort him there."

Caine, however, could clearly see the exhaustion on Ragatha's face, and refused to let her work any longer. "No, my dear! You need to rest for once. I have everything perfectly under control!" With that, Kinger rested his head on the top of Caine's teeth, abruptly shutting them.

Ragatha tried and failed to contain her laughter at Caine's muffled speaking while he tried to open his mouth again. She helped lift Kinger off of the hatter, smiling down at him. "Let me at least help get his Majesty out of here. Then I'll take a break."

Mad Caine agreed to these terms, and the two led Kinger of Hearts out and towards his room. They got halfway down the hall before Caine remembered that Ragatha had promised to rest, so he sent her to her chambers nearby. When the rabbit refused, insisting on helping further, Kinger of Hearts slurred out a threat to execute Ragatha if she didn't rest. She finally agreed, bidding Kinger good night and Caine good luck.

The hatter continued to walk with Kinger, holding one of his hands and with his other hand on the king's back. Kinger turned to face Caine, staring at him for a moment before speaking. "I love yoouuu."

Caine couldn't help but blush as a smile appeared on his face. "I love you too, my dear."

Kinger put a hand on Caine's waist and pulled him closer. "H-hey Caine, are you a flower? Be- because I wanna pollinate you~"

Mad Caine looked at the king in confusion for a moment before he remembered the biology of plant life. His teeth and gums became covered in a bright red as he began to stammer, his grip on Kinger's hand tightening.

"O-oh! Uh, I- l-let's just get you to your room!" He quickened his walking pace. The king's room was near the end of the hall, but he thankfully didn't have much further to go. Then the king would be able to sleep until he sobered up. While Kinger absent-mindedly matched his pace, he didn't stop flirting.

"Y-you're sooo cute... Hey, do- are you made of bees? Because yyyou're as honey as sweet..."

Mad Caine burst out laughing, although he did appreciate that Kinger tried. "Why, thank you, my dear." The hatter walked the king into his bedroom and sat him down on the bed. Before he could bid Kinger of Hearts goodnight, however, the king grabbed him and held him close, pulling Caine onto the bed with him.

Kinger kissed him repeatedly, and after a few moments, Caine returned the hug. He could tell that Kinger of Hearts was fighting sleep, so he decided to lay there with him, patiently waiting for Kinger to succumb to his exhaustion. Mad Caine adored these moments he had with Kinger, even if he would've preferred for the king to be sober, as it was something he had silently wished for for a long time. Eventually, he felt the kisses slow down and stop as Kinger finally fell asleep.

Caine let out a quiet sigh of both relief and content. He made a mental note to bring up their relationship and making it public once Kinger woke up, then drifted off himself, already excited to wake up next to Kinger in the morning.

#hey sorry I like died for a week my bad #I just needed a break #caine x kinger #royalteeth #kingleader #kinger x caine #tadc au

41 notes · View notes

ddostoyevskyy · 10 months

Text

LOVING THE MOON

ALTERNATIVE TITLE: WHEN THE NIGHT APPEARS

Dazai Osamu

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒... f!reader, suicide ideation, PM!reader, PM!Dazai, major character death, written in 1st person's point of view (use of I and me), romanticization of suicide, sensitive topics, reader is described long haired for plot purposes.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄... I feel worse, so I have to write it off. A short drabble. I'm sorry if this is nowhere near Dazai's character, I just need to get this out of my system before I kms. Don’t hesitate to request, my request box is always open:)

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒... 2.124k

MASTERLIST.

There is a boy I have watched from afar. A boy with brown, curly hair and dark eyes. I watched him through the shadows where I'm certain he can never see me through those bandages wrapped around his head, covering one of his vision. He's ruthless with his subordinates; despite his slender figure yet broad shoulders that was draped by his dark coat and set of bandages covering his arms where his longsleeve, white button-up shows — he can throw a hell of a punch and kicks.

Mori Ougai, as I remembered my boss' name assigned me to watch over his youngest executive in the darkness where I am always out of reach; my ability were as black as my clothes and the dark circles around my eyes because of the sleepless nights with countless nightmares and horrors of screams are always haunting me to sleep. Mori Ougai told me to be aware as the boy I've been watching from afar became more fearless and formidable.

And, I always told to myself that someone as strong as him is not fitted for the Port Mafia. He can be something more. His strength and capability of surviving in the middle of fights and gunfires are admirable, that I know I cannot do life like him nor survive in such thing called life. I watched him through the darkness where it looks like he is the light; the form of strength and beauty at the same time despite clouding with grey clouds that never rains.

I have heard of his ability and I think he can help me tame those beasts in my nightmares.

But, I think he could only murder me in my sleep if I dare to.

He looks so out of reach despite being near in sight.

Moon.

That's what he reminds me of.

My whole world stayed still, heart pacing in such waves of emotions when one day, his dark eyes averted to the darkness where I've always been for the past four years since he and I were fifteen. My breath caught on my throat, but I held back my voice. His brown eyes held little to no emotion, but I could see a hint of confusion and amusement.

He saw me.

For the first time in my life, someone saw me despite hidden in the dark —hidden in the depths of my ability.

My silent gasp surely had reach his ears by the way he’s now intently looking at me without blinking, a slight smirk mused on his lips. “What do we have here? Are you real? I’m not hallucinating that there’s a pretty woman staring back at me, am I?”

The men in black glances at him with furrowed eyebrows as they averted their gazes to where the dark haired man staring at. That’s impossible, did he really saw me? Or maybe he’s really just hallucinating the way he called me... pretty. Nevertheless, I bit back my voice and stayed silent in the darkness of my ability, but his dark eyes never left me the whole time process of their assigned mission.

“Dazai?” A man’s voice appeared, Oda Sakunosuke, a Port Mafia member who never shot any bullet from his gun, a man with morals. His hair is dark maroon while his eyes are in a shade of sky blue with a stubble face. “Where are you looking at?”

He pointed in my direction as I stayed quiet. “Do we have a new Port Mafia member?”

Oda’s eyebrow furrowed, “None that I know. Why?”

“Is there any ability user who use shadows?”

“There’s one, I think the boss has been keeping and another high ranked like you, but I don’t really know any details. I was told this upper rank is only active at night.” Oda answered as he stared where Dazai has been looking too and I internally screamed. Did that man noticed me too? I’ve been hiding and watching him for four years, and now, he have taken notice of my presence.

“Do you see her? There,” Dazai pointed on my direction again as I shifted on my position, the darkness following me whenever I move, whenever I go and even in my sleep as they appear in my dreams. “She’s moving away, Odasaku! Let’s catch her.”

Shit! I hissed under my breath. Mori Ougai told me that if this man ever notice my presence, I should never face him.

But just like the moonlight shining through the darkness of the night, I can’t escape its light even if I hide through its own darkness; through its own shadows.

My breath were caught when a surprisingly warm hand despite his cold demeanor had caught my wrist as I abruptly stopped when a green dust of light appeared before my eyes and all those darkness I’ve been hiding from disappeared, the coldness I’ve felt for almost my whole life momentarily fading.

“See, I told you, Odasaku! I’m not hallucinating!” He said, enthusiastically and I frowned, a shaky sigh escapes my lips as I kept my head lowered while his fingers wrapped around my wrist in a firm grip. It was so warm as though soaked in a summer sun with an evident of rough fingertips that sent tingling jolts on my spine. Warm, that is only the thing on my mind.

Why don’t night can’t feel like this? Like the touch of his hand; like the sudden momentarily sparks of euphoria in my system. Night always feels cold and scary and I can’t enjoy the dose of the daylight because I’m always hiding in the dark. It burns in my skin as if my flesh is on flame as he tugged me near the sunlight as I hissed.

My eyes averted to the man with maroon hair as he stared back at me with furrowed eyebrows.

“(Name)?” My name escapes his lips and I pursed mine.

“You know her? (Name)?”

“I thought you were dead, (Name).” Dazai momentarily let go of my wrist, yet I felt him tug on the hem of my dark coat’s sleeve as Oda stepped closer to me. I have known him, Oda Sakunosuke. He’s also the reason why I am not eaten properly by my own ability and now he had found me once again.

“I thought so too... Sakunosuke.” My voice came off as whisper.

“You look worse than the last time I saw you,” He retorted and my lips formed in a small pout. He didn’t have to tell me the obvious, but I feel warmer than I expected as he put a hand on top of my head before softly patting. “But I’m glad, you’re alright.”

My lips softly parted as I breathed. He sounds like a father scolding his daughter now, and I don’t blame him for that.

I was too drawn to the moon that I never realized I finally liking the night.

Oda managed to pull me out of the darkness again with the help of him; the man who made me love the moon again. I can’t help but to appreciate such short time Dazai Osamu and I known each other — even though, I’ve known him for years, there’s nothing to compare to when he’s already been aware of my presence even in darkness. I viewed him as the moon — shining so bright in the dark, despite his dark eyes. Or maybe I’m just too lonely that I seek his warmth that he made me feel in just a touch of a hand.

I am addicted to the moon and its scent.

The sparkles of the moon in the dark sky is something I never adored. But this moment when Dazai and I coincidentally met on the rooftop of the Port Mafia’s headquarters. His scent alcohol mixed with cigarettes, both sending tingling sensation on my sense of smell.

“The boss told me I could find you here,” He leaned on the railings with both of his arms folded as I am seated at the edge of railings. “Penny for thoughts of a pretty lady?”

A random thought came across in my mind as I glance at him, his dark eyes already looking at me. Despite its hollow and emptiness, it sparkles under the bright full moon and it made my heart flutter as my gaze softened, my lips parting slowly as I licked my lips before I raise my arm, letting go one of my will to live as my other hand gripping the railings.

I finally caressed the moon.

My hand planted on his dark hair that was surprisingly soft in my fingertips. I could feel him halt on my touch as I grab a few strands of his hair covering his face.

“I want to cut my hair this short and I want to buy a pretty white dress, so I will look beautiful when I die.”

The moon is also looking back at me.

He turned completely silent as he stared at me, examining my face as his gaze hovers on my lips before his brown eyes came back to mine. He let me caress his hair as I brush it away from his handsome face.

“You’re drown to death too?” He muttered, voice basking with the wind as though caressing me in such a gentle manner — but there’s no gentle in his manners, nor mercy with his beauty caressed by the moon.

“Maybe,” I answered with honestly. “My life has been slipping away eversince Mister Mori asked me to watch over you. I have been stucked in my ability which conquers me to the darkness for all my life.”

The moon smiles at me.

Although, not a heartwarming smile, he gave me a smile that made my heart shivered.

“How do I look?” He grinned and my heart can’t do it anymore.

I called the moon pretty.

“Pretty.” I mindlessly said as his grin fade a little, his reaction really caught off guard but his smile came back again as he shook his head.

“Someone had called me bastard and stupid, but I never thought I will encounter someone who’ll call me something unexpected.” He marveled at the way my face flushed in shade of embarrassment as I pull my hand away from caressing his hair.

“(Name), if I give you a reason to live, will you take it and live with me?”

The moon gave me a reason to live.

My eyes darted on him, almost a glare with furrowed eyebrows as he anticipated my answer, but I fell silent like my sleepless night without my horrors of screams as though my nightmares are already calm, the waves of my emotions are already tamed; that I am no longer in the dark. He grabbed my wrist like he did when he had nullified my ability of darkness — tonight, he grabbed my wrist to pull me away from death.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

The only thing I could muster to say to the moon as it stared back at me with those dark eyes that held emotion I didn’t understand at first. But, when I realized it after he left — after a friend had died, I hid with the darkness again where I belonged before he pulled me into the light of his own darkness.

The moon brought light to me as it also push me to the pit of darkness again, darkness I called warmth as he gazed at me.

He made me love the moon; the moon that he is — illuminating and dominating against those multiple stars that I never noticed until my heart chose to. If that what makes him the moon, I can be the stars — shining in the dark sky and blinded in the moonlight. Both planets and orbits lined up in the universe and in the middle of it, there’s the moon that gave me the reason to live. I realized how much of an impact he emotionally gave me unconsciously.

The day he left, the day I appreciated the full moon; the moon that resembles Dazai Osamu — the mysterious man who made me leave the dark I am used to. And, the day he left, he brought my heart with him.

My moon.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

#bsd fics #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd fanfic #bungou stray dogs x reader #[❤️; niko’s oneshots]#bsd dazai #bsd dark era #pm dazai #dark era dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #dazai x you #dazai fluff #dazai imagines #dazai angst

104 notes · View notes

bedsyandco · 7 months

Text

Better Off • Emerson x Will AU

summary: in which it all comes crashing down :(

November 26 - Harvard University

Emerson shifted nervously in her chair, sending Rory a reassuring smile when she looked at her concernedly. Truth be told she was a bit on edge, she hadn’t been back to Harvard since she packed up her apartment and decided to transfer to BC. There were a lot of memories here that she didn’t want to remember and a lot of people she didn’t want to run into. There was one person in particular, she wanted to avoid more than the rest though. Her ex. Jason. But it would be impossible for her to ignore him completely tonight since he was going to be on the ice right in front of her.

She should’ve told Will. That her ex went here. That he played hockey. That he was going to be playing against him tonight. But she just couldn’t, not yet. Will viewed her a certain way. Strong. Beautiful. Confident. Special. Someone worth fawning over for months. She wasn’t ready for that perception he had of her to change yet. All she could do was hope that they didn’t run into each other too much during the game.

Unfortunately that wasn’t the case. Their lines were paired up against each other and it seemed like wherever Will went on the ice, Jason wasn’t far behind. Constantly breathing down his neck, slashing at his stick, checking him harder than necessary. About midway through the second period, he hit Will really hard against the boards and Will fell down to his knees. Finally having enough he got up and grabbed Jason by the collar of his jersey, pulling roughly to bring him closer.

“What the hell is your problem man? You’ve been up my ass the entire night.” Will asks, clenching his hands tightly in Jason’s jersey.

When Jason grabs the front of Will’s jersey roughly, Will could see both Gabe and Ryan skating closer, itching to get involved but stopping when he sends a look in their direction.

“I'm just playing the game, Smith. What…you thought you were gonna get pretty boy privileges? You and your girl have that in common I guess. If you can't handle playing with the big boys maybe go back to the program."

Obviously this guy knew things about Will, that he went to the program, that he's seeing you and that just pissed Will off even more because he knew nothing about this guy.

Before Will could respond the refs separated them and Will made his way to the bench, taking a seat between Ryan and Cutter. Ryan could see Will was pissed off and it was better just to leave him alone so he'd save his questions for later.

Will leaned closer to Cutter and asked, "who the hell is that guy?"

"You don't know?" Cutter asks

"Am I supposed to?" Will asks mildly annoyed, he wouldn't have asked if he already knew.

"That's Emmy's ex boyfriend. The one she had before she transferred to BC. His name is Jason Lockwood. Same age as me and Em. Look Smitty, don't let this guy get under your skin. It's not worth it." Cutter says and Will clenches his jaw, taking a deep breath.

Ryan, who eavesdropped on that conversation, knocks his knee into Will's and asks, "Want me to beat him up for you?"

"And what…get suspended for a few games?" Will asks amused

"It'd be worth it" Ryan mumbles and Will smiles

"Nah, it's what he wants. Besides, if anyone is gonna beat him up I want it to be me."

"I get it. At least if your pretty face gets ruined, Em can pay for your plastic surgery." Ryan responds with a grin.

"Fuck off," Will says elbowing him but smiles nonetheless. He knows Ryan was just trying to calm him down a little, and it worked.

BC won the game but Will was still too angry to be happy about it. He just needed to see Emerson. Why hadn't she told him about Jason? She should've known that he was going to figure it out eventually, especially if they're playing against one another.

Making his way out of the locker room, he walks down the hall, a smile appears on his face when he sees his girls' blonde hair, it's always one of the first things he notices about her. His smile dims slightly when he sees the name on the back of her jersey. "Gauthier" She still wouldn't wear his jersey. Will's smile disappears completely when he gets closer and sees who she's talking to.

Emerson sighs when she sees Will approaching. This night couldn't possibly have gone any worse.

"Hey," she says to Will but his attention is solely focused on the man standing across from them.

"Are you gonna formally introduce us?" Jason asks and Em swallows thickly.

"Um- this is Will, a friend of mine." Em says, not meeting Will's eyes as she speaks. Her friend.

"And this is Jason, my-" Emerson was busy speaking, but Jason cut her off.

"Her boyfriend." he says

"Ex boyfriend." Both Em and Will corrects him simultaneously.

"Right, my bad. It's a habit." Jason says, looking Em up and down. "You look better in crimson than whatever that colour is"

"It's maroon and-" she starts responding but he cuts her off again.

"Anyway, I need to go. It was nice seeing you. Send my love to your parents, we should have lunch when they're in town again." Jason says and leaves before Emerson can respond.

"God, that guy is a piece of work" she says but Will doesn't respond, still processing what just happened.

"Will-"

"Not here. We can talk about it tonight, at your place. Drive safe," he says and kisses her temple before walking towards the exit.

A few hours later when Will arrives at her place, he takes a few seconds to collect himself outside the door.

There were so many thoughts going through his mind. He just couldn't get the image of her and Jason out of his head. He was the complete opposite of him, both in looks and personality. And if she could introduce a guy like that to her parents and be with him publicly, why couldn't she do the same with Will? Why didn't Will meet the standard? Why was he allowed to have the boyfriend label and Will was referred to as her friend. What more could he do to convince her that he was worthy of all that. Worthy of her.

He knocked and slipped past her when she opened the door, to sit on the couch, elbows resting on his knees.

"You didn't bring a bag. You're not spending the night?" Emerson asks softly, padding her way over to the couch and sitting next to him, leaving distance between them.

"Friends don't spend the night," the words spill out of Will's mouth before he can stop them.

"Will I…" she trails off, not knowing how to respond. How to explain. How to apologise.

"I just…I don't understand. I thought you wanted to be with me. Is this whole thing just one sided?" Will asks running his hand through his hair

"No, of course not."

"No? Then why does it feel like it is? Do you even care for me at all? Love me? Like me? Tolerate me? God knows that I can't tell what your feeling when you kiss me when we're alone and act as if I don't exist in public" he says

"You think I don't care about you?" she asks, disbelieving.

"I don’t know, you’ve never said it and even if you did, I don’t think I’d believe it. Your actions are certainly not showing it. You never told me you went to Harvard, I heard that from someone else and I still don’t know why you transferred. I feel like I don't know you at all. You know all my friends, I mean half of them practically live on your couch and yet you don’t want your friends to know we’re dating even though they probably already know cause the guys can’t keep their mouths shut. You have lunch with my sister weekly and you text my mom regularly but you won’t tell your parents that we’re dating, nevermind introduce me to them. I’ve been trying really hard to be patient and let you take things at your own pace but at this point it feels like I’m waiting for things that are never gonna happen."

Emerson tries to discreetly wipe all of her tears, knowing that Will needed to say what he needed to say and that he'd stop if he knew it hurt her.

"I would never want you to feel the way I'm feeling right now. If I ever disrespected you, like you've disrespected me multiple times over the past few weeks, I would beg someone to knock some sense into me." he says voice cracking at the end, and Em covers her face with both hands, trying to contain her sobs.

Will wipes a hand over his face, taking a deep breath, and pulls her onto his lap, rubbing her back up and down soothingly.

"Don't console me, I don't deserve it" she sobs into Will's neck

"That's the thing about loving someone princess, you do it even if they don't deserve it." he says and feels more tears soak his skin.

"I'm sorry," she croaks out after a few minutes. "For everything,"

"I know, baby. I'm sorry too. And I know you never meant to hurt me. But I also don't think you're ready to change anything yet, and I don't think I can do this anymore." Will says and she takes in a shuddering breath.

After a few minutes, she removes her head from his neck and stands up, moving to get a tissue from the table and wipe her face, trying to compose herself a little.

"I'll uh- come by later to get my stuff, or send one of the guys" Will says softly from behind her.

The tears choke her up again and she can't respond so she just nods even though she's facing away from him and he can't see it.

Will tightly wraps his arms around her from behind and kisses her shoulder, and then her neck and then finally her cheek before letting go and making his way out the apartment. Out of her life.

Their relationship had ended before it had even really begun, and Emerson didn't know if she'd just made the biggest mistake of her life by letting Will walk out that door, but perhaps he would be better off.

#❥ — ꒰ emerson + will ꒱

120 notes · View notes