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#so i just go with “feel good future au”
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Winter's King 17
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: I have a house now. One more month until move in.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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You leave the queen, stepping into the gales that whip around the outer flap of her tent. You reach to keep your cap from flying into the violent winds, the soldiers with their chins down as they lean against the force. Before you can gain your bearings, a shadow appears and calls your name, battling the weather to be heard. 
“Eh, where is your cloak, silly mouse? You will blow away with the leaves,” Bryce approaches, latching onto your arm as the bluster swirls around you, nearly taking you off your feet. 
“I am fine, sir, I only need find a blanket,” you stumble against him as another willful gust pushes you around.  
“That isn’t what I asked. What has happened to it? You’ve lost it?” 
“The queen was cold, sir,” you answer and cling to him, shivering as the tempest swirls around you. 
“The queen... greedy...” his voice trails off as her sneers towards the tent. 
“Sir,” you touch his arm gently to calm him, “she needs it more than I. She is expecting the king’s child.” 
He looks at you and juts out his jaw, “aye, s’pose you’re right, even if you’re too kind for yer own good.” 
He turns you and grips you tightly, shielding you as best he can against the wind. Your progress is slow and stunted by the sudden ebbs and flows. He grunts as you stagger and steadies you, at times almost lifting you off your feet. 
“Sir Bryce,” a deep voice slices through the whistle of the winds, “a storm approaches.” 
The king nears, his sword gripped by the pommel as he leans it against hit shoulder. His golden eyes flick towards you, as if he had not seen you in the shadow of your escort. He raises his chin and returns his attention to the soldier. He angles his blade to the ground and the tip buries in the dirt. 
“Aye, it surely does,” Bryce agrees, “I’ve seen a worst tempest in my years.” 
“Sir,” Geralt holds out his hands and a glisten appears on his sleeve. You lean in without a thought, curious, then feel a cold speck on your nose. You look up and see the white flakes drifting down. “It will not remain so peaceful. It comes from the north and will deepen by morning.” 
“Shall we wake the camp?” Bryce asks and you sway with the wind. Once more, the king’s attention strays to you, he frowns. 
“Not as yet. Let the horses rest a little longer. They will be able to handle a dusting,” he affirms. “but I will harry the men to prepare for our departure.” 
“As will I. I’ll be certain the carts are covered and weighted.” 
“Sir, ever wise,” King Geralt praises and scowls at you. He shakes his head and huffs, “why does the maid wear no cloak? She will not survive in this, summer soul, she is.” 
“Aye, yes, I was only just telling her as much. Seems her heart is too big for her thin hide,” Bryce tuts, “we were only off to find her a blanket before she sleeps.” 
“Blanket, eh,” the king lets go of his blade, letting it stand in the ground. He unbuckles his collar and sweeps his cloak from around his shoulder, “I have my hunting cloak and I don’t mind the snow so much.” 
Before you can react, the king lays his heavy cloak over your shoulders. It is longer than your height requires and it smells of sweat and iron. You lower your head at the warmth clinging to the lined wool. 
“Your highness, many thanks, but I might find a blanket--” 
“Do not defy your king,” Bryce rebukes, “mouse, you would do well to accept his grace. You will certainly need it if these winds do not pass.” 
“Apologies,” you utter, “sir, your highness, you are both generous.” 
King Geralt grumbles and nods, looking once more to the sky as he grabs his sword. 
“The Ridge, Vulture’s Peak... it isn’t far. The castle will do, eh?” 
“Not far at all, your highness,” Bryce agrees. “It would do you well to let your wife rest. Many congratulations, my king.” 
“Congratulations? For what? Smelling a storm?” the king furrows his brow. 
“Oi, I think I’ve said too much,” Bryce glances at you. 
“Say more,” the king commands. The soldier sighs and sheepishly shows his teeth.  
“Please, maid, would ya...” He mutters. 
“Your highness, the queen said she is with child,” you swallow, “I only just came from her tent. I believed you were aware. I did not mean to gossip.” 
“Child,” his eyes sink and close. He hums and heaves a deep breath, “yes, she would need to be still a time.” 
“Your highness, again, you have my apologies--” 
“No matter,” the king waves his hand. “Take the maid, I shall see to my wife.” 
The king resumes his path onward, sword in hand. He hardly shares in Jazlene’s cheer for the news. Perhaps it is only the threat of the storm that has him unhappy.  
You bring your hands to the dark fur along the collar of the cloak and draw it snug. You chatter and Bryce clucks. He nudges you and you walk forward in step. 
“So the snows have come,” Bryce declares, “along with the heir. I sense many storms brewing, mouse. Best keep our eyes on the horizon.” 
⚔️
You don’t sleep for long, if at all. Only the shallow dregs of your anticipation. You watch the snow fall from beneath the canopy and as the horses are roused and fed before dawn, a carpet coats the ground. 
You peer down at the powder. You wonder what it feels like. Cold and wet, Bryce says, but don’t dirty your soles, you’ll be soaked. He remains, as ever, cynical. 
“Be off soon,” he says as he brings Daisy around, a thick coat over her back and haunches. 
“To Vulture’s Peak?” You ask. 
“Aye, so we will,” he pets Daisy’s snout as she sniffs him. “though our host may not be so fond to have us.” 
“Host? It is not the king’s castle?” 
“Ha, no, no,” Bryce laughs heartily, “a king can’t live on a desolate bluff. By fealty, a lord must break bread and offer a roof to his king. It might be his company which has him facing a cold welcome.” 
“Oh,” you frown. 
“Ah, even this old coot won’t deny us in the coming storm. He has sense of these better than any,” Bryce shrugs. “Don’t worry your head. You stay in your cart and Daisy will do the rest. She’s a fine climber--” 
“Out of my way!” The curdling snarl interrupts the soldier and you both look to see the source. “Move, by gods, I am the queen, be away from me.” 
You get to your knees, leaning on the edge of the wagon to see out from under the canopy. A scatter of bodies split apart as Queen Jazlene struts through, the fur cloak rippling from her shoulders and the hood set back on her head as her curls spill out. She sneers at the snow beneath her slippers. 
“Ah, I did hear there was a cart around here—ugh, out,” she points as she marches up to the cart, “by royal right, I am seizing this cart.” 
“Eh,” Bryce moves closer, “your highness, the king--” 
“I cannot sit a horse, sir,” she rests her gloved hand over her stomach. “Or would you murder the future prince with your selfishness. All for a--” she pauses and glowers over at you, rolling her eyes. “A maid?” 
You rise and snatch up the cloak you’d used as a blanket. You keep bent under the low canopy and climb out with the cushion under your arm. 
“Sir, the queen is right, she should have the cart, I will sit with the luggage.” 
He huffs and sends a grimace to the sky, unable to direct his malice towards its source, “if she must...” 
“I must!” The queen snaps and yanks the pillow from your hands, “I will need this, certainly.” 
You stand aside, staring at the pillow dolefully, and buckle the top of your cloak. The queen pauses as she faces you. She looks you up and down. 
“Where did you find this then?” She touches the collar of the cloak. 
“It is my spare cloak,” Bryce insists before you can answer, “what else do you require, your highness? Shall we bring a lamb to sacrifice?” 
“Hm, is that how you northerners worship?” She sneers, missing his irony. 
He blinks dully and says nothing. 
“Well, secure the horse, I will need to be drawn.” 
“It is my horse,” Bryce insists, “you may bridle your own.” 
“You dare deny me?” She snarls at him as the soldiers with her stand on either side of the cart. 
“You may take it up with your husband. This is my steed, she carried me to war and she will carry me henceforth,” he snips. 
Bryce and Jazlene glare at each other. You look between them nervously. You don’t know who King Geralt might choose in this battle should he be called. 
“Fine, fetch the stinky thing,” Jazlene demands of one of the soldiers, “and blankets, another pillow, perhaps something to eat.” 
The cast of the sky shifts with the first light of the sun and Bryce grabs both horses and leads them aside. He whistles for you to follow. You come to him as Chestnut and Daisy cluelessly puff into the cold air. 
“You will ride. I will not have that... queen seizing my horse,” he sniffs, “I will show you how once I’ve saddled the mare.” 
“Oh, yes, sir.” You look up at the horses back. It seems very high. 
“You will want to be aback anyhow,” he shrugs, “you’ll not want to miss the mountain. It is very beautiful, especially in the snow.” 
⚔️
The party continues onward, treacherously. As the snow falls, the train diverts away from the flats and onto the narrow paths speckled with broken trunks and towering trees. The smell of pine tickles your nose as you ascend, bit by bit. 
It takes some time to grow used to the motion of the horse. Daisy’s hooves are certain and she does not slip on even the most precarious spots. Bryce rides behind you, booming about each nook and cranny, pointing out the white rabbits and the wilted fauna. His enthusiasm is unexpected but endearing. 
You ride until the moon replaces the sun and dismount along the side of the great cliff. There is no room here to pitch a tent and only a few fires burn along the ridge. Your hips ache as the soldier grunts about his back. 
“I should see to the queen,” you suggest as you rub your hands together. 
“She must have many fawning over her,” Bryce spits out a wad of leaves and squashes it under his feet. 
“I am her maid--” 
“And we are on a long road. She might go without you minding her temper,” he snarls. 
You frown, “I am not upset. She needs the cart more than me.” 
“It isn’t that which sees me chagrined,” he growls. “It’s those deeds you will not admit of that traitor’s daughter which make me prickle.” 
You’re quiet. You look away, your eyes wandering up into the sky, watching the snow swirl down, following it down to the ground far below. The heaps are immaculate in the moonlight and the trim of white along the ridge gleams. 
“I am a maid.” 
“I know little of your summer people but if that is how they treat those who serve them, perhaps this alliance was not so wise,” he grumbles as he steps up beside you, “perhaps it would’ve been better to submit such cruel nobles.” 
“Sir,” you say, shocked and peer over at his profile. His beard has grown to meet his cloak, his hair coiling down to his shoulders. 
“I serve my king, as I ever will, but I will not bend the knees to a snake,” he hisses and crosses his arms. 
“We are united, aren’t we? Summer and Winter,” you reach to touch his thick hide mitt. 
“Aye, yes, I do not seek another battle,” he exhales. “I am only wary of those who may.” 
You squint. Your mind returns to Lord Dustan and what he said to his daughter. The heir is their prize, an affirmation of the bounty earned by their betrayal, but also a chain to that very act. To the man they forsook their name for. A man they speak as kindly on as they had their former allies. 
“Might I walk?” You draw your hand from his. “My legs are sore.” 
“Not too far. And keep your eyes open,” he girds, “and your hands in your cloak. You needn’t frostbite.” 
You nod and he turns to you. He pulls up the hood of your cloak and pats your shoulder. 
“Tarry too long and I’ll look for you,” he warns. 
“Sir,” you shift slowly and step past him. 
You trod higher up the incline as you marvel over the edge. Bodies huddles together beneath cloaks and blankets, nestling for warmth against the wall of the cliff. You carry on and stop near a luggage cart, close to the drop. You hold out your hand, letting snow gather in your palm. It is cold, bitterly and painfully cold, but so beautiful. You bring it closer and watch it slowly melt as your hand numbs. 
“Do you remember...” the king’s voice drawls over you as his soft steps approach. “What I told you of this place?” 
You look at him. He is lit by the moonlight, his golden eyes like stars, and his jaw is bristly with thickening stubble. You bow your head, “your highness, are the bears already asleep in their caves?” 
He chuckles, “you do recall,” he praises, “not yet, though they do not come this high.” 
“And the wolves? Are they near?” 
“They are always prowling,” he says, shifting closer, his arm pressing to yours. He bends slightly to peer straight down, “the elk will be in the forests.” He points to the snowcapped tips of the distant trees, “here, the vultures have their nests. Their eggs,” he curves his hands to show the size, “I made a writ, years ago. It is forbidden to eat the eggs. I always found it quite tragic to desecrate the majestic creatures before they can even be borne. Before they can fly even.” 
“Vultures? I’ve never seen one? They are... birds?” 
“Yes, birds,” he confirms.  
He is silent as he considers his kingdom below. His breath is gritty as it rises and falls. He has much to think on. A child, a wife, and his homecoming delayed by a storm. 
“One thing has changed here, in these lands of winter,” he says lowly and you feel a ripple in your cloak. He presses his hand firmly to your back, sliding it along your side to grasp your hip. He moves to stand behind you and brings you close. He wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your crown, “I said before, there is no summer here,” he holds you, pulling his cloak around you, concealing you within it as he drapes himself around you, “summer is here. With me. Warm and gentle.” 
You go rigid as he holds you, your heart beating at the unexpected embrace, at the unseemly contact between you. He hums as he stands with you in the shadows of the cart, so brazenly covert. Anyone might happen upon you and yet they all hide away from the storm. 
“Your highness,” you stammer and quiver against him. 
“Treasure,” he purrs, “my treasure. The one good thing I’ve brought home...” 
You can’t breathe or think. Is he drunk? Confused? What does he mean? 
“I--” he begins but the kick of a rock quiets him, the stone bouncing off the cart’s wheel. 
A shadow stalks down the precipice towards you and the king detaches, uncovering you from his cloak. He faces the figure as the tramp up the incline. You hear the king shudder as he tickles your back. 
“There’s the mouse,” Bryce says as he comes into the moonlight, his brow and jaw set, though he doesn’t look at you. He looks at the king, almost defiant. “You shouldn't be out so long in the cold. Exposed,” he grits, “come, I’ve sparked us a fire.” 
King Geralt clears his throat, “thank you, sir.” 
“My king,” Bryce says as he beckons to you, “I will keep the maid safe. As you bid.” 
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yuri-is-online · 13 hours
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Was Lilia more “Oh my thorn fairy I have another child?! I can barely cast a spell as of now and future me wants a fucking KID?! AT THAT AGE?!”
Or more of a
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I HAVE ANOTHER SON?! AND IT’S FROM ME!?
If his Yutu tells him he comes from the future? Because it could imply he does regain his remaining years and magic. Idk how you wrote that problem that even rn it’s giving talk about Lilia surviving book 7 or not.
If it’s the second I already see him passing by Silver’s room really excited and saying “YOU HAVE A BROTHER!” And zooming off, leaving a very confused Silver and thinking he refers to either Malleus or Sebek.
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technically anon asked first but this ask is much longer so it was awkward to screenshot for an answer. Here is the link the anon used for reference, I obligated as an elderly hater to let you know it's from SAO. Anon's idea is extremely good and we're going to roll with it for this Yutu's Uniqe Magic because you know he was always going to be a little shit.
notes: they/them used for Yuu, context on the fyuuture kid au can be found here and here. SPOILERS FOR: Book 7, Lilia's back story, and Silver's unique magic. Please engage with this in mind. For more fyuutre kid au, please check out the series section of my masterlist.
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I have a bit of difficult time writing for Lilia given how much older he is than the rest of the cast, so I tend to write his Yuu as being a bit older themselves. Maybe they had an extremely difficult childhood and connected with Lilia over their shared sense of robbed innocence. Whatever it was I think this Yuu has a bit of a fascination with creatures of the night and a lot of their weirdo reputation within their community comes from kids telling each other that Yuu and Yutu are vampires. That makes me tempted to say Lilia! Yutu's real name is Alucard or Sebastian, something vaguely vampire themed.
None of those rumors are helped by Yutu finding himself very lethargic when out in the sunlight or his preference for colder temperatures. From his perspective he can't exactly help being who he is, people should really just get over themselves and let him do his thing. It's not his fault that bats really seem to like him for some reason, the neighbors are exaggerating Mr. Animal Control officer he swears.
Because he prefers to spend his awake hours in the dark, he is waaaaay too comfortable doing things and going places he shouldn't. He's real familiar with all the abandoned buildings and sketchy alleys of your town and has tagged quite a few of them. I like the idea of Lilia! Yutu being really interested in street art and Graffiti. I could see him putting up a bunch of bats everywhere and getting in a bunch of trouble for it. He has very fond memories of Yuu letting him paint murals on portions of their house in an effort to meet him halfway. He might like a good prank but unlike his father Yutu is always pulling his punches with Yuu.
Lilia didn't exactly have a supportive parent while he was growing up, something I feel like Yuu remembers and is very conscious of in their parenting of Yutu. Unfortunately for Lilia they also remember that he had another child and was a lot older than them, something Yutu raises several eyebrows at and causes him to ignore the things Yuu tries to tell him about his "great sense of humor" and "desire for different peoples to learn and grow with one another-" yeah that's great can you back up a bit to where you said he had another family? Yutu goes through life thinking he was the product of an affair Yuu had with a much older, married man who was just trying to feel young again. The amnesia stuff... sometimes he wonders if his dad tried to have Yuu killed. He never says it out loud because something tells him he's wrong, but gut feelings aren't as trustworthy as statistics...
So you can imagine his surprise when he tumbles out of a coffin and is told that his dad was a faerie general bound in service to a family of dragons, veteran of an ancient war, and technically the adoptive father of the Prince of the children of the night and the Prince of the rival human kingdom that killed his best friends. One of which is alive and overwhelmed with joy to meet him. Silver wanted Yutu almost as badly as Lilia and Yuu did so to see him alive and awkwardly squirming in his arms? Silver hasn't cried this much since they lost Lilia and Malleus.
Having a proper older brother, not just the concept, is an extreme change for Yutu. He's used to it just being him and Yuu, and he was sort of expecting Silver to hate him just for existing. Nothing could be further from the truth, Silver wants his younger brother to have the same freedoms he did while attending school but he also respectfully requests that Yutu spend at least some of his free time with him. He tried desperately to find his dreams over the years and was never able to make firm contact, but he doesn't want to pressure Yutu into caring about him. Yutu is didn't realize how badly he wanted other family members until he got to have Silver, he's even willing to take up sword fighting so they can get closer.
Sebek is also overwhelmed with tears upon seeing Lilia! Yutu. He is a bit harsh on him for "not living up to Master Lilia's legacy" because he doesn't know anything about fighting. He does applaud him for his willingness to learn. Yutu thinks Sebek is hilarious and messes with him just as much as Lilia does. Something Sebek is completely willing to let him do because it makes him feel like Lilia never left.
All of the Yutus get to see some of the photographs Yuu left behind, but Lilia! Yutu is especially interested in them. He makes a small photo album of all the ones he can find of his dad, especially ones where he's with Yuu and Silver. He's partially driven by guilt for thinking his father was a terrible person, but really he just wants to feel closer to him. He's half fae, and sure he has Sebek to talk about that with but what he really needs is a connection with his father. Yutu doesn't really care about being a faerie. He just cares about his dad's acceptance, everything else can go hang.
I don't have a name for his unique magic, but going off of anon's idea it allows him to overwhelm his target's mind, forcing them to think about their greatest fears to the point they are convinced they are really going through it. Someone hates spider? All over their face and in their clothes. Crippling fear of failure? Suddenly that emotion is all they can focus on. And if it's a mindless creature like a blot phantom or a monster they become overwhelmed with the sensation that they are unable to breathe and about to die. Yutu can't control the illusion the person experiences so usually he tries not to use it on his classmates.
That changes when he goes into the past. Some rando want to shit talk Yuu? Nightmare. Macho NRC guy wants to rumble? Nightmare. Some random guy jumped out from behind him and yells "BOO!" Nightma-
If Yutu had been just a hair slower he would have been in extreme pain, the dangerous glint in those familiar ruby eyes scream that. The short fae smiles almost cruelly, advancing on him clearly upset even though Yutu has dropped the spell.
"Well now, that's no way to great a senior." Lilia's voice is strangely soothing, it occurs to Yutu that this is probably the first time his father has ever been angry at him and he can't help himself. He laughs,
"Yeah sorry about that." He makes sure to try and be cute about it, which helps to diffuse the tension some what. "You really scared me so it was all I could think to do."
Lilia is very impressed by Yutu's reflexes and control over his unique magic. He is even further impressed by how eager Yutu is to train with Silver. The kid has some real promise and fits into Silver and Sebek's dynamic better than Lilia could have dreamed of. He really hopes the two will benefit from having a relatively normal human friend their age to train with. Maybe he and Yuu will stick around and give him some piece of mind about the kids being in good hands when he's gone.
Yutu hanging around Diasomnia gives him an excuse to chat with Yuu more, not that he exactly needed it. Lilia sort of hates the way he's drawn to you, it feels unfair. Unfair to you to give you hope there could be something more and toy with your affections; unfair to him for life to finally allow him to realize what romantic love is like just in time to have to let it go. There is a bittersweet tone to all of your interactions that his housemates are a bit too socially awkward to pick up on but Cater does.
Yutu is surprised how much he likes Cater, he associates him with a terrifying monster he's had to fight multiple times, not a fun guy who is really determined to help his parents get together. And what's even better he's really chill when Yutu asks for stories about Lilia, he has a lot of them and a completely different perspective than his older brother allowing Yutu to glean some more insight to what his parents might have been thinking in the future.
He finds himself spending a lot of time with the pop music club, not as an official member though he's not great at carrying a tune. Kalim, Cater, and Lilia are glad to have another person to chill with, sometimes they'll play music and Yutu will draw something based off whatever noise they made. Cater wants to talk him into doing album art for them... you know if they ever get around to making a recording.
I think Yutu will only tell Lilia who he is if he has no choice. He wants to mess with the timeline as little as possible, but should a monster from his timeline appear in this one, say like an overblotted Yuu another asker was so nice as to bring up, well it's not like he says who he is. He just addresses the monster as his parent and has a very loud meltdown not wanting to fight them again. Something Malleus is more than willing to assist him with.
"Think nothing of it." Malleus's power is truly terrifying, Yutu is torn between sorrow that he wasn't on their side and relief he didn't overblot a second time. "You are Lilia's son yes? That makes you my subject, and a most precious one at that." Not that Yutu has avoided interacting with Malleus exactly, he's just found talking to him exceptionally awkward because well. He's not Yuu, he's very aware of how important Malleus is supposed to be. But the way he's looking at him now makes him think that maybe he was missing out on interacting with another older brother.
Something that's confirmed when he turns to see how big his father's eyes have gotten, the man is shaking as he stares at his face and flicks between him, Malleus, and Silver like he's staring at the most precious pieces of art in the whole universe.
As you brought up Lilia's survival isn't guaranteed, I did not solve that problem at all. I sort of just... wrote that Lilia would age more or less like a normal human and not really be able to use magic on par with what a fae would consider normal but would still be impressive to a human... so while Lilia might be a bit reluctant to show his face in Briar Valley he would still have enough years to have and raise Yutu. He might have actually died around the same time as Yuu if they had lived a normal life.
He is overwhelmingly excited at the thought of having another baby. Lilia might not know what to do with them but he does really like kids. What's harder for him to accept is his relationship with Yuu. Raising a child is something he's done before, being someone's long term partner is not. He is unused to feeling desirable, and unfamiliar with acting on his own desires. Sure Lilia might seem very free spirited, but much of his life has been dictated by a sense of duty. The thought of having something precious to him that chose him specifically of their own free will is... disarming. He's overwhelmed with how helpless you make him feel and how little he despises it.
Yutu's need to be accepted by his father is met and exceeded almost immediately. Lilia wants to cook a big family dinner for Yuu and all of his boys, something that Malleus politely rejects asking if he can instead show his Culinary Crucible skills off to Yutu (it's really so he can make babiest brother promise to never eat anything Paw Paw makes EVER) and it's all so normal Yutu almost forgets that he's listening to a practical god smugly tell him he knows all about edible weeds as his father flies around him cracking jokes and pinching his cheeks. His older brother is asleep on the couch waiting for the food to be done and his precious parent is helping his Uncle Sebek set the table, listening to him sniffle about how beautiful Master Lilia's family is.
Lilia might be practically retired, but his mind is still sharp. The information Yutu is able to pass on to him lands in good hands. When he tucks Yutu into bed that night, long after the boy has gone to sleep so as not to embarrass him he makes sure to take a good long look at the little miracle. He is beyond grateful Yutu exists, not even the Thorn Fairy could have given him a finer blessing (he'll have to make sure to tease you about that later, that's got to be a good pick up line) He will make sure that this risk his son has taken pays off, Lilia Vanrouge wasn't feared for no reason. Something it seems some foolish mortals need reminding of.
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patolemus · 19 hours
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Sterek fic recs: Time Travel AU Edition
As I promised @oldefashioned here is the start of my unending sterek fic reccing. I’ll go by category because this post will never end otherwise.
1. song of the phoenix by graveltotempo
In a last ditch effort to save Beacon Hills after everyone else has died, Stiles channels all of his energy and magic into cleansing the Nemeton and the magical core of the town. But he is more powerful than he knows, more connected to the Nemeton than anyone can guess, and a group of kids, teenagers and adults wakes up in the middle of the night ten years earlier with a second chance they didn't know they needed and a bond they don't understand. Stiles though? Stiles wakes up with a little more.
Notes: It's just. So good. It's kinda hard to explain but basically no one knows what's going on but at the same time it works. Kinda. They're working on it. Stiles is awesome in this, I especially love his relationship with the Hales, because of course I do. It's ongoing.
2. Twice And For All by novasillies
“Derek,” he said despite himself. The werewolf’s eyes sharpened. Scott gave him a distressed look. “Do I know you?” He asked tensely, and Stiles grinned in return. “Oh, no,” he answered, “Not yet.” - In which a well-timed conflict between the magic of the Ghost Riders and Stiles' spark sends him back to the day Scott got bitten. Stiles pointedly changes nothing and so God complexes, needlessly complex romantic drama, and pure, unbridled silliness ensue. (Updates every Thursday wink wonk)
Notes: This is to date one of my favorite time travel fics of all time, across multiple fandoms. Stiles in this one is just *chef's kiss*. Completely unhinged, I love him. Also, the sterek? Easily one of the best dynamics I've read. It's ongoing, only four chapters left!
3. Fly a Little Faster by mirrorkill
Everyone knows when you go back in time, you shouldn't step on an ant, just in case you accidentally kill your own grandparent or something. But what happens when you go back in time and, uh, accidentally interrupt the one event that apparently made the Grumpiest Alpha in Town into a ball of mindless manpain?  Well, if Marty McFly can do it, so can Stiles Stilinski. All he has to do is get Derek and Paige to fall in love before he gets pulled back to his own time. And before he makes anything worse. That's easy as pie, right? Right?
Notes: I liked this one because it's not the typical Stiles travels back in time after everyone else in the pack dies. It's got a different premise, still somewhat canon compliant (maybe??? canon enough), and it's amazingly done. It's complete.
4. Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill
"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them." ----- The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.
Notes: So good! Stiles is a traumatized bean and the Hales are just everything! It's complete.
5. The A Spark of Hope and the Butterfly Effect series by Phlinting
It's been eleven years since Scott was bitten by a feral werewolf and, despite his pack's many victories along the way, Gerard Argent's influence lives on. As the knowledge of the supernatural spread to the general population so did the hatred and fear of the unknown. The McCall pack has been picked off one by one and Stiles, Sheriff Stilinski, and Peter Hale are the only three left, on the run and barely surviving. But Stiles has found a spell. He has the magic, the spark, and his belief. He has his dad and Peter to help power it and he has the will and desperation to succeed. He's going back to the Hale fire and this time he's going to stop it ALL before it starts. It's the perfect solution. Too bad things never go quite according to plan...
Notes: The Sheriff and Peter are *chef's kiss* here! I really don't know how to explain all that happens here but it gets a little out of control in the best way. It's complete.
6. The The Long Way Round series by exclamation
A magical accident sends Stiles back in time. Now he's stuck in New York, living with Derek and Laura, and the only way to get back to his own time is to learn to use magic. Meanwhile, he must figure out how much he can tell them about their future. Can he warn them about the dangers they face? Can he change his own past?   And can he trust the creature known as Bookworm, who seems to know him better than he knows himself?
Notes: This series had me in a chokehold, I cried so much but it was absolutely worth it! Stiles doesn't plan to travel back in time on this one, this just... happen, and it all spirals a bit out of control. But don't worry! You may have no idea of what's going to happen, but the author certainly did and they did an amazing work. It's complete.
7. It’s Happening by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)
Derek stopped listening to him, brain going a mile a minute.   Derek, it’s fucking happening! Derek, please!   He would recognize that fucking voice anywhere. Two years. Two fucking years had passed, and now this little shit was standing in front of him, speaking his name, and grinning like an idiot. “It’s you,” Derek said, earning him a confused look from Stiles. “The phone call. Two years ago. It was you.” (SNYE - January 2nd - Time Travel)
Notes: This is not canon compliant. It's a whole other universe, actually, and it's so good. Good ol' Derek is losing his mind over here, but it's alright! Things work out just fine. It's complete.
These ones are not time travel, but dimensional travel. It’s similar enough so here you go.
8. The play it again series by metisket
In which Stiles goes along with one of Derek’s plans and ends up in an alternate universe as a result. He should’ve known better. He did know better, actually, and that means he has no one to blame but himself. “Laura wants to lure the kid in with food and kindness and make a pet of him, like a feral cat. Derek wants to have him arrested for stalking. They’re at an impasse. (And the rest of the family is staying emphatically out of it in a way that suggests bets have been placed.)”
Notes: I honestly don't know how to show the whole of my appreciation for this series. I think I've read this about five times since I found it last year. Stiles lands himself in a whole other dimension, where the Hale House fire never happened and Scott is human. It goes about as well as you can expect. It's technically not complete, but the main piece is.
9. The Home Across The Universe series by TricksterShi
You can lose your home and spend your whole life looking for it, sometimes you may even find bits of it again. But sometimes home goes out searching and finds you first. ~ The day he loses his father and his pack, Stiles is transported to a parallel world where his counterpart is nine years old and seemingly small changes have had a huge impact on the course of events in Beacon Hills. At first sticking to the shadows as a vigilante to protect his otherworld father and younger self, Stiles is soon drawn out into the light and onto a path that forces him to confront the traumas of his past so that he can make a place for himself in this new world.
Notes: Just. This absolute beast of a universe is seriously so well done, and so good. Imagine play it again, but much more depressing and waaaay longer. The angst is on point! The Stilinskis are the best in this one. And Derek and Laura have my heart, love my pookies. Stiles is not having the best times, but he'll be looked after, don't worry! Also technically not complete, but all the pieces in the series are done.
10. The Ley Lines series by forestofbabel
Stiles is back in town after many years, angry and bitter and disconnected from anything you might call pack. It might as well be a tradition at this point that he gets drunk and wakes up in the woods. Only, this time, something is different.  The ghosts that have weighed in his heart are alive and well, and Stiles gets to witness a life that could have been his. There is one thing he knows, though. No matter how much he may want to stay, he has to go home.  If the ley lines you should follow, and your dwelling at the end, and find your presence has been hollowed, your hereafter is to amend." *** Stiles is faced in this new world with someone he had been avoiding for a long time. Himself.  The Double Walker cannot survive where the Double Walker dwells *** Derek had an itch under his skin. There was something missing. He knew exactly what it was. Who it was. His regrets paraded themselves in a steady stream, and he had to watch as Stiles left time and time again, knowing it would be the only way to let the ley lines heal. That didn't make it hurt any less. Still, some part of Derek hoped.
Notes: I honestly just read the first part, but I thought I'd add the whole series so people know what they're getting into. The first part can be read as a stand alone, so if anyone wants to stop after that they absolutely can. The fic itself is a bit sad, but it has a happy ending! Stiles travels to another dimension, and shenanigans follow. The series is complete.
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penaltyboxboxbox · 3 days
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i love ur charlos parents au sm!! im not requesting art or anything if u dont feel like drawing (tho youre a phenomenal artist!!), but i was wondering if you wanted to share any more details abt the au? i thinks its so cute haha and would love to know more. also hope ur having a great day!
I LOVE THIS AU TOO i do want to draw more i always have ideas for it.... but i will gladly ramble about my lore ive developed
1. is this an mpreg au even i do not know or care to know. yes these are their biological children who look like them and share their genes but how did we get here ill leave that to you to assume. either way both of them definitely wanted big families and even tho i draw them with 2 kids i think they want at least 4..... charles wants a daughter and carlos says the same but secretly he only wants sons. hes picturing a future football team and also doesn't understand women conceptually
2. i actually think carlos3 was an accident child and charlos get shotgun married over it. its part of the reason why theres a bit of a gap between their first and second child. they had to like reassess and settle stuff after kind of having to get their shit together and make honest men of each other.
3. they get divorced at some point during all this mainly due to SAINZ SENIOR PRESSURE. probably while carlos3 is like highschool age. charles talks so much shit and then proceeds to get emotional like I SHOULDNT TALK ABOUT YOUR FATHER THIS WAY vs carlos like. bro tries to just act like they are normal regular friends now like man thats not how this works....charles always plays cool irl but is annoyed as hell underneath. very good coparents though....always at all the events together. when the kids stay at sainz family evil mansion for the summer they come back to charles so villainous and feral. he has to go supernanny on them...
4. charlos DO get back together after like 10 years of being separated lol. and yeah there were lots of messy nights out and not quite reconciliations throughout that time. very confusing family dynamic but theyre happy at the end
5. carlos3 grows up to be a guy who just kind of piggybacks onto whatever business endeavors his dads are doing. ultimate nepotism hire. hes not bad at what hes doing he just never really found that passion. his passion is like.....posting peaky blinders quotes on instagram. hes kind of a failson but hes also the perpetual baby for charlos so they just...coddled him too much his whole life djhdksndksbs.... younger son herve becomes a FASHION MODEL!!!! hes beautiful gorgeous and also a perfect nepo child so he's ripe for this career....he walks runways in paris
thats all i can think of for now thankssssss ily
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subaquatic0mess · 3 days
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Alenoah Hypnosis AU, where Alejandro offers to hypnotize Noah, Noah says yes but makes sure that Owen + Izzy + Tyler is around to make sure that Alejandro doesn't make him do anything too embarrassing...
But Alejandro only adds a hypnotic trigger... Whenever Alejandro offers Noah a hug, Noah feels a strong urge to cuddle Alejandro... It's Alejandro own way of playfully messing with Noah... Noah hates it (but secretly enjoys the cuddles)... Owen + Izzy + Tyler doesn't stop Alejandro from adding the trigger, cause they think the hugging might help the anti-social grumpy Noah...
NOAH (while hugging Alejandro): "I'll get you for this, you eel..." 🍥
I've induced myself into to much content about this idea already so I'll give you a quick response so that I don't become hella biased or just repeat something someone else might have already said. (Did I say quick? Fuck that, future me had other ideas.)
Something I would like to see is Noah gradually understanding how to suppress the urges of the hypnosis with Owen's help.
By that I don't mean he just randomly stopped being able to be hypnotised or something.
I mean that Noah would realize just hiw much control Alejandro had over him and he realized he couldn't do anything about it.
This then brings Noah to consistently try to explain to Owen how wrong this is and that he needs him to help him to not give in. Yet it wasn't that easy he knew that if that eel even doubted Noah was retaliating he'd most definitely put a stop to it.
So this ends up with Owen confused as he keeps recieveing mixed signals from Noah who seems to switch up almost completely when Alejandro joins the same room. (Noah isn't taking chances.)
So this ends up with Noah practically beggin Owen to pay attention to the next time he gets hypnotised.
This results in Owen seeing his best buddy go from his usual self to someone who wasn't there. The way Noah disassociated scared Owen a bit.
Now Owen would try to understand how he views Alejandro. Alejandro was supposed to be a good guy no? Why does this feel so wrong then?
The moment Noah would regain focus he'd probably be quite alarmed as his chubby buddy is quite literally having a crisis. See what I mean now Owen?
And this would result in the two slowly scheming a way of making sure Noah would be able to control the trigger of his hypnosis.
Owen making sure Noah avoided Alejandro.
Noah trying to concentrate on Owen rather than Alejandro.
Owen trying to distract Alejandro when he saw he was hypnotising Noah breaking his focus midway through. That last one was quite helpful. Hope is not something the cynic feels too often but this is important.
Hope.
Knowing that he can break even if only momentarily from Alejandro's grasp.
////////////////////////////////////////////////
Something I invision would maybe be Noah being able to free himself from his grasp but not emidiatly making it clear for anyone else. Besides Owen.
Like now they have the power over that eel. Ofcoirse this would work for only a little since I feel like after all of what happened Noah would be pissed.
And he isn't one to just express himself. He's too lazy for that.
And since he bottled up his anger I have a feeling there would be a moment where he would just burst?
It's not even about the hugs. Fuck that Noah wasn't even that pissed about that.
He was pissed Alejandro used that to make Noah shut up when he disagreed with him.
He felt as if he took his voice. It made him feel small.
He couldn't take it anymore. So blah blah angst and more heavy angst that I have no clue how to write properly. Srr!!
And then they would probably become quite begrudging of eachother as now things are quite tense.
From Alejandro's pov he didn't see no wrong in what he was doing. Maybe he might've have gone a bit overboard but- Noah allowed him. Did he just make Alejandro a fool of himself in international television?
For everyone to see? For his brother to see? For his parents?
Oh no. He can't bear that.
Did he do the same to Noah?
They're both torn at the moment. This is all my brain ranting srr if it makes no sense.
Credits to this anon, @total-drama-brainrot and they're anons awell for the inspo!
Idk what else to say!!!
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nmcggg · 3 days
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
tagged by @neverevan @made-ofmemories and @diazsdimples thank you!
How many works do you have on ao3?
6! I only started writing a little over a year ago and I am a very, very slow writer.
2. What's your total ao3 word count?
68,008
3. What fandoms do you write for?
9-1-1 only at the moment.
4. Top 5 fics by kudos:
I got a bed but I’d rather be in ours tonight (6.7k, Buddie, Explicit) Thighs and Eyes (3.7k, Buddie, Explicit) Kiss your lips blue (7k, Buddie, Explicit) I'll Be Your Gift, Give You Something Good To Celebrate (6.4k, Buddie, Explicit) Sweet Nothing (37.8k, Buddie, Teen and up)
5. Do you respond to comments?
Yes!!! Every time, comments absolutely make my day and I don't feel like my responses ever do justice to just how giddy I am when I get a nice comment!
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I don't think any of my fics are even remotely angsty (though maybe some in the near future might be idk idk) but I don't think I could ever write something with an angsty ending. Happy endings only over here.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
I think all of my fics have very happy endings but I'll go with Sweet Nothing maybe, as it's super happy with also hints at even more happiness in their future too. :)
8. Do you get hate on fics?
So far no, thank god.
9. Do you write smut?
Most definitely, four of the six fics I have up are smut but I always like to put a lot of plot in there too!
10. Craziest crossover?
I don't write crossovers, it's just not my thing personally.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of, I really hope not.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
No, put people are welcome to as long as they link my fic :)
13. Have you co-written a fic before?
No but I hope to soon!
14. All time favorite ship?
Buddie buddie buddie buddie buddie
15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
I have a few I started when I first got into 911 that would need some crazy reworking to still make sense but I'm still hopeful lol. The hangover au is really hanging on by a thread because the 911 writers blatantly stole my idea to steal the hangover movie's idea (jk) I'll definitely still write it but it's kinda been put on hold.
16. What are your writing strengths?
I think I'm good at writing descriptively? I also get some lovely comments on how I write emotions which makes me very happy :)
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
I think my pacing could use a lot of work. Sometimes things feel a little too fast and other times I go on for too long. My dialogue can also be hit or miss depending on the character.
18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?
I can't speak any language other than English and like super basic Irish so I just don't trust myself to write in another language well. If I had someone's help I would be open to it though.
19. First fandom you wrote in?
I think I wrote one direction fics back when I was like 12-15 but I only actually posted one fic before I started writing for 911 and that was destiel about a decade ago (and it was deleted like 6 months later)
20. Favorite fic you've written?
Ahhhh I'm not sure, I have things I both love and hate about all of them, but I think I have to pick Sweet Nothing because I put my heart and soul into that fic for months and it inspired me to keep writing longer fics.
I feel like most people have already been tagged so sorry if you've already done this, but tagging: @wikiangela @watchyourbuck @spagheddiediaz @thewolvesof1998 @rogerzsteven
@jesuisici33 @sunshinediaz @daffi-990 @rainbow-nerdss @theotherbuckley
+ whoever else wants to do it!
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littlegeecko · 20 days
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Whats the "Feel good AU" from the michase post. Tell me how things went right somehow!
its a very out-there au, simply to deposit all of the cute ideas there without big repercussions
basically, syd is alive, first and foremost. You gotta have at least a basic understanding of my syd before diving in here to understand a few things but yea, he's there.
After the events of echo (most likely following jenna's route good ending) they all kinda separate for a while and do their own lives.
Jenna and TJ are faraway (separatedly), Flynn and Carl are together and living relatively closer, but not in a place like Payton or anything, far from Echo, the same goes with Syd and Leo (also together) living in the same city/state as Flynn and Carl
And then u have Chase. Chase tries something with Micha after the events and surprisingly it worked pretty well until they started to have issues about Micha wanting to travel around the states and be away from Echo and Payton, while Chase wanted to stay and "settle down" with him. Micha is a free bird while Chase is scared of doing new things, especially right now. So...they cut things off, and Micha goes away.
So Chase kinda stayed on his own path lookin for jobs, possibly finishing his major since it was in such a latter state already anyway and later trying with being a historian...all of that while his friends basically knew little about his whereabouts and continued on with their lifes wondering where the fuck chase was...until he came back
The thing in his head is a lot quieter than before since the events, so hes been...alright, picking up the broken pieces of his own being and doing an effort in getting better...He visits his friends and realizes some of them even have families (Beck for Carl and Flynn, Leon for Syd and Leo -i havent shown him yet-) and even surprised to see some of the tetanus gang still kicking and getting better just like Micha.
So since things ended on a high note last time, they welcome him with open arms...
now, the picture with Micha is possibly them at a gathering where Jenna's living, its kinda far, but it seemed to coincide with where Micha was staying for the month-week, he received a text from someone telling him about the reunion, so he showed up and...caught on with Chase, too.
The pic shows them talking in the frontyard about this and that, and who knows what will come out of that
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keeps-ache · 2 years
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ever just stay up two minutes too late and start Writing
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astrxealis · 1 year
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arghh w dynamis data center coming out (having my fave dc name and world names!! esp seraph!!) i am even more. ahbjdjhgd. i want to be more active in na dc
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#most filipinos are actually on na too tbh. or elemental still. but i see a lot on na#and i know a lot of people online on na!#funny bcs i've only ever been mostly active on eu and oce#but yeah... i have an alt on dynamis now but i'm in somewhat of a dilemma between my main & alts#i don't want to leave materia until i get a proper pc/vpn but also idk if i do want to even leave#bcs na wld be my biggest choice then but oce is def more chill i feel. but na has the most of stuff i think!#also bcs i want to move elsewhere so oce/jp might not be most ideal but mostly w jp. i think i might go to aus so that's that#so ig it depends on my future tbh. and when i'll get a pc & ffxiv on pc & vpn! bcs currently i play on ps4 and just play on oce#bcs i started on eu and used the free world move for better ping ^^; and the thing is i NEED good ping bcs otherwise#it's a huge bother esp bcs i do raiding :]#i think the best thing to do esp bcs there's not much i can do. best thing to do rn is just let things be#bcs w house & fc i know what to do w that (relinquish to an alt or smth like that) !! tho there's the fact alt leveling takes so long#and so that wld mean i have an alt on all regions aside from my main. so that would be 3 alts that should be up to ENDWALKER...#and only one so far has finished BASE ARR. so yeah </3 :') not to mention college soon and i'm a young student still#so hm yeah ... i'll focus on the present ^____^ aka my chem and filipino hw <//3#i think ultimately i want to be more active on dynamis/na#esp w vpn... but also be very active on oce? bcs i think it's likely i'll go to australia (hopefully)#n then there's my friends on eu! <333 and jp is Yeah too hehe so yes yes yes#so yeah. ultimately between dynamis/materia (na/oce). ig i'll see as time goes by bcs oce is still so small-seeming it kinda sucks ???#wish that dynamis was oce ngl ...... it fits better w the feel of na yeah but i think more people would have been willing to move to oce#but also na suffers from overpopulation so. yeah. but ghsbgjhbdhhgb yeah </3
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immanentise · 1 month
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After a long lotta soul searching and psychoanalysing, I've concluded that I currently feel best about being he/him agender afab (& am likeee 65-35 fem-masc for presentation atm) which feels like a parody of tumblr users going too far with labels. And yet.
Like I can show you my working out here, and yeah, I think therapy might be helpful for me to get a more stable sense of self, but it's what I feel works best for me at the moment.
Now how do I integrate this self-discovery into the way I speak French....
#not transing my gender but de-gendering my self-concept and self-presentation#do you get me#my gender is me gently nursing my 9 yr old self back to life#who was not a tomboy but also was not a girl or a boy and was ugly as all hell but had no conception of attractiveness or refinement#who had a multi-year long daydream world which was based around having a) a huge sword and b) friends w matching swords#who only had second hand clothes but from both the boys & girls sections and who was obsessed w reenacting violence as playing#god she could've taken over the world#im coaxing her back to life#but to do that we have got to pass over the grave of the teenage me who was in a lot of pain that i cannot carry forward#and the she/her pronouns will to be laid to rest with her. at least for the time being#so welcome to the future little me dont mind the grave of 11-17 yr old us or the void where 18-22 yr old us used to be#no giant sword just yet but you can fling the he/him pronouns around like projectiles in a slingshot for the time being#and i bestow upon you the tentative name of 2 dumbass fictional guys whose gender is best described as 'bitchy'#even if no name is ever really going to feel right because 11-17 yr old took our name and buried it with her and that was for the best#so good luck nick#your playground is a graveyard and you do not stand on the shoulders of giants#and yet i think youve got it from here#degendering my self to re gender myself#tear it all to the ground and rebuild only what you want#be a feminine boy in a masc kinda way#him/him but elle qui s'accorde au masculin#impossible que tu sois prof de français comme ça mais tant pis#bark
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doobea · 4 months
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YOU'RE A MEAN ONE, MISTER GOJO ─ SATORU G.
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synopsis: satoru gojo is spoiled and arrogant. he's also the next in line to inherit his family's fortune. his father sends him far away in a small town for a week in hopes that he'll 'change' for the better. instead of the usual five-starred hilton hotels, he stays at a local inn and starts to befriend the owner's daughter.
tropes: small town romance, christmas au, golden retriever x black cat
MILESTONE EVENT || MILESTONE MASTERLIST
contents: fem!reader, spoiled rich boy!gojo, acts like an ass to everyone but hopelessly falls in love with you at first sight, feels like a really bad hallmark movie, mentions of wealth class differences, reader isn't a tsundere - she's just indifferent for the most part and introverted word count: 7.5K (idk i will uh make the fics shorter in the future) a/n: thank you anon for requesting this!! idk if this is what you wanted but hopefully you like it!! :3 everyone also give a round of applause to @popponn for beta reading this big mess LMAO
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Satoru Gojo has a lot of expectations, but this certainly isn’t one of them.
He isn’t particularly excited about spending a week away from his big city penthouse to be rotting in a small town motel in the middle of nowhere but, his father, CEO of Gojo Corporations, heavily insisted that he ‘needs this’ and that ‘it’ll be good for the company’ — whatever that means. Satoru is confident that his father thinks he’s incapable of running the family business after last month’s run with the paparazzi and his third fling of the month. It wasn’t his fault that they got caught doing drugs at one of Zenin's parties, everyone else was doing the same thing, it just so happened that the cameras were only focusing on him. 
Well, that’s what he gets for signing up to be the son of one of the richest men on Earth.
“You need to start taking this seriously,” he recalls his father slamming his fist down at the desk before throwing a bottle of Henessy at the wall. “I don’t want this company to go bankrupt just because I have a son who only thinks with his dick.”
Ouch… but he’s not wrong about that.
So now Satoru finds himself driving up a winding road somewhere very deep in the mountains. Exactly five hours away from the city. And, for the past three hours, all he’s been seeing are miles and miles of pine trees, sheets of snow, and — he had recently learned this from Suguru — sugar shacks. Apparently when you’re out over a hundred miles into wilderness territory these sap houses are littered everywhere.  The fact that Satoru is beginning to count more shacks than designer cars on the road is really starting to get to him. 
“This whole thing is so fucking stupid,” Satoru has also been talking to himself throughout the journey in order to not lose his mind. “He could’ve just sent me door to door caroling instead of whatever this is.” Satoru doesn’t know how to sing well, but he does know all the lyrics to ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ and that usually gets him all the tips. He wonders if he can manage to make a small side hustle when he starts wasting his week here.
He takes a sharp turn up around the hill before finally recognizing a big red sign with the name ‘Mistle Town’ as seen on the postcard his dad left him before leaving. It takes him another five minutes of driving through said small town, which is quite literally something out of one of those really bad holiday movies that his mom would force him to watch when he was little, before arriving at the inn. Upon arriving, Satoru is noticeably disappointed at the lack of valet assistance and, the size and design of the inn, is rather lackluster. 
First, it just looks like a regular white farmhouse. Maybe having a max of ten rooms, none of them being penthouse sized, Satoru assumes. There are a couple of flowerbeds out front, all covered in a couple of inches of snow, and there’s subtle signs of holiday decor slowly bleeding its way outside. He sees someone dressed in an oversized puffer by the entrance, arms occupied with red tinsel and large white ornaments, and figures that the first nice thing he’ll do is to help out a random stranger — just to prove something to his dad.
Satoru parks his Rolls Royce in a spot furthest away from everyone else in the parking lot and sends a ‘im alive and well’ text to Suguru, because he’s very much so going to be in frequent contact with him for the remainder of the trip, before heading up.
“Need a hand?” He points out the obvious but still manages to throw a smile as if he’s already fixed the situation unfolding in front of him.
Satoru’s presence seems to pull you from your busy trance. You wiped your body around, nearly smacking the damn tinsel in his face, and made a small surprised noise.
“I’ve got it,” you muffle out and he looks entirely unconvinced but, whatever, he tried anyway.
Satoru gives you a few encouraging pats on the back before heading inside, failing to realize his strength and causing you to lose your balance, making a few ornaments tumble to the ground. Thank god they’re all plastic though.
He pretends to not hear you yelling after him as he enters the double doors, immediately greeted by the scent of roasted coffee beans and leather. It’s the precious hour in the morning where nobody comes by, right after the cleaning staff had just finished vacuuming, when he struts in. He immediately spots someone vaguely familiar by the front desk. Long black hair, a red poofy bow tie in the back, and a distinctive scar across her face. The woman isn’t working alone, a man with another facial marking is next to her, brewing two cups of coffee by the espresso machine. 
Satoru looks at the woman again and outwardly smiles. “What are you doing here?”
“Ugh,” Utahime’s composure immediately falters at the sound of his voice, not that it’s a big shock. “Helping the family business, what else?” she throws back with a certain sharpness to her tone, and waves off the casual talk. “Have you even mentally prepared yourself for what you’re getting into?”
Satoru simply shrugs and saunters over to a nearby seat by the counter. “Nah, honestly just planning to fuck around till I get back.”
Utahime flushes a little, though it’s mainly from frustration. “Satoru Gojo, you really are—”
“Utahime,” the man next to her speaks, handing her a cup of coffee, and slides Satoru a freshly brewed one, too. “I can explain the details to him, if you would like?”
The older female rubs the bridge of her nose and exhales a long, overdue sigh. “Please do, Choso.”
“Yeah,” Satoru leans into the counter, lips pointed down at this new face. “Please, do tell.”
“You’re basically our little Santa helper.” A new voice rings out from behind him. It spooks Satoru from his seat and he whips his head around to be met with your narrow eyes.
“Huh?”
“Also think of this as an unpaid internship.” You start laughing when he gags on his own saliva at your statement. “Okay, you don’t have to be so dramatic about it.”
Satoru swallows. “U-Unpaid…?”
Now it’s Utahime’s turn to speak, she huffs and tosses a couple of stockings into his arms. “Your father sent us a lengthy email a few days prior regarding your bratty behavior. So, of course, we came prepared.” 
“Prepared…?” He feels the fabric in his hands and whines at the grainy texture. This is so not 100% real wool.
If Satoru thought he had any chance of actually taking over his father’s company, because he knows the difference between supply and demand, he’s wrong.
Customer service is not his forte. He’s always thrown emails and sponsorship paperwork at his many assistants, and Satoru doesn’t even know his own email log-in password. So, when you walked up to him first thing the next morning with a brown apron, the inn’s logo large and embroidered in the center, telling him how to function all these coffee machines that he’s seen behind hundreds of counters, it invoked some fear into his already wrecked nerves. Plus, no one dared to warn him about the clientele during a holiday rush.
“I want a venti peppermint frappe with two pumps of chocolate, three pumps of hazelnut, replace it with almond milk, one shot of espresso, and top it off with a drizzle of caramel on top.”
He slumps against the counter. “You sure you want all of that?”
“Can I please get a half dozen sfogliatella and a cannoli?
He starts picking at his cuticles and sneers. “Sorry, I don’t speak Italian.” 
“My change is supposed to be five dollars, you only gave me three back?”
Satoru groans. “You’re trying to scam me, aren’t you?”
By the end of his four hour shift, Satoru feels like he’s just done more charity work than he’s ever done in his life — actually, maybe this could also be comparable to the time where he did the ribbon cutting ceremony at Chanel; gotta support small businesses, right?
“Gojo.” You’re seated across from him behind the counter, arms crossed and pursed lips.
He barely spares you a glance as he idly plays whatever shitty mobile game that’s number one on the app store. “Mhm? What is it?” He clearly knows you’re upset, your voice practically screams ‘I will end you’ in the most monotonous way possible. But can you blame him? Of all places, Satoru does not want to spend his winter break here.
You jerk your head to the side, fingers rhythmically tapping away on the counter, clearly unimpressed. “It hasn’t even been a full day and you’ve managed to piss off every single customer.”
Satoru expression shifts, brow creasing, and sighs, grabbing a handful of mint chocolate from the freebie candy jar by the register. “Don’t be dramatic,” he rolls his eyes and shoves three pieces in his mouth before jabbing a finger at a young man. “I didn’t piss him off!”
You glower, cheeks slightly puffed out. “That’s Yuuji and he’s practically a family friend and Choso’s little brother, so he doesn’t count,” you explain before adding, “Plus, he’s literally nice to everyone. You’re not special.”
And for a second, Satoru considered arguing that fact. Having been born into wealth, granted whatever wish he wanted, his butlers and maids are always on speed dial, that’s the lifestyle he’s used to. Placed on this tiny rock called Earth just to take over it one day, is what his father used to always say to him. But how can he, Satoru Gojo, take over when he’s stuck working a minimum — scratch that, unpaid — wage job as punishment? 
Instead of fighting, Satoru slumps against the counter and pouts, like a little kid who just got their toy taken away. You and your sister Utahime have a clear advantage over him, by somehow being close, yet distant, friends to his family. Maybe karma is real. 
“I’m putting you on ski lessons later.”
Satoru’s ears perk at this. “Oh, so I get some employee benefits, right?”
You roll your eyes, digging deep in your pockets to pull out a sheet with his name next to a list of others. “Wrong. You’re in charge of teaching five year olds how to ski.” 
“Huh?”
Somehow that sounds even worse than being a barista. Kinda. 
By the end of his first day of unemployment, Satoru tries to convince himself that a full change of scenery is nice. Well, he has to convince himself, otherwise he’s stuck dreading each coming day for the rest of the week. 
“Tired yet, Gojo?”
You flop down on a spare armchair in his room, squishing his Canada Goose jacket underneath. He’s too tired to yell at you to get off and tumbles onto his bed, feet dangling off the edge, letting out a loud groan when his face immediately makes contact with the rough wooly blanket. Surprisingly to him, everything just feels so comfortable that the quality of the products doesn’t even cross his mind.
Sure, the air in the room is a bit musty, and he can feel his cheeks flaring up from the sudden change in temperature and the dull aching nag in his legs from demonstrating ski tricks to toddlers, but there’s an odd sense of fulfillment swelling in his chest just about now. He almost suggests taking over Choso’s lesson but, according to the hotel pamphlet, there’s going to be an ice fishing tournament tomorrow and he kinda wants to check that out, too.
“Exhausted,” he mumbles into the sheets, eyes squeezed shut. Satoru wiggles his body around for a few moments before slipping out of his snow boots and stares out the window, noticing flickering green and purple lights in the night sky. “Woah, are those…?”
He hears you laugh beside him. “Yeah, northern lights. We see them all the time during the winter.”
“Only seen them bitches in ‘Polar Express’.” Satoru finds himself saying whatever’s on his mind right now, his brain too whipped out to control his mouth. “You guys are lucky to see this every night.”
“I know you’re all pooped out from today but,” he feels the mattress dip by the edge and your fingers poking at his thighs. “Did you wanna head up to the balcony and watch them for a bit?” you say this experimentally, waiting for his reaction. 
Satoru might be a stranger to most natural phenomenons, having to zone out all the time whenever he did go on family vacations to a fancy national park when he was younger. Though, during the short time of spending his time here, it makes him think about packing up and leaving behind the fast paced city life for a bit of natural beauty and brightness.
“Carry me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re like a giant.” 
He manages to gather some energy to sit up on his elbows. “You should at least have some form of hospitality to a family friend, you know?”
You eye him for a long moment, and then finally huff, breaking the contact to kick your feet into the festive carpeted floor. “Alright, just don’t lean your whole body weight on me.”
“Wouldn’t count on that.”
Both of you end up tumbling onto the balcony rails around one in the morning. As expected, Satoru couldn’t keep to his promise, throwing his ridiculously long arms around your shoulders, and whining the whole way up the stairs. It’s not his fault that the inn didn’t have an elevator installed. In all, it’s not a bad day — a bad night, even. 
You straighten him against the railing before throwing a blanket over him. The fabric is thick and heavy, and Satoru forgets the ache in his limbs as he watches the way your eyes focus, eyebrows knitted, when you’re making sure he stays bundled up against the winter air. Once upon a time, Satoru never would’ve thought he would actually enjoy being in the company of someone who’s actively trying to teach him a lesson.
“Okay,” you say suddenly, almost like a reminder that you need to breathe, and pull away from him once he’s wrapped tightly like a swaddled baby. 
You both sit in silence for a moment, and Satoru feels the urge to fill all that silence. He supposes maybe that’s why most people find him so annoying. He never really shuts up, always wants to add the last comment to everything. Though, with the help of Suguru by his side, it’s gotten slightly easier and bearable for others but, when his head is big and full of loud thoughts, it’s so hard trying to calm the buzzing noise in his head and —
“Gojo, look,” your pointer finger darts at the illuminated skyline in the distance and he snaps his head, following the trail, before gasping.
He feels your other hand tugging at the blanket when he finally makes out two faint bright lights in the distance. You squirm slightly next to him, to the point where your shoulders touch, and Satoru finally breathes, because suddenly, there’s heat rushing in. The loud, rough winds around him seem to die down and he’s aware of the slightly gazed expression on your face as you look into the far distance.
“Did you make a wish?” he finds himself whispering.
You grin. “Yeah, gonna make you work here for eternity,” you reply back in good natured spirit.
Something stirs inside Satoru. Something important. Well, Satoru-level important, so in the grand scheme of things, not very — but still. He unravels parts of his blanket and throws it over your head, making sure that it messes up your hair, and laughs when you throw him another pout. 
“Did you make a wish?” you adjust the blanket so it covers your shoulders, moving a little closer to him, avoiding the cool breeze.
Satoru nods but presses a finger to his lips. “Not telling, though. Might not come true if I do.”
“Oh, shoot. Maybe I should’ve kept mine a secret then.”
He rolls his eyes and nudges your waist with an elbow. “You will definitely not see me here again.”
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Satoru realizes, very fast, that his life has become very different, very quickly. And it might not be the bad kind of different. 
Over the course of the next few days, he’s practically glued to your side as you’re showing him all things related to hospitality that his father tried to drill into him when he was a pre-teen. Obviously, it didn’t work at the time. Satoru’s known for being defiant just because he wanted to, and eventually his father stopped with the after school etiquette lessons. You, on the other hand, unfortunately have him tied around your fingers.
“You need to tidy up the edges more, Gojo.”
“There’s barely a wrinkle in these sheets!” He points at the bed sheet on the mattress, the one that he’d been working on for the last ten minutes in vain while you stood next to him with slightly concerned eyes. It’s a room service type of lesson today and, even though Satoru has never made his own bed before, he’s positive that he didn’t leave behind any smudges that might catch anyone’s eye.
“Did you check tuck in the sides? Or are you trying to get off easy for today?” You say, there’s a mild accusation in your tone when you speak, smiling as you step aside. 
And, despite the warm smile, Satoru frowns a little, because guess who forgot to tuck in the sides? 
When Satoru ducks his head around the mattress and sees a good loose chunk of the sheets hanging off and groans when you’re right. “It’s not my fault that they’ve made them so big for no reason,” he replies, somewhat embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head and messing up his already ruffled hair.
You roll your eyes and stick a tongue out. “You’re getting the hang of it though, maybe even faster than Yuuji when he first offered to help.”
He flushes at the unexpected praise and quickly fixes the sheets, turning his whole entire body away from your sight. “Better than Yuuji, right?”
“Oh? So, you only work better with compliments, Gojo?” You sound amused, as if a lightbulb just popped on top of your head.  
Satoru flattens out the bed once more, strangely now feeling satisfied with the final outcome before turning around, sticking out a tongue of his own. “Only if it’s from you,” he answers, honestly. 
You laugh, and hopefully it’s not at him. “I thought you would be more annoying to deal with.”
“So, I’m just regular amounts of annoying?” He points out, with a fake frown, his fingers fiddling with the edges of the sheet.
You turn your gaze, seemingly in deep thought, before responding with a small shrug and grin. “Possibly a perfect amount of annoying.”
Satoru feels the blood rushing to his cheeks, again. “Well, of course, it’s the perfect amount because I’m perfect,” he replies, instantly, but suddenly he’s shy and feels the need to go to the next room to fix their stupid sheets before he combusts in front of you.
“Gojo,” you say, almost hesitantly. 
He swallows and rubs the back of his neck, wiping off evidence of his sweaty palms. “Yeah?”
“You missed a spot,” and your pointer fingers direct at the far right corner of the bed frame. He must’ve pulled the sides too hard and it caused the other side to flip over. Ugh, he’s not cut out for this at all.
“I’m… uh, still better than Yuuji, right?”
“Mhm, getting there, Gojo.”
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By day four, Satoru has surprisingly adjusted to the rules and responsibilities. He’s not entirely sure what’s gotten him mildly well behaved, Suguru is a bit surprised by the daily updates being less… aggressive and whiny. What started as long vent paragraphs about the lack of heated flooring and needy customers, soon turned into photo albums of kids face planting into the snow and unconsented selfies with you in the background. Satoru absolutely makes sure you end up looking the worst out of the two because he’s gotta let his best friend know who’s the prettiest and he’s definitely racking up a blackmail album of all of your worst moments in case anything happens in the future. 
It’s closing time and he just got back from the reindeer shed out in the back, covered head to toe in all things hay and snow. First things first, and no one bothered to tell him, but reindeers smell bad. Like, really bad. Especially at the end of the day, where their pens are covered in shit and countless carrots and apple bits from the little kids overfeeding them. Satoru is vaguely aware of the fact that he smells, just like he’s vaguely aware that the hotel lobby is oddly quiet from the usual banter between you and the usual workers.
Utahime and Choso are sitting by the cafe bar, seemingly deep in conversation about ordering more supplies for next week. Satoru thinks about interrupting their session with probably an unrelated dumb question, but the idea dies when Utahime notices his presence and motions him to come over. 
“You stink,” Satoru casts a half-glare at Utahime and begins picking out some of the scattered hay pieces stuck to his sweater. 
“For the record, I became good friends with Rudolph and Vixen today,” he grumbles back and Choso throws him a pat on the back.
“Hey, I don’t mind your stink, by the way. Smells kinda nice,” Choso offers up, but Satoru only shoots him a very unhappy look.
“If you think I smell nice then I’m really worried about what you think smells bad,” then he turns over to Utahime again, who’s engrossed in whatever is on her clipboard right now. “So, what did you need from me?”
“My sister,” she starts and taps away at the clipboard before handing it over to him. It’s pages upon pages of invoices from the past month. “Could you hand this to her? She should be in the back.”
“You treating me like an errand boy?”
Utahime scoffs. “What? Don’t wanna see her?”
“No, I do,” he responds, a bit too fast for his own liking, and straightens out. “Uh, is that all?” Satoru hopes his face doesn’t betray how much he’s a bit excited to interact with you, given that today was a full day out in the trenches, and he absolutely needs to hear you say his name at least twice a day in order to have a good night’s sleep.
Choso is trying really hard not to laugh, and Satoru takes it as a sign that he currently has a cheesy smile on his face — go figure. “One of the corner rooms upstairs requested a weighted blanket, mind also doing that too?”
There’s a certain relief that floods through Satoru and he thinks maybe he can take on a few more tasks for the night if that means spending a little more time with you, even if his body is screaming that he needs to take a two hour long shower. 
“Hey,” he starts to say when he rounds the corner, “Where’d you put those weighted blankets again?”
Satoru expected to walk in on you neck-deep in paperwork. You’ve mentioned earlier in the week that this year would be the busiest and there’s a bunch of stuff due. Something about end of the year tax returns and inventory counts, it all goes out his ear but he remembers something similar that his father told him in a prior conversation. He thinks he could probably help you figure out some of it, but that might be a bit much.
What he walks in on, thought, is you sitting in your little makeshift office. You’re on your laptop, the screen’s tilted just right enough that he gets a glimpse of what you’re looking at. You’re looking at flights and hotels, even got a whole spreadsheet on the second monitor. From what he’s seen of you so far, you didn’t come off as the type to talk about your future that much.
His voice catches you by surprise and your expression flickers from something vaguely focused to embarrassment real quick. You hastily close out the tabs and go back to the hotel’s homepage.
“What is it, Gojo?” And there’s this awkward, oddly frantic moment of you fumbling around with the keyboard and mouse, like a teenage boy who’s just got caught looking at porn.
“Ah,” Satoru thinks seeing your flustered side is rather adorable, to say the least. “You tryin’ to plan a vacation or something?” He struts over to your desk, placing a firm hand onto the back of the chair, and there’s this smile on his face that just screams ‘gotcha’.
Your face scrunches up but it’s not out of annoyance. “Kinda?”
Even with a grumpy look, it’s a good look on you. Makes you kinda dark, brooding, and beautiful, and it turns your eyes into dark storm clouds, or some other weird, waxy poetic shit that Satoru can’t figure out the words to. Either way, Satoru thinks you look cute and can’t stop noticing your little facial movements. You’re more expressive than you would probably imagine.
“Ooh, where to?”
You sigh and start playing with your thumbs. “Malaysia. My friend told me great things about it and I’ve been meaning to go for a while now but time and money are always iffy.”
“Makes sense, I can imagine that being an inn assistant doesn’t pay all the bills.”
That was probably the wrong thing to say. You huff and glare, an icy-death glare, at him. If looks could kill, Satoru is sure that he’ll be six feet underground by now. 
“Weighted blankets are on the second floor closet by the laundry room,” you answer his initial question curtly before shutting the laptop. “Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“It was just a question,” he mumbles slowly, and maybe even a little dangerously. “If money’s an issue—”
“Gojo.” Your voice is fixed and rigid, one that leaves absolutely no room for debate. “Your dad was right about you; you always just fall back to your fame and wealth.”
As you’re busy staring, Satoru realizes that you’re kinda being a total ass to him right now.
“That’s not fair,” his voice is rising and can’t seem to put a stop to the words spilling out. “Don’t bring my dad into this conversation.”
“Or what? You can go back to your privileged life anytime you want. This is just a field trip for you while others actually have to try hard and make a living.” You spit out. 
“No one forced you to become an inn worker, you know? If you’re so worried about money then you could’ve just found another high paying job.” Satoru wrinkles his nose and his volume continues to rise. 
You immediately offer him a dark glare and it comes off in a cut-throat way that shuts Satoru up mid thought. The rest of his counters die in his throat when you start making hand gestures at the office exit and he gets the hint: ‘leave before I lose my shit’ is the calling he sees.
And it works, because he finds his tone shifting a little, awkwardly kicking the floor and backing off. “Whatever…”
That was last night and, by now, Satoru is realizing that he’s kind of a giant asshole and the guilt is slowly eating away at him. Was he always like this? It couldn’t have been — he’s only met you a few days ago, and this is only meant to be a quick, ‘vacational’, getaway. Sure he might be a bit selfish and a dick, but he had been able to function perfectly fine before all of this, hadn’t he? 
Satoru’s not really sure.
It’s noon, and he’s lying in bed. Choso had asked him to cover his shift at the cafe, and he’d agreed, readily, even though it’s supposed to be his day off, because you’re working. Choso had texted him, though, saying that you had simply said you’d work the entire shift by yourself.
Of course. It’s absolutely not funny anymore.
Satoru sighs. He’s going to apologize, that’s for sure. It wounds some of his pride, yeah, but whatever, this tension between you guys, though, isn’t worth it. He finds himself wasting his entire morning away rotting in bed. There are things that he could be doing, that he looks forward to, like feeding the reindeers or demonstrating basic ski moves to little kids. Choso and Yuuji totally got him addicted to yelling out ‘pizza’ and ‘french fry’ at every chance he gets. They also got him addicted to a shitty relationship forum they both browse, but somehow the idea of reading other people’s relationship drama, when he’s facing drama of his own, is kinda mentally exhausting.
On second thought, maybe he should post on that forum, actually.
It might not be such a bad idea.
Or maybe he could reach out to Suguru and ask how to apologize? 
His best friend is a bit more grounded and attuned with other people’s feelings compared to him, afterall. Satoru’s not good at this stuff and he’s always just cut others off whenever they do argue, but this feels different. And, well, for the first time in forever, Satoru is desperate. 
“I fucked up big time and I need to apologize, help me out here?”
Suguru scoffs over the line. “Wow, what happened to saying ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’?”
Satoru rolls his eyes. “Hi, hello. How are you? How do I make a sincere apology?”
“I’m good, thank you. Now, for your request, depends on how big the fuck up is.”
He bites his tongue, finding the right words to essentially not sound like a huge dick but, no matter how he wants to rephrase it, the outcome is the same. “I might’ve implied that she’s poor and needs someone to take care of her?” It sounds so stupid, so mean, and so degrading now that he’s saying it out loud. 
He hears Suguru sucking in his teeth and sighs. After a couple of pauses, his best friend finally speaks. “That’s pretty fucked up.”
Satoru frowns. “Okay, yeah, it is,” and he sits up in his bed when a snowball makes an impact against the window. It’s Utahime. And, currently, she’s throwing him the nastiest glare that a woman has ever given him in his life. “Um, I’ll call you back, buddy…”
“What? I haven’t given you—”
“Don’t have time for unwarranted advice right now.”
“You called me!”
“Bye!” Satoru ends the call before shuffling towards the window, swallowing a hard lump, and inches the glass panel just small enough for him to hear coherently and not big enough for her to punt him across the face. “Lovely morning, isn’t it?”
But Utahime is in an obvious shitty mood and Satoru’s lack of charming antics aren’t going to work this time. “I’m going to apologize, I promise,” he tries to insist.
“This is all your fault,” she immediately gets to the point and it makes him shrink back just a tiny bit. He’s starting to see that the bluntness runs in the family. “Just get your ass to work.”
“But my shift doesn’t start till—”
“Doesn’t matter,” Utahime starts to form an even bigger snowball and raises it to the window panel. “Ass out of bed, now.”
Okay, so as much as Satoru had tried to tell himself that this week wouldn’t be bad, it’s really starting to get fucking awful.
Everyone’s in a shit mood. Yuuji tries to crack some jokes but the usual crowd isn’t having it. You’ve been throwing Satoru dirty looks while working behind the cafe counter together and he’s been put on drink duty — which is his worst nightmare — while you’re attending to the customers because you’re young and cute enough for them to be nice to you. Satoru has spilled hot coffee and chocolate on himself like four times so far, and the shift just started. He’s terrified that the rest of this week is going to be like this.
“Can we talk?” Satoru whisper shouts over the espresso machine.
He sees your shoulders tensing up but immediately relaxes them afterwards. “Did you hear something, Yuuji?”
The boy looks up from the bar counter, it’s his day off and he’s catching up on some homework, but the seemingly growing tension that’s unfolding in front of him is making it painfully hard for him to focus on anything engineering related. Yuuji scratches the back of his neck before darting his eyes back and forth between the two of you. Normally, he would be the voice of reason, but Satoru doesn’t blame him when he shakes his head.
“N-Nah, must’ve been the wind or something...” 
Great, he’s been reduced to an air draft.
“Mhm, that’s what I thought,” you agree without missing a beat. As the next customer in line spends an eternity holding everyone up, debating whether to get the seasonal muffin or french toast to go with their drink, you continue, “Thought I heard a rotten brat for a second.”
He absolutely doesn’t expect the harsh insult. Satoru widens his eyes at the outburst and there’s a small pause, the silence ticking in between everyone, and he’s sure that you’re glaring him down somewhere in a small reflection on the counter. 
Satoru debates whether to call out your name and shake some sense into you, but Yuuji quickly swallows and makes a motion with his hands to his throat, a universal signal saying — ‘I wouldn’t test the waters, if I were you’.
And, after the customer finally decides that they didn’t want any pastries with their coffee order, you finish the transaction before announcing that you’re going on a small fifteen minute break to “stretch”. Though, anyone could see that you’re planning to cool off before you manage to actually blow up in Satoru’s face.
“How the hell am I going to talk to her?” he groans to Yuuji once you’re finally away. He’s managing the cash register and, surprisingly, finishes taking the remaining orders quite smoothly compared to his first day. At least he can pat himself on the back for this. 
“You’ve really pissed her off, dude,” Yuuji replies and Satoru just rolls his eyes because that’s all he’s been hearing from everyone else all day today. “You should talk to her when she’s not… charged up.”
“Way to point out the obvious.” Sometimes he forgets that Yuuji is a bit oblivious. How is he doing so well as a mechanical engineering major? 
Yuuji makes an audible ‘pop’ and whistles. “What did you even say to her?”
Satoru groans into his hands. “Did she not tell you?”
“Well, she wasn’t exactly in a chippy mood to talk about anything this morning — outside of work, that is.”
“Here’s a little TLDR version: might’ve said something classist.”
“Might’ve?”
“Okay, definitely said something classist.”
“Then…” Yuuji drums his fingers against the counter, deep in thought. “Y’know, whenever me and Megumi fight, I always invite him out to the movies to try and cheer him up. Might not be applicable to you but…”
Satoru blinks. “Are you suggesting a date would help?”
“Maybe not a date—”
“No, I’m sorry for calling you dumb, you’re so right—a nice date might work!”
“You never called me dumb, though?”
“Yeah, okay, whatever you say, kiddo.”
Satoru unravels the ribbon on his apron and throws it in Yuuji’s general direction, not caring if he tossed the stained uniform directly in his face. He hops the counter and pats the younger male on the shoulder, flashing him a genuine smile because, hey, maybe Yuuji actually is smarter than he looks.
“Gonna totally invite you to the wedding.”
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It’s no secret that Satoru Gojo hasn’t been on a proper date in a pathetically long time.
He has swiped right on a number of highly influential celebrities and figures on dating apps before. Matched with nearly all of them. Gone on…maybe a lot of first dates with not a lot of second dates coming right after. Who cares though, everyone’s just there for the photos and followers anyway. Satoru knows that he’s attractive and that he personally loves big, lavish dates but, at this point, he knows you enough to understand you absolutely hate big gestures. 
After a short winded conversation with Suguru and Utahime, separately, Satoru has concluded on not buying you first class tickets to Malaysia. 
“Are you trying to get her to hate your guts?” Was the general consensus of the conversation with said people. 
So, what’s the next best option if he can’t fly you out to Malaysia? The answer is pretty simple — bring Malaysia to Mistle Town. And no, he’s not going to be relying on his black card for anything, even though the back of his mind is telling him otherwise. 
Choso blinks several times at Satoru’s printed out proposal. The colorful letters and Google image photos of beaches and coconuts slapped poorly onto the document screams back at Choso and Yuuji, bright and early on Christmas Eve. 
It’s unusual for Satoru to be bouncing excitedly in place for someone other than himself. So this catches everyone off guard. 
Yuuji whispers something intangible to Choso, but Satoru is able to make it out as, “Do we even have coconuts here?”
To which Choso replies, “It’s winter, so I don’t think so.”
And Yuuji moves onto the next question in queue, “What should we do about the lack of palm trees?”
A patient sigh from Choso, “We could always trim the pine trees outside?” He lamely suggests. 
“It’s a good idea, no?” Satoru jumps right back in, completely missing the flat vibe from the brothers. He frowns. “Why are you guys giving me that look?” 
And, like his best friend and your sister, the brothers throw him a confused head tilt. 
“Well,” Yuuji weakly starts, “Your plan ‘Project: Bring Malaysia here in hopes of Y/N falling in love with me’ doesn’t really sound that great… even on paper.”
Satoru grins, fully expecting that to be the response. “I’ll order the things, don’t worry about it. I just need to borrow your lungs for this project.”
Yuuji scratches his cheek in confusion, laughing nervously again. “Our lungs…?” he echos. 
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“How long do I have to keep this dumb blindfold on, Choso?”
“U-Um,” Choso shoots Satoru a brow as he carefully guides you through the hotel lobby. 
It’s currently decked out from head to toe in all things yellow, green, and pink beach themed inflatables. Choso and Yuuji reminded Satoru last night that maybe two flamingos would’ve been enough to get the message across, but seeing that he ordered a whole colony? Yeah, he’s sending the rich boy prayers as he reels you in further, avoiding collision with the colorful balloons and seven-foot tall palm trees, too.
“Choso?”
He squeezes your shoulders when Satoru shoots him a thumbs up. “Ten seconds.”
Satoru quietly walks over to both of you, tip toeing so the sounds of his loafers are minimized against the flooring. Once he’s inches away, Choso retreats off into a different room, mouthing to him words of final encouragement, which Satoru gladly took. 
You appear restless under the blindfold. “I swear to god, if I take it off and there’s a giant pile of reindeer shit in the middle of the lobby I will actually kill somebody—”
And Satoru quietly debates whether or not he wants to keep you like this for a little while before revealing the big surprise. Seeing you flustered and confused is a very cute look on you, after all. But, he’s gotten you this far and it would absolutely kill him to leave you on such a bad notice. It’s now early evening, and the sun’s just starting to set enough that the golden rays illuminate your features from this angle. It takes Satoru back to his first private meeting with you on the balcony and he remembers why he’s even doing this in the first place.
Carefully and slowly, he slips down the blindfold and softly calls out your name. “Hey, take a look around you.”
Your eyes are blown wide when you see his face. Anger and frustration dissipate from your face when you soon realize that Satoru carries a soft expression. He watches as the emotions wash off as quickly as they came. Then, you finally take a look around your surroundings and gasp. “You—You did all of this for me?”
Satoru tenses a little, a bit on the edge. “You want the short or long answer?”
You don’t notice because you’re too preoccupied with the numerous fake flamingos around you. “On second thought, maybe no answer would also work.”
He laughs at this, slightly, before turning shy again. He feels silly, ashamed, and it makes his cheeks flush. “I wanted to say sorry again for what I said earlier.”
“You finally want to talk about it?”
He looks at your idle hands and then back to your face. When he sees that you don't move them away as he inches closer, he takes both of them into his palms, giving them a tight squeeze. “Yeah, I was a big idiot and I thought I was trying to help in the beginning but I just sounded—no, I am—a giant ass.” Satoru concludes. 
The atmosphere grows quiet and heavy again. The air humid and thick despite the opened windows and you’re looking at him. Then, there are tiny little smiles that break out on your face, like freckles and stars in the sky. 
“You’re such a pillow princess,” and he outright blushes ten shades darker at the nickname, “you’re lucky you’re cute.” Coming from you, that’s as good as a love confession.
I like you, he thinks, but doesn’t say it. He really likes you and doesn’t want to fuck this up.
But, everyone knows that Satoru Gojo is a child at heart. 
Satoru doesn’t know who gives in first; realistically, it might’ve been one of those stupid, rare, impossible moments where it’s completely shared. Suddenly the gaudy blow up palm trees and inflatable pool blur from his vision and he feels the world roaring around him when your palms rest on his cheeks. He ducks his head down but you’re the one who closes the distance between. 
You taste like strawberries and lavender, smell like warm cocoa, and feel softer than any sherpa blanket he’s had. Satoru closes his eyes and his vision goes white, his hands shakily snake around your waist, pressing you hard against his chest as if you might disappear at any moment. Satoru sighs into the kiss, it feels pleasantly warm, that throb in his chest, it’s a slow, steady thrum of simmering desire and comfort. He’s pretty sure he’s adding way too much tongue, the drool and saliva that comes dripping between you two will be uncomfortable soon, but for now, it adds to the blissed out, satisfaction you’re both basking in.
Finally, you pull away, shortening yourself a good several inches from planting the rest of your feet on the ground. Your eyes are glossed over, watery and looking at him without vexation. “You’re something else.” You say, but there’s no bite.
Satoru doesn’t speak for a moment. He’s too focused on the feeling of your warm fingers sprawled all over his heating face. Too focused on the dull pulse of both nervousness and infatuation slowly spreading through his body because you’re giving him that look. This all feels romantic and stupid, he thinks.
“I’m sorry, again.” The words are quiet, hesitant, and Satoru almost regrets them the moment he speaks.
You shift around a little, now dancing on the balls of your feet, but the grasp you have on his cheeks is still relatively firm, even applying a bit of more pressure as if it’s your way of showing reassurance. You tip your head; your eyes are so vivid and bright, it sends a shiver down Satoru’s spine. In this moment, he remembers every single thing between them in shocking detail — the awkwardness, the tension, the frustration, the dumb banters, and suddenly he’s overwhelmed.
“I’ll forgive you if you give me a private city tour,” you laugh. “And come back to work with us again next year.”
Satoru offers a small smile. “Unpaid?”
“Will you say no if it is?”
He hugs you tighter, a chuckle bubbles in his throat. “I don’t think I can say no because it’s you.”
Though, while some might think that Satoru is the real loser here for being whipped so hard over a small town girl, you know that deep down the real loser is you. Because you managed to have the son of a CEO wrapped around your fingers and now you will never know peace again. But you’re not really complaining; instead, you’re working even harder to save just enough to eventually see your dream destination while Satoru whines and sends an ungodly amount of selfies everyday when he’s back home. And you won’t allow yourself to get snappy because, well, you’re very much head over heels for him, too.
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© 2023 DOOBEA. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.
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libraryofgage · 6 months
Text
Good Vibrations Part One
Hello, it's me, back at it again with another Steddie AU.
Anyway, if I were tagging this AU, these would be the most important ones: Deaf Steve Harrington; Tooth-rotting Fluff; Getting Together
If you wanna be tagged in future parts, just let me know!
As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)
----
Steve has blown through three pairs of hearing aids in the past year. The first pair had lasted a few years and needed replacement because of normal wear and tear. The second pair was sacrificed during that fight with Jonathan. He hadn't been wearing them, but they'd been in Steve's pocket, and he'd landed at just the right angle to feel them shatter. The third pair was taken by the Russians because, despite Robin's shouting and cursing at them for being dumbasses (and this was before she actually knew what they were for), they accused him of recording their kidnapping and torture.
Honestly, he wouldn't recommend fighting Russians and Billy and Mind Flayers and driving while nearly totally deaf.
The funniest part of it all, though, is that Steve doesn't even use hearing aids regularly. He normally only wears them at home. The pair lost to Jonathan were present because, well, that whole day had been a lot for Steve, and he needed the comfort of knowing he could stop reading lips the moment it became too exhausting for him. The pair lost to the Russians was because he'd been getting ready to tell Robin about being deaf. She'd already clocked the weird things he does (well, weird to her, normal to Steve), and he figured letting her in on the big secret would bring them a little closer.
Of course, that didn't go the way he expected. Robin thought he was confessing love and decided to beat him to the punch. That's how he learned Robin is a lesbian, and Steve couldn't let her be the only one admitting to something like that, so he told her about being bi and his long-standing, hopeless crush. And being deaf. But the bi with a crush thing seemed more important in the moment. She took it in stride, it brought them closer, and then Robin asked if Steve could teach her sign language.
Which meant that Steve had to learn sign language because he never had. Between not wanting to feel even more different than he already did and trying to convince his parents that, really, everything was fine and he didn't need to go to a special school for deaf and hard-of-hearing kids, he'd never learned. Learning it had somehow felt like an admission of weakness, and that was the last thing he wanted. But he learned for Robin, and they stumbled through sign language together, creating new signs only they knew.
But that's all in the past now, and Steve is working his ass off at Family Video to afford a new pair because he refuses to ask his parents for money. If he asks them, they'll come back, and that's the last thing he wants. They don't need to have all their worries confirmed that Steve is helpless, and he doesn't want them anywhere near Hawkins "Hellscape" Indiana.
So. Working his ass off, taking extra shifts, and babysitting the kids as much as he can to make up for the whole Friends and Family Discount he gives their parents. He's exhausted, but he gets to recharge somewhat during his lunch break.
About a ten-minute walk from the Family Video is a record store, which Steve has started visiting daily to just breathe. The lone worker in the store is usually too busy listening to her own music to pay Steve any attention, letting him wander and try to determine which records will best serve him.
Steve drifts over to the rock and heavy metal section, hoping to find a new album but unsurprised when he doesn't. He browses through them anyway, moving past Metallica and Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden. He already has all of these albums on his shelf at home. He has the cassette tapes for them, too.
But he really wants something new. He likes the novelty of experiencing unfamiliar vibrations through the speaker, letting them thrum through his fingertips and into his bones. It's fun and relaxing, and after all the bullshit he's been through lately, he probably deserves something relaxing.
After glancing over a few more familiar albums, Steve sighs and glances at the counter by the door. The lone worker is standing there, headphones over her ears, and idly flipping through a magazine. She's chewing gum, and Steve braces himself for the sheer hell of trying to read her lips without making it obvious he's reading her lips while she's got something in her mouth to disrupt the normal shape of words and sounds.
But he has to try. Steve takes one more deep breath before walking over, shoving his hands into his pockets when he comes to a stop at the counter. The girl raises a hand, motioning for him to wait, so he stays quiet as she finishes reading her page. She flips to the next one before looking up, not making any move to pull her headphones off.
"Hi. Do you have any new rock or metal albums coming in soon," Steve asks, feeling the vibrations of speech in his throat and hoping his words aren't too loud.
They don't seem to be. The girl doesn't flinch or pull back. She just looks him up and down, taking in the polo shirt and the nice khakis and the Family Video vest he forgot to take off before leaving. Finally, her neck and shoulders jerk slightly, and Steve knows she's huffed in annoyance. "No," she says, the word clear enough in the shape of her lips for Steve to know it immediately.
He frowns slightly, his fingernails digging into his palms. Steve wouldn't mind just leaving now, but something keeps him there. He just...he really wants new music. He needs something new. "Are there gonna be any shows nearby?" he asks.
The girl rolls her eyes and says something, her mouth distorted by gum-chewing. Steve can barely make out the words "you" and "check" from her response. Thankfully, it's accompanied by a vague gesture at something behind him. Steve looks over his shoulder to see a bulletin board with flyers plastered across it.
"Right. Thanks," he says, nodding to her before walking over. The flyers are all different colors with various fonts that scream for Steve's attention. Some of them are for bands, some are advertisements of garage sales or instruments in need of a new home, and others are just business flyers from stores nearby.
He's seen the bulletin board before, but he's never actually paid attention to it. Steve has always been laser-focused on browsing the records. But now, Steve carefully reviews each flyer advertising shows. Some are for comedy shows, which he immediately dismisses. One seems promising, but then he sees how far it is, and Steve definitely can't do an overnight trip like that.
Finally, Steve sees a flyer advertising a show at the Hideout later that week. It's close enough that he won't be out overnight. The place is kind of seedy, but Steve figures he can find some corner near the stage to hide. Or he can bring Robin and let her help him navigate any potential social situations. He tugs the flyer off the board, gaze lingering on the "Corroded Coffin" emblazoned across the top.
He knows the band. Of course, he knows the band. He's extremely familiar with their singer. From a distance. Honestly, Eddie Munson probably doesn't have the best impression of him, but Steve's heart never really cared about that. Because Eddie is like everything Steve wants to be: he's loud and unafraid of being so, he doesn't care about his image and how others perceive him, and he looks like his laugh sounds beautiful. Steve wouldn't know if he's actually right about that last point, but Eddie throws his head back when he laughs, eyes crinkled and hand over his stomach like his muscles ache.
His mouth suddenly feels dry, but he's also filled with unprecedented courage. Steve has graduated (barely), and that means a significantly lower chance of running into Eddie during the day if watching the show somehow goes wrong.
Steve folds the flyer into quarters and stuffs it into his back pocket. He'll be overly aware of it being there until Robin starts her shift and he can show it to her, but that's okay. He throws a quick thanks over his shoulder as he leaves the shop, glancing up at the bell he can't hear that signals the door's opening. He vaguely remembers what bells are supposed to sound like (he'd heard a few before losing the ability to hear them), but he doesn't let himself dwell on it.
Instead, he focuses on the trip back to Family Video, keeping an eye on the road to watch for any cars he wouldn't notice otherwise.
----
When the final bell rings, Eddie Munson can't get out of class fast enough. He'd been packed for the last five minutes, and he slid out of his seat the moment that first peal rang out. He has a gig to prepare for, and every second counts. At least, each second counts until he notices something (or someone) that could prove entertaining for a while.
He spots Dustin alone near one of the exits, and Eddie decides to relieve the kid of his isolation. He waits until he's behind Dustin to shout, "Henderson!" and throw his arm over the kid's shoulders, ignoring the way he jumps like he'd been expecting an attack.
"Holy shit!" Dustin shrieks, jerking back to look up at Eddie. "Don't do that, man, you're gonna give me a heart attack."
Eddie snorts, waving away Dustin's concern as he continues toward the exit. The general flow of students trying to get out helps him along, and Dustin doesn't seem to realize they're actually moving until they've gotten into direct sunlight. "You're fine," Eddie says, "Anyway, whatcha doing all alone, Henderson? Lose your way?"
"No, I have...stuff to do today," Dustin says, shrugging as he blinks to acclimate to the sunlight.
Oh, yeah, way too cryptic for Eddie to not dig for more. "Stuff? What kinda stuff? Got a hot date? Going shopping with your mom?" he asks, and then he gasps dramatically and moves to stand in Dustin's way. He puts both hands on his shoulders and very seriously says, "Be honest, Henderson, you're seeing another DM, aren't you?"
Dustin stares at him for a few seconds before rolling his eyes and shrugging his hands off. "Who else in this town DMs?" he asks, "Other than Will, I guess, but he's still working on a campaign."
"Fair," Eddie concedes, "so, whatcha really doing?"
After a few seconds of getting nudged by the students around them, Dustin sighs and says, "I have chores, okay? But that doesn't sound cool to say, does it?"
Fair. Eddie nods in agreement and moves out of Dustin's way, continuing to follow him. "So, what, your mom picking you up today?" he asks.
"No, Steve."
"Oh, the famous Steve."
Dustin nods, looking over the parking lot before pointing to one end. "Yeah, he's awesome," Dustin says as Eddie follows the direction of his finger.
And standing there, leaning against the hood of his car and looking to the side where a group of trees is swaying in the breeze, is Steve Harrington. Steve "The Hair" Harrington. King Steve. The worst thing, Eddie thinks, is that Steve looks good. His hair is still perfect, of course, and his stupid little striped shirt is pulling against his biceps and riding up just enough for Eddie to see a tiny sliver of tanned skin above his jeans. He looks a little tense, but Eddie chalks that up to him being back on the campus after already graduating.
"Harrington? You've been talking about Steve Harrington this whole time?" Eddie asks, his voice a little strained, "How the fuck do you know Steve Harrington?"
"He's my babysitter," Dustin says, his voice implying that much should have been obvious, but Eddie wants to grab his shoulders and shake until his head rolls off.
Steve Harrington doesn't babysit. He doesn't know nerds that talk about D&D. He doesn't drive nerds around. At least, he never did in high school. Granted, Eddie never actually talked to Steve, but everybody knew that Steve Harrington was too cool for, well, anything that wasn't the typical jock and popular guy shit.
As he's thinking about the last time he saw Steve Harrington (in the halls, while the guy had bruises and looked worse for wear), they get within shouting distance. And Eddie has zero impulse control when Wayne isn't around, so he doesn't think before shouting, "Hey, Harrington!"
Next to him, Dustin whips his head to glare at Eddie. And Steve Harrington doesn't fucking react. He just keeps staring at that group of trees like it's the most fascinating thing in the world. "Dude," Dustin says, grabbing Eddie's arm and yanking harshly, "don't shout like that."
Eddie frowns, anger beginning to simmer in his stomach at the complete lack of acknowledgment. "Why are you upset with me?" he asks, gesturing at Steve as he continues, "I'm not the one being a douchebag here."
Dustin opens his mouth, about to say something, only to snap it shut once more. He frowns like he's just realized he can't say something, and huffs with frustration. "Just...just don't do that," he finally says, keeping a hand on Eddie's arm and dragging him across the parking lot. And, yeah, something is definitely weird here.
Instead of just walking up to Steve, they make a large arch until they're within Steve's line of sight.
Eddie watches as Steve notices them, seeing Dustin first and pushing off the car. He relaxes for a split second until he sees Eddie and his shoulders tense again.
Great.
Once they're close enough for Eddie to count the moles above the collar of Steve's shirt, Dustin grins and says, "Hey, Steve." But it's odd, because Eddie has never heard Dustin talk this slow or this carefully, like he's doing his best to enunciate his words.
Steve flashes a grin and ruffles Dustin's hair. "Hey, twerp, you're late," he says. He then glances at Eddie, his grin becoming a little smaller, and says, "Hey, Munson."
Wait. Steve Harrington knows Eddie's name? And he called him by it? He said Munson, not Freak. Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds before nodding. "Harrington," he says, "how the fuck did you become a babysitter?"
Is he just imagining things, or is Steve looking at his mouth? Like, really intensely. He's definitely not, because Steve looks up after a few seconds with a raised eyebrow. "I needed some extra cash. Also, don't swear around Dustin. I'm the one who gets in trouble when he curses in front of his mom."
Something about the words makes Eddie grin. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he'd be talking to Steve Harrington. And he would have laughed you into Mordor itself if you suggested their conversation would be about Dustin Henderson swearing in front of his mother. "What's his mom do when he swears?" he asks.
Because he can feel the conversation veering into something potentially embarrassing for him, Dustin lets go of Eddie and starts pushing Steve toward the driver's side of his car. "Okay, we gotta go. So many chores, so little time," he says, his voice back to that normal speed and enunciation.
Steve frowns slightly, looking down at Dustin and tilting his head just slightly. "What?" he asks. Instead of actually answering, Dustin just makes some vague gesture with his hand and looks at the car. "Oh, right. Go ahead and get in the car. And, uh, see you later, Munson."
"Is that a promise?" Eddie asks before he can think better of it.
Steve pauses, looking at Eddie's mouth with a slight scrunch to his nose. He seems to be considering something as Dustin scrambles into the passenger seat, watching them with narrowed eyes. Honestly, Eddie is surprised he's not blasting the horn to hurry Steve up. Finally, Steve comes to a decision and meets Eddie's eyes again. "Your band has a show tonight, right? At the Hideout? I was planning to go. So, yeah, I'll see you then, I guess."
And with that, like he hasn't just fucking rocked Eddie's world, Steve Harrington gets into his car. He makes sure Dustin is buckled before waving at Eddie and pulling out of the parking spot.
Eddie finds himself waving back, staring dumbly at the car as it pulls onto the street. It only hits him a few seconds later that Steve Harrington is coming to his show. At the Hideout. His metal show. A Corroded Coffin gig at the Hideout.
Holy. Shit.
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emilybeemartin · 6 months
Text
Boromir Lives AU: We Didn't Have a Choice
Alternate title is They're All Just Kids With PTSD, Your Honor
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This (ridiculously long? omg why so long, I did not mean for it to be this long) comic is a good example of how my plotlines usually develop---I'll write what I think is a self-contained story and then realize there are whole new narratives beyond it. This is how my first novel, Woodwalker, became a trilogy---I was writing it as a standalone novel until about the last three or four chapters, when I realized I'd kicked off a whole new series of political events. For this AU, I was thinking about how it would feel for Elboron to grow up in the long shadow of his parents, and idolizing his uncle(s) while also wondering how he'd ever measure up. For Boromir, I think he'd be so fulfilled to see his nephew get to come of age in a gentler world that he and his brother and all the others didn't get. Though if he had a future as anything other than a soldier I'm pretty sure it would be as a TikTok star showing us how to create a perfect ballerina bun. Show us your products, Boromir, dang.
This comic also reminded me that I clearly have a distinct set of author tropes because this has STRONG Veran vibes (Sunshield, Floodpath), with a young character feeling overwhelmed with the legacies of his parents. This is a bit of an opposite arc, though--- Veran wants to follow in his mother's footsteps but isn't allowed to, and so gravitates toward diplomacy, while Elboron feels pressured to take up soldiering like his namesake but would rather study language. Come to think of it, the manuscript I turned into my agent a few weeks ago also has some of these themes, which either means I need to stop writing quest follow-ups or start a Protagonists With Heroes For Parents support group.
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Boromir Lives: Helm's Deep
Boromir Lives: Whump-Time After Pelennor
Boromir Lives: GO TO SLEEP
Boromir Lives: Aragorn's Coronation
Boromir Lives: Faramir and Eowyn's Wedding
Boromir Lives: It's a BABY
Boromir Lives: High Uncle of the White Tower
Boromir Lives: The Haircuts
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rinniessance · 6 months
Text
DADDY'S FAVORITE GIRL ༊*·˚ - step dad!gojo x fem!reader
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going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to in the summer is a new step-dad. and you do not like the dangerous glint in his eyes every time he looks at you.
꒰ warnings: nsfw - dark content - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ non-curse au. step dad!gojo, stepcest, age difference (reader is implied to be 21, gojo is in his late 30s), dubcon, gaslighting, manipulation, cheating, heavy daddy kink, so many pet names (babygirl, pretty, doll, princess etc.), slight dacraphyllia, slight overstimulation, breeding kink, unprotected sex, virginity loss, corruption kink. plot is kinda messy 'cause i was rushing to get to the smut, sowwy ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ // word count: 5.1k ꒱ ꒰ notes: i am freely being my most disgusting self, thank you for supporting my little insane brain .ᐟ.ᐟ꒱
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going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to during summer break is a new step-dad. ever since your parents divorced when you were 14, your mom has been single – your teenage years, she dedicated herself to you, protecting you from your scumbag father, focusing on your future. you even agreed to delay your college admittance until you were 20, taking two gap years after your high school to stay at your hometown with her. your mom has the worst case of separation anxiety – which is why maybe you should’ve been more concerned when she gradually stopped texting you as the days went on. you assumed the best – maybe she found a hobby, maybe she reconnected with old friends, maybe she finally realized you are an adult and stopped babying you every waking moment. what you did not expect is for her to get married.
these are the thoughts running through you head as you stand in the middle of your living room, fresh out the airport, gawking at the man sleeping on the couch, and wonder how the fuck that happened. you would’ve honestly screamed and thought this was a squatter, or a robber, if not for all the wedding pictures obnoxiously decorating almost every available surface (god, how many photos do you need?). you try not to think too much about it – the flight was 6 hours, you barely got any sleep sitting to the smelliest man on the planet, and you just want to take a shower and go to bed. just as you start walking off, the front door swings open.
“oh my god, sweetheart, you’re home!” your mom’s voice booms through the quiet room resonating like a thunderclap in the middle of a still field. she runs to you, immediately pulling you into a hug which you happily return. you’re genuinely delighted to see her, albeit feeling a little weirded out by a man she decided to bring home. your mother looks over to the couch, man’s sleeping figure not moving once, and sighs with exasperation. “i assume he didn’t pick you up?”
“no but it’s okay…” you whisper quietly and gesture towards the figure on the couch with your head, “about that, though…”
“yeah, honey, i know, i am sorry i didn’t tell you. everything has been happening so quickly, i haven’t even had time to process it myself!” she squealed like a school girl. “his name is satoru gojo and we met at the charity event i went to six months ago.”
“since when do you attend charity events?” you ask, quirking the brow upwards.
“oh, i didn’t know what to do with myself ever since you moved out so i’ve been trying anything and everything. and look, the results have been phenomenal!” she giggled, frustration she had towards her husband about not picking you up melting away in front of your eyes. god, he really had her wrapped around his finger.
“okay, well, i am kind of tired so i wanted to go to bed. is it okay if we talk about this tomorrow?”
your mom suddenly looks down at her feet, a little embarrassed. what did she do.
“yes, about that… that room was sitting unutilized the whole time you were away so satoru and i thought it would be a good idea to remake it into a home office, kind of. your bed is still in there though! so you can sleep in the room no problem.”
“mom, what the fuck…” you whine. not only your room with all your memories and all your personality was gone and demolished, you now have to sleep in the room that was most likely used by him. “home office” my ass, you thought – your mom would not need it in a million years, and by the way she’s avoiding your gaze in shame, it was definitely not her idea.
“i’m sorry baby, but you’ve been away and…”
you interrupt her with a wave of your hand.
“whatever, i’m too tired to think about it. i’ll take a shower and go to bed, i don’t wanna deal with him until tomorrow,” you sigh with frustration and walk off into your home office, dropping your things on the floor.
what you don’t see as you walk off is the dangerous glint in satoru’s eyes as he listens to every bits of your conversation. you said the last sentence with so much poison, he thinks it might’ve struck him dead. gojo knows it will be difficult to get on your good side now but he likes to play these games on hard mode.
oh, you will be so much fun to break.
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gojo satoru is a patient man – when he really wants something, he is content to wait until he gets it. that being the main reason why he approaches you slowly. it’s the next day after you arrive that he has a chance to introduce himself properly.
you leave the room after having the best night’s sleep – you really didn’t mind waking up in the office today, you must’ve been too tired to think straight and threw a fit yesterday. you make a mental note to apologize to your mom later. as you turn into the kitchen, you’re met with the view you wish did not have such a strong effect on you – your step-dad, freshly out of the shower, grey sweatpants low riding on his hips, is preparing what seems to be breakfast.
you’re so fucked.
you try to shake off the feeling of arousal washing over you. you may not have had a chance to have any sexual experiences yet, but you’re not that much of a virgin not to know when you’re feeling horny. you just wish it wasn’t due to the incredibly hot step-dad. the left-over frustration from previous night bubbles up like over spilled champagne and you decide to keep your distance. anger helps you keep yourself grounded, and you maneuver around the man to make breakfast, but you see that he prepared it for you already.
“oh, thank you,” you say quietly as he extends the plate to you.
“you’re very welcome, sweetheart.”
the nickname sends a shiver down your spine.
gojo turns to face you and gives you his breathtaking smile. you want to choke on your toast.
“i wanted to apologize for not picking you up yesterday. your mom told me so much about you, and i was excited to meet her ‘favorite girl’,” his eyes spark with a dangerous glint at the nickname, making you shrink into yourself, “but my work held me up, and then i think i went for a quick nap and… uh… ended up falling asleep,” he says with a light chuckle.
“that’s okay, i didn’t really mind the train ride,” you respond with visible discomfort,
he now stands next to you by the counter, his body heat palpable, melting over you like a scorching son. gojo’s all-teeth smile is gorgeous, frustratingly enough, but it makes your skin crawl: like a prey walking into the carefully designed trap, you can feel your gut asking you to run. it makes sense your mom fell for him so easily.
“will you let me make up for it? let’s go our for a dinner, i’m sure your mom would be delighted to hear we’re trying to get along.”
“i don’t know, i haven’t seen my friends in some time, i think i’ll be hanging out with them for a while,” you shuffle from leg to leg, trying to move away
“that’s okay, we have a whole summer ahead.”
for some reason it felt more like a threat than a promise.
you smile politely back, not knowing what to say, rushing to finish your breakfast. the image of your step-dad, half-naked in your family kitchen talking to you about his plans with you for the whole summer should be weird – it’s difficult to find it weird when the said step-dad is criminally hot, unfortunately.
“i think i’ll go now, thanks for the breakfast,” gojo’s gives you a smile so sweet, it somehow triggers a toothache, and waves you off. since yesterday, he’s been making you feel extremely on edge for no apparent reason, it’s driving you a little insane.
when you come back home that evening, you are greeted by both your mom and satoru with the dinner ready. she babbles about how great of a cook he is, and that she can’t wait until you try it. you politely decline citing that you’re full and quickly leave for your room – satoru’s blue eyes were looking at you with almost an animalistic stare, and you hated that you liked it.
gojo thought things were going well with you – he’s given you the space you need in the first two weeks after you arrived. your mom was overjoyed seeing how deeply satoru already cared about you – making sure you eat in the morning, not letting you go to bed without a meal, always checking on you throughout the day, keeping you safe. you, however, thought it was… weird, if anything, that he was all around you this intensely.
“oh, honey, that’s just how he shows that he cares. he was like that with me as well,” your mom tells you one of the nights when you bring it up. it worries you how easily she takes his side now and wonder if something else is going on.
satoru picks you up when you stay out too late, to the wee hour of the night when the subways stop running; he makes sure you have your nights with your mom, when he doesn’t intrude on your backyard conversations and only adores you pretty features from his second-floor window; he learns what movies and music and tv you like, trying to decipher the person that is you.
he’s been putting all this effort to get to know your every step – then why the fuck does he find you one night you kissing some random boy on your driveway?
you said you were going out today and no pickup was needed – now it makes sense why.
gojo satoru is a patient man. but even his patience can start running thin, trickling like water through cracks in the fingers. hourglass of his kindness has been half full for a while now – it’s about time the sand runs out.
you think a boy like him can give you what satoru can? just you wait and see.
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kitchen is uncharacteristically quiet when you walk in. it’s the next morning, and usually by now, satoru would be making breakfast for you. his job is still unknown – you are not sure if he was suddenly called in but the feeling of happy solitude falls over you, even if for a moment.
your mom is gone at least for two weeks for work, you’re dreading the moment you have to be left alone with your step-dad. the look in his eyes yesterday was dangerous, a predator appraising its victim before sinking its teeth in, and you’re happy megumi was able to leave quickly after walking you home. surprisingly, gojo didn’t say you a word when you walked into the house, silently sitting in front of the tv like he didn’t just spy through the window on your kiss with the boy.
air in the room was heavy with tension – you knew satoru was avoiding looking your way, jaw clenched, hands balled into fists. instinctively, you wanted to break the silence, say something to discharge the electricity jumping through the atoms of your stuffy living room air, but ultimately decided against it. you have nothing to say to a man, and it’s not like you needed to justify your actions in front of him anyways. you quickly retreated into the office and avoided him until you fell asleep.
when you woke up to an empty apartment not even fifteen minutes ago, you felt relief. walking into the kitchen and confirming your presence alone, you even felt happy. then what is this weird feeling, almost as if you are missing something, nagging at you? you thought of going out today but now a strange desire to stay at home washes over.
you make breakfast for the first time since you came home (gojo didn’t skip a single day, you have no idea how he kept up with that), and you chastise yourself for feeling weird about cooking for yourself; and you chastise yourself again when your mind lingers on the thoughts of a certain white-haired man; and again when you look at your phone, convincing yourself it’s a bad idea to text him. god, you feel so stupid. didn’t you want him to stop being so unsettlingly sweet and dotting around you all the time?
conflicted by your irrationality once again, you frustratingly take your plate and sit down on the couch. flipping through the netlifx previews, you land on something to distract your mind by. you settle on some true crime documentary and let the horrors on the screen consume you, abandoning for a moment the thoughts plaguing your head.
you’ve been glued to the screen for at least two hours before you heard the jiggle of the keys. like an eager puppy, you waited for gojo to come inside and greet you like he would every day – only for him to completely ignore your presence, beelining straight for the kitchen. turning your head back to the tv, you try your best not to pay any attention to the uncharacteristic behavior from satoru’s end.
“i will be in the home office the whole day, don’t enter.”
before you can respond anything back, your step-dad is already walking off without sparing you a second glance. is he still upset from yesterday? you didn’t think kissing megumi would be that much of a deal. your nervously play with the hem of the blanket, show playing on tv long forgotten, contemplating what you should do next. why are you bothered by his silence this much anyways?
rethinking your earlier choice, you send a quick text to your friend asking to meet you for drinks. maybe right now gojo needs space, or whatever, and leaving him alone is the best next thing right now. you knock at the door of the home office.
“sorry, i am going out now and need to quickly change.”
not even 5 seconds pass before the door is swung open by a man that’s been occupying too much of your mental space today.
“be quick,” is the only response you get before he leaves the room and closes the door behind him. you’re perplexed by this sudden change in behavior yet again. throwing on the first decent outfit you can find, you let gojo know that you’re done and will be home later; hum is the only acknowledgment you get before he disappears in the office.
exiling all the thoughts of satoru gojo from your head, you leave your house, hoping tomorrow will put all the pieces of the puzzle back together.
yet the next day comes, and you still wake up to no warmth from satoru – it felt as if he built a wall between the two of you in one night’s span, impossible to be breached. should you talk to him? should you apologize? and apologize for what? you didn’t do anything wrong, did you? ignoring the gnawing feeling inside once more, you retreat to the living room, sulking on the couch until the end of the day, clawing onto the hope gojo of tomorrow will acknowledge your existence.
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“did i do something wrong?”
you stand in the doorway to gojo’s office, arms crossed over your chest. he lazily turns his head your way as if giving you even a second of his time is too much of a bother – the look he sends you is burning through your core, making you pathetically weak and wet.
“no,” he starts slowly, “do you think you did something wrong?”
“i don’t know! that’s why i’m asking. you’ve been ignoring me for the past week, and it’s getting weird.”
“i thought i’d leave you alone, it seems you’re capable of having fun on your own.”
satoru is looking back to his screen now, and you scrunch your eyebrows, frustrated by the riddles he’s throwing your way. walking inside the room, your close the door on instinct and take wide steps to stand in front of him.
“stop answering me like this, we’re not playing a charade. what do you mean?” the demand in your voice is clear, and it twists something inside satoru – his gaze falls on you again yet this time it’s dark, taunting, dangerous, with a hint of chaos. it scares and excites you.
gojo suddenly stands up, and pushes you into his desk until you’re sitting on it. he is tall – your mom basically married a giant – and you try to curl into yourself to escape his malicious eyes.
“what, i thought you wanted me to leave your alone? you want my attention now all of a sudden?” he respond with the question of his own in a mocking tone.
“i never said i wanted you to ignore me…” you answer meekly, yelping slightly as your back hits his desk – you suddenly realize there is nowhere to run now.
“really? we’ve been together in a house for almost a month now, and yet you showed no interest in getting to know me.”
“’m sorry…” you cannot think of anything else to say. gojo moves even closer, and is now towering over you – it makes you embarrassingly horny.
“show me how sorry you are.”
before you can respond, he is caging your body with his and capturing your lips in a kiss, and you freeze – all of this is so wrong, you cannot bring yourself to start moving your mouth against his. gojo’s tongue coerces its way inside, exploring the undiscovered paths, his teeth biting your still lips. closing your eyes, you whimper and try to push him away but he only catches your wrists with his one hand, while the other plays with the hem of your shorts. a gasp escapes your lips, and you push yourself further into the desk, squirming under gojo’s body.
“what, you don’t like it? i thought my little girl wanted daddy’s attention?” he torments you, voice condescending and thick with mockery. all you can muster is a pathetic mewl, words lost somewhere inside your throat, and dig your fingers into the edge of your desk as your step-dad forces his digits inside your panties, lightly brushing against your clit.
“god, you’re already so wet, so filthy,” he whispers between the heated kisses as the pads of his fingers keep teasing your pussy. “tell me, babygirl, are you still a virgin? gotta know how to treat you.”
“y-yes…”
“well, am i just not the luckiest?” gojo chuckles darkly, spreading your legs with his thigh. unoccupied hand goes to grip your hip while the fingers on the other are still working your clit, sliding the digits between your puffy lips, teasing your hole. every time he circles around the entrance and mocks by pushing his finger just slightly inside, the moan builds up in your throat, and you’re too embarrassed to let it out.
“common, baby, your daddy wants to hear you, don’t hide your pretty voice from me.”
gojo is infuriatingly good with his fingers – you could never bring yourself this much pleasure from playing with your clit, and your defiance starts melting away as you find yourself bucking your hips into his hand, whining pitifully. the man completely removes your shorts and underwear, shoving the latter into his pocket – something to remember this moment by.
“god, such a pretty pussy, i can’t believe you’ve been hiding it from me. take off your shirt so i can see all of you, princess.”
immense desire pools between your legs, hunger and lust evident in satoru’s cerulean eyes, now hidden by dilated pupils, and you’re surrendering yourself to him – want makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong. you remove the top, nipples perked and waiting. gojo looks at you in wonder and disbelief – all of that for him? his hand went to squeeze your boob almost on an instinct, rolling the nipple between the pads of his fingers, while sucking on another with his mouth. you drop your head back, losing yourself to the intense pleasure your step-dad’s giving you. seeing as you’re distracted by him playing with your tits, he takes this as his chance to shove two of his fingers inside.
a strangled moan leaves your lips, your hands gripping man’s shoulders.
“ahhh, that hurts, satoru.”
“nah-uh, that’s not what i want to hear you calling me,” he straightens himself and starts scissoring you with his digits. the initial intrusion is painful, you can feel your virgin walls stretching to accommodate for how he’s dragging the fingers in and out, yet the burn is woefully delightful, and you’re getting lost again.
“’m sorry daddy.”
gojo only chuckles – god, you were easier than he expected, so well-behaved and pliable under him.
“that’s right, let daddy take good care of you.”
he speeds up the pace, curling his slender, pretty fingers, brushing the spots you were never able to reach with your own. wet, soggy sounds fill the entirety of the room, air already stuffy with smell of sex as he continues to finger-fuck your pussy. gojo could feel his cock twitching in his pants, he wanted to take you right there and then, but he was determined to make you cum on his digits first – it prompts him to attach his lips to your neck, sucking on the sensitive spot below your jawline, marking you as his.
your mewling turns louder, breathing is getting labored, and it seems your hips have a mind of their own now as they are bucking into satoru’s movements, fucking yourself how you need it. something akin to orgasm starts building up in your tummy – it has never felt this all-consuming, you wonder if you’ve been touching yourself wrong all this time.
“daddy, please don’t – ah! – stop,” is everything you can say in a measly attempt to ask him to speed up. his thumb finds your neglected clit, rubbing tight circles around your bundle of nerves, and picks up the pace, cunt now clenching even tighter around his two fingers, and gojo groans thinking how you’d feel around his aching dick. he adds a third finger – it’s angled so perfectly assault your special spongy spot, it turns your brain into a mush.
gojo pinches your nipple, kissing you to swallow all the lewd moans to himself.
“is my princess close?”
“yes daddy, ‘m so close.”
“common, cum all over my fingers, baby.”
these words finally push you over the edge – your climax washes over you like a cold morning shower, leaving you trembling in gojo’s hold. your legs are trying to close to stop the man from continuing his abuse on your twitching pussy but he is too lost in the feeling of your walls constricting around his fingers to allow you to do that. he fucks you through your orgasm, bringing you to the realm of overstimulation.
“ahh, daddy, please, it hurts now,” you whine with teary voice, beads of salty water gathering in the corners of your eyes.
“shhhh, daddy knows best, yeah? let me feel you a little longer.”
gojo keeps his pace until you’re clawing at his arm, trying to pull away your pussy from his fingers. he grabs you by the back of your head, bruising your lips with the intensity of his kiss – you’re sure he draws blood by how he bites your lower lip, licking the messy aftermath. you’re still whining and mewling, trails of tears finally flowing down your face, and he’s sure he’s never seen anything hotter as he licks the salty tracks.
“you’ve done so good, babygirl, i think you’re ready for the main gift,” satoru says and finally withdraws his fingers. the emptiness is welcoming yet disappointing, and you groan. gojo quickly unbuckles his pants and shoves them down, alongside his boxer briefs, and you almost choke on your spit when you see how well-endowed he is. you don’t have a lot to compare it to but you think his cock is beautiful – it's long and slender, and uncut, prominent vein running all the way from the base to just underside of his head, and you get an immeasurable desire to run your tongue along it.
“is my pretty doll drooling jus’ at the sight of my dick?” he mockingly asks you, making you turn your gaze away. gojo chuckles again, and grabs you by your chin, pulling your head down.
“no looking away, darling, i want you to see how i take your virginity.”
with no other option, you keep your gaze peeled downwards, to where gojo strokes himself couple of times before lining himself up with your leaking hole. despite all the preparation and your previous orgasm, you’re still incredibly tight and satoru groans as he starts pushing himself inside. you can see his smooth cockhead bullying his way into you, stretching your greedy walls – man feels you pulsating around him, and that makes him twitch.
“fuck, princess, you’re so tight, feels so good.”
gojo finally sinks all the way in, your cervix being met in a kiss by a swollen tip, and you moan, sound almost pornographic. your step-dad doesn’t let you adjust before he pulls out almost all the way before sliding back in – he doesn’t go easy on you for your first time, setting up a brutal pace, not caring if you’re ready to take him fully yet. it stings, and you have to hold yourself on gojo’s shoulder’s as he starts fucking into you. his hands are on your hips, guiding them to meet his thrusts.
“daddy please, ‘ts too much,” you cry out but satoru is all too lost in how your gummy walls perfectly hug his swollen cock. he doesn’t respond, shutting you up by forcing his tongue into his mouth yet again, sucking on every piece of available flesh. slowly, the tension in your body melts away and gives way to a new kind of pressure – the one building up in your tummy. you’re shocked at how fast your body is able to start getting on the road to blissful ecstasy again but you’re not complaining.
“shit, are you getting close already, babygirl? i can feel your pretty pussy squeezing me again.”
“yes, sorry daddy.”
“there is nothing to be sorry about, just means your daddy’s doing a good job,” he says with a grin, keeping up the pace, rutting into your sloppy cunt. queefing sounds and slapping of skin on skin make you blush furiously yet you can’t take away your gaze from where satoru keeps burying himself inside you.
the girth of gojo’s cock is deadly – not only he’s able to reach the spongy spot almost immediately, making white spots dancing across your vision, kaleidoscope of pleasure lighting up your every nerve ending, he is also bruising your cervix just with enough pressure to make you twitch in delight. his pubic bone grinds against your puffy clit and it’s setting up fireworks against your skin, hot molten lava igniting your whole being.
your moaning becomes uncontrollable as satoru’s fucking you in an animalistic pace – he keeps splitting you open, the spread of legs is slowly growing uncomfortable.
“look how good you’re taking me, being such a good girl for me,” he’s babbling, edging himself too – he wants to feel you spasming around his cock, he cannot let himself cum before that. “gonna feel so good cumming inside, pretty. give you a cute little brother or sister, huh? what do you think? i bet you’ll look so gorgeous being pregnant with my baby.”
“no, daddy, you can’t do that…”
“hm, why? just imagine, you walking around, with my child inside your belly, all cute and swollen for me, tits full of milk. wouldn’t you want that?”
you hiccup a sob as gojo keeps dragging his heavy cock in and out of you, the vein you saw before pressing against your walls deliciously, and you feel your toes start to curl as your body chases after the second orgasm. you dig your nails into his biceps, certain to leave half moon marks on his porcelain skin, and bite your lip. in turn, he is pressing his fingers against the plum skin of your hips, marking you with bruises to remind you of this tomorrow.
“shit, i haven’t fucked your cunny for that long yet it’s already perfectly snuggled around me. i’m training it fast, huh? i’m gonna teach it to fit only me,” you can hear the grin in his voice as he says that.
gojo feels your walls tighten around him – he can see you’re teetering on the edge of climax, whining and moaning under the man, letting him completely use you – so he picks up the speed, assaulting your abused pussy. it doesn’t take longer than that for the tension in your tummy to snap, and you’re wantonly crying out satoru’s name.
“fuck, dollface, you’re squeezing me so perfectly right now. want to milk me for all i’ve got?”
you’re cock drunk, unable to respond to him, hoping your mewling will be enough for the man to see he fucked you stupid. he is not showing signs of slowing down – you can only continue whining as satoru chases after his own pleasure. he pistons his hips couple of times more, and you can feel him throbbing inside as he shoots creamy ropes of cum inside you, painting your womb white. the ring of mixed fluids at the bottom of his cock drives him insane, and he continues fucking his cum into you.
“shit baby, can’t waste a single drop now, can we.”
you’re letting out a quiet sob, pleasure too overwhelming and almost feverish, still unable to find your voice. when he deems it satisfactory that his seed is all warm inside you, gojo finally pulls out and kisses the top of your head.
“i’d say this was a good practice run, what do you say? your mom only comes back in a week, i’ll make you my personal cumdump until then.”
you snap your head up at his words, the smile playing on your step-dad’s face borderline sinister. you think it’s supposed to make you scared, then why is your pussy already twitching around nothing?
“yes daddy, anything for you.”
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yndrgrl · 10 months
Text
katsuki bakugo is the only man who can help bunnygirl! you during heat.
established relationship. normal! au. first time as a couple.
warnings: nsfw, lowkey angst ngl, fellatio, praise, slight degradation, creampie
if you're here for the nsfw part, i marked it >:)
a/n: dude, idk why my last fic has that "mature" label 😭 also is this a hypersexual comfort fic? yeah.
---
"are you okay? you look hot?"
"your forehead is on fire!"
"you look red. drink some water."
you've been hearing that non-stop all day. of course, you know that everyone has good intentions, but it was so annoying.
no, you didn't feel fine, nor did you feel sick. it was a strange, embarrassing thing to admit. in a world full of truly remarkable quirks, you just had to get a basic one. your quirk was rabbit. you know mirko? yeah, well you two are in the same boat.
you have floppy bunny ears the same color as your hair, a puff ball of a bunny tail, & muscular legs. all so cutesy & alright to deal with. the behavioral traits were what got you though. increased hearing, jittery/easily scared, & most annoying of all, the heat that came with it.
though it wasn't unusual to have heat, it was definitely not something you mention in a passing conversation. heat made it hard to focus on anything except for breeding & sex. your senses are enhanced, making clothes feel itchy at all times. your train of thought always derailed to live making. that's why you were prescribed heat repressant.
no side affects & it worked like a charm.
however, this month you forgot to stock up on them, & you just so happened to run out. you would've just skipped school to get some, but it was midterms, which comes with tests & presentations that simply could not be made up. it was either fail your classes or bite the bullet.
"oi! what's your deal?" someone barked at you. ah yes, your boyfriend of six months, katsuki bakugo.
"nothing," you said with annoyance. another thing about your heat is that you get irritable because of the overwhelming feeling of needing to do a certain activity. "don't worry about it."
taken aback, katsuki reached out for you & spun you around. your eyes welled with tears of frustration & utter embarrassment, the tips of your ears were red, & every thread of your clothes made your skin crawl. "hey, what's going on?"
"i-it's nothing, just leave me alone. class is about to start." you understood how much katsuki prides himself in his academics. you're not gonna be the one to drag him down; that's not very amazing-cool-awesome girlfriend of you, after all.
he wanted to say that he didn't care & let's just ditch class, but you both knew you couldn't. the exams were too important. luckily for the both of you, the last period of the day was study hall. most kids just skip it, starting their free time early.
just a few classes, then i can go get medication, that's not bad at all, i've been through worse, you thought in attempts to calm yourself.
yeah, but imagine how could it would feel to be absolutely railed, oh fuck, imagine katsuki-
you had to cut yourself off, he was standing right beside you after all.
your relationship with katsuki has been slow, healthy, & true. the most you two have done in the span of six months is make out, grind, & grope each other clothed. both of you saw a future together so having sex didn't have to happen right then & there. if it happens, it happens, but there was no need to have it to connect.
you didn't want you first time with the love of your life to be because of your current circumstances.
"did i do something?" he asked, making your ears twitch.
"no, it's not you," you reassured, "there's nothing going on." you both entered the classroom, & you could feel katsuki's worried stare focused on you the entire time.
you took exam after exam, which, in of itself, is a long, stressful process. the bell rang throughout the school, & your classmates shuffled out of the room to go to their last period. finally, it was study hall. you threw everything into your backpack without a care. you were practically panting.
throughout the school day, the pressure building inside of you only gotten worse. you couldn't stop thinking about katsuki. his god-sent body, his perfect face, his rugged voice. god, he turned you on so much-- too much, actually.
you felt bad for ignoring all of his texts throughout the day. if you didn't, however, you had a feeling you would've sent some embarrassing messages.
as you exited your class, someone grasped your wrist, dragging you out of the school. their touch lit you on fire. you knew exactly who it was. "let me go, katsuki."
"no, not until you tell me what i did!" he growled at you. he doesn't even realize how wet i am for him-
you had to shut off your thoughts, but that's easier said than done.
"i told you already. you didn't do anything."
"well something is going on with you. tell me what's happening," he raised his voice, a vice grip still hanging onto your wrist. you were getting overstimulated & overwhelmed. once again, you couldn't help the angry tears from forming. you couldn't help but hyperfixate on your panties brushing against your sensitive clit. you couldn't help that your nipples were painfully perked.
you can't just admit that though. it's such a stupid problem to you. you felt so wrong & disgusting for thinking about sex all day. "you wouldn't understand!" you finally yelled back. "you wouldn't get it."
he didn't respond. katsuki continued to drag you throughout campus, leaving you with your thoughts.
god, i made him mad, you mentally cried out. hopefully he'll hate fuck you then-
you want to rip out your own brain & throw it on the concrete. it was a constant cycle of that the entire walk.
a few moments later, you realized you were in his dorm, sitting on his bed with him across from you in his desk chair. both of your hands were in his as he brushed his thumbs against your knuckles. that alone gave you goosebumps. "please tell me what's wrong, baby," he said in a hushed near-whimper. "i'm worried about you."
"you really wouldn't get it, katsuki," you whispered, finally letting a few tears roll down your cheek.
he placed his index finger underneath your chin. he gently raised your head, your gaze following suit. the two of you locked eyes, his swirling with worry & yours sprawling in uncertainty. "then make me understand."
"it's my stupid quirk," you exasperated. you tried coming up with ways of how to say what you want to say without scaring him off.
"what about it?" he asked.
"you have such a nice quirk, you know," you started, avoiding his question. "it's just so much flashier & cooler than mine. there's already a rabbit hero!"
"what are you talking about? you do have a cool quirk."
"i'm a bunnygirl. nothing more. people already know what to expect-"
"what is this really about? you brag all the time how you get to come up with new ways to make your quirk yours," he countered, not convinced with your answer. "there's something more, isn't there?"
katsuki was so good at reading people-- at reading you. the other times you've confided in him, your voice lacked clarity, stability. why would it be different now? it wouldn't, that's why.
"yeah, there is," you admitted, tugging on his hands so he'd get closer. "i just don't know how you'll react or how to even say it-"
"it's fine. just tell me, i won't get mad or judge you or whatever," he assured. you began to cry even more, staining his dress shirt.
he smelt so good, i can feel his muscles through his shirt, he's so sexy-
"i need you," you muttered into his chest.
"what was that, baby?"
you glanced up at him, eyes glossy, lips pouted. "i need you."
katsuki's breath hitched, "what are you talking about?" yes, he's had theories about your quirk & its drawbacks. was this it? was his theory correct?
more tears of frustration rolled down your cheeks as you tried to explained, "i have... you know."
his cock stirred, scolding himself mentally for getting hard during a time like this. "have what?" he wanted you to say it, confirm his suspicions.
you took a deep breath. "i have this thing every month or so, & it just makes things so much harder."
"tell me." his stern voice sent shockwaves through you.
it made you obey him automatically, robotically. "i'm going through heat." a silence followed. "it's normal for people with quirks like mine to go through this. i usually have repressants! & i know this probably makes you so uncomfortable; i understand if you don't want to be-"
-- nsfw starts here --
katsuki cut off your rambling, almost offended. "don't ever say that. i want you, all of you."
"p-please don't say such things," you begged him as you felt your pussy throb. "i'm r-really trying to hold back-"
"let me take care of you, princess," katsuki purred, finger tips ghosting over your exposed thighs. he buried his face into the crook of your neck. "do you want this, y/n? because i want you right now. if you tell me you don't want this, i'll stop."
all you could do is nod, your breath turning uneven.
"say it, y/n."
"i need you so bad. please, katsuki," you cried out as you rubbed your legs together.
he smirked into your neck before he started kissing your neck. you couldn't help but whimper. he noticed you holding back, so he bit your neck. he sucked hickeys all over your neck. your unsteady breathes turned into needy moans.
"t-take off my shirt, please-"
katsuki took in your demand by ripping it off your skin as if it were poison. he unhooked your bra, throwing it on the floor. "ah fuck," he groaned, cupping your breasts.
"are they o-okay?"
"you're fuckin' perfect, baby."
with one, he replaced his rough, calloused hand with his mouth. you grinder against his thigh as flicked your nipple with his tongue. "k-katsuki~"
he switched to the other one, giving it the same treatment. "all mine," he growled in between. he nipped at the skin around your nipples. your neck & chest were soon littered with purple marks & bites.
"let me touch you," you begged & you began to fidget with the buttons of his shirt. "take this off~"
"so needy, aren't you, princess," katsuki teased, yet he gave into you. he threw off his shirt, looming over you. goosebumps pricked at your skin, all over your arms down to your legs. you found yourself trailing your hands all over his abs, his muscular arms, around his back. it was like your hands had a mind of their own.
you flipped the two of you around, so now he was under you. "c-can i please mark you?"
he let out a laugh of amusement, making your face turn a deep red. "you don't have to ask, baby," he told you. as a response, you mimicked his actions from earlier. your lips kissed all over his neck, leaving marks in its wake. you trailed down to his chest, then his abs then his v-line until you reached the band of his pants.
the entire time, he was groaning, feeding you praises that shot straight through your core. when you stopped, he looked down at you, & there you were, staring back at him with eager, wide eyes. he could read you so well. "go ahead, y/n. pull them down."
to which you did. you hands hooked both his uniform pants & his boxers. you pulled them down, & your mouth watered when his cock sprung out. "i-it's so big," you moaned; you meant to only think that, but you couldn't help it.
his mushroom tip beaded precum, his veiny shaft twitched in anticipation. "you see how hard i am for you? all for you," katsuki told you, watching your eyes dart to his then back down to his cock.
you started licking him to test the waters. you saw as his eyebrows furrowed together, his mouth agape, narrowed eyes. your licks evolved into you sticking his tip into your mouth. your tongue flicked around his cock. you crossed your eyes & whined when you tasted his precum. thanks to his quirk, it tasted almost sweet, salty, & god, was it addicting.
you bobbed your head up & down his thick rod. the tip hit the back of your throat while spit flooded your mouth. it was hard to breath, but you didn't care. having katsuki inside of you was more important than breathing. "slow down. you're gonna make me cum, good girl."
that was enough inspiration for you. you needed his cum. you forced your head all the way down his cock, your nose buried in his pubes. your eyes watered (for the fifth time today), & you stared into katsuki's eyes. both of his hands tangled themselves into your hair. "i'm gonna fuck that slutty, little throat, okay? just tap if it's too much," he informed, but he had a feeling you were going let him do whatever he wanted.
you moaned as a way to let him know that you heard him. the vibrations quivered his tip. "mmm, fuck. you're doing so good," he praised, jutting his hips forward the drawing them back.
his thrusts at first were small, in fear he was hurting you. however, as he looked down at you, your eyes rolled back, drool spilling out of your mouth, rubbing your aching clit for some sort of release, he couldn't hold back. he started using your throat as a fuck toy.
fast & rough, & all you could do was take it. take it, even though you're crying & it's hard to breath. "i'm close," he uttered out in between moans. his sultry voice turned a pitch higher in a humiliating tease, "you want my cum, baby? huh? c'mon, tell me you want it."
you choked out muffled, "yes please" & "cum down my throat please." he laughed at you trying to form sentences with your mouth stuffed. "such an eager bitch. fine, i'll give you what you want."
he thrusted his hips forwards, keeping your head in place. you face smushed against his hips. his cock twitched as he unloaded spurts of cum down your throat.
he pulled away, & strings of saliva mixed with his semen leaked onto your skirt. you looked back up at him, finding his cock still erect. "you look so surprised," katsuki said as he caught his breath. "i'm still so hard for you. after all, i told you i was going to take care of you."
"p-please have sex with me," you barely even whispered.
"what was that?"
"please-"
"i still can't hear you," katsuki told you, stroking his dick. he really knew how to push your buttons
"please fuck me, katsuki! i need it, i need you so bad~ i need your big cock inside of me," you blurted out. you finally let you stupid, nasty fantasies get the better of you.
judging from katsuki's smug expression, he wanted you to indulge in them. "alright, alright. you've been such a good girl for me. it's the least i could do," he shrugged before flipping you over so you were trapped under him. even in your most intimate moments, he was cocky. & god, did it make your pussy wet.
as he started to pull your skirt down, your hands shot to grab his wrists. "no, fuck me now, i can't wait. it hurts too bad," you whined, your glossy lips pouting.
"of course, princess," he said with a smirk. "whatever you want." katsuki's fingers dove under your skirt to push your panties out of the way. he held your legs up, placing your calves over his shoulders.
he lubed the tip of his dick with your juices by running it through your folds. "you're so wet for me, good girl."
"it's all for you, katsuki~" you purred, anticipation practically killing you. you felt pride as he turned his head to kiss the meat of your calf in approval.
"can't let it go to waste," he told you. he lined his thick, heavy cock with your entrance. something must've taken over you because, the moment it lined up with your hole, you shoved your hips forward with your entire body.
you let out a squeal of pleasure, your pussy stretching to accommodate for katsuki's lengthy cock. "shit, baby, you almost knocked me over," he chuckled as he readjusted. both of his hands were on your hips.
"shut up & fuck me," you growled at him. his cock twitched, brow raised in amusement.
"yes ma'am," he replied, "but remember you said that." from the get-go, his thrusts were powerful, immediately finding the cervix. your nails dug into his biceps down to his wrists. moans, whimpers, & screams spilled out of your lips.
katsuki took his fingers to your mouth & demanded in a low voice, "suck."
the action made you quiet down. he found your g-spot soon after, & you felt lightheaded. with his fingers down your throat, his cock abusing your most sensitive spot, & katsuki whispering dirty nothings into your ears, you shut your eyes & released all the tension building up.
"f-f-fuck, i-i'm cumming, katsuki," you rasped, voice having a small lisp thanks to his fingers. you squirted all over his abdomen, breath heavy & uneven.
he didn't stop though. he still rammed his big fuckin' dick in & out of you, not letting you calm down from your euphoric high. in fact, his hand that you slobbered all over found their way to your clit. he drew small circles around it. "ah, katsuki!" you moaned. "it's too much!"
"you'll be a good girl, & take it, won't you? i haven't cum inside you yet," he responded while his other hand pinched your nipples.
"i-i-i'll be a good girl, katsuki~" you slurred, speaking on beat with his thrusts. he made you cum three more times then you felt as his hips became more robotic, shorter, uncalculated.
"i'm cumming," he groaned through gritted teeth. "i'm cumming. fuckin' take all of it." thick jets of hot, white cum stained your walls. his dick pulsated inside of you. you came again; who could blame you?
he took a few deep breaths, collapsing on top of you as he pulled out of your pussy. cum spilled out of you & onto his sheets. he embraced you, whispering, "round two?"
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strvngeweather · 3 months
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How to Get Rid of Your Virginity; a one shot.
💘PAIRING: badboy!jungkook x theaternerd!reader 💘GENERE: College AU, smut, a little fluff 💘WORD COUNT: 4.6K 💘WARNINGS: Smut, smut, and more smut. 💘SUMMARY: You've always been the good girl who followed the rules but you're ready to shed that image and lose your virginity to the college's resident bad boy: Jungkook. 💘AUTHOR'S NOTE: Apparently, I really got into my feelings with this fic. A bit of sweetness at the end but mostly smut. I hope you enjoy!
Opposites attract – at least, that’s what your best friend, Elena, had told you. She had provided you with solid proof too.
“Just take a look around,” she had said, a cup full of vodka and cherry-flavored juice in her hand, motioning toward the various partygoers. She pointed out an art student cuddled up with a girl who looked like she belonged on the arm of a footballer. “That’s Taehyung. His girlfriend is the ‘All-American Girl’ type and he’s a huge nerd. But they’re in love.”
You nodded. “Okay, they’re the exception.”
She shook her head, taking a long sip, wincing at the burn of the alcohol. “Okay, what about them?” She pointed at Jimin. Jimin was your textbook Type-A worker bee. He was known to avoid large social gatherings like this but here he was, leaning against a wall, his girlfriend in his arms. He kissed her lightly on the neck before grabbing a hearty handful of her ass. “That is our resident party girl cuddled up with our best scholar.”
“He’s a fine scholar,” You admitted, and Elena agreed. “Okay, so what’s your point?”
“My point,” Elena began, taking another long sip. “Are that people from different sides of the track get together all the time. Cheerleader and nerd, party girl, and punctual pupil. Nerdy theater geek and super delicious bad boy.”
You were the nerdy theater geek she had been referencing and the delicious bad boy? That title belonged to Jungkook.
You glanced over at him. He was standing between Taehyung and Jimin, effortlessly chatting the night away. Jungkook had been on your radar ever since you started attending this university two years ago. He was an upperclassman, so you didn’t run into him often but when you did, you savored every second you got to gaze upon him. The man was beautiful. But make no mistake, this was not a crush. You thought he was sexy as hell, but you weren’t into him. You were a future Broadway star and Jungkook? Well, you don’t know what his future entailed but it was starkly different from yours. You were sure of it. There was no way you two would work out romantically.
You wanted him for different reasons. More carnal reasons. You wanted him to take your virginity.
But, while you wanted him, you weren’t sure if he wanted you. You didn’t look like his type – you assumed. But Elena was attempting to convince you otherwise.
“I just don’t think he’d be down for it,” you said with a shrug. “I mean, he’s not into girls like me.”
“He’s a man!” Elena said, her voice raised. You knew that was a sign that the liquor was kicking in for her. “He’s into any girl who wants to bone him! Go over there!”
Elena pushed you toward him, but you stopped, glaring at her. “What would I even say? ‘Hey, Jungkook, wanna fuck?’”
Elena nodded and gave you a blank stare. “That sounded perfect. What’s stopping you?”
You groaned. Of course, Elena would think that’s an acceptable way to approach a man but before you could protest, she was signaling Jungkook to come over. Your eyes widened, a mortifying feeling washing over you.
I could kill her, you thought, I could kill her and bury the body beneath the school’s theater.
Jungkook looked at Elena, a confused look etched across his handsome features. Then, he did the unthinkable. He began to walk over.
He stopped just short of the both of you, the wallflowers for the night, and smiled. “Good evening, ladies, how can I help you?”
Elena nudged you and you opened your mouth to speak but found only your pride, self-respect, and the last shred of confidence falling out of your mouth and onto the floor to be stomped on by a slew of drunken college students. Elena, noticing your mouth open and a dazed look on your face, rolled her eyes and blurted out, “She wants to fuck you.”
This is it, you thought, this is how I die.
But it wasn’t.
Because Jungkook’s eyes raked over you, a hint of lust clouding behind them, and smiled. “Oh, really?”
You nodded, fear and excitement striking into your heart.
Elena continued, “She’s been waiting to make a move all night, but she’s been too afraid to.”
Jungkook looked at you. “Consent is sexy, so I have to hear it from your mouth.”
You swallowed thickly, slowly nodding. “She’s not, I mean, I’m not –” You stopped, taking a deep breath. “Yes. Coitus is something I’d like to experience with you – I mean, if you’re up for it.”
He held out his hand. “Well, let’s go experience it.”
“Right now?”
“Why not?”
You looked between him and Elena searching for a reason as to why now wasn’t a good time to get your back blown out, but you couldn’t find one. Not a good one, anyway. So, you put on a brave face, took his hand, and let him lead you upstairs and into the nearest empty bedroom.
You didn't know who this bedroom belonged to as it had no signs of life. A basic dark wood dresser hugged the right wall, a few sports posters lined the walls and a simple full-sized bed with white and blue bedding sat in the middle of the floor. Jungkook took a seat on the bed, and you sat next to him, unable to meet his eye.
“Come here,” he said, cupping your face and drawing you forward.
He wanted a kiss, so you followed his lead, but your nose bumped into his. “I’m so sorry!” You said in a panicked voice. “I – I didn’t mean for –”
“It’s okay,” he said through a small laugh. Another attempt at a kiss was made but instead of bumping noses, you bumped foreheads. He rubbed his forehead, scrunching up his face. “Maybe we skip kissing,” he said, standing up. “How about this instead?” He began to climb on top of you. You readjusted yourself, hoping to make things flow more smoothly but you ended up kneeing him in the stomach.
“Fuck, I am so sorry!” You said as you watched him grit his teeth.
“It’s okay,” he said once again and rounded the other side of the bed. He took a seat and laid back. “Why don’t you come lay beside me?”
You nodded. You got up and laid down next to him.
“Why don’t you lead?” Jungkook suggested and you silently agreed that that might be for the best.
You began to get up but found your elbow stabbing him in the chest.
This was going horribly.
“Are you sure you want to have sex?” Jungkook asked.
“I do,” you said quietly, biting your lip. “I’m just really nervous.”
Jungkook narrowed his eyes at you. “Why are you nervous?”
You chewed on your bottom lip, avoiding his gaze. How do you tell one of the hottest guys on campus that you’re a virgin? A lonely loser virgin?
“If it’s me, then there’s nothing to be nervous about,” Jungkook said. “I’m not as experienced as everyone says I am. I mean, I have had sex with quite a few people – all safe and consensual of course – but I’m nothing like the lothario people say I am. I mean, I’m just –”
You cut him off. “I’m nervous because I’m a virgin.”
The room went quiet. Too quiet. Embarrassingly quiet. If there was a God, he would have taken mercy on you and allowed the world to swallow you at this exact moment. But no, mercy did not shine a light on you this day.
“And you wanted me to take your virginity?”
He seemed more surprised that you had chosen him as your virginity taker than the fact that you were still a virgin. Regardless, you nodded. “Yeah, I figured if I was going to lose it, I might as well lose it to someone hot.”
His cheeks flashed a crimson color. “Don’t you want your first time to be special?”
You scoffed. “First off, virginity is just a construct and secondly, it would have been special no matter what because it’s my first time and I was in control. Besides, I’ve got a bucket list to finish this year.”
Jungkook looked at you. “Oh yeah? What else is on your list?”
“Smoking weed. I’ve never been high before.”
And just like that, Jungkook produced a blunt out of his back pocket. “You’re in luck. Listen, I don’t think the sex thing is going to happen tonight, but I can smoke you out.”
You felt relief wash over you. There was still hope. He said it wouldn’t happen tonight not that it wouldn’t happen ever – hey, it may have been delulu but you were going to take it and ride off with it into the sun. You watched closely as Jungkook lit the blunt, taking a few deep inhales, holding it in, and then exhaling, coughing along the way. Your first few attempts at smoking the joint were failures but after the third try, you got the hang of it. You also coughed a lung out but the serene feeling that flowed through you a few moments later was worth it.
The blunt had been reduced to a roach and you and Jungkook were lying on the bed, laughing and talking about everything under the sun. You learned he was a film major and planned on moving to Los Angeles after graduation to pursue a career out there. When you told him you wanted to be the next Audra McDonald, he didn’t laugh or tease you like so many others had before. He thought your love of theater was cool and asked you a million questions about it. He found it impressive that you could hold such high notes while doing intricate choreography. Finally, a silence settled over the two of you as the green forced you both into an extreme high.
“Can I ask you something?” Jungkook’s voice was like molasses, thick and slow. Or maybe you were just so damn high that’s how you heard it.
“Mhm,” you hummed.
“What’s the farthest you’ve gone?”
“Like traveling?”
He shook his head. “No, I mean … with sex.”
“Oh,” you replied. “Um, I’ve jerked a guy off before.”
“Have you …” he began but trailed off. He turned his head to look at you, attempting to gauge your reaction. “Ever received oral?”
You shook your head. “Nah.”
“You want to?”
You froze, and a sobering feeling hit you like a pillow full of soap. The idea of getting your coochie licked sounded damn good right now, especially with the weed in your system. “Yeah, I mean, I guess I’d like to try it one day.”
“How about today?”
You could still feel Jungkook’s eyes on you. Well, shit. You had already crossed one item off your bucket list. Might as well cross another. So, you said, “Yeah, let’s do it.”
Within seconds, Jungkook was between your legs, lifting your pleated skirt to your hips and sliding your baby pink panties down. Your body froze as you felt a finger slide in between your slits. “A virgin who shaves,” you heard him muse, mostly to himself. A thumb began rubbing your clit and a gasp escaped your throat. Before you could say something else, his tongue was on your lips. Your … other lips. It darted out, parting your lips and flicking against your clit in a feverish way.
Your back arched in response and you felt as if all the air in your lungs had left your body. You found your hands gripping the white sheets as he buried his face deeper between your legs, his tongue sliding in and out of your hole before traveling up and down your slit and finally focusing back on your clit. The sensation became a little too much and you squirmed away, hoping to ease some of the intensity but that only made things worse. Jungkook wrapped his hands around your thick thighs, pulling you closer, spread your legs apart further, and kept his hands gripped on your thighs, ensuring you wouldn’t be going too far. “Don’t run from it,” you heard him whisper.
You’re not sure how long he was at it but by the time your world turned white, you were making noises only a dog could hear.
. . . . .
It wasn’t in your nature to willingly be a third wheel, but the town’s annual spring fair was here and there was no way you were going to miss it. Even if Elena insisted on bringing her boyfriend, Felix. The night wasn’t all bad though. You had spotted Jungkook hanging with a few of his friends and the two of you waved at each other. It had been three weeks since the party and the two of you had kept in contact, texting each other funny memes here and there, sometimes talking on the phone late into the night but nothing more, nothing less.
As the three of you waited in line for the Ferris wheel, you noticed that the ride only allowed pairs. That took care of Elena and Felix but what about you?
“Can you believe that? Since when has the Ferris wheel been limited to two people at a time?” You turned around to face your best friend, but she wasn’t listening. She was too busy using her tongue to excavate Felix’s mouth. You groaned. “Of course, you two would choose now to suck face.”
The line moved forward, and it was your turn to get on. The ride operator gave you a pitiful look. “You got a partner?” He asked but he knew the answer to that. Just as you were about to step out of line to die of embarrassment in a dark and quiet place, your knight in shining armor appeared.
“I’m her partner.”
Jungkook. Sweet, sweet, Jungkook. Sweet, delicious, Jungkook who smelled like heaven and was wearing a red button-up shirt that showed off all his muscles. What? Sue you for noticing!
Jungkook held out his hand and you took it, the two of you loading on the ride and strapping in. Elena smirked at you as the ride began. The ride slowly lifted you and Jungkook up a few feet and then paused, allowing Elena and Felix to board.
“Thanks for saving the day,” you said with a smile. “The Ferris wheel is my favorite ride.”
“No shit, mine too,” Jungkook replied.
Your eyes brightened. “Really? You don’t seem like the type.”
“What type do I seem like?”
“A coaster man.”
“I like coasters too,” he admitted. “But something about the Ferris wheel just calms me, you know?”
“Yeah,” you said. “I get that.”
“So, how’s your bucket list going? Cross off anything else?” Jungkook asked as the Ferris wheel began moving again and then paused, allowing another couple on.
“I have,” you told him excitedly. “Elena and I went skinny dipping two days ago.”
“Damn, I’m sad I missed that one,” Jungkook said with a cheeky smile. “Still a virgin?”
“Still a virgin.”
Jungkook looked at you, his eyes falling to your exposed legs. You were wearing a plaid overall dress and a long-sleeved white shirt underneath. You wondered for a moment if he was judging your fashion choices until he licked his lips and you saw the lust clouding his eyes. “Ever been fingered?”
You shrugged; a sheepish smile found its way to your face. “Only when you ate me out that one time.”
“But never in public?”
“Of course not.”
He looked at you, his eyes begging for permission and as the Ferris wheel began moving again, forcing you and Jungkook to the top, his hands found their way between your thighs. He rubbed your core through your panties. You felt him lean over, his lips brushing against your neck before peppering kisses across your chin. You couldn’t help but giggle as he pushed your panties to the side, and you felt two fingers slide up and down your already-wet slit.
You felt your heart beating faster in his chest when he slid a finger inside and used his thumb to rub circles on your clit. The sensation was quickly becoming too much for you. Especially in public of all places. But as the Ferris wheel worked its way down, you were as well. Your orgasm slowly washed away as the ride finally came to a stop, allowing you and Jungkook to get off.
“Thanks for the ride,” you told him and in response, he kissed your cheek and made his way back to his friends.
It was official: You and Jungkook were friends. Like actual friends. You talked to him just as much as you talked to Elena, if not more. You had met his friends and his friend’s girlfriends. You spent time at his apartment. He smoked you out at least once a week and the last time the two of you decided to go on an impromptu diner trip, the waitress mistook you for a couple.
That’s why it wasn’t a surprise when he accompanied you to the library today. You both had papers due and decided to study together. However, you found that the two of you didn’t get much studying done and instead spent most of your time together making jokes and trying to steer clear of the librarian’s wrath.
In an attempt to get some serious studying done, Jungkook suggested getting a table at the back of the library. As you followed him to the back of the library, you noticed a couple, deep within the library aisles, where students rarely went, getting it on. You stopped Jungkook, tugging on his sleeve. “Look!” You whispered. “Oh my god, isn’t that Jimin?”
An approving smile pulled at the corner of Jungkook’s lips. “Yeah. Ever since he met his girlfriend, he’s become such a horn dog.”
You couldn’t take your eyes off the couple. Jimin had his girlfriend leaning on a bookshelf for support, her pants pulled down to her knees and his face buried between her ass cheeks. You hated to say it but it kind of turned you on. Jungkook took your hand and pulled you along.  
“He’s not afraid of getting caught?” You asked.
Jungkook shrugged. “I don’t think so. They fuck in the library all the time. That’s actually how they became a couple. He was her tutor.”
You felt a pool of heat settling in your core, forcing a weather change down under. “God, that’s hot.”
Jungkook stopped walking and looked at you. “You want to try?”
“You mean, fucking in the library?” The idea excited you, but you weren’t exactly sure you wanted to get fully plowed in public yet. “I don’t know about penetration but … maybe some head would be cool.”
Jungkook licked his lips. “I can’t lie, I’ve been wanting to taste you again.”
You shook your head as he led you further into the book aisles. “No, I mean I want to give you head.”
He stopped. “You sure?”
“Yeah, teach me how to suck dick,” you said and then cringed once you heard the words. “That didn’t sound as sexy as I hoped it would have.
He smiled, licking his lips. “Say less,” he pulled you into a corner and unzipped his pants. He pulled his jeans and boxers down but only slightly and produced his semi-hard dick.
“You’re already excited?” You asked and then realized this was your first time seeing his dick. No wonder he was known as the lover, you thought, grabbing it and feeling the weight of it in your hand. “Well, shit.”
“You ready?” He asked and you nodded, slowly dropping to your knees.  He guided you lovingly on how to properly give head but also explained that everyone was different so the way he liked it wouldn’t necessarily be the way another guy liked it. But the way he liked it was known as the ‘vacuum suck.’ He wasn’t into the bells and whistles of sloppy head but preferred something nice and clean and something that felt like his soul was being sucked out of him.
And that, you did. Or at least you gave it the old college try.
You stroked his large dick, your hand running up and down his thick shaft as your tongue flicked over his head. Precum painted your lips as you attempted to slide his entire member into your mouth. It wouldn't fit and Jungkook didn't force it. Above you, he squirmed in delight, his hands threading through your dark locks, gripping ever so slightly.
“Touch my balls, baby girl,” Jungkook said through a low grunt. Your pussy does backflips at the sound of being called ‘baby girl’ but you can’t linger on that too long. Jungkook has your head in his hands and he’s slowly but surely fucking your face. “Agh … I’m going to cum …” He began to pull his dick out, but you didn't let him, instead you did something that you’ve seen countless times on Twitter memes. You suck harder and you kept sucking well after he came. You’d never heard a man squeal before but you’re sure that’s what Jungkook did before you finally popped his dick out of your mouth.
Summer was steadily approaching, the weather going from tolerable to the heat of the devil’s ass crack. It’s why Jungkook had suggested that the two of you head to the coast for the weekend. “It would be way cooler out there,” he had said, and you couldn’t argue. So, on a Friday evening, you climbed on the back of his motorcycle and the two of you headed off to the beach for the weekend.
As two broke college students, you didn’t have enough money to afford a fancy hotel, so you settled for a run-down motel room, but it was clean, and the bed was comfortable enough. Jungkook had purchased every snack in the vending machine that night and the two of you shared stories over eight-dollar bottles of wine, BBQ chips, and sour gummies. After finishing off your second bottle of wine, Jungkook lit up a blunt and the two of you shared it, laying back on the motel room bed with the shabby television playing a novella in the background.
“Y/N, I think you may be my best friend.”
“I think you may be right,” you agreed, laughing.
“I can’t believe school will be ending soon,” Jungkook said.
“I know. What am I going to do without you?” you said, a genuine sadness reaching your voice.
“We’re going to stay friends. You’ll come visit me in Los Angeles and I’ll come visit you in New York. You’ll be there when I receive my first Oscar and I’ll be there when you get your first Tony,” Jungkook said with a smile. And you could hear the sincerity in his voice. Even if none of that happened, in this moment right here and right now, Jungkook believed it did and that’s what you loved most about him.
You always thought love was like an arrow. Shooting you in the heart, causing you to instantaneously know that you had fallen but looking at Jungkook in the darkness of this shabby motel room, you realized love wasn’t like that at all. Love was slow and easy. It was sweet. It was kind. It was a soft spring day. It was impromptu trips to your favorite diners. It was sharing secrets in your most special places. It was laughing to your belly ached in the back of a car. It was trips to eat your weight in sushi and then getting ice cream even though you swore you couldn’t eat another bite. It was wiping your tears away at four in the morning because you didn’t get the role in the school play. It was sitting up all night with each other watching the sun rise because he was too anxious to sleep. It was the perfect and it was the imperfect. It was nothing and it was everything. It was you and it was Jungkook.
And right here, right now, you realized that you were in love with Jungkook.
“Jungkook,” you said, looking at him and he turned his head, smiling that beautiful smile. “I love you.”
He stared at you for a moment, studying your features. A hand reached out and cupped your cheek. “I love you too, Y/N.”
You scooted closer to Jungkook and kissed him. It was a soft and sound kiss. Slow and sensual. And he kissed you back with just as much patience. Your arms and legs tangled together, and soon you found your clothes melting away. You felt his lips wrapped around your nipples, his tongue going across your stomach. His hands stroking your pussy with an excruciating softness. You felt his muscles flexing beneath your fingertips, the weight of his manhood in your hands and then in your mouth.
His body reacted with such pleasure as you gave him head. You sucked slowly, making sure every inch of his manhood was wet with your spit. Jungkook stopped you early, citing how much he still wanted to taste you so you laid you on your back and spread your legs, exposing your most sensitive parts but Jungkook shook his head. He guided you on top of him, and you lowered your precious gem to his face. He licked hungrily. Savoring every drop of you. His hands found their way to your round ass and groped the fleshy curves as his tongue dug deeper into you. An electric wave of pleasure washed over you, your body writhing in sweet agony.
As you lay down beside him, he got on top of you. “Are you sure?” He asked. “If you don’t want to go this far, we can stop right now.”
But you didn’t want to stop. You wanted this. You wanted him. You silently nodded for him to continue and Jungkook rolled a condom onto his hardened dick. He positioned himself at your entrance and quietly said, “Here we go.”
He started slowly. You felt an indescribable pressure in your lower abdomen as he continued to slide in but it wasn’t bad. It was just different. He used his right hand to play with your breasts.
His pace quickened. You closed your eyes, biting your lip as the pressure waned, and in came pleasure. He lifted your legs and placed them on his shoulders. This new angle forced a new sensation to bubble within you. It felt amazing but there was a heaviness to it that you couldn’t quite describe. His hand found your clit, rubbing circles on it as he began to fuck you faster. You didn’t think you could cum twice in one night, but Jungkook proved you wrong. A few short moments later, Jungkook’s face tightened, and he let out a deep grunt before falling on top of you. After a moment, he rolled off.
“So how was it experiencing coitus with me?” Jungkook asked, breathing heavily.
You couldn’t help but laugh. “It was amazing.”
“I’m just glad you didn’t beat my ass this time.”
You cringed, thinking of the night the two of you met. You rolled to your side, putting your arm around him and your head on his chest. In response, he put his arms around you as well, pulling you close.
“What does this mean for us?” you asked.
“It means that I hope you accept when I ask you out on a date,” he said, kissing the top of your head.
“I’ll have to think about it,” you said. “I’ve got one more thing to cross off my bucket list.”
“What’s that?”
You motioned toward the window in the room, outside of it, the beach. “Sex on the beach times two. I want to drink the drink while doing the act.”
With a smile, Jungkook got up and put on his pants. He looked at you, “Well don’t just sit there, let’s go have sex on the beach while we drink sex on the beach.”
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