Tumgik
#so you know. it really makes me look forward to things :)
celestie0 · 1 day
Text
gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]
kickoff ch.10 a fresh start
Tumblr media
ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)
ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.
ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)
ᰔ chapter. 10/x (probably 18)
ᰔ words. 10.5k
a/n. hiii!! welcome to ch10!! if you’re confused about the word count, i decided to split up the original ch10 of kickoff (which was 31k words) into three installments (read more here) and sooo this is the first installment :0 i really hope you enjoy! i think this is a pretty chill chapter so no warnings or anything hahha. i’ll see you at the bottom :”)
nav. masterlist
☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*゚playlist
Tumblr media
“Let me take you out on a date.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’m busy.”
“You look like you could use a break.”
“You look like you should go bother someone else.”
“I don’t want to bother someone else, I want to bother you.”
You sigh, sitting back on your heels in the chair that you’ve been balancing yourself on for the past hour or so within the business building, room 202, not sure if it’s the paint fumes coming off the brush you’re holding in your hand that’s giving you the headache or if it’s the incessant pestering of the man sitting beside you.
It’s a Tuesday afternoon and you’re working on painting a poster for the Film Club photography showcase that’s happening later tonight, and what you thought would be a peaceful moment to yourself turned into what it is now since you ran into Gojo in the hallway as he was making his way out of class, and of course he decided to follow you around like a duckling after that.
You glance to the right. He’s still got his backpack on as he sits slumped in the chair beside you, with his presentation of washed out black jeans, a hoodie that’s a shade of void darker with UTokyo Men’s D1 Soccer heat-pressed printing across in jock lettering and he’s got the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair looks thoroughly kempt for once, and not slick with sweat like it usually is on the field, or tousled from the amount of times he runs his hands through it when he’s concentrated or frustrated. But he might start now, given you’re not budging at all to his advances.
“You know how nice it would be?” he says to you with his own version of a blissful sigh, resting his elbow on the conference table and setting his chin on top of his palm, and the way he leans into your space makes you subconsciously lean into him too. “We could go out for dinner, maybe by the beach, order dessert, you wear something nice–”
You raise an eyebrow at him.
“N-Not that you don’t always wear nice things–” His eyes briefly sweep down your form, in which you’re awkwardly sitting still with your paintbrush pinched between your fingers in mid air, and then he vaguely gestures to you, “I just mean something nicer,” this time, you feign an offended scoff, “wait, no, that came out wrong, I mean–”
“Satoru,” you interrupt him, bending over the table to dip your bristles into some blue paint in the palette at the other end, “I'm actually very busy right now, so I don’t really have the mental real estate to deal with your sales pitches on why I should let you take me out on a date.”
You can see in your peripheral vision that his eyes are on you, and you only flick your gaze to his face when you notice it’s the longest he’s been silent this entire time, and you find that he’s taking in the sight of you bent over this table. He snaps out of it when you sit back into your chair.
“And you constantly staring at my ass doesn’t exactly charm me, either.”
He glances over his shoulder for a brief second, as if to confirm the emptiness of this room, then grabs your chair to roll you towards him in between the space he’s created by the obnoxious amount of spread to his legs, and you wobble a little due to your seated position on your heels. A gasp leaves your lips at how close his face is now, and his hands hold onto the armrests of your chair to make sure it stays that way. “What do I have to do to charm you?”
You blink at him for a few, startled as you take in the serious expression on his face, and his eyes are so captivating you have trouble finding words. You know why he’s asking—because he’s teetering on an edge of desperation that’s evident in the way he can’t seem to tear his gaze away from your lips, like he’s just one slip of self control away from refusing your denial of him and closing this distance between the two of you that you seem so intent on torturing him with.
“I–” you start, and you grab onto his forearm with the excuse of gaining balance, the texture of a vein pulsing felt underneath your palm, “...I don’t know, figure it out.”
It’s a lame response, but you just can’t explain it. One week of him pining after you didn’t feel like enough, not after all the suffering he put you through after he rejected you, and maybe it was a little petty but you just liked seeing him chase after you because it felt like you finally had the power, the control, and that’s exactly why you don’t have an answer for him. But also, in your defense, his attempts to charm you so far have been………….rather unique and odd, and you’re starting to wonder if he’s ever had to “court” a woman before. Actions that have you realizing pretty privilege might really be a thing since he’s gotten this far despite his strange decision making.
Like earlier this week when he showed up to your apartment with flowers, but of course it wasn’t one of those sweet bouquets you’re always eyeing from the check-out line at Trader Joe’s, no–this man had pilfered an arrangement of roses and marigolds and tulips and dandelions from the park downtown near the city library while he was on a morning run and then showed up at your apartment with them in his hand. It annoyed you, because it was six in the morning, so not only did the ring of the doorbell wake you up but you also became annoyed at the early-morning reminder about how you’re not someone like Gojo who wakes up at the crack of dawn to casually go on eight mile runs (your biggest fear is marrying someone that wakes up at 5am on a Sunday to go on hikes and he unfortunately seems the type). But when you fluffed up those flowers in a vase at the kitchen counter a few hours after you shoo’d him away all in the name of getting a few more minutes of shuteye, you noticed the softness of the stems on the roses, and you realized he plucked each of the thorns off one by one before giving them to you.
He also showed up to your door yesterday, with twigs and leaves in his ruffled hair, a tear through his nylon shirt, and a small tuxedo kitten in the palm of his hand. When you asked him where he found the tiny thing, he said he heard something crying in the bushes while he was walking somewhere. And you figured that’s all the sensory input he would’ve needed to walk through ivy and thorns to find it. Something about I don’t know, I thought you’d think it’s cute and you’d wanna keep it, and you took it from him, the tiny thing so adorable and just a little puff ball in your hands, and most definitely covered in fleas. And then you started crying, because you remembered you can’t keep animals in your apartment. And then he started panicking because he didn’t know why you were crying and he tried to comfort you and that only made it worse and you kicked him out of your apartment with the tiny fluff baby too so as not to get attached, and you’re sure he still has absolutely no clue what he did wrong.
That’s how you would describe his efforts, in all honesty. But a part of you knows that he’s trying. You’re not entirely sure why that’s his definition of trying, but you haven’t thought a lot about what dating him would look like. You were so caught up in how you felt about him, and whether he felt the same, but you never thought a step forward after that. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said you could handle staying away from him any longer.
By the way, Gojo kept the kitten. He’s still working on a name but he’s thinking Grand Theft Auto just so he can say ain’t no way got GTA cat before GTA6.
“All you are is pain and suffering,” he says. “You know that, right?” He rolls your chair even closer, to where the momentum has you threatening to fall right into him, so your hand moves from his forearm to his shoulder, and you're starting to get suspicious he’s trapping you in his personal space.
“You’ll learn to manage it,” you say to him, voice hushed, and you see it in his face that your words excite him.
It’s hard to think straight when those eyes are on you, and after a solid minute of just staring at your lips, he moves his gaze up to level with yours to prove some level of restraint. But what he can’t keep himself from doing is placing a hand on your thigh, pressure soft as his fingers press into the fabric of your jeans, and the movement is slow when he slides his palm up to grip your hip but with more intent.
Your hand that was grasping onto his shirt starts inching towards his neck until it settles on the curve where it meets his shoulder, and your fingers lightly brush against the texture of the hair at his nape. His eyes are still on yours, even with the test of your tongue swiping across your bottom lip.
“Let me kiss you,” he says, and it would sound like a demand if he didn’t say it so breathlessly. His other hand also reaches out to grip onto your hips, urging you more towards him. Another shift forward and you’d be sitting in his lap.
“Oh, we’re asking for permission now?” you chastise, thumb pressing into his neck. He sucks a breath in through his teeth, and now his gaze drops to your lips.
“Yeah, ‘cause last time you were pissed about it.”
You almost roll your eyes. “Wow, my audacity,” you comment sarcastically.
“Just give it to me,” he says, face tilting, the perfect amount to kiss you if you just gave him– “the permission.”
Your breathing picks up when he leans forward, your eyes hooded slightly on reflex, and you’re both staring at each other's lips like it was stupid you’re not kissing right now.
The slam of the door startles you, and being one inch away from him turns into a foot of distance as your head turns to face the entrance of the room. Gojo’s still gripping onto your hips, keeping your chair close to him, and you’re shifting your body weight on your heels as you try to pull off his hold of you until he finally relents and releases.
There’s a student standing at the door, posture slumped as he holds a binder to his chest, and you can tell he’s probably a first or second year with the way he’s wide-eyed and just staring. When he realizes you’re waiting for him to speak, he jumps a little. “Oh! Uh, is this…where the Film Club showcase is happening?”
You straighten your posture, in a way that means business, and struggle a little to untuck your legs from your seated position on your chair to then stand up onto your feet with a bristling sensation of nerves in them when you realize they had fallen asleep. “Yes! Yes, it is. B202, you’ve got the right place,” you say and manage an awkward smile.
The student’s gaze shifts to Gojo, who you see in your peripheral vision is leaning back in his chair, knee swinging side to side and arms crossed at his chest. You want to tell him to sit up straight and not look so nonchalant in the presence of a stranger, but there are some things about a person you can’t really change.
You see the moment in the student’s eyes when he recognizes Gojo, and those wide eyes somehow become even wider. “Woah,” is all he says with a few blinks.
“Um,” you say, taking a step forward, “I’m sorry, what’s your name?” You feel eyes on your back as Gojo watches the interaction.
“Haru!” he says, “I think I messaged the club’s Instagram page last week…not sure if you’re the person I talked to.”
“Oh, yes, I remember,” you say and introduce yourself to him again. “Thank you for coming, but the event actually doesn’t start for a while…”
“Oh, my bad,” he says, “I’ll…” his gaze flickers to behind you, “...come back soon then.”
You purse your lips together and politely nod before he exits the room and you let out the breath you were holding, face wincing a little from the awkward interaction.
You turn on your heel to head back to the table, and you see Gojo still slumped in his chair looking at you with curiosity.
“Okay, seriously, please stop distracting me,” you say as you take a seat on your chair again and pick up your paint brush, “I need to finish this now, because I won’t have time before the event tonight.”
“Why won’t you have time before?” he asks, tapping on his phone screen to check the time. “It’s at six, right?”
“Yes, but I have to finish this poster, and then rehearse my presentation. And then I have to get the supplies from my professor’s room, and also need to go get the pizza and refreshments, and–”
“And why are you doing all this by yourself?” he asks, setting his elbow on the desk and leaning his cheek against the knuckles of his curled hand. He pulls the hood of his hoodie over his head.
You sigh. “The other board members were busy this week. With midterms and stuff. I mean, I’m busy too, but this is a really important event.” You sneak a glance at him, and his earnest attention is suddenly making you feel nervous. “It’s the freshman & sophomore students’ chances to show off their works in a large capacity, and talk to some people about their photos, even book some shoots if there’s a decent turnout.” He nods at you thoughtfully. “Anyways,” you say, directing our attention back to your poster, “I didn’t want to cancel it, so I just figured I’d take on the job. But I wasn’t expecting any distractions.” You regard him with an annoyed flick of your eyes in his direction.
He hums softly, and you use his silence to get lost in your thoughts for a moment. You still need to rehearse the presentation slides, and it could be the exhaustion you’ve faced in the past week that causes you to shake a little from the anticipation of speaking in front of people, but you realize that you’re nervous. Nervous to publicly speak. Nobara usually does these sorts of things as the president, you’ve always opted out to do more of the behind-the-scenes as vice, but there’s this feeling you’ve got that makes you realize if this event doesn’t go smoothly, there’s no one to blame but you.
You glance over at Gojo for a second, who has been watching you this whole time, and he raises an eyebrow in question. You blink, and shake your head slightly, as if to say oh, nothing and then your eyes slowly travel back to the brush in your hand.
“Are you nervous?” he asks you.
Your eyes widen slightly. “Huh?” you squeak out before looking at him.
He uses a jerk of his chin to point to your hand. “You’re shaking.”
You look down at your hand, and notice it is indeed trembling slightly, and you're about to hold your wrist with your other hand to keep yourself from shaking, but his hand beats you to it when it falls over your own. You look down at the sight, and then slightly tilt your palm upwards so you can loosely hold onto his. He squeezes it once and you look at him.
“You’ll be fine,” he says.
It all feels a little silly. I mean, you can imagine the last thing in the world he could empathize with is stage fright. He plays in front of thousands of people in stands every week, of whom you’d say half of which are showing up for him exclusively, and even if the team’s down during the half or stakes are insanely high, or if the chants are so loud most people could hardly even hear themselves think, he always pulls through in the end. Something as simple as presenting in front of a handful of students in a media room wouldn’t have his hand trembling the way yours is right now, because there probably isn’t a fearful bone in his body.
“Do you ever get nervous?” you ask him. It comes out faster than you could think, but curiosity is killing you.
His eyes study your face, brows dropping a little.
“I mean, on the field,” you clarify, “when you’re playing.”
He relaxes a little bit. “Oh, no, not really. I mean, sorta, but it’s not really a feeling I can afford to give much thought to when I’m out there, so I guess not?”
“Mm…” you hum, accepting his answer, and his fingers curl over your hand to hold it a little tighter. “I see. I wonder what that’s like.”
“What what is like?” he asks.
“Not getting nervous.”
“I get nervous sometimes. Just not really on the field.”
“When do you get nervous?” you ask him.
“Usually when I’m with you.”
Your eyes study his intently and your cheeks feel warm.
“Are you just messing with me?” you ask, with a half scoff, to prepare yourself to play it off as a joke.
“No, I’m not,” he states, “I get nervous around you. Cause I’m always scared I’m gonna fuck shit up somehow.”
“Oh,” you say, shoulders slumping a little, “I thought it was a different kind of nervous.” Like a love sick, can’t breathe around the person, heart about to give out kind of soul crushing adoration-filled nervousness.
He looks at you puzzled. “What other kind of nervous is there?” he asks.
You sigh. “Nevermind.” You pull your hand out from under his, and he flexes his fingers a little, like he’s getting used to the absence of your hand underneath his, before he withdraws it back to his side.
Your hand is still shaking.
“Hey,” he says, leaning in a bit closer to make sure you hear what he has to say, “I saw you slap the shit out of a guy at a bar for disrespecting you and then telling that other fuckface to go take it up the ass. Which is probably the most badass thing I think I’ve ever seen anyone do, so I know you’ve got no reason to be nervous right now.”
You take in a deep breath for confidence and nod.
“Okay,” you whisper.
He leaves you alone for the most part after that while you work on your slides, except for his occasional loud shouts when he messes up some mission in the combat game he’s playing on his phone. And you remember he’s someone who’s supposed to be extremely busy, and probably has shit to do right now, but he’s essentially killing all day here with you.
“What are you doing?” he asks when he peers over at your laptop screen once you come back from a bathroom break.
“Oh.” You stretch your fingers out and close them into fists over your keyboard before going back to one of your open tabs. “I need to submit my grad school application.”
Gojo places his elbows on the table and leans his weight onto them, watching your laptop screen from beside you as you navigate UTokyo’s grad school application portal. You can already tell he’s dissociating.
“It’s done?” he asks as you click through the webpage.
“Yes. It’s done. Officially. I just need to–,” you take a deep breath in, “I just need to press…submit.”
Your cursor hovers over the blue button, in the same way your finger is hovering over your mousepad, and you’re stuck frozen.
Gojo leans in closer to your space to where you can smell the soft fragrance of his detergent, “then press submit.”
“I…I will.” You blink at the screen.
But you’re the queen of stalling, in all aspects of life.
He takes his elbow off the table and reaches his arm over to your laptop before pressing down firmly on the right-click cursor button, and you watch in a panic as the loading circle appear on the screen as he calmly retreats his arm, and then you see Congratulations on submitting your UTokyo Graduate School Early Admissions Application for the 2024-25 School Year!
“What–” you look at him with shock.
“You were taking too long,” he says with a shrug.
You slump into your seat with a small pout and watch your phone light up with a confirmation email as well.
“So how should we celebrate when you get in?” he asks.
“We? And when as in if.”
“Yes, we. And when. Now answer.”
You sigh. “I dunno…”
“Is there something that you really want?” he asks, nudging your arm with his elbow before he lays his cheek down on his forearm on the table so he can see your face better. And he looks so cute and boyfriend-ish with the way his hair sprawls over the sleeve of his hoodie and his cheek is plush from where he’s resting it.
You lean all the way back in your chair. “Mm…to end world hunger. Cure cancer. Bring peace and prosperity to all my friends and family.”
“Yes ok, very kind of you,” he responds, voice scratchy like he’s tired but his leg is bouncing impatiently underneath the table, “I meant something you can buy.”
“Like happiness?”
“Just be serious for a second.”
You laugh. “Hmm…I mean, it’s not really a tangible thing…but I’ve always wanted to take a roadtrip to Mt. Fuji,” you offer.
He lifts his head up off his arm with interest. “Ok, then, when you get in, I’ll take you on a trip to Mt. Fuji. All expenses paid.”
“You sound like one of those travel advisors at the mall that scam families for debit card deposits,” you snort, “also, why do I feel like it’d just be an excuse for you to annoy me in forced proximity over the span of five to seven days.”
He drops his head to rest it on his arm again with a small grumble leaving him. “You’re so cynical sometimes.”
Just a bit jaded since last week, is what you think to say. But you’re not in the mood to explain the existential dread within you since Kai’s whole posse of ultra lame losers stirred the unnerving pot of career stress within you, but maybe you just need a bit of time to come down from it.
“Ok fine. If it’s all paid for, then I guess I shall accept the offer. Er, the prospect of the impending offer.
There’s a grin on his face, kinda drowsy and sick with some sort of glee, and he uncrosses one of his arms from the surface of the table to hold his hand out to you, pinky sticking up in the air.
“Alright then, it’s a promise,” he says.
You blink at him, eyeing his pinky, but he just wiggles it in the air like get on with it. You sigh, curling yours around his firmly, and your signature addition is the press of your thumb to his in security of sealing the deal, which you realize by the slight furrow to his brow that he’s never seen it before. You shrug.
“Pinky promises are never to be broken,” he says, kinda cheekily like he knows it sounds silly, and for a second there’s a glimpse of juvenile innocence on his face. His words sound like something a parent would echo to a child, like words from his own. Your pinkies are still coiled. “You’ve gotta say it too.”
“P-Pinky promises are never to be broken,” you repeat after him.
“Sweet.” He pulls his hand from your and then he turns his face so his forehead is resting on his arm now instead of his cheek, breathing slowly as he’s silent for a minute.
“Are you–...are you sleeping?” you ask.
“Yes.” He muffles into his crossed arms.
“Tired?”
He sighs heavily. “Very.”
“Um…I need your help with some things, though.”
“...okay.”
“Who are we going to see again?” Gojo asks, using a shake of his head to get some of his fringe out of his eyes hands-free as his fingers spread in his hold of the box underneath them, and it’s hard not to admire the way his hands look. Large shades of pale pink where they were slightly strained, like at his knuckles and joints, and those cool toned veins that valley from the grip that he has. There’s something way more attractive about his hands when he puts them to earnest use.
You two are walking down the hallway on the third floor of the building. “Our faculty adviser for our club,” you say, reaching into your pocket to make sure you still had your keys with you, “oh, he’s also the professor I asked for my reference.”
“Ohhh, interesting,” Gojo comments. “You said he’s a fan of soccer right?”
You’re taken back to that first night you met Gojo at that frat party, and you mentioned your professor to him. Feels like forever ago. But at the same time, like yesterday.
“Yes, UTokyo’s team in particular,” you comment, “honestly I think he might faint when he sees you.”
“I wish you would faint when you see me,” he sighs.
You roll your eyes and then finally arrive at your professor’s office. It’s slightly ajar, as it usually is, and you take a small peek inside to see that he’s sitting at his desk, window open and illuminating the room with golden rays of the setting sun, and you’re made aware of the fact that night is coming soon.
“Hi, Professor,” you say after knocking once, and the man jumps in his seat when you pull the door open to step inside. You always forget he’s easily startled, and make another mental note to not scare him anymore because if he gets a heart attack and dies from shock, you wouldn’t be able to afford the lawsuit.
“Hello, hello, y/n,” he greets, sitting up in his chair by grabbing onto the arm rests for leverage, and you can feel the edge of the box push against your back as Gojo makes his way into the room too.
As predicted, your professor nearly faints and dies from shock when he clocks the sight of Gojo, and you briefly wonder if Gojo would be able to afford the lawsuit, and then your professor is running up to him and shaking his hand with a vigor that has the younger man wincing a little in discomfort, but by the short amount of time you’ve finished looking through the storage room for projector cables & supplies, then re-emerge to your professor’s office with filled up boxes in your hands, Gojo’s typing his number into your professor’s phone and apparently he’s going salsa dancing with him and his wife this weekend?
“You should come too,” Gojo says, adjusting his grip on the boxes he took from you as you two meander down the hallway back to the media room.
You dust your hands off. “To what? Salsa dancing?”
“Yeah, apparently there’s gonna be spiked brazilian lemonade,” he coos, like he’s pitching a pyramid scheme to you.
You sigh. “How often do people just randomly invite you to things?”
He glances up at the ceiling like he really needs to think about it. “I dunno. I just accept, don’t always go.”
“So you’re, like, a selective people pleaser,” you note. “Save face in the moment but then run away from the commitment.”
“Relax. I was having a good evening.”
You two make it back to the media room with no more unsolicited psychoanalysis, and you’re scrambling around to get things in order for the event while Gojo tries his best to be helpful wherever he can, but he mostly just looks like a lost puppy.
“Okay so I ordered four pizzas,” you say, holding up four fingers in the air, “and then you also need to get, like, maybe two family size bottles of Coke from the store?” Now two fingers. “A pack of napkins would be nice too since apparently we ran out.” You look through the box you got from your professor’s storage room. “And…I think that’s it. Keep the receipts so I can reimburse you.”
Gojo nods at you after every command, eyes wide and brows furrowed in concentration like he’s really trying to picture the list of tasks in his head so he doesn’t forget any of them, and you feel a bit bad for ordering him around to do all of this for you but he was here anyway so you might as well put him to use.
“And then can you also get some stuff from the trunk of my–er, Mina’s car. I parked it by the Literature building in Lot 16.” You pull the car keys out from your tote bag and hand it to him. He stands there like a statue before his fingers curl around the cold metal keys. “Please be back here a half hour before six!!”
“So I guess I’m a member of the club now?” he muses, throwing the keys up into the air a few feet to then catch them.
“Mm, no, you need to fill out a form to be an official member,” you say as you make your way to the podium and open the drawer to pull out one of the microphones.
“Send me the form then,” he says.
“It’s on our Instagram.” You tap the head of the microphone and are satisfied when you hear thumping across the room’s speakers. “LinkTree in bio!!” you chirp in club advertisement reflex.
He pulls his phone out from his pocket and half leans back/half sits on one of the tables and taps away at his screen. You’re standing at the podium computer scrolling through your logged-in Spotify account to figure out which ambient playlist to have playing for the event.
“Alright,’ he says before slipping his phone back into his pocket, “I just filled out the form.”
Your phone chimes with an email notification right after he says it. “Yay! Congrats! Welcome to UTokyo’s Film Club!” you exclaim, again, in practiced club advertisement reflex.
He smiles at you and crosses his arms. “Are there any cool perks?” he asks.
“Uhh, a chance to enter into a Kodak film roll raffle every semester?” you say, knowing it’s useless because you two are graduating in less than two months so this was your last semester anyway and the raffle had already passed. Oh, also useless because Gojo isn’t a film photographer. Your phone chimes with another email notification. You glance at it. “Oh! Someone else RSVP’d for the event tonight. Yayyy.”
“Sorry, I think that was me,” he says, “I filled out the wrong form at first.”
“Oh,” your shoulders drop in a sulk slightly, done before conscious thought can stop the motion, so now Gojo’s caught onto the fact that you’re upset about something.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, and he walks over to where you’re standing at the podium.
“I’m just a little…bummed out about the turnout,” you confess as you glance at the RSVP form for the event on your phone, “eighteen people signed up, but that includes the eight students that are showcasing their photography. Oh, and now it also includes you. So…that means only nine real sign-ups, and I guess it’s a little less than what I thought it would be.”
“Aww,” he coos, and he places his elbows up onto the wood of the podium, holding his face up to look at you. “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s okay,” you say, and you blush for some reason.
He’s smiling at you now, boyish and lost in thought that probably has nothing to do with the conversation at hand.
“What?” you ask.
“Nothing,” he shakes his head, “I just think you’re really cool.”
“Okayyy,” you diffuse the compliment, “are you going to stay for the event?”
“Will you let me?” he asks.
“Maybe,” you say, “if you don’t do anything strange during it.”
“And if I do?” he asks.
“So you are going to do something strange?”
“Nope.”
“Well, now you seem suspicious.”
He laughs. “I was just joking.”
“When you bring the pizzas back, just leave them outside the door. I’ll take it from there,” you say.
“You’re not even gonna let me inside?” he scoffs.
“No.”
“And if I come inside anyway?”
“I’ll place a bucket of water at the top of the door,” you say, “so it’ll fall on you, except it’ll give you a concussion instead of a soak.”
He snorts. “Yeah? How are you even gonna reach the top of the door?”
“I–...shut up.”
“I can help you,” he grins, leaning forward on the podium, “reach the top of the door.”
“You’re going to help me terrorize you?” You raise an eyebrow at him.
He shrugs. “Anything if it means I get to touch your butt.”
“Wha–!! Why would that entail you touching my butt?!”
He looks confused by your confusion. “Hmm…maybe…maybe we should act out what you think this scenario would entail…and then we can act out what I think this scenario would entail, perhaps multiple times, and then–”
“Just go get the things I asked, please,” you say with a sigh.
He laughs, it’s sweet but loud, and you blush when you realize he’s just messing with you for his own amusement.
“Stop teasing me,” you pout at him.
“I seriously can’t help it,” he tells you, and he leans himself off the podium to stand up straight before shoving the car keys you gave him into his pocket, “the way you react is always so cute.”
You feel like you could melt.
“Alright, I’ll be back,” he says, and you watch him as he heads out the door. And the room feels empty without him.
Luckily there are things you can distract yourself with in his absence. Well, technically he was the distraction, but sometimes it felt like everything else was the distraction keeping you from him.
There’s still about an hour left before the film club students come in to set up the exhibits, and you set up everything else you need to set up around the room, like moving the tables around so that the walk flow is like that of a museum’s, you set the club posters you painted up on the wall, pull a plastic table cover over what will be the food and refreshments section when Gojo eventually brings them. And you spend the last ten minutes rehearsing your slides.
It occurs to you that this is the last time you’ll be doing any of this, possibly for the rest of your life. Film Club still has a few events left for the year, but they’re mostly just tabling events and then the end-of-year banquet at the Cheesecake Factory. And so as you click through slides at the podium, your eyes drift from the screen off into the still empty room. And that feeling of something coming to an end washes over you. But you’re not really sure how to feel about it just yet.
Your thoughts drown out the gradually growing bustling noise outside in the hall, and you only become aware of it about a couple minutes later, when the noises increase into loud shouts and cheers. Was there some event next door that you didn’t know about at the same time as the Film Club event? You didn’t know of any, but right before you can check the university’s social media, the door burst opens and Gojo’s standing there with a stack of four pizzas balancing on one palm, with the pinky hooking a plastic bag seemingly carrying a couple bottles of soda, and in his right hand is—…beer?
“Hey,” Gojo says, a gleeful look on his face. The noises outside are heard clearly with the door he’s keeping open with his foot, and then they disappear back into muffles once again when he closes the door. “Where do you want this stuff?”
You storm up to him. “W-Why did you buy beer?” you ask him.
“Huh?” he glances down at the couple of cases of beer in his left hand. “I mean, pizza and beer, you can’t go wrong with that.”
“What??”
He blinks at you. “I-Is it BYOB or something??”
“Satoru. This isn’t a frat party!! This is a Film Club event!!”
“There’s no alcohol at your events?” he asks, setting the pizzas down on the food and refreshments table you had set up earlier. “I assumed you had just forgotten to ask me to get some from the store when you were listing off tasks earlier.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose. “No. There is no alcohol at our events,” you sigh. But he’s ripping the tops of the cases anyway. “Do you know why it’s so loud outside?” You move towards the door and try to peer through the frosty glass.
“They’re here for the event,” he says. You swirl on your heel to face him, but all you see is the expanse of his back as he rips a pack of napkins open.
“T-This event?” you squeak out.
He looks over his shoulder at you. “Yeah. You said something about the turnout being small, so I posted it to my Instagram story.”
Your mouth drops open.
He stiffens. “I mean, that’s what one of the…” his voice slowly trails off, “…roles & responsibilities was…for the Film Club membership form…to be a member…”
You continue to stare at him.
“…help publicize for club events,” he clarifies.
You quickly turn to face the door again and push it open with force, almost hitting someone straight in the face, and after you apologize for your carelessness, you take in the huge line of people flush against the wall, all chatting with friends in small groups that trail all the way back to the entrance of the building. Most of them are people you’ve recognized at SAE parties and social media posts, and you quickly close the door because now your heart is beating so fast in your chest from the nerves that you can hardly handle it.
You turn to face Gojo again and walk up to him while he’s still busy fixing up the table with more finesse than you'd have expected from him. “Satoru!! I don’t have enough pizza to feed all these people!! There isn’t even enough space in this room for all of them!!” You’re panicking a little.
He tilts his head at you. “Just—…have them walk inside in a single file and round out of the room in a circle.” He gesticulates the plan with his finger in the air. “Easy.”
Right. Like the professional-grade sports conference signings he’s been a part of. “I’m just one person. I have no idea how I’m gonna deal with a group that large.”
“Relax,” he assures you, and he takes a step towards you to hold both your hands in his, “it’s going to be fine! You’ve done these events before, it’s no different than those times. Plus you’re not just one person! I’ll be here with you, too.”
His overwhelming positivity and ease and nonchalance is starting to contrast way too heavily with your anxiety and uncertainty and cynicism, and it has you pulling your hands from his because your palms are starting to get sweaty.
The door creaks open slightly ajar, and you both turn to face it. Haru, the film student from earlier, takes a step into the room.
“Hi!! This is—…this is where the event is supposed to be, right?” he asks sheepishly with skepticism, likely because he can’t believe the line outside.
“Yes!” you confirm, and you glance at the projector screen for the time, “take a seat, I’ll be going over logistics soon.”
Following him suit are a few other film students that trickle in and take seats at the tables, and you do a mental roll call and notice that only a couple are missing. But you’ve only got five minutes until the hour starts for the event, so you shut the door airtight for a peaceful ambience and rush to the front of the room at the podium.
“Hi,” you say into the mic, “thanks so much to you all for coming here!! In a few minutes, I’ll be opening the door for people to come by and check out your photo exhibits. I ask that if you do get commissions booked for your work, you write it down on the sheets provided so we can assess the helpfulness of these events in helping students secure freelance work!” You’re practically reading off a script as a coping mechanism, because your hand is shaking in anticipation. You look down at it underneath the hood of the podium, and in a second, it’s being covered by a familiar hand.
Gojo’s standing next to you at the podium now, holding your hand but discreet from view, and it gives you enough ease to finish your presentation smoothly, mostly because it goes by in a blur with the distraction of his comforting hand squeezes, and you can finally release the deep breath you were holding in.
“Awesome,” Gojo says right when you dismiss the students to start setting up their photo exhibits at their tables, “you finished the presentation. It wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“You almost sound patronizing,” you sigh, but you turn your palm up so he can hold your hand anyway.
By the time you open the door for the event, your anxiety has settled, and all you feel is awe as you watch people make their way into the room. Albeit most of them just go straight for the beer and pizza at first (which you’re pretty sure is illegal to serve on campus, but whatever), and you had to make the last minute decision to change your spotify playlist on the speakers from Studio Ghibli classics to early 2000s club music just to keep them engaged, but as the event proceeds, they all start to travel down the exhibit tables and glance at students photos sprawled across tables and swiping through slideshows on their laptops, and there’s genuine conversation and interest.
Turns out frats & sororities were the target audience for professional photography all along? Considering how anal they are about their social media aesthetics and what-not. Something you’d never even really considered until today, and somehow your world has become a little bit bigger than what it was before.
As you walk around the room just to eavesdrop on some conversations and make sure things are going okay, you steal glances at the freelance commision sign up papers that the film students are keeping track of, and you see occasions written down like birthday photoshoot and grad photos and aunt’s baby shower scribbled under the event columns and you start to feel emotional. The little freshmen & sophomore film students look so ecstatic with the amount of work they’re booking in one evening, and for once you feel like a proud mom.
This is singlehandedly the biggest turnout you’ve ever seen for any event you’ve ever hosted, and for someone that has a hard time asking for help most of the times, you finally see what you’ve been missing out on when you do let someone see you for who you are and they just know what’s important to you.
When you think of it, he’s always known what’s important to you. And he’s always cared.
You’re blinking fast to fight the sheen of tears when you look at Gojo from across the room, who’s chatting it up with some people he knows and then ushering them into the showcase line, because you realize he’s made you feel really proud of yourself today, which is something you’ve really struggled with in the past week.
It’s been four years since you joined this club, with hours of hard work invested into events that weren’t going to get the front page of the newsletter like the Friday soccer games would, or get circulated around on social media like the sorority formals would, but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t any less important. And it’s ironic that someone like Gojo who fits into that world of prestige and popularity and success is the one to show you that.
“Hey.” You jump when you hear Gojo’s voice near you and realize you had been too lost in thought to notice that he was approaching you. He’s pointing over his shoulder towards the door. “Some guy came by and said we’ve only got five minutes left for the room?”
You turn away from him slightly, and the sniffle of your nose is quiet enough in the loud echoes of the room. “Oh, yes, um, we only had it booked for an hour. I didn’t think we’d need more than that.”
“Oh okay,” he says, “I’ll tell everyone to get lost then.”
“But not before telling them to follow us on Instagram!!” you chirp at him in practiced club advertisement reflex, “the QR code is posted on the door.”
He nods slowly. “Sure thing, boss.” He turns to head back to the line of people still leading out of the door, but his eyes linger on your face and he turns back to you. The step he takes towards you makes you nervous, because you don’t want him to see you were on the verge of tears. You’re good at hiding these sorts of things.
“Are you okay?” he asks, tilting his head down to look at you straight in the face because it’s obvious you’re not making eye contact.
You take in a deep breath and finally level your gaze with his when you’re certain your eyes are dry. “Yes, fine. Thank you.” And you smile at him. And he takes your word for it.
__
It’s pitch black outside as you walk with Gojo across campus towards the parking lot. He’s carrying all the supplies you have to take home in boxes piled high in his arms, while you just pull an empty mini wagon along because there’s way too many stairs as obstacles for any mode of transport by wheel.
There are a few moments where your shoulder accidentally brushes against his arm, and it’s mostly because you can’t walk in a straight line for the life of you, but you like it because it just feels nice to be in his space somehow. Like those little moments when your knee bumps someone else’s under the table, or your hands touch when handing something to someone, always noticed but never addressed because it just felt natural.
On the way to the faculty parking lot, where the blacktop is barely lit by the baseball stadium lights off in the distance, the exhaustion of the day catches up to you. Gojo’s hand reaches inside his pocket and he pulls out Mina’s car keys before pressing down on a button to open the trunk.
“Gosh, I forgot you had those keys,” you sigh as you fold the wagon and slide it into the back. “I would’ve freaked out if I noticed I didn’t have them.”
“Yeahhh I considered pretending that I lost them just to fuck with you, but I got lazy,” he says with a shrug and a yawn then sets down the boxes in the trunk with a slight grunt that leaves him, then he’s dusting his hands off.
You do a quick look-through of the supplies to make sure you didn’t forget anything in the room, and then pull your phone out to text Nobara that everything went well today. Well, great. Fantastic. Honestly, she’ll be shocked by the turnout when she sees the Instagram photos you’ll be posting to the club’s socials.
Gojo pulls down on the top of the trunk and shuts it closed, then he turns to face you. “Alright, so…”
“So…” you repeat after him, and you’re not sure why the air feels a little awkward, but you twiddle with your fingers because you don’t have the desire to step into the car and head home just yet.
Gojo nods slowly, looking around himself at the ground. “I guess that’s everything.”
“Mhm.”
He scratches the back of his head, and you realize he’s not making any moves to walk away either.
“Um,” you say, “Satoru–”
“Yeah?” he responds, fast, the second you say his name.
You take a step closer to him, and lean your hip against the car. “Thank you,” you say, holding onto your elbow and rubbing soothing circles over your own arm, “for what you did tonight.”
He tilts his head at you in confusion, but then his face relaxes. “Oh, no worries,” he says with a smile, and his voice sounds a little tired from the day too, “I’m pretty sure you would’ve killed yourself if you tried to carry those boxes down the stairs.”
“What?...no, no, not for the boxes,” you say with a shake of your head, and then you remember you need to be offended by what he just said, “what the hell, that’s not true. I have more than sufficient upper body strength.”
He tucks his bottom lip under his teeth, like to stifle a laugh. “Uh-huh.”
You sigh and briefly pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance and then shake the feeling off with a shake of your head. “I meant…for what you did by publicizing the event.” And for being there for you, when you were feeling alone and nervous about the whole thing, like he could tell you just really needed someone to be with you. But you bite your tongue before you can say that part too.
His brow furrows for a moment, and you realize he’s confused about the appreciation.
“It’s just, I know what it was like when I was a freshman and sophomore, feeling like my work wasn’t really reaching anyone,” you say to him, the vulnerability on your sleeve as you speak, “so it was a really nice thing for you to do for those underclassmen today. I saw the looks on their faces, and they looked really happy. And–...I’m sure it made their day.” You glance off to the side for a moment because you feel a little shy, and then you look back at him. “It made mine too.”
He takes a step towards you, and he’s close now, to where the tips of his shoes almost touch yours. His eyes are calm, darker with minimal light to reflect off of but there are still stars in them as always. “I’m glad I could help. Uh, well, I’m a member of the club now, so, if you need any other help, then. You know where to find me.”
You laugh. “I doubt there’s much I could give you to do at this point in the year, but alright. If anything comes up, I’ll assign it to you.”
You both look up at each other with small smiles. Your thumbs still swiped over the skin of your arm, and he shoves his hands in his pockets to look at his feet, rocking back and forth on his heels slightly. You click your tongue and look up at the sky, and he tilts his head to the side a few times to stretch it out. Were you two just so brain-fried by the day that you can’t even think of a single thing to say to one another? But if that was the case, then why not just call it a day and go home?
There’s a person on a bicycle that passes by, jingling his bell in the process and that breaks the two of you out of this weird trance, and then he’s clearing his throat and you’re shifting on your feet.
“Oh, by the way—” “Um, I just wanted to—” you both say at the same time.
You blink at each other.
“Sorry,” he laughs, “go ahead.”
“No, no, you go ahead,” you say.
“It’s fine,” he gestures to you. “You first.”
“Are you sure?” you ask.
“Yeah.”
“Really?”
“Well—,” he starts, “I’ll say what I want to say after you say what you want to say…so…no worries. Go ahead.”
“Right,” you nod in agreement, and scratch your arm a little. “I just wanted to say I’m still…sorry about what I said to you last week outside that bar,” you confess, “about…having it easy in life.” You squeeze your upper arm in anxious tendency. “ImeanIknowIalreadyapologizedforit,” you say, fast, with surprisingly no tongue twist, “but…still. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t open up to me about stuff because of what I said and because of…I guess, the…mean impression I claimed to have of you. I just don’t think I was in a great headspace, and…well.” You look up at him and his expression is soft. “I’ve really appreciated being able to talk to you about lots of things. Um. So, yeah, I just wanted to say again that I’m really sorry about it.” You take in and release a deep breath once you’re done with your ramble.
He’s quiet for a moment as he lets your words sink in, and he briefly glances down at his shoes, shoulders raising slightly to roll them back and then he relaxes them when he looks at you again.
“It’s okay,” he says, and he leans against the car now too. “I know you said that I was contributing to making you feel that way, so I owe you an apology for that too.”
You blink up at him.
“Plus, you were dealing with a bunch of pricks,” he says, “and stressed about your future.”
“Mm,” you acknowledge.
“We’re seniors,” he randomly mentions, “I think we’re all just…trying to figure ourselves out? So, I get it. And I don’t want you to feel bad about it.”
You feel a tickle in your throat, and the distracting pain of your nails digging into the palms of your hands is enough to direct your brain away from getting emotional right now. “That’s true. Figuring ourselves out. Mm.”
He gives you a small smile, and then he sighs when he remembers something. “Yeah, a friend of mine just broke up with his girlfriend of six years because he didn’t get into law school, so, stress is a crazy thing.”
“Oh no, I’m so sorry for him–and, them.”
“Yeahhh he bought a ring and everything,” Gojo says, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing a little in empathetic discomfort.
“Oh my gosh.”
“Well, anyway,” he laughs a little, in some sort of fear that he’s just made things awkward, “you don’t have to worry about what you said. I–” he pauses, “I’m hard to get rid of when I want to be around. Ask Suguru, he’s tried to get rid of me on multiple occasions.”
You laugh, and he doesn’t follow up with any more jokes or explanations, like he just wants to hear your laugh in its purity. And you nod, taking in his words for a bit, letting them rerun in your head, because they leave a warmth in you.
“Have you given any thought to what you want to do after graduation?” you ask, and you’re humbled by the fact that you never even thought to ask him that before. Hell, you even asked the stranger you sat next to in stats today that question before you ever asked him.
“Yeah,” he nods, “I think I’m gonna play for the national league.”
“Oh! That’s awesome,” you chirp, “I have no doubt you’ll get it. I’ve seen those recruiters constantly coming up to you during games.” You lightly poke his arm in flattery. “Although you always look super annoyed when they do.”
He laughs. “Yeah, they have no concept of time or place.”
“But anyway,” you say, “that’s really cool. I know your dreams are going to come true, and you’ll be great at it too.”
He nods, and you notice your words seem a little lost on him, like he's distracted by something else, but he covers it up with a well-meaning smile of pursed lips and then another silence settles between you two.
“Oh, what were you gonna,” you start, pointing your finger at him, “what were you gonna say?”
“Oh, right, phew, thanks,” he exhales in relief at the reminder, “well, I guess it’s more of a…question,” he’s sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, “but we–the frat–is hosting this barbeque thing on Thursday before our game on Friday…and, I was wondering if you’d want to come.” His words hang in the air for a moment as he’s preemptively studying your expression for any clue of an answer, and you realize he’s nervous. When you keep your features neutral, he feels the need to keep speaking. “I mean I—...I’d have to send you the invite, ‘cause it’s kind of an exclusive thing…it’s also in the afternoon since it’s too late in season for us to be throwing parties the night before a game, but, uh, if you’re free,” he pauses to take a breath, “I’d really love it if you came.”
You just stare at him.
He holds his hands up in a slight panic, shoulders tense. “Not a—…it’s not a date though. Don’t worry.”
“Ahh…” you nod, feigning relief but in all honesty you forgot about how many times you’ve turned down his pleas for a date this week and you think it’s sort of cute but also sad that he felt the need to clarify. “Yeah, um, I’ll let you know.”
He smiles, it’s genuine and real and something you’ll never get tired of. “Alright, cool.”
And here you two are standing again in silence, just looking at one another. If you were on the outside, looking in, you’d think that the two of you had just met. Like a fresh start.
Your breathing slows as you gaze up at him, because the way his brow furrows ever so slightly as he looks at you is so handsome and sweet and it makes you remember how when you first met him, you wondered if you’d ever feel relaxed in his presence from how gorgeous he is. Back then, you never would’ve imagined that you would make him nervous someday.
His gaze slowly travels down to your lips, and you feel your eyes soften to where everything else around you is a blur. You want to kiss him. Maybe as a thanks, or a reward, something sweet to show him how much today meant to you. You tilt your head, looking up with doe eyes and flutters of your eyelashes, in the most obvious way a girl could silently tell a guy she wants him to kiss her. He’d have to be the most immensely dense person on the planet to not—
“You really should think about the salsa dancing,” he says, breaking any and all energy between the two of you, “I think it’d be fun.”
You blink at him for a solid ten seconds, and then sigh with a slight slump to your shoulders, because you realize he’s probably never had to guess if a girl wants him to kiss her or not. And he’s still as dense as the person he was when you first fell for him. But there’s something endearing about it, too. Simple. Simple was what you needed. “Mhm.”
After another brief moment of silence, you tuck your hair behind your ears.
“I should get going,” you say, through an awkward half laugh, “I have an essay due at 8AM tomorrow, so...I need to go home and procrastinate.” That earns a short snort from him, and you lean yourself off of the car to head towards the driver’s side. Gojo’s on your tail and then suddenly a step ahead of you as he gets the door for you and you sit inside then fiddle with the rearview mirror just to give your hands something to do because you feel his eyes on you and it’s all-consuming as ever.
“Hey,” he says, resting his elbow on top of the car door as he peers down at you, “text me when you get home.”
You look up at him while you push the keys into ignition. “I will. Good night.”
“Night,” he says with a soft smile on his face, and he hesitates for a moment before he closes the door. Like something someone would do when they don’t want a moment to end.
.
.
.
Tumblr media
a/n. thanks so much for reading!! this was such a domestic little chapter to write haha i think it’s the most mellow of the three scenes i wrote for the original longer version of ch10 but sdkfhsdkf i still really enjoyed writing it.
anywhoooooooo the next chapter will be the frat bbq :0 i’m very excited for that one, i think it’s my favorite of the three installments aaa there’s a scene i wrote for it that is one of the highlights in the series for me so far. not because it’s angsty or dramatic or anything, it’s just really silly and cute and horny and is kinda young love vibes and i’m living for that recently because gege has ripped my heart out already i cannot handle angst rn xD hope that’s ok
again thanks so much for reading. i think some of you may know it was really hard for me to push through w writing bc of lots of reasons and stuff that was happening on my account, but all the lovely support n messages really motivated me to not give up on the chapter and i really appreciate that a lot!!
also i had fun dedicating the last chapter to someone, so i kinda wanted to do that again!! i have a lovely n sweet 🫶🏼 anon whose birthday was i think the week after i was supposed to initially post ch10, but unfortunately i didn’t get around to posting it in time even though i said it would be my early bday gift to them BAHAHAH so i wanted to dedicate this chapter to my darling 🫶🏼 anon <33 happy belated birthday my love!!
aaa i’ll hopefully see you in the next one!! :’’) love u all sm <3
- ellie 💕
➸ you're all caught up!
Tumblr media
additional notes: please do not ask me for updates (read rules); also, i have decided to officially close the taglist! i’m so sorry, but it’s getting a little too much for me to keep track of :’’) and apparently i have to manually input the tags as well as make separate posts to include everyone because of the tag limit, and it’s too stressful for me lol. i will continue to tag the people who i have been tagging so far (if you were tagged in this chapter or in my separate extended taglist post, i will continue to tag you in future chapters), but if you were not able to make the taglist, i do post on ao3 at the same time as tumblr, and ao3 has a subscription feature where you can get emails for updates! i think that would be helpful for anyone wanting to keep up w the story. sorry!!
taglist:
@megumisdivinedogs @witchbybirth @avatarl0v3r @mwtsxri @asherheed
@wynney @delulux3 @higurumapet @zombriesworld @xenop0p
@phoenix-eclipses @who-can-touch-my-boob @mo0nforme @reagan707 @lost-resonance
@foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @beabadobeee @thexmistress
@tsukikourito @getitsatoru @gabriiiiiiii @kissofife @tiredflame132
766 notes · View notes
roebeanstalk · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media
My landlord has decided not to move forward with me as a tenant due to my history with payment/mental health. While this is frustrating as heck, it’s allowed me to find a better, more affordable housing situation. I have signed a lease at a new place and move in July 1st!
I’m asking for help with the security deposit, which is $485 and needs to be paid within the first week of June.
Cashapp https://cash.app/clawshot venmo https://venmo.com/rmck89 ko-fi https://ko-fi.com/roebeanstalk
Once the deposit is paid, my space on the lease is officially secured and I am good to go. This is the main thing that I am looking for help with.
Any help at all is super appreciated. Every dollar adds up, and shares are so helpful too. I know that I’ve received so much help from people in the past and I can’t thank you all enough. I hope that this is the last of these that I have to do.
Needs:
Security deposit: $0/$485 June rent: $0/$675
Bonus: July rent (First month at new place): $485 Movers + Uhaul: $300-350
More info on my situation under the cut!
Thank you so, so so much.
Why I need help:
I have a history of mental health issues, and as a result I have a very difficult time getting and maintaining employment. My mental health also impacts my ability to keep up with and complete freelance/commission work in a timely manner. While I have made some incredible steps forward lately thanks to the right combo of therapy, medication, and a support system, I am still not at a point where I am self-sufficient yet. I am getting there – and I am committed to keep trying no matter what.
This new housing situation is incredible for me – it’s a room in a quiet house with two other queer folk, and the rent is very affordable compared to my current situation. The new place is $485/month, the current place is $675/month. Even with utilities, my total overhead for shelter will cost less than rent at my current place. If I can secure my spot in this house and move forward, I see such a clear path forward for me in terms of self-improvement and self-sufficiency.
For the first time in 15 years, I feel like I can tackle the things ahead of me. If you’re able to help out I would really, really appreciate it.
What I’m doing:
I am job hunting for something that works well for my situation. With the cost of rent, I think that a part time job will be able to cover it. The process of getting a job is difficult for me, but I am committed to continuing to work at it.
On the art front, I have occasional comic coloring jobs that help me out. I also have commissions – I have finally been moving forward at a good rate and have been really happy with my work. In time, this will be able to be a more standard income route. I also have a Patreon that brings in about $65/month.
Cashapp https://cash.app/clawshot / venmo https://venmo.com/rmck89 / ko-fi https://ko-fi.com/roebeanstalk
Thank you so much for reading over all of this. Thank you to everyone who has helped with donations or kind words or reblogs. Thank you so much to every commissioner and customer who has been patient as hell with me on artwork, communication, and stickers. Thank you thank you thank you. Thanks to every single one of you I have been able to keep pushing myself forward, and I'm so happy to keep doing it and make good on everything. And eventually, give back to my community. I love you all so much, even though i don't know any of you that well. Thank youuuu. <3
738 notes · View notes
cameronluvr · 2 days
Text
TENNIS COURT — rafe cameron x kook!reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: you beg rafe to play some tennis with you on your private tennis court, but he gets tired of losing and fucks you right there instead.
warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, semi public sex, risky sex, pet names, just PURE smut in this one — lmk if i missed any! 𖤓
: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Tumblr media
you stand in your backyard, fiddling with your tennis skirt before hearing the door open. you look up with a grin on your face upon seeing your boyfriend in his cute tennis outfit.
“adorable,” you giggle.
“shut up. come on,” he laughs, holding your hand as you walk down the steps of your huge yard which lead to the tennis court. your mom is a tennis player, so having a whole private court in your own backyard was awesome.
you both grab a racket each before walking to opposite sides of the court.
“you’ve played tennis before, right?” you ask, giggling as you swing your racket in your hand. you grew up playing the sport, so you were pretty good at it by now.
“of course i have” he says, getting into position, ready for you to serve the ball. “hm, okay, let’s see who’s better then, rafey” you smirk, both getting into competitive mode.
you swing the ball up into the air, hitting it with your racket, watching as it flies over to rafe’s side. he rushes to hit it, but he completely misses, making you cover your mouth to hide your laugh.
“that didn’t happen.” he says, running to catch the ball with his hand. “okay, you serve then” you chuckle. he’s so cute. he was definitely lying about having played tennis before.
he gets back into position, lining himself up before throwing the ball up and swinging his bat, this time hitting the ball. but, the ball goes the opposite direction to where he wanted it to go, landing in the sidelines.
“fuck,” he frustrated himself.
you can’t help but to laugh at him. you both continue playing, or trying to play before rafe got fed up, tossing his racket aside and walking over to you. “you sure you’ve played tennis before?” you squint with suspicion and a giggle.
“y’know, tennis isn’t really my thing.” he says, laughing it off before pulling you into a hug. you loved sharing these moments together, they were sweet, it was pure love.
“no? then what is?” you grin, looking up at him as your chin rests on his chest. “you, baby” he smirks down at you, his tall figure towering over you.
“yeah?” you smirk, biting your lip slightly. “yeah, you look so fucking sexy in those shorts i can barely think about anything else.” he tells you, reaching his hands around and down to your ass, gripping your cheeks and pulling them up, making you gasp.
“aww, is that why you were so bad at tennis?” you joke, making him separate your ass cheeks slightly which turned you on so bad, and he knew it. “rafe, don’t do that” you whine, knowing your parents were home and you couldn’t do anything.
“why not, baby? hm?” he asks, rubbing your butt to tease you more. “you know why” you whine. “n’aww. you think mommy and daddy will see you out here?” rafe giggles at you being so worried. “duh,” you raise your eyebrows sarcastically.
“my love, we can’t even see the house from here.” rafe tells you, twisting your body around to allow you to see. he points to the bushes surrounding that side of the tennis court, followed by a wall behind it. your parents surely wouldn’t be able to see, but it’s definitely still risky.
“but we’re not gonna fuck out here, silly” you roll your eyes, wishing he’d stop teasing you but you clearly don’t get his point. “says who?” he asks. “wait— really? you wanna fuck here? but— it’s so open..” you widen your eyes, looking around the yard and being able to see your neighbors houses.
“who cares? nobody will see us.” he says as if he’s certain. “how do you know?” you ask, still looking around but his hand gently grabs your face, pulling it forward to face him. “just trust me. don’t be so paranoid, i got you. it’s just me and you, gorgeous” he reassures you, smiling before dropping his hand and pulling you close again.
his hands went straight back to your ass cheeks, but this time up your skirt. “rafeee…” you whine, letting out a moan as he toys with your ass, knowing that was a weakness of yours.
“shh… let me make you feel good, baby” he whispers in your ear, leaning his head down to your neck to kiss it. you trust him, letting him feel around with your body before slipping his hand down the front of your skirt and playing with your pussy, making you moan.
after kissing and touching each other for a little, you both move over to the side of the court where there is a seating area. without hesitation, he spins you around and bends you over the seat. you giggle at his sudden movements, feeling as he slips his hand up your skirt again, only this time to move your panties to the side.
he rubs your pussy a bit, “mhm’ so wet for me” he says, making you moan a bit louder when he slips two fingers in you. your own hand covers your mouth, while the other kept you held up. “now, now, don’t make them hear you” rafe lets out a laugh as a huff through his nose, and you put your head down in embarrassment.
“mmm” you hum at the feeling of his fingers sliding in and out of you. “that’s it, baby, you like that?” he asks, smirking and loving the sound of your wet pussy. “y-yes… god” you shut your eyes and leave your mouth agape. if his fingers were enough to please you, how does his cock feel?
“you want my dick, princess? hm?” he asks, softly raising the pitch in his voice. “mhm.. please” you nod, making his smirk grow bigger though you can’t see his face.
“you wanna take me like this, from behind?” he asks, seeing you nod again. “atta’ girl” he pulls his fingers out of you, slapping your ass and making you jolt before he begins pulling his shorts down a bit, allowing his long, hard dick to spring out.
he moves more forward, rubbing his tip along your wet folds, making you let out a long hum. “i need it…” you say after he teases your pussy for a while. “you need it?” he asks. “yeah, please..” you beg.
he wastes no time to fulfil your needs. he positions himself near your entrance, slightly pushing the tip in before grabbing your hips with both hands, pulling you back whilst thrusting forward, making him instantly slam into you. you cover your mouth again, squeezing it this time. you couldn’t stay quiet, not with rafe inside of you.
“stay quiet, doll, y’don’t wanna get caught, do you?” he asks, knowing the obvious answer. “fuck… i- i can’t…” you moan underneath your hand, but it wasn’t quiet enough. rafe takes over, nudging your hand out the way to grip your mouth for you.
his grip was hard, but it was making a difference. your moans are muffled, only being able to breathe through your nose now. you grab his hand with yours, holding onto it as he fucks you rough.
the odd few sounds of cars driving past, windows slamming and dogs barking caught you off guard. “relax, doll” he tells you, shushing you as he removes his hand from your mouth to grab a fistful of your hair instead. you moan, covering your mouth with your hand again. you seriously didn’t want your parents to hear you, but boy, was rafe making it so difficult.
“fuck… i love you, pretty girl” he lets out a moan, gripping your hair tighter as he thrusts deeper into you. “i… i love you more—” you struggle to say in between deep breaths caused by his pace. “impossible.” he chuckles, showing his perfect teeth as he pounds into you from behind.
you let out some muffled moans underneath your hand, making rafe smirk and admire how he has you acting. reaching your hand down the front of your skirt to rub your clit made rafe harder than he already was. he loves it so much when you touch yourself in front of him.
“fuck, that’s it, princess… rub your pussy f’me,” he moans, thrusting into you at a perfect pace to hear your mumbled but pornographic moans. “mhmmm..” you hum, rubbing your clit at a fast speed.
he keeps fucking into you, hard and fast, both of you getting sloppier and wetter by the minute. “fuck rafe… i— i feel so close” you close your eyes, roughly gripping onto the seat you’re bent over.
“fuckk, let it go, princess” he tells you, rolling his eyes into the back of his head at how amazing you feel. “i… i am” you moan, your body starting to shake as you come on his cock. he keeps going, thrusting back and forth, in and out of you, feeling and seeing your juices leak out from the sides of his length inside you.
just seconds later, he finishes too, right inside of you. luckily, you’re on birth control. you both ride out your highs for a few moments, before he slowly pulls out of you. “fuck, ‘ts a little messy” he laughs, watching as his cum leaks out of your pussy and down your thigh.
“rafe, help” you quietly laugh, staying bent over the chair as he quickly looks for something to wipe you with. there’s nothing around, so he takes his shirt off and wipes your dripping pussy with it, “rafe, is that your shirt?” you ask, turning to look over your shoulder.
“it was the only thing i could use, alright?” he laughs it off, wiping away the cum that was dripping down your legs. after quickly cleaning yourselves up, with rafe’s shirt, unfortunately, you both head back inside to change into your normal clothes and out of your tennis ones.
walking into the house hand in hand with rafe, you walk past your mom and dad in the kitchen. “have fun playing tennis?” your mom asks with a smile as she prepares dinner. “yeah, i won” you turn around and giggle as your parents laugh, watching you flick your hair to show off. “yeah, yeah, i’ll practice more. you gotta’ teach me some time, mrs y/l/n.” he says to your mom as you both walk up the stairs. “of course, sweetheart” your mom smiles.
“aww, if only she knew how much of a slut you were… for me, not tennis.” he whispers in your ear as you get to the top of the stairs, both laughing as you enter your bedroom together.
Tumblr media
SMUT SMUT SMUTTTTTT😩😩😩 3rd piece of work uploaded in ONE DAY? go me hahahahah. HOPE YA ENJOY I LOVE YALLLLLL <33 NOT PROOFREAD BTW. I’M IN A RUSH I GTG
@cameronluvr
506 notes · View notes
imaluckygirl · 2 days
Text
⭑ tastes better because of you
( enhypen reaction )
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
synopsis: why does his orders always tastes better? — where you ask or get them to switch drinks/food after tasting his ; because his orders are always better.
( 엔하이픈 ) - hyungline!fem.reader ( maknae ver. ) ; fluff & some domestic content
୨ৎ back to the bookshelf . . .
note: hi . . . me after disappearing and appearing all of a sudden hehe ,, didn’t really checked this one ( just took a quick look as i was adding some stuff ) so it might have some grammar errors ; forgive me ><
warnings : mentions of food.
Tumblr media
i can picture heeseung's brows going up, because he couldn't understand what you just said. however, the first time it happened he acted like it was completely normal.
when heeseung and you started dating for a month, he decided to celebrate his free time with you, asking you to go out with him to a cafeteria, get a coffee, kiss, hug, hold hands and take pictures. that was the plan. heeseung was a frequent costumer at that cafeteria, so when he walked in with you, he already knew what he wanted to order — even receiving greetings from the workers ( and not gonna lie, you got a little bit jealous back then ). “yeah, and for her is... what do you want to order baby?” your boyfriend whispered at you while he gazed at you looking at the coffee options. pouting at some options, you finally decided what you wanted to order. he then proceeded to finish the order and respectfully thanked the cashier, holding your hands once again after you thanked the cashier as after him.
waiting for his order, heeseung spent this minutes talking with you. since it has been just one month you two began to date, he was still a bit shy and hesitant, afraid that he might make you uncomfortable. when the barista called that familiar name, heeseung — still holding your hands — walked to the counter, handed the man the receipt and handed you your drink; taking a sip of his after thanking the barista with a smile.
walking out of the cafeteria, you took a sip of your drink and it was good. “what do you think?” he asked you. “it's good.” you shrugged with a smile, shyly nodding. “do you wanna to try mine?” oh, our naive boy... you remembered hearing his drink of choice and you kinda scrunched your nose, not really impressed or interested. however, when he insisted for you to try it — yelling in the middle of the street “just try it babe!” — and you took a hesitant sip, your mind was blown. “it’s so good.” your eyes were widen and your brows went up in surprise. your boyfriend chuckled, asking: “did you?” smiling widely. and then you nodded and he asked the fatidic question: “wanna switch?” “no, i’m okay...” you shyly answered, feeling your cheeks burning because of your exaggerated reaction over a drink; embarrassing yourself in front of your one month love while you enjoyed your blend boring drink.
nowadays things are completely different. a new kind of intimacy had bloomed, steps forward from puppy love to a more mature one. with that, the level of shyness was close to zero and you felt more free to talk to heeseung without blushing every single time, or feeling like you were being inconvenient. so, whenever you go out with your boyfriend and he orders something, you ask him for a bite or a sip — saying that you were saving him time. “is it good?” you asked heeseung, your mouth slight watering at the sight of his ice cream. before he could answer, you said: “can i have some?” you blinked your eyes at him, sending your puppy eyes directly to his heart. he just handed you his spoon and moved his arm closer to your hand; so you could scoop some of his ice cream, and obviously his ice cream tasted so much better. but oh well, i think he would rather sharing both ice creams than actually switching with you, still, every time you order something you don't like, heeseung is there to save you.
let's talk about jongseong now. we know that he's very caring and loves to pamper you, so you expected he would just say “sure.” and give you some of his coffee. however, when you asked your boyfriend if you could try his drink, probably he would chuckle a little, exposing his beautiful smile and playfully take a sip of his drink. “i thought you said you don't like coffee?” he cocked a brow, teasing you. “yeah, but i want to try it now.” you pouted. “you can try some of mine if you wan-” “here, try it.” he handed you the drink with a soft grin, like jongseong was mesmerised by your cuteness. — how did he get so lucky to have you for himself?
okay, let's say you didn't like the drink, what would he say? “i told you so.” or something, laughing at your scrunched nose and squinted eyes, all of that because of the strong coffee flavour; you thought you would get familiar with — at least you hoped so. but, in the other hand, if you actually liked his drink he would simply say: “let’s switch them then.” and just shrug. and, don't you dare saying no to him. if he baby likes it, his baby gets it. — couple goals...
another situation that this can happen is when he’s off work and goes get you take-out like you were craving the whole week. i mean, he cooks for you, but sometimes you just want a greasy industrial food; and not a homemade soup or something. and honestly, if you are feeling guilty about it, brush this feeling away, jongseong is just like you: he has these times where he just don’t want to cook, but he DENIES to see you in the kitchen. you still don’t know if this was an excuse to make him feel better for not feeding you 'real' food or if he was honestly scared to see you making a mess at the kitchen and accidently blowing up the house...
alright, let me get straight to the point! he text you saying that he was going home. once he walked in the living room, he was met with the cutest scene — you wearing your cozy pyjamas with your fringe slipped back by the pink headband you bought last time he went at daiso with you. “you look so cute.” and when you saw him your body jumped, surprised by him and embarrassed. “h-hi...”
“did you like it?” your boyfriend asked if you liked the burger you ordered. “yeah...” feeling your unsure and disappointed tone he smirked. “want to try mine?” and when you slowly nodded and pursed your lips, getting closer to him across the table and hesitantly taking a bite of his burger, jongseong could tell your eyes shined. “good?” he asked while you sat back on your chair, enjoying the savory burger. this time you instantly nodded, making your boyfriend smile. “here.” and surprisingly he had ordered another one, just for you because he knows you so well. although he bought you a brand new one, you insisted that you preferred the one he was eating because it tasted somehow kinda different — even though it was the same burger, it wasn’t the same flavour.
i can imagine how long it would take for jaeyun get your hints that you didn’t like your drink/food that much and wanted to try his. you remember the scene of both of you just sitting on a park bench, and keep in mind that this encounter was in the very beginning of his relationship with you. i mean, jaeyun is not dumb because let’s be real, back then his favorite subject was physics and math; numbers, letters and all of that math things we’ll never use in our daily life. anyway, you got my point. however, even though you knew jaeyun since middle school, when you started dating him you really thought he was kinda dumb, when he actually was just too focused on you. for an example, one day you were holding hands with him and when you were about to cross the street, jaeyun almost got ran over by a car. don’t even ask me how this happened, it just happened.
okay, let’s continue: as you sat on the bench by your boyfriend’s side, and you were clearly NOT enjoying your drink and trying to give him hints by making a disgusted face after taking a sip of your drink while replying to one of his random questions. you couldn’t tell if he was ignoring your hints or actually not realising. you preferred to believe he wasn’t getting them. nowadays you would probably distinguish in a second and tell him what you want right away; and jaeyun is less stupid because he matured and became an adult. “baby,” he called you with a frow, and your eyes shined, thinking he finally realised. “what if we moved together in the future and get a dog?” you sigh, but still replied him calmly.
after a few minutes taking small sips of your drink, you got the courage to ask your boyfriend if you could have some of his drink. “of course baby!” he would flash his head at you the second you call him, moving his focus from the little boy petting his dog’s head and handing you the drink with a sweet smile. you smiled back, taking a sip of his drink and damn he’s drink of choice was MUCH better. actually, you found out later that it was the same coffee but he added something different ( like an extra ) and that little something changed the entire drink’s flavour. of course he knew what was better, you remember how much you’ve seen that coffee’s shop logo back in high school.
“did you like your drink?” he would ask you after you took a long sip from his drink. “yeah, it’s okay...” when he saw how your lips pouted and you shrugged; speaking in a low tone voice, he asked you softly: “did you like mine better?” and when you nodded he smiled. “okay, give me yours and you can have mine.” you definitely wasn’t expecting your boyfriend to kiss your cheeks and lips after taking your ordered drink out of your hands. he was trying to hide a smile and hold in a giggle, ending up in some weird mouth/guttural sounds?
nowadays, as i previously mentioned, jaeyun got more mature as expected and got to know you better for a long period of time. even though you were his best friend a long time before both of you confessed to have feelings for each other in your late days of high school — close to the graduation day where he asked you. your boyfriend kept being kinda silly around you but he’s more observant. not completely because he still has that unique and authentic puppy personality you always cherished, and sometimes you can tell when he’s pretending to not get your hints just to see your cute frustrated frown and kiss that pout out of your lips, saying that he understood that you didn’t like your drink/food that much.
sunghoon would be completely silent. like, he would immediately realise you didn’t like your drink because he is more of an observant than an speaker. it’s funny how jaeyun and sunghoon contrast with each other.
usually he goes out with you, and one day he decided he wanted to book a fly to japan with you, to spend a whole month exploring tokyo, osaka, and spend time with you at the best restaurants and cute coffee shops he could find in the internet. even though, as i always say, sunghoon doesn’t show or look like an affectionate person, he is, but he loves in silence, and waits for the right time to let it show. he feels safe with this type of love/relationship, and you never showed signs of being uncomfortable with how he deals with his feelings. i think it was always a lot for him to process, but we’ll talk about those feelings in another opportunity.
in japan your boyfriend told you he knew a cute coffee shop in tokyo, and he was definitely not admitting too soon he was following a account named: ‘best of japan restaurants’ ( with an underscore between japan and restaurants ) — he also followed some of riki’s advice.
arriving at the cute coffee shop — that looked more like a chic boutique if someone passes by the place in a rush —, sunghoon had already planned everything, so there was an booked table just for both of you. right after he walked in — with your with your hand attached to his and warmed up in his coat’s pocket — hearing the sound of a bell ringing and an feminine voice exclaiming ‘WELCOME!’ in japanese; and watching an young lady approaching. — “こんにちはようこそ!テーブルは予約しましたか、それともテーブルを選びたいですか?” “sunghoon, call riki to help us…”
okay, this is a funny story so i’ll probably tell you later, but after spending a good minutes trying to explain the attendant that he had an table booked under his name, she finally gave both of you a green light. as the menu got placed onto the table by the japanese lady, you began to look for something and your boyfriend seemed to do the same as you, but asking: “what did you liked in the menu pretty?” and you would blush. when you told him what you wanted and he struggled once again to order in japanese, a few minutes later your drinks and pastries arrived. “looks good.” sunghoon hummed and took a sip of his drink, waiting for you reaction after trying yours. and when you smacked your lips twice he knew you didn’t liked it.
with that information, he looked at you and sighed, switching the drinks and proceeding to take a sip of your order. “it’s good, keep this one,” he pointed to his order. “i like this one better.” and you pout, but still tries really hard to hold in a big smile — even though he can still see your cheeks getting red.
and he did this every time since then, already being able to tell if you liked something or did not. — and that counts at social events too.
Tumblr media
extra note: maybe i should post an sunghoon headcanon about this trip to japan + a ot7 enhypen scenario/thoughts — what do you guys think?
Tumblr media
© imaluckygirl , originals .ᐟ 24.
taglist: @jakesangel . . . ( wanna join? send me an ask ! )
256 notes · View notes
engstlersslut · 18 hours
Text
Take It Out On Me│ E. Engstler
pairing: emily engstler x reader genre: fluff, smut warnings: 18+ material word count: 1.8k summary: with the stress of the season weighing on her, emily has been in a mood and you let her take her frustration out on you
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
✦•〰〰〰〰〰〰•★•〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦
Tumblr media
With back-to-back losses for the Mystics and the lack of playing time, to say Emily had been frustrated would be an understatement. She'd come home from practice every day, exhausted and even more moody than the day before. Slamming cabinets and doors, sluggishly moving through her evening routines, being short during conversations, setting things down with more force than necessary. It was evident in her actions and every breath she took. Nothing you said or could say seemed to improve her mood. At a loss, you tried to just give her some space, but when that didn't seem to help either, you decided to try and talk to her about it again.
"Em?" You spoke softly from where you were cuddled into her side on the couch. "Are you okay?"
She had been quiet since she returned home from another long day of practice. Dinner was eaten in a tense silence and after that, you both settled in the living room to watch TV before bed, still not speaking much.
"I'm fine, babe." She responded, trying to hold back a heavy sigh and failing.
"Are you sure?" You pried gently, attempting to coax her into letting you in on her feelings.
"Yes. Now could you stop asking and just watch the show?" She snapped at you, causing you to release a sigh of your own.
"I'm sorry." She apologized, shaking her head and adjusting her position to lean forward, elbows resting on her knees. "I didn't mean to snap at you like that."
"It's fine."
"It's not fine." She argued. "You didn't deserve that."
"You're frustrated. I get it." You empathized, running a gentle hand down her back. "I just want you to talk to me."
"I'm just frustrated as hell." She huffed. "We've lost every game so far and I'm busting my ass every day at practice only to be a benchwarmer. I'm trying to be a supportive teammate, and I really am proud of the hard work everyone is putting in despite all of the setbacks, but it sucks."
"I know." You nodded.
"I'm trying my best to stay level-headed, but I just have so much pent-up stress and I need to blow off some steam. I just don't know how."
"Take it out on me, then."
"What?" She turned her head to look back at you where you rested against the couch.
"Take it out on me. Use me to let out some of that stress and frustration." You shrugged as if it was no big deal, which to you it wasn't.
"How?"
"How do you think?" You gave your best seductive smirk as you stood from the couch and stripped off your shirt. Tossing it at your dumbfounded girlfriend, you began to slowly step backwards towards the direction of your shared bedroom. "Only if you're up for it."
"Don't start something you can't handle." She spoke, the look in her eyes darkening as she, too, stood from where she sat.
"Who says I can't?" You cocked your head in challenge, a teasing glint in your eyes as she stepped closer.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" She asked as you now stood chest-to-chest. One of her tattooed hands trailed up to wrap around your neck, applying light pressure. "Because I can't promise I'll be gentle."
"Do your worst."
Those three words were all she needed to hear before her lips crashed down on yours eliciting a breathy moan from you. Her tongue immediately found its way into your mouth at the given opportunity, initiating a battle for dominance, which she easily won. After a few moments of roughly, yet passionately, making out, she pulled away.
"Go to the bedroom and strip." She whispered, lips brushing yours as she spoke. "I want you on the bed and naked when I get in there." Nodding, you pulled out of her embrace and turned to make your way to the room.
You weren't sure how long you waited in anticipation, but it felt like ages before she finally appeared, a cup of water in hand. Her eyes held a predatory gaze as she made her way around to her side of the bed, keeping her eyes on you as she placed the cup on the nightstand. Without a word, she turned around, finally breaking the intense eye contact, and disappeared again. She quickly emerged from your walk-in closet holding a black box. Setting it to the side, she grabbed your ankles and pulled you to the end of the bed.
"Fuck," She let out breathlessly as she dropped to her knees at the foot of the bed, examining the wetness between your thighs. "The things you do to me."
You let out a quiet gasp as she ran her thumb along your slit gently, collecting some of your arousal before putting her thumb in her mouth and releasing moan at the taste.
"Look at how wet you are, baby." She said as she swiped her index finger through your folds and raised it to show you.
Grabbing her hand, you brought it to your mouth to taste yourself. You held her gaze as you sucked on her finger, moaning as you did so. With a low groan rising from her throat, she yanked her hand away and moved to throw your legs over her shoulders. With a death grip on your thighs, she dove in, devouring you.
Her pace was fast and sloppy but so, so good. Her tongue teased your entrance while her nose nudged your clit. She had you seeing stars in no time. She'd barely started yet you were already teetering on the edge of your first orgasm of the night. Moving her mouth back up to suck on your swollen clit, she lifted her hand and sunk two of her long fingers in without any warning. The loud moan you let out had her smirking against you.
"That's it, baby." She cooed up at you. "Be loud for me. Let everyone know how good I make you feel." Her words encouraged another loud moan from you. "Good girl."
"I-I'm close, Em." You panted through your moans, back arching off the bed. "Please don't stop."
She didn't say anything in response but she didn't need to. Her actions said it all when she fastened her pace, bending and twisting her fingers, effortlessly finding that soft, spongy spot inside of you that sent you over the edge. Hand flying down to hold her head in place as she sucked your clit back into her mouth, you let out a sound that bordered on a scream as the bubble that had formed in you finally burst. She slowed her pace to help you ride out your high before finally coming to a stop and pulling away.
You felt your body melt into the mattress as you came down, chest heaving with every deep breath you took. Your eyes drifted to Emily as you lay there, body already spent, watching as she finally stripped down out of her own clothes.
"Like what you see, ma?" She smirked at you with a wink, grabbing the black box she had set aside.
"Always." You smiled back at her flirty remark, watching her movements intently as she pulled out her strap and vibrator.
"What's your color?" She asked as inserted her vibrator and put on the strap.
"Green." You replied.
"Good."
Climbing onto the bed and settling between your thighs, she leaned forward to connect her lips with yours. Distracting you with a fierce and passionate kiss, she turned on the vibrator and slowly sank into you. As the last inch pushed in, you broke the kiss and threw your head back against the pillows. With the combination of the vibrations and the fullness that you felt, you were already reeling from the pleasure.
You moaned in unison as she began to thrust into you, pace quickly turning brutal. Leaning down until her chest met yours, she attached her lips to yours again before making her way down. She stopped once her lips met your neck, biting, kissing, and sucking, surely leaving marks.
"Baby," You moaned, hand tangling in her hair that was falling out of her ponytail. "I-I think I'm gonna come."
"Hold it." She ordered.
"I c-can't." You whimpered, unshed tears blurring your vision.
"Yes, you can." She grunted, hips slamming into yours harder. "Be a good girl and hold it for me. I'm almost there."
Your body writhed beneath her as you both panted and moaned at the intense feelings. Your hands scraped down her back, legs locking around her waist.
"Em, please." You begged, after a few more harsh thrusts. "I can't hold it anymore."
"Okay." She panted. "Come for me." That was all she needed to say as you arched up into her, hands gripping her biceps. Loud moans filled the room as you both let go.
Emily pulled out soft and slow as your body fell limp against the bed. She soon joined you after removing her strap and vibrator. Your chests rose and fell in unison as you both tried to catch your breath. The room was comfortably quiet as you lay there, hands finding each other before intertwining.
After a few minutes of basking in the aftermath of the events that had taken place, Emily got up and walked into the bathroom that was connected to your bedroom. You could hear her moving around and then the sound of water running. After about ten minutes, she returned and scooped you up into her arms.
"What are you doing?" You asked head resting on her shoulder.
"I drew us a bath."
She set you down in the warm water before climbing in behind you and pulling your back to rest against her chest. Her hands ran through your hair gently and as she relaxed with you in her arms.
"Was I too rough?" She asked, a content sigh leaving her lips and the remaining tenseness in her muscles melted away.
"No," You replied. "You were perfect." She hummed in response.
"Thank you." She spoke softly, eyes shut and head leaned back to rest of the edge of the bathtub.
"For what?"
"For supporting me. For always finding ways to make me feel better. For loving me."
"You don't have to thank me for any of those things, babe." You shook your head as best as you could with her hands still tangled in your hair. "That's what I'm here for. I would do absolutely anything for you, whether you asked me to or not."
"I know, but I feel like I don't express my gratitude enough. You put up with a lot from me and I am beyond grateful for you." She leaned down, peppering kisses along your neck and shoulders. "I really got lucky with you."
"I think I'm the lucky one here." You smiled at her loving words and gestures. "You are an amazing human being and an even more amazing girlfriend. I love you so much it hurts."
"Well, I love you more." She nipped at your ear playfully.
"Doubtful." You replied.
"Is that a challenge?" She chuckled as she flicked water at the side of your face. "If so, I'm prepared to win."
"I wouldn't expect any less." You giggled at her antics.
"Good." She smiled before crashing her lips onto yours.
✦•〰〰〰〰〰〰•★•〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦
a/n: this is my longest fic yet. also, it's my first time writing smut EVER (or at least attempting to), so bear with me.
230 notes · View notes
lavenderspence · 1 day
Text
To Lean On You | Spencer Reid
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fam!reader
Content Warning: post prison!Spencer, mentions of addiction, prison talk (typical for the prison arc), gun use, mentions of death, suggestive themes, idiots in love, angst, so much angst.
Word Count: 8.6K
Summary: You and Spencer wasted years, truths hidden, feelings uncertain, and a fear of the unrequited. It took ten weeks, isolated, silent, and broken, for the realization to strike. There was no life, if you didn’t have each other. 
A/N: It’s finally here! Wow, writing this was a wild ride, honestly. Over a month of writing, blood, sweat, and tears poured over it (there were in fact some tears). This is also the first thing I’ve written in 3 years and I'm very happy to finally be out of my slump. It's probably the angstiest thing I've written ever, and at the same time, I feel like it's not the greatest, but deep down, I still love it, haha. Let me know if I've missed any warnings. And, enjoy and any feedback is appreciated. <3
Here are some of the songs I listened to while writing this if you want to get into the mood:
Hearts by Jessie Ware
The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived by Taylor Swift
Lost Without You by Freya Ridings
In This Shirt by The Irresponssibles
Tumblr media
79 days, 3 hours, and 27 minutes - that’s how long it’s been since he got arrested in Mexico.
70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes since you saw him being pulled out of the courtroom after he was deemed a flight risk and denied bail. 70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes have passed since you last saw him.
65 days, 7 hours, and 11 minutes, since he was transferred to Millburn Correctional Facility, and this whole nightmare, had started. 
Per Penelope’s carefully crafted schedule, every team member has made numerous trips to visit Spencer - every member except you. You’d only made one trip out, and that had been 3 days after he’d been transferred.
March 4th, 2017
It’s been 8 days since you saw him led in cuffs out of that courtroom, where Penelope had broken down in Luke’s arms, everyone too shocked to make a sound. He’d looked back, his eyes meeting yours briefly, and it had been as if you’d almost seen your reflection in the mirror, every emotion had run between you both in a matter of seconds. 
Shock, you’d almost been sure they would grant bail, and you’d be able to take him home. Almost. 
Fear, for his future and his well-being. Fear of the uncertain. 
Desperation, the desire to run to him and take him into your arms, finally, and to not let go. 
Except you’d held his gaze for as long as you could before you’d looked down and turned your head to save him from seeing you break down in tears. You’d made a hasty escape after that, not sparing any of your teammates a glance, and walked out of the courthouse, stopping by a tree outside. The urge to curl up into a ball and hide, pretending none of this had happened, was strong, and then a hand wrapped around your shoulder. You had turned around, only to see Rossi and one of his sad little smiles, the ones you rarely saw.
“It’s going to be okay,” he’d said, squeezing your shoulder. ”The kid is strong.”
You’d sniffled, trying to hide the tears in your voice. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I am," you’d whispered in despair. 
You were better than you had been 8 days ago, calmer. Although still heartbroken, you were looking forward to seeing him, seeing with your eyes that he was okay. Garcia had seen him, 2 days ago, before you’d been sent out on a case.  
“He looks good. I mean, as good as that big genius brain of his can look in prison. His eyes were sad though, really, really sad.” She’d paused as if to assure herself it would be alright, “I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you, sweetness.” She’d squeezed your hand, but her statement hadn’t rung true. 
Your hands were shaking, you weren’t sure what from. The anticipation you’d felt? The nerves? Or the words you had a hard time coming to terms with.
“I’m sorry, but your name isn’t on Spencer Reid’s approved visitor list,” the guard at the checkpoint had said after rechecking the list. 
“There has to be a mistake, I made an appointment,” you insisted, feeling yourself unravel. It wasn’t possible, you knew for a fact you were on that list, Emily had made sure of that.
“Look, lady. There are only 10 names on that list, and yours is not one of them. Now, you need to move, because there are people here waiting to see their loved ones.” you’d hiccuped and turned around, walking to the lockers to unlock your gun, badge, and phone. 
“I’m here to see a loved one.” You’d wanted to scream, but you knew it would have been futile. There wasn’t anything you could do at that moment. 
You walked to your car, dialing Emily’s number, “This is Prentiss.”  
For a second, only your breathing could be heard over the sound of the wind, and then a tiny sniffle. You wiped at your eyes and nose, and then spoke up, barely, “Why am I not on Spencer’s approved visitor list?” 
“What do you mean? Every member of this team is on the list. So is his lawyer and Diana, even Derek,” you could hear the surprise in her voice, yet you couldn’t keep calm any longer.
"They refused to let me see him! I made the appointment, Emily, and I came, hoping I’d finally see him hear his voice, and ask him-” Your voice broke mid-sentence, and after taking a deep breath, you continued, “Ask him if he was okay, and I was denied because out of the 10 names on that list, it seems mine’s not one of them.” You finished defeated, barely above a whisper.
All was silent for the moment, save for what you could hear was Penelope’s voice on the other end of the line, quietly asking what was going on, “Let me call Fiona and the warden, and I’ll see what happened. Meanwhile, I need you back here, because we just got a case.” Her voice wasn’t leaving anything up for discussion. Still, you couldn’t go, not until you saw him. 
“Emily-” she cut you off.
“It’s not a discussion. I’ll resolve this, but I need you here and your head in the game. Am I clear?” Her voice was stern, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed. Maybe.
“Yeah, clear. I’m on my way back.” You took a deep breath and started the car and the journey back to Quantico, but your mind stayed right there, on the bars that kept you away from the one thing you held dearest. 
As it turns out, there was nothing the warden or Fiona could do. Even Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU, couldn't “resolve” the situation. Days, weeks, and months passed, and for 70 days you couldn’t see him, isolated out, not even knowing why.
“-to be in the courthouse in one.” You snapped out of your thoughts, only catching the end of the sentence, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. You were tired, and it had little to do with the fact that you had been up all night, going over all the evidence with the team and tracing Lindsey Vaughan’s steps to a T in an attempt to exonerate Spencer and finally bring him home. 
You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. You’d been up for more than 24 hours now, but then you hadn’t been sleeping all that well to begin with. Every single night was spent wondering how Spencer was doing, and every time you closed your eyes, you saw him in that cell in Mexico. 
His eyes were red, high out of his mind, barely coherent, dirty, and injured - a far cry from the person you were used to seeing every single day - energetic, passionate, and brilliant. After 12 years, if there was one image you wished to erase from your memory, it was this one. Not all the blood you’ve seen spilled, every victim, be it men, women, or even children, all the horrors of the job, but this. Maybe it made you a bad person, but there was nothing worse than seeing the one person you held dearest at their lowest and not being able to do anything to stop it.
Every waking hour that you weren’t on the job was spent wondering how he was doing and if he was okay. If he was healthy, unharmed, and safe, or as safe as an FBI agent could be in prison. But most of all, the one thing that had kept you up at night, slowly destroying your sanity and making you question everything, had been the one question you couldn’t seem to get an answer to. 
“Why doesn’t he want to see me?”
You’d asked everyone and had waited with battered breath for an answer, a clarification on the matter, and it never came. As shocked as you had been at the notion that you wouldn’t be seeing Spencer for an indefinite amount of time, your team had been even more shocked. They knew the kind of relationship you and Spencer had, how close you’d become over the years, and how much you relied on each other. 
You’d asked every team member, you’d asked yourself, you’d even asked Spencer in a few of the letters you wrote to him, and then there had come a point where you just stopped. 
You were torturing yourself more than enough, day after day, and every single night, asking yourself a question you wouldn’t get an answer to. Not as long as he was locked up in that hellhole and you were out here, trying to keep together the pieces of something, that was on the verge of breaking. 
You felt a hand taking hold of yours, and for a second, you tensed up. Pulled out of your thoughts, you looked up and were met with chocolate brown eyes, full of worry - Emily’s eyes. 
You glanced around the room, only to realize it was empty, save for the two of you. You hadn’t felt when the others had left, that’s how deep in thought you had been. 
“Where did you go? I’ve been calling your name for a while now,” she spoke gently, squeezing your hand. If you were honest, that’s the first time she asked you anything about the situation. You’d spent weeks suffering in silence and trying to pretend that you weren’t slowly dying on the inside. 
You briefly thought about lying, it wouldn’t be the first lie you’d told since Spencer had been incarcerated, but you didn’t have it in you to hide anymore. 
And so, for the first time since Spencer’s hearing, you told the truth.
“Nothing makes sense anymore, Em,” it left you in a whisper, “I’m barely holding it together. I feel like I’m drowning sometimes, and just when I breach the surface, I’m pulled back in. My mind, it’s...I question everything, all the time. My mornings start with thoughts about him, and my nights end with tears over him, over this entire…this nightmare. I keep waiting for my alarm to go off, to wake up and realize that this has been a plot of my imagination, some cruel joke my mind has conjured, designed to show me... "Your eyes welled with tears, prepared to admit something you should have long ago. Emily gave your hand another squeeze, prompting you to continue, and so you did, admitting it for the first time aloud. 
“Designed to show me that I can’t live a life that doesn’t have Spencer in it.” You wiped at your eyes, willing your tears at bay. When you dared to look up, you were met with the eyes of the only other person besides Spencer who has been a constant rock in your life for the last 11 years. What you saw in her eyes then wasn’t surprise like you’d thought, but relief. It took you a moment to fully read her, but it was like a switch had gone off when you finally did. 
“But you’re not surprised to hear this, are you?” you smiled sadly, a light laugh leaving you. 
“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t have my suspicions, and I’d be an even worse profiler,” she smiled at you, “Plus, there are some feelings that you just can’t hide,” you blinked, and then you blinked again. You hadn’t come right out and said it, and yet she knew, she somehow knew. 
“I didn’t mean it like that.” you tried to backtrack, but you knew it was a losing battle. Emily knew you well enough to smell your bullshit from miles.
“That’s exactly how you meant it, and don’t even try to deny it. I see it every damn day. It’s how you leave the room whenever you hear someone talk about visiting Spencer. You don’t want to hear how he’s doing because you wouldn’t believe it, not unless you see him with your own eyes. But you can’t, so you’ve resigned yourself to the torture of not knowing instead of giving yourself the smallest amount of peace by asking. You’ve been suffering in silence for almost three months, too stubborn to say anything, thinking you were doing yourself a favor. And what for? You’re crying yourself to sleep every night and coming to work the next morning, pretending everything is fine when clearly it’s not. You think you’re fooling everyone, but the only person you’re tricking is yourself. And how’s that working out for you?” she had a point, and it’s not like you weren’t aware of that fact. You knew what you were doing wasn’t okay or healthy. You had the most stable support system imaginable to get you through the hardest parts. It was hard, though, especially when the person who was suffering the most was the person who’d taken your heart with him. 
“Way to call me out, boss.” you were just about ready to end the conversation, you couldn’t take any more of this. You’d promised each other long ago that you wouldn’t profile each other but you had a feeling that was exactly what Emily was doing right now. Maybe not on purpose, and with every good intention imaginable, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want one of your best friends to try to understand you based on behavioral analysis right after you’d spilled your soul out to her. 
“Just calling it the way I see it, someone has to,” she smiled, but then she shook her head a little before continuing. “What I want to know is why you didn’t say something earlier. You know I would have been there to listen, and so would have the team.” Damn, Emily Prentiss.
You didn’t have to think hard about it, you’ve been ruminating over everything for days. You were trying not to, but whenever your mind wasn’t focused on a case or the many drinking nights spent in Penelope’s purple adobe, that was where your mind would take you.
“Out of fear, I think,” you started, unsure for a second, still nervous to admit it. It wasn’t exactly what she was asking, but it was a start, “I was afraid, and I still am. I’ve been baiting myself into thinking it was just some sort of fondness, a little stronger than that which you feel towards a friend, and far lesser than what it actually is. I thought that if I didn’t say anything, I could go on lying to myself, and nothing would have to change, we wouldn’t have to change. Because words hold meaning, and an admission like that holds weight. What would I have done if it was just me who felt like this? I would have ruined the one thing we’ve both cherished for over a decade.” It felt good to finally say all of this out loud instead of holding it inward. But then again, Emily always knew when you'd had enough. 
She’d told you time and time again the same thing Hotch had asked of her when she returned to duty after faking her death: “Let me know when you are having a bad day.”. Honestly, you’d held off long enough, and so had she. It was a whole miracle she hadn’t pressed you about your behavior earlier. 
“That’s not what I was asking,” you said, shaking your head with a smile to let her know that you weren’t done speaking. 
“Everyone was suffering as a result of what happened in Mexico, what I was feeling wasn’t any different, Emily.” You were flippant about it, you always have been. You preferred isolating yourself and hiding everything instead of seeking a shoulder to bear the weight of what you felt. 
“Our sadness came from the fact that our friend was framed. And yours? That’s different.” 
“It isn’t,” she scoffed, getting up. Now you really felt like you were about to get scolded like a child.
“Yes, it is. God, you and Spencer are the same. It’s like I’m looking at his doppelganger without the whole… IQ of 187. You share some of the worst qualities a person can have,” you laughed at that, “You are both changeophobes-” you cut her off
“Metathesiophobia, fear of change.” She only raised her hand at you, as if to say, “See, you even sound like him,” which made you laugh even more. 
“You close yourselves off after a sad or traumatic experience, silently hoping you’d be able to get through the worst of it on your own. Most of the time, it’s evident that’s not the case. You only ask for help when you’ve reached rock bottom or have no other choice, but you’ve had a choice from the get-go. Your stubbornness even stems from the same anxieties, it’s infuriating,” she seemed to calm down then, in defeat maybe, or she hadn’t been mad, to begin with, she sat down again. 
“My point is, it shouldn’t have taken you learning that he might be coming home today to tell me all of this. I’ve known for a long time that there was something far more than platonic friendship on your end. You shouldn’t have tortured yourself since his trial to try to put the puzzle pieces together. You aren’t late, you have all the time in the world to say what you feel and what you want, and rejection shouldn’t be a factor, believe me. You need to make peace with that fear because Spencer is coming home today. And whether you are ready or not, you both need to have a serious conversation.” You appreciated her determination about Spencer being released, but then again, you had more than circumstantial evidence to support the fact that he was innocent. But, as always, Emily was right. He was coming home today, and after months of not seeing each other, there were a lot of things you needed to say. 
“I know. Thank you, Emily, for everything,” you whispered, squeezing her tight. 
Spencer’s POV
The first breath of fresh air after being on the inside for months felt far more overwhelming than he thought it would be. Being in charge of your being and your responses and emotions felt almost unnatural like the feeling of it didn’t belong to him. The sound of the wind and the traffic, people’s voices, and even the simple act of getting comfortable in the leather seats of the jet overwhelmed any ability to concentrate and think straight. 
In itself, it was strange. The prison was loud, the prison commissary at breakfast, lunch, and dinner was a cacophony of prisoners talking, cells being opened, and guards barking orders. The yard was loud too, although, in the middle of nowhere, nature could still be heard - the sounds of trees and the lone birds, if he had to guess a mix of Mourning Dove and Field Sparrow. Their songs were soothing most of the time, a welcome distraction from the usual noises around him. 
Without the atmosphere he’d gotten used to and subjected to all of those sounds and people whose presence he found comforting before, he now felt almost out of place. He wanted to feel at peace, he wanted to feel free, and although he technically was, his mind was more trapped than he’d actually been in that 2 by 2 cell in cellblock C.
He kept replaying some of the hardest moments from his time in, every threat, every punch he’d gotten, and the phantom feel of the fists connecting. Luis’ blood on his hands, the smell of bleach incorporated with the drugs, the tip of the sharpened toothbrush embedding into his thigh. All he’d done to survive, harm, and more harm, only to make it out alive. 
He barely recognized himself. He’d deliberately ignored looking at himself in the small plastic mirror in his cell, for fear of seeing what he’d had to become. Gone was the Spencer who’d use his brain to get out of situations, whose obliviousness more often than not helped to balance his intellect with the socially acceptable. Gone was the bubbly personality of a kid excited to share a plethora of facts with his friends. 
In his place sat a man, tormented by the reality of the hatred felt towards him. The reality of being a pawn in a game whose complexity could have been his downfall. A man whose genius, as much of a blessing, could sometimes be a curse. A man who had felt too much and was made to experience far more loss than his quaint heart was able to take. In the end, he kept losing, be it his father, by no choice of his own. His mentor, at the hands of a killer’s insanity. His friends and loved ones, hoping for a better life or his freedom, made to rot in a place he didn’t deserve to be in. 
Some would doubt that he had anything at all left to lose. All in all, how much more could the scrawny twelve-year-old child prodigy, left to survive in a public high school, take? 
His mind had been plagued by that question for years. He’d thought about that more than he’d like to admit. After every loss, there’d been a split moment where he’d asked himself what was next. What would be the next thing life would take from him? And every time, he’d had to wonder if, next time, life wouldn’t reach for the one thing he couldn’t allow to be taken from him. The one thing that, were he to lose, he’d never recover. He had hoped, sometimes prayed, that after everything he’d seen, everything he’d lived through, this would be the one thing that’d be spared. 
Locked in that cage, he’d tried even harder to ensure that there wouldn’t be another loss in his life - not anymore. Be it good or bad, he’d done everything. For 70 days, he’d had to assure himself he was doing what he thought was right, and what he wasn’t saying, he’d be forgiven for. He’d had to dodge questions and see the disappointment in his friend’s eyes, and when that wasn’t enough of a burden to bring all of his anxieties to the surface, he’d resigned himself to reading the words of the person he was doing all of this for - you. 
He’d reread every letter to the point where the edges of the papers were worn out, even though he’d known the contents by heart on the first read. He tortured himself by looking at your handwriting, analyzing the slanting of the words and the pressure of the pen. The little stains on the paper, he didn’t have to be a genius to know, were your tears. It broke his heart, to know he was causing you this much pain. He didn’t need to be there to see it, he felt it through your words.
He often questioned if it was worth it, if he was protecting you, or himself, or maybe even what you were or weren’t.
Even now, the weight of your words sat heavily on his mind, and right by his heart, in the pocket of his jacket, he felt the weight of the 9 letters you wrote. 
As he looked over from the little window of the jet, he couldn’t help but wonder if, in his desire to shield you from everything, he hadn’t gone too far. Ultimately, was he going to be forgiven, or be forced to pick up the pieces of the reality broken by his own doing?
“Don’t do that.” JJ’s gentle voice startled him from the overwhelming nature of his thoughts. She’d spent the last 30 minutes since they boarded silently observing him, waiting for him to pick up a conversation. But he’d decided to stay num. 
In every twitch of his fingers, in his desire to get comfortable but being unable to, she could see that he was restless. If she had to guess, his mind was much the same. 
“Do what?”
She gave him a look, one, had he not known her long enough, he might have been offended by. Clearly, she was offended herself, watching him play the clueless card. 
“Spence, I don’t need to profile you to know that your mind’s running a thousand miles a minute, contemplating your decisions, and I don’t think you should. You did what you thought was right, and no one blames you for that, not for Mexico, and not for what you did after,” she spoke evenly, gathering even Penelope and Alvez’s attention from where they sat. He looked over, receiving a smile and a nod from both before focusing on JJ again. 
Rationally, he knew she was right about everything. He didn’t need to run himself ragged with everything he could have done differently, or search for the perfect way to explain, or overall, the perfect outcome of his own decisions. He knew there wasn’t one, there was no perfect way to say what he needed to, no perfect words to pick so he could fix this and erase the pain he knew he’d caused. 
Perfection wasn’t something you could strive to achieve, because there’s no such thing as perfection. The term was diverse, everyone had a different perspective on what that might look like. If for JJ, perfection was the family that waited for her at home every time she returned from a case, for Spencer, perfection was vastly different. 
For him, perfection was the rich aroma of coffee that could cause someone’s insulin to spike because of the amount of sugar in it. The softness of a book page between his fingers, or the familiarity of a book he’d read before but needed to revisit. 
Perfection was the sound of your laugh whenever he was the one to prompt the sound. The way your eyes lit up every time you listened to him babble on. Perfection was the time he got to spend with you every day, every hour, and every minute that he could remember with almost scary accuracy. 
He could sit and wonder what the perfect way to go about this was, but there simply wasn’t one, there was only the truth. And as painful, hopeful, or even a little dumb as it was, that was the best he could give.
And maybe that’s what his mind should focus on instead, the truth, in its simplest form, at its core the truth he’d hidden for months, and then the truth he’d hidden for years. 
He had wondered long enough if he’d made the right choice. He spent plenty of time focusing on the shame he’d felt, prompted by the disappointment he’d seen in his friends’ eyes whenever they brought up your name. How he’d sit, silent, or give an answer so short and angry, it’d add even more shame to the one he already felt. 
Beyond his time in prison, where he spent most of his time questioning his decisions, he spent years before that questioning himself as a person. His place on the team, his intelligence, even his failings. His inability to form relationships where he’d be seen as more than Dr. Reid, or the skinny kid, pretty boy, or a genius. A relationship that’d make him feel like simply Spencer, without the added adjectives, that sometimes made him feel like a circus clown. 
Only when he’d been locked up, had he started to realize that he’d finally built a relationship with someone with whom he could be himself. The most basic, boring, and peaceful version of himself, and slowly, all had started falling into place. 
How content he felt whenever he was around you, the desire to tell you every good or bad news he received. How when you asked about his mother, it warmed his heart, or how worried he felt when you acted stupid in the field. How out of control he’d felt when you’d gone missing last year. Or even, at the time, the unexplained jealousy he’d felt seeing you talk with another man.
Morgan had asked, once, twice, a lot, if maybe he didn’t have a crush, but he’d denied it, every time. And every time he’d question himself, he'd dismiss the idea just as quickly. 
Yet, upon being forced away from you, the pieces had started mending into one. 
Every realization he’d had was like a new broken piece being glued to the overall mosaic. And every new piece added built everything he felt about you. And it was a lot, and it was overwhelming, and so, so right, it sometimes felt wrong. Because he was inside a prison of his own doing, and you were out there, made to wait for him, for an explanation, for the truth. 
And he’d vowed to himself that the moment he was out, he’d put everything on the table, no matter how much he’d fucked up or how much he’d hurt you. He’d sit there, and he’d let it out, and if necessary, he’d even beg for your forgiveness. 
Because there wasn’t a moment in this life, he wanted to live through, without you there with him.
Your POV
You pulled the trigger, your eyes focused, and your hands steady. Three consecutive shots were fired, each one hitting its intended target. Three more followed, and then as many as it took to empty the magazine. 
You put down the gun and took a deep breath, steadying your heartbeat, trying to rid yourself of the deep-seated anxiety you felt. An odd sense of calm overtook you whenever you found yourself at the shooting range. Maybe it was the everpresent scent of gunpowder or the quiet only disturbed by the firing of a gun. Or even the possibility of escaping your rising thoughts, the desire to run or scream, sometimes both. 
There was a sense of solitude there that almost made it easier to breathe. The repetitive motion and the weight of the gun in your hands felt like second nature. 
Front sight, trigger press, follow through, just like Hotch had taught you all those years ago. As long as you held that gun, your mind was quiet, and you focused on something other than the worry you felt. 
It made sense you found yourself there shortly after Emily had shared the long-awaited good news - Spencer was finally free, and JJ, Penelope, and Luke were on route back with him. For a short moment, you’d felt the weight being lifted from your chest, and then it dropped again, now tripled. 
Suddenly, your earlier conversation with Emily had gotten as real as the target before you. Even with the sense of peace, you’d felt after, your thoughts on the matter clear, you still felt a sense of dread at the idea of seeing him. 
As if he wasn’t your best friend, the man who’d long ago won your affection and captured your heart, but rather a stranger who held your future in his hands. And he might as well be, because whatever the truth to the questions you wanted answered was, one thing was for sure.
It’d either make or break you both.
You picked up a new magazine, and loaded the gun, aiming at the target before releasing the safety. Before you fired again, you released a breath, and with it, all the feelings within you - fear, uncertainty, yearning, and the sense of madness, which, although mild, was persistent.
You fired once, twice, your aim impeccable, and then, out of nowhere, you missed. 
The hair at the back of your neck rose, your heart rate quickened, and the feeling of another’s presence in the room was unmistakable. It took you just a second to put the pieces together, the intrusion felt like anything but that. 
Instead, for a brief moment, the person brought with them a familiar feeling of calm. In the next instance, though, reality came crashing like a tidal wave, and you knew you’d run out of time. 
Your hands shook as you put down the gun. You could feel him watching you, probably standing next to the door, as if he couldn’t will himself to move closer. The anxiety was palpable in the air, although you couldn’t really say if it was yours or his, most likely, it was a mix of both.
You went to reach for your protection but hesitated. Once you took it off, there’d no longer be an excuse for you to ignore him, you’d finally have to meet the reality he’d so carefully crafted for you.
Even though you felt like you could barely breathe, the desire to finally lay your eyes on him won out. 
Without missing another beat, you took off your earplugs and then your eye protection. You could faintly hear the sound of shoes squicking against the floor. He could never stay still when he was nervous.  
You picked up on the sound of your own breathing too, the beating of your heart was almost erratic. You were waiting, what for, you weren’t sure. 
He was waiting too, for you to turn around, to lay his eyes on you. Like a sadist, waiting to see the pain he’d caused, or a masochist, wishing for his own in turn. 
70 days of slowly killing you both.
When you finally dared to turn around, it took you a moment to fully take him in. He looked like the Spencer you knew, yet there was something different about him too. Dressed in his usual suit and tie outfit, he didn’t look comfortable. His posture was rigid, almost defensive. It wasn’t a conscious decision, that much you were sure of.
His hair was longer, pushed back, curling at the ends, and he’d lost some weight. Not much, but enough to make an impression after all this time. He looked pensive, like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders, but maybe it was just the weight of the consequences he had to face.
Your eyes ran over every inch of him multiple times, intentionally avoiding his gaze for as long as possible. Seconds and minutes passed, and you weren’t really sure how much exactly. 
Spencer knew, though, of course, he did. If his fear of meeting you eye to eye was as great as yours was, you knew he was counting until the torture of the act itself was over. 
89 seconds he’d counted, although now with you there, they felt longer than the days without you did. 
When you eventually met his gaze, you felt a part of your heart chip on the inside. What people said about the eyes being a portal to one's soul couldn’t have been more right in that moment. Spencer, a man who excelled at hiding his emotions when he really wanted to, had let them out as clear as day for you to see. 
His eyes sparkled with so much sadness and guilt that it threatened to take you apart even before he had the chance to talk. Something softened within you at that moment, but in the next instance, it was like someone else took over. 
One moment you wanted to cry for him or with him, and the next you felt like your whole being needed to be let out. 
“Is that…is that all you can offer me right now? More of your silence? Don’t you think I’ve had enough of that?” The questions, a few of many to follow, had a bite to them. 
His face fell a little, taken aback by your tone. He fidgeted with his fingers, unsure what to say, or where to start. How could he answer your question? He pictured a scenario where his words flew freely, where he gave you an explanation worthy of forgiveness and a confession, so earnest that it ended with you in his arms. 
Try as he might, the words didn’t come to him, just a barely audible accusation. 
“That’s not fair.”
You scoffed, as if in outrage. A madness, one born out of so much heartbreak, took over, it was blinding. If someone had asked you to explain yourself, you’d say that wasn’t you. You’d never be so forward, almost cruel, to him, but at that moment, being mad sounded so much better than being vulnerable. Like a shield, you weren’t ready to let go of yet.
“How exactly is this not fair, Spencer? It’s the truth!” you yelled, and you felt free, finally letting it all out. “You want to know what isn’t fair, though? The way you isolated me OUT of your life! For three months, I’ve had to stand on the sidelines and beg for scraps, just to know you were okay. Every pitiful look I’d get from the people I consider family felt like another stab to the heart. That’s what’s not fair!” You were screaming so loud. It was a good thing the range was soundproof, otherwise, the whole of the BAU would have been deep in your business by now. 
If he looked surprised by the accusation, he didn’t really show it. His posture took a turn, though. The rigidity disappeared, and in turn, it opened, as if the need to comfort you overpowered the uncertainty or the mask he’d had to hold while imprisoned. 
You didn’t want his comfort, not right now. Maybe later, when all was said and done, you’d get to have a normal conversation without the frustrations of the past. At that moment, you just wanted everything out of your system. You wanted the questions, the answers, and the truth. 
His silence continued as he started closing the distance between you. You wanted to move, to create more distance, but there was nowhere to go. You were squeezed between the range, and him. Whatever else was left than to continue begging for clarity.
“It’s not fair being sent away the first time I came to see you. To learn you didn’t want to see me! Each time it was my turn to visit you, do you want to know where I was? I sat outside that fucking prison, wishing for a glimpse of the person who’s been my rock for 12 years! Holding back tears, thinking you didn’t…you didn’t care like I did. Is this what I really deserve after 12 years by your side?” You almost slipped, you almost told him, and maybe you should have, it might have prompted him to talk or to say something. But no, he stayed silent. Step after step, he limped, his cheek twitched, and his brows furrowed, but like a coward, he remained quiet. 
He was meters away from you, three more steps, and he’d completely close the distance, and meet you face to face. 
“Say something, Spencer, damn it!” Your throat burned from the strain, and he advanced even more. “Anything,” you finished in a whisper, and all of a sudden, all the fight left you, and your eyes watered and your vision went blurry. 
He was just a step away then, and when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but see how they shined. 
He reached forward, one hand taking hold of your arm while the other went to hold your waist, but you shook your head. “No, Spencer, please,” you whispered. You didn’t want to find yourself in his arms, because that would be the last of your composure, gone. You’d surrender to the feel of him like you even had a choice not to. 
He didn’t stop, not until you were snug into his arms, one of his hands at the back of your neck, holding your head tenderly, but the arm around your waist held onto you as if he was scared you’d slip away from him. 
Once in his arms, you finally let go, breaking down into pieces, hoping he’d be able to hold them all from crumbling to the ground. 
“Hey, shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He kept repeating, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your pulse point. All the while, you could only stand, your arms at your sides, as if paralyzed.
Being in his arms felt like being home somehow. It felt so right after having been deprived of the feeling for so long. It felt like there was nothing wrong, and nothing could go wrong at that moment. 
Even though you hadn't initially wanted his comfort, somewhere deep inside, you craved his tender touch. You craved the feel of his body near and the faint scent that was so uniquely him - a mix of coffee, fall, and old paper, books. You realized then that you craved the sound of his voice too, another part of him you’d been deprived of. 
The voice of the always rambling boy that never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you couldn’t understand him sometimes. 
And the more he whispered, his voice broken and shaky, the harder you cried. You’d thought nothing could match the heartbreak of his actions or the anger of his silence, but the reality of being held against him brought the realization that your suffering mirrored his own. 
If you’d been dying on the inside for months, he’d been on the other side of the link holding you tethered to each other, dying just as much. 
And you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer after that. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, and your arms finally circled his waist underneath his suit jacket, fisting the back of his shirt as if it were your one lifeline. 
You felt him exhale when you finally returned his touch, most likely in relief, before he dropped a light kiss on your head. 
You cried for the relief of having him back and close. For unspoken truths and time wasted, years of figuring out feelings clear as day. For all the anger, for all of his silence, for all you felt for him. 
He cried for all the pain he’d caused you and for all the time he’d wasted being alone instead of being with you. He cried for himself, he cried for you, and he cried, overwhelmed by his feelings for you. 
You clung to one another, crying, and minutes were passing and neither of you cared. Not when you had each other. 
After a while, when both your tears dried out and your cries quieted, but you still felt the need to hold each other close, you dared to murmur a broken “Why?” hoping he’d hear, hoping he’d understand. 
It didn’t take him long to mumble a reply, no longer silent. 
“All the words in the world available, and I wish I could explain.” it came out just as quietly, both of you scared to break the little bubble you’d found yourselves in. 
You pulled back from him, wanting to look into his eyes, red-rimmed and still sparkling when you felt yourself begging again. 
“Then try, please, because I’d rather know, and not understand, than not know at all.” And it was the truth. He could speak in riddles if he wanted, but you needed to know why he’d made that choice. 
You looked at him expectantly before he pushed a piece of hair back, and his hand once again settled at the back of your head, gently cupping it. 
“I wanted you safe from a world you didn’t belong in,” he admitted on an exhale, like a lifelong secret he’d gotten tired of holding onto. 
You looked at him in wonder, and it was on the tip of your tongue to tell him he didn’t belong in that world either, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, he shook his head. 
“I was ashamed when I had you removed from the visitor’s list. I didn’t want you to see me like that, like a criminal,” he started, pulling you into his arms, not wanting to admit it to you eye to eye, out of fear of being right. Of course, he was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from wondering. 
“The first time JJ visited me, they leered at her like they were being fed fresh meat, taking her in, committing her to memory. A cage full of animals. I knew then that I didn’t want that for you, and any guilt I had at keeping you away disappeared that day. It hurt me, knowing I was failing you and whatever trust you had in me,” he whispered, wishing to keep the reality of his thoughts and his feelings in a little bubble as if you only existed in it.
“I’m not the same person I was before, I couldn’t be him, even if it meant losing a part of myself in the process. I couldn’t really be a decent human being without bearing the consequences. Everything I saw, everything I did, and everything that was done to me, I don’t think I’d ever fully be the person I was before. And that too, I’m thankful I spared you from seeing.” It would explain his rigidity, a defense mechanism he’d had to get used to. 
And while everything he’d said thus far was true the biggest truth, he’d had yet to say. He had yet to really explain why he’d done what he’d done in the first place. He was stalling, still afraid, but the longer he held you, the longer he felt your heart beating in time with his, the more sure he became. 
To hell with the consequences, to hell with whatever happened after, he was right here in the now, alive, breathing, his arms around you, finally at peace. 
He pulled back, took your face into his hands, and finally whispered.
“Most of all, though, I knew I loved you enough to risk us if it meant keeping you safe.” It left him in a rush, a confession waiting to be let out for months. A feeling he’d had for years, and a moment where he could finally be open about it. 
“What…?” you licked your lips, shocked that you might not have heard him correctly. ”What does us mean?” This part of the conversation felt like you were daydreaming about it, it just didn’t feel real. 
“It means whatever you want it to be. Whatever you want us to be.” All of a sudden, it was that simple. 
“So, you love me?” You had a hard time taking it all in, yet your heart fluttered in pure happiness. “And you…you want us?” 
"Yes.” Even before you were done speaking, he was already answering. He was desperate to finally admit he was absolutely smitten by you. 
Months of figuring out your feelings, years of hiding them, a conversation to finally prompt a confession out of you, and all this time it was reciprocated. You could have cried, happiness like no other coursing through you, pure bliss. 
You wanted back into his arms, you wanted to kiss him so badly that your blood was burning from the need to feel him like you'd never been able to before. And yet, you knew there was something else you needed to do before you could finally do it.
“Spence, you don’t push away the people you love, no matter the cost. You rely on their love to help aid you when you’re at your lowest.” You gave his sides a light squeeze before you looked back into his eyes, only to see them hopeful and uncertain at the same time.
He looked hopeful, for the possibility that you might actually love him back, but uncertain because it felt like you might be pushing him away this time. 
“I can’t go through this again. Having to watch you wither away, in prison, at home, or by your own thoughts, I won’t be able to handle being pushed away again,” whispers, cries, pleas, memories full of heartbreak intertwined with present confessions full of joy. 
His eyes watered then, his lips trembling. Any sign of hope was gone, and in its’ place stood the realization of a man who’d maybe gone a little too far. He’d pushed you away, and now, it was your time to be the one sticking and twisting the knife deep, breaking his heart in the process. 
If someone were to ask him at that moment what his biggest regret was, he’d say this. This was his biggest regret, his own choices. 
A tear escaped him, and you reached up, wiping it away gently before you spoke again.
“If..if this is going to go anywhere, you need to rely on me. You need to believe that I can handle anything and everything, just as long as you are by my side. All those years of being pushed away - your addiction, Maeve and Gideon’s deaths, your mom’s diagnosis, Cat Adams - you weren’t alone then, you aren’t alone now, and you won’t be alone in the future. You’ll always have me by your side, you’ll always have my support. Most of all, you’ll have my love, but when things get hard, I need you to lean on me, and trust that I can help you because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together.” You finished on an exhale, full-on crying now. You could barely see him, but from the little you could, you saw tears streaming down his face, and a smile that grew wide, happy.
Those words, he knew them word for word. For 13 days, he’d repeat them, no longer needing to see them written down, he had them engraved in his brain. Your letters he could recite, but your final one he’d remember as long as he lived. 
“I promise to lean on you and trust that you’d help me because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together,” he whispered back, his eyes searching yours for just a moment before he pulled you in, and finally, his lips met yours. 
He kissed you, tentative at first, testing the waters. He wanted to take his time, commit your lips to memory, gentle, and plump, exactly how he’d imagined they’d feel. The more he kissed you, the more he couldn’t stop. Passion, urgency, desire - his kisses turned desperate like he wanted to swallow you whole and never let you go. 
He bit your lip gently, asking for access, before his tongue intertwined with yours and he pulled you flush against him, closing any gap left between you. Chest, hips, there wasn’t an inch where you weren’t touching. 
It felt so familiar, even though you hadn’t kissed before. So right, like no one's kisses had felt before. As if your whole lives, kissing each other was the missing piece in a complicated puzzle, waiting to be put together. Coming together as one, it felt magnetic, a feeling of euphoria, pure ecstasy, no one else mattered, no other feeling mattered at that moment, other than your hands on each other and your lips locked together. 
Time was passing by, and you didn’t care. Years of missed opportunities, hidden feelings, and long-awaited realizations all led to this moment. Starved for each other, a kiss full of fervor and even the taste of tears was present. Unimaginable, but very real.
When you finally pulled apart, he wiped your tears, and you wiped his in turn, before he gathered you back in the comfort of his arms, laying a kiss on the side of your head.
And between the four walls around you, nestled in each other’s arms, the place where no one could touch you, in a shared breath you both whispered. 
“I love you.” 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!
235 notes · View notes
Note
Request: The reader and ellie are friends, but the reader doesn't know if she likes girls or not, so ellie offers to let her experiment on her. Friends to lovers and mutual pining. 💓 a happy ending, preferably. Up to you whether or not to include smut!
FALLING INTO ME
Tumblr media
CW - hair pulling, mentions of past experiences with men, oral (R receiving), thigh grinding
WC - about 2k - no outbreak AU
Leave me Ellie or Abby requests x
This was wrong right? Infront of you your childhood best friend Ellie sits crossed legged on her bed. The faded plaid sheets that have replaced dinosaurs from her youth clutched in your unforgiving grasp.
"We don't have to do anything" she says barely above a whisper. Like she's afraid to even suggest it. The air is tight, hot, like someone lit a fire and let the smoke invade the room. But there's Ellie. Her hand sitting on your thigh as her thumb swipes across bare skin, the floral sleep shorts you had opteded for letting her trace over it with no barrier. Her back pressed to the headboard like it's the only thing keeping her sitting upright. "I shouldn't have said anything I'm sorry". Her hand retreats with a slight tremble.
Just ten minutes ago you were sharing a bottle of some cheap wine Ellie had got from the corner store. Giggling and reminiscing on your intertwined lives, awkward teen phases that melted into adulthood when you let it slip.
You think you might like girls.
Of course you weren't sure, you'd never done anything with a girl, but all your experiences with boys just felt empty. Felt like a chore more than fun. And who better to tell than Ellie? She had been out for years, having had her fair share of girlfriends despite her slightly awkward attitude at times. When the word 'experiment' left your lips you saw a glint in her eyes.
It made her pause, wipe her mouth with the back of her hand and place the bottle onto the nightstand. Making space for it amongst the clutter. The way she looked at you made you tilt your head in confusion, until she opened her mouth.
"You could experiment with me"
"Ellie" you finally speak up, grasping her wrist gently to halt her movement. Fingers grazing over her tattoo and making her gaze snap from the floor to your eyes. God she did really have the prettiest eyes. You'd always thought so, oftentimes comparing the hues to the fresh grass during summer or the moss growing deep in your parents garden. "I want to"
"Yeah?" She looks like she doesn't believe you, eyebrows slightly knitted together. You swallow hard before nodding, Ellie beckons you over with her hand. "Cm'here" when you inch closer you can't help but watch how Ellie flicks her tounge over her slightly chapped lips. Feeling her slowly move to hold onto your waist as you start to straddle her lap while your hands rest on her shoulders. "If you want to stop just tell me okay?"
"Promise" you feel your heart speed up as Ellie leans in. Far enough where you could kiss her but she let's you make the choice. So you do. Pressing your lips to hers and letting your eyes flutter shut.
And it makes it feel like a firework has went off in your chest.
The two of you mesh together like puzzle pieces, soft and slow while your mind races with a million thoughts. You can feel how Ellie is holding back, her hands not moving from their position on your waist. But after a few minutes when you rock your hips forward slightly you could almost swear she groans into your mouth. So you do it again, making her pull back from the kiss.
"Can I touch you?" She was always like this, always asking a million question. Things like if you wanted the last slice of pizza or what movie to put on. She always let you take the lead, like she was afraid of making the wrong choice. You nod but she just chuckles softly. "Words darling" it makes you want to clentch your thighs together, the way her her accent slips into that semi texan drawl that she picked up from Joel.
Your hands come over the top of hers, guding her up and under your tank top "Please Els"
Her fingers are calloused from the years of guitar, running up your skin slowly. Too slowly. But you don't want to complain, not with the way she's looking at you. Eyes following her hands as she pushes the fabric further up your body. You decide to speed it up a little. Taking the fabric in your own hands and pulling it over your head, throwing it somewhere in the room.
Normally this is when you'd start to feel weird. Your body would almost stiffen and your brain would be flooded with thoughts of leaving. A deep guilt or twisted knot in your throat.
But not now.
Not with Ellie.
Instead your stomach feel tighten at how her eyes take you in. Slowly scanning over you like you're the most breath taking thing she's even seen. Her hands pause just before reaching your breasts, her pupils so blown her green eyes as almost black as she looks up at you.
"Take it off?" She whispers. Her finger coming up to ghost over the band of your bra. You nod, reaching around with shaky hands to undo the clasp. Letting the bra fall onto Ellie's lap in the sliver of space between you two. She picks it up and moves it to the side, carefully. Like it was priceless even though it was the cheapest one you owned. Some target bralette that was on sale. It was nothing like how your previous partners treated your belongings. With them it was always thrown across the room like trash, nothing more than an obstacle to their pleasure. "You're so- you're just so- fuck" Ellie mumbles before chewing on her bottom lip. Her cheeks flushed the sweetest shade of pink as her hands slowly creep up your sides, inching towards your breasts.
"Ellie" you whine softly, the ache between your legs become worse with every passing second. Like you were dying for her to just touch you. It makes her lock eyes with you, as her thumb runs over your nipple. Making them stiffen and forcing a soft gasp from your lips.
"Just tell me what you want baby" her lips trail down your neck slowly as she mumbles into your skin. "I'll give you everything just tell me"
Your voice cracks slightly as you finally manage to say "Touch me"
You can feel as a slight smirk creeps onto her lips. Her fingers continuing to toy with your nipples. Just enough to make you needy but not enough to scratch the itch in your core. "I am". The faux innocence in her voice makes you roll your eyes.
"Ellie" you huff, feeling your face heat up at what you're about to say. "Fuck me please? Wanna know what it's like" with that Ellie leans into your neck fully while her hands keep on your chest, starting to place kisses down your skin as your head tips back. You can feel her smile as she moves further down, nipping slightly at your pulse point. Your hand moves to her hair, gripping softly while your hips uncontrollably start to rock against her. Desperate for any friction. Ellie pulls back but before you can complain she taps your hip.
"Straddle my thigh" you tilt you head confused but she gives you a smile before brushing a lose strand of hair out your face. "Trust me". So you do what she's asks, shifting until your legs are either side of her thigh. Ellie brings her hands to your hips, starting to steadily rock you against her. You gasp then moan softly. Almost teary eyed at finally getting some real touch from her. Even if it's clad by several layers of fabric. "See? How's that feel?"
"Good" you say with a shaky voice as Ellie sets your pace. Guiding you with a tight grip. "Feels good Ellie fuck"
"Mm" she coos softly, kissing over your collarbones before nipping at the sensitive spot where your neck and shoulder meet. "Just gotta get you ready yeah? Get you all wet for when I fuck you so good you'll forget about all the guys that couldn't make you cum". Her lips move down to your hardened nipples, wrapping around one of them as you throw you head back in pleasure.
Now this Ellie?
This was a whole new person. Like her awkward shell broke away and left someone who you were going to be thinking about forever. Suddenly all the girls she managed to get with make sense, because she's hardly touched you and you're soaking through your panties.
"Fuck" your hands tighten on her shoulders as her tounge rolls over your nipple. You still your hips, almost afraid that she'll make you cum just from this and that makes her pause. Detaching from you with a confused look.
Her eyebrows knit together and her hand comes up to cup your hot cheek. "You okay?"
Maybe it's the wine, maybe it's the years of subtle crushing. Or maybe it's the way your almost certain there's a wet patch on Ellie's pyjama bottoms but you can't help stumbling out. "Fuck me Ellie"
Her hand snakes back down to your hip and she flips you over, making you squeal as your back hits the sheets. A slight giggle leaving your lips before Ellie crashes hers with yours. Her hand moving down your stomach to the band of your shorts. She pulls back but you don't give her a a chance to ask, already pulling off your shorts and panties. Kicking them onto the floor as Ellie moves down to between your legs.
"What you doing?" You ask with a slight tilt to your head, propping yourself onto your elbows to look down at her.
"What's it looks like?" She asks with a slight chuckle, starting to pepper kisses up your inner thighs but pausing before reaching your dripping pussy. "What? No one eat you out before?". Her smile fades when you shake your head, eyes darting between you and the sight before her. "That's just criminal dude"
Before you can comment on the fact she's just called you dude her tounge licks a fat strip through your folds. Making you gasp and grip the sheets. Skilled tounge circling your clit while her eyes stay focused on you. With a certain flick your hand flies to grab onto her auburn locks, tugging from the root as Ellie moans into you.eyes fluttering shut as your hips start to rutt against her face, changing a high you've never even come close to with others.
"Ellie" you whine as your back arches, soft pants filling the room as her hands creep up your hips and pull you closer. Making you moan so loudly you're almost certain anyone walking by outside would've heard. "Fuck, fuck, Els- gonna-!". Ellie doesn't falter, doesn't give you a second to breath as your orgasm rushes through you. Hips desperately trying to escape Ellie's unforgiving grasp as she works you through it, no sign of caring about the way your thighs clamp around her head unforgivingly.
By the time she pulls away to lick your slick from her lips your brain is fuzzy. Staring up at the same ceiling you helped pull glow in the dark stickers off as Ellie taps your shin.
"You...you okay?" Her voice sounds so small. You finally manage to hold yourself up to look at her. Lips swollen from your teeth sinking into them and face hot to the touch.
"That...Els that-" your words get caught in your throat so instead you reach for the collar of her shirt. Pulling her up until your lips crash together, the taste of yourself filling your mouth as Ellie places a hand on the back of your neck.
When you two part she gives you a cocky smile. Gliding hee finfers cross your cheek before moving the loose babyhairs out of your face. "I'm gonna take that as a five star review then?"
You giggle before fake thinking. "Hmm I don't know Els think I need to try it again, yknow get all the data".
She nods with pursed lips, a serious expression taking over her face. "For science".
"For science".
258 notes · View notes
joonsytip · 2 days
Text
Only for Love || Mingyu - Part 2
Tumblr media
Pairings: Mingyu x Fem!Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Husband!Mingyu, Cold Wife!Reader, Arranged Marriage au, Contract Marriage au, Divorce au
Synopsis: When an accidental discovery has your perception of happy married life crumbling down, you do what you think is the best for everyone involved. Naturally, your opinion of the best doesn't cater to your husband's. So what happens when things spiral out due to unforeseen events?
Warnings: NSFW, virgin reader, cunnilingus, consensual and penetrative sex, couple uses protection (you do too), mentions of past accident, workplace politics allusions, mentions of getting stalked and periods.
Word Count: 6.1k
Minors DNI! Minors DNI! Minors DNI! Minors DNI!
[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]
Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2
Tumblr media
It's been half an hour since your arrival to the party and the lack of interaction between you and Mingyu starts to raise some brows.
Mingyu stays rooted to the same place, his eyes fixated on you as he realises that it was wrong of him to totally wring you out and knowing your temperament he's not brave enough yet to place himself in the periphery of your vision.
"The marriage is really a sham, afterall."
Mingyu scoffs, not bothering to look at the source of the voice.
Kim Hanjun has been demoted under the obvious reason of underperforming and it's boiling his blood having to work under Mingyu because being a man with connections and boasting about it openly would have eventually come to bite him back given he's not even good at his job.
"Your wife isn't even interested in you it seems."
Fisting his hands, Mingyu decides to mute out his words.
"Oh so you're not gonna speak because you might accidentally spill something?"
But there's a limit to how much one can endure. Even though he has the patience of a saint, Mingyu just can't tolerate this obnoxious colleague of him.
Just as he opens his mouth to retort, he feels a hand circling his arm. It's you.
"You must be Kim Hanjun?", you say with a poker face, "You're quite the infamous one around here."
Both the men are caught off-guard by your presence.
"Now if you could excuse us.", your grip tightens on your husband, "I have some making up to do, as you can see husband's upset is at me for not spanning attention to him."
Hanjun is rendered speechless when you step forward and say in a dangerously low tone, "If I see you pestering my husband one more time, you might not find your company ID working while swiping."
The man is suddenly sweating and you cross over your arms with a smirk, "I usually don't interfere but sorry to break it to you, if we come down to this, I'd like you to always remember what position my uncle holds in the company. You're not the only one who can exert connections."
Mingyu looks at you in awe. He wants to record this on his phone so that he could watch this again and again. His wife is standing up for him and that's the absolute hottest you've looked.
Once Hanjun leaves, you also turn on your heels to do so but Mingyu doesn't let you.
"I'm tired.", you say turning to look at him, hand trying to scuffle out of his strong grip, "I'm leaving."
"We're leaving.", Mingyu says leading the way, hands still held together.
While it's a sight for others to finally see the couple, might be romantic to some as well by the way Mingyu is not letting go of you but you know the truth so does your husband.
The car ride back home is silent because halfway neither of you speak and for the rest of the path, you somehow fall asleep.
You wake up in Mingyu's arm as he carries you to the bedroom.
"Let me down.", you say tiredly.
But your husband only sets you down on the bed and once he does he starts spilling the apologies.
"I was mad at you and thought you won't come if I asked you.", he says lowering his gaze, "I'm sorry."
"It's okay.", you say not meeting his gaze either and fumbling your fingers, "You should tell me if any of my behaviour has hurt or is bothering you. I can't read minds, Mingyu."
There's a pang in his chest as guilt consumes him. His mind lingers back on how he had been ignoring you for the past few days. And now that he looks at you, he realises the chronic tiredness ghosting over your features.
"Now if you could please move so that I can get changed.", you say, hands gesturing the way out.
Mingyu swears he hasn't had a drop of alcohol present in his body at the moment so why is he all of a sudden, seeing and feeling things differently?
Why are you glowing in the poorly lit room? Since when did you have such deep beautiful pair of eyes? How are your lips looking so luscious?
Mingyu loosens the tie round his neck, clearing his throat. As he has been crouching, he stands up and sides himself so that you would get out of sight because somehow though it's chilly but by doing absolutely nothing you've managed to heat him up.
You walk upto the closet and after searching for a while you turn around to look at your husband.
"Can I wear something of yours?", you ask, leaning against the door, "I think all of my comfortable nightwears have ended up in the laundry."
The man chokes, he wonders if the stars are plotting against him tonight. He settles with a subtle nod, looking everywhere but at you.
You mumble a thanks and grab the first thing that looks comfortable, going into the bathroom to change.
Mingyu rushes out of the room grabbing a pair of clothes and proceeds to wash himself in the guest bathroom just to cool off. He watches his red tinted cheeks in the dazed vision in the mirror, notices his heavy breaths and eyes down to the semi grown tent in his pants.
Something's wrong with him. He can't comprehend his state. His mind lingers back to the moments when you were defending him against Hanjun. His heart beats erratically when he remembers the accidental view of your cleavage through the dress when he was carrying you inside. The slit of your dress wasn't helpful at all as he could see your trained thighs on display everytime you moved. And your long manicured nails, he's sure that they would look beautiful running through his nape and back.
Mingyu slaps himself twice on both the cheeks, he takes a cold shower.
But he's just a man afterall, so when sees you standing in front of the dressing table in his shirt and shorts he breath hitches and he gasps. Loud enough to catch your attention. As you look at him, he looks at your collarbones peaking out because his shirt is too loose on you.
And before you could say anything he's already laying on the bed hurriedly facing away, pulling over the covers to hide the re-emerging boner.
You follow his actions, laying beside him but facing his back. You wonder if you should sleep at the guestroom because your husband is still mad at you. And his actions are clearly saying so as the person who can't sleep without hugging is maintaining the distance, not bothering to even face you, like he has been doing for the past days.
With a heavy sigh, you tell him, "I'll sleep in the guestroom. We can talk when you feel like you can bear to look at me again."
Just as you turn on your back to get up, you're being held back and within a span of seconds your husband is hovering on top of you.
"I'm sorry, I can't control myself anymore."
And admitting that he crashes his lips onto yours. You gasp grabbing his arms before sighing into the kiss. Mingyu sucks onto your lips pacing them slower now. His hand roams up to rest on your neck, gently rubbing along the column, the sensation of his touch eliciting another gasp out of you.
His tongue enters your mouth and it's lewd in the way they slotting perfectly on each other. His mouth descends to press kisses on your chin and collarbones.
The one time he detaches his mouth off you to unbotton your (his) shirt, you're tapping on his forearm. His gaze follows your hands which are now covering your eyes.
There's a bit of silence. Mingyu wonders if he's forcing himself on you, without your consent and with the thought just as he prepares himself to get off, you say something that wracks his head.
"This will be my first time. I've never been touched before.", you say shakily, evidently embarassed enough to not uncover your eyes until Mingyu does so.
Though Mingyu has his mind too clouded to be pondering over anything but the first question he asks with those eyes now turned soft, after urging you to look at him is, "Do you want to do this? Is it okay for me to proceed? Tell me if you want me to stop."
"Please don't stop.", you breathe out immediately averting your gaze which causes you to miss the smile your husband directs at you before placing his hand under your head to raise it swiftly to kiss you.
"I'll make it worth, Y/N. I'll make you feel good.", he whispers in between the kisses.
You lay naked, all bared out under him as after spanning enough attention to your boobs, Mingyu shifts all his focus on your wet, leaking core.
"Gonna prep you first", he says in his husky voice, "and let me know if you want me to stop."
His tongue laps a long stripe against your cunt and you grip the sheet underneath desperately to hold onto. He keeps tonguing your cunt, holding your legs apart as they try to close off, his nose bumping against your clit making it impossible to hold your moans anymore.
You are squirming under the mercy of yoYir husband and his tongue. There's a knot tightening in the pit of your stomach and you could do nothing, not even speak out any coherent sentences.
"Cum for me, Y/N.", Mingyu urges you and that's the push you need before pouring out the juices all over his face. You're catching breathes when sensitivity hits you as your husband licks you clean off the juices.
You are biting down on your arm when Mingyu decides to prep you a bit further by scissoring his long fingers in your hole until it's oozing out for the second time.
Mingyu presses a soft kiss on your forehead before scurrying away for a few seconds and coming back holding a bunch of condoms in his hands.
"You had those?", you ask propping yourself on your elbows, genuinely amused.
Mingyu cocks his brow, "Not sure who it was but one of the guys has kept them in the drawer at one of the times they visited."
He climbs on the bed, straddling over you as he tears the wrapper with his teeth and rolls up a couple of condoms up his girth, "I didn't even know until all of them sent the same picture in the group chat."
You nod in silence, looking at his big veiny cock and it's red tip that's leaking precum, wondering if it's gonna even fit inside of you.
Mingyu hovers over you, pressing another soft kiss on your forehead.
"It's gonna hurt a bit at start but it's gonna feel good, okay?"
You nod again letting Mingyu hold your hands over your head, intertwining the fingers. He slowly pushes his length and sensing your ragged breathing he stills for sometime before continuing until he hilts all the way inside.
Tears roll down, as you try to adjust and your husband does nothing but kiss you softly trying to soothe you, divert your mind from the pain.
"Let me know when you want me to move."
He waits patiently and once you ask him to move, he thrusts ever so slowly, his lips never leaving yours.
"Gyu, faster please.", you say breaking the kiss.
And who is your husband to deny your wishes. He picks up his pace steadily thrusting in and out, as both of your moans fill the room.
Mingyu fiddles with your nipples by taking them into his mouth while his fingers rub your clit at a fast pace.
You're too dumbified by the way your body is reacting. Your legs are shaking, your stomach is pitting a knot again, your hands are gripping onto your husband for dear life and you swear you're seeing stars.
"Y/N?", Mingyu calls you out, seeing your dazed vision, "Are you okay?"
Your reply comes as another moan as your nails dig crescent shapes onto his back deeper, running through the back of his neck, grabbing onto the hair on the nape.
"Can you hold on for a bit more?", he coaxes you once he realises your gummy walls are clenching harder around his cock, "Let's cum together, can you do that for me right?"
Mingyu looks at the juncture where the bodies are meeting, where your cunt is swallowing him wholly. He groans at the sight of white foamy ring around his cock and kisses you hard making you squeak into his mouth.
"Let it go, Y/N.", he encourages you, his calloused fingers now rubbing your sides as his thrusts turn sloppy, "Cum for me."
Both of you are catching breathes. You lay eyes closed, not feeling your body at all. Mingyu lies looking at you, admiration laced in his eyes, his heart doing dibs thinking about how you trusted him enough to give your firsts to him. He realises that unlike him, you're not vocal so he has to focus on your body language to understand your needs. He also makes his mind to have a conversation with you like a descent person in the morning but before that--
"You need to pee.", he tells discarding the condom in the bin and while you groan he continues, "And we need to wash up. I'll run the bath, clean us up and change the sheets so please don't fall asleep till then."
You are incapable of registering his words so you just let him do whatever he wants to do with you.
Late in the morning, the conversation gets shelved until evening because Mingyu fucks you again because he is insatiable and so are you. Well, you both end up being each other's breakfast in bed.
Tumblr media
It's the day, you dread the most. It was the same day sixteen years ago when you lost your family. It's your birthday.
If only you hadn't thrown a tantrum about not wanting to celebrate the day at home as it had been done for all the years. Birthdays had always been a great deal to you. You wanted the celebration to be a bit grander which led all to unanimously decide to go the soaring picnic spot, inviting all your friends as well. Uncle being your favourite person, the rest of the family drove the to venue as it was an hour drive away a little earlier to set up things while you and your uncle drove in a van along with all your friends.
But instead of the picnic spot, you ended up in the hospital with your uncle identifying the bodies. The collision of two vehicles were severe enough to claim the lives of all present in them.
Though your uncle had never expressed anything as such but you know you are to blame for everything. You wondered if seeing you was even bearable to him. The guilt and regret changed you whole as a person. After the incident you distanced yourself from everything, everyone.
Birthdays mean nothing to you now. Unlike for other workers, no one receives your birthday mail as you have requested to the officials. No one knows, no one asks, no one cares and that's perfect for you.
It's been a long day, with you driving successive review and checkpoint meetings. One of the rare days where you want nothing but to fall to the comfort of your bed.
Just as you enter the house, you see a string a shoes lined one after another. You enter the hallway and come across the faces of your in-laws, your husband, his friends and your uncle.
Gatherings on any other day is always welcomed but not today. You have this look of disapproval on your face and the entire flock of people freeze. Without a word, you disappear into your room and it's about half an hour when you don't come out, Mingyu assures everyone and goes into the room.
"What are they doing here?", you ask as soon as he enters.
"Why? Are they not allowed to visit us?"
You glare at him, "They are. But why today? And you always inform me beforehand if anyone is coming so why's there an exception today?"
Mingyu sighs but walks upto you, "Y/N, they're just here to spend sometime with us. But if you want then I'll tell them to leave and trust me they'll leave instantly."
"Tell them to leave then. I don't want to entertain anyone today.", you say stoicly.
Mingyu nods, "All of them have brought something they've cooked for you. Hansol cooks occasionally and almost burnt his house but he came in so proud, bragging how he was able to cook something for you that's edible. And oh", he raises his finger plastered with a bandaid, "I've got a cut while chopping the vegetables. So are you gonna atleast eat them or should I tell them to take those back as well?"
There's a pang in your heart, it's constricts within your chest. Your eyes glistens with tears, the resolute within you starts to dissolve but you could never afford to do so. You don't deserve to be celebrated.
"It's the death anniversary of the people I love.", you say helplessly, "I don't remember them vividly, each year the memories of them are fading away. I can't bear to look at uncle without feeling guilty. He lost his son, his wife, his brother all because I wanted to celebrate a stupid birthday."
You are sobbing now and Mingyu holds you in his arms, letting his own tears fall. He hates that there's nothing he could provide to soothe you.
"There are so many words on the tip of my tongue but they're all meaningless.", he says and bites on his tongue to stop those tears from spilling, "I'm sorry but I won't let you wallow in sadness, I won't leave you all by yourself."
After staying quiet in his embrace, you tell him, "People are waiting for you, you should go. I'll be fine, I'm used to this."
Mingyu pulls away and holds your face gently, "Do you trust me?"
Your eyes say a lot, even if you hadn't given a nod, your husband would've known the answer.
"Then let's go and spend time with them.", Mingyu coaxes you, "They wouldn't do anything to make you uncomfortable, if they do, I'll send them back."
You ponder over for sometime. Past years have always been the same, you wanting the day to pass by anyhow. You've preferred to be alone but you think you'd make an exception for your husband and all those people who are waiting for you outside knowing they genuinely care for you.
When you both step out of the room, you could see the worried faces and it makes you feel bad.
"We're are really sorry for barging in.", Seokmin breaks the silence as he stands up and following his suite everyone does so well, "We'll get going."
And there's a lot of shuffling. Everyone is off their seats and packing the stuffs when you decide to interrupt.
"I'm hungry", you say everyone halt, "And I'm bored of eating his cooking.", you point at your husband who gasp in offence but smiles nonetheless.
And that's how the dinner table was set with everyone sitting together eating and chatting happily. No one wishes you birthday, none of them have bought you gifts and it does seem like another normal gathering except for the subtle wishes of wellbeing they launch softly at you.
"You are beautiful, Y/N, inside out.", Minhee says as she secures the seat beside you, "I hope to see you healthy and beautiful always."
Sometime later, when the topic of work is brought up, Soonyoung slickly tells, "Y/N is handling such a big project.", and looking at you he speaks with a mouthful, "I know it'll be a huge success. Hope we get to see you achieve many more milestones in your career."
And throughout the dinner you recieve such praises and wishes from every single one of them. You didn't want to send them off but you had to with a heavy heart. First time, in several years you feel like you have a family, you want to hold onto people, want to expect certain things and be a part of them.
First time in several years, your birthday didn't haunt you rather it gave you a reason to smile.
Lying the bed, tired after a long day when you feel an arm drape around your waist, you turn to face your husband, snuggling closer in the comfort of his embrace when he opens his arms for you.
His eyes droop in sleepiness but he strokes your hair saying, "I wish you to be happy.", smiling sheepishly he adds, "Thanks for trusting me."
And when you watch your husband drift off to sleep, stroking his hair with a hesitant hand, you whisper, "Thanks for tolerating me."
Your relationship with Mingyu progresses steady but it's beautiful in it's own way. To you, Mingyu hasn't only been a good husband, he has been a great companion. He takes care of you, knows your limits and shortcomings, never makes you feel weirded out and makes sure to sort things out to be on the same page.
Your calendar previously which had only meeting dates marked on them are now filled with many more events such as your anniversary, Mingyu's birthday, Minhee's birthday, your uncle's birthday, your in-laws' anniversary etc etc. A smile appears on your face when you reminisce how late you were to your second anniversary party and how pissed Mingyu was at you, avoiding you the whole night until after the party was over and you had stripped yourself naked in front of him which worked to dissolve his anger as you let him fuck you dumb till the dawn.
You have a best friend now and her name is Minhee. You've always liked her and over the years you two have grown closer. Mingyu's friends, well more of yours, are not scared of you anymore, they've dropped all the formalities to pit long ago.
Junhui shares every funny thing he sees on the internet, on appointment days he rants to you about patients and work. Soonyoung now shares table with you during lunch and eat your ears off. Seokmin calls you randomly during work and if you don't pick up, he just sends you a candid picture of your husband with a caption 'thought you'd be missing him, so here's your husband. Don't thank me, just name one of your gaming character after me.'
Hansol is the most random of all, he just pings you any fact he learned out of the blue without any context. Sometimes when on asking when you confirm that you're free he sends you a bunch of pics telling you to choose the best among the lot. Jeonghan is the quietest among all, he'd only talk to you during the gatherings.
You have started calling Mingyu's parents as what Mingyu calls them because you are comfortable to call them so. They've blended into your life making you feel as their own. These changes in your life have helped you bond better with your uncle as well.
It's been over two years and you think you're happy. You think your married life is perfect and you're in love with certain things.
You love the back hugs, love those forehead kisses, love the smell of coffee that hits the house in the morning, love the way his mouth opens and closes in sleep, love when the fangs graze his lips as he smiles wide, love when his hand sneaks to wrap around yours on a busy road.
You're in love.
In love with your husband because how could you not, he's so easy to love. Though you feel there's still a lot you both need to discover about each other, you hope he'd also love you one day. He's your first love after all.
You are in the middle of a meeting when your phone keeps vibrating continuously. Trying to ignore it, your brows knit in agitation but that soon turns into worry when you check the caller ID. It's Minhee. Excusing yourself, you call her back.
And now after a drive of an hour you find yourself in front of the park, near her apartment.
"It's okay, I'm here now.", you say patting on Minhee's back, "Once you feel better, tell me everything."
And after some moments Minhee does relay everything. There's a thug-like guy who has started visiting the café she regulars at because somehow Minhee has piqued his interest. Even though she didn't notice at first, it started to strike her that she has been seeing a face almost everywhere she visits.
He has been following her to and back from the school she teaches in. He's been bold enough to get in the way and ask her to sleep with him for a night, if she wants to stop getting bothered by him.
Minhee has had enough to slap him straight across his face, even threatening to report him to the police. And that seemed to work because he didn't appear before her for a whole week until today.
As she describes it terrified, he had an ominous gaze, when he had given her an ultimatum to be compliant or be ready for the worse.
"I was so shocked and scared. I could only think about calling you. If Gyu knows about this he'd kill that guy even before police knows about him and would never let me work here. I don't want that.", Minhee says, "I am planning to go to the police today."
"You're so brave", you tell her as your gaze sweeps across the surrounding, "Let's deal with that guy now. Is it that guy standing over there?"
And Minhee now ponders over if it would have been safer to call her brother because the stalker guy, all bruised from the beating he got from you is kneeling in front of you both with hands up in air.
You've called the police and as soon as they arrive, that guy is mumbling confessions of all the harassment he did and tried to perform on Minhee.
"Did I tell you, I'm trained in taekwondo?", you ask her frowning, "Uncle also made me take specialization classes on self defence.", you suddenly hiss because of the bruises inflicted on you during the hassle and look at her.
Minhee engulfs you in a hug, "Thank you so much. You're a lifesaver."
Your lips curl up and you say pulling away, "Let's go to the station and complete the formalities and then we'll have to inform Mingyu and mom & dad as well."
Minhee hesitates but she knows she'll eventually have to so.
"Let's do that.", she agrees, "I have something else to tell you."
Your brows quirk up questioning as you both head towards your car.
"I have developed a liking towards Soonyoung.", she smiles looking at your flabbergasted demeanor, "No ones knows except you and him."
You swear, your head spins at this.
And as if she could read your mind, she adds, "I don't know how he feels but he said he'd never date me because I'm his friend's sister and that's against bro code."
You scoff, how typical of Soonyoung.
When Mingyu stumbles upon his sister's apartment that night, he finds her sleeping peacefully in her room. And when he goes searching for you, he finds you in the bathroom clutching the slab. Your eyes are red, forehead glistening with sweat.
"Oh god, Y/N...", Mingyu rushes inside as the door was open and holds you up on your feet, "what happened?"
"Stop shouting, you'll wake her up.", you say groaning, "and why do you care anyways?"
Right, you both rarely fought but when you did it would go on for days, like now. It started with a simple matter but escalated real quick causing Mingyu to lash out on you and give you a silent treatment. You tried to talk to him twice, which was more than you think you have done but were met with radio silence. He went as far as being petty enough to not even wait for you at dinner table or sleep facing you. And that's how you decided to shut him out as well. It's been a week since you both talked.
As Mingyu holds your waist to support you, you cry out in pain. You tried to resist but when he glares at you, you give up. He unbottons your top and his eyes almost gauze out on seeing the cut on your waist.
"How did it happen?", he sits you on the counter and pulls out the first aid box.
You stay quiet.
"Y/N, I'm asking something.", he uses an authoritative tone, looking at you.
"I thought we are not talking.", you snark at him but gasp when he dabs the cotton with antiseptic gel on the cut. He does several other sorts of things which makes you think he's a trained nurse before pasting the adhesive.
"Y/N, please.", he gets up and holds your face, "I know I have been an asshole and I'll keep apologizing to you until you forgive me. But please tell me are you hurt anywhere else? Did that bastard do this to you?"
You sigh and peel his hands off your face, "Yes, he was swinging his knife at me so while tackling him, I got that wound. And I got some bruises but Minhee treated those, didn't want to worry her so hid this one. You should be worried about Minhee. I'm fine."
Mingyu looks at you with so much admiration. His heart swells within his chest when he thinks about how you saved his sister and handled the situation well while he was being a jerk to you.
"The first thing Minhee asked on calling me was how did I manage to marry someone as amazing as you. That I should have seen you, you were looking like a superhero fighting off the evil.", he smiles pinching the bridge of your nose.
You bite your lower lip, your brows crease and Mingyu instantly deflates noticing the obvious signs.
"Are you on your periods?", he asks concerned.
"The cramps are killing me."
"You should have told me sooner.", he immediately lifts you up and takes you to the guestroom and lays you on the bed, "I think I know what all things Minhee uses for her cramps and where they are kept. I'll be back."
"I was supposed to sleep with Minhee tonight.", you say frowning.
"No, you're sleeping with me", he smiles, crouching to peck your forehead, "Minhee rotates around the bed all night in sleep. Doesn't matter though, I won't be letting you out of my sight."
And while he spends the whole night making sure you get a good sleep, in the morning he makes you apply for sick leave. He scolds Minhee for not calling him sooner as it could have been dangerous for you both but in turn gets scolded by you.
He doesn't take his car, rather drives your car back home because you were scheming on sending him away first, not wanting to go with him. He sulks throughout the way back because when he leans in to you, in the guise of helping you putting on the seatbelt just to give a kiss, you slap a hand over his mouth. But that doesn't stop him from not letting you go to your office room the whole day and spend the time in taking rest.
Tumblr media
It's an important day for you. It's a success party of the new game launch and playing the key role in leading back to back projects you're going to get felicitated at the party by the director herself.
You have informed Mingyu beforehand and he has promised to reach the venue before time, also squealing for days on about how he'd capture everything and show others, that how proud he is of his wife.
Your eyes boringly scan through the crowd, waiting for your husband.
"How am I looking?", Soonyoung's voice startles you.
As he takes a seat beside you, you tell him, "As usual. Are you supposed to not look like a human but something else?"
He scowls, "Wow, you're really doing this to me."
He brings over a glass of wine from the waiter who was passing and says, "I heard there have been some changes in the management and they'll be announcing it today."
You take a candy from the bowl kept on the table, "I'll be reporting to someone who has joined the company recently. My previous boss is gonna take over the strategy planning unit."
Soonyoung laughs, "There are rumours about him being eccentric."
"Let him be anything, I don't care as long as it doesn't hinder my work.", you tell him, eating the candy and checking your phone, "They're gonna start soon. Any idea when your dear friend is gonna arrive?"
"He was supposed to leave from work early", he tells you, "Don't worry he's punctual."
Mingyu curses when he checks the time. He's late.
"Min, I think you should leave as soon as possible.", Seokmin says as he helps him pack his bag, "You'll go home, get changed and then leave for the venue, right? You're running late by almost an hour already."
Mingyu is hot on his heels as he hurriedly takes his bag and rushes out of his cabin.
"Be careful!", Seokmin yells seeing Mingyu's fleeting demeanor, knowing how clumsy he can be and as he takes the keys to lock the cabin as requested by his friend his gaze falls on the USB drive which he knows Mingyu would need to work on some presentation.
Seokmin rushes to catch him so that he can give him the USB just in time. As he punches out his employee card, he sighs in relief as he recognises Mingyu standing still just outside the main door.
He pushes through the door and is just about to call him, something catches his eyes from the periphery of vision.
Just like Mingyu, Seokmin freezes on spot.
Because it is Sora who's standing in front of them.
Seokmin doesn't know what or if they had any conversation prior to his arrival but he grabs Mingyu's arm when he sees Sora open her car door and his friend heading in the se direction.
"Min, don't go.", he speaks the next part in louder tone, "your wife is waiting for you."
"I know what I'm doing, Min.", Mingyu frees his arm, "Trust me on this."
Seokmin watches helplessly as the car drives off to who knows where.
You are dejected. Even when recieving the award your eyes kept scanning the crowd just in hopes of seeing your husband's face. And still now doing so you keep on checking your phone, too upset to call or text him.
"I'll call him after they make the announcement.", Soonyoung says equally upset, "I'm sure something really urgent came up otherwise he'd have not missed it."
Everyone is asked to stand near the stage where they announce the key changes in management.
You are shocked when you hear a certain name being announced, see a certain figure taking the centre of the stage.
Xu Minghao is going to be your boss tomorrow onwards.
Minghao seems to have taken notice of you as his smile widens, his gaze locking on you.
Soonyoung has noticed the change in your demeanor, has followed the gaze of Minghao. He observes quietly before motioning you to come with him to a quieter place.
He then calls Mingyu putting his phone on speaker who doesn't pick up. There's an uneasy feeling settling at your chest and hope that your husband is fine wherever he is.
Soonyoung then calls Seokmin and regrets putting the phone on speaker because you hear what he says.
"Mingyu left with Sora and I can't reach him."
Your heart sinks because even though no one has ever talked to you about her, you know that name very well. Your husband's ex girlfriend whom he to marry.
"Trouble in paradise?"
Both you and Soonyoong turn to see Minghao standing, his gentle gaze bestowing upon you.
You decide to forget any other thoughts and wear a tight lipped smile, "Been a long time, Hao."
Tumblr media
→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip.
345 notes · View notes
amourane · 2 days
Text
love notes in music
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: drummer!theodore nott x rich girl!reader
genre: fluff, modern au
w/c: 1.2k
summary: you always got what you wanted and the extremely hot drummer was no exception.
warnings: none
a/n: i am here to push forward the drummer theo agenda because yes yes and yes
Tumblr media
Trouble was coming. You could feel it in your bones. Maybe it was the extra shot of espresso you had today or the wild predictions in your horoscope, but you definitely sensed something brewing. It didn’t help that Enzo had interrupted your lunch and dragged you back to campus for god knows what reason.
"Enzo if this is another one of your tricks to get me to dance with you it's not going to work. Remember what happened last time?" 
You dug your heels into the grass as your best friend continued to drag you across the field. The campus auditorium came into view and you frowned. There was no reason for you to even be there today so why was Enzo tugging you along like bait?
“Yes Y/n I remember what happened last time.”
"I fractured my ankle and I do not want to wear a cast ever again. I couldn't match the darn thing with any of my clothes." You huffed out a breath at the memory of the ugly accessory that the doctors had insisted on your wearing despite your protests. 
Admittedly you were a bit of a spoiled brat but at least you knew that you were. Going to a normal university was one of your father’s choices. You would have never gone somewhere so shabby on a daily basis. Truth be told on the first day, you were actually planning to ditch and go grab a chai latte. Then you bumped into Enzo accidentally and the two of you seemed to click. 
It was a good friendship. He’d always be able to tell you when you were being a tad bit annoying because of your rich girl behaviour and you’d be able to join him in his multiple activities. One which led to the infamous ankle incident. 
“Don’t worry Y/n, you’ll still be able to wear that Gucci jacket-”
“It was an Armani jacket.”
“Yeah yeah.” Enzo pushed open the door to the auditorium, and you were immediately greeted by the sound of drums pounding heavily. The amplified sound hurt your ears. “Welcome to the band.” 
“Um...Enzo, do I need to remind you of the time when I broke a guitar?” You nervously watched the live band on stage. Technically it wasn’t your fault that the guitar broke. Enzo never did tell you how to properly use it. “And when did you join a band?”
“Please don’t remind me Y/n also I didn’t actually join the band I’m more of a-”
“Hey Enzo!” 
The music stopped. Your head whipped around and your eyes nearly fell out of their sockets at the absolute hunk that had just shouted. His dark hair seemed to glow under the spotlight making him look like some sort of angel. Your mouth ran dry when he waved a drumstick at you. His fingers looked as if they’d been carved out of stone. And his biceps. God his biceps. The guy was ripped. He was a drummer as well. What was more sexy than a drummer?! 
“Hey Theo!” Enzo, your backstabbing friend who knew your weakness for hot boys with dark hair that played the drums, embraced him in a tight hug. “The practice is going well.”
“I know!” 
Good god, his eyes were like beautiful whirlpools of love. The two boys started talking animatedly about something to do with music. There were a few words thrown here and there that you recognised but other than that you stood watching wide-eyed at the conversation in front of you. 
“Who’s the pretty lady?”
Theo turned to face you and seeing his face up close only made you want to kiss him more. He really was gorgeous. You cleared your throat, straightening your skirt. “I’m Y/n, Enzo’s best friend, and you are?”
“Theo.” He offered you his hand, which you shook. Wow, his hands were soft. You were almost jealous. Time to buy new hand cream. “Hey, I’ve heard of you. You’re that girl who nearly broke her foot when dancing.”
Your cheeks flushed. Was this your legacy now? The girl that nearly broke her foot while dancing? How horrible. You would much rather be known for your stunning looks or incredible fashion sense. 
“Actually I twisted my ankle but who’s keeping track?” 
“Y/n isn’t the best dancer or guitarist.” Enzo chimed in. “She’s really good at maths though, she’s my second brain.” He said it as if you were simply another organ in his body, but you let it slide, trying to make a good impression on the drummer boy.
Theo chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, it's good to know Enzo has a brain to rely on."
You giggled at his remark, feeling the tension ease a bit. "Yeah, he needs all the help he can get."
"Hey!" Enzo protested, a small pout forming. "I'll have you know I'm quite capable on my own."
"Sure you are." You teased, nudging him playfully. Then, turning back to Theo, you asked, "So, what kind of music do you guys play?"
Theo's face lit up with enthusiasm. "We're a rock band, mostly. Some original stuff, a few covers. We're actually looking for a new guitarist. Interested?" He winked, clearly joking.
You shook your head, laughing. "After what happened last time? I think I'll pass. I'm more of an appreciator of talent than a participant. But I might be persuaded to attend a private concert."
Theo laughed, a rich, warm sound that made your heart flutter. "A private concert, huh? I think we can arrange that."
Enzo rolled his eyes. "Oh boy, here we go."
Ignoring Enzo, you leaned a bit closer to Theo, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. "So, Theo, do you always look this good while playing the drums, or is today a special occasion?"
Theo raised an eyebrow, his smile turning into a smirk. "I guess you'll have to come to more practices to find out."
You gave him a once-over, pretending to think it over. "Maybe. I do have a very busy schedule, you know.”
“Sounds like a yes to me. We’ve got a gig this weekend, free up some space in that glamorous life of yours and come.
You tried your best to conceal your excitement at the fact you had just scored yourself a date with a very hot drummer. Forget about trouble today was definitely the best day of your life. 
"Alright, I'll be there." You agreed, feeling a flutter of excitement in your stomach. "But only if you promise me a private drum lesson afterward."
"It's a deal. I'll make sure you get the VIP treatment." Theo’s grin only widened and you felt your heart stutter at the sight. He really was handsome and if you didn’t know how he was single but that was good news for you.
“I’ve got some studying to catch up on but I’ll hold you to that.” You offered him a wave goodbye as you made your way out of the auditorium with Enzo. Theo simply smiled, reciprocating your action. 
A giddy feeling overtook your body as the sun shone down on you. There were millions and millions of butterflies soaring in your stomach and you could only squeal at the idea of seeing Theo in the next few days. Before your best friend could say anything you spun on your heels, this time dragging him along with you.
“We need to go shopping right now, I need a new outfit for the weekend.” 
Enzo could only groan as his feet automatically moved. It was going to be a long day.
Tumblr media
171 notes · View notes
siythn · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media
Cruel Summer (feat. Megumi Fushiguro) [Limited Edition CD]
MEGUMIXREADER! It seemed like summer just brought the both of you together somehow. Although, you and Megumi had always been kind of attached. Maybe it was the hot summer days, or the secrecy of your relationship. One thing was for sure, you wouldn't mind it being longer than a summer fling. ❝AND I SNUCK THROUGH THE GARDEN GATE, EVERY NIGHT THAT SUMMER JUST TO SEAL MY FATE❞ (LOVER MASTERLIST)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The mission had been brutal, it’s obvious by the bags starting to appear under your eyes. As you and Megumi walked back to Jujutsu Tech, you couldn't help but notice the deep frown etched on his face, his brow furrowed in that all-too-familiar expression of annoyance.
"What's so funny?" he asked, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.
You stifled another giggle, trying to compose yourself but failing miserably. "It's just. . .you look like you ate something sour. I can't take you seriously when you're making that face."
Megumi's frown deepened, as if to convince you to feel sorry for him. The glint of amusement in his eyes spoke louder. "I'm injured, you know. A little sympathy wouldn't hurt."
You nudged his shoulder playfully. "Oh, poor Megumi. Should I get you some candy to cheer you up?"
He huffed, but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching, fighting a smile. "You're impossible."
Unable to contain your laughter, you burst out giggling, slightly turning away from him to hide your face; trying to stop the attack. "And you're grumpy. It's a perfect match."
Without warning, Megumi shoved your shoulder lightly, causing you to stumble forwards. "Hey!" you exclaimed, still laughing. "What was that for?"
"For being a pain," he shot back, but his tone was light, and you could see the humor caught in the corner wrinkles of his eyes. He slowed his pace, letting you catch up, and you walked side by side in comfortable silence for a few moments.
As you entered the nursery at Jujutsu Tech, Megumi's steps became more deliberate, you quickly picked on the limp every two steps. Concern replaced your laughter as you saw the extent of his injuries, before it came to a stop. "Come on," you said gently, guiding him to a comfortable chair. "Let's get you patched up."
Megumi sat with stillness on the padded chair, wincing slightly as he shrugged off his bloodstained jacket. "You don't have to do this, you know," he muttered, eyes flicking to the side as he watched you gather the first aid supplies. Despite his words that came off in embarrassment, it was clear he was appreciative of the act.
You smiled, unfazed. "Someone has to take care of you, and it's certainly not going to be you." You knelt beside him, carefully dabbing at the gash on his arm with antiseptic. "Hold still."
He hissed slightly at the sting, and you couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh, come on, Megumi. You've faced curses that would make most people faint, and you're flinching at a little alcohol?"
"Maybe I just like the attention," he retorted, a smirk playing at his lips. His dark hair fell into his eyes, but even through the strands, you could see the mischief he carried within himself.
Rolling your eyes, you began wrapping the bandage around his arm, deliberately pulling it a tad too tight. He cringed, making you grin up at him. "Oops, sorry about that. Guess I'm just nervous being so close to a big, tough sorcerer like you."
Megumi's smirk widened. "Oh, really? Because it seems to me you're taking advantage of my weakened state."
You shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe I am. Someone has to keep you in check."
As you finished securing the bandage, you gave his arm a gentle pat. "There, all done. Now, let's see if we can get rid of that pain." Leaning in, you pressed a light kiss to his bandaged arm, looking up at him with a tease in your eye. "Better?"
Megumi's gaze softened, and in a swift movement, he reached out, tilting your chin up with his fingers. "Not quite," he murmured before capturing your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss.
Caught off guard, you felt your heart race, a deep warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the hot summer day. As you kissed him back, you couldn't help but smile, breaking away just enough to whisper, "People are going to see us." You cast a quick glance around, but the nursery seemed as deserted as ever. But still, that itchy feeling of paranoia gnawed at your mind.
You can’t really place when you officially started to like the black-haired male. It just sort of came to you one hot day in July, watching him train with his divine dogs. As odd of a sight it was, you couldn’t help the admiration in your stare.
It wasn’t long before Megumi picked it up. While the both of you shared a meal, you slipped up and confessed. One look from him confirmed your feelings, and the both of you accepted the terms of this new relationship. The both of you sworn to keep it hidden, although. Plus, it made your skin crawl to think of Yuji and Nobara pestering the both of you about it.
You couldn’t help but like the secrecy, moments like these made it more exciting to experience young love. It was obvious Megumi probably liked it more.
"Let them," Megumi replied, his voice low and firm, pulling you back into another kiss. This time, you let yourself let go the moment, forgetting the thoughts that intruded your mind. His lips were soft but insistent, and you melted into the embrace.
When you finally parted, both of you were breathless, faces mere inches apart. The reason why the both of you ending up in the nursery long forgotten. The golden sunlight filtered through the shutters of the window above, casting a warm glow on Megumi's features. His usually stoic expression was softened by the tender moment, his dark eyes holding an emotion you’ve had the chance to see with this new profound relationship.
"You're really something, you know that?" you said softly, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead.
He smiled, a rare genuine smile that not many had the privilege to say they see everyday, it made your heart skip a beat. "I could say the same about you."
For a moment, you both just stared at each other, time not seeming to bother the both of you. The sunlight highlighted the contours of his face, making his eyes appear even more intense. You felt a giggle bubble up inside you, unable to contain the joy of the moment.
Resting your head on his shoulder, you let out a soft laugh. "We're a mess, aren't we?"
Megumi chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. "Maybe, but I wouldn't have it any other way." He wrapped an arm snug around your waist, holding you close.
As you sat there together, the sun setting and casting long shadows across the garden, you couldn’t find the motivation to care if the both of you got caught. As long as you were here, wrapped in his arms, what would really hurt you?
Tumblr media
BONUS SCENE: The sun was setting, casting a warm golden hue over the Jujutsu Tech pool. It wasn’t used much, but when it was, it had always been a field day.
Clearly that reflected on you and Megumi sitting on the pool's edge, thoroughly exhausted from your splash fight and playful wrestling in the water. Both of you were soaked, bathing suits clinging to your bodies, but the laughter and joy in your faces made the discomfort worth it.
A half-eaten watermelon slice lays on a plate between you, the perfect refreshment after the exertion. You picked up the watermelon, the sticky juice already running down your fingers, and took a bite before offering it to Megumi. "Your turn," you said, squealing when the juice started to drip onto your lap.
Megumi leaned in, taking a big bite and then wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "This is a mess," he muttered, but the gaze he held with the fruit clearly suggested he wanted more. He leaned down one more time to finish it off.
"You think?" you replied with a laugh. "It's worth it, though."
Megumi picked up another full slice, holding it up to your lips. "Here, let me."
You leaned forward, taking a bite and trying not to laugh as more juice dribbled down your chin. "You're terrible at this," you teased, your eyes meeting his as you leaned up to continue chewing.
Just as Megumi was about to feed you another bite, you both froze. The sound of footsteps approaching quickly gave you no time to act, and you turned to see Yuji standing at the edge of the pool, his mouth agape. You slowly wipe your face in shock.
"Uh, hey," Yuji said, his eyes wide with realization. "Am I interrupting something?"
You and Megumi exchanged a glance. The both of you knew there was no getting out of this, especially with how close the two of you were. Megumi cleared his throat, his usual stoic demeanor faltering. "It's not what it looks like," he began, but the faint blush on his cheeks betrayed him.
Yuji's eyes lit up with understanding, and he broke into a wide grin. "Oh, I see! You two are dating!" His excitement was palpable, and you could see the gears turning in his head as he connected the dots.
You couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation hitting you. "Well, I guess the secret's out," you said, looking at Megumi with amusement.
Megumi sighed, but there was a small smile on his lips. "Yeah, I guess it is." He puts down eaten slice of watermelon before intertwining your fingers.
Yuji's grin only widened. "That's awesome! I had no idea. You guys make a great couple."
"Thanks, Yuji," you said, still chuckling. "Just maybe keep it on the down-low for now, okay?"
"Of course," Yuji agreed, his excitement undimmed. "But seriously, this is great. I'm happy for you guys."
Yuji spent one last on gaze the both of you one last glance before walking away, leaving you and Megumi to your watermelon and your quiet moment by the pool. With a moment of silence, you felt a warm glow of contentment. You leaned your head on Megumi's shoulder, closing your eyes and savoring the closeness.
”He’s not gonna keep his mouth shut, is he?" you murmured, echoing your earlier words.
Megumi chuckled softly, his arm wrapping around you. "Probably not."
You smiled, the sun setting behind you and casting long shadows over the pool. In that moment, everything felt okay. Just right, in your words.
Is what you would’ve said before you heard the heavy steps of running and the shouts of Nobara quickly approaching, Yujis screaming echoing down the halls. In the corner of your eye, you glance at Megumi, conveying the message in the stare.
“It’s fine, let her see.”
Tumblr media
107 notes · View notes
endemise · 3 days
Text
long ramble, progress update, & potential release timeframe below:
hii! i got a lot of coding done and i think im finally satisfied with how the game looks (for now…)
here are some screenshots of what some of it will look like on mobile!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
the friendship and romance levels shown in the relationship menu are just random as is the blurb for Aesop’s thoughts, they’re just for the example! (also characters thoughts are hidden by default, you click to reveal, then hide, them)
the stat bars were giving me hell but i finally figured them out with the the help of some forums and tumblr posts
i liked how in when twilight strikes by evertidings, the menu buttons (i.e. profile, stats, relationships) are listed at the top of the page so i took inspiration from that! and the many IFs that have a splash (?) screen at the beginning with the title
compared to when i started using twine (i think august 2023 was the first time i gave it a try), i’ve learned so much and there’s still so much to learn as well, i think coding has become my favorite part (making things looks pretty hehe)(with the help of amazing templates & ppl smarter than me, they do the heavy lifting fr)
with all the coding done (appearance wise) it’s lock in time for the revised prologue and chapter 1
the prologue has undergone a fair bit of change with the help of feedback & i’ve (hopefully) better established the setting and story.
some things that have changed besides wording and sentence structure, etc.: being able to choose what you did as a job (ex. working at the family inn) and meeting a new character (more like an old friend?)(no spoilers:))
some things i’ve been considering (SLIGHT SPOILER FOR CH.1 MAYBE): merging the revised prologue and chapter 1 into just the prologue bc chapter 1 differs a bit from the other chapters, but then the prologue would maybe be too strange timeframe wise? it’s a time skip after the events of the prologue (is that considered a spoiler, i don’t think so but???) that connects to the next chapters so maybe it’d just be better as its own chapter? or dropping the revised prologue by itself along with the updated ui/appearance then chapter 1 sometime after, or dropping the revised prologue and chapter 1 together, idk these are all just ideas i’ve been thinking about maybe i’ll do a poll
if you have anything you’d like to see, for example a specific job your MC worked, certain personality traits, or something like that, feel free to let me know & i’ll take them into consideration! i think now is the best time to add things bc it’s early development days & it’ll be easier to do so now than later
i’ve also decided to lean a little more into the supernatural aspect which i’m excited for (one specific thing really, i can’t wait to get to it🤭) the story’s world itself is fairly grounded in reality (as in the supernatural is unknown to most) but i’m looking forward to exploring it more
what you’re probably reading this for: depending on how i end up going about the prologue-chapter 1 merge decision & whether anything is added from requests/feedback, i’m aiming for a june release, july at the latest (fingers crossed). now that the appearance and function coding is complete (besides stat/choice tracking & other story related things), finishing the writing and coding it in is all that’s left
my schedule has done a 180 & some things are less than ideal at moment but it should all (hopefully) go smoothly from here! should anything change, i’ll let you all know
anyways, that’s all i have to say for now! ty for being patient & for reading this mess, i appreciate you all :)
81 notes · View notes
morganski-19 · 1 day
Text
Chills Right to the Marrow Part 12
part 1, prev part
The Chief walks into the hospital room the next day in full uniform. Pulling out his key ring and setting the key in the lock. The cuffs open, clacking against each other as he takes them back.
Eddie is free.
“I owe you an apology, I should have taken these off a long time ago.”
Wayne looks at the Chief, wondering if he should be grateful or angry. “Why happed with the feds?”
“They agreed to point the other way. Still looking for a fall guy, but it won’t be your nephew. I made sure of that.”
“Thank you.”
The Chief huffs. “Don’t be thanking me. You should thank Harrington, he really knocked some sense into my head.”
That seems to happen often. Through his actions, the way that he talks to people. The way that he’s respected Wayne’s boundary to leave him and Eddie alone. The way he cares for Dustin. Cares for Eddie even when Wayne didn’t want him too. Fought for the things he knew were true, never giving up.
Wayne really needed to talk to him.
“I hear he’s been getting better,” the Chief continues. Taking the seat next to Wayne.
Wayne nods. “Yeah, wakin’ up slowly. Should be able to talk again in a few days.”
The Chief nods. “I know I was really dragging my feet to get the cuffs off, but my offer still stands. If you need anything, feel free to give me a call. I still can’t tell you everything that happened, but as time goes on, you’re going to have a lot of questions. I can hopefully give you some answers. Lend a hand when you need me to.”
There’s going to be a lot of things that Wayne will never understand. Life has shown him that already. There were things that he didn’t understand before and learned to.
He can do it all again. Try to ignore the need for answers and try to understand. Have the patience he had when Eddie was younger. As he was learning how to be the person Eddie needed him to be.
“I appreciate that, Chief.”
“Please, just call me Jim.”
Jim leaves a little after that. Giving Wayne some space. He goes on a walk a little while later. Wanting some fresh air. Coming back to see Dustin heading down the hall, Steve sitting peacefully in the waiting room. Looking a hell of a lot better than yesterday.
“Can I talk to you?” Wayne sits down across from him. Ready to actually have a conversation with him for once.
Steve sits up a bit straighter, trying to make a better impression. “Yeah, sure.”
Wayne clears his throat. “I owe you an apology. You never gave me a reason to treat you the way I did and it was harsh of me to assume things about you. It’s not an excuse, but I was angry at a lot of things and seein’ you walk out of here fine while Eddie’s not. . . It was an easy thing for me to be mad at.”
“I don’t blame you. I think I would have reacted the same if it was my kid in Eddie’s position. You really have nothing to apologize for.”
“But I do,” Wayne insists. “You all clearly went through something that I don’t fully understand. I had no right to keep you from seeing him.”
Steve has a look a mix emotions. Like he’s fighting between gratitude and sorrow. “Would it be ok if I saw him now?”
Wayns nods. Walking down the hall with Steve to Eddie’s room, letting him sit in the chair next to him. He swears that he sees tears start to form in Steve’s eyes, but he blinks them away before he can confirm.
“Where’s the kid?” Wayne asks.
Steve clears his throat. “Visiting Max. She’s doing a lot better now.”
“That��s good.”
“He looks so different,” Steve says after a break of silence. “Like the energy of him was sucked out.”
Wayne nods, having felt the same way for a long time.
“I know I didn’t know him that long, but.” Steve takes a breath. “During that week, he was really starting to feel like someone who could become a friend. I was really looking forward to becoming his friend.”
“What happened to him?” Wayns asks, desperate. “What happened to you?”
Steve meets his eyes, a troubled look resting on his face. The want to tell him but the knowledge that he can’t. “I wish I could tell you, but I legally can’t. I know that probably doesn’t make it better.”
“It doesn’t. But I appreciate you trying.”
Dustin comes in and reads his chapter like he always does. Having to pull up another chair since Steve stole his. They leave shortly after it’s done. Giving Wayne a few minutes to himself before he has to leave for work.
He leans closer to Eddie’s bed, placing a hand on the empty bar. Afraid to touch him, to do anything to make him worse. But he hasn’t said much in the days he’s been here. Too hopeless to imagine that Eddie could hear him. Today, he decides to try.
“Hey, kid. I’m sorry that I haven’t talked to you much in the past week. You must think there’s somethin’ up. That you did somethin’ to make me not talk to you. That’s not the case.”
Fear like this is something that Wayne never wanted to experience. Losing a child is something that a parent never wanted to even think about. Let alone live through. And while Eddie isn’t technically Wayne’s kid, he is in all the ways that matter.
“Truth is, I was scared. I thought I lost you so many times in the past few weeks. Each time I came in here, I thought would be the day that the nurses told me you were really gone. That I lost my son.”
Words get choked in Wayne’s throat as tears fall down his face. Things he’s been too afraid to say all coming out at once.
“But I didn’t. You’re still here. And you’re gettin’ better and I am so proud of you.”
Eddie opens his eyes, looking toward Wayne. His fingers tense, raising slightly towards Wayne’s hand. Wayne places his hand on top of Eddie’s squeezing it tight.
“Nothin’ you could do could ever make me not proud of you.”
Note: I’m not crying, you’re crying. Jesus why do I do this to myself. Also this concludes chapter three, now posted on my ao3. Back to Dustin's POV in the next part
part 1, part 2. part 3. part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11
tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,
@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,
@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,
@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,
@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,
@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,
@devondepresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,
@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,
@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,
93 notes · View notes
Note
I just stumbled across your blog and I really love your headcanons! If you had the time, I was wondering if you could do the bachelors reacting to a mute farmer?
bachelors with a mute!farmer || headcanons
being mute isn't as hard when you have these considerate men around <3
warning: this is under the assumption that the reader cannot speak at all! all include sign language as a form of communication :) other warnings are that certain townies are VERY SLIGHTLY ableist (jodi, george). take this whole story with a grain of salt, as i am not mute! i tried my hardest, however, please let me know if something is wrong/offensive/just straight up stupid! i'd love to learn where i went wrong :)
requested by: anon, thank you so much for requesting! and i deeply apologize for the fact that this took around a year to come out ... oopsie daisy ... my stardew valley hyperfixation went bye bye but guess who's backkkk?? anyway! here you go, better late than never :)
Tumblr media
alex
• Alex honestly had no idea what to do when he realized that you were mute. He had no idea what to do, and you saw it on his face. He wanted to interact with you, you looked pretty interesting, but ... he had no idea where to start. So, you offered to teach him sign. He was surprised to see that you had that much faith in him, and he rejected initially, but ... he really wanted to have a new friend. It seemed like you were a genuine person, and he needed that in his life. So he did.
• You taught him sign, and this was probably one of the hardest things he's done. He believes he's not very bright, so he's incredibly nervous. But he works so hard for you! He didn't really know why he did, as you were just a new neighbor. Maybe you could be more? You could be a true friend! That's what he's looking forward to the most.
• As he began getting fluent and he learned more about you, the more he enjoyed being around you. Someone actively took a chance on him, and he's forever grateful. He opened up a lot to you, and you reassured him through all of it. He was the smartest person you knew because of how well he picked up sign ... he cried a little bit, although he really doesn't want to admit that.
• He realized how close you've gotten, and how his feelings haven't stopped growing for you. So, he had to do something about it! A soft, well-candlelit dinner was prepared for you, and he asked you out fully through sign! He had worked so hard on preparing a fully thought-out speech through sign for you ... it was so incredibly sweet. He really does love you.
• Alex was incredibly defensive of you, and would probably fight anyone who tried him. He even had several arguments with George. He wasn't the most supportive and definitely had some comments, especially since he literally couldn't see the sign ... but through Alex, he was convinced. Everything was fine, especially with Alex doing his best to convince those around him.
• Overall, Alex loves you and it shows. It shows through every piece of sign that he learns, every action that he does for you, and everything that he says to you and others. He adores every aspect of you, and he loves your bravery and your amazing soul. He can't get enough of you.
elliot
• Elliot is definitely a romantic, and when you didn't respond to his minor flirting, he was very confused. But when he realized you were mute, he dramatically gasped and apologized, basically dropping to his knees. He felt horrible, and promised to make it up to you.
• For a while, you talked back and forth through letters, since he was often stuck at home writing. He finds that he can write a lot more through his letters to you than he can his own book. Isn't that strange? He brings it up to you in one of his letters, and he eventually invites you over to his cabin. He bounces ideas for his book off of you, and strangely, it's so much easier to communicate with you ... how strange.
• He ends up learning sign for you in his free time, although it takes a while due to his busy schedule. He still prefers to write letters to you, it seems much more personal and definitely more romantic. He eloquently writes about his life and inquires you about yours.
• Elliot realizes that maybe this situation isn't just romantic to be romantic ... maybe there were feelings underneath, feelings that Elliot had never truly felt before. He ended up writing poetry about you, pages and pages. He can't get you out of his head! He had to let you know. You found out through a book of poetry sitting in your mailbox, and after reading through it, it was undeniable that it was about you. He was infatuated ... and so were you.
• He's incredibly protective of you, making sure to keep you out of harm's way as much as possible. If anyone were to say so much as one hateful word to you, he'd make a scene. With his dramatic flare, he'd declare them an imbecile and swoop you away to a safe place. It's in his nature, did you think anything less?
• Elliot'e romantic side has never been greater than with you. Romance and genuine feelings have always been apart in his mind, but they've both culminated in a beautiful love with you. He doesn't mind your muteness, he finds it beautiful and inspiring. You're his muse, of course.
harvey
• Harvey is incredibly understanding, and he tried his best to understand you as much as possible! He has no problem learning how to communicate with you and how to help you out as much as possible! He's the most understanding of your condition, and asks many questions about how and why you're this way. Not in a hateful way or anything, he just wants to understand you fully!
• As your doctor, he's definitely concerned for your health at first, but his nerves are calmed eventually. He slowly works toward getting to know you despite your condition, and he loosens up a little bit. He's so sweet and kind toward you, and he can't believe he's befriended someone as lovely as you.
• He opens up about his color blindness soon enough, and how debilitating it can seem. You bond over that, and he finds it easy to open up to you. He's used to being the listener, it's literally his profession, but it's nice to be listened to for once.
• Harvey realized this was a lot more than just a friendship, due to his heart racing when he's around you ... wow. He didn't expect this, and he really doesn't know how to act on it. But as you two hang out on the pier of the beach one night, he can't help but admire you instead of the stars. You notice, and he can't hide it anymore. He asks so nervously if you feel the same way he does. You answer with a gentle kiss on his cheek. He melts.
• He is very defensive of your condition, if someone says anything slightly derogatory, he will go off on a medical tangent. He justifies everything with an array of medical terms, enough to put anyone at a loss for words. Once Harvey silences the other person, he apologizes heavily, but still defends his love.
• Harvey loves you, and it shows through his concern for you and his deep affection for you. You're such an amazing and brave person, and he admires every bit of it. He admires you more than anything, and he would reshape the world if it meant to keep you safe.
sam
• Sam, despite his loud and energized nature, doesn't mind the fact that you're mute! He finds interacting with you regulating, in some kind of way. He has to calm down a bit to concentrate on communicating effectively with you. He enjoys talking to someone who has such a different viewpoint on life!
• Sam actually knew sign language before he met you! While in the war, Kent had sent a letter home that he had gone have deaf due to the constant noise of the war. Jodi then forced her family to learn sign language as soon as possible, so communicating with him was incredibly easy!
• Being able to actually use his sign language is actually pretty fun! He's very fluent, and he enjoys seeing your personality through your sign. He also enjoys your personality in general, how you overcome not speaking and your bravery. He finds that you both enjoy music, and it's a major bonding point between the two of you.
• Showing each other different songs that you enjoy was a staple of your hangout sessions. He finds those evenings the ones that he looks forward to the most, watching you smile and bop your head to the music. It's soft, it's sweet, it's ... lovely. As his feelings approach him, he can't get you out of his head ... his writer's block comes to an end. Eventually, he ends up playing a song for you. The love that he has for you is evident through the lyrics. And then ... a soft kiss as the song goes on, you would probably scream in joy if you could.
• His mom is ... not the most fond of you being mute. He doesn't really care, as he mostly just ignores her. He loves her but good god, her views ... so, he chooses your friendship more than anything. And when you two travel to something more, he chooses that over the relationship with his mother. She has a few passive aggressive comments, but she eventually gets over it enough to only give you a few side-eyes.
• Despite every hardship, Sam loves you. Every aspect of you is perfect in his eyes, and he wouldn't change anything about you. Sam adores your wonderful personality, despite not ever really hearing a voice behind your wonderful words. He doesn't care, you're you, and that's what matters.
sebastian
• Sebastian is the most quiet of all of the bachelors, so it makes sense that he would be naturally drawn to someone with a similar vibe. He doesn't mind the fact that you don't speak, and he finds ways to adjust.
• At first, he doesn't put too much effort into learning sign language to communicate. He doesn't see the reason why, you're just another person in town. But after Sam started speaking to you through sign language and you crossed paths more ... he decided to, why not?
• After talking to you, he realized that you have a lot in common. This makes him excited to finally have someone to relate to, and more and more, he asks you to hang out. Most of the time you end up doing things together in silence, but when you do talk, it's deep and personal.
• Falling for you was not his intention and came out of absolutely no where. He thought he was destined to spend the rest of his life shrouded in darkness, but this one quiet beam of light pulled him out of that. Huh. How odd. It took a lot of mutual pining for this to come to the surface, however. You called out that he accidentally used the sign for “I love you” when saying goodbye ... his pale face went bright red. Safe to say, you didn't say goodbye that evening. A long talk and a kiss goodnight, you two ended up together. As you should be.
• He doesn't really give the time of day to the people who don't understand you. A deep side eye and an aggressive sigh usually escape him, but he tells you not to worry about it. He shows you that he loves you no matter what, and “people fucking suck.”
• Sebastian relates heavily to you, and really loves you. He can't believe he's found someone who relates to him so well, but also has such a kind and genuine soul. He loves you more than life itself and enjoys your company more than anything on this planet.
shane
• Shane is probably the most guarded person in Stardew Valley, and it shows when he meets you. He could care less about you at first, pretty much ignoring your every movement. He doesn't really care that you're mute, he just doesn't care about you period. He's not really there yet, mentally.
• However, things change when you offer him a beer. He's confused by your kindness, and you can't really explain yourself because he doesn't understand sign. His curiosity is piqued. So, he asks Marnie if she knows any sign, and she refers him to Jodi, who eventually refers him to Sam. He hates the idea of having to work with Sam, but he can't help himself. He was too curious.
• After picking up a bit, he ends up offering you a beer in solidarity. He then thinks for a moment before showing the sign for beer. Your excitement warms his rather cold heart ... that's new. He just communicates by speaking, but he can read sign, so that seems like enough in his eyes.
• He finds it easy to talk to you, as you're such an interesting and perseverant person. It inspires him to begin working on himself. He pushes himself to work hard ... for you. Huh. Then, as if the sky was falling around him, he realized he was falling for you. He began pushing you away, until you basically cornered him at the bar. You took him to a private room where he rambled on about how perfect you were and how he was just going to ruin you. You eventually just signed “love ?” He looked like a scared child and just nodded. He signed “I love you” with shaking hands. But of course, so did you.
• His assholery is on full display when someone tries to come at you. He doesn't do it as eloquently or kind as some others, he just curses and insults until they shut their trap. They have no room to talk in his eyes.
• Despite his cold nature, Shane really does love you. He has no problems with your nature and sees it as a contrast to his own nature. He finds that enamoring and beautiful, unlike himself. He's working on himself, for you.
75 notes · View notes
envy-of-the-apple · 2 days
Note
ok i like the idea of reader going to shoko thinking she’s normal physician (not knowing she only works for sorcerers) and asks for a checkup. one thing leads to another and reader has to continue meeting her for ‘check-up’s’ frequently…..
how does it feel to be the smartest person in the room bestie????
@mynahx3 hiiiiiiiiii<3
Trust the Professionals
Dark!Ieiri Shoko x reader
Synopsis: Doctor Ieiri has a new treatment she’s eager to try on you
Word count: 2.2k
(Warnings: Dubcon/noncon, manipulation, vaginal fingering, dark content, mc's kinda dumb, self-gaslighting lmaooo, hospital kink? im pretty sure this is some type of kink but idk whats its called)
Tumblr media
For the longest time, you never really believed in ghosts.
You weren't really the religious type. You went to church every so often, but you weren't invested. It's why it took you a while to get around to the idea that spirits were real, and one was particularly attached to you.
Luckily, the Shamans always seemed happy to help.
"It's back again, huh?" Doctor Ieiri asked.
You nodded, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. She doesn't look like a Shaman. You were expecting more bells and bracelets. Traditional clothing. Doctor Ieiri was always dressed in a labcoat, professional makeup that did little to cover lack of sleep. She looks like she just fell out of a hospital drama.
Despite her looks, you knew she was pretty good at her job. She was the only person who'd gotten rid of your spirit problem. At least, for a little while.
You don't know what she meant exactly, but the spirit ("Cursed spirit," she corrected one too many times) was a replicator. It needed to be exorcised multiple times to fully disappear. This has been your third visit so far.
You watched as her eyes followed something right above your head. She hummed, leaning forward on the desk, tapping her perfectly manicured fingers.
"That's strange," she murmurs, "usually, by the third, it's gone."
You wilt at that. A part of you feels guilty for taking so much of the Doctor's time. All of the appointments so far had been free, but you wouldn't blame her if she started asking for payment, or if she turned you away completely.
She straightens her back.
"Clearly, regular exorcisms aren't working." She states the obvious. "So far, they've just been a temporary fix. There's one more thing we could try but..."
For the first time since you've seen her, Doctor Ieiri hesitates. You look at her.
"Not many prefer this procedure." She explains. "It's a little...unorthodox."
Her reluctance should give you a warning, but you've already spent days putting off this appointment, willing for your cursed problem to go away, spending hours tossing and turning in bed, feeling something crawling up your back with too many legs and too many teeth.
"Anything." You say. "Anything to make this go away."
There's a glint in her eye. Something not quite a smile tugs on her face before it's gone. She stands up, prompting you to do the same. In her hands is a neatly folded hospital gown.
"You can put your clothes over there." She mentions to a chair. "Including your undergarments, please."
She must notice your discomfort because her tone becomes less clinical.
"We can stop whenever you want." She tells you. "But stopping in the middle is typically discouraged. Curses are pretty fickle."
You nod. "Okay, Doctor."
"Please, just call me Shoko." She gives a tired smile. "I want you to be as comfortable as possible for this."
You don't feel comfortable calling her by her given name, but Ieir-Shoko looks so pleased when you let her name reluctantly leave your lips, and you feel too bad to retort.
She steps out of the room shortly after handing you the gown. You put your clothes on the chair, she pointed out. When Shoko knocks, you're already seated on the examination table, swathed in the the thin fabric.
"You follow directions well." She's wearing a surgical mask now but looks satisfied with your compliance. You give a shy smile.
"Let's start with a general overlook for now." She says. "It'd be helpful if we can pinpoint where the curse originated."
You nod, but you can't push away the nervousness as Shoko gently pushes past the fabric. She's wearing gloves, but the rubber is a flimsy barrier to her warm fingers. Her hands brush past your clavicle, and the plastic gown easily yields for her touch. You gasp when she touches your tits, fingers lightly brushing over the nipple. The room is so cold. You're so sensitive. You stiffen against her touch.
She notices, pulling back to see your face. "Something wrong?"
"Uh, no." You smile, but it feels watery. "Just nerves." You can't read her expression. The mask hides everything.
She hums, and you're grateful she doesn't comment on how jittery you are. You hold in your reaction when she lightly presses on your breast. Her thumb flicks over your nipple again. You'd call it sensual if you weren't thoroughly convinced that Shoko was a professional and you were the weird one here.
She pulls away eventually, and you sag in relief. It was over. You don't think you could do that again.
"It's not coming from your upper body." Shoko murmurs. "Would you mind if I untied your gown? It'll be better if I can see everything."
You hesitate, unsure, but Shoko's previous words make your rejection waver. Curses are fickle creatures. In the end, you let her unwrap the gown.
There's no real point to it now. You're fully displayed on the examination table, legs spread, leaning back on your hands. It's embarrassing. You can feel yourself heat up at how exposed you are, especially considering Shoko is still wearing her lab coat and that mask.
But Shoko says nothing about it. Right, she's a professional. Instead, she starts pulling off her gloves.
"I'll be able to locate the cursed location more effectively without a barrier." She explains and you nod along.
She starts with your foot, gently squeezing your foot. It feels nice, like a massage. You languish in the touch, only getting concerned when her prodding starts going up her calf.
Shoko rubs circles along your inner calf. Something wells within you, but you're pushing it down because Shoko is a professional. Instead, you lift yourself off the table just to feel more in control.
"Not here either," Shoko murmurs to herself. "Maybe I need to go a little deeper."
Your eyes widen when she rests a single finger at the entrance of your pussy.
"Doctor, I—I don't think that's—" with one motion, she buries her finger inside you.
You're already shamefully wet. Your walls are already clenching down her nimble finger. You can't help it, you shudder, giving out a breathy whine.
"Sorry, what were you saying?" For some reason, you can hear a smile in Shoko's voice as she starts pumping her finger in and out of your sopping pussy. "You can talk. I'm great at multitasking."
"I—I was just saying—saying Doctor, you—" Her finger curls, and you are interrupted by another moan.
"Shoko." She reminds you her voice firm and calm and a total juxtaposition to the way her thumb is circling over your sensitive clit. "I want you to stay calm and relaxed throughout this procedure, okay?"
"Shoko." You keen and you're sure her breath hitches but your brain is numb and she's still wearing that mask. "This—This just feels a—a bit strange and I—"
She coos in sympathy. "It's all part of the process. Just relax, okay? You're doing so well for me."
At this point, you're leaning back on your elbows. The new angle jolts pleasure up and down your spine. It gets even worse when Shoko adds a second finger, stretching your sensitive walls out even further.
"I think the curse is getting closer. We're almost there." Her voice is soft and breathy in your ear and you can hardly understand that she's taken off her mask. "Just a little more. Just a bit further. So so good for me. You're doing so well, baby."
Your orgasm hits you like a train. All at once, you seize up on her fingers, your thighs squeezing together and your moan resembles more of a scream than anything human. Shoko keeps going as the orgasm smashes your broken body like grass.
She stops when you give one last shudder before collapsing onto the examination table. You lie there, breasts heaving, eyes glazed. You're so far out of it that you don't even notice the way she licks her wet fingers.
It takes a few seconds for you to gather your bearings. When you do, you're mortified. You shoot up from the table, covering yourself up with the flimsy gown, ready to apologize when Shoko asks:
"How do you feel?"
It's such an innocent question. It takes you off-guard. Sensitive, is your first answer, but then you think some more and you realize that you can't really feel the dread or the weight on your shoulders anymore.
"You...exorcised it?" No, this felt different from the last two exorcisms she performed on you. Now, you feel five years younger.
She grins, pleased.
"Yes. I found the origin point." She explains. "Even if it ever comes back, it'll be smaller and easier to deal with."
You nod, still recovering from your high as you roll your shoulder. Everything feels so good.
"Wow," you say, "I—thank you! Thank you so much!"
She pulls back, accepting your gratitude with a soft expression.
"We're done for today." She tells you at last. "You're free to put on your clothes. Can't imagine that gown is very comfortable."
You wait for her to leave. She doesn't, sitting back behind her desk, typing away at her computer. There's no real point of you having privacy, is there? After all, you basically just showed her everything.
Still, when you go to put on your clothes, you can feel eyes on you, trailing down your body, your ass. It isn't Shoko. She's always busy with her keyboard, diligent as always. You were feeling things.
One garment was missing, however. As discreetly as you could, you searched around for it, glancing at the floor, underneath the chair. You swore you left it with the other clothes. How could it just disappear?
"Something wrong?"
Shoko's peering up at you, head tilted. You open your mouth. But then you decide they aren't worth the further embarrassment.
"Nothing." You give a nervous grin. "Just nothing."
Shoko can still taste you when Satoru visits her hours after your appointment.
"Get out," she says. Satoru just grins, shutting the door behind him. It was worth a shot.
"I see your favorite little patient had another check-up," he says, "still haven't disclosed we aren't exactly in the personal exorcism business, have ya'?"
Shoko shrugs. "It's a personal project. Don't worry about it."
"Right, you say that buuuuut 'can't help but notice that our lovely non-sorcerer still has a curse swimming around—"Satoru clicks his tongue. "—It's fourth grade, too. This deskwork is making you go soft, Shoko. Maybe I should start dragging you out to missions."
"Did you exorcise it?" Ugh, that would be a pain. Shoko spent so long cultivating that curse to work in her favor.
Gojo grins. "Nah."
"A residual curse." Satoru continues. "Harmless, but pesky enough to be noticed if it isn't dealt with in a couple days. Smart."
By Saturday, to be more exact. Shoko has already cleared her schedule. She can already hear your voice crackling through the phone, sweetly apologizing for such short notice, but would it be possible to book an appointment? She won't tell you that, nor will she tell Satoru. Though, she has a feeling the bastard already knows.
Said bastard is rifling through her drawers. She frowns when he pulls out your panties.
"Aw, these are so cute!" Satoru gushes, shamefully twirling the fabric on his finger. "Are you starting a collection? This some kind of trophy? Hey, I don't judge."
"It's wrong to take things without permission," Shoko says.
"I should be telling you that." Satoru grins. "Y'know, our precious non-sorcerer is kinda' cute. Maybe I should pay a visit—"
Shoko bolts up from her chair. She stares at him. Gojo stops playing with the frills. He's still smiling.
"Easy, easy." He says, but he hands her the fabric anyway. "Damn, I had a feeling, but you're whipped for this one, are n'tcha? Do I hear wedding bells?"
She rolls her eyes. "Get out."
He obliges with a snicker, proving that he only came to mess with her. What did she expect? With a sigh, she collapses back onto her seat.
She dangles your panties in one hand. She refuses to sniff them again, even though your taste and your smell are still swirling around in her head. They must have looked so cute on you. Next time, she'll put cameras in the room, just so she can have a playback of you shyly shucking off your clothes before compliantly slipping on the gown. She wouldn't know what would be more tantalizing to watch; the show or your utter obedience.
Satoru was, unfortunately, right. Shoko was crazy for you, even though you clearly didn't carry the same feelings. That's okay. In this line of work, Shoko knows she has to take what she wants, that letting her desires go is for those like Satoru.
So Shoko will lie and coax and manipulate until you're seated pliantly in her grasp. And maybe if Satoru behaves, he'll get a wedding invite.
And if you still don't yield...well, there's always plan B.
135 notes · View notes
dronebiscuitbat · 2 days
Text
Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 12)
It took a lot of convincing to make N go home after that, too busy fretting over her to look at the time and his own needs for oil.
But eventually, with a promise to see him in the morning with their planned visit to Tera, he reluctantly made the journey home, the vision of Uzi injured and terrified stained in his permanent memory as he flew back to the spire.
He wanted to protect her, he ached to in a way he wasn't sure until today he was capable of. It was overwhelming, how badly he felt the need to. He'd felt like this before, at the manor, over V, and over Cyn, but at that time the only thing he could do for either of them was take the punishment meant for them on himself.
If Tessa hadn't been so good with machines, he was certain he wouldn't be around today to spend time thinking about it.
But Now? He unsheathed his claws and flexed them, and felt his wings on his back.
He had everything he could ever need to protect her, armed until his chassis was overcrowded with weaponry. Made for killing as quickly and as brutally as possible.
That made no difference when the thing that was threatening her was part of her. It wasn't something he could kill, or threaten or scare off. So how?
He didn't know. He didn't even know if it was possible. But he was going to try.
Those thoughts lingered when he flew directly into his nest, not even taking the time to say hello to V before crashing into it. He likely wouldn't get any sleep, despite how tired he felt. Screw getting oil, he'd had enough to get by for another day at least.
“What's got you in a mood?” V's voice wafted towards him, she sat on the edge of his nest, looking both curious and annoyed. Her stilt-like legs hung over the side and her hand was holding her face, looking mildly bored.
He was absolutely not in the mood.
“Since when do you care?” He barked back, crossing his arms and glaring at her in a quite convincing impression of Uzi. V looked taken aback for a moment before smirking.
“Purple Thing's rubbing off on you.”
He felt the heat rising to his visor, he could almost taste the “Bite me.” that threatened to fall from his mouth, but that would only prove her point, wouldn't it?
“Just…” He deflated, he wasn't angry at V, not really. Just upset at himself for being unable to protect his best freind possibly love of his life for the umpteenth time. “Leave me alone tonight V. You don't want to talk to me anyway.”
If he'd been looking at her, he would have seen her wince at that before looking a little bit guilty.
“Normally, No I don't.” V said, although something in her voice told N that she wasn't entirely telling the truth. “But I don't think I've seen you this upset before.”
He was uncharacteristically silent before he turned to her, searching her face for some resemblance of the girl back at the manor, and was mildly surprised when he found it her eyes were soft.
“I'm useless…” He murmured. Avoiding her gaze, feeling… not butterflies but definitely something as old and familiar, rise into his core.
V… didn't know how to respond to that. Any other day she'd agree and make fun of him, but hearing him say it about himself and mean it. Seemed to momentarily turn off that part of her brain.
“For what?” She asked, she refused to show any kind of weakness to him, voice still having bite.
“I don't know! Everything!” He stood up suddenly, throwing his hands forward in a display of utter frustration, something V was noticing him expressing more of recently. No longer was he N the doormat, he was N, the guy who called her out and was starting to speak his mind.
Some part of her was happy for him. Not that she'd ever admit it to him.
“I can't protect Uzi, I couldn't protect you, I live in a mound of freaking corpses! Corpses! This isn't a house V! We're essentially homeless!”
“I'm useless! I've always been…” He deflated again as he trailed off, anger shifting into quiet misery. He leaned his head on one of the walls of the spire.
“Ugh. Stop.” V said, annoyed.
“For the record. I can protect myself.” She proved it by unsheathing her claws and giving him a feral smile. He wasn't fazed, that had been V's default expression for a long while now.
“And I'm pretty sure your little purple girlfriend can too. She's not fragile. If you want proof go look at J's empty nest.” He didn't even register she'd said “girlfriend” only continued to wallow in his sorrow.
“So it doesn't matter if you're useless at that. Those bases are already covered.” She shrugged, smirking again, but it gradually left her face as she realized he still didn't look like he felt any better. He grumbled at her, sitting back down. Clearly still in misery.
“And if living here bothers you so much, move out!” She shouted, and that caught his attention. He shifted his gaze to look at her, cocking it like a curious puppy.
“I promised I'd always be there for you…” His voice was so quiet she'd barely registered it, but once she did she felt all her processors stop at once, an old yet familiar feeling rising in her chest.
She answered it with violence, growling like a feral cat until it was buried in her once again. No. She didn't feel that way about him, not anymore.
“That was years ago. I'm not…” She trailed off, she remembered how terrified she used to be and how powerless she was. N had been the only good thing the manor had ever offered her. And while she didn't feel the same way she used to about him (stupid in love) it wasn't like she wasn't appreciative. Or that she didn't care.
“I'm not the same terrified little girl you need to protect anymore. I've changed.”
“I know you have…” She dared to glance at his face and found some part of her aggression instantly melting, he was smiling softly at her, reminecent of their time at the manor and yet not quite the same.
“I'm… proud of you. You know?” He choked out, something that surprised even himself. He looked down for a moment, thinking more about his words before meeting her eyes again.
“You don't need me anymore, and yeah that hurt for awhile. But… I am proud.”
V had to look away, feeling something bittersweet crawl up her throat. She wasn't about to cry was she?
“I just wish you didn't feel like you had to close yourself off. I do miss talking to you.”
This conversation had gone a very different direction then either of them expected, and it was probably the longest one they'd had in a very long time.
V didn't have a response for that, at least not one that wouldn't completely ruin any semblance of self respect she had. But she didn't want to just say nothing. It had been nice… to hear that from him.
“I don't need that from you.” She said, aggression trying and failing to lace her voice. His face fell a little, and she felt the pang of guilt hit her harder than usual.
“But me too.” She said softly, and N couldn't help but smile. For a moment just a moment, he heard that sweet girl from the manor again, the one who's eyes lit up whenever she saw him and he'd spent many nights huddled under a blanket with, reading a stolen book from the library.
They made eye contact and V found herself blushing, not because of any lingering feelings, but because she'd been vulnerable and was still vulnerable and she didn't like it.
He warily opened his arms, silently asking if she wanted a hug. It wasn't the usual, “please hug me, I like you.” Kind she'd come to expect from him either, it was… more familial, less urgent.
Maybe that was why she crawled toward him and accepted, wrapping her arms around him loosely. She remembered being wrapped in his arms before, it had made her feel so safe. And it still did. Just… not in the same way.
“I really did miss you… you still into reptiles?” He asked softly, making a genuine laugh escape her before she answered.
“Yeah.” Was all she replied with, hiding her smile by looking away. This felt good. This felt right, and it lacked the weird tension that had lingered between them for a long time.
It only took another minute before she decided that the hug had reached it's end. N would cuddle with anyone who'd let him, and so she started to back away far enough to get out of his reach, but still sat beside him.
“If it really does bother you… you can move out.”
“I might, if I do though, would you want to too?” He asked, still looking at her, thankfully he didn't look as upset, still smiling softly.
“Like… with you…? N I thought we were-”
“No. Like, just out of here, in your own apartment. Like the one Uzi has.” He clarified, without any stammering either, so he wasn't covering his ass in a unsubtle confession.
“Am I even welcome there?” She asked, pure confusion on her face.
“I mean, you go to see Lizzy all the time. Why wouldn't you be?” With that she did blush, she hadn't realized he'd noticed her gone that much. Was she gone that much?
“I guess. The tower of corpses is menacing though… think they'd let me drag some of it in?” She gave him a feral smile, both hands switched back into claws, N just looked deadpan.
“Do not.”
She laughed, taking a liking to the fact he wasn’t all fun and games now. It made him more interesting, at the very least.
“What? Are you gonna stop me? Aren't you a lovable little sweetheart who's so worried about. “Protecting Me?”” She fluttered her eyelashes at him, sealing the mock with exaggerated kissy lips.
“I swear to robo god…” He mumbled under his breath, but he was amused, and happy oh so happy that she was talking to him. And being goofy! Wasn't that a sight.
“I don't sound like that.” He complained, but he was smiling, begrudgingly. For whatever reason it didn't sting as bad as her usual mocks.
“You do. If it makes you feel better, purple thing likes that about you~” V was satisfied, N felt better and honestly, she felt closer to him then she had in a long while, so falling back into teasing the life out of him felt safe to do.
He flustered, way more than she figured he would. A golden blush appearing at the bottom of his visor. She saw him glance to the floor and he gulped.
Oh
Oh
“Oh my robo god. You have a crush on her!” She cackled, letting out a wheeze as his blush only grew, he tried to look angry again, but it only made him look pouty.
“No! I-I Don't!” He stammered out, voice cracking like the liar he was. V continued to die of laugher, using her claws to dig into the wall of the spire to hold herself up.
“W-when did you. OH haHaha. When did this happen?!”
“It just sorta happened okay!” He yelped out, looking so embarrassed she was a little concerned he would bury himself in the corpse spire.
“Figures, she's you're type.” She finished, still laughing lightly. Honestly she saw a lot of herself in Uzi (yes she did actually know her name) her fiery personality tended to make them butt heads, but the little worker had a sweet side. And that was the side she assumed he'd fallen for.
“Wait Wait, don't tell me. Is she really shy around you? Does she let you cuddle with her? Do you make her feel safe?”
He blinked, how did V-?
“HA! You totally do have a type!” She dissolved into a fit of hysterical laughter. Watching as N looked at her with wide eyes.
“What do you mean by that?” He squealed, trying to think back, the only other person he'd ever had a crush on was the one currently laughing at him. But she wasn't shy, didn't let him cuddle her, and he seriously doubted she felt any safer with him then with her own claws. So what gives?
Well… she was shy at the manor, always more soft spoken and seemed to avoid speaking when she could. Plus all the little blushing, and then… well… they did often crawl under the blankets together, sometimes falling asleep in a heap until Tessa or J woke them up. And he'd been bigger than her then… always keeping her safe.
Oh
Oh
“Oh…” Was all he said, feeling the fluster even worse now. Crap did… did he really have this specific of a type?
“Uzi isn't shy! She's determined! And fiery!” He defended himself, while also convincing himself that he wasn't that predictable.
“That's true. But how is she with you~?” She asked teasingly, as if she already knew the answer.
Soft was the first thought. Sweet was the second.
Oh come on.
“Bite me!” He yelped before clasping his hand over his mouth. Blushing furiously. If anything V howled in laughter, digital tears pouring down her visor.
“Awww. The soft boy has a thing for soft girls~” She teased again, watching as N became more and more flustered.
“V!” He shouted, so what if he did?! It didn't give her the right to tease him about it. He liked feeling soft. It was comfortable. And it wasn't like he didn't like all the other aspects of her too!
“That's not- There's other things I like about her!”
“Oh? Does she look good in a little maid outfit?”
He kinda wanted to see that.
No. Don't prove her right!
“She's really smart, and brave. She always has a plan and… she's so strong.” His voice lightened up a bit, getting lost in it for a moment.
At that V ceased her laughter a little bit, she could keep teasing him telling him that “She was all those things too.” But at this point she'd had her fun. And wasn't all that interested in listening to him swoon over her.
“Alright, Alright… You totally wanna see her in a maid outfit though.”
“V!”
67 notes · View notes
san8ny · 4 hours
Text
Knee Socks.
an: i got like 2 other works lined up, but here’s some slowburn, emphasis on burn; the smallesttt of nsfw at the end by ellie; ARCTIC MONKEYS REFERENCE?!
Ellie's gaze involuntarily flicks downwards, her eyes taking in the sight of your shorts riding up your thighs. She's mesmerized by the softness of skin, the curves of your body, the way you’re innocently watching the show— you, who was unaware of the perverse heat Ellie was supressing herself, rubbing her olive toned thighs together in an uncomfortable manner.
She wants to reach out and touch, but she knows that's the last thing she should be thinking about. She's already a mess of emotions as it is, and adding desire to the mix would only make things worse. Surely it wasn’t her fault to think like this?
"Are you comfortable?" Ellie rasps out, unable to help herself from asking the question, who wouldn’t? A pretty girl sprawled on her comically animated bedsheets, her plain black work shorts hugging her upper thighs, revealing soft inner-thigh pudge with little stickers of celllulite,
“uh-huh” you reply back sweetly, looking over your shoulder to where Ellie sits against the pillows near the headboard while you’re layed on your stomach near the foot of the bed, I’ll get a better view here you’d told her earlier when you two got back from work and began hanging out at her place. Oh, did she mention you two met eachother at work?
She still remembers the way she would follow you around everywhere when you were showing her around the place, teaching her the ropes. Ah, make sure you don’t get here thaaat late, ‘aight? Manager is pretty chill but she’s kinda bitchy during rush mornings, you’d said with warm eyes and a downturned smile right before walking away.
"Good," Ellie replies quietly, now being brought back to where you two currently lazed on her comforter. She can't help but also notice how your shirt has ridden up slightly, revealing the ittiest sliver of your lower back. She sucks in a sharp breath, her eyes glued to the exposed skin. She wants to trace her fingers over the soft expanse of flesh, but she forces herself to stay still.
“When are they gonna kiss already?” You exclaim clearly edged on from the show, your elbows giving up as you face-fall fully onto the bed now; the fabric of your shirt slightly twists around your waist, “All this talk is making me wanna sleep.” you say muffled into the bed,
The said bed creaks ever so slightly as Ellie scoots forward, “That eager to see people make-out? Crazyyy..” She snorts, finding her hands lightly beginning to massage at your calves.
You melt into the touch, airily giggling as you back up into her alittle; it wasn’t uncommon for you two to massage each other after a long shift yall worked, We’ll save money you told eachother that day.
propping your head up, you lay it on folded forearms instead, the attention on the show is long-gone; all that could really be focused on was how skilled the auburnette was as she kneaded at tensed muscles; Had the temperature gone up? You groan when her hands roam up your thigh, now making their mark at somewhere that had been sore for time, a slightly healed injury you’d gotten during an accident at work where you pulled a muscle,
“Yeah? Right ‘ere?” She mumbles to you, readjusting her position on the bed to slightly hover over the back of your hips as she works deep circles into place you hadn’t even thought were knotted, “Mhm..” you hum back, glossy orbs now closed as you enjoy the sensational warmth that came over your body. God, she was a pro.
Ellie’s hands now began to climb to your hips, her thumbs drawing figure 8’s with the rest of her digits tightening a grip on your sides for a moment before letting them go in short pulses. By now, her face was lined up with the back of your neck, slight hairs standing up as she lightly blows at it; a cheshire smile on her stretched lips when she notices the scrunch inbetween your brows. She wanted you to feel this as much as she was,
“Feels s’good Els..” You sigh contentedly, fluttering your eyes open and turning your head slightly to the side as you look to where she was above you, her upper body fully now pressing, and laid on your back by now.
Ellie’s face was lightly flushed, canines biting down on her rosey, chapped bottom lip as they drew slight blood; How could feeling you up feel so good for her if she wasn’t even the one feeling it? The sight brought a small smile to you as you sat up, Ellie now seeing the initiative to sit back down on her haunches rather than her knees, and not on you importantly. You slightly lean in, brushing her slightly sweaty bangs away from her forehead; “Thank you for that. I really needed it.” You gently say, cupping her cheek before dropping it down to grab your phone, looking at the device,
“Ugh, ‘almost 12, I gotta get going. See you tomorrow at work?”
Ellie doesn’t even realize how dazed she looks before running a clammy hand down face in an attempt to wake herself up, “Yeah, yeah. I’ll pick you up actually.”
You nod as you two make yourselves out of her dark room, and into the dimly lit hallway, towards the front door, “Okay! Bye Ellie, I had fun by the way!.” is what you tell her as you skip over to your car.
She doesn’t even say a ‘bye’ back before hastingly slamming the entrance shut, sliding down the door as she buries her face in her once balled up palms; she spreads her thighs slowly, noticing the growing wet spot on her shorts as it dawns on her what just has happened.
You had her so fucked up.
65 notes · View notes