#the best fucking fic dammit
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me, whilst reading the unbroken & the faithless: oh, touraine, you idiot (fondly).
#halfway through faithless rn. but when i tell you i consumed the unbroken in a day i'm not lying (saturday)#and i forced myself to only spend half a day reading faithless (sunday) which is why it's only half done#but good lordt it's so fucking GOOD#and i ship them so hard dammit#some good shit right here yall#i've been reading a LOT this year (actual books. i actually havent read any fic this year. it's weird)#and yeah. the jasmine throne / oleander sword & the unbroken / the faithless. just fucking another level of exactly what i want#now just give me those third books dammit!!#duck reads#i think that was the tag#to be clear: i totally understand WHY touraine does the things she does. completely justified. but oh darling.#she's perfect actually. you know? in the context of everything. just the perfect way to understand#(but also so is luca in her own way)#my two fuck ups just trying to do their best damnit#gods it's GORGEOUS and ANGSTY in the most beautiful of ways
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Just finished binge watching all of She-Ra for the first time,,,,think I’m gonna kill myself now because nothing will ever bring me this much amount of joy and warmth and giddiness ever,,,,,EVER
#she ra#IM SO MAD AT MYSELF FOR NOT WATCHING THIS SHOW WHEN IT WAS ACTIVE#WHAT THE FUCK AM I GONNA DO NOW#I feel lied to why did NONE OF YOU inform me of how magnificent this show was and how empty I would feel after finishing it#AND DONT GET ME STARTED ON#catradora#I NEED MORE OF THEM AND KNOWING IM NOT GONNA GET IT MAKES ME WANT TO DIE#THAT FUCKING FLASH-FORWARD SCENE WITH CATRA WEARING THAT CAPE THINGY AND ADORA WITH HER HAIR DOWN????#god fucking dammit#i want to cry#it was a satisfying ending I just wish it didn’t have to end#anyways send me all your fav and best catradora fics right NEOW#brb gonna maladaptive daydream to music as I think about this show and it’s marvelous characters
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thinking about how lonnie only ever cared about will when he died and that was just to profit off of his death + will giving a girl he doesn't know his toy truck just because she's crying and he thinks she needs it more even if he knows joyce can't buy him another one + one of the very first things will did upon waking up in the hospital was ask if jonathan was okay + will telling them to close the gate in season two even though he's part of the hivemind and that would've killed him, too + will breaking his own heart by confessing his feelings and giving mike the painting he's spent so long on but saying that all of it came from el thus sacrificing his own wants and self to again help others + how that same selflessness and self-sacrificing nature of his is going to undoubtedly rear its head in season five again because he's at the center of it all and it all goes back to him and vecna is a creature that feeds off of n fans the flames of pain and guilt... feelin very scared n anxious in this chili's tonight over this actually 😳
#he is NOT going to die obviously clearly we know this they're not killing kids#BUT.#i'm just saying.... i don't think it would be crazy for him to feel guilty and like maybe this wouldn't have happened if...#well... u kno.. :(#he would never give up bc that's literally his whole thing that he's a fighter and a survivor#but. he does love his friends and his family. and he has been willing to die if it meant saving them before so like. yanno.#BUT IT WON'T HAPPEN I'M JUST SAYING THE ANGST IS LIKELY GOING TO BE THERE#AND THEN OFC EVERYONE IS GOING TO BE LIKE ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY WILLIAM SHUT UP SIT DOWN AND GO TO TIME OUT#and then we'll get some good n scrumptious hurt/comfort ok no one stone me i'm knocking on wood ok i Kno#just imagine will proposing that and everyone immediately says NO and mike especially gets pissed#because he's SICK and TIRED of fucking losing will every single time he thinks he's got him back#and god dammit he's already seen what life is like without will there he's not going to do it again he's NOT#don't go where i can't follow + crazy together + it was the best thing i've ever done + it's hawkins it's not the same without you#versus closegate + el commissioned it + she needs you and she always will#mike who is clutching onto will for dear life unwilling to let him go and will who is all too willing to#walk through the gates of hell if it means saving everyone he's ever loved and putting them out of their misery#but of course there's a better plan and letting will die is like killing a puppy it's like taking a sledgehammer to the foundation of#everything yanno. without heart we'd all fall apart n u can't beat the darkness without the light#anyway. can u tell i'm procrastinating editing my fic rn n thats why im writing epic poems in these tags <3#mine
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“‘Jesus blessed me with you,’ Luke opened his mouth momentarily, twisted blue Hubba Bubba in a knot around his velvet tongue. Ashton nearly lost his breath, but he was strong.
“‘No, I don’t want to fall in love’
“The song continued. Ashton kissed Luke upside down. The boy let his head lull off the end of the bed, but their mouths easily melted together. That sticky, sugary bubblegum stuck between Ashton's teeth, and he bit down to tug it. With a suck, he claimed the remnants off of Luke’s tongue, blowing a bubble in the empty space in-between them.
“Luke whined.
“‘Then who blessed me with this hot bed of sin in my arms right now, eh Lukey?’ Ashton’s warm arms covered the length of Luke’s body, eroding the sea of dress with him.”
—Bottom Boy Baptism by @plushyluke on AO3
#I am OBSESSED with this still#I cannot stop thinking of this FUCKING fic#I thought the other one was my favorite but god DAMMIT#This one is my favorite of all time#the best fic of all time godddddd#b^3#bottom boy baptism#gay 5sos#bottom Luke fic#Lashton fic#plushyluke#scholarly#luke hemmings#lrh#ashton irwin#afi#lashton#5sos#calum hood#cth#michael clifford#mgc
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Im so sad sometimes that Agent Carter is such a small fandom cause a few times a year I'm like "I need to consume more content about this one episode" so I check ao3 and there are literally 9 fics from that episode and none newer than 2020
#it's the iron ceiling#I just need more fics about Peggy and the commandos#also jacks internal thoughts and stuff in the episode#also just like Peggy being an absolute mother fucking badass#and jack realizing it and the commandos being like yeah we know#she's the best out of all of us#Peggy being super relaxed around the commandos like she never is in ny#her living and breathing for the adventure and conflict#Agent Carter#I want more war stories that the commandos tell that jacks just floored by#just Peggy laughing and enjoying herself with the commandos#I NEED MORE DAMMIT#tea talks
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▸ I'LL MEET YOU FOREVER IN THIS MEMORY. - GOJO SATORU. forbes30!gojo
synopsis: he'll argue it's fate — a divine moment — that he's always in your proximity, and you call it bullshit. he says his class was in the same building, panting with a sweat pebbling on his forehead, yet you've seen him run across campus just couple minutes prior as he awkwardly stood in front of you. he's a man on a mission, determined to succeed. to have you finally fall for him.
content: wc: 6.6 k (sigh), fluff, light cursing, uses of she/her to align with the original au but the fic can be read without it. reader lovingly calls him stupid for one part and is shorter than him because the man is canonically tall af. petnames (babe, sweetheart, angel). slight nsfw towards the end, Gojo calls himself daddy in one scene just for jokes. college forbes30!gojo !!
There was nothing but the sound of chalk hitting the board, the frustrated sighs of students trying to keep up, and the monotonous tone of Takashi sensei talking that filled the lecture hall.
Students hastily typed on their electronics, while others chose to go old-fashioned with simple pen and paper.
But for Gojo Satoru, none of that mattered, really.
11:47.
Impatiently shaking his legs, his body just barely fitting in the cramped seat, uncaring if the attendant in front of him sent multiple glares for his crude manner of bumping his knees against the back — why the hell were these spaces always so damn cramped?
Satoru released another long sigh as he clicked open his phone to check the time, again.
Infuriatingly, it was still fucking 11:47.
It'll take me about six minutes to get to the quad, and another five to make it to the east building...
“Dammit,” Satoru cursed, his supposed whisper radiating a bit too loudly throughout the silent hall as he slumped further into his seat groaning as his impatience imbued his mind with thoughts.
One more minute and it’ll be just enough time to make it over —
“Gojo-kun,” releasing an annoyed sigh, “would you mind sharing with the class what could’ve gotten you so possibly worked up today?” his professor questioned without even turning his back to look at who just so rudely interrupted his class — again.
What excuse should I make today? Maybe I can leave now and act as if —
“Gojo-kun?” The professor's voice laced with irritation as he put the chalk down, the click of the powder hitting the rail echoed throughout the auditorium — no one dared to speak a word — not especially when the semester was so close to ending.
“Can you answer this question because you seem to be awfully more interested in something else rather than studying for your exam tomorrow?”
maybe I can ask her to study for finals? Oh, that’s good… I can show how studious and dependable I am, and then maybe she’ll fall for me. Goddamn call me a genius! But wait — fuck, I can’t use that because —
“Satoru, uh… sensei's coming,” Gojo felt a nudge on his side, his colleague nervously squirming in his seat, whispering to get his attention but yet it went unacknowledged — far over Satoru’s head — surely, the man currently had other priorities than to be rotting in business calculus.
Business calculus… the bane of his existence, his utter torture of attending every session, a complete fifty minutes wasted three times a week just for him to sit there and ponder about something else — most of the time, it was him getting antsy to get to you.
It was much to everyone’s surprise that he even went to all his lectures — the one student no one ever expects to have perfect attendance for a class he gives two shits about — well, he does give a shit because it’s all for his plan.
….
“So tell me why you’re trying to take this class?” His best friend glanced over Satoru’s shoulder.
“Don’t bother me, I can’t multi-task,” Gojo murmured, ignoring his raven hair friend as he lightly bit his lips, furiously typing up his course number into the system, his back hunched as he anxiously stared at his loading computer screen, “never thought getting a class would be so stressful," Satoru groaned.
“Why are you so stressed, it’s unlike you,” Geto’s voice was serene, “and what other dumb shit are you up to?” he chuckled while taking a sip of his coffee.
“It’s not dumb,” Satoru shot back.
“You tested out of calculus, Satoru.”
“So what?” he grumbled — just a couple seconds more…
Geto didn’t quite understand why Gojo had to go to such lengths, completely acting out of his character as he pitifully waited for his screen to load.
He’d never seen his friend so riled up about something so simple. The last time Satoru got like this was a couple of years back when a small pastry shop he searched online closed an hour before they got there. His defeat and whines were understandable since the trip took three hours by train.
But this… yea, Suguru couldn’t quite put a finger on it… well not until a very minor dialogue he had with a certain someone, such small talk that even he forgot that it occurred a semester prior.
“Are you by chance doing this because —”
Cutting him off, “fuck…” was all Suguru heard as his best friend rested his forehead on his arm, body slumping from the adrenal fatigue.
In bold, a message read:
Congrats! You have successfully registered for all your classes
Perhaps, it wouldn't hurt to learn a bit more about limits and infinities, Satoru thought before taking a nap in the library.
….
Or I can ask if she can help me study. because she’s good at that, right? she’s always at the library, always ignoring my texts because of her goddamn exams…
Gojo pondered, crossing his arms with his index and thumb rubbing against his chin, his cheeks squeezed while furrowing his brows.
but fuck, that means I won’t be able to talk to her because last time — I mean, it’s been a month since then, maybe it’ll be different now, I figure we got closer. she's smiling a bit more and we’ve gone on a couple of dates… I suppose —
…
“Psst,” Gojo harshly whispered from across the table, “psst!”
Glaring at him over your laptop, eyes sparkling and round, face needy for attention, “what do you want?” You spat out.
“Just wondering,” Gojo chirped, his ears perked in your direction with his elbows resting on the table, body leaning towards your direction, “Have you fallen for me yet?”
“No, you’re not my type.” you retorted emotionless.
“What’s your type then?” Gojo countered, unfazed, smiling as he challenged your words.
“Someone, not Gojo Satoru.”
“Well, aren’t you spicy?” He stretched out his legs while leaning back on his chair, boyishly smiling with his arms thrown behind his neck, the lean physique of his body outlined in this position — he looked hot, no doubt about that, and… he knew that.
“but i’m just going to tell you now,” cocking his head to the side, licking his soft lips that shined a pretty pink, confidently proclaiming,
“there will come a day when your words will bite you in the ass.”
“Did your parents ever teach you about having some class —“
“Can you guys lower it down, or move someplace else?” a student hushed, stating through gritted teeth as he witnessed the tortuous and unforgivable sight of you both, love, bantering in the library of all places.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, apologetically smiling at them before facing forward to meet your stalker — you swore he was stalking you because there was no way he and you could have this many “random” encounters, that would work out so perfectly with him just magically appearing wherever you go — it's bullshit you thought, especially when his acting skills weren’t necessarily that great…
“Hey babe,” Gojo cheekily whispered,
“I’m not your babe,” you hissed back.
“Ooo, so you like the sweet pet names huh? Noted,” he nodded, the curve of his lips turned upward, humming a tune while he typed something on his phone.
you couldn’t tell what annoyed you more, his devilishly handsome smile, or the fact that your heart was beating in unrhythmic patterns the more you talked with him.
A facade maybe, but you’ve come to undeniably enjoy his rambunctious company despite him getting on your nerves.
“Then, sweetheart, do you wanna —“
“No.” you numbly stated while typing away at your report.
“But I didn’t even get to —“
“Still, no.”
“Fine…” for a moment Satoru slumped into his chair, before quickly asking again, “how about —”
“No.”
Smiling as he rests his elbows on the table, leaning forward as he pushes down your laptop, his long, pretty fingers lightly tapping the case, “Do you hate Gojo Satoru?” His words slyly spewed out of his lips, anticipating your shy face when he catches you slipping for saying ‘no’ without much thought.
“Yes.”
“Boo,” Satoru pouted while retreating to his side, slumping his back to rest his cheeks on his textbook as he closed his eyes.
With your screen down it was easier to take notice of his features. Not that you were blatantly indifferent about his looks — everyone knew Gojo Satoru was handsome — but you rarely got to see him for who he was underneath all the layers of superficial worth people praised him for.
There was a lot on his shoulders from the brief mentions about his family and childhood that you could sense. It was easy to tell that behind all the crazy and loud was a little boy hiding his loneliness and pain under a mask and careless demeanor.
You noticed his lips were mildly protruding out, his brows slightly furrowed and his white hair gently frayed down on his forehead with his lashes long and occasionally fluttering. His skin was unblemished and his jaw was sharp yet his face still held the youth of his age.
He’ll soon prepare to work for his family business, learning about the intricacies of the business and possibly becoming one of those cutthroat bosses you’ve seen in the dramas.
He’ll probably grow a bit more — he’s been working out a lot Gojo would say, proven by the multiple thirst traps he’ll post. His arms were getting a lot more defined, and his abs… oh, you didn’t mean to take a peak. But guess you did have a front-row seat to his almost topless torso when he mindlessly pulled up his shirt while he took off his sweatshirt.
can't say you disliked the view.
You remember feeling warm that day — stomach fluttering with something, while your back felt gently embraced with his scent and clothing.
“You checking me out?” Gojo muttered without taking a glance at you, pulling you back into reality.
“N-no!” you quickly looked away, opening up your laptop as you grimaced at the harsh stares you got from those around you for the noise, “j-just wondering if you were going to study or not?” you murmured, hiding your face behind your laptop and your cheeks starting to feel hot.
“For someone so smart you ask dumb questions,” Gojo chuckled as he stretched out his legs, his feet purposefully tapping against yours, “what does it look like I’m doing, sweetheart?” he quietly mumbled before his voice started to fade out, “you know,” silently yawning as his body curled inward — all 6’3’’ of him on the small desk that barely housed his long legs — the tapping of his foot now softly, soothingly, rubbing against yours, “you gotta work smarter, not hard…er…”
You weren’t sure if the man before you was a complete idiot or a genius. but for unknown reasons, this guy surprisingly scores the top grade in his classes when his only method of “studying” is sleeping with his head on top of his textbook — surely, the world isn’t fair.
Despite the little snore you heard in front of you, with the light grunts he made from the uncomfortable position, you couldn’t help but fondly look at the guy in front of you.
Smiling — yea, you’ve been doing that a lot these days.
You decided — maybe, opening up wouldn’t be so bad…
For you, you remembered it was the first time you felt odd in the stomach. A bit like butterflies as you watched him doze off to sleep, trying your absolute best to restrain your hands from moving a piece of hair that covered his face as he slightly drooled while you studied. You’ve been catching yourself stalling time to meet him where he supposedly just ran into you — he was nice and the epitome of warmth, and you liked that in your dull world.
But for Satoru, it was another failed attempt to get closer to you.
He remembered waking up in an empty library — alone. he swore he rested his head for no more than thirty minutes, but how the hell was the time three hours past that?
Stretching as he released a low groan, his gaze foggy as he squinted his eyes to look for you, only to frown when he realized you were nowhere to be seen.
“dammit” Satoru grumbled while quickly packing his bags, “I wanted to buy dinner —”
A neon post it leafed its way down to the table, planting face down as Gojo slowly blinked in confusion while touching his forehead.
Picking up the piece of paper, it read:
Hey loser, you were mumbling about some food while you slept, so I got you dinner and placed it next to your backpack. go home and eat ( :
p.s. also, stop bothering me, weirdo.
p.p.s. you know you drool while sleeping?
Dumbfoundedly wiping his lips with the back of his hand, Gojo wasn’t sure if he was blushing from embarrassment or the fact that you were the first girl to buy him dinner — well, it wasn’t in the typical romantic sense… but who the fuck cares, it’s the fact that you bought him dinner; therefore, a step a closer to his goal. So he wins.
Carefully folding the note and placing it into the safeguard of his wallet, Gojo quickly strapped on his bag as he gently held onto his dinner, cradling it like a prized possession, mentally noting what to use for his excuse tomorrow while he made his way down the stairs to the exit.
The air felt oddly cold for the summer. the slight breeze brushed against his face, the ends of his hair tickling his cheeks as he breathed in the damp air.
Everything felt good — right almost despite his lost chances of getting dinner with you. Perhaps he can save that for another day.
“Just you wait,” beaming up at the moon lighting up the campus, his blue eyes sparkling as Gojo declared, “you will be mine.”
…
“ — Gojo-kun,” his professor called out. His impatience ran thin as he tapped his foot against the floor, “if you don’t answer, I will fail you —”
“Sensei, the limit just simply doesn’t exist — it’s limitless.” Satoru nonchalantly responded, cooly peaking at his watch now — maybe the time would read faster with that — but the second hand still stayed the same, seconds excruciatingly feeling long.
“No matter how difficult you propose this function, if the derivative doesn’t exist, nor will its limit.” Gojo continued to calmly iterated his reasoning.
“But doesn’t this point here,” pointing at the board, the chalk panging against the surface, “exist?” his professor challenged, “it’s a point on the graph.”
“Well, no matter how far you stretch this graph within the axes, going as far as trying to touch the asymptotes, it will never. because the limit will always be limitless since the function at those points won’t exist. So, no, that point isn’t on the graph.”
“And what about here?,” pointing to the chalkboard,“what is your answer, Gojo-kun?”
“Assuming you only have one x to one y, then the answer is simple. By definition, the limit will exist if the points on both sides of that graph approach the same point. To find that point, well that depends on the graph given. And looking at this graph, no. there are two points that are open.”
It should be about damn time.
Gojo felt his blood rushing through his body, heart anxiously pumping with each heavy thud drumming to his ears, the only sound audible that his brain could decipher instead of the pointless questions his professor was asking — why was he making it so goddamn difficult.
His urgency spiked up as adrenaline pumped through his body, anxiously shaking his leg, Gojo clicked his phone open again, his large hand covering the device as he peeped down.
11:48 — shit.
“Well, what about when —”
“Shit, I'm late,” Gojo cursed, frantically packing up his bag and zipping it up.
“Excuse me?” His professor frowned, obviously taken aback by his student’s daring use of profanity in his lecture.
But paying no mind, Gojo quickly stood up and paved his way out, harshly whispering past with a light smile as he hugged onto his bag, “Psst, sorry, going through!” doing his best to swiftly move through the cramped isles while his giant, uncaring if his lanky build caused a nuisance in the middle of the lecture, unbothered if his professor was done talking to him or not,
“Gojo-kun?” His professor was flabbergasted at his student’s rude ignorance.
“excuse me, sorry!” Satoru cheekily exclaimed while finally making his way out.
“I haven’t dismissed —”
“Sensei sorry!” Gojo exclaimed while opening the lecture door, ready to sprint out, “I promise, I’ll pass your exam tomorrow!” he blurted, voice fading off into the distance and Gojo now nowhere to be seen.
“... at least don’t sit in the middle if you’re always going to barge out like that,” his professor murmured to himself, massaging the bridge of his nose as he sighed.
Yet the only response he got was silence, the awkward creaking of the door closing, and the clock striking the end of his lecture.
“Fuck,” he panted while brushing his fingers through his hair, a little damp from his sweat, his chest huffing from the sprint across campus as he looked at his watch, brows furrowed as his eyes searched everywhere for a glimpse of you.
“Not there,” he mumbled, gazing to his side, “no, not here,” frustratingly turning around as he scanned the area just in case you slipped out the back door, his eyes loosely looking past a couple of figures, “damn it, not here too.”
“What’s not here?” he heard a soft voice from behind him.
“Just looking for someone,” without processing, Satoru blurted out, “uhm… sorry just talking to myself —” Gojo mumbled as he slowly turned around, impatient that someone was taking away his precious time to find you.
Call him a dreamer but he was still hopeful that you possibly didn’t just leave — I mean how could you, when he made it a point to always see you after class, you couldn’t be that clueless.
“You’re late,” you stated, trying to stifle your laugh, his busy eyes quickly changed to ones of nervousness as he registered who was exactly in front of him. His clear, azul eyes were imbued in sheer panic as his expression dwindled to eventual ease as a droplet of sweat ran down from his temple.
“Oh god, uhm,” scratching his head as he awkwardly looked off to the side, whispering under his breath, “I- I ended class a little late, but great to see you again,” he tried composing himself while smiling — the one that made his lips twitch from nervousness.
“I see,” you hummed, “you seem out of breath, Gojo,” you teased, remembering just how frantic he looked minutes prior while running over.
You ended class a bit earlier, wondering if he’d be waiting outside like he normally did, pacing back and forth to make it seem like he simply ran into you — how utterly stupid was he?
But it was you that would giggle, feeling the type of happiness that made your heart full and cheeks hurting — guess you were the stupid one for falling for such an act.
So you decided to wait today, standing off in the corner to witness how he would stage his act — you just didn’t expect him to be in such a panic rush trying to get here.
“Yea, y-you know those stairs, it gets me all the time,” Gojo stiffly laughed as he fisted his hand behind his back, trying to steady his breath and nose from embarrassingly flaring.
“Satoru,” giggling as you peeped up, noticing just how much taller he was compared to you while his hands nervously twitched and cheeks rosy despite his firm stance that his class was only but a few steps away from yours, you couldn’t help but smile at his innocence, “there are no stairs in this building.”
“Satoru, huh… that’s a change… sounds so nice rolling off your tongue,” he pondered while staring at your lips. It was cute and just perfect as you said every letter, every syllable of his name —
“Earth to Gojo Sa-to-ru,” waving your hands, tip-toeing to get his attention.
“Ah, right…. Sorry,” he mumbled, shyly looking away only to take a quick glance at you looking up at him.
“So…” cocking your head to the side, eyes doe-like while looking up through your lashes, “ what’s the plan for today? You softly chirped.
“uhm,” eyes widen, shocked at your response, “what?” his voice was unexpectedly sharp.
“I asked what are we doing today….” Rolling on your heels, “I-isn’t that why you’re here?” you nervously asked.
“Just like that?” Gojo glanced at you, eyes full of suspicion.
“What do you mean?” you questioned, lips starting to form a pout as you awaited his answer.
“Sorry,” he sighed, stretching his legs out to match his height with yours, “didn’t mean to sound harsh,” he apologetically whispered while gazing into your eyes.
“It’s just that you always reject me… I - I mean,” holding his hands up, shaking in defense to not offend you, “don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it,” furrowing his brows as he shook his head, “no, no, let’s retract back. I’m thrilled that you’re asking me. It's just that…” his voice slowly fading as if embarrassment finally caught up to his head.
“It's just what?” you softly mumbled.
“Well,” sighing, “I had all these excuses planned out just in case you said no,” he confessed as he pulled his phone from his pocket, “It’s all in my notes app.”
“Notes app huh?” your lips twitched from trying to contain your laugh.
“So what was the excuse for today? or… ” you teased, gently hitting your elbow against his arm, “should I say no, so your efforts don’t go to waste?”
“Thought we could go for coffee after I uncoincidentally bumped into you after your class,” Satoru shrugged.
“Coffee sounds nice,” you hummed, “you’re buying?”
“Here gimme,” he softly encouraged, quickly taking your bag and swinging it over his shoulder, “I mean, I do owe you one for bumping into you that one day.”
“Ah, so you do admit, that was your fault,” you jokingly glared, “the headache you put me through because of your stupid five hundred dollar shirt,” you grumbled.
“Well technically it was a bit more,” he grinned, “but not really, I believe in fate,” he winked, “it was a divine moment.”
“You’re ridiculous,” rolling your eyes, “but I need to study.”
“I have an excuse for that too.”
“And what could that be?”
“I got an exam tomorrow, so you can watch me be handsomely studious,” Satoru smiled.
“For what class?” stunned to hear Gojo Satoru and studying be spoken in a sentence together.
“Business calc,” he frowned.
“Oh my god! Who’s your professor?” you beamed.
“The one and only Takashi sensei,” Satoru chuckled, softly patting your head as he couldn’t resist your cute enthusiasm.
“What?” your voice suspicious, yet you had no resolve to remove it — it felt nice, his hands were big… you realized.
“Nothing,” biting his lip to contain his laugh,” it’s just… that’s the most you’ve shown interest in me.”
“Whatever…” you huffed to flush out the embarassment, “I have him next semester —”
“I know,” he softly responded, his words going unnoticed.
“— and I’m worried because math isn’t really my forte,” you honestly confessed.
“That’s why you have me!” he stood with his chest tall, his thumb pointing at himself, “I’ll be your dependable, hot tutor that you fall in love with.”
“You’re ridiculous…”
Winking, “I don’t charge pretty girls like you —”
“So you’re telling me, you tutored other girls by being their hot and dependable tutor?” you raised a brow, standing to one side as you crossed your arms.
“What? N-no, that’s not it!”
“mhm, yea… playboy,” shaking your head,” so why are you taking business calculus? Thought you tested out of it, no?”
“Well… a man has his reasons,” he cheekily stated.
“And how does that help me to study?” raising one brow as you questioned his logic, “ I thought your method of studying was sleeping on your textbook.”
“Okay wow, I was not prepared for that. You’re making it difficult for me again, but you know what?” pulling his sleeves up as he stood tall in front of you, “I’m prepared for your rejections. And in answer to that, then we can study together.”
“But you talk too much, and snore when you fall asleep.”
“Not true,” Satoru murmured, “Suguru said I was generally a peaceful and quiet sleeper.”
“Explain generally,” you eyed him suspiciously, “and I didn’t know you both were like that,” giggling, your heart slowly expanding in adoration the more you talked with him, “... sleeping together and such.”
“We just had one too many nights where we would pass out a little drunk after a party,” scratching the back of his head, “and m-my body runs a little hot… so…”
“So…?”
“So, Shoko may or may not have some photos of us,” Gojo’s face started to contort in disgust, “cuddling…”
“But aside from that,” he tried defending himself, “I’m very great to sleep with!”
“Sure…” you gave him a teasing glance, “I’ll ask Geto the next time I see him about that.”
“Hey…” suddenly stepping closer to you, his voice serious yet soft. He was careful to not overstep any boundaries you might have placed, slowly reaching down to grasp hold of your fingers,
“just give me a chance yea? I’ll be good, I- I won’t snore, I won't drool, and I’ll only talk when I need to, hmm?” he reassured
You can almost feel the sore desperation in his voice as you feel the feathery grazes of his fingers against yours; his breath held as he anxiously awaited your answer.
“Okay,” you softly mumbled.
“Great,” releasing his breath, “you won’t regret it, I promise,” Gojo whispered while smiling.
“Hey Satoru,” you lightly called out, his name perfectly rolling off your tongue — so delicate, so pretty.
“Mhm,” he invited you to continue.
“Did you run here?” You questioned, playing with your foot as you rolled a rock on your shoe, “you’re normally not so out of breath.”
“Pssh, no,” he awkwardly laughed, “I told you my class is in this building as well —“
“Stupid, come here,” you murmured, pulling him slightly down, taking a piece of your sleeve as you tiptoed to reach his face. Gently dabbing the small droplets of sweat under his soft white bangs, “next time don’t run. And finish your class, Sensei’s going to hate you,” you softly told him.
“I- I told you,” blushing because your face was way too close — dangerous even — examining your features, ‘pretty’ he thought as he watched you concentrate on him,
“I just happened to have class —“
“I’ll be waiting next time, so take your time coming,” you smiled, looking into his eyes before quickly flattening your feet, “it’s quite far to come here from across campus, no?”
Satoru just gives in, like the hundred different times where he willingly lost to you, “Not as hard as scoring a date with you,” he smiled while spreading his feet out to make it easier for you to continue.
“It’s not a date,” you mumbled, your cheeks feeling hot as his soft eyes gazed at you, his two hands lightly placed on your hips to draw you closer.
“It is so definitely a date,” Satoru professed, “and I can just tell,” his voice feathery and light, “that we’ll have many more.”
10 years later —
The light scratching on his pen against the document loomed in his office. Ijichi, his most trusted secretary anxiously waited for his boss to finish signing his papers, watching guard just in case he didn’t go running off before finishing all his duties — again.
“You don’t need to stand there hovering,” Gojo nonchalantly stated, his wrist gently peeking through his cuffs, his watch shining with every stroke of his name.
“Well, these reports are important that you have them signed by today,” Ijichi nervously answered.
“Do you have it ready?” Gojo responded without removing his gaze from the file he was reading just before signing.
“I-I do, the flower shop did say it was difficult to find the specific color, but they made it work. I’ll bring it over when you’re done… and reservations have been made, sir.”
“Perfect, because…” his voice calm and emotionless, his hair once perfectly set in the morning, now just a little frazzled from his busy day, his tie now loose from his stress, “this should be the last one I do,” Satoru smiled while giving his secretary the folder.
“Sir, uhm you still have —”
“I’ll do them tomorrow,” Gojo stood up, reaching over to grab his coat, quickly throwing it over his broad shoulder.
“B-but!” Ijichi was frantic, his eyes shaking at the visible stack of papers Satoru had yet to sign — and oh, god, he didn’t even get to read over the file for tomorrow’s presentation.
“Satoru-sachou, the Chairman will be there for tomorrow—“
“And the flowers are beautiful, she’ll love them, thank you,” Gojo warmly smiled while taking a whiff of its scent, walking past the frazzled man to a mirror to quickly freshen up his white hair and clothes, reapply your favorite cologne and spray some mint into his mouth.
“Satoru-sach —”
“Relax, when have I ever worried you?”
'always,' Ijichi thought.
Nonchalant and unbothered as he fixed his tie, “It’ll be fine, I’ll be fine, and you’ll be fine,” Satoru stated as he took one look at the mirror, his sharp cerulean eyes looking at his secretary, “go take the night off, you look exhausted.”
You! You are the source of my stress and mental breakdowns! Ijichi wanted to scream.
While making his way to the door, Satoru quickly noted, “I’ll be here in the morning with all of it finished,” he stated before leaving his office.
At a loss for words, helpless in front of his careless boss, Ijichi just stood frozen, mind racing at all the changes and accommodations, the phone calls and e-mails he’d have to make to fit into Gojo’s schedule because he knew for sure… Gojo Satoru will not be here bright and early in the morning to finish his work — especially when it is date night.
“I should just quit,” falling to his knees, defeated by his boss’s carelessness to simply skadoodle off on a date when he was one impacted by the brunt repercussions of his actions, “surely he wants to kill me with all this— ”
Disrupting his internal monologue, “Ah, I almost forgot,” Ijichi’s mortal enemy spoke while opening the door and holding onto the knob, “I booked a small vacation for you and your wife for this weekend, it should be in my drawer,” the man simply blinked in response, “and don’t call me until I text you, I got important business for tonight,” Gojo warned before his voice quickly changed to that of pity, “yea… you definitely need that break,” he stated as he shook his head and closed the door again.
Registering what just occurred, Ijichi grunted as he lifted himself up, brushing his knees as he walked towards Satoru’s desk, lightly skipping as the scales of his exhaustion flaked off from the caring act of his boss, “Well, guess I gotta start sending those emails now…” Ijichi hummed.
…
“Traffic doesn’t seem too bad,” Gojo muttered while looking at his phone’s navigation, his steps pacing as the clicks of his heels echoed through the halls of the empty parking garage.
Sliding his hand behind the handle, the car automatically turned on as he opened the door. Lowly grunting as he entered his Bentley, his eyes quickly scanned his back seat from the rearview mirror, his mind recalling a moment a couple of days prior that left you rather speechless in his arms — hot and sticky as he reconfirmed once again his love for you in a rather lustfully carnal matter.
He could do that with you — boyfriend privileges.
It’s not like he picked out this specific car, testing out the back specifically for its… spacious seating and tinted window. Totally didn’t bring this car to work today because he wanted to test those specifications out again… but only if you were up for it.
And stepping on the gas pedal, Gojo drove out, the light screeches of his car heard from inside.
“Daddy’s coming, sweetheart,” Gojo chuckled while firmly placing a grip on his wheel, his vacant arm resting on the side.
Though a decade has gone by, Satoru still feels the same giddiness that he did when he was eighteen. He’s gotten taller, bulkier in his frame, and styled his clothes better from the god-awful sweats he always wore — though you still seem to always complain if he wasn’t wearing his specific gray ones, he doesn’t blame you. It makes his dick look nice.
He kisses you a lot better than the sloppy ones he gave you in his teen years. He gets to wake up with you — face cutely bloated, tummy peaking through his loose shirt, legs entangled with his as he takes in your beauty. He likes that, all of it.
He reads and understands your quirks before you even tell him. And strangely so, when you have a headache, well god be damned, he had one too.
He’s become more influential and held power to his name, leading a multi-billion company, but in the privacy of his home, he was still silly, honest, and vulnerable. Contrary to the changes throughout the years, Satoru was still the same — a lovesick man.
Despite your harsh decision to break up with him from a simple misunderstanding, Gojo never held it against you. He’s grown to understand and works to amend the loss — together. It was his time to grow, his time to expand his horizons and his time to explore his options. But guess fate was really on his side because he walked back to where it all started with a fresh start — finding you two years ago at a college reunion.
Life was good for Satoru — better when you came back into his world. Mornings weren’t so tough and nights didn’t feel so lonely. His mundane days of meeting and mediocre dates were of the past. Now, even the simplest days felt refreshing.
Looking out as he drove through the highway, a couple minutes from your workplace, he watched the city’s skyline sparkle in the dark. He recalled the days when he looked out the night sky, thinking if you were happy, wishing he could just understand why you decided to leave him — only for him to make some regrettable choices of relying on alcohol and texting quick fucks, slipping into weakness during the quietest of times.
It’s often when everything was quiet that felt the loudest — the most difficult to bear for him.
But now, when he sees the night sky he can’t help but feel warm with a slight tingling resonating from his core because even if it's quiet, he isn’t alone — you’ve nestled into a portion of his heart that he could never forsake, nor did he want to.
She’ll like that, Gojo thought while looking up, making a mental note to mention it to you later.
He felt his heart beating fast as he imagined what face you would make when you would see him today — happy, relieved, excited? Or did you happen to have a bad day, the exhaustion dripping from your slumped shoulders simply needing a hug with light kisses as he expressed his love?
And parking his car, carefully grabbing the bouquet as he took another whiff — he doesn’t remember flowers smelling so beautifully fragrant when you weren’t in his life, but strangely now… it does.
“Yellow tulips are my favorite,” you mentioned once while Satoru dropped you off at your dorm.
“Why,” he asked. Repeating ‘yellow tulips’ in his head multiple times just so he can type it into his notes app later when he was alone.
“Just cause… they’re beautiful and they symbolize hope and happiness,” you softly said, “I like to think there’s something out there I can be hopeful for… and maybe find the answer to finding true happiness, if that even exists, ” you shyly confessed with a gentle laugh.
And grabbing hold of your hand, gently bringing it up to his lips for a soft kiss, specific to a finger on your left hand, Satoru marked a promise, “I’ll buy you all the yellow tulips in the world, till you find that answer.”
Obviously, no flower could come abysmally close to your natural scent when he held you tightly in his arms, naked bodies touching as he breathed into your skin.
And he hoped the time he spent with you was a step closer to finding your true happiness because, to him, you meant the world.
“She’ll be out in a few, so...” he murmured while taking a look at his watch, briefly scanning the entrance to find a good spot to wait.
“There should be perfect,” he whispered to himself as he made his way to the corner — a place difficult to see through from the dangling tree leaves and vines.
Satoru couldn’t help but pleasingly reminiscence the times when he would run from his lecture to pick you up. Who can blame him, he was a man on a mission to find his princess — just so happens that she broke his heart eight years ago — but who the fuck cares about setbacks, things were good now.
He feels his heart beating, the familiar thumping in his chest as he waits for you. The usual sweating of his palms as he checked his phone for the time again, mentally groaning as time seemed to be infinitely fixed. Good thing there was no sensei asking him useless questions as he nervously waited.
“I’ll see you next week, have a great weekend Tanaka-san.”
Gojo could realize that voice anywhere.
There you were, waving goodbye to a fellow male coworker that he had never liked — the lovely Tanaka-san, you always had so many great things to say about. He should just have you transferred to his company, you’ll thrive, and even have a chance to expand your talents … but you’ll give him an earful if he does.
But that’ll be a conversation for another day when he’s more willing to put up a friendly fight with you.
Because right now, he had a mission — one he’s been striving for since eighteen.
“Ah, fancy I see you here,” Satoru voiced out, coming out from the dark with a hand behind his back, “must’ve been fate that we meet,” he stated with a wink.
Rolling your eyes with a chuckle, turning around to see your boyfriend walking over, “did you run here? Or…” you hummed while looking over to find his Bentley parked on the right, “are you gonna tell me you work here too?”
“Neither,” he shrugged while walking, “just came here to ask a pretty girl out on a date, that’s all,” his voice soft yet enticing as he now stood so closely in front of you.
“Oh, I’m sorry but I’m actually waiting for my boyfriend,” you looked around, your knees feeling weak when you caught his confident smirk, the sweet scent of his cologne hypnotizing your senses, “have you seen him? He’s really handsome, you know?” you played on.
“You do?” Satoru warmly stated as he gave you the bouquet he was hiding behind his back, his fingers gently resting on your hips as he pulled you in, your dainty heels standing in between his larger dress shoes while he pressed a warm kiss to your cheek, “Bet your handsome boyfriend doesn’t have flowers for you like this, no?”
“He gets them for me all the time,” you took a whiff of the rose and caught sight of the yellow incarnation of hope, “and always picks me up from work even though it drives his secretary insane.”
“Pssh, what a bad boyfriend,” he whispered with his gaze traveling to your lips, “you should totally dump him for me,” he pitched while cupping your face, lips teasing to touch, the slight minty breeze of his breath warming your cheeks, as he slowly closed the impending gap between you two,
“what do you say, sweetheart? Give me a chance and I’ll treat you to more than just coffee for our date tonight.”
note: hope you all enjoyed! it was rather difficult to pull out this piece because I was heartbroken from the last jjk chapter... but all is well now because gojo is healthy and well in the forbes30! universe. this was a headcanon that spiraled into a 6k fic... and hopefully i'll be able to expand on the other hc's i have for him, without breaking the word count rip
#ae.writes#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru x reader#forbes30!gojo
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Reader/ Y/n coming back to base covered in blood and tortured while 141 + Alejandro had no idea where reader was since they left in the morning.
Reader is "the little sibling/adopted child that we must protect all cause" to the boys
Love your writing so much ❤️
As Long as I'm Here
rating: mature
pairing(s): platonic gn!reader x 141 + alejandro
warning(s): canon-typical violence, language, drugs and drugging, torture, blood, military inaccuracies, no use of y/n, no beta read
a/n: Hope you don't mind that I decided to put this all in one long fic, kinda struggled with the writing direction with this since I had to rewrite it multiple times and I had to cut it short so I'll probably make a part two?
synopsis: it's going to take a lot more than simple torture to keep you from going back to the 141.
Part Two is now up!
"I'll be back before they know it."
Those were the last words you thought to yourself before you hopped off the helicopter. You and a team of other capable members of SpecGru and the Los Vaqueros had left before the crack of dawn for a joint operation and anticipated coming back by the afternoon if things went smoothly. And of course, they didn't.
No, you couldn't be afforded such a luxury as seen by how you were overwhelmed in battle. You wish you could've said you did your best, but god dammit you should've checked before entering that building, thinking you could lure the enemy away from the rest of your team. Compared to the hours you spent strapped to a chair with nothing but fluorescent light and a buzzing in your ears to compliment the throbbing pain in your head, you started to prefer the option of joining the rest of your teammates becoming target practice instead.
It didn't help either that the people who caught you were sick bastards. You could deal with the punches, a kick to the crotch, the hair pulling, cigar smoke, the blades, and having your body slammed around the place. It was nothing compared to practice with the 141 and prior missions you had with them. But when the metal cart of syringes came out, you knew you were beyond fucked, even when you had a swollen eye, a busted lip, broken ribs, open cuts, and burns. They took it a step further and injected experimental drugs you were supposed to investigate, homemade concoctions as they lovingly called them.
By pure shitty luck, you only escaped because one of them was stupid enough to clean up after offering you a glass of water when you woke up after passing out, dropping and shattering it in front of you, and not bothering to clean up. When your guard left to go take a piss break, you threw yourself to the floor and tried to squirm your way to the glass, using a shard to cut through your ropes. Once your guard came back, you pretended to still be bounded to your seat, coaxing him to come closer as if you wanted to confess something, and slit his throat. From there, it was easy now that you had a gun.
Or at least it was supposed to be. Maybe it was the heat of the moment or the adrenaline of finally being able to move, but the drugs hadn't fully kicked in until now. Your whole world seemed to sway, or maybe it was just you. You couldn't tell, all that mattered was that you could fight. Based on the layout of the building you were in, you were still in the same area as you were before. It took more bullets than you would've liked to admit to take down the guards that were in your way, but how was it your fault when the only two thoughts in your head were 'Where the fuck is my stuff' and 'God I'm gonna puke'.
Whoever kidnapped you really didn't think things through. Security was tight on the second floor but the bottom floor just had a single guy in the kitchen messing with a bag of crackers. You aimed your gun at him and click!
Click!
Clickclickclick!
Shit.
Well that caught his attention. You ducked down right when he reached for his gun, tossing your empty one to the side now that you'd be doing this the hard way. Waiting with bated breath, you took your window of opportunity, lunging when he had to reload. You took him by such surprise that he fumbled to put in another magazine and that allowed you to knock the weapon from his hands and tackle him to the ground. The both of you struggled on the hardwood floors for what felt like hours, but it was only a minute at most. Even in your feverish, dizzy, survival-instincts-only state, you overpowered him and stabbed him with his own knife.
Towering over the body, you gasped for breath, feeling your lungs struggling to expand and contract if you didn't force yourself to focus on the task. Great, now you're sweaty, weak, bloody, and out of breath. Based on how your hands started trembling, your symptoms were getting worse. Pacing around the area, you found your bag on a couch and fished around for the radio, yelling out your callsign before the rest of them would discover why their friends were suddenly so silent over comms.
"Sending coordinates, get a chopper over to exfil ASAP. And a damn medic."
The 141 were back from their own mission when they had heard the news of your distress call. Ghost was on the verge of strangling one of men that was on the team with you if they didn't add the fact that you made a reckless move for the sake of the team. Ghost could agree that it was something that only you would do despite his constant arguing with you and his protectiveness over you. He'd keep an eye out for you from the shadows both on base and in the field, be the one to challenge you to push your limits during your sparring matches, make sure you were well-trained so you could protect yourself. And yet you would instead protect the 141's asses countless times.
Ghost was brooding in the helicopter, well, more like sulking after a mission with you and Soap. During the crossfire, he wasn't able to keep an eye out for his flank and see the grenade flying for him. In a desperate move, you shoved him out of the blast range with all your strength, landing you with a couple burns and injuries, but nothing fatal. You knew he was going to get moody afterwards, giving a knowing glance to Soap before turning back to Ghost and nudging his leg with your boot.
"Hey, L.T, you were in the British S.A.S, right?"
"..."
"Just answer the question! C'mon Ghost, for me? Pleaaaase?"
"Affirmative."
"So back then, if you were to get bathroom duty, would they call you a Loo-tenant?"
"... negative. Was promoted after joining the 141." He turned his head away, and despite his blunt, by-the-book response, you knew he was smirking under that mask of his, especially with how Johnny and you were both snickering your asses off.
"Ghost?"
Simon snapped out of his thoughts and looked back at Soap, visibly concerned for the masked man but reading him all at the same time. Years of working together helped Soap get over the boundary of Ghost's silence and stoicism, and Ghost wasn't the only one looking out for you after all.
"You alright, L.T?"
"Solid, just need a talk with Price."
"I know what you're thinkin', and as much as I'd love to shove it to the bastards, they're going to need us when they come back. Price will come up with something, we just hafta wait 'til then." For once, Soap was the voice of reason and Ghost couldn't argue with his point.
"He's right, you know." Price stood a few feet away from the two in the hall, "Kid's capable of themselves but they're going to need a shoulder to lean on when they get here. Maybe a couple stitches, too."
Price hoped it was only going to be a few stitches. Though he knew it probably wasn't the case. Alongside Roach and Gaz, he had trained you for these situations, ensuring it would never happen and it never did thanks to his mentorship. He saw you as one of his own and ensured that you'd be able to fight tooth and nail so that it would never end up like this. But now that it has, he could only wonder what could've been done to you for you to get captured.
He didn't want to wonder.
"Bloody hell, what did they do to you?" Gaz muttered, watching as you stepped down the ramp with a soldier aiding at your side. There was an attempt to bandage you up on the way, though it only seemed to be temporary since your bandages were already stained with blood and some of it oozed out. Even the bandages around your head didn't stop the crimson liquid from spilling down the side of your face. The soldier passed you to Gaz, immediately urging that your injuries be tended to.
"Something's wrong, look." Roach helped support your other side to allow Gaz to examine you.
With a closer look, Gaz found that your pupils were disturbingly dilated, eyes glazed over in a way that made you almost look dead. You were muttering and mumbling nonsense under your breath, something about the mission and wanting to go home.
Gaz swallowed an anxious breath and nodded, "We'll get you home soon, buddy. Roach, help me take off their gear."
As soon as the other man began unclipping your vest from your body, it seemed something had pulled a trigger in you.
"No... no you're not- don't fucking touch me-!" You slurred, weakly tearing yourself from the hands of your friends. It surprised Gaz that you had the energy to punch his chest with that much force, but it broke his heart all at the same time. Roach guessed that you were so out of it that you could barely comprehend your surroundings, hell, you probably thought you were still in captivity. It hurt to imagine your perspective, and how vulnerable you felt, thinking they were your enemies.
"What's going on here?" Price's voice rose over all the noise as people tried to calm you down, Soap and Ghost following behind him along with Alejandro, who joined them with no hesitance after hearing what happened.
Roach approached them, "I don't know, the Sergent just came back like this, like they're in some kind of haze."
"They're drugged, at least, I think. I took a look at them and they don't even look like they recognize us," Gaz struggled to keep you from falling but you were insistent on getting away from him, from everyone. Thankfully, Ghost had come up from behind you without being noticed and locked you in a hold. You tried to flail even more, but with your weakened state and Ghost's strength, all you could do was yell with sloppy words for him to let go of you. It hurt them all to hear you yowl and yelp like an animal in pain, but they knew that you'd only hurt yourself more if Ghost didn't keep you like this. He forced himself to ignore your cries and clenched his jaw, focusing on keeping his temper and how he was going to let it out when given a chance.
"Steamin' Jesus, Price, I thought this was a cartel recon mission?" Soap seethed at the thought of what might've happened. Torture was one thing, but it was this whole new level of "fucked-up" that had him wanting to snap and tear at the throats of your tormentors.
"It was," Alejandro spoke up, "There was talk of a new drug on the market, released even though it was 'incomplete'. Nobody know that it was more dangerous than it was supposed to be, nobody outside of them." The words left a sour taste in his mouth. Cartels being reckless was nothing new to him, it was something he had seen time and time again. But it was the lack of awareness, the blatant disregard for safety and society, and how they betrayed their own people that made him livid. As a leader, he emphasized his loyalty and dedication to his soldiers, which was why he considered those who worked for and with him to be friends or even family, like you. So to him, if someone had messed with you, they were messing with him and his army as well.
Price glanced in the direction of you and Ghost for a moment, watching you finally begin to calm down from tiring yourself out. His gaze softened after you finally went limp, but still breathing, and he felt a pang of disappointment in himself for the briefest of moments. Maybe if he had known you'd leave so early in the day, he could've better prepared you. Maybe he should've assigned one of the others to join you so you wouldn't be in this predicament. But he didn't know. He didn't expect things would go this far south. None of them did.
"We'll finish the job first and then," Price took one last look as you were taken away on a stretcher, unconscious but writhing with a pained expression.
"We give them hell."
#x reader#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#call of duty#cod#codmwii#codmw2#call of duty modern warfare 2#gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#captain price x reader#john price x reader#soap x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#roach x reader#gary roach sanderson x reader#task force 141 x reader#alejandro vargas x reader#los vaqueros x reader#platonic
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Summary: Christmas this, Christmas that. The “Most wonderful time of the year” is not how Y/N would describe it. Sure, it used to be a magical time full of happiness and love, but she let that belief go years ago. Christmas is all about how much money you spend on someone and making yourself look good to outsiders. Snow is wet and everything is cold during this time of year, makes everything gross. Her best friend is tired of having The Grinch as a roommate, especially when he remembers what it was like when she loved Christmas. This year, he finally decides that it’s time to bring the magic back into her life. Maybe that magic will bring a little love with it.
Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader
Word Count:9,603
Genre/themes/au: fluff, smut, a tiny bit of angst; friends to lovers, roommates to lovers; it's a Christmas fic, yall.
Warnings: parental abandonment, masturbation(f), unprotected sex(NO! BAD!), fingering, oral (f rec), daddy kink (it just kind of happened ok), allusion to a hand kink but I didn't really act on it. I think that's it, but let me know if i missed something. My work is 18+ minors are not tolerated here. Be gone, child.
Walking through the front door, the sound of Christmas music and the blinking of festive lights hits your senses immediately. ‘God dammit, Chris. It's literally the 1st.’ You love having your best friend as a roommate, you really do, but his holiday spirit is not something you enjoy at this moment.
When he goes all out for New Year's? All good. Valentine's Day? Fuck yeah, let's it chocolate. Halloween? Yes bitch, let's get spooky. But Christmas? It's a no from you. That's where you draw the line.
His voice floats through your ears as he sings along to whatever annoying song is on. ‘At least it's not All I Want For Christmas is You.’ The beautiful tone of his soft singing almost brings you out of your grumpy mood. Almost. You love his voice, it does things to you. It makes you happy and relaxed. It also turns you on, but he doesn't need to know that. If it weren't for the fact that he's so into this damn holiday, everything would be perfect.
“You're letting the heat out. And stop looking so mad, you knew this was coming.” His words draw you from your thoughts and you squint your eyes at him in a glare. By the bright smile on his face, he obviously doesn't care about your death stare. You toss your backpack aside, kicking your shoes off with a sigh. It’s been a long day of classes and assignments and you really just want to sit on the couch and watch true crime.
Chris has a pep in his step as he walks to the couch, throwing himself down on the cushions and opening his arms wide. He knows what you want, of course he knows. He tilts his head toward the spot beside him, a soft smile replacing the beaming one he had when you walked in. Your feet shuffle across the carpet as you make your way to him, promptly plopping down next to him and letting him wrap his arms around you.
Chris is your person. He may not have been in your life from the start, but the 2 years he has been has solidified his place for years to come. He's your best friend, sometimes you think he may even be your soulmate, but you don't have the courage to tell him just how deep in you are for him.
You met Chris in freshman year of college, having shared the first class of the semester together. You had taken the seat next to you, immediately giving you the beautiful smile he seems to almost always have. Now, you are in no way a shy person, not even close, but being the focus of his wide smile never fails to bring a blush to your cheeks. It's been like that since day one, you're just better at hiding it now.
One class turned into three that semester and the two of you clicked immediately. He's a bit more outgoing than you are, but not by a whole lot. He just has an aura of comfort and it reeled you in and you haven't been able to get rid of him sense, not that you want to, anyway. You're down bad.
At the beginning of sophomore year, the two of you opted for getting an apartment together rather than staying in the dorms. It just made more sense that way. You got to live off campus with your best friend, and you had someone to split the rent with.
The sound of a movie beginning to play on the tv jolted you from your thoughts. Eyes flicking up to the screen, a groan immediately left your throat without much thought. A hand rubbing up and down your back reminded you of the comforting presence beside you. “A Christmas movie? Really, Chris?” You can feel his mood shift and you’re filled with a small amount of guilt. You know he loves Christmas, he loves holidays in general, but Christmas always puts him in a particular cheery mood. But he also knows how much you detest the holiday. But then again, he has always been willing to do things he hates just because it’s something you want to do.
The weight of his arm disappears from your body and your head snaps up to face him. ‘Great. I’ve finally pushed him into anger.’ You know that he isn’t angry with you, but the little voice in your head can’t help but override your rationality. The two of you sit in silence for a while, both of you focusing on the images flickering across the tv screen. You’re not as much focusing on the movie as just having a place for your eyes to land. You can tell that Chris is in thought, he’s unusually quiet. There is a tension in the air, thick with guilt and worry.
By the time the movie is, what you assume, half way through, Chris reaches forward to press the pause button on the remote. The scene stops in the middle of a conversation and the looks on the characters’ faces brings a small snort from your nose. It’s always been a game between the two of you. Someone pauses a movie or show randomly, trying to find the best funny face someone on screen is making. You turn to the man beside you, ready to talk about the game, only to see how serious his face is.
“I’m not going to ask why you hate Christmas so much, I already know that.” The mention of the reason for your Grinch-like attitude makes you wince, though you try to hide it. That obviously doesn’t work because a warm hand finds its way back around your shoulders, giving a squeeze of reassurance. “But I am going to ask that you do me a favor.” Your heart races at his words. You give him a nod, letting him know that you’re listening. “Give me until Christmas Eve to change your opinion.”
That is not what you were expecting. You thought he’d ask you to keep your holly jolly hating thoughts to yourself. You had no idea how he even thought he could change your mind. Hating Christmas had been a part of you since before you met Chris. It wasn’t your whole personality, that would be awful, but it was well known amongst your friends that you and Christmas didn’t get along. Chris was one of the only people in your friend group that knew the exact reason. You love your friends and as much as you trust them, you don’t want to deal with the looks. You had worried about that when you told Chris, but he hadn’t looked at you like other people would have. Of course he hadn’t. He was Chris. He was perfect.
“What do you mean?” You mentally rolled your eyes at yourself, it felt like a dumb question. Your best friend’s gaze held no anger, and didn't make you feel stupid for asking. He just gave you a soft smile, his hand coming to push your hair behind your ear. “Give me 23 days to make Christmas a happy time for you again. Three weeks. We’ll do two small things a week, and one big thing on the weekend. Today is Friday, so the first big activity can be tomorrow. There are two more weekends between now and Christmas Eve. The last big thing will be on Christmas Eve. If your thoughts on the holiday aren’t changed by midnight on Christmas Day, I’ll tone down the holiday cheer next year. Deal?”
“Alright.” You can see that he senses the hesitancy in your voice, but he doesn't say anything. Just reaches his hand out towards you, waiting for you to take it in a handshake. ‘This is certainly going to be interesting.’ You have no idea what he could possibly have planned, but you're curious.
You slept in the next morning, which felt amazing. You honestly expected Chris to wake you up early for his big adventure, but you were damn glad he didn't. Taking your time in getting up, you finally crawl out of bed to brush your teeth before emerging from your room. Your first stop would be the kitchen, you need coffee. As soon as you hit the end of the hallway, a mug sat on the counter, still steaming. You couldn't help the smile that graced your lips at the sight.
Chris had made a habit of setting your coffee out for you before he went to the gym. It was a small thing, but it always made your heart skip. Now that he wasn't home, you could let yourself stew in your feelings. You aren't sure when your feelings for him had changed, you just knew that they had.
Maybe it was last month when he had stayed up all night taking care of you when you had the flu. Maybe it was last year when your boyfriend had broken up with you and he had made a blanket fort in the living room and watched Disney movies with you. Perhaps it was a month after starting school and you had to miss a week of class, only to come back to a set of notes he had taken for you. You couldn't be certain.
You bumble around the apartment, looking for things to do. You had to admit, even though you hate Christmas and anything to do with it, you were excited to see what Chris had planned. You doubted he could actually change your mind, but it was better to not tell him that.
Thinking back to your life before Chris, your thoughts landed on the reason you hate this goddamn holiday. Your father. Waking up on Christmas morning only to find him nowhere in sight and your mother in shambles. You were sixteen. He had left a note explaining that he had found a new life, one that didn't include you or your mother. Prick. That had solidified your hatred. You struggled to pick up the pieces of your mother’s broken heart, and after a while you had succeeded, but there was still a void.
She had eventually remarried once you had gone off to school, and while she was happy with the way her life turned out, you were still angry. Still hurt. Still hated Christmas. You love your stepfather dearly, but the memory of that shitty Christmas morning still reigns supreme.
The jingling of keys brought you out of your angry thoughts. The door opened and there was your best friend, the object of your unknown affections. He was still sweaty from his intense workout. ‘Fuck. He really is going to give me a heart attack one of these days.’ Your stomach was doing flips. He looked so good. Biting your lip, you admire him for a moment longer before calling out to him.
“Thanks for the coffee.” He turns to you, eyes wide, obviously startled. You suppress a giggle, knowing it would only make him pout at your amusement. “No need for thanks, pretty girl.” There goes your stomach again, your heart joining its waltz of emotion. Pet names aren't a new thing for him, it's something he's done for months now, but it still affects like it had the very first time.
“So, what's the big activity you have planned?” You watch as he kicks off his shoes, making sure to place them neatly on the shoe rack you keep next to the door. He tsks at you as he makes his way to stand in front of you. “Nope. Not a chance. It's a surprise.” An immediate pout comes across your face, causing a loud laugh from the man in front of you. Your pout only deepens. Before you realize what is happening, Chris reaches forward, squishing your cheeks in his hand and leaning closer. “No pouting. I'm gonna shower and we can go.” He lets go of your face and leans back, smirking a bit as he turns and walks down the hall. “Make sure to wear something warm!” His loud voice rings out through the apartment, and you sigh, getting up to go get dressed.
This is not what you expected. To be fair, you don't really know what you expected, but an ice skating rink wasn't it. Chris must be able to see the confusion on your face, because he laughs and reaches for your hand. “Ice skating is an important part of the holiday season.” This is news to you.
His hand doesn't leave yours as he pulls you towards the small building that houses the skate rentals. After a moment of waiting in line, you step up to the counter, pulling your wallet out to pay. “The hell do you think you're doing?” Chris has a serious face as he looks at you with furrowed brows. “Paying?” You didn't mean for your words to come out as a question. He shakes his head adamantly, gently pushing your arm back. ‘Should have known. Always has to pay.’ Every time he does this, your mind briefly wonders if you're on a date, but you always shake that thought away.
Stepping onto the ice is always a little scary. It's not like you've never gone ice skating, but you always feel a bit rusty after not going for a while. You watch as Chris glides around the rink once before making his way back to you. He's so graceful as he skates. It's like there's nothing he can't do. His arms reach out towards you as he comes closer, beckoning you to start moving in his direction.
Both of his hands clasp yours, pulling you into his chest. Despite the temperature, he's warm. He's always so damn warm. You pull your head back to look up at him, his eyes already focused on you. Getting lost in his eyes is so easy. It's like second nature. Your gazes stay locked for what feels like forever before you break the contact first, both visually and physically.
As you shuffle backwards on your skates, you notice Chris drop his arms to his side. You're looking at your feet so you don't notice the disappointment that crosses his face. You turn, slowly skating off, trying to get the hang of it again.
Chris joins you only a second later, giving you a slight nudge. “Wanna race?” He's wearing his signature smile, an eyebrow cocked. This is a bad idea. You know this is a bad idea. That doesn't stop you at all. “You're on!” You're moving forward before you finish the sentence.
“Are you ok?” Uninjured, yes. Mortified, also yes. Chris helps you off of the ice as you nod. You got too confident. He had been closing in on you almost immediately. Then, a child moved into your path. Down on your ass you went. “Need to step off the ice for a minute?” You give him an affirmative, you just need a little bit of a breather.
The two of you step off the ice, not even bothering to take your skates off, you don't plan to be off the ice long. Chris walks you to a bench, making sure you're sat and comfortable before he walks away. He doesn't speak before he leaves, leaving you confused. You watch his back as the distance between you greatens, watching him stop and a tiny stand at the edge of the area.
He comes back with two cups in his hands, handing one to you. “Hot chocolate?” He nods, giving you a big smile, and the butterflies fly away again. “Figured it'd help warm you up, since, y’know, you ate shit and now your ass is cold.” His tone is teasing and a smirk plays on his lips. You give him a playful shove, telling him to shut up and his laughter fills the air. “Gonna need a massage?” His eyebrows wiggle and you almost spit the drink out. Once you finish your drink, he grabs your hand again, leading you back to the ice. The next two hours are filled with laughter and teasing as you skate hand in hand.
You dream of ice skating with Chris. The holiday spirit creeps at the edge of your soul.
It's four days later that you come home to notice things are different. The tree is gone. You have a brief moment of giddiness, immediately feeling bad. You told yourself that you're going to try. It isn't fair to Chris if he goes through all of this trouble for you to refuse to try.
“Chris? Are you home?” You hear shuffling coming from the back half of the apartment. The Adonis of a man comes from his room, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips, pulling a black muscle shirt over his head. You can see the ridges that adore his chest and stomach. It makes your mouth dry and your panties wet.
“Great, you're home. It's time for the first small activity.” You look around, trying to figure out what he has planned. It takes a bit, but you finally notice the Christmas tree messing put on top, not in, it's box. Your eyes flicking to your best friend, raising an eyebrow in question.
“Yepp. First up, we put the tree up and decorate it together.” You suppress a sigh. This used to be one of your favorite things to do for Christmas, second only to baking cookies. You give him a small smile and a nod and the way his face lights up makes every grievance you have about doing this fly out of the window.
Chris sets the tree up while you sort the decorations and untangle the lights. He had tangled them back up so you could get the “full experience.” Admittedly, that made you the tiniest bit happy. Just that he had thought of everything, even something as small as untangling lights. After he has the tree in its place, he steps away and grabs his phone, turning it to the radio station for the college. You give him a side eye and he laughs. “I may be off today, but I still support my team.” The radio station is Chris’ baby. He’s always loved music, he says it has helped him through his darkest times.
Of course Jisung is playing Christmas music right now, you suspect Chris had something to do with that since it isn’t a normal occurrence this early in the month. Footsteps coming your way clue you in that he has decided to make his way over to where you are. His arms come around you from behind, giving you a soft squeeze. He breathes a soft laugh into your ear as he watches you fight the strand of lights. “Here, let me help.” He rests his chin on your shoulder, his nimble fingers making quick work of the knots. You can’t help but focus on the way his hands move, god you want them inside of you.
The next hour or so is spent making sure every ornament is in the perfect place, not too close together, but not too far apart. The music, which has since switched from Christmas tunes, plays softly in the background. Every now and then, Jisung’s voice cuts through the speaker, usually to make some sort of joke or answer a question that was sent in. You’re distracted with making sure the tree is perfect that you don’t notice the way your roommate stands off to the side, watching you intently, a smile on his face and his eyes twinkling.
The rest of your week drags on. Your thoughts are muddled and all over the place. You’ve been happier than you normally are this time of year, and you know Chris’ plan is working. You can’t tell if it’s because of doing the activities you haven’t done in years, or if it’s because you're doing them with him. You think it may be the latter, though. Friday finally rolls around and after classes and your shift at the campus bookstore, you’re absolutely beat. You trudge through your front door, set on getting a shower and going to bed.
Chris should still be at the radio station, he tends to work later on Fridays. It occurs to you that some self care may be in order, you could definitely use a good orgasm to make you feel better. With your mind made up, you grab your pajamas and your waterproof vibrator, quickly making your way to the bathroom.
The steam from the hot water fills the room and it instantly makes you relax just a little. Your shoulders are loosening up more every second you spend undressing. The stream of water hits your skin and an involuntary sigh escapes your lips. You stand under the falling water for a few moments, letting the warmth seep into your skin. Almost absent mindedly, you reach for your vibrator, clicking it to the lowest setting.You run your free hand down your body, stopping at your breast to fondle and pinch your nipple. You let a soft gasp and you bring the toy to your clit, just barely grazing it, teasing yourself.
The more tension that escapes you, the more you indulge yourself. You replace your vibrator with the shower head, the pressure hitting just the right spot. You slide the toy through your folds, down to your entrance, sliding it into your pussy slowly. The sound you make is louder this time, and you aren’t worried about the noise. It’s just you in the apartment and you need this. You fuck yourself faster, making sure to keep the pressure on your clit as you change the angle of your hand so the tip of the vibrator hits your sweet spot.
Your orgasm is approaching faster than you thought it would, but you’re absolutely fine with it. Clicking the vibration setting up one notch, you throw your head back against the tile of the shower wall. You release a drawn out moan, your hips bucking slightly into the toy, chasing your high. Right as the dam is about to break, you click the setting button to the highest setting. You crash head first into your orgasm. Whimpers and whines fall from your mouth as you ride out your high, biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning out your best friend’s name.
The next day comes earlier than you thought it would, mostly because you’re woken up to a loud voice. “Good morning, pretty girl! Rise and shine.” ‘Choke, you happy bastard.’ You feel bad for your immediate thought, but as you roll over and take a look at your clock, you feel slightly less bad. “Christopher. It is 8am. What the actual fuck?” The only response you get is a smile and the feeling of blankets being ripped off of you. You fix your gaze on him, giving him the harshest death glare you can manage at this time of day, which doesn’t appear to bother him a bit. “Up, woman. We have things to do. If I don’t hear the sink running in 5 minutes, I’m dragging you out of bed myself.” ‘This is going to be a long fucking day.’
Your hands are on the handle of the shopping cart while Chris holds on to the basket. He directs the cart himself, you’re essentially just there for appearances, you guess. He stopped to get you a coffee, a peace offering, which you had accepted. But that doesn’t mean your mood has drastically improved. He looks great, he always does, but today he’s glowing more than usual. ‘Stupid, beautiful, perfect man. How are you this chipper this early? You barely sleep.’
You watch as he grabs drinks and snacks, still having no idea what is going on. He had refused to tell you anything on the drive to the supermarket, didn’t want to”ruin the holiday spirit surprise”, whatever that means. Once he deems there are enough items in the cart, he directs the two of you to the checkout counter. You don’t even bother pulling out your wallet, knowing it wouldn’t do any good. Chris pays, oblivious to the way the cashier is making googly eyes at him.
After loading everything into the car, he opens the door for you, giving you a peck on the forehead. That causes you to duck your head to hide the blush that forms across your cheeks. You watch as he jogs around to the trunk, opening it and digging around for a second before he closes it and makes his way to the driver’s door. He turns to you as he’s buckling his belt, his voice soft. “Take yourself a nap, pretty. We have a bit of a drive ahead of us.” You give him a look, one which he ignores. ‘Where the hell is this crazy man taking me?’ You doze off before you can even think of a possible answer.
“Y/n. Wake up. We’re here.” The gentle swaying of your body coaxes you awake, your eyes automatically squinting to avoid the sun. Chris is already out of the car, already holding your door open. He takes your hand and helps you out of the car, pausing to let you stretch. He silently takes your hand, tugging gently, urging you to follow him. Your nose meets his back as he stops suddenly. You let out a tiny huff, rubbing your nose while he apologizes. “I’m sorry! I just forgot something!” He takes your hands away from your face to inspect you, making sure your nose isn’t bleeding, and presses a soft kiss to the tip. “Can you close your eyes for me? Please?” You do as he says without hesitation. “Good girl.” You shiver.
When you finally come to a stop, you guess that you must be inside somewhere. You can’t feel the sun on your skin, and the temperature has dropped slightly. You hear him shuffling around and as much as you want to see what’s going on, you keep your eyes closed. When he finally comes back to you, he grabs both of your hands and pulls you a little further forward. He drops your hands, and you feel him behind you, wrapping you up in his warmth. “Open.” You slowly lift your eyelids, both confused and in awe by what you see.
You’re in a barn, a blanket thrown across the ground. Pillows lay on the blanket, surrounded by the snacks and drinks you had gotten at the store. Everything is facing a wall, where a large projector screen hangs, the title screen for A Christmas Story paused on the screen. You hate cheesy Christmas movies, even when you liked Christmas. A Christmas Story is different, you could watch it all year round. Tears prick the corner of your eyes. No one has ever gone through such great lengths for you. “Chris…” Your voice breaks off and your best friend pulls you back into his chest and sets his chin on your shoulder. “Come on, let’s lay down. I brought an extra blanket to cover up with. I know how easily you get cold. There’s also more pillows in case the ground gets too hard.” You quickly spin around in his arms, latching your hands around his shoulders in a tight hug. “Thank you.” You feel him place a soft kiss on your hair.
Feeling happy and content, you press play.
“What has you in such a good mood?” You direct your attention to Hyunjin. He’s looking at you like you’re some sort of impostor. “What do you mean? I’m just in a good mood.” He scrunches his face like he’s just smelled something awful. “Y/n, it’s December. Today marks exactly two weeks until Christmas. In the two years I have known you, you have never just been in a good mood for no reason this close to Christmas.”
He’s right. You know that he’s right. You aren’t usually in an outright bad mood, but you certainly aren’t in a good mood for no reason. “Maybe I’m just having a good day.’ Your words come out in a mumble, you know they don’t sound convincing. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Aussie, would it?” You knew you shouldn’t have told Hyunjin about your feelings for Chris. In your defense, you didn’t tell him. He just seemed to read your mind and then you couldn’t deny it.
“Shut up.” You’re grumbling now, not liking that you’ve been so easily read. You can see the smug grin on Hyunjin’s face. He knows he’s hit the nail on the head and you just want to smack him. “We made a deal. He’s trying to get me over the Christmas hate. I’m not saying it’s working,” It is. “I’ve just been having alot of fun. You watch your friend’s eyes widen before the cocky smile is back on his face. “You guys are so gonna fuck.” That one finally earns him the smack.
It’s Thursday by the time you realize you haven’t had your small adventure this week, and you're surprised how sad you are about it. You’ve been pouting for two days because there has been no holiday fun. That thought alone makes you want to vomit. You definitely did not expect this. You? Wanting to do Christmasy stuff? Yuck.
The bookstore is quiet, which isn’t unusual, but it gives your thoughts too much power. Is it time to let go? You assume it is, but you aren’t sure if you’re fully ready. It sounds dumb, but if you stay angry, you focus on that instead of the hurt. It’s starting to fade, though. Finally. You’ve thought for years that if you just pretended that Christmas didn’t exist, you’d move on. But, you guess you were going about it the wrong way. Maybe you do need to embrace the season.
The bell above the door rings, signaling that someone has entered the store. You face the door, seeing your best friend walking in, stomping the snow off of his shoes. You give him a wave, a bright smile on your face, getting larger the closer he gets to you. “You don’t have much longer, right?” You shake your head, tilting it slightly to the side. He reads you like a book. “It’s time for our second mini adventure.” Your heart feels lighter.
There’s flour everywhere. It’s in your hair, it’s in his hair, it’s on the ceiling. The kitchen is a mess.
As soon as you had gotten home, Chris led you to the kitchen, where an array of cookie cutters were laid out on the counter. You didn’t even try to hide your smile. “Welcome to Bang’s Bakery.” You let out a snort at his customer service voice, his giggle filling the air around you. “We got snowmen, gingerbread men, Santa. You name it, we got it.” You immediately drift toward the metal shaped like a snowman, while Chris grabs the Santa cutter.
The first batch of cookies turned out…not the greatest. You had gotten lost in a dance party, letting them stay in the oven for too long. The second batch was better, but had almost zero flavor. The third batch is where things took a turn.
You had spilled the flour while trying to pour it into a measuring cup, a cloud coming from the plop it made on the counter. Chris let out a howl of laughter as he noticed your face covered in the remnants of the cloud. This just wouldn’t stand. No way. You hadn’t even taken a millisecond to think before reaching into the bag. A puff of flour hit Chris directly in the face. That shut him up. Briefly. He recovered quickly, a sly smile coming to his face. ‘Oh god, what have I done?’
He was on you before you knew it, fighting you for the bag of flour. There was no way you were going down without a full fight. You had snatched your arms back, turning to make a run for it. The flour stuck again. There was a white patch on the floor, which had somehow gotten mixed with some form of liquid. Your feet slid out from under you, causing you to hit the floor. The bag flew into the air, turned upside down and covered both you and Chris.
He slid to the floor beside you, both of you in hysterics. Your sides were hurting from laughing so hard. “Y’ok?” His question came out in between him trying to catch his breath. You couldn’t even answer, too lost in the joy you’re feeling. He goes silent all of a sudden, his hands coming to cup your face to get your attention. You stare at each other, neither of you speaking. His eyes dart between yours and your lips. Just as you both lean in, his phone rings, You jump apart as he gets up to answer. “Bin needs me at the station. I’m gonna shower and head out.” You give him a stiff nod and he turns to walk down the hallway.
The weekend brings rain. Rain brings this weekend’s activity inside. Chris won’t tell you what he had originally planned, all he told you was that he had to make due with what he had. That explained absolutely nothing.
A Christmas movie marathon. That was the backup plan. There was a slight disagreement on whether or not Die Hard is a Christmas movie, ‘it is’, but Chris disagrees. ‘He’s wrong.’ After that minor setback, the marathon is in full swing. The two of you are cuddled up under a blanket and you each have a mug of hot chocolate while Home Alone plays on the screen. Neither of you have brought up what happened after the flour fight, you aren’t even sure how you approach the subject.
You somehow move from cuddling side by side to you laying on his chest. You aren’t complaining, it feels right. It feels like this is where you are supposed to be. Your eyes start to get heavy when Chris starts to play with your hair. Your nose is filled with his cologne and your heart is full of love.
Time seems to both speed up and slow down the closer you get to Christmas. Four days. That’s all you have left. It feels good to not be dreading the day. You feel more light and carefree than you have in years. Chris had texted you earlier today, giving you strict instructions.
Cutie with a booty: lay a sheet down on the living room floor and make sure to wear comfy clothes that aren’t super important to you. No, I won’t tell you what we’re doing. Don't even ask.
So here you were, sitting on the floor in an old shirt from highschool and some ripped sweats you’ve been meaning to throw away, waiting for Chris to get home. Just as you’re about to call and ask where he is, you hear a key enter the lock. Chris comes in with shopping bags full of stuff, though you can’t tell what it is. “I hope you have your crafty cap on!” You look at him like he just spoke gibberish.”My fucking what?” The man snorts so hard that he almost drops the bags.
He sets all of the bags down on the sheet, plopping himself down afterwards. He reaches over, grabbing the bags and dumping the contents onto the sheet. Glue stick, cotton balls, glitter. All kinds of arts and crafts supplies, along with two plain red stockings. “We’re decorating stockings for each other. And no, you can not draw a penis on my stocking.” ‘Damn, He got me.’ You’re immediately hit with what you want to put on his stocking, confident that he’ll love it.
The two of you work in silence, both concentrated on your art. Chris is using a lot of glitter and a lot of black marker and you honestly have no idea what he could be doing. Looking down at your creation, you cringe slightly. You are in no way an artist, but you’re hoping he’ll at least be able to tell what your vision is. You grab your phone, needing a reference picture. Chris looks at you briefly, a disapproving look on his face. “Calm down, I just need a reference picture.” His look changes to confused, but you just wave him off.
An hour later, both stockings are ready and hiding behind your backs. “I'll go first. This is about you enjoying Christmas, after all.” He reaches behind him, the stocking in his hands when they come back to the front of his body. He hands you the fabric and you observe it. Your name is written across the top in purple glitter, a heart on each side. In the center sits two penguins. They're facing each other, holding each other’s flippers. In between them is a pebble. You want to cry. You do cry.
“Chris. It's perfect.” He scoots toward you, his thumb coming to wipe away your tears. “Aww don't cry.” You let him know that it's a cry of happiness as you pull yourself together. It's your turn now and you turn slightly grabbing your gift. You extend your arms, watching him take in what you've made.
LIke him, you’ve written something across the top, but it isn’t his name. ‘RooBoo’ is written in blue glitter, with pink layering over the top. You’ve used the gold glitter to attempt to draw a kangaroo, though it doesn’t really look like one. Same goes for the koala. In between the two animals, the shape of Australia is drawn and shimmering in green and gold. You bite your lip anxiously, waiting for his reaction. Nothing happens. He just stares. You start to worry that he doesn’t understand what it’s supposed to be, or worse, doesn’t like it.
All at once, he surges forward. He buries his face in your neck and wraps his arms around your waist. He just stays like that, not moving, not saying anything. You bring your arms around him, rubbing his back. You can feel moisture on your neck and it’s only then that you notice his soft shudders. “Chris?” You try to pull back to get a look at him, but he tightens his grip so you can’t go anywhere. “You have no idea how much that means to me. Thank you so fucking much.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but you hear him anyway. You place a kiss on his forehead and you two stay that way for a while longer.
Christmas Eve. The last day of your little deal, you’re beyond ready to admit to Chris that he had won during week two, but you want to see what his final surprise is. Knowing him, he’s going all out for this one. He’s out all day, and you’re pacing around waiting for his return. Around 6:30pm, you get a call. It’s short and to the point. “Be ready in an hour, dress cute but warm. I won’t be home until it’s time to pick you up. See you then, pretty girl.” He doesn’t even give you a chance to answer, he just hangs up. How dare he only give you an hour, you have to shower, do your hair, pick an outfit, there’s no way you can do all of that in an hour.
You manage to do it in 50 minutes, which you are very proud of by the way. Your hair is down, nothing fancy, but you know that Chris likes it like this. Your outfit is simple, a red and striped sweater, jeans and a coat. It may not look like the warmest choice, but you know you’ll be warm enough. There’s a knock on the door, which you find odd. Opening the door slowly, a mess of brown curly hair comes into view. Chris stands at your shared door, a bouquet in his hand. His hair is in its natural state, your absolute favorite look on him. He’s absolutely breathtaking. All you can do is stare. “Are you ready to go, sweetheart?” ‘Oh. Oh, that’s a new one.” Your heart beats in triple time, your stomach is a roller coaster. A nod is literally all you can manage. Your brain is telling your feet to move, your feet are not listening.
You finally will yourself to move, with much help from Chris since he took you by your hand after putting the flowers in a vase with water. The elevator ride is tense, but not in a bad way. You want to latch yourself to his side and never leave. And like he tends to do, he somehow reads your mind, pulling you into him and placing a kiss on your forehead, this one lingering a little longer than usual. When the doors open, he doesn’t remove his arm from your shoulder as he takes a step. Through the glass door of the lobby, you can see snow lightly falling. It’s beautiful.
A slight breeze hits your face as you step outside. You swivel your head, looking for Chris’ car. “We’re not driving anywhere, pretty.” You look at him, confusion written on your face, causing him to giggle and tip his head toward the park not far from your apartment building. ‘Oh! A walk in the park!’ You smile at the thought of just walking hand in hand around the park in the snow. Though, you’re just happy to spend Christmas Eve with your best friend. A small pang of hurt rushes through you at the thought that he is still only your best friend. Maybe you’ll finally confess at midnight.
Just outside the entrance to the park, there is a horse drawn sleigh. There are people circling around it, and as much as you want to pet the horse, you don’t want to fight your way through a crowd. Chris seems to have a different idea, though. He pulls you directly to the sleigh, letting go of your hand long enough to tell the driver his name and show the man his ID. He takes your hand again, leading you to the side of the sleigh. “After you.” You stand there gawking at him for a moment, his smile never faltering. He helps you into the sleigh, lifting the blanket that’s placed on the seat so the two of you can slide under it.
The view of the park tonight is unlike anything you have ever seen. There are Christmas lights strung up through the trees. Soft instrumental versions of Christmas songs play through the speakers placed around. There are families playing in the snow, lovers dancing around the lake. The whole park is a magical place. “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” His voice draws your attention to him, making eye contact. “Chris, this is amazing. Everything is so beautiful. How did you do this?” His smile widens at your words. “I cheated a little. There was an ad at the radio station. We were supposed to be the first to announce it. I called and booked the first ride before I read the ad.” Your laughter is the loudest sound in the park, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Of course he used the station.
He slings his arm around you when your head lands on his shoulder and brings you closer to him. You’re close to sitting in his lap at this point. “Chris.” “Y/n.” You speak at the same time and you both giggle. You playfully argue over who should go first, and Chris finally takes the spotlight.
“I said that I was spending this month trying to get you to like Christmas again, and I meant that. But that was a minor part of everything I’ve done. I wanted you to know what it’s like to be loved, genuinely loved, on Christmas. I know this time of year is hard for you, and understandably so, but I want you to know that you have someone who is here for you. You have someone who will never leave. You have someone that loves you more than words could ever explain. I love you, Y/n. I just wanted you to feel that love.”
You have no words. You have tears, but no words. You have tears, no words, and your lips on his.
You feel like you're floating. Are your feet on the ground? You don’t know. You can feel your hand in his, but you can’t feel your feet. And you aren’t bothered by it. Because you can feel his lips on yours. You walk through the doorway of your shared apartment, giving each other sweet kisses. It’s only when you’re fully inside with the door closed that the kisses deepen. Chris cups your face with both of his hands, one sliding up to run through your hair. You’re already in bliss. He pulls back slightly, his breath fanning across your lips. “Tell me how you want this to go, baby. We can stop here and have dinner, or we can go to my room.” You have never uttered a sentence out faster. “Your room, please. I think we’ve waited long enough, yeah?”
Before you realize what’s happening, he swoops you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style to his room, pressing his lips to yours the entire way. He doesn’t even bother closing the bedroom door behind himself, immediately moving to place you gently on his bed. You scoot yourself further up, beckoning him closer. He slowly crawls onto the bed to hover over you, his right handing coming back to your face as he leans down to kiss you again. His left hand makes a home on your hip, rubbing slow, soft circles with his thumb. There is no urgency in your shared kisses, only the need to be close and show each other the love that you feel.
You kiss until both of your lips are swollen and red and Chris finally pulls back, just to admire you. “You are beyond beautiful. I love you so much.” His words are quiet, like he’ll break the magic moment if he speaks any louder.
“I realize I haven’t told you how I feel yet.” You take a deep breath, preparing yourself to spill your feelings. “You are the kindest, most genuine person I have ever met. You go out of your way to make sure that everyone you care about is taken care of, even if that means not taking care of yourself.” You pause briefly, giving him a look. “We’ll talk about taking better care of you later.” He giggles as he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “When we met, I had no idea how important you would become to me, and now that I know, I never want to not have you here. And I’m not worried that I’ll have to deal with that. You have given me more hope and love than I ever thought possible and I am so fucking in love with you.”
The kiss you receive in response is softer than the others and you aren’t sure how that is possible. You can feel every ounce of care this man holds for you in the barely there kiss. It makes your head spin. Slowly, his lips travel from yours down to your neck, sucking softly at the skin. You arch into him, gasping at how good it feels just to have his lips on you. His kisses travel lower, stopping at the edge of your sweater. “Can I take this off of you, babygirl?” You clench around nothing at the pet name, and of course Chris notices. He notices everything about you.
You give him a nod and his hands slowly pull the sweater over your head, his eyes locked on yours as he removes it completely. Out of instinct, your hands move to cover yourself, but he grabs them before they make contact with your breasts. “Please don’t hide from me, my love. I want to see all of you. You’re so pretty.” Something churns inside of you at his compliments and you will yourself to keep your arms down. He trails his eyes down your chest, zeroing in on the fabric of your bra. He lifts his eyes back to yours, a silent question swirling in his brown irises. You give him a firm nod, not wanting him to sense any hesitation. You have no hesitation.
You reach around and unclasp your bra, bringing the straps down your shoulder until the garment falls onto your lap. “Fuck.” His voice is strained and you can hear the lust in his tone. But you can also hear the love. His hands rise to your chest, thumbs flicking over your nipples slowly. You let out a soft moan, biting your lip. His touch doesn’t linger for long, moving down to the top of your jeans. “Do you still want to keep going, baby? We don’t have to.” You love how he checks in with you before doing anything, it makes you feel so comfortable, like your comfort is more important than his desire. And you know that that is exactly how he feels.
“Chris, please.” The whine in your voice seems to do something to him because he groans as he begins to unbutton your jeans. While his hands are occupied removing you from the confines of your clothes, his lips press against your stomach. He takes his time with you and even though you’re soaked at this point, you don’t dare try to rush him. You can tell that he wants to worship you, and you intend to let him. His lips touch every new piece of skin that is revealed, not wanting to leave any part of you untouched. He leans back to take in the view of you. Your hair is slightly messy from his hands running through it. Your cheeks are flushed as you lay there in only your panties. You buck your hips up at him once and his hands immediately move to take the ruined fabric off.
Once you’re bare beneath him, you gain a little confidence, spreading your legs so he can see your core. He outright moans at the sight. You can see his cock straining against his jeans, it’s big, that much you can tell. Your hole clenches at the thought of taking him, and again he takes notice. “What dirty thoughts are you thinking to have you clenching like that, babygirl?” The name makes you clench again and he smirks. “Oh? Y’like that do you? Like when I call you babygirl?” You spread your legs further apart as give him a nod, another groan coming from the gorgeous man in front of you.
“Yes, Daddy.” You stiffen. You have no idea where that came from. Never have you called a man daddy in bed, but for some reason, it felt so right that it just slipped out. Chris growls at that and you know you’ve found a weak spot for him. “Look at my pretty baby, all wet for me. Daddy’s gonna take good care of you, babygirl.” He lowers himself to the floor, grabbing at your ankles and slowly pulling your core toward his face. “Still good, baby?” Another nod from you and he presses a kiss to your clit. The contact has you arching into him, your obvious pleasure making his tongue dart out of his mouth to taste you.
You try to keep your moans down as he devours you. You have a hand in his hair, not pulling, simply running your fingers through it. He alternates between circling your clit with his tongue and slipping the muscle inside of you, ending the pattern with a suck to your clit. The pleasure is overwhelming. It’s too much and it’s not enough. Your moans increase slightly in volume, until Chris stops his lovely attack on your pussy.
“Let me hear you, baby. I know you can do better than that. I heard you in the shower, you sounded so fucking beautiful. The best song I’ve ever heard.” You know you should be embarrassed, but you aren’t. His words only cause a new wave of arousal and a loud moan to escape you. “That’s it. There’s my good girl.” Another clench. Chris chooses this moment to slide a finger into you, curving it instantly, looking for the soft spot inside of you. He knows he’s found it when you buck your hips up and groan and he moves his face back down to lick at you more.
The combination of his tongue and fingers turn out to be deadly. You’re rapidly approaching your high. “Chris, please. I’m so close.” He picks up the pace of his fingers, pressing into your sweet spot on every thrust. Your moans flow out of you now, even if you wanted to stop them, you wouldn’t be able to. “There we go. Come on, babygirl. You can do it. Cum for me, cum for Daddy.” Your vision blurs, stars explode from your peripherals. Chris helps you ride out your orgasm before slowly pulling his fingers from you. “Can you open up for me, sweetheart?” Your mouth opens without you having to tell it to, and his fingers find their way onto your tongue. “Suck. See how good you taste.” You obey him without pause, moaning at the taste of yourself on his fingers.
He pulls his fingers from your mouth, moving them down to the button of his jeans, while the other hand reaches towards the nightstand for a condom. You reach out and grab his wrist, shaking your head. “Wanna feel you. All of you.” You can see his eyes glaze over with lust, but he still asks if you’re sure. You nod, you don’t think you’ve ever been so sure of something in your life. He moves with a little more haste as he kicks his pants off. “Holy shit.” You didn’t mean to say the words out loud, but one look at his cock has your mouth watering, but it also has you wondering if it’s going to fit. He has one hand slowly stroking himself, moving closer to your cunt, sliding himself through your folds. “Relax for me, love. All you have to do is relax and let me in.”
He pushes into you slowly, a deep, drawn out groan coming from his throat. A high pitched whine leaves you at the same time, a harmony of pleasure. Once he’s fully sheathed inside of you, he pauses, not moving. “Fuck, baby. You’re so tight. Fit me perfectly. Cunt was made for daddy’s cock, huh?” All you can do is nod and whine, and bring your legs to wrap around his waist. You manage to buck your hips slightly, trying to get him to move. He pulls his hips back slowly, pulling out until only the tip of his cock is resting inside of you. He shoves his cock back into you all at once, not too roughly, but making sure to hit deep.
Your body moves into a deep arch at his thrusts, all hitting the spongy part inside of you perfectly. You’re already working your way to another orgasm. “Feel so good, baby. So glad I get to have you like this. Love you so much.” His thrusts start to speed up and you can tell that he’s holding himself back, wanting you to finish one more time before he lets himself go. “I’m close, sweet girl. Think you can come for me one more time? Come with me this time?” Tears are pricking the edges of your eyes and you quickly nod. “So close. So close, Love you. So close.” Your words come out jumbled, but you think Chris understands. He speeds up a little more, the both of you moaning in time with each other. Chris leans down so his mouth is right next to your ear. “Now, baby. Come now. I love you. You can do it.” You cum with a cry of his name, your pussy clamping down on his cock sends him into his own orgasm, groaning as he fills you.
You’re both panting by the time you come down. Chris slowly pulls out slowly, watching his seed dribble out of your spent hole. His hand twitches like he wants to push it back inside of you, but he doesn’t. He turns and leaves, you can hear the faucet running in the bathroom. He comes back with a warm cloth, carefully cleaning you up and adding a kiss to your forehead. He helps you up, walking with you to the bathroom so you can pee. When you emerge from the bathroom, he’s standing by the door with a bottle of water. He really is perfect.
Once you get back to his room, he gives you a shirt of his to wear to bed. “Need me to go get underwear from your room?” His thoughtfulness makes you smile. “Nah. Don’t need ‘em.” He smirks at that, knowing that you mean that this will lead to morning sex and he’s all for it. He joins you on his bed again, pulling you into his arms. “So, it’s midnight. How are you feeling about Christmas?” You’re silent for a moment, thinking of what you want to say. Pulling back to look at him, you smile.
“It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”
#16 days of smutmas 2023#cultofdionysusnet#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines#stray kids fanfic#stray kids fanfiction#stray kids fluff#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#bang chan scenarios#bang chan imagines#bang chan fanfiction#bang chan fanfic#bang chan fluff#bang chan smut#bang chan x reader
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Hellooo 😄 I love your blog and your fics so much! You’re very very talented and you’re feeding my tlou clown brain lmao. If you’re still taking requests for Joel, I think a fic with joel fussing over his shy girl after a close call with a clicker would be super cute. He’d be super worried and she would be the one doing the comforting bc dammit he’s lost so much already almost losing her leaves him emotional.
AN | Aww, but I love this. Just a whole lot of fluff and sweetness!
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language; TLOU typical violence
Word Count | 3k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You were trying your best to be as quiet as possible, which happened to be quite a challenge when you were walking through the woods. It was impossible to know exactly what was lying ahead, so all you could was to be as alert and cautious as possible,
And you were positive that you were doing a good job…until you stepped on a thick branch and it snapped loudly under your feet. You swallowed thickly as you froze, looking around wildly to make sure nothing heard you or decided to come out and attack you. You know, just the average afternoon in this world.
As you got ready to move on, deciding that nothing was coming after you, the unmistakable sound of a clicker. You were trying to decide if you should run away in panic, call for Joel, or try and handle it on your own.
In the midst of your dilemma, the clicker made its appearance and was running towards at a speed that it really shouldn’t have possessed. Fuck.
Your shaking hand was reaching for the knife that was strapped to your thigh as you tried to walk backwards. But, as fortune would have it, your foot caught on a tree root and you tripped over it, stumbling and landing on your back. It was rapidly lunging at you and your first instinct was to hold up the knife and wave it around to try and get a good stab in.
But before you even had to worry about attempting to stab its brain, a gunshot rang out. The frantic scrambling of the clicker ceased and it crumbled to the ground, landing on your feet. Your entire body was shaking as you scrambled out from under its grasp, dropping the knife as you tried to keep the tears from spilling over and crying out loud.
“Honey,” you heard Joel’s voice before you saw him. At this point, your tears pearled up and ran down your cheeks as he dropped to his knees and looked you over. There was nothing but pure worry on his face as he looked you over. You shook your head, silently letting him know that you were okay and had escaped unscathed, “are you okay? What happened?”
“I-I’m okay,” you promised in between sniffles as he took your face in his hands and gently brushed your tears away, “I stepped on a branch and it heard me and then came at me so fast. I tripped over a root a-and it was coming at me. You saved me.”
“Shhh,” he gently shushed you as he pulled you into his arms, hugging onto you tightly as you melted into his arms, “you’re okay. I’ve got you - I’ve always got you, baby.”
“I thought it was going to get me,” you buried your face into his chest, trying to slow your cries down, “I-I thought it was going to-”
“Hey,” he rubbed your back in soothing circles, trying to get that horrible image and idea out of your mind. He didn’t even want to think about it…it might have been the worst thought that he could have had, “don’t worry about that. It didn’t happen, it won’t ever happen.”
“Okay,” he felt you nod, your tears wetting the collar of his shirt. It didn’t matter to him though, he would have taken a million wet shirts as long as he knew that you were okay, “you’re right. Nothing bad will ever happen when we have each other.”
“Exactly,” he promised, pulling back so he could press gentle kisses to your cheeks and forehead before stopping at your lips, “I love you.”
“I love you.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You could feel his eyes on you. Again.
It seemed you could never go far anymore without him watching you, making sure that you were okay. You looked up from where you were sitting near the dying fire, offering him a small smile before you turned your attention to the smoldering embers. Once upon a time ago, you would have been making s’mores.
Joel made sure to check on Ellie who was lying in her sleeping bag and reading a book she had brought along before making his way over to you. He sat down on the log next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you leaned into his side.
“You doin’ alright?” he whispered softly as you let out a small sigh. It had been a couple days since the incident and he almost hadn’t let you out of his sight since. You shrugged and Joel’s arm instinctively tightened around you, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you shifted so you could look at him, a pout on your lips. You knew he wouldn’t let it go until he got a decent answer; his stubbornness was one of the things you loved most about him, but sometimes it was overwhelming, “I just feel bad, I dunno.”
“Whatever for?”
“Worrying you,” you admitted shyly, “making you feel like you constantly have to look out for me now. There’s so much else to worry about, including Ellie, and now you have to add me to that list.”
“Is that really what you think?” he asked, an eyebrow perking up in surprise as you found it hard to meet his eyes, “you think all I do is worry about you?”
“I don’t think that’s all you do,” you bit the inside of your cheek as you tried - a vain attempt - to keep from getting too emotional, “I just feel like…I guess I’m just like a burden to you.”
“You are a lot of things,” he laughed softly and the change of emotion caught you off guard, “but a burden you are not. You are anything but a burden, baby.”
“Are you-”
“I’m positive,” he pressed his finger to your lips and shook his head. You couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up at his silliness, “all I’m doing is looking out for my baby, okay?”
“Okay,” you mumbled against his finger before wrapping yours around his wrist and gently pulling your hand away, “I’ll protect you too if you ever need it.”
“I know,” his smile was breathtakingly beautiful; you tried to coax it out of him as much as possible, “I know you’ll kick everyone’s ass if you need to.”
“Duh.”
“Can you guys stop being so gross and lovey?” Ellie groaned at the top of you before she tossed an acorn over at the two of you, “some of us are trying to read.”
“We love you too, Ellie Bean,” you said softly and despite her words, you spotted the smile tugging up the corners of her mouth.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Joel insisted that he wasn’t overstressed or worried about you. But that had been a lie; he’d always been big on protecting you but after your close incident with the clicker, that urge to keep you safe increased ten-fold.
And to be quite honest…you didn’t totally hate it. The primal part of your brain melted at the idea of Joel looking out for you and protecting you. You were his sweet, shy girl, he’d always keep you safe.
“Are you warm enough?” his sleepy, gruff voice cut through your late night thoughts as he pulled closer into his body. You were all curled up into him, his frame practically draped all over you and his smell comforting. How could you not be warm enough?
“Mhmm,” you shuffled around in his arms so you could turn to face him. You offered up your own sleepy smile as you captured his lips in a soft kiss. You liked kissing Joel, a lot, but there was something about late night sleep kisses that always made your heart melt, “plenty warm and toasty, handsome.”
“You’d tell me if you were cold, right?” you could pick out that tone of worry in his voice immediately. You chuckled softly and nodded as best as you could, “I don’t want you to freeze.”
“I’m not going to freeze,” you huffed in amusement, “you’re like a radiator anyway.”
“Just want to make sure you’re okay,” his pretty eyes were already closing again, his arm wrapped around your waist and his fingers tracing aimless shapes into your soft skin, “can’t have you suffering.”
“I’m not,” you promised, “now hush so we can both get back to sleep.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Joel fretted over you, looking over every inch of what you were wearing. You tried to wave him off but he was having none of it. His hands were on your shoulders and his brow furrowed as you tried to contain the grin on your face.
“Are you sure you’re all geared up?” he was asking himself more than anything, a concentrated expression on his face. He looked over your shirt, and sweater, along with the knife on your thigh, the flashlight clipped to your backpack strap, and checked to make sure your boots were properly laced.
Once he was satisfied with his look over, he put a finger under your chin and turned your face up to his. A reverent little smile was tugging up the corner of your mouth as you studied those pretty honey brown eyes, “well, tell me, am I properly geared up?”
“I suppose you’ll do,” he tried his best to keep his voice serious but you could hear the amusement, “you comfortable, baby? Not too hot, not too cold, everything secured?”
“Affirmative captain,” you beamed and the sight was almost enough to make his heart feel all warm and fuzzy, “what about you, Joel? Got everything you need, all comfortable and ready for action? Which hopefully won’t happen…”
“I’m all good,” he was quick to dismiss your worry but you weren’t about to let him get away that easily. You tutted at him, putting your hands on his shoulders and leaning up to press a kiss to his lips, “really, I-”
“No, no, no,” you narrowed your eyes at him, in malice in the look, only affectionate sternness. He held up his hands in mock surrender as you gave him a firm, satisfied nod, “you get to fret over me, so I get to do the same over you.”
“But there’s-”
“You should know better than to argue with your…what does he call you?” There was a shit -eating grin on Ellie’s face as she looked between the two of you. Joel had experienced one moment of panic and slipped up and she hadn’t let him live it down since, “mine? I think that’s what you called her. Don’t argue with your mine!”
“Ha ha,” he rolled his eyes at the younger girl but there was a pretty tinge of pink coloring his cheeks as you laughed at the two of them. He turned his attention back to you, opening and closing his mouth a few times, “I…didn’t. It just happened in the moment.”
“Lucky for you I like being called yours,” you playfully patted his cheek, “besides, I think labels at this day and age just feel so…weird? Arbitrary? Something like that.”
“It wouldn’t feel right calling you my girlfriend,” he agreed, “you’re so much more than that.”
“Consider me flattered,” you took a step back and gave him a coy little smile, “too bad I only think of you as my boyfriend.”
You turned on your heel as you trekked after Ellie, a spring in your step. You felt him staring after you, able to perfectly picture the expression on his face.
“Wait -” he followed after you, easily catching up with you, “what do you mean just your boyfriend?”
“Relax,” you turned around so you were facing him and walking backwards, “it was just a joke, handsome. You’re so much more than just my boyfriend. You’re…well, I can’t really put it into words. But, if it’s any consolation, you’re everything to me.”
“Now you’re just flattering me,” he snorted as you shook your head.
“I mean it, Joel Miller,” you reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his, “I love you, handsome.”
“I love you, baby.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The rain had brought life back into the woods you were still working your way through; it was an oddly comforting thing. You broke off from Joel and Ellie once you were all settled for the evening and went down to the pond where you’d noticed a bunch of frogs start to come out.
You grinned as you made your way over to the edge, listening to the melodic croaking from all around you. This reminded you of all the times you’d done this as a kid - even as a young adult - before the world fell apart. It was something so simple, but so comforting.
Despite the fact that the ground was muddy and wet, you plopped onto your bum and started watching the frogs and other creatures going about their little business. You had to repress your squeal of delight as some of the frogs came near you, and an even braver one jumped into your hand.
“Hey there little buddy,” you held him up to your face so you could study him, grinning when he crooked softly at you, “it’s so good to see you too. I’m sure you must really like the rain.”
Almost as if he understood you, he made a few more sounds before settling himself in your palm. The sheer trust this little critter had in you made your heart ache; if only people could be like this. You like to believe in the kindness and good hearts of people, but the years had taught not to be so trusting.
As if you were some sort of Disney princess, you spied a few bunnies coming out and hopping around, their little noses twitching happily. You remained still as you held out your hand in a silent invitation; you were even more surprised when the small bunny decided to take you up on it.
The chocolatey brown rabbit made its way over, sniffing your hand and studying you for a few moments before nudging his head against your hand. You let the small fluff ball take his time before finally petting him out of your own volition.
“Hey friend,” you cooed softly, “you are too cute.”
He wiggled his way into your lap, already so trusting as you just beamed at him. You inhaled excitedly as you petted him, tears threatening to well up. It had been so long since you’d gotten to pet or touch any sort of animal. This was a moment that made the world feel much less terrifying and harsh than it was.
“I like you,” you picked him up and clutched him to your chest, pressing a kiss to the top of his head and velvety ears. You knew that if Joel was there in the moment, he’d chide you for getting so close to a dirty animal. But you didn’t care - not that at that moment.
You laid down, back on the damp ground but not a care in the world. Your new companion hopped all over your torso, chasing your hand for pets and rubbing its little face onto your skin.
“That tickles,” you told him through giggles but the little bunny didn’t care. You started to play with him, laughing and squealing at how funny and happy he was, “you’re so cute, it’s not fair!”
You didn’t hear the footsteps running through the clearing until you heard his sharp call of your name. You startled at the sound and lifted your head off the ground to find Joel standing at the edge of the pond, chest rising and falling heavily as he stared at you. His face was an indiscernible mask as you held up your hand in a weak little wave.
“Hi,” you gave him a guilty little expression as your new friend also looked at Joel, “everything alright, my love?”
“I called for you,” his hands were on his hips as he walked over to you. You knew that stance all too well, “and you were gone. I’m walking around and looking for you when I heard what could be either crying or laughing. Naturally, my mind went to the worst possible conclusion. Especially after what happened not that long ago - you need to be more careful, baby.”
“Sorry,” your face flushed with warmth as you slowly sat up, gently holding onto the bunny, “I said I was going to the pond, I thought you’d heard me.”
“It’s alright,” he came over and crouched down so he was eye level with you. With a heavy sigh, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I’m glad you’re okay. What are you even doing out here - it’s wet and cold.”
“Enjoying a slice of life,” you gestured around, “the frogs came out with the rain and I wanted to see them. I used to love seeing them as a kid. And then I met this little guy! He’s precious…I wish we could keep him.”
“You’re something else,” he shook his head with nothing but reverent fondness as he too touched the bunny’s ears, “but I’m glad you were able to find a little bit of peace. If things were different, I’d say we could keep him, but…”
“I know,” you smiled sadly at the creature, “it was nice while it lasted. Sorry buddy…I’m sure you’ll be happy to stay with your family.”
He nudged his nose against your finger, almost as if he could understand what you were saying. You set him back down and he started to hop away, but turned around before he disappeared and gave you one last look. You saw his little family waiting nearby for him.
“Hey,” Joel gently tapped his fingers against your cheek, “it’ll be okay. One day we’ll get a pet in our own home.”
“Promise?”
“Of course,” he took your hand in his much larger one and helped you to your feet. He pulled you into his arms and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, “I love you, sweet girl.”
“I love you, handsome.”
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller one shot#joel miller imagine#pedro pascal#tlou#tlou hbo
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Part 1
Part 4
Part 6
Part 5 of the roommates idea
Okay okay, so before this starts, a lot of people have mentioned me posting this on ao3, and my question is if you guys mean it as it is, or if I should make two or three new parts to make up for the first part.
Because in the first part, we miss a lot of possible moments between Steve and Eddie since it skips to the basic idea.
This whole thing was meant to be a messy and quick way to get my ideas out, but then people ended up actually liking it, and well, I just want you guys to like the outcome.
Basically, I wanna know if I should;
A.Post it on ao3 as is
B. Post it on ao3 with two to maybe four parts instead of the original post, and have me do part six after I make those. (I'm a decently quick writer when I'm motivated, all these parts so far have been within a day or two)
C. Make the parts instead of the original post, and have this be a big one-shot on ao3(meaning it wouldn't be posted on there until this is finished)
I am really leaning towards B, just cause I wanna do those interactions (one of which would be Eddie coming out to Steve), but I wanna see what you guys think first.
This whole thing is kinda a wreck cause I don't usually post fics on Tumblr but hopefully it will get better with time.
After Dustin explains the upside down, and Eddie talks about what really happened, they come to a sort of agreement.
Eddie was to stay at the boathouse, and someone would occasionally come over with a supply of drinks and food.
Steve, of course, despised this, because Eddie is his best friend-(And who was he kidding? Goddamn crush, too)-dammit, but he let the plan go on anyway.
Before they left, Steve turned to Eddie, brows pinched together.
“Stay safe, alright? If you get hurt because you do something stupid, I’ll beat the shit out of you.”
Eddie laughed, loud and full, “Kinda counterproductive, aye sweetheart?”
He stopped when Steve didn’t laugh or make a joke back. “I’ll be fine, and I’ll walkie if things go to shit.”
“Good.” Steve gave him a little peck on the corner of his lips, “Don’t die, man. Can’t take care of these little shits by myself.”
He turned to face Max, and a gaping Dustin and Robin.
“Lets go, nerds”
-
Steve stared at the ground, unblinking.
One of his kids were gonna die.
Eddie had had apparently left the boathouse
Eddie was being hunted.
Two more students have been murdered.
He licked his lips, and his eyes flicked up to watch Powell talk about the town hall meeting.
They were royally fucked.
“Dustin, can you hear me? Wheeler? Stevie?”
Steve’s eyes widened and he turned around in time to see Dustin snatch the walkie.
“Eddie, holy shit. Are you okay?”
The walkie took a second to crackle back to life.
“Nah man, pretty uh, pretty goddamn far from okay.”
“Where is he?”Nancy asked, already halfway back into the car.
“Where are you?”
“Skull Rock, Steve knows it.”
Steve smiled, grabbing the walkie and clicking down on the button, “Hold on tight, Ed-stefer, we’re on our way.” He tossed it back to Dustin before turning to Nancy.
“I’m driving.”
She scrunched her nose, but didn’t question it and swapped to the passenger's side.
-
“Dude, I’m telling you, you’re leading us the wrong way.”
“It’s North, I’m positive! I checked the map.”
Steve sighed and pinched his nose, “This is literally Eddie and I’s spot, we come here all the time.”
“That doesn’t have to do with it being a make-out spot, does it?” Lucas asked hesitantly from his spot in the back.
“Jesus, no Sinclair, this does not have to do with- Eddie and I are just friends.”
Robin scoffed, “Didn’t you kiss him earlier?” She asked.
“As friends. He doesn’t like me like that.”
“Right, but you like him like that, though?”
“Oh wow, suddenly we’re here, y’know, at the place you said we weren’t gonna end up at?” Steve yelped, gesturing broadly at the rocks around him.
Lucas has to physically bite his lip to keep from mentioning that he had absolutely picked that up from Eddie, or that Eddie had picked it up from him.
“See? You little butthead, I was right.”
Theres a rustle of leaves and then,
“I concur, you, Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead.”
Steve turned to face the man and almost collapsed in relief, hes not hurt.
“Jesus Eddie, we thought you were a goner.” Dustin sighed, as he made his way past Steve to hug Eddie.
“Yeah, me too man. Me too.”
The hug goes on for maybe ten seconds before Eddie’s pulling back and bringing Steve into a side one, you know, like some kind of dad. “I tried calling you guys, but uh…”
His face turned sheepish and he stepped back a bit to grab some water from a canister. “My walkie was busted, man.”
“Drenched.” He adds in after a second, laughing a bit.
He took another sip from the bottle before wiping and extra drops away from his mouth. “So, uh, I did the thing that I do now apparently. I ran.” He let out another laugh, this one was a little bit more self-deprecating.
“Do you know what time this was? The attack.”
Eddie perked up, and grabbed at his wrist, “ Yeah, no, I um, know exactly what time it was.”
He held up a watch, the dials on it weren’t moving. “My walkie wasn’t the only thing that got soaked.”
“9:27…”
“Same times our flashlights went kablooey.” Robin says, and her eyes light up like she connected the dots.
Steve hadn’t, “Which means what exactly?”
“That that surge of energy was Vecna attacking Patrick.”
Steve half-zoned out, silently going through the events in his head, while maintaining conversation.
“Skull Rock was North.”
“An electromagnetic field.”
“What say you, Eddie the Banished?”
Steve tuned back in, a hundred percent now. He turned to look at Eddie, who was still crouching, and damn how did his back not hurt?
“I say you’re asking me to follow you into Mordor,” Steve perked up, he kind of knew this one, “-which, if I’m totally straight with you, I think it’s a really bad idea.”
And Steve nodded along, because yeah, this was a terrible idea.
“But uh, the Shire, the Shire is burning, so Mordor it is.”
He whistled at Eddie when everyone got up, and he was by Steve’s side in seconds.
“You’re not hurt or anything, are you? Cause you don’t look it but…”He trailed off, and Eddie grinned.
“I am all-good Steve-O.” Steve nodded, “Good, good.”
Suddenly, there was a sharp gasp from right next to him, “Were you, perhaps, worried?!” Steve kicked a rock instead of answering.
It just made Eddie’s grin widen further.
“You totally were! Stevie Harrington, The-Former-King-Of-Hawkins turned sweetheart, worrying over lil-ol-Eddie-The-Freak-Munson!”
Steve scoffed, “ First off, I’d like to think I’ve always been a sweetheart, second off, keep it in your pants, dude.”
Eddie cackled, leaning into his side, “Yeah, yeah! You’re right. You’ve kinda been like that for the past two years, Mr.Eddie-Cant-Carry-A-Fucking-Hot-Pan-Anymore.” He laughed, ignoring the second part of Steve’s statement.
He huffed, “Just don’t want you getting hurt.”
Eddie booped his nose, “Yeah yeah, you’re just you like that.”
Tag List
@bxlthazar@i-have-three-feelings@leverage-ot3@mightbeasleep@badcaseofcasey@joruni@original-cypher@aceflavouredyougurt@flustratedcas@lovelylilbadone@labels-are-for-the-weak@steddieassheg0es@gregre369
#steve being “just you like that” is him being a tiny bit afraid eddie will fuck up and burn himself#hes just self-sacrificial like that#stranger things ficlet#steddie ficlet#steddie#ficlet#stranger things#steve x eddie#eddie munson x steve harrington#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve harrington#eddie munson#and they were roommates#oh my god they were roommates#crisisinverted17#crisisinverted17's roommate au
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I wish every fandom I’m in had something like this lol. Browsing your tags and recommendations is so much fun!
This might be a bit specific but I’m looking for the following: it’s between season 1 and 2, Crowley’s been kicked out of his flat by hell and living in his car; Aziraphale, somehow, finds out and makes him move into the bookshop.
Thanks so much for the help and all the great work you do, I hope you have a great day!
We have some fics along these line here. Now I have a few more where Aziraphale finds out Crowley is living in the bentley...
4 times Crowley lies about living in his car by dat_carovieh (G)
and one time he doesn't
And They Were Roommates (Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time) by WritingAspirations (M)
Aziraphale found out Crowley was living out of his car, and drags him to live with the angel at the bookshop.
Revelations, apologies, and steps forward are made.
Home by RitzWrites (G)
There were very few things Crowley enjoyed about being a demon. The best one, in his opinion, was that he couldn’t get hungover. However, that didn’t stop him from getting drunk enough to black out.
He was no stranger to getting blackout drunk, of course, but he was still shocked to wake up on a familiar couch instead of his Bently.
or
Aziraphale finds out Crowley has been living in his car and decides to do something about it.
let's sort the whole thing out by moonyinpisces (T)
“But you like sleeping,” Aziraphale replies, as if that means something. “All the more reason to move in with me. And I have–I have your favorite couch, for starters. And a bedroom, with a lovely, fluffy bed with only the thinnest layer of dust–”
Crowley scoffs. “Yeah, angel. A bedroom, as in, singular. I told you, there's just not enough room–”
“Precisely,” says Aziraphale, relieved to be understood. “Singular. It’s not as though we’ll be needing more than one.”
… Pardon?
Pet Demon by McRibFarewellTour (NR)
Aziraphale finds out about Crowley's recent living arrangements and takes action, both in protection of Crowley and of their friendship. Unfortunately, Crowley's got a well of evidence that said friendship doesn't even really exist, so the task is harder than it seems.
nature is healing (or something like that, anyhow) by nightbloomingcereus (T)
Well. If Aziraphale could be stubborn, so could Crowley. He didn’t need Aziraphale, or his bookshop, dammit. He was going to take a nap, exactly like he’d said he would, and he wasn’t going to get up again until the world, and a certain frustrating angel, stopped being such a downer.
It was the perfect plan.
Or it would have been, had he still had his bloody bed in his bloody flat in bloody fucking Mayfair.
Or, the one where Crowley takes his three-year-long pandemic nap in his plant-filled Bentley.
- Mod D
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Are you kidding me.... ARE YOU GODDAMN KIDDING ME!????
You are telling me to abandon the ship i've been shipping for 10+ yrs, that the fandom has been shipping for 20+ yrs?????
I am sorry but, that's just insane. How could you do that to us??? It hasn't even been 2 weeks since Kaishin day and you drop that on us Gosho?????
How could you make kaishin, cousins just to justify their similar looks (and other similarities).....
Yes, I'll forever believe this was the reason why he gave us a cousin reveal (after 20+ yrs!!).... and also cuz kaishin was taking over his canon couple,,, no matter what other reason might be there or what he may give.
You wanted them to be cousins from the beginning? Then why the hell did you wait for over 20 yrs to reveal that??? Yeah no, I am not believing in any of the reasons Gosho gives for "revealing" them as cousins after over two decades.
Canon can go into the trash can and fuck itself (and f u too Gosho).
If they were going to be cousins from the beginning, they should have never given us the kaishin food for all these yrs. Neither in the manga, nor in the movies.
All that poetry Shinichi spouts everytime he is describing Kaito? That one time Shinichi held his dick? Those kissing noises in M 3? That trust they show in each other M 8 (and that train arc??)?? And I can go on and on and on about all the times they added flame to the fire and made kaishin shippers grow into what it is today.
And then suddenly they drop "cousins" on us
And you want me to accept that?? Yeah, no. Not gonna happen.
Kaishin has helped me cope with so many things, I am not gonna drop it, I am not accepting this canon.
If people want to, they are free to do so. If they want to purge their kaishin fanworks, you can do that (tho it would be incredibly sad to loose the fanworks. This fandom has some of the best fics and fanworks i've come across), if you want to leave the ship, you can do that too (which, again, would be very sad, cuz I've met some of the nicest people in this fandom, and it's one of the few fandom ship spaces that is not so tixic... as compared to many other fandom ship groups)
And that's all from me for now over this reveal. I just had to get this out of the system y'know? This reveal sucks. They are giving kaishin akai/akemi treatment, dammit.
#i hope people don't delete thir kaishin works tho... but that's just me hoping.#i have an exam in 3 days and this reveal is gonn eat me up for teo whole days#i just know it#i was gonna stay away from the dcmk fandom from today to until my exams are over y'know?#but I got spoiled about the cousin reveal in the TCF/LCF server of all places....TT#this really blew up... and considering the news... very understandable#🥲#i hate u Gosho#kaishin#dcmk#m 27#m 27 spoilers#movie 27#kudo shinichi#edogawa conan#kaitou kid#kuroba kaito#detective conan#magic kaito
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CRAZY, STUPID, LOVE — P.SH (TEASER!)
SYNOPSIS: Having a one night stand wasn’t your forte, but with the help of adrenaline, and most definitely not alcohol, you managed to rope yourself into one. Worst part of all was the fact that you didn’t even know his name! The only distinguishable part of him was his blinding white hair. You figured you will never see him again after, but you were so wrong. Your friend practically set you up for failure after convincing you to take her place on a blind date to try and drive the guy away, only for it to be the one you slept with, who also happened to be your mother’s best friend’s son that you met right before that.
PAIRINGS: ice hockey player!sunghoon x afab!reader
GENRE: strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, comedy, slice of life, angst
WARNING(S): profanities, slight violence, suggestive content (no smut), drinking, partying (subjected to change)
RELEASE DATE: (estimated) 8th September 2023 / (latest) 15th September 2023 / 11.30 pm GMT+8
AUTHOR NOTES: send in an ask/comment to be added to the ongoing taglist! will be closed before the release date (when i update it). after the last jayke fics being filled with angst, i've decided to go back to my roots and write something more light hearted.
TAGLIST (CLOSED!!!!!): @1800-beomgyu @yawnzshit @shinrjj @skzenhalove @taekwondoes @lalalalawon @ce1ight @enhacqke @winteringdream @strvlveera @rikisly @rikakhai @renchai @sievenderz @fariylixie0915 @enhastolemyheart @ckline35 @imhuh @yenqa @jayfrvr @tobiosbbyghorl @liikno @vizstars @kells5595 @addictedtohobi @rikisly @luvkpopp @delulu4-life @leep0ems @moonlighthoon @internet-folks @flwrshee @beansworldsstuff @bitehee @asyleums @luv4cheol @yur1a1 @dammit-jjk @kjrcrz @jhopesucker @enhaz1 @lilriswife4life
© jaylver all rights reserved.
THIS SHOULDN’T BE HAPPENING TO YOU NOW, BUT IT ACTUALLY WAS.
Never in a million years would you have expected yourself in some random guy’s bed, naked and a throbbing head reminding you of last night's mistake. Blacked out, you were too drunk to even remember making a callous decision in fucking a guy’s name you couldn’t even remember now. Wow.
How did you even manage to bring yourself into this situation? Well, a frat party might explain it. Letting Wonyoung and Yunjin drag you to their favourite frat party was already the first mistake, but when you discovered good booze and consumed too much of it, you ended up wandering off and found a hot man, not turning back, instead you ventured into his bed. Horniness along with a pinch of alcohol could really cloud someone’s mind and awareness, unfortunately you could prove that fact since you were a victim of it.
It was currently 4 am and the man you fucked last night was dead asleep with his back facing to you while on the other hand, you were wide awake, swallowing whatever information you got from last night. You remembered him as a charming, flirty, funny white headed man who had a big dic—heart—excuse you, that was equally respectful and polite.
He was just as handsome, gorgeous and breathtaking as his personality. Bright eyes, pale skin that complimented his hair, a pair of dimples that had you swooning, and legs long enough to outshine a professional model. Hell, how was he not a model in the first place?
Whatever happened yesterday night stays in the depths of his bed. Period. Though you couldn't deny his … skills, and you wouldn't mind another night with him, yet something in you was rejecting the idea of seeing him again and determined to have him remain as a one night stand.
Frankly speaking, you didn't want to leave this bed of his at all. Was he a morning stay in bed cuddling type of person? You wouldn't know and you're scared to know. What if he kicks you out? You needed to save yourself the embarrassing walk of shame in the morning, so instead, you slowly slipped out of bed, making sure he was still sound asleep before scurrying out.
The clothes scattered on the floor were unsurprising. You picked up your undergarments and the skimpy black dress you wore, pulling it on quickly as if your life depended on it. You weren’t cold hearted enough to leave without saying nothing, that was too low. Taking the nearest piece of paper you could find, you wrote down a few words of farewell and thanked him for the night, cringing all while you wrote it. Gosh, this was shabby but it would have to do.
Rounding your things up, your handbag and phone in hand as you buckled your heels strap, you quietly and sneakily exited from his dorm room, thankfully no signs of his roommates were around. Now, the problem was walking back to your part of the dorms in the cold of the night. Exciting, wasn’t it?
The moment you got back, the dorm was silent and dark. Wonyoung was asleep in her room, but Yunjin was lying on the couch with her hair in a mess and you knew she was going to have the worst hangover in the morning. You crept past her sleeping figure and went into your own room, letting out a sigh of relief before dropping into the comforts of your bed. Never again.
. . . to be continued !
#fic tag! crazy stupid love#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen fluff#enhypen fanfics#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen drabbles#enhypen scenarios#enhypen smau#enhypen soft hours#enhypen x reader#enhypen fic#enhypen sunghoon#enha#engene#sunghoon#enhypen headcanons#enhypen reactions#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon imagines#park sunghoon#sunghoon drabbles#sunghoon headcanons#sunghoon au#enhypen au#enhypen oneshots#enhypen angst#sunghoon fanfic#sunghoon x you#sunghoon oneshots
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Tim Drake Fics On A03
These are my list of Tim Drake fics on A03. It has everything. Angst, fluff, funny sibling relationship, family fluff, The core four etc... There are few TimKon fics thrown here and there too. Have fun.
Tim Drake (Doesn't) Drink Coffee by BabblingBookends
Every year, Tim goes on a caffeine detox for a month and has to deal with the resulting withdrawal symptoms. He doesn't tell the rest of the Bats about this, because, uh, reasons!
Bang, bang by Ididloveyou_once
‘You shot me!’ Jason gasped, stunned, ‘Holy shit, you actually shot me.’
Tim’s eyes widened and he froze. They stared at each other for a second, dumbstruck and then-
‘Don’t tell Bruce.’
Or: The family enjoy a normal movie night. Except Jason has a gunshot wound and Tim’s the only one who knows and oh- that’s because Tim’s the one who shot him and they really, really need to find a way to leave before anyone finds out.
Play it Again by Jazz020
The manor feels too quiet without music. Tim and Damian bond over music.
Send to All by kerosceene
I, ___________________________, hereby acknowledge that this form represents my wishes should I contract phytoaphrodisiac-induced delirium (hereafter referred to as “PAID”) during engagements with or while apprehending Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley (“Poison Ivy”).
-
The bats have a sex pollen release form. Because of course they do.
This is on of the most funniest batfam fic I have ever read.
four brothers, one crush, and absolutely zero brain cells to be found by Ms_Trickster
Tim: i need to know what’s the best way to a boy’s heart
Damian: Easy. The best way to someone’s heart is through their ribcage. Everyone knows that.
Damian: Come on Timothy, I expected better from you.
Dick: I-
Dick: Try again
-
Tim is having boy troubles.
Tim goes to his brothers for help.
Tim...did not think that plan of action through.
(In which the batbros give Tim advice on relationships, told entirely through texts.)
Their sibiling relationship is too damn funny.
Home by sElkieNight60
“Why didn't you call home?” the Red Hood is scolding him, bizarrely making his head spin with how unreal everything suddenly seems. “Why didn't you call Dad? You've been missing for three days and he is losing his mind―he thinks you've been kidnapped again―everyone has been pulling double runs all over the city trying to find you! You fucking disappeared! Seriously, Baby Bird, give us one good reason why we shouldn't drag your ass back home right now and have Dad bench you until the end of all days!?”
The two vigilantes are staring at him equal parts furious and equal parts relieved, but there must be some kind of mistake, because:
“Who is Tim?”
Only A03 users can read this fic.
Cork Board Contingencies by PrinceJakeFireCake
If you don’t use a cork board to obsessively plan contingencies for every possible way a date with your best friend can go, how can you go on a date at all?
Excerpt:
“Are you free next Saturday?” Tim asked, pretty sure that Kon’s jumble of words was agreement that he wanted to date Tim.
“Maybe!” Kon exclaimed.
“Cool,” Tim commented, taking another sip of his drugged grape soda (“Dammit, Tim,” he mentally told himself. “Do not give in! Buy new grape soda! Stop drinking the drugged grape soda! I’ve shotgunned another can of drugged grape soda, haven’t I? Dammit, that makes five!”) then saying, “That gives me just enough time to pass out for fifty-two hours and plan our first date.”
Bloodlines by chibi_nightowl for exiled-one (mistralle)
“Mr. Drake, I can’t think of a better way to say this, so I’ll just be blunt. This file is for your first adoption. By the Drakes.”
Tim blinked. “My what?”
“You were adopted as a newborn by Jack and Janet Drake.”
“Excuse me, but what the fuck are you talking about?”
No words. This fic is just mind blowing.
fill in the blanks by mindshelter
“You?” Tim blurts. Holy shit. “You’re Kon?”
A nod. “Are you in any pain?” he asks again.
Kon’s skin is sun-kissed, cheekbones dusted with a fine smattering of freckles; he is, without exaggeration, the prettiest person Tim has ever seen. “No, I’m—great,” he says, fidgeting. “Do you, uh, come here often?”
Kon raises a brow. “To the medbay?” he intones. “Definitely more often than I’d prefer.”
Road Rage Robin by heartslogos
"I'd be doing humanity a favor." Tim grinds out, "And I would get away with it. I could totally get away with it. I've done worse."
Only A03 users can read this fic
Liberal Usage of the Bro-Code by heartslogos for protagonistically (the_protagonist)
“You’re never going to guess who’s blood is on my shirt – similarly, this is not my shirt but these are my pants.”
Only A03 users can read this fic.
Here's a Reminder (That You Haven't Fallen Through the Cracks) by popsunner
If it’s a salesperson, he’ll shove them a hundred dollar tip and tell them to go away, if it’s some religious do gooder, he’ll direct them to Metropolis. If it’s a Rogue, he’ll tell them he’s busy and to please get in the fucking line. If it’s one of his siblings--
“Hey, Tim!” Dick says brightly, forearm braced against the doorframe.
Dammit.
i totally don't have amnesia by impravidus for odd_izzy
Based on this john mulaney bit: “I also think it's weird in movies when someone has amnesia and they wake up in the hospital. A lot of times they'll be surrounded by friends and family, but when they open their eyes they go "Who are you?" Because that's not how you act when you don't recognize somebody. That's very rude. It would be chaos out there if every time you saw someone you didn't recognize, you went, "Who are you?" I always try to be really polite in life, so like if I had amnesia, you'd never know it. I'd wake up and they'd be like "Hi John, we're so happy you're awake." And I'd just be like, "Oh, hey, man, how's it going?", "Oh, hey, dude, nice to see you again." because that's how you act when you can tell that someone recognizes you and you have no fucking clue who they are.”
Detective Timothy Drake and the Mysterious Case of the Unclaimed Dildo by JpegDotJpeg
Tim had a lot of experience with problem solving. Every goddamn day he was solving problems. There was no shortage of problems in Tim’s life. He’d learned how to deal with overbearing parents, underbearing parents, malfunctioning equipment, in-team conflict, lawsuits, emotional breakdowns, financial difficulty, broken ribs, ill-timed boners, and a whole host of other bizarre, anxiety-inducing, or life-threatening issues that plagued his existence.
None of them had prepared him for finding a dildo in the dishwasher.
I had so much fun reading this.
Little Overlooked Dreams by Lunette3002 for Marzue
Tim weighed his options. He was alone at night in some alleyway in Gotham. He had nothing except the clothes left on the ground by someone and the cloak wrapped around his skinny shoulders. His camera was nowhere in sight. His backpack was gone too.
He brought the device to his ear. “Hello?”
Whatever talking had been on the other end of the line immediately cut off at his hesitant greeting.
“Who is this?”
Family Photos by KelpieCodyne
“I thought you quit your photo stalking?”
“In my defence, I never said I was quitting, and you never asked if I would,” Tim immediately counters. “So really, this is kind of on you.”
Just because Tim became a bat, doesn’t mean he stopped taking photos of bats. Several times Tim took photos of the batfamily, and one time they took photos of him.
One of my all time favorite fic. And only A03 users can read this fic too.
picture perfect memories by Fandom_Trash224
“I… require assistance with something. I believe you are best-suited for it.”
Tim raises an eyebrow, but motions for the younger boy to enter his room. As Damian does, he slowly closes the door behind him, and Tim notices a small piece of what Tim assumes to be paper in Damian’s hand. Then, he realizes it’s not just a piece of paper: it’s a photo.
Damian approaches Tim, holding out the photo at arm’s length once he’s close enough to do so, saying, “I would like you to explain this photo to me.”
Tim glances down at it, and to both his surprise and mild horror, he recognizes the photo.
Only A03 users can read this fic.
Biphasic Reaction by renecdote
People may have allergic reactions all the time and be fine, but they can also die from them. He has a flash of sudden, morbid curiosity about what the exact statistics for fatal allergic reactions are.
Only A03 users can read this fic.
miles and miles (in their shoes) by JUBE514
Where is Damian? Why can’t he see anything clearly? Where is the little brat? Damian had been by him in the cave when everything had exploded, they had been arguing like always when the two of them had gotten the punishment to go clean the trophy room, stop yelling at each other, stop being at each other's throat for two minutes and go clean the goddamn trophy room-
They had been cleaning, got into another knock out drag out argument, and it had come so close to blows and they had been screaming more than cleaning and-
The stupid fucking shoe, in the magical section- exploded out-
--
Tim and Damian switch bodies, the two of them realize exactly why the other does the things they do.
The Waynes, Damsels in Distress by hitthedeck
Roses are red, violets are blue, Bruce Wayne and his kids get kidnapped every other week. Some things are just universal, undeniable facts of life.
Or, in which Bruce Wayne is still Batman and his kids are still Robins, but they keep letting themselves get kidnapped because they think it's funny.
Have You Seen My Kids!? by Cute_Bear
Five Times Bruce's kids interrupted him as Bruce Wayne and One Time they interrupted him as Batman with the Justice League.
This is not Tim - centric, but it has really nice batfam fluff.
ten cents richer by Ms_Trickster
You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain.
That’s how the saying goes. Take enough punches from the universe and eventually it becomes harder and harder to pop back up, to see the worth in fighting back, to stop yourself from turning around and delivering some punches of your own.
Tim never wanted to become the villain—
“Appendicitis,” Tim breathed in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
—but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted to burn the world to ashes when shit like this kept happening to him.
A Saturday Evening by malcyon
Jonathan shrugs, catches the expression still on Tim’s face. “We did throw out the cyanide.”
“Only because it expired.”
“Marty.”
“Well, it did.”
*****
Kon invites Tim over for dinner. Tim's not sure if he should have accepted that invitation.
unfurl by shipyrds
"Hey, Dick," Tim says. He's in costume, and fiddling with his gloves, but he doesn't remove his mask: nervous, and trying to hide it. "You've had sex with aliens, right?"
"I'm not going to like where this is going, am I?" Dick says, resigned.
"How did you deal with the whole. Junk situation," Tim says, in his best professional Mission Report voice. Its success is kind of undermined with how red his face is below the domino.
—
Tim asks some questions. Bruce and Clark come to some realizations.
The Conner Kent Conspiracy Board by Hayleythewriter
Tim figures out Kon’s feelings before Kon does.
His Baby by Musafir
Bruce once made Tim a promise that he would never break, just have to reaffirm later in life.
“Hi Tim. I’m Bruce and I am always going to be here for you.”
Banshee In A Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee)
Tim is five years old when he drowns in his parents' pool. He dies quietly, waiting for parents who love him, but will never be there, to realise that something is wrong. They never show up, and he sinks into oblivion.
When he wakes up and claws his way out of the water, the sun has set, and the lights of his house are on. He is cold and wet and his lungs burn.
But most of all, Tim is alone.
(If you die and no-one is there to see it, were you ever alive in the first place?)
The Return by lurkinglurkerwholurks
What the comics neglected to cover after Bruce returns from being lost in time.
Only a03 users can read this fic.
charity by Valkirin for Ms_Trickster
The biggest downside of being adopted by Bruce Wayne is putting up with rich people events, including one where Jason will be in a room with a bunch of rich kids for a couple very long hours while Bruce goes to the adults' meeting. Jason is ready for a very bad time but the Drake kid listens to him from the start and keeps backing up Jason's ideas even though they've never met.
Jason warms up to Tim Drake long before Mad Hatter tries to take over the meeting and Tim backs him up again.
city of stars by lovelyre
College friends-to-lovers AU with Tim Drake.
This is Tim drake x Reader fic. Trust me its really good.
Tricks of the Trade by Jazz020
Jason and Damian learn about Tim's fool proof method of getting what he wants from Superman
Security Updates by Jazz020
Hal, Clark, and Barry find an unexpected guest playing with the watchtowers security.
Vacation at the Watchtower by Jazz020
A continuation of Security Updates
It may have been a mistake to let Tim stay at the Watchtower while he heals from his injury but the kid really needed to get away from his brothers.
“Wait, what if I go to the Watchtower with you.”
“I don't think-”
“It’ll be great. I'll even help out if you need me to. I'll be the best unpaid intern the Justice League has ever had.”
Birthdays by Jazz020
Bruce was always aware that Jack and Janet Drake were bad parents, but every once in a while they give him an unfortunate reminder.
Loss by Jazz020
Out of all of Tim’s self-destructive tendencies, it was his willingness to die for his loved ones that frightened Alfred most.
Sick by Jazz020
Tim’s never quite figured out the proper behavior for someone who’s sick. Instead of resting, he often makes his way to the Watchtower.
We Can Work It Out by blackash26, Tigrislupa
Damian endeavors to make up for his treatment of Drake and apologize properly; however, Drake refuses to forgive him no matter what he does. Tim does his best to deny, avoid, and ultimately deal with the fact that the demon brat has a crush on him of all people. (Pulling pigtails never felt like quite such an understatement.) Meanwhile, the rest of the family takes sides.
In all of this, there's only one thing everyone agrees on.
Don’t tell Dick.
Only A03 users can read this fic.
you'll never find a thing like today by remrose
"I'm just saying, I don't think I've ever been to one of these things that hasn't ended in explosions," Bart tells them, eyes on the crowds as he tugs at the ends of his cuffs.
To the Boy Who Called Yesterday by Shirokokuro
Bruce wonders when six-year-old Tim changed, when he shed that sad look he’s wearing now.
Or, perhaps, when he got so good at hiding it.
Cough syrup by Stardustwrites17
It’s the coldest night in the year. So of course Tim falls into the Gotham-fucking-harbor.
Featuring a worried dad, Tim's missing spleen, and of course, Tim battling with himself between being independent and letting himself be loved.
Chili dogs seasoned with tears by Robin_The_Robiner
Ever so slowly, Tim looked down at his plate. On it was a steaming chili dog, topped with fried onions and fresh parsley.
“Oh.” he whispered.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Taking the place of a beloved dead boy was difficult, but Tim managed to do a decent job. He's smart, confident, and put together, so he wasn't effected by their devastating grief at all.
Tim is also a dirty little liar when it comes to his mental health.
A Pile Of Pillows By The Couch by reinersbigtits
Tim has always hated getting sick. He hates the haze and the pain. But, when he finds out his family is sick he jumps in to help without a second thought. However, without a spleen, he's incredibly susceptible to the illness and quickly realizes just how much he's missed out on.
Or: Tim Drakes repressed trauma followed by worried family feels and lots of comfort.
stepping on landmines by Ms_Trickster
There is a scar curved around Drake's neck that Damian does not understand.
So he asks Todd.
the butler's neighbor by deargalileo
It starts with a baseball, thrown onto the wayne's property. it's alfred's job to deal with such happenings, of course. but over tea and galas, it turns into so much more.
after all, why should bruce be the only one allowed to adopt any child that he finds?
Stranger than Fiction by foxy_mulder
"There are details in this document that absolutely no one should know unless they have inside information on us. There’s hints that they know our patrol schedules and regularly keep tabs on us. I don't know who's behind this, or what they want with Batman, but tracking the writer needs to be a priority."
"And this document is… a fanfiction?"
_________
(Tim Drake writes Batman fanfiction. He doesn't expect Batman to actually find it.)
There are many many more fics which i will post later. Have fun reading
#tim drake#batfam#red robin#dc robin#jason todd#good parent bruce wayne#dick grayson is nightwing#damian wayne is a little shit#tim drake is a menace#jason todd is red hood#jason todd is a little shit#fluff#light angst#bart allen#young justice#conner kent#tim drake loves coffee#tim drake centric fic#timkon
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lost luggage
prompt: roadtrip/vacation (@steddieholidaydrabbles)
word count: 596
rated: t
tags: married life, bickering, fluff
notes: this stands alone but is part of the future fic series! corroded coffin exists, and steve and eddie have kids
welcome to Day 13 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!
They fly into Indianapolis and rent a car and drive down the winding highway back to Hawkins, and the whole way there, Eddie pointedly ignores him.
After nearly a full hour of this, Steve huffs and says,
“I don’t know why you’re blaming me. I’m not the one who lost your suitcase.”
Eddie gives him a look out of the corner of his eye. “Okay? I’m not blaming you.” He sounds annoyed, as if any of this is Steve’s fault. “It’s fine, I’ll just borrow something of yours. Or Wayne’s. Whatever.”
Steve just rolls his eyes. He reaches forward and clicks the radio on, flipping it over to the Top 40 station just to be annoying, but they’re playing a fucking Corroded Coffin song, one about Steve and his eyes and the way his smile is a light in the fucking dark .
He turns it off and flops back in his seat.
“It’s not fine,” he says after a moment. He glances in the rearview mirror to make sure both the girls are actually asleep in the backseat. “Also, for the record – you’re being a total dick about it.”
There’s rain coming down against the windshield, and the wipers are going a mile a minute, and Steve has his arms folded over his chest as he stares at the gray-brown gloom of the post-harvest cornfields passing by outside.
Eddie gives him a look, and when Steve glances over at him, it’s Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes.
“Nice.”
Steve offers him the fakest smile he can muster. “I’m being the nicest I can be right now.”
“This is the nicest you can be?” Eddie says under his breath. “No wonder you were best friends with Carol Perkins until you were seventeen.”
Steve feels a reluctant smile tug at the corner of his mouth, and he’s fucking annoyed about that too, because he doesn’t want to smile right now, dammit. He wants to be pissed off and annoyed because Eddie’s being an asshole, but instead he’s –
“Fuck off,” he says. He laughs and punches Eddie hard in the shoulder, and this makes Eddie laugh, too. “I’m serious.”
“Very extremely serious,” Eddie says, frowning in mock concern. “The most serious.”
“If you’re not careful, I’m going to take the kids to my sister’s or whatever it is they do in the movies.”
“Empty threat,” Eddie says. “You don’t have a sister.”
“My mom’s, then.”
Eddie makes a dismissive sound, and Steve watches his hands relax on the steering wheel.
“Emptier threat,” he says, smiling a little as he glances over at Steve. “You hate your mom.”
Steve laughs again in spite of himself. “God, you’re such an asshole.”
He flips the radio back on, and the station has moved on to a Britney Spears song, which might actually be punishment enough for Eddie’s bad mood, having one of his songs played back to back with Oops I Did It Again for the entire Indianapolis metropolitan area to hear.
Steve gives him an innocent little smile, and Eddie makes a face at him. His hand lands on top of Steve’s leg, trailing up high with his fingers digging into his inseam. After a moment of quiet, he squeezes his thigh and says,
“Sorry for being a dick.”
Steve lets his hand land on top of Eddie’s, threading their fingers together in his lap.
“Sorry you’re going to have to be naked for all of Christmas,” he says, turning away from where he’d been staring out the window at the rain. “Because I’m not sharing my clothes.”
[also on ao3]
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I’m loving all your fics so much, could I ask for a platonic Yandere strawhat crew with trainee CP9 reader, who knows how bad they are but can’t leave? (Maybe slight Yandere CP9 as well)
Mission~
Warning:Cursing/Possessive behavior/Vulgar Language!~
“Dammit, Dammit, Dammit!”
You cursed, clutching the ringing transponder snail in your hands, holding it down to your best ability to not let any of the sound get out.
How in hell did you even find yourself in this situation?!
This was your first solo mission and somehow, some way, you ended up onboard the Strawhats ship. Literally the enemy of the government? And your whole group! You already knew for a fact that Rob Lucci would be on your ass for one, not picking up immediately and two, being so reckless that you ended up being a ‘guest’ on the agency your training for worst enemy!
Dread soon washed over you as you heard a knock on the door..
You were in the storage room, luckily making them buy an excuse that you lost something in there..
This was the first time in weeks those god forsaken pirates have let you out of their sight so you were trying to savor you time as much as you could.
A more persistent knock on the wooden door of the storage room on the ship caught you to zone back into this situation. Biting your lip, goosebumps slowly arose on your arms from that deep, masculine voice with a undertone of something you couldn’t comprehend that spoke from outside the room.
“Hey Y/N?..you’ve been in their for a while. What are You getting anyway? Do you need my help to come find it..?” The door knob slightly jiggled, causing you stiffen and stuff the still dinging transponder snail under whatever you could find.
“..Why the hell is the door locked Y/N? Open it!.. and what’s that ringing noise in there..?..!”
Zoro Said, his voice now laced with utter annoyance. You took a deep breath, glancing around the room for a second to figure out how you could calm this green haired swordsman down.
Putting on the sweetest voice you could manage, you now locked your eyes on the wooden door before you.
“Oh no zoro im fine I swear! It’s just the thing I lost is uh..personal, yeah!”
You said, nodding right yourself in hopes he would take your lousy excuse for an excuse and go back to the crew. There was a pause, a pause that made you swear you could just feel his eyes boring into that wooden door, right where you were currently.
“Okay..just hurry up alright? Sanji Said dinner is almost ready..”
His voice sounded more calmer but a little like a grumble. You sighed in relief and nodded, even though you knew he couldn’t see you.
“Right..I’ll be there in a few.”
And with that, his footsteps slowly echoed away through the deck. Letting out a soft sigh in relief, you paused for a moment yourself. Taking notice of your surroundings. The chest nut wooden doors and walls..the random items and tools in piles of boxes..
How did you get into this again?..
Oh right..you wanted to be part of CP9 so you took any mission you could get and somehow ended up here..
Ring-Ring
Ring-Ring
Ring-Ring
Ring-Ring
Ring-Ring
Oh fuck..
With trembling hands, you slowly picked up the line on the transponder snail to be met with a chilling cold, calm and almost venomous voice. Shivers ran down your spine as you could already tell you had awoken the strangely possessive and scary side of the CP9 crew you knew.
“Y/N...where the hell are you? I’ve been calling you for only god knows how long.”
You could already tell he was dissatisfied and maybe even scowling..
“Is that Y/N?? She’s okay?”
Kalifa’s worried voice made Rob Lucci sigh loudly.
“Yes. They’re on the call right now but they haven’t spoken yet..”
“Y/N! Where have you been?! We’ve been so worried! You’re not even an official member and you just-”
“Kalifa, calm down. I’m sure they have a good explanation to all of this nonsense..right?”
A gruff voice then came from the snail and couldn’t help but groan. That was Jabra and knowing him, he was probably pissed as well but didn’t want to say it.
“Uh well, I’ve been um..”
How were you going to tell them you’ve been hanging out with their worst enemies?! The ones that got in the way of their job and took them and the world government on?!
“It’s just I may have gotten stranded. On a island but now I’m staying with some nice..people who offered to take me home! Where are you guys currently so I can tell them exactly..?”
You said, trying to change the topic. You wished you had the balls to tell the crew the location to drop you off..
“Didn’t we already tell you? You really have a bad memory Y/N, you know that?”
Kaku’s voice echoed on the transponder snail and your heart did a flip. Were they all there just to lecture you?!
But to set stuff aside, they told you the location and gave a very vicious warning to hurry back soon and to not let it happen again. Most of the conversation you nodded and gave an occasional ‘mhm!’ to not risk any more anger.
After you hung up, or rather after they hung up on you, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.
Looking around for a thing that would be the object you quote on quote ‘lost’ you found a random notepad. Taking a deep breath, you opened the storage room door, letting the afternoon breeze hit you.
Feeling at peace for a moment you closed your eyes and shut the door, only to be met by feminine and soft like hands springing from the ground and trapping you in a tight, tight embrace.
.
.
.
.
.
Your body tingled as the sensation of hands sprouting from the ground, one could only mean one thing, it was Robin doing it and two, you had been caught in the clutches of one of the smartest straw hats on board and you had to tell her what you were doing in there and why.
Letting out a nervous chuckle, you turned to the black hair woman only a few feet from you.
“O-Oh hey Robin! You caught me off guard there heh..”
She chuckled softly, her voice smooth and almost calming. Just by the look in her eye, you could tell she was calculating in her mind. Studying and observing you..just like she always did.
“Well I’m sorry..I didn’t mean to scare you there..I just got a little carried away since you were in that storage room…looking for something was it?..did you find it?..”
Her voice now laced with suspicion, she locked her deep blue eyes into yours, an almost challenging stare.
“Oh yeah..! It was an notepad..I just love keep track of things you know..?”
She let out a relaxed hum as an understanding and you held back the urge to sigh heavily in relief. She would probably take a hint on just that..
Since Robin was so clever and observant..she had no problem with finding out your true intentions..and telling the others your true intentions..
You knew that by dealing with the consequences.
Dinner and the rest of the day went on as usual ever since you got here, everyone in the crew keeping a sharp eye on you and everything you did. Luffy butting in on almost every conversation to tell or show you something stupid. Sanji insisting you have more food and giving you seconds even though you didn’t want any and not letting you take even a step out of the mess hall until you cleared your plate. Franky and Usopp taking every chance they got to try and make you laugh or show you their newest inventions. And of course, Zoro repeatedly pouring you more sake when your cup was only half full.
Of course from all that time spending and sake, you felt tired and most importantly, buzzed from all that sake Zoro had been giving to you. Feeling like you needed to let things out for once you took out that notepad from the storage room you found.
Soon, you began to scribble away everything. How you felt about the strawhats, that you were a trainee in CP9 and how you wish everyone would calm down. Soon, you had multiple pages filled with your feelings and you had to admit, it felt good to let everything out!
Setting the notepad down on your bed the cabin you yawned with a stretch. Why on earth do you feel so sleepy all of a sudden?..you definitely have been drinking too much sake with Zoro..
Laying down, you slowly pulled your cover up and stared at the ceiling..fluttering your eyes closed to sleep at last..
When you woke up, the sound of chains jangling filled your ears. Wait a minute..
Chains..?
Looking around it seemed like you were in captains quarters..aka luffy’s cabin, but why..?
Dread and fear now consumed your mind and body as you tried to at least sit up but failed. These chains were tight around your wrists and legs, causing almost no hope for escape.
What the hell did you even do this time?!
Rattling your brain for answers you finally came to a conclusion…
The notepad…
Someone must’ve read it and told everyone..you started to look around the dark lit room with only the moon shining through the window. Cold sweat dripped from your forehead as you then felt the presence of at least two people..
A gentle hand pushed you down on the bed you were laying in as a familiar voice filled the room.
“So, you were working for CP9 huh?”
You gulped..
“Don’t worry! We’re not mad hah!..why would we? You’re never going back there anyways!”
Before you could even respond to that you felt a straw hat being placed on your face..
A voice then smooth as chocolate and almost calming then whispered to you, very, very close to your ear like it was trapping you.
“We’ve always had our suspicions all along about your little Mission anyway, but now you’ve made it so easy..but dont worry your little head off..we’ll take good care of you as long as your nice from now on..”
A/N:
Hiiii my lovely petals!!honestly I’m just going to stop announcing when I’m posting because I always have things to do them or I fall asleep 😭😭 so I’m probably not going to to announce it anymore lol! But I hope y’all enjoyed this because I did! I tried to make this long enough and keep it interesting 😗😉 so sorry that this too so long to the person who requested this ❤️😭 if you ever want me to do another by you just say you requested this and I’ll probably drop everything and do yours first to pay back time 😭 but man I did miss writing! I’m so sorry I’m posting so late btw but I was determined and there was NO WAY I was about to miss another day and keep y’all waiting..but anyways, a new story or two next week and I hope y’all had an amazing thanksgiving and week/day!! I’ll see you soon my pretty petals and I hope you loved this and I wish you well! Also sorry if there is spelling mistakes I’ll fix them if I notice them!!❤️🌸💖❤️🌸
#one piece#one piece strawhats#writing#fypdongggggggg#straw hat crew#brook one piece#yandere x reader#fypシ゚viral#cat burglar nami#one piece luffy#one piece cp9#cp9#fypfypfypfypfypfypdypfypfypfypfypfypfyfpfyfpfyp#fypツ#platonic yandere#yandere strawhats#yandere one piece#fypppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppp#anime and manga#one peice#oneshot#fyp2023#i wrote this#fypシ#fyppage#yandere sanji#yandere zoro#fyp#writers on tumblr#tumblr fyp
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