#who's blood is it? is it his? is it someone else's? who knows!
Note
Pleaseeeee can I have a softer Cooper who worries a lot about his girlfriend having to deal with people looking at them weird all the time, but who would be happy to yell "THIS IS MY MAN!" to anyone who would listen?
Willingly
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 1.5k
i am already on the soft cooper train oh no lmaooooo just a little bit of soft boyfriend cooper, or as soft as i imagine he can get, being defended by his partner 🤎
request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist
minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: guns, blood, violence, good old fashioned trope fic!
Cooper struggled against your gentle grip, his gloved hand pulling away from yours, fingers no longer entwined with yours. You looked to him, noticing he was avoiding your inquisitive gaze, and then noticed the crudely painted sign on the wall ahead of you. The gates to the nearest settlement were just ahead of you. Your last stop before you headed on to the next job.
“What? Are you embarrassed to walk in here holding my hand, Coop?”
His easy, charming smile seemed a little off as he spoke to you, still looking straight ahead.
“You kiddin’? Darlin’, this is for your benefit. Not many settlements are alright with folks like me at the best of times, but with you on my arm? We’d both be in danger, and I can’t keep spendin’ all my time savin’ you.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes.
“I can hold my own. You know that.”
There was no response, but you knew better than to keep fighting your corner in this particular arena. So instead, you sighed, placing your hands which now felt so incredibly cold and empty, back into your pockets to keep them from mindedly grabbing Cooper’s hands again. You couldn’t be too annoyed. For someone as stoic and cold as he could be, the fact he tolerated holding your hand at all was a pleasant enough gesture. But his willingness to offer up any form of physical affection dwindled completed when there was a risk of running into people. He became reserved, quiet, well-behaved almost. It was something you hadn’t expected from him, to be shy or to allow someone else’s opinions to hold him back. And admittedly, a lot of the time, you had worried that it was because he didn’t want to be seen with you. But you knew it was the other way around in his mind. He was afraid of how people would look at you.
As though he could hear your thoughts, knowing you well enough after all this time together, Cooper spoke finally as you sidled up to the gates.
“You wake up to this face smiling. You call me handsome. You say I’m charming. Good lookin’ I might be in your books, but there ain’t a lot of charm left in these old bones, sweetheart. I couldn’t talk my way out of an argument, and since you keep remindin’ me that I’m not allowed to cause problems everywhere we go…”
He tapped his thumb against the barrel of his holstered gun.
“… Then I just better not give anyone any more reason not to like me.”
“Well, I like you, Coop.”
“And I will forever question your judgement on that, kid.”
Smiling, you both passed through the open gate of the settlement and separated with a nod to get the supplies you needed. Quicker, and safer, to go separately. But still, you kept your head down, Cooper with his ragged mask up and his hat brim tipped to cover as much of his face as possible. Quiet, subtle, nondescript.
It didn’t stop them though, three of them. Pointing towards you, setting their beer bottles down on the stained and rusting bar top as they rushed to follow you.
“Hey! Hello there, pretty lady! You all alone?”
Turning, you spotted the colour of the uniform first, immediately recognising that you had made a mistake in even acknowledging them. That telltale burnt orange jumpsuit. The arrogance in their smug smiles. The Brother of Steel.
“No. I’m not alone.”
“Sure looks like you are… you know, maybe you could come on over and we’ll by you a cola?”
They laughed amongst themselves as you walked on. That one answer and a quick disappearing act was all you were willing to give them, turning quickly back and trying to lose them in the crowd as they slapped each other’s backs and spat to the ground.
And you thought you had been successful. You found a trader with everything you needed on your list before you returned to wait just beyond the gate for Cooper, no further interruptions to your day from the louts at the bar. But the entire interaction had out you on edge, so much so that when Cooper appeared behind you, leaning in without you noticing to whisper in your ear, you jumped out of your skin. Luckily, he was quick, and managed to grab your wrist before your fist struck the side of his face.
“Jumpy, aren’t you? Maybe you don’t think I’m so handsome after all.”
His wink made you blush, it always did, and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning like a fool.
“You surprised me is all, smartass.”
Cooper smiled, tightening the grip on your wrist and pulling you closer to him. You feigned some resistance, pretending to put up a fight against his grin, his charms, his strength. But you were following his pull, your lips almost touching his before the blow was landed.
Cooper’s body was knocked completely off balance, his body falling to the ground in a cloud of dust. Turning in the direction he was hit from, you found yourself staring down the three members of the Brotherhood from the market. Holding back some of the choice words you had for them, you managed to narrow it down to one question simple enough for even them to answer.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Shocked by your ungrateful attitude, one of the men, the largest of the three, stepped forward and pushing your shoulder with his finger.
“We’re saving you from assault, lady! This monster had its hands all over you, but don’t worry, we’ll take care of it. And you’re welcome.”
You scoffed, face going red with rage as you knelt to help Cooper up.
“You’re not saving me, asshole! You’re ruining the fucking vibe, you dweebs.”
Again, a far more polite term than you had wanted to use, but that didn’t seem to make the men any less aggressive towards either Cooper or now you. The largest of the men grabbed your arm, pulling you back up and away from the hand that Cooper had held out to you.
“Oh… you’re one of those freaks! No wonder you turned down some good old-fashioned heroes like us then.”
One of the others nudged you to the side, the other pushing Cooper back down to the ground with a kick, turning around as all of them converged on you until your back was against the wall. Nowhere to go. Trapped by them as they made their disgusting comments.
“Why would you waste your time on some abomination like that, huh? You into freaky stuff? Cos I could sure show you a thing or two. What’s he got? Like two cocks or something weird like that?”
You spat out your retort, well aware of the repercussions, but not caring.
“He could be feral and I’d still let him touch me before I even thought about letting any of you near me.”
Bracing for impact, you squeezed your eyelids shut, opening them again moments later when you realised you hadn’t been hit yet. Instead, all three of the Knights were on the ground, Cooper kneeling over them as he tightened the lasso and added the long length around their wrists for measure.
“Oughta keep ‘em long enough for us to make our escape, hm?”
You nodded, smiling, surprised still at how effective he was at handling anything the Wasteland threw at him.
“And I did it all without too much violence and noise, like you asked.”
“My hero.”
You swooned playfully, watching him as he made his way to stand beside you, both of you looking down without an ounce of pity at the men who writhed before you in the dirt.
“And look at you, shouting all those kind words about me for anyone to hear.”
“I keep telling you, Coop. I can hold my own, and I don’t care what people think.”
“You sure about that, darlin’? The likes of these fellas don’t put you off none?”
His eyes darted towards the Knights, now trussed up and struggling against each other on the ground, straining their necks to move their heads out of the line of Cooper’s gun.
“What? You think I’m put off by the Brotherhood? Yeah… and the rads put me off stuffing tin after tin of delicious cram down my throat.”
Cooper grabbed your hand in his, initiating the contact for the first time, and pulled you away back onto the cracked road. He knew he’d let go before you hit the next settlement, but he felt a little bit better about the risks associated. Especially since he had to admit, you could hold your own. And you were determined to do so when it came to him. It was nice to feel like he could let the affection be reciprocated.
#fallout#fallout amazon#x reader#finnie writes#cooper howard#the ghoul#fallout fic#cooper howard x reader#the ghoul x reader#cooper howard fanfiction#cooper howard one shot#cooper howard smut#cooper howard imagine#fallout tv#fallout tv series#walton goggins#cooper howard x fem!reader
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don't get cut on my edges || gojo satoru x reader
synopsis: Gojo is easily bored, you're the latest enigma that's caught his interest. He sets off in trying to figure you out. Lucky for him, you're coming on the week-end trip Shoko's planned for the week-end.
“Was I off script?”
You look up at him.
“You’re always off script.”
word count: 5.4k
genre: college!AU, fluff, slice of life
cw: unresolved sexual and romantic tension, reader has anxiety and is socially awkward, she/her is used for the reader, a little suggestive, overall very sweet and fluffy
a/n: this was fun to write! any feedback is appreciated, and i hope you enjoy my writing here :)
soundtrack
Gojo knows that people talk, knows that they talk shit, knows that there isn’t a soul on campus that doesn’t have an opinion on him. He can tell that eyes follow him around when he walks into a room, that his presence is enough to shift the atmosphere at a gathering, that some people roll their eyes at him while others try their best to catch his attention. It’s a lot to take in, for just one person.
Fortunately, he’s proved to be incredibly gifted in the art of not giving a fuck.
Then again, he’s incredibly gifted in most areas of life. Truth be told, he thinks people aren’t giving him enough credit for that. Sure, they tend to know that he’s a physics major, but that’s just tangential to what they know about the rest of him. He’s not just kinda good at physics, not some dude that goes to college mostly for the parties and then get a meaningless job at daddy’s company, no, he’s the fucking best, and he works fucking hard to be able to claim that title.
But that doesn’t really fit in with the rest of him, and at the end of the day, who cares? He certainly doesn’t.
With all that, it’s not statistically unlikely for him to catch people talking about him.
Well, he’d have to conduct a detailed study to calculate the exact odds, but with how much alcohol is in his blood at this very moment, it makes sense to him that it would happen.
Still, for people to be talking about him at a party he is at, in front of an open window, you’d think they would have some sense of shame. Not that he has any room to talk, because shame is not part of his vocabulary, but like. Come on.
“Gojo really can’t take not being in the spotlight for more than ten seconds, huh?”
That voice, he’s quick to identify, even if he can’t see her face from where’s he’s standing under the porch, belongs to Mei Mei. Aw. Bummer. They’d spent quite a lot of time around each other, have friends in common, slept— Wait, have they slept together? He can’t say for sure anymore. It seems to have slipped from his mind. Oops. Maybe that’s why he’s getting that treatment. Maybe he deserves it.
There’s a scoff, and really, the acoustic of this place are impressive. It feels like he’s straight in the room with those people.
“What else do you expect from someone who’s always had everything served to him on a silver platter?”
And that would be Noritoshi Kamo. Man. That was one of the few kids in the families his parents insisted on frequenting. They used to be sat next to each other at the kiddie table while the adults talked about the important stuff. They never had much in common — not then, not now. And, after all, maybe Noritoshi has a point, after all. His mother wasn’t a mistress, wasn’t turned into an outcast, and he’s never had to pretend he didn’t hear the loud whispers that tarnished her name. Yeah. Sounds like these two aren’t saying anything new after all. Not that he’s gonna change, y’know, but he already knows who he is, and he is all that.
“That seems like a very mean thing to say about a friend,” a quiet voice comments.
The world freezes.
A silhouette appears to go along with the voice, then a blurry face, then the picture becomes clearer. A figure sitting next to Shoko, giving him sweet, polite smiles when he approaches. Not chatty, kinda shy, pretty cute. Would get quiet when he was near, though, so he hadn’t paid a ton of attention. He’s used to giving it to people who asked for it, who wanted it.
You’d never asked.
But you’re… not wrong. He’s not sure why he hadn’t picked up on it himself. It is a mean thing to say.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Mei Mei protests, “I love Gojo, but you know I’m right about this.”
“Yeah, and I’ve known him my whole life,” Kamo adds. “It’s just a fact, we’re not talking shit.”
There’s a silence. Gojo’s invested now.
“I don’t know him that well,” you say. “Like I said. It’s just a mean thing to say about someone you hang out with every day.”
“Come on, don’t act like—”
“I think I’m going to go, actually,” you say. “This feels super shitty.”
“What the fuck was that?” Mei Mei laughs, just a second later — presumably after you’ve left the room.
“She wants to fuck him, I guess,” Kamo says.
Well, you’re making one hell of a headway then, because he’d do you so hard after that.
When he walks back in, you’re chatting with Shoko. You give him your usual, close-lipped smile, don’t quite make eye-contact. If you’re trying to get in his pants, you have a very original way of getting it done.
“Who was your friend again?” he asks Shoko, later that night. She answers without looking up from her phone.
“She doesn’t talk much when there are new people around,” she warns him. “Leave her alone.”
“When have I ever bothered anyone—”
She reaches to smack the back of his head, misses and gets the nape of his neck — that’s the downside about being so tall, there’s just a lot of him to hit.
“Don’t make her uncomfortable. That’s all I’m asking.”
He wasn’t planning on that. He’s just— curious. Intrigued.
It’s unlikely to last, though. He’s been known to get bored easily.
You’re already in the car when he gets in. Well, okay, when he gets shoved inside by Todo, despite his protests that his legs are too long for the backseat. You’ve squeezed yourself in the middle seat, with Shoko on one side, and him on the other now. There’s a bag of snacks in your lap, yet you still try to shift yourself to give him a little more room. It doesn’t help at all, but in your defense, the only thing that could help would be to buy a new car.
“Is everyone ready?” Suguru asks as he adjusts the rearview mirror.
“Sure,” Shoko says.
“Let’s go!” Todo shouts.
“No,” Gojo whines.
“Yeah,” you say, completely drowned out under the rest.
“Good,” Suguru hums as he starts the engine.
Gojo pouts, but he doesn’t insist. Well, he doesn’t make any more of a scene than he already has. Truth be told, he could have taken Todo — dude might be all brute force, but Gojo has brains and brawns, thank you very much.
But he’s curious, still, and he hasn’t been given enough information to quite satiate his curiosity. Everything he’s gathered about you says that you mind your business and keep to your corner.
So why did you say that to Mei Mei and Kamo? It makes no sense, but Gojo’s never met an equation he couldn’t solve.
That’s an overstatement. Obviously there are equations he can’t solve. Yet. He’s sure he’d figure it out eventually. Like he’ll figure you out. See? That metaphor does make sense.
Suguru’s music is playing in the car. The sun is still low in the sky, the day is quickly getting warmer, and the phone says that they’ll be at the beach in two hours.
Satoru closes his eyes. Fun fact about him? He can fall asleep anywhere he wants to.
He wakes up with his face smooshed against the window, a hand tapping his shoulder carefully.
“We’re here,” you say, giving him a smile and then shuffling to leave the car from the other side.
Todo’s already running towards the beach, while Suguru and Shoko are getting the bags out of the trunk. Somehow, Shoko manages to sling a bag over his shoulder, but he takes off before she can stuff the cool box containing all the drinks in his arms.
He then lies to Todo to get him back to the car, so that he can carry the damn thing. Shoko better thank him later for that.
He catches up with you, and he sees your eyes widen a little when he approaches, as you visibly search for something to say. He can’t resist the temptation to shoot you a grin. There’s a light breeze in the air, but he won’t be fooled that easily — with his skin, he’s going to need an insane amount of sunscreen, if he wants to survive the day. Which makes him think, actually—
“Wanna help me apply sunscreen?” he asks.
“Huh?” you say.
He leans towards you, looks into your eyes from over his sunglasses. You appear to be fully frozen in place, only swallowing once as he gets closer. His grin gets wider as he takes in all of you, and he’s once more fascinated by the idea that you had been able to say something to Mei Mei and Kamo but you can barely face him.
His gaze drops to your parted lips.
Then the bottle of sunscreen smashes against his cheek with impressive precision.
“Todo can help you put that on!” Shoko offers as Suguru starts setting up a parasol. “Right, Todo?”
“Of course I will, my brother,” Todo say as he appears, but by then, Satoru has already started running for his life.
“Just kick him in the balls if he pulls something like that again,” Shoko says.
“Oh, no, it’s fine,” you reply, shaking your head in mild horror. “I just— I don’t— know— how to react sometimes. But he doesn’t bother me.”
That statement has her raising an eyebrow at you, filled with doubt, but she doesn’t insist.
“Play nice,” she does warn Satoru once more, later on. “Don’t push it too much.”
“Aw, Shoko, are you saying you wouldn’t approve of me?”
“Do whatever you want to,” she replies, rolling her eyes, “but give her more space. She’s not used to you being… you.”
Satoru rests his chin on his knee. He’s taking refuge under the parasol for now, and you’re already in the waves with Todo and Suguru. You seem comfortable with Todo, laughing at something he said, less so with Suguru. It all looks like a lot of work, all to satiate his curiosity. He’s all about committing to the bit but— he doesn’t know about that one.
This, too, all this thinking and questioning, is a lot of work, though, so he ends up shrugging it off.
“Are we getting in or what?”
“Absolutely not. No— Gojo— Don’t you fucking dare— Gojo!”
Shoko’s full-on shrieking by the time he throws her in the water. You burst out laughing. She comes out screaming for revenge, and Gojo starts scampering around to try and avoid her.
The sun is high in the sky, there’s a light breeze.
The time is good.
“Satoru!” Suguru calls when the watch on his wrist starts beeping, “it’s been two hours!”
It takes a second for the information to reach his brain, but the second he understands it, Gojo’s sprinting back towards the parasol at full speed. You look up, surprised, from the towel on which you’re lying with a book. Shoko doesn’t even bother with lifting an eyelid to see what’s going on.
“You okay?” you ask.
Ah, so she does speak.
“Yeah,” Gojo says, ruffling through a bag. “Just need to reapply some sunscreen. I’m not trying to look like a lobster.”
“Oh,” you say, “so, did you want me to help you with that?”
His fingers finally close around the bottle, and he stills to look at you. Shit. He’s curious again. Shoko’s words are swirling around in his mind, though, and he has no interest in forcing your hand.
“You didn’t look like you wanted to do that,” he says with uncharacteristic caution.
You roll your lips together, glance away from him, and your hand curls into a fist in the sand.
“No, it’s just— Um, I’m sorry about earlier. You— caught me off guard, I guess. I couldn’t figure out what to answer.”
“I usually just go with whatever appears through my head first,” he shrugs as he comes to crouch in front of you — you in the sun, him in the shade.
You laugh softly, but you avert your eyes, focusing on the sand as you trace patterns in it.
“Yeah, I think that’s the preferred method, but it— doesn’t— really work for me. So I have— I have a script, kind of, for interactions.”
“And I was off script?”
You glance back up at him.
“You’re always off script.”
For a moment, he just looks into your eyes, and you look back without any of that earlier nervousness. Then you shrink back into yourself, and the smile that so rarely leaves your lips reappears, like a shield that comes back up.
“Sorry. I know— I know how silly this sounds. I also wish I didn’t feel the need to do that, I just, um—”
“All good,” he replies with a shrug. “Sure. Help me with that.”
He throws you the bottle and you miss it, and he can feel you eyerolling at his back without needing to turn around, but when he shoots you a grin from over his shoulder, he can see how your breath catches in your throat.
Softly, your hand goes over his back, your touch gentle and cautious. It feels quite nice, actually, especially when your nails brush over his skin.
“It’s not too cold?” you ask.
“All good,” he repeats.
Shit. He’s invested again.
“Okay, we have the tickets, we have the water bottles, we have the hats, we have flat shoes, we have Gojo, we have the car keys—”
“I’m sorry, why was I just in the middle of a list of belongings?”
“We have cellphones and portable batteries… I think we’re good,” Shoko concludes, fully ignoring him.
“You don’t think we’re just a touch overprepared?” Suguru asks.
“You can never overprepare, my brother,” Todo says, grabbing his shoulder firmly. “If you want to triumph in the face of adversity, you need to know everything about the enemy.”
Suguru opens his mouth, closes it again. He knows how to pick his battles.
Gojo doesn’t.
“We’re going to a festival, not trying to breech the Pentagon,” he deadpans, and then, from the corner of his eye, he tries to see if you’re laughing. He delights in how you lower your head and try to keep it discreet.
“You never know what—”
“If I have to hear a second more of this nonsense, I swear to God I’ll kill someone here,” Shoko announces cheerfully. “Let’s move.”
Finally, after a good fifteen minutes by the door of the Airbnb you’ve all spent the night in, you start moving.
The good news is that you don’t have to get in the car, in the smothering heat, to get on the overcrowded streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. The bad news is that you have to walk there, in the smothering heat, near the streets packed full with the cars of the other attendees. Suguru’s in charge of the map, which everyone seems happy with. Gojo had offered to do it, too, and there’s not a shred of doubt that he’d be able to read it competently, but Shoko had insisted the risk of him taking everyone to the wrong place ‘just because it would be funny’ was too high.
She’d been right but like, that was still rude.
The march in the heat and the waiting in line, while painful and unpleasant, as Gojo makes sure everyone around him is well aware of, go pretty smooth. Everything is planned and accounted for. There’s a game plan once they make it into the festival, too, because of course there is, but that’s when things start going south. First, Todo tries to go rogue when he spots someone wearing Takada merch. She’s not performing here, but he’s heard rumors that there would be a stand for her, and he lurches towards the woman. He’d get lost in the crowd immediately if not for Gojo’s lightning fast reflexes.
Unfortunately, soon enough it’s Gojo’s turn to get distracted. What can he say, there’s the smell of sugar in the air, and he needs to know where it’s coming from. Suguru’s the one to get him back on track, as they all head towards the main stage. Because that’s what Shoko’s grand plan leads to: sweet, sweet, close-up spots to watch the Sorcerers, headliners for the festival and also unarguably greatest band of all times, with minimum wait before their show.
There are a couple other close calls, but the group manages to get close enough to the stage. There are people here already, but they’re here for other artists mostly, and they’ll no doubt move quite a bit before the start of the real show. From where they are, even you and Shoko will be able to— Wait a minute.
“Huh,” Gojo say. “Hey, Shoko, do you happen to see (y/n) around?”
“If you can’t see her from up there, why would you think I— Fuck.”
“A fallen soldier,” Todo sighs somberly. “Sometimes, you have to make sacrifices for—"
“We should go get her,” Shoko interrupts him. She’s biting her lower lip, staring at her phone. She looks quite worried, Gojo notices as he stares at her.
“Why isn’t it enough to just text her?” Gojo asks. It’s not ideal, and it won’t be easy to find the group in the middle of this sea of people, but it’s not impossible.
“I just— I don’t know if she’ll want to deal with all that” she gestures at the crowd “alone. I’m afraid she’ll say she doesn’t mind and then she won’t have a good time.”
Gojo tilts his head. It wouldn’t cross his mind to say something he doesn’t mean. It’s an incredibly weird thought, actually. But Shoko’s better than him at, well, people, and she might have a point. He also doesn’t want you to have a bad time, after all. With one last glance at the stage, he nods at her.
“I’ll go get her.”
“Are you sure?” Suguru asks. “I can go, if you want me to. It’s your band.”
As if it isn’t his, too. But Gojo shrugs. His attention span is fleeting, and he’s got his sights on something else right now.
“Nah, don’t worry. I’ll make it back.”
“Thanks,” Shoko says sincerely.
He waves vaguely at her before making his way back through the crowd, earning his fair share of nasty glances. He still doesn’t care.
A few minutes later, he receives a text from Shoko with a screengrab where you say you’re getting something to eat. Sure enough, he has no trouble finding you waiting in line. You’re typing on your phone, not paying attention to your surroundings, and he’s grinning already. He lets himself half fall on you, arm wrapping around your body as he drops his chin onto your shoulder. You jump, glancing back bewildered, but you don’t stay tense long once you see it’s him.
Which makes him feel things, actually, but he’ll unpack that later.
“What are you doing here?” you ask, brow furrowing. “I thought you guys would be in front of the stage by now.”
“I came to rescue the princess, obviously,” he says, and you laugh. You laugh a lot when he talks, instead of rolling your eyes like people usually do.
Maybe you’re a bit too good of an audience.
“I don’t need rescuing, Gojo,” you answer, and it’s interesting how calm your voice is. “It’s packed too tight for me in here. I told Shoko but…” You shrug. “It’s not always easy to understand how it is. For me.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t get it at all.”
Your shoulder’s pretty comfortable, though. And you haven’t tried to get him off of you yet.
“Do you want to order something, too?” you ask, pointing at the food stand. They sell waffles, and just the smell has his mouth watering. “Strawberries and whipped cream, right?”
Gojo pauses.
“How do you know that?”
“You’ve mentioned it. A few times, actually.”
He’s sure he has, but—
“You were listening to that?”
You blink at him. He realizes how close your face is, with his head on your shoulder.
“Of course I was. You were talking.”
“Shoko didn’t tell you? It’s like, rule number one of being around me, don’t listen to the stuff I say. There’s a lot of dumb shit in there.”
You tilt your head, looking kind of confused.
“I still want to hear what you’re saying.”
Something inside him feels warm all of a sudden. Very warm.
“Yeah,” he says, but his throat is tight. “Strawberries and whipped cream.”
When you step forward to they can take your order, he begrudgingly gets off your shoulder, which allows him to swipe his card before you can get to it.
“I had that,” you protest while he bites into the insane amount of whipped cream in his waffle — he asked for more until the guy behind the counter looked like he was going to murder him.
“I had it first,” he says, and then he sticks his tongue out at you. He anticipates your laugh this time, finds himself waiting on it. When it comes, it sounds just like he wanted it to.
For a while, the two of you sit on a fence. You hand him a water bottle, say that he needs to stay hydrated. With no one else around, you don’t seem to have such a hard time speaking. You’re so quiet when everyone’s there and, well, him and Todo take up a lot of space, when it comes to conversation. Neither Suguru nor Shoko struggle with making their voices heard either, and in the middle of all that, you tend to stay silent. Apparently, that doesn’t stop you from listening.
“Shouldn’t you be going back?” you ask, after a while.
Gojo tilts his head as he thinks about it.
“Nah, I’m good. Let’s find some place where you can enjoy the show.”
“You don’t have to—”
A grin, and then he’s jumping from the fence to come stand in front of you. Even like that, he doesn’t have to look up to meet your eyes.
“And how d’you plan on stopping me?”
Your eyes go wide. He can almost hear your heart racing, and he thinks he’s starting to get a little too high on that feeling. It’s just so easy, so fun, so delicious.
“Okay,” you squeak, averting your eyes and jumping down after him, clearly trying to hide your reaction. “Okay, I’m coming.”
When you start walking by his side, grabbing your hand is just too easy not to do it.
“Wouldn’t want you to run away again,” is what he says as he intertwines his fingers with yours. “Now you’re stuck with me.”
You still refuse to look at him, but there is no actual discomfort in your reaction, just what he thinks is uncertainty about how you’re supposed to behave now.
“Have I gone off script again?” he practically purrs.
You glance up, a flash of amusement on your face. Lots of fondness, too, and this time he’s the one who gets caught up in it.
“You haven’t been on script once today.”
“Good,” he says, managing to pass off the emotion that just choked him for a second there as impatience. “Someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”
“I’m always on my toes,” you mumble behind him, but you can’t explain to him what anxiety feels like, so you just let him drag you away. His fingers are long, his hand engulfs yours easily. You like the feeling of it more than you should.
Your eyes are on Gojo’s broad back as he pulls you through the crowd, which parts effortlessly for him. You’re enjoying this.
You don’t think it’s going to last.
Gojo doesn’t think about that though, just like he rarely thinks about tomorrows. What he’s thinking about, as he keeps far, far away from the stage, is how to find a place with enough air around for the two of you. It’s easy for him to get a good look at the stage, and he earns his fair share of pissed off glares — “Seriously, it should be illegal to come to an open-air stage when you’re that tall” — but it takes more work to get the perfect space for you. Finally, his eagle eyes figure out some place that’s just perfect, and he beelines for it with you in tow.
“There,” he says, pulling you in front of him and putting his head on top of yours, just to check that the line of sight is good enough.
Ha. He nailed it.
“Thanks,” you say. There’s surprise in your tone.
“Is this a good spot for you?” he checks, but really, he just wants to hear you praise him?
“It is, but— I thought you said you didn’t get it? My—” You gesture vaguely. “—struggle. With all that stuff.”
Oh right. You actually listen to what he says. He needs to keep that in mind for the future.
“Does it matter?” he asks with a shrug.
You stare. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out, and then the crowd starts absolutely howling and you spin around to see the Sorcerersget on the stage. Whatever moment there was there, is forgotten right away. He sees you fish in your bag for your phone, then raise it over your head and tiptoe around, trying to get a good photo.
It’s cute, it’s adorable even, but it’s not very efficient.
“Do you want some help here?” he asks, leaning close to your ear so you can hear him over all the noise.
Your body shivers into him, and he files that away for later.
“Um, yeah,” you shout over the noise. “Here, could you—”
But he pays no attention to the way you offer him your cellphone, and instead he’s bending down, and ignoring your surprised protest as he pushes his head between your legs.
He bench presses a hell of a lot more than he looks like he does, for the record.
With a grunt, he manages to get you up on his shoulders, and some people behind him complain loudly, but whatever, they can wait for you to get the perfect picture. You struggle to stabilize yourself for a dangerous second, and then you stop moving around for a second. Your thighs are supple and warm under his hands and around his head.
One more thing to remember.
“I’m good, I’m good, get me down,” you say quickly, just as he’s storing the thought away.
You seem relieved when your feet get back on the ground, and Satoru lets his hands linger on your waist.
“Was it a nice pic?” he asks. He knows he’s all red in the face, but he’s grinning so wide it almost hurts, actually.
“Perfect,” you squeak. “Thank you. Again.”
Aw. He’s going to get used to that word real quick.
A familiar guitar riff comes from the stage, and you turn away from him once more, but his hands are still on your waist. He uses that to pull you against him and this time, you don’t hesitate to let yourself lean back against him as the two of you move in rhythm with the music.
The concert is a blur after that. There’s a lot of singing, a lot of screaming, basically no time to catch a breath, because the Sorcerers are fucking beasts that don’t let up, not even for a second. At some point, you tell him something, but he can’t really hear, so you crane your neck back and he lowers his head. Your lips brush against his neck, an accident really, but it sends such a jolt of electricity through him, he thinks he’ll go into full overdrive.
The only thing that stops him from chasing after your lips immediately after that is Shoko’s voice, going around in his mind. ‘Don’t push it.’ What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
You move away, and he still has no clue what you were saying. If after that, his hands hold your hips a little tighter, if he pulls you a little closer, he can’t be blamed. If, during one of the more sulfurous song of the show, as you’re swaying against him, humming along to the song, his lips find your neck, he doesn’t want to hear about it.
When he presses a kiss right by your jaw, you turn to look at him. You’re pretty. He’s always thought you were pretty.
Fuck Shoko, he thinks, and he’s ready to put his mouth on yours, to slide his tongue between your parted lips that have looked so inviting this entire week-end, when the riff of the band’s most popular song starts playing, and he loses you attention once more.
Cock-blocked by his favorite band. Fuck his life.
When the song ends, there’s movement in the crowd as the band gets off the stage and people start chanting for an encore. In Shoko’s fool proof, perfect plan, this is when you’re supposed to start leaving. Gojo doesn’t want to — how is he supposed to do anything about how much he wants his mouth on you once you’re back with the other — but this time you grab his hand and pull him away from the stage and he has even less of a clue of what he’s supposed to do about that.
You get to the meeting point before Shoko, Todo and Suguru, which makes sense, considering you were much further from the stage than them. It’s a specific pole that Shoko had pointed to as you were first getting in, and the urge to push you against it and to taste your lips is strong. Gojo isn’t typically one to ignore that kind of feeling. He just goes for it, doesn’t let his brain get in the way too much. He’s not sure what it is with you and your doe eyes and your sweet smile that makes him act different.
Whatever it is, it makes him ask “Did you have a good time?” instead of kissing you senseless behind the pole while watching to make sure Shoko doesn’t catch him in the act.
“It was amazing,” you say. “I don’t think— I don’t think I’d have gotten that close without you.”
“Did I force your hand?” he asks, frowning.
“No, no, that was great, actually.” And there it comes, his favorite words, and then he’ll kiss you. “Thank—”
“There you guys are!”
You have got to be kidding him. The Gods of timing are so set against him, he must have done something to piss them off badly in another life.
“Okay, we should start heading towards the exit,” Shoko announces.
“Nah, we ‘re staying until the end,” Gojo says, burying his hands, balled into fists, in his pockets. He’s being needlessly belligerent, but whatever, she deserves it, whether she knows it or not.
“Don’t be a dick,” she glares.
He smiles at her. And he doesn’t budge.
“We’ll run,” you say, stepping in. “I’m sure we can still beat the crowd if we run.”
She narrows her eyes at you, then at Gojo.
“You’re a bad influence, you know that?”
So many delicious thoughts coming to him, and he can’t do anything about it. Damn it all.
Of course, it ends with the five of you sprinting on the lawn and all the way back to the house. Of course, he doesn’t catch five seconds with you after that. Of course, your face is on his mind the whole night.
Of course, because it’s just his luck, isn’t it, in the morning, Shoko tells him you had to catch a flight early in the morning.
“I told you, don’t you remember? She’s going back to her family for the summer.”
Of course, he doesn’t.
Ah, whatever. It bothers him for a minute, but then the day continues unfolding, and the sun’s warm, it’s the peak of summer, and he only really knew you for a couple of days. He’ll see how he feels about it when college starts up again in the fall. He’s not known for sticking with things, anyway. He’ll probably forget; you probably won’t capture him again like you did; it was probably a fluke.
That, or these will become famous last words.
sequel
thank you so much for reading! i had a ton of fun writing gojo's pov and i hope you enjoyed it too, even if i'm still finding his voice :) please reblog or comment if you've enjoyed this, i'd love to hear from you! getting readers' feedback on my writing is what keeps me motivated to write so if you'd like to read more from me, that's the way to do it!
tagging the people who expressed interest in this: @elidebrey @xstom @chosospookiebear @xmysticredx
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#jjk x you#my writing#gojo imagine#jjk imagine#jjk x y/n
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Radioapple Secret Marriage/Relationship au:
(They were married from the beginning but no one knows. This is extremely self indulgent cause no one else was making this.)
When Alastor fell into hell, he needed some time to get his bearings – understanding his strength as well as other things. And as soon as that was done he wreaked havoc.
(Lucifer's pov from now on)
Lucifer had heard of a new overlord. Someone murdering and making others suffer while broadcasting their screams on radio. And usually, he never bothered with this stuff, demons could be demons and he wasn't someone to care about a few suffering sinners.
But when he saw the fact that his daughter couldn't sleep because she was worrying about the demons – he let her listen to the radio once and they both listened in silence to the screams – and when he saw how depressed she had been, he decided to pay this "radio demon" a visit.
And for one, he hadn't expected the radio demon – Alastor, apparently – to be so... How do you put it? Kind, welcoming, motherly, accepting... Well, let's just say that Lucifer's day wasn't dull when talking to him.
Originally, he was supposed to have a 'talk' with Alastor (basically give him a beat down but let's not sweat the details). But as time went on he found himself enjoying their conversations, his little antics and his cooking were all amazing. Everything Alastor did would just brighten his day, especially since Lilith was in the process of separating Charlie from him so he'd just started losing his daughter and wife – who was probably going to ask for a divorce soon.
He opened up to Alastor and the demon was surprisingly good at giving advice (honestly, that demon was full of surprises). And despite the good advice, Lilith kept leaving and soon the divorce happened along with his complete loss of custody over Charlie.
He would've gone into a deep depression had it not been for Alastor checking in on him and making sure he was okay. And so they hung out more, Alastor would always make sure to give him some homemade food and he also always asked Lucifer if he was okay.
Lucifer knew he was a sinner, a cold blooded murderer, a cannibal and so on. But honestly, he had fallen head over heels for Alastor. Alastor, who was quite sweet if you found him at the right time. Alastor, who always pretended to be a bad person by pretending to have bad intentions. Alastor, who cares for and loves his mother dearly.
He found Alastor beautiful, every side of him.
And so, he inevitably confessed. With the hope that he wouldn't end out like the street rat whom Alastor saved – Box, or something like that (yes spelling mistake was intentional).
And he didn't. Alastor certainly didn't love him (he only said "I like you too" which sort of hurt Lucifer but he didn't really care much about the difference) but he did accept the confession. And with that Lucifer felt as if he was over the moon.
They did couple things – human couple things. Both of then were inexperienced but it was lucky that Alastor often studied others around him. So they did those things.
They hugged, kissed, they even held hands! Could you believe that? And with their fourth date came Alastor's actual confession. "I love you." Alastor finally trusted him enough to say that L word.
Of course most of their dates were done under disguises or they had private dates where no one could see them. And with time Alastor began to open up even more.
Lucifer heard about his abusive, neglectful father. His murderous tendencies. The way he always felt different, somehow. And he comforted Alastor about these things.
It was nice, since he loved Alastor's genuine smile.
And soon he proposed – or they both did. Lucifer considered it his win since the ring he got was much more beautiful than Alastor's. But Alastor's held more sentimental value (it was a ring his mother had left him before she died). So they decided to leave that one at a tie.
The ceremony was held in private. Lucifer didn't want his daughter nor his ex-wife to know of his quick moving on and Alastor didn't want people to know how soft he could be.
And they were just like any other married couple, just much much more healthier and loving. And for the matter, they barely fought. Those days were when they first met. The days when Alastor didn't trust him and Lucifer wanted to beat him up learn why the hell he broadcasted screams.
So when it had been their seventh year living together in private (Alastor temporarily stepped away from his 'job' to spend married life with Lucifer), Alastor decided it was time to get back into the loop. Lucifer was quite sad about this but Alastor assured he would always make sure to come back on weekends.
It was funny to see that one day Alastor was standing beside his daughter and treating her like his own. And it was hard to act like he hated the demon, especially when he loved him so much.
(For the record, this is Lucifer fell first AND harder and it is not very canonlike but who cares! Both of them are a happy cute couple who pretend to hate each other and cuddle when no one is watching.)
(I needed more wholesome aus but no one else would write them so I delivered this. Have a nice meal kids.)
👀
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did i rant to my friends about dorian and orym just to be called a simp? yes i did. and i'll do it again.
these two characters? consume my waking thoughts. because just fucking think about this from a timeline/literary point of view for a second with me.
orym lost his husband and his father-in-law (who he always calls dad because he didn't have a dad growing up) in a violent attack on his leader a while ago and whatever magic was used to kill them kept them dead - no reviving magic worked to bring them back. in the space of a single attack, he lost two of the most important people in his life, and now he's a widow who still mourns and loves in equal measure even while far from home trying to save the world. he loves even though he's scared of losing again.
dorian is a runaway heir to a title he never really wanted, a musician for himself, a charlatan hiding behind an easy smile, who has really only ever wanted to see the world in his own time and make real friends for once in his life. and he did that! all on his own! he was with the group at the beginning of the campaign but then they ran into his older brother who was in trouble and needed to lay low and dorian went with him, falling back on old instincts that family by blood comes first. he ran from the group and from the foundations he was building with them. because dorian has only ever run from the things that scare him. but now he's back, re-traced his frightened footsteps toward the daunting promise of tomorrow - not yet with the group, we're getting his side of the story first. and he even said it himself, that he ran from the group and now he's not sure why he did it, why he left, when he stands here now and realizes everything he wanted was already in front of him.
they have sending stones, a once a day chance to say something to each other in 25 words or less. they've been using them, keeping each other updated on where they are, that they're still alive, and kindling this flame even without dorian at the table, without even seeing each other, and liam has been carrying this torch alone for 78 episodes but damn it the flame is still lit regardless!
and orym always updates on their progress and location first, and with whatever words he has left he drops in a sentiment to remind dorian that they still care - that orym still cares. and orym is practical through and through, he's a strategist so he always always always uses his words wisely because he's so fucking limited by this spell but the last message he sent? he repeated himself, he admitted a weakness, he faltered.
he told dorian where they were. he asked if dorian could come their way. he admitted to struggling while his voice broke. he asked again but in a different way if dorian could come their way. he ended the message with the most heartbreaking "fuck, i miss you," i have ever heard in my life.
orym, the man who messaged dorian 52 episodes ago and said "glad you're not here, wish you were anyway." because they're constantly in danger, and he wouldn't wish that on dorian, but he still aches to have him near. orym, the man who confessed 13 episodes ago during a trial with his friends that he's lonely, that he misses dorian and sometimes he thinks it's okay and sometimes he doesn't - because he was married and is still mourning and how dare he have feelings for someone else? how dare he move on even when his husband would WANT him to be happy again? he indicated dorian was missed by everyone in three of his previous messages before the trial, before finally shifting to 'I, orym, me - it's me who misses you'.
and dorian, the one who replied to a message orym sent him with "stay steadfast, sending you fairer winds" in the most longing tone i have EVER heard. dorian, who kissed orym's forehead when they parted ways but that is the closest they have come to acknowledging whatever is between them. dorian, who has been to orym's home between exu and c3 and met orym's mom and knows about orym's husband.
when orym died 58 episodes ago, he went limp and the sending stone slipped out of his hand because he was trying to message dorian before he died, before he ran out of words and breath. before he was revived, there was a moment he stood in the beyond and saw his husband and he told orym "you're not done," and orym said "i really wish i could stay," and then his husband said "i'll still be here," and orym said, heartbroken, "oh, i miss you so bad."
he told dorian, "i've really missed you," and "fuck, i miss you." i miss you is orym's way of saying i love you.
they're so close. they are so close. and orym fully died 19 episodes after dorian left, but he was revived and then never told dorian via sending that happened. part of me wants dorian to find out and the other part hopes he never has to feel like he failed orym by leaving. because nothing could have changed that from happening, not even dorian.
they are so close to reuniting, orym has needed dorian back for WEEKS and he's so close. i'm begging them to hold on so they can hold each other again.
and, again, from a literary point of view, you know the wildest part about all of this?
none of it is scripted.
#cr#critical role#dorian storm#orym of the air ashari#dorym#writing#my writing#i guess???? idk simp rant or whatever#anyway. am i making a hell of a lot of assumptions about their dynamic? yes.#will i be stopping? n o p e#this ship hasn't sailed far but i'm clinging to the steering wheel regardless#i had to get this out of my brain so i could focus on finals
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Hello, in case your requests are without any guidelines, can you a fic like this:
You saved the life of I.N., who was fatally injured in a deal gone wrong, but you're oblivious that he's from SKZ (an underground group known to be dangerous).
Let me know if you have any questions? Thanks for considering!
⭑ “i owe you” ⭑ pt.1
⭑ jeongin x female reader
⭑ content includes: non-idol reader, non-idol jeongin, causal mentions of blood and scars, mentions of other members (bang chan), reader is a doctor
⭑ note: by no means am i a doctor so please correct any of my terminology if its not used correctly.
⭑ minors dni
the red traffic light glowed in the cold, dark night, forbidding you from shutting your eyes. your car's broken clock insisted it was 12:08 AM, though you knew it must be at least 4:08 AM. The familiar alleyway you always surveyed after your dreaded shift was usually populated by drug dealers, homeless souls, and discarded beer cans. tonight, however, a figure crouched there, clutching his right hand and gazing up at the moon...
fortunately a parking spot was open right after the traffic stop and you rush your first aid kit out of the back, pacing to this odd instance. running up to strange man at 4 in the morning wouldn’t be ideal, but you’re a doctor who believes there is good in everyone, and leaving someone hurt is morally wrong. your footsteps slow down as you approach him, eventually stopping to make out his face.
his face was illuminated by the moon he looked up to for hope. his eyes were sharp and dreamy, reminiscent of a fox’s gaze. a fresh scar ran down his left cheek, hinting at a serious injury. you couldn’t make anything else of his condition, but it seemed severe and the only solution would be taking him home to treat him.
“e-excuse me?”
his eyes flickered to the direction of your voice, squinting at your - not too appealing - presence. regardless of his beauty, his tattoos and shredded, soiled clothes lent him an intimidating feel.
“who are you?” his voice couldn’t be described as deep, but rather a large and empty void.
“im y/ln, doctor at the local hospital here. i noticed you looked injured and came to help”
“im fine”
you moved closer to him, shining a small flashlight on his body. the injuries were severe and far from fine. knife wounds, bruises and a split lip covered his body, causing him to lose more blood by the minute.
“im sorry, but i cannot leave you in this condition”
he grunted, his grip tightening on his hand, struggling to give you an audible response.
“just. leave.”
you act quick and throw his limp arm around your shoulder, guiding him slowly to your car. his blood seeped into your shirt, but what worried you more was his life being between your hands.
“fuck! can’t you see it’s an open wound?” your body jumped at his cries, feeling heavier with sympathy for him. you tried your best to disinfect his wounds gently, but the pain would be near intolerable.
“it’s almost over” you whispered to him, too focused to answer him back properly.
he sat on the sofa of your living room, taking in the art works you hung on the wall to distract him from the gruesome pain. every now and then he would flinch or grunt, but it’s nothing you’ve never dealt with before as a doctor.
you near the end of his ‘procedure’ and move to his face, inspecting the deep scar that ran across his cheek and his busted lip. a mix of disappointment and curiosity washed over you, expressed in a long sigh.
“what did you get yourself into?”
“nothing”
“what’s your name?” your questions were an attempt to distract the painful alcohol grazing his cuts, but his hissing and grunting never came to a stop.
“j-jeong in”
you repeat the name to yourself, its familiarity nudging at your head. while preparing the bandages, you couldn’t help but take in his strong facial features. he looks back at you too, eyes outlining every detail of your face. you couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity, so you give it up to him being an old patient but a tattoo on his neck catches your eye, denying your conclusion.
(SKZ)
“SKZ? where have i heard that before?” it sounded like something that may have been in the newspapers they handed out to the doctors offices, or something on the news channel, but the lack of sleep wouldn’t be able to catch onto anything.
“you forced me into your home to fucking question me?!” he screamed at your face, looking at you in disgust. the words caught in your throat and you felt like crying, your thoughts crashing down. today had been stressful enough, and having someone scream at you was the last straw. jeongin notices the beads of tears forming on your waterline, changing his expression in a matter of seconds.
“please, just finish so i can leave” he sighs, turning to face the sunrise that peeked through the curtains. the teardrop falls on your leg and you return to what you should’ve been doing, feeling bad for the unnecessary confrontation you gave him.
a contact named “bang chan” buzzed his phone and he picks it up, placing it up to his ear and squirming at the pain of the alcohol on the scar of his cheek. you attempt to listen to some of the muffles from the other side, hoping you can conclude your suspicions about him.
jeongin- “yea?”
bang chan- “where are you man?”
jeongin- “getting treated by a random doctor in her house”
his eyes dart from his arm to your face, holding your gaze.
bang chan- “are you crazy? we are high profile by the police and you’re at a random doctors house?”
his tone was clearly sterner, but all the noises you could hear faded at the thought of having someone wanted infront of you. your body stiffens but you act clueless, worried of how dangerous he may be.
jeongin- “just… ill be back”
bang chan- “man this isn’t funny at all. you’re getting us in some deep shit”
jeongin- “she looks like she wouldn’t tell a soul”
bang chan- “a doctor? you couldn’t pick a worse person to help you?”
he scans your face for any fear or regret, but you hold back any emotions until he would be out of your house and safe.
bang chan- “god you’re so fucking oblivious. be here before the afternoon”
he laughs at his comment, ending the call.
you put all the equipment back to its place as jeongin sips on a mug of green tea, slouching on the couch. as a doctor you couldn’t let him out too early and he had to be watched for at least a day. but you were worried of his criminal state and if his friend would barge the door of your house open.
“you’ll need to rest. don’t get yourself involved in any of… that”
he nods, getting up to place his mug on the counter and head for the door.
“thank you. really”
you close your eyes, nodding at him and inspecting his bandages one more time.
“i owe you”
and with that, it would’ve been the last encounter with him. many questions ran through your head but it would autopilot to your couch, falling asleep to the memory of his ethereal but odd face.
the alleyway remained significant to you, always looking for him, or for another injured individual. but with the overflowing pressure of becoming a doctor and having no time to yourself, everything would fade away and it would become endless hours of work.
FIVE YEARS LATER
you parkoured between your new neighbors boxes to get to your door,
placing the groceries on the floor and rummaging for your key. your eyes couldn’t help but dart to the many boxes. the apartment next to you is finally occupied after a mysterious 3 years of nobody renting it.
at the collection of that thought, the door of the new neighbors unlocks, startling you. a mans back faced you, his hair orange, wearing a black leather jacket and black jeans. it was only when he turned that your heart may have stopped. his features were unmatched and unique, taking you a while to absorb before greeting him.
“hey! new neighbor?”
he didn’t respond for a while, looking at you with confusion.
“your name?”
“it’s y/n. im a doctor at the local hospital here. what about you?”
“jeongin”
recollections of that very night begin to flow through your mind and how everyday for weeks you stared into the dark alleyways, trying to picture his body there. immediately your eyes dart to his neck, only to find his tattoos slightly fading.
(SKZ)
your eyes dart back to his face, still questioning if it was true or not.
“i owe you”
TO BE CONTINUED
⭑ TAG LIST
@captainchrisstan @rylea08 @strayywayy @all4minnie @katsukis1wife @kayleefriedchicken
#stray kids#stray kids oneshot#skz#skz smut#stray kids smut#skz fanfic#skz scenarios#kpop#kpop oneshots#kpop bg#kpop smut#x reader#bang chan#bangchan x reader#lee know#lee know x reader#changbin#changbin x reader#hwang hyunjin#hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#jisung x reader#lee felix#lee felix x reader#seungmin#seungmin x reader#jeongin#jeongin x reader#smut#angst
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JJH fic recs
been getting a little hard trying to find long fics to read these days but here are some that i complied in the last month or so :)
(🫀) -personal faves
all these years @domjaehyun
WC: 34.1k
fluff, smut, angst; childhood friends-to-lovers!au, college!au, neighbors!au
Just friends @lonelyharmonies
WC: 22k
Strangers-to-friends- to-lovers!au , college au
what happens when you wake up in someone else’s bed after getting drunk in a party?
(🫀) Only @ppangjae
WC: 21.6k
almost!lovers au
You like to believe crossing paths with Jaehyun after graduation is just pure coincidence. He always comes and goes. But what if he decides to stay? To stick around? To give what was an ‘almost’ a chance?
Romeo roulette @wincore
WC:21.1k
soulmate au, office au, fake dating
if finding your soulmate is the same as a damn game of Russian roulette, you are determined to not pull the trigger at all. except, you know who your soulmate is and he doesn’t—and given a choice to pretend, you find that jaehyun is the lesser of the two burdens to bear.
he fell first and he fell harder @taurusdaylight
WC: 18.7k
Basketball captain!jaehyun, childhood-friends-to-lovers
jeong jaehyun really loves basketball. but also, he’s terribly in love with his childhood best friend of seventeen years, you.
(🫀) all i wanted @yutaholic
WC: 17k
heartbreakers, smut
A year has passed since you last saw your best friend, Jaehyun, but the man who returns is not the boy you once knew and loved. Jaehyun will barely speak to you and you don’t know why, but you both may be exactly what the other needs to mend your broken hearts.
(🫀)The Apple of My Eye @sehunniepotwrites
WC: 17k
school! au , teacher!au , Kindergarten teacher!jaehyun
As a young and handsome kindergarten teacher of two years, Jeong Jaehyun was used to receiving presents during Teacher’s Appreciation Week. This, however, was the first year Jaehyun wanted to give a present of appreciation to someone else—his new and ever-so-lovable teacher’s assistant.
(🫀)song for a little sparrow @ppangjae
WC:13.7k
poet!jaehyun x painter!reader , strangers-to-lovers
As a burnt out painter, you packed one suitcase and flew a one-way trip to Paris in hopes of finding your passion again. In the city of love, the last thing you expected was to bump into a man who doesn’t believe in love. But you do, and you find yourself showing him the wonders of love and falling in love. Just don’t fall in love with him.
I like me better (when i’m with you) @tyonfs
WC:11.8k
friends to enemies to lovers, sports au , smut
there was no one else on the planet that made your blood boil like jeong jaehyun did. you never thought your feelings toward him were anything past pure hatred, but when you were lost in the feeling of his lips on yours and his hands on your body, you couldn’t help but think that maybe a part of you didn’t completely hate his guts.
Someone to Bring Home @rouiyan
WC: 10.2k
Med student!jaehyun, College au, Brothers best friend , home for thanksgiving
synopsis — “if you’ve been waiting for fallin’ in love, babe, you don’t have to wait on me.” (sanctuary - joji)
Boyfriend material @mochidoie
WC: 6.2k
fake dating au, strangers-to-lovers , slight angst
Although you and Jaehyun had never spoken a word to each other before this class project, he asks you to be in a fake relationship in order to prove to his longtime crush that he is boyfriend material.
Back up Valentine @tyonfs
WC: 2.9k
Spiderman!jaehyun
you don’t have any unrealistic expectations for valentine’s day considering your love life has never flourished, but the least your best friend could’ve done was not summon an intergalactic army of an alien species during your first blind date ever.
SERIES
S.C.S; ayakashi @starlightkun
WC:66.2k
heavily based off yet another otome game, ayakashi: romance reborn ; bc of this, all the lore used in here is inspired by/based on/taken from the lore of the game, not the actual lore of traditional ayakashi/yokai stories
#nct 127 jaehyun#jaehyun nct#jaehyun#jaehyun layouts#jaehyun imagines#nct jaehyun#jeong jaehyun#jaehyun smut#jaehyun au#jaehyun fluff#nct 127 au#nct fluff#nct au#nct imagines#nct u#nct smut#nct 127#nct#nct x reader#jung yoonoh#jung jaehyun
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Dabi held your unconscious body in his arms, his body and mind feeling still. Heroes and villains had an agreement, an agreement the heroes broke. No one touches the doctors or medical staff; everyone needs healing, it was stupid to kill off the only people who could help with that. You were a doctor, someone that consistently worked with villains because you didn’t care or treat them any differently than a hero. You were a doctor, you were Dabi’s doctor, and no one touched his doctor.
He retrieved you from that burning building, not giving a fuck about any injuries he might sustain. Word about what had happened at the local clinic traveled fast and Dabi wasn’t about to let you die. He wasn’t sure what this feeling was, it was as if time had stopped when he found you, a eerie quiet surrounded him as he made sure you were safe from any harm. Twice and everyone else that helped him get you took a step back, knowing Dabi was dangerous right now as rage seemed to seep out of his body. They even had to convince him to set you down once they made it back to the lov, he refused to let you out of his arms for a while. But once he was sure you were going to be okay, he left. Not a single word was spoken.
Dabi was going to find those heroes. How dare they touch you. How dare they try to kill you. His blood boiled as his skin started to grow hot from the flames that licked his skin as he walked. A crazed look started to appear on his face as he just started setting anything and everything on fire. You may have been a necessary sacrifice or whatever the fuck those heroes would have called it. You were expendable to the heroes, but to Dabi? Oh no, Dabi would burn down the world for you, and he was going to burn it down until those who chose to hurt you paid.
#dabi x reader#dabi x y/n#dabi x self insert#mha imagines#mha dabi#dabi imagine#id watch the world buuurn id watch the world burn for youuuu#been watching too many of those tiktoks fr
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thinking of rafayel who does the most he can to win MC, all his efforts, all his time (missed art exhibitions, unfinished paints) but all of that gradually dwindles as time passes. he's watching MC fall for someone else in real time (bonus points if MC just never felt the same way at all). then there's some nights where he's staring out in the ocean and when he thinks about MC a little too damn much, the symbol of their bond burns against his chest and with fire coming from his fingers through his evol, he's scratching at the symbol, leaving angry red marks on his chest where the symbol resides, taunting him. so he scratches harder, lemurian blood flowing through the wound. he does so as if getting rid of it would free him. but it's proven futile when his blood heals the wound and he's back at square one, but a little more empty each time it happens.
the thing is, he doesn't yell nor scream. he doesn't curse the ocean—if anything, he's spent, jaded—his eyes empty. then he turns his back to the ocean, like he did many times for her. returns to his studio. probably throws paint around out of sheer anger and passes it as a new piece that he'll paint throughout his rage and somehow turn it into something peaceful. a calm scenery. no one would know that under the calm vibes of the painting was rage like a storm at sea, and he's smiling that charming smile, eyes bright to others but voided to him, engaging in conversations with others at art exhibitions, or interviews scheduled the following day. like he didn't just try to scratch his damn heart out by his flames the nights before.
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First of all, LOVE YOUR ART AND AU AND HEADCANONS, seriously, sometimes i feel that, at least the premise, is better than the original. Anyway, I have questions:
God's design when??????
Are the ars goetia still in your sinner's symphony au?
Do the archangels like lilith? What do they think of her and Luci's relationship?
did Constantine and Charlie go to some sort of university or have any kind of diploma or career?
How did serenity got her luck magic? Like, did she just appeared with it or...someone else?
What was Husk and Serenity's reaction meeting each other again at the hotel?
What is Serenity's job at the hotel?
Where do sinner appear in hell? Is there like a pit where they fall or what?
How are u? I wanna know how u doin in life
Sorry for too many questions
I AM SO GLAD YOU LIKE MY AU AND MY HEADCANONS!
I don't have a design idea for the god yet but even if I show him I plan to show only his hands and clothes.
2. they are in my AU and they're even a race created by Paimon and Lilith
3. Uriel and Jophiel was friends with Lilith and the others had a respectful relationship with her. frankly, most of them were not so sure about this relationship. yes, they knew that Lilith really loved their brother, but they sometimes think that if Lucifer and Lilith had not been together, maybe their brother would never have fallen.
4. Both of them were educated in the palace by the most knowledgeable teachers in hell, they didn't need to go to school. but even so, Lilith and Lucifer sent them to private school for some periods to socialize them.
5. I'm putting here a part of the story of Serenity.
(She is Half Sheep Half Wolf now I changed it)
6. obviously their first encounter was awkward, the last time Husk met Serenity was when she was making a deal with him, and Serenity's last words to him
It was "your ego and arrogance will make you someone's pet, Husk, but maybe only then you will overcome these flaws and reveal the old person inside you, goodbye old friend." Seriously, there was a strange coldness between them at first, but they solved it over time
7.Serenity came as a guest at first, but in the future she became someone who helped Charlie's plans a lot, a kind of advisor.
8.the sinners are born in a pit of mud, at first they are reborn in hell from something made of blood and mud on the ground and they try to get out of the pit and reach the city (a place similar to the place where Markus woke up in Detroit Become Human)
youtube
9.I'm fine! Thank you very much for asking! How are you?
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While y'all waiting on your sketches and Eshra's "in game" dialogues lemme talk about Vice for a sec, because I love them with my whole being and unhealthily obsessed.
BG3 SPOILERS AHEAD
VICE (he/they/it)
Mechanically, spore druid, flavouring him as just some disgusting necromancing swamp devil, not actually tying him to any circles or balance obsessed folk.
Vice is quite emotionless and blunt, some would say even cruel. "When you out of my sight — you don't exist" type of person. So far, the only durge who flat out made conscious decision to kill Karlach, as he couldn't care less that she's just a tiefling, if that what Wyll's mission is, then he better do it and quit whining (tbf if Vice met Karlach first then Wyll would be the one dying, I just forgot that was a possibility lol.) Vice just doesn't care much for negotiations in these confrontations. They have a passive attitude when it comes to confrontations with his companions, he's more amused than anything, when he's being threatened, suddenly feeling strangely confident and patronizing, as if intentionally provoking to bigger conflict. It probably would get better in act 3, but right now he's quite an asshole.
I wouldn't say he isn't capable of understanding emotions and moral dilemmas, but he's driven mostly by his own whims and wants. He recognizes when he killed without any good reason, but he doesn't necessarily feel bad about his kills. He might do or not do something just because he feels like it, even if he knows it might hurt someone, he doesn't care, unless it's someone deeply close to him or someone he is very curious about, which is hard to achieve.
He haven't got there yet with him, but considering how his relationships with Shadowheart look rn — she's in quite dangerous area with the whole nightsong deal, as Vice couldn't give two shits about her (or anyone else's) secrets and just doesn't ask companions about their lives until they speak about it themselves. So Shadowheart haven't got a chance to tell him anything about her worship or herself. That makes her distant to him, which makes him not give much of a shit, considering nightsong is not only the key for Thorm's immortality but also a potential strong ally. The attempt to kill Lae'Zel also doesn't do Shadowheart any favours in Vice's eyes, as he enjoys company of those who are more straightforward like Lae'Zel, because if you want something from him — you better tell as it is, and not dance around the subject. That is why he's most close to Minthara and Lae'Zel, while being more prickly to Gale, Shadowheart and Jaheira.
Vice is yet another durge who doesn't care much about their lust for blood, nor concerned by their own actions. The only thing he strongly doesn't like about it is losing control, but he is curious about his past.
Concept of romantic relationship is a bit alien to him, as is any sexual relationships. Yet again, it's not like he's not capable, considering how it is with Bhaal, I'd say Vice probably was a huge horndog before amnesia, but after the incident he just didn't give much of a thought to it, since there are bigger problems at hand. His level of understanding the romance will actually depend on if he kills Isobel or not. If Vice won't do it, and my favourite durge camp scene happens — Vice will be kinda pushed to think about it for a moment, when Skeletaris make comments on whatever companion that will be. That would make him dig deeper into his everyday time with that companion and consider what his feelings are and does he even have them.
If Vice kills Isobel and gets power — he gets more emotionless and aloof, mindless killing will be much easier, just like it would be easier to betray close friends for power or just for his own fun. (And the latter even Minthara won't approve of, considering her opinion on killing without purpose).
Would've probably went with the whole Bhaal biz if it wasn't for losing control over his body (After Karessa, he unconsciously grown to absolutely despise any sort of helplessness and lack of control over his own body). So he most likely will be the most questionable "redeemed" dark urge.
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What's Your Type? || Sebmark
Mark was an attractive man, nobody could deny that, and if he did, they’d be lying. As a result of this, Mark was always approached by both women and men looking for a good night
Sebastian knew this. Sebastian and Mark weren’t together, they barely even talked a lot, but the thought of Mark fucking somebody else than Sebastian, made the blonde’s blood boil till he overheated
Sebastian had tried multiple times to get closer to Mark, but the way the Aussie looked at him was too intimidating, yet, the German got so turned on when he looked at him like that
It was embarrassing how jealous Sebastian got when he saw various girls and guys walk over to Mark when they were out celebrating after a good race
Mark could get any of the people who walked over to him, but for some reason, he had turned them all down. Every single one of them. Sebastian wanted to know why but never dared to ask
He had told himself that tonight. Tonight was the night he was gonna ask… He just needed a little more alcohol inside him before he could get the courage to be under his intimidating stare without getting a hardon you could see from a mile away
The clock had hit around 2 in the morning, and everybody had started going back to their hotels, getting some rest before their flight to the UK
Sebastian drowned the last bit of his drink before he placed the empty glass on the bar counter and walked over to the booth Mark was sitting at, alone since the others had abandoned him to go before they got too drunk
Mark merely looked at Sebastian. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at him the way he normally did
“Mate, I'm warning you. I’m really drunk” Mark said, his accent thickened by the alcohol
“Yeah, that’s fine, I just wanna ask you something” Mark leaned back into his seat, looking at Sebastian across the table “Why? Why do you turn everybody away who walks up to you? They clearly want to get into your pants, and you could get any of them, yet, you turn them all away” Sebastian yapped quickly, confused by his teammate's actions
“They’re not my type” He shrugged
Not his type? Sebastian had noticed that, from the girls' side, they were all different, but the guys, they were all tall, muscular, fit, full of themselves, brunette, brown eyes “What is your type?”
It was only now that Mark looked at him the way he normally did. Sebastian squirmed in his seat, he might even have let out a whimper if you listened closely enough
Mark looked Sebastian up and down the best he could with the table blocking his lower body “Short, blonde, blue eyes, not someone who hits the gym every waking out” Mark hit Sebastian’s foot with his own, playing it off as an accident “A twink” He said, making intense eye contact with Sebastian as he took a sip of the alcohol in his glass
Sebastian’s cheek heated up with a slight blush, as well as it crept down his neck. It wasn’t noticeable if you were starting a few feet away, but with how close the two were sitting across from each other, it was very noticeable for the Aussie
It drew out a chuckle from him as he saw the change of colour in the German’s cheeks
The kiss was messy from the start, even more so as they stumbled into one of their hotel rooms. It was wet, sloppy, and uncoordinated. Both sets of hands all over each other
Sebastian had pressed Mark up against the wall and gotten on his knees quicker than what wouldn’t have hurt him
Mark’s one hand had drawn through Sebastian’s hair, pulling at it softly as Sebastian’s small hands worked on the Aussie’s belt, looking up at him through hooded eyelids, looking so innocent, even with their mixed spit running down his chin from the messy kiss
“Fuck. You’re so pretty like this, Seb” Mark breathed out, almost a breathy moan as Sebastian had gotten Mark’s jeans and boxers down to his mid-thighs
Sebastian whined at Mark’s words, feeling his hand tugging on his hair as he spit in the palm of his hand, slowly getting Mark fully hard
“F-fuck” His breath shuttered as Sebastian’s thumb went over his tip “God. You’re so good at that” Mark smiled as Sebastian slowly circled his tongue around the head
Sebastian smiled as well as he could while taking all of Mark into his mouth that he could, putting his hand around the rest he couldn’t fit
Sebastian started moving, gaging ever so slightly as he could feel Mark hitting the back of his throat
Mark groaned every time he hit Sebastian’s throat as it sent vibrations all through his cock and up his spine, pulling him closer to the edge, making him tighten his hand in Sebastian’s hair, making the German moan around the cock in his mouth
Mark forced Sebastian off of him, panting hard. He looked down at where Sebastian sat, lips puffy, spit down his cheek, hair messy, eyes watering from the force in his throat and the sting in the scalp of his hair
“Fuck, you’re good at that” He chuckled, stroking his thumb over Sebastian’s cheek
“Thank you” He smiled slightly, going toward Mark again, trying to get his mouth on him
“Don’t. Gonna make me come” He was still panting hard
“Isn’t that the point, no?” Sebastian asked with a confused expression
“I’m an old man, Seb. I can’t go multiple rounds” His breathing had settled somewhat back to normal “Strip and get on the bed” Sebastian didn’t hesitate to take off his clothes and get on the bed, laying on his back
Mark slowly walked over to him, getting his own clothes off at a painfully slow speed
The moment Mark slightly hovered over Sebastian’s naked body, he had his legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer
“Seb, no need to rush” Mark said, kissing the blonde’s neck, drawing whimpers from him
“Please, I just want you inside me. Please” Sebastian begged, bucking his hips up, hoping for some friction
Mark didn’t see it, but he could feel Sebastian scramble on the bed
“Mark, please. I just need you inside me, bitte” He whined, pressing the bottle of lube into the Aussie’s hand
“Give me a pillow” Mark said, leaning back to take a proper look at him
He put the pillow under his hips, getting Sebastian in an ankle where Mark would hit him in the perfect spot with ease
Mark poured some of the lube onto his fingers, warming it up a bit before pressing one to his rim, making Sebastian whimper and grip the sheets beneath him
He entered his first finger, holding onto Sebastian’s thigh with the other hand, digging his nails softly into his skin
He twisted his finger, getting Sebastian adjusted before he started moving it, hearing all the whimpers that he drew out of the German
Mark slowly pushed a second finger into him, drawing out a moan from Sebastian at the suddennessnness
He slowly started moving his fingers, stretching him out so beautifully. He curled his fingers, hitting just the right spot inside Sebastian that made him almost scream out his moans and his body shake
Mark entered his third finger, even though Sebastian had said multiple times he was ready. Poor judgment had Mark thought
“Mark, please I’m ready. Bitte, bitte. Please” Mark finally gave in to Sebastian’s pretty begging. He curled his fingers one last time before he pulled them out, earning him a whine from the man under him
He wiped off his fingers on Sebastian’s thigh, making him squirm under his touch
Sebastian looked up at Mark as he poured lube onto himself. He gave himself a few pumps with his hand before he lined himself up with Sebastian’s hole
Sebastian whines and whimpers as Mark slowly pushes into him. He groaned himself as he pushed all the way in. He held his hips still, getting the German to adjust to him
A few seconds went by before Sebastian told him he could move. He didn’t hesitate and started moving slowly
He grabbed Sebastian’s hips tightly, digging his nails into his skin, most definitely leaving marks for him to see tomorrow
As he started setting a faster and rougher pace, he had found his prostate, drawing out the most beautiful loud moans Mark had ever heard
“Fuck, you sound so pretty, baby” He said, shifting his weight onto his left arm, hovering over him, speeding his hips up more
“Fuck, Mark. Please- ‘m so close” Sebastian pleaded between his moans, wanting his release
“Hold on for me a little longer, okay?” Sebastian managed to nod a few times, even as his body shook rapidly beneath Mark, trying to hold his orgasm back
Hi attempt to hold it back, made him clench hard and fast down onto Mark, pulling him closer to his release as well
“You’re so- Fuck, you feel so good” He groaned, putting his hand around Sebastian’s cock, slowly starting to stroke him “Come for me” Sebastian didn’t need any more confirmation before he came, shooting his load onto his stomach and down Mark’s hand
Mark wasn’t long behind. He managed a few more thrusts before he stilled his hips and came deep inside Sebastian with a deep groan
As he felt himself soften, he pulled out of Sebastian, not missing the small whine that escaped from his plump lips. He laid down beside him, propping himself up on his arm “You’re real pretty, you know that?” Mark asked, causing a giggle from Sebastian who rolled over as well
“You’re drunk,” He said, smiling nonetheless
“Yeah, but I know what I'm talking about,” He said, placing a kiss against his lips, hand into his hair, messing it up even more. He pulled back and went to find a damp towel to clean them both up with
“How long?” Sebastian asked as Mark pulled his body into his own “How long have i been your type?” He clarified, letting hi head fall into the crook of Mark’s neck
“Ever since i laid my eyes on you the first time”
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I've let this wolf into my home (I feed it even when it bites)
Blood nose and a crooked tongue (I always wanted to be someone) - series masterlist here
pairing: tim drake x reader (gender neutral)
length: 1.5k
genre: fluff ??
warnings: you don't know red robin and timmy are the same person but he sure knows you, he's also so so awkward but he can't help it
a/n: alright alright alright here we go <3
The jingle of the coffee shop door opening startles you, your head snapping up from where you're sitting, slouched over in the corner. It's a 24-hour shop, yes, but who else would really be here at 3am? The barista behind the counter looks just as surprised, blinking rapidly and looking at the person who came in.
You, on the other hand, opt not to, sighing and looking back down at your table, instead. The coffee in your to-go cup is still hot, burning your fingers as you shift them over the label. It's bright, a cartoonish sort of thing that grins up at you like an old friend you should be happier to see. You've been getting this coffee for years. You're never quite as happy as you should be.
The chair opposite you makes a horrible sort of sound as it's pulled out and you look up to see who's sitting across from you. You purse your lips in annoyance while he just looks at you.
"All the other tables have just been cleaned. They're wet," he points out. You let your eyes flit around the cafe, the tabletops shining wetly in the dull glow of the lights, the disinfectant bottle still sitting abandoned on one of them.
"Lucky me," you bite back, taking a sip of your coffee. It's sweet - too sweet, but not enough to cover the bitterness of the burnt grounds. You always think that if you pile enough sugar into it, it'll mask what's wrong. You're never right.
The man sitting opposite you takes a sip of his own - he left it black, you notice. He grimaces slightly at the taste, but keeps drinking anyway. There's no effort there to pretend it's anything other than what it is - burnt, cheap coffee sold to him in a cafe full of ghosts, in a city that should be sleeping but never really does. It's interesting, you think, as you look out the window and into the dark street. You'd almost managed to convince yourself that you were really alone - that there was no one else in this world except you, until he walked in and broke the reverie of your 3am silence.
For what it's worth, Tim regretted it as soon as he'd walked in. He hadn't meant to stay, really - ending up in a part of Gotham he didn't often find himself in, in his civvies and in desperate need of a hot cup of coffee and a long sleep, he'd stumbled across the flickering, neon sign of a 24-hour coffee shop.
What good luck, he'd thought. Now, sitting across from you, there's a desperate little part of him that thinks maybe it wasn't just that - maybe it was intuition that drew him here. You don't know who he is, of course, all your previous meetings happening in the shadows of your home with his face hidden from you. Tim shifts in his seat, suddenly aware of how naked he feels, exposed to your wandering eyes.
And you do let your eyes wander, narrowing them suspiciously as you take him in. Tim feels a pang of guilt that surprises him when he thinks that this is probably how you've always felt with him - like a lamb with a wolf at your door. As you lean back in your chair, swirling your coffee and letting your gaze trail away from him and towards the window, he feels his shoulders drop in relief. He's not the only wolf in your living room late at night, he realizes. You've got teeth of your own that he'd just never noticed.
You're good at this, Tim thinks with a start - you've got a foot propped up on the window sill next to you, your head resting in your hand as you watch the street outside idly. Or, at least, it's supposed to look like that. He thinks that if he were anyone normal, he would believe it. But Tim has spent enough time as prey to know when someone's pretending to let their guard down.
He looks away from you almost forcefully, staring down at his cup and running his tongue over his teeth as he thinks of the burnt taste of it. He wonders if you were smart enough to put sugar in yours - wise enough to bury the bitterness with something nicer. It's something he always thinks he should do. He can never quite make himself.
"I'm sure those other tables are dry now." Your voice makes him flinch, a hard, forceful thing that cuts through the silence of the night that's blanketed the two of you. Tim looks around at the dull, streaky tabletops and shrugs.
"I'm already comfortable here," he offers. You cock your head to the side and look at him, but make no move to fight him on it. He thinks it's probably stupid of him, inviting a lion into his home like this. He wonders if you feel the same way every time he slides in through your balcony door.
There's a silence that, once more, overtakes the two of you as he shifts in his seat. Tim wonders if he should drink faster, if he should pretend to be finished so that he can leave. It's funny, he thinks, how he finally felt like he'd stopped running away when he started running into you. It's funny that, now, he's itching for it, his hands gripping his cup in an attempt to still his heart - his need to escape.
You look back at him just in time to see him squeeze a little too hard, the cheap plastic lid popping off and hot coffee sloshing a bit over his hands. A mild, bemused sort of look crosses your face as you watch him curse and splutter as the coffee burns his hands and spills onto the table. Then, without a word, you stand up and begin to walk away.
Tim, in the meantime, is rubbing his hands against his jeans, his eyes squeezed shut in mortification as he wonders how he ruined it all so quickly. Not for the first time, he wishes he was in the mask - thinks maybe the only way to hold onto you is to make sure that's all you ever see. But then your cup scrapes across the table and he opens his eyes to see you sitting opposite him again, sipping idly and watching. There's a stack of napkins that he swore wasn't there before and - oh.
"Thanks," is all he can make himself say as he grabs them, cleaning up the mess he's made. As he goes to pop the lid back onto his cup, he looks at the dark liquid inside and grimaces, deciding that maybe it's not worth it.
"It's shit coffee," you say, and he slams his hand against the table, crushing the plastic lid in the process. Truly, he's not sure if he's ever acted this nervous before. You pay it no mind. He thinks maybe he could take off his mask, just this once, and reaches up to his face in time to remember that he's already exposed to you. "You're better off finding something else… or just going somewhere else." Tim smiles, then, a charming sort of thing that has you narrowing your eyes.
"I dunno,' he says. "There's something I like about right here." You glance down at your own cup, at the label that you've picked and peeled off until it's unrecognizable, the colours torn and cracked.
"There's nothing good about right here. And things like that don't change." Tim looks at you for a long moment after you speak, letting the words tumble around his head before he stands, taking his cup and squished lid and pile of wet napkins with him.
"Well, I've never been big on change, anyway," is all he says as he walks away, dumping everything in the bin and letting the bell on the door jingle as he walks out. Looking back down to the table, you notice the card he's left behind - the Wayne Ent. logo flashing behind his name. Flipping it over, his number's been written in a hasty scrawl.
As you thumb a corner of the card, you wonder when he'd slipped it onto the table - when he'd written on it. Mostly, you wonder what kind of person he'd have to be to do it without you noticing. You trace the numbers with your finger and think that something, far in the back of your mind, is telling you that there's a familiarity about it all.
But what's familiar about seeing someone in a place where you never should? What's normal about that man, appearing like a ghost in the night and disappearing just as fast? As you pull out your phone to add his number to your contacts, there's a part of you that thinks maybe you should run away - that maybe you're not the only thing stalking the streets of Gotham this late.
#smsn.writes#tim drake#tim drake x reader#tim drake x you#tim drake x y/n#tim drake fluff#tim drake imagine#tim drake fanfiction#tim drake fic#red robin#red robin x reader#red robin x you#red robin x y/n#red robin imagine#red robin fluff#red robin tim drake#tim drake wayne
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I really don't like how in the new chapter all of Yuuji's individuality and specialty gets reduced to his body. It quite literally says it doesn't matter who operates his body, all that counts is what they use it for and then it works on autopilot, Yuuji himself doesn't have to do anything. The only reason he got this far and learned so fast is because other people used his body. He himself, as a person, is nothing special and has no unique skills. It's all his inherited physical capability and the people taking advantage of it.
After sitting on it a bit, I think I get what Gege is going for here and the message that once again gets underlined.
Even people who claim to care about him as a person like Choso perpetuate this narrative. Choso says without any pushback that Yuuji should eat the remaining Death Paintings to make his body stronger and swap souls with someone else so they can also improve on his body. No one ever questions if Yuuji is alright with that or what he himself could contribute, if he could maybe just learn something on his own through regular training with Kusakabe. They all say for Yuuji to get better as quickly as possible, his body has to get better if he likes it or not. And that's why Yuuji goes along with it because other people must know best what's good for him, he can't even understand his own physique after all. Let them make the decisions about him, he'll just do the dirty work of going out there in the end and punching Megumi out of Sukuna. He gets objectified again just like when he was still the vessel who was meant to seal Sukuna once and for all and gets executed to rid the world of the King of Curses for good. Same principle, different method. He can take the lead in planning how to kill Sukuna, the thing he was created to do, but he can't make decisions about his own body.
Yuuji is just a tool for others to use. For him to have any value as a sorcerer more skilled and experienced people have to use his body or he uses their body (Death Paintings, Sukuna) to take their skills for himself in the service of others.
The only thing unique to him at the moment (who knows for how long) is his perception and targeting of souls. It seems to be something you can't just inherit or gain by being or having a vessel as Sukuna can't do the same thing. The only other people who could do it were Mahito and to a degree Yuki. And this is what gives Yuuji an advantage over Sukuna and what can be used to actually hurt him. RCT and Simple Domain keeps him alive, Blood Manipulation and Shrine are distractions, but his soul punches are what got Sukuna in the miserable state he's in now.
#trying to make a meaningful spin on this#I still feel like Gege is leaning too heavily on the crutch that is Yuuji's body and his lineage#just let Yuuji improve on his own jfc he has the drive to do it#and the cog mentality could be explored through it as well#but we'll see#jjk spoilers#itadori yuuji#jjk 258
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Maxiel au 1400 words
Spies? Hitman? one of them. Idk where this came from but I really want to see what happens next, sadly I’m the one who has to write what happens next. Also, the maxiel is kind of implied…imaginary, almost. Pre relationship kind of. Squint while using a magnifying glass and you’ll see it.
inspired by the adore you verse (@onboardsorasora ) literally so good.
Max walked through the hotel corridors, tapping an envelope in his hand as he went. He kept his head on a swivel mainly to check if anyone was following him, but also to keep an eye out for the room he was looking for.
Suddenly a door opened behind him and he immediately tensed, turning his head around to see who it was. A man in a grey suit walked out talking loudly into his phone. The guy paid him no mind, but he still watched as he made sure he got into the elevator and the doors closed.
A minute passed and he tried to make himself relax. He brought his shoulders down from his ears and removed his hand that, on reflex, went to his gun holster.
He hadn’t always been like this. Two years ago you wouldn’t catch him using a gun. It made things too easy. However, recent events made him pick it up again. That, and the bullet wound in his arm made him decide that he doesn’t care if guns made things easy; getting shot fucking hurt.
He shook out his arms and continued walking.
330…331…332…
He stopped infront the door.
333.
He looked down at himself, his dress shoes had flecks of blood on them and his pants were a little dusty. He frowned but decided he looked good enough. He had stolen a shirt from house keeping earlier, but threw away the nameplate.
Sorry Jerry D. , but he needed to look presentable for what he was about to do.
He knocked on the door.
No answer.
He waited and leaned closer to try and hear if anyone was moving around.
Nothing.
He knows that there’s someone in there because the front desk said they hadn’t checked out yet.
He realizes now that the front desk could have been lying.
He knocks again. This time he hears a thud and mumbling. No one opens the door.
Max has had enough of this.
“Listen I know you’re in there. I have something you want,” he hears the click of a lock, and smiles a bit, “Daniel-“
The door flies open and he’s pulled inside and thrown face first to the floor. He couldn’t catch himself as it was so unexpected and he curses himself for it.
He rolls onto his back and reaches for his gun to shoot-
The gun isn’t there. It’s being pointed in his face.
He leans back on his elbows, “Daniel”
The click of the safety goes off.
Max gulps.
Daniel is in jeans and nothing else. His chest is badly bruised (broken ribs?) and he’s sporting a black eye. He holds the gun in his left hand while the right stays at his side, his trigger and middle finger bandaged together.
With his injuries Max expects his hand to shake, it remains steady.
“Did Zak send you?” Daniel asks.
“No one sent me. I came looking for you.”
“Bullshit”
Max tries to get up, but Daniel fires a shot in the space between his legs.
“What the fuck” he scoots back till he hits the wall, “Do you know whose hotel this is? You can’t shoot me!”
Daniel scoffs, “I didn’t shoot you. I almost shot you, there’s a difference. And Toto knows I’m here, he won’t mind” he waves the gun around before sighing.
He tucks the gun into the waistband of his jeans and sits on the bed. He passes a hand through his hair and looks at the floor.
“What are you doing here Max?”
Max gets to his feet and walks over to the doorway where the envelope he was carrying fell. He picks it up and hands it to Daniel. He doesn’t take it so he rests it next to him on the bed.
“Sebastian has an offer for you. A way out… Revenge.”
Daniel takes the envelope, “Revenge? Last time I tried that they broke my jaw”
Max puts his hands in his pockets, “You won’t be the only one. Fernando went rogue, took Stroll with him. Even George left. He blew up HQ to show he was serious”
He looks at Max surprised. “Russell George…” he murmurs.
Max turns and watches Daniel through the mirror by the door. He watches as he opens the envelope and pulls the paper out halfway. He averts his eyes from the paper but he doesn’t miss the fond look Daniel gives as he reads the letter. Seb has always shown his love for Daniel in his own way.
Daniel puts the letter back and closes the envelope.
“So, what do you want revenge for?”
Max blinks, “Pardon?”
Daniel gets up and stands just behind him.
“I know why I want revenge, and I'm assuming everyone is either getting out or wants revenge. Which one is on your to-do list?”
Max turns and faces him, “You know what they say about assuming,”
Daniel hums and turns to get a shirt from his duffel on the floor. He groans as he stoops and Max wills himself to stay put.
He pulls out a blue party shirt with pineapples and struggles to put it on.
Max can’t take it anymore so he helps him get it over his head. Focusing his eyes on anywhere but Daniels exposed body. When he’s done they’re standing eye to eye and he tries to convince himself that Daniel did not just look at his lips.
Max breaks the silence, “You getting your revenge is enough for me.”
They stand there before Daniel blinks like he remembers something.
“How long ago did George blow up HQ?”
“Yesterday?”
“You think since he you know…that Toto…” he trails off and looks around the hotel room.
“Might try and kill you? Yes” Max finishes.
“We should leave”
“Yes”
They move around the room like a well oiled machine. Max gathering anything belonging to Daniel and shoving it into his suitcase, and Daniel taking note of his various IDs in his duffel.
They leave the room in a hurry, and Daniel is still shoving his feet into sneakers when they reach the stairwell.
They reach downstairs to the car park and Daniel whistles when he sees Maxs car.
Max rolls his eyes and shoves the suitcase onto the backseat with his own.
When he gets in, Daniel is running his hands on every surface.
“It’s just car Daniel”
“A very nice car. Stolen?”
“Rental” he starts it and revs it just to see Daniels reaction.
Daniel laughs and leans back. Max peels out of there with a drift.
A few minutes into the ride, Daniel takes the gun from his pants and tosses it into Maxs lap.
Max tries not to swerve, “It could have gone off!” he curses in Dutch.
“Safety was on”
Max takes the gun and puts it in between them next to the gear stick.
He takes the next left to the airport and Daniel freezes.
“I can’t exactly get on a plane right now. I have people looking for me”
Max rolls his eyes, “Everyone’s looking for you,”
Daniel tenses, “I mean more recently. They’re kind of upset that I stole from them. I can’t fly commercial”
“We’re not” Max says simply.
Daniel goes for the gun and points it at him. Max isn’t fazed.
“We’re flying private”
—-
“Since when did you get a jet?” Daniel watches in shock and awe as they pull up to the aircraft.
“It wasn’t my idea.” They both watch as the door opens and someone comes down the steps.
Max barely has time to put the vehicle into park before Daniel opens the door and steps out.
“Charlie?!”
Charles turns his head, “Daniel!”
They run and hug each other while Max rolls his eyes for what feels like the twentieth time today.
“Where have you been? Last I heard you were in Canada doing wet-work with Scotty”
“That was a year ago”
Charles sighs, “It’s been hard to keep in touch with you,”
Daniel feels guilty, and it must show because then Charles pats him on the back and shoves him up the stairs of the plane.
Max follows carrying two suitcases and a duffel bag.
—
They get settled and Daniel drinks two glasses of champagne.
Charles comes back from speaking with the captain and sits across from him and Max.
“I’m sure you have questions-“
Daniel cuts him off,
“Just one for now,” he taps the window, “where are we going?”
“London” Max answers easily.
“London? What’s in London?”
——
Not beta read
What’s in London? We may never know.
it’s Lewis. He’s in London and he brings them to a base, explanations happen, flashbacks. We find out- [gunshot]
I’ll stop
#maxiel#maxiel au#I really want to finish this#give me like 2 weeks to 5 years to do so lmao#this is me being awkward 😭#so sorry
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I’ve decided that from here forward I’m writing Tommy and Buck/Evan as long term canon. In the words of Buck himself “Who cares?!”
I get the feeling that Tommy is difficult to get really angry. Mostly based on his past. And his general roll with the punches attitude thus far. So I don’t foresee a lot of strife or fighting in his future with Buck. Except the first time Tommy experiences the after of that big marshmallow Evan Buckley doing something really dangerous and reckless..again.
And Tommy who never gets angry, who never shouts at Buck, who flew a helicopter into a goddamn hurricane in the middle of the ocean, really loses his shit this time because Buck cannot understand why Tommy is so upset that he dropped into a dangerous situation against orders AGAIN.
Tommy pinches the bridge of his nose to keep from shouting “Bobby told you not to go in. He told you not to risk it. That the floors were too unstable”
“There could have been someone left” Buck replies “Someone needed to check. It had to be me”
“Why? Because you’re fucking super human? The great Buck Buckley from the 118 who scoffs at danger, has survived a tsunami, getting trapped beneath a fire truck, throwing a blood clot, and was officially dead for three minutes after getting struck by FUCKING LIGHTNING!”
“How do you know about all of that?”
“That isn’t what matters”
“I think it is” Buck takes a step toward Tommy “Have you been stalking me babe?”
Noticing the mischievous smile Tommy shakes his head “Oh no no no. You are not going to adorable your way out of this”
Bucks shoulders sag and he sighs “I’m ok Tommy. Not even a scratch”
“I can see that” Tommy lets out a deep exhale “I understand the risks of the job. I’m not like your exes who would get all distraught over you removing a cat from a tree. But for fucks sake, you are worse than the EOD guys when I was in Afghanistan with the walking - or in your case running or jumping- right into the worst case scenario with no thought of your own safety” Rubbing his forehead he continues “Evan. You’ve got a savior complex and it’s noble and selfless..”
Buck cuts him off “It’s not a savior complex. I’m not stupid. I understand that sometimes no matter what you do you can’t save them. But sometimes maybe you can, and in those cases, I just make the most sense”
Tommy crosses his arms to keep from strangling him or kissing him stupid again to shut him up “How is that? How does you possibly dying make any sense?”
“They all have people that need them. They all have someone they belong to and..” he trails off with a small shrug
And Tommy hears the words he doesn’t say. He is…expendable. And just like that all of the anger drains out of Tommy to be replaced by a something else. “Evan” he says softly.
“I know” Buck interjects “I know that people love me and they would be sad, especially Maddie. And I don’t want to die. But I don’t want someone who has someone they need, and that needs them, to die either. I couldn’t live with that”
Tommy closes his eyes. This man..How can he be so adorable and selfless, yet so completely stubborn and a pain in the ass about his own safety?
Once he calms his thoughts and finds the words he wants to say, he opens his eyes to see Evan looking at him calmly. Like he expects Tommy to see the sense in what he said.
“Evan. I know we haven’t really put a label on this. On us. But that’s because I don’t want to pressure you. I’m the first man you’ve been with and you’re still figuring out who you are, and I understand that. But let me clarify something for you. I need you to come back to me. Ok?”
Buck blinks “Huh”
“I need you to come back to me” he repeats “Like Bobby needs Athena, and Karen needs Hen, and yes like Maddie needs Chimney.
“And Jee-un. Jee-yun needs her dad”
“Yes, and in that same vein, Christopher needs Eddie” he agrees, trying not to give in to his exasperation. “I need you. I am that person who needs you to come home Evan”
Evan stops whatever he was about to say. Startled awareness creeping into his eyes..Tommy sees a mix of emotions flit across his face. Surprise, joy, fear, everything just races across that expressive face and then Evan sinks onto the barstool at his kitchen island. His hands coming up to cover his face.
Tommy’s stomach clench’s. He pushed too hard, too soon “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I do care and want you to come home but..”
Buck looks up at him “Don’t you dare take that back”
“I’m not taking it back. I just don’t want to push you”
Something else crosses Evans face at that..but he tugged at his bottom lip with his teeth. “You aren’t pushing. You aren’t pressuring me. I am in this just as much as you. I just don’t know how to say what I want to say without it sounding lame and emo as shit”
“Did you just hear me? You can say anything to me Evan. Whatever it is”
Buck rolls his bottom lip between his teeth again. “I’ve never questioned why I do this…I mean it’s the whole reason I was born. To save my brother. To save Daniel. That’s what I do, that’s who I am. It’s why I became a firefighter. To be the one who saves people. The 118 is my family. And I would do anything to protect them from harm”
“I’m not asking you to stop. I would never ask that. I just want to remind you that you matter to a lot of people, and you also have someone who is waiting for you”
Bucks voice is thick “I know that. I get that. But…Nobody has ever. I have never belonged to anyone, like that”
In a sense of deja vu Tommy closes the short distance to Buck. Tipping his face up, he kisses him. Not soft and gentle like their first kiss in this kitchen. But bold and deep. Branding Evan with his mouth. Pulling back he says fiercely “You belong to me like that. For as long as you want..you belong to me and I belong to you, like that”
“I will ALWAYS need you to come back to me Evan”
#yes I called him both Evan and Buck#it makes situational sense in my head canon#yes this idea was part of my 3k word barf#but I’m breaking it up into bits#911 abc#evan buckley#tommy kinard#buck x tommy#evan x tommy#911 spoilers#bucktommy#kinley#this ship will be canon goddamn it#wrote this on my phone
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some random/silly headcanons for Fox!!
highly experienced knife fighter, and knows basic hand-to-hand combat with or without a karambit, don’t let his height and age fool you, years of using his wits and his strengths to his benefit have gotten him not only far in life but many many, many, victims nowadays he doesn't even need to do all the hard work, he can just point at whoever he wants to brutalize on his next stream and they're there, but his skills are no laughing matter, many have tried to fight back taking his height and age as a means to overpower him and while in very rare cases strength has won over skill (which is why he uses guards now) it usually ends with the victim being clawed out or unconscious by the end of it
locked away, in an old safe somewhere, ren still keeps strades old button up he just can't..let it go, no matter how hard he tries he hates the man, what he's done to him, the lies he fooled Ren into the belief that his torture was to become deeper, to have a bond no other could have, Ren knows to know it was just strades own selfish desires and its those desires that got him killed, he knows better to admire the man, but..even now, when he’ll sit in his penthouse and wonder, what could've been, he thinks if Strade would be proud of him, if he could see him now.
the reason he hasn't been streaming much as of late anymore is well, he's getting older. Don't get him wrong, he loves the thrill of it all! excitedly asking his chat and bidders questions to the highest seller like a twisted game of family feud, the blood rush he gets when he saws off the leg of a victim, or slices their throat all for the eyes of his viewers to see, he loves the thrill, the hunt, but sometimes, as much as he plans his schedules, and outfits, and ideas of torture, most days, he wants to enjoy the quiet, the sound of his favorite anime playing slowly while sipping coffee, the fun of taking a vacation simply because he can and he feels like it, he knows it's stale and boring but he likes it, and hopes eventually he can take some well deserved time for himself
always on time and on schedule with anything, and everything meetings, streams, handling his guards around, food, and doesn't like changing his schedule (he's a busy man) he doesn't like when he's late to something at all, or when someone else is, and will get irritated if someone or something, gets in the way of that, whether it be as simple as a scheduled limo being late, or a meeting that was postponed
even at the ripe old age of 47 (which he still denies being old) he still has amazing hygiene and grooming routines, but now he has the luxury of a hell of a lot more money than he did when he was younger, so his tail and hair is on a whole other level of soft, even when he isn't trying to, he's been told by not only his associates but his closer allies that being his guards that he always smells nice, never a smelly day for the fox, unless he gets too excited with a stream or two that is, then maybe with all the blood, and bile that gets spilled on him, he may not smell the best,
if he likes you, and keeps you to himself, he’ll spoil you rotten, whatever it is you want or desire he will make sure it's handled and given with care and affection, of course, some nights he may ask you to dress up for him, or maybe he’d bring his knife to the equation in sex or foreplay (he loves the way you bleed) but he's always sweet and comforting about it, sure you may see him be stressed due to a scheduling error, or his chat not being as active as they were a day before, but he always has a soft spot for you, even if he's angry.
loves rambling about his favorite anime to you and his affection towards the style of art as a whole, he loves just being able to be silly, watch his eyes light up as he talks about the newest episode of his anime and how he can't believe that character betrayed who and how much he loves this character, he's a weeb at heart, even now, and he accepts it, and is very passionate about it
has contemplated starting a separate gaming stream before, but knows that his type of content wouldnt work since it would be hard for a viewer to sped 1,000 dolars to see him gouge someone's eye out and then 2 minutes later that same viewer seeing Fox play genshin Impact, though he wishes he could just do it once in and while alas, he usually plays his games when off streams usually, but will occasionally forget to close them and it'll be left it on in the background while he does his snuff streams, the sound of peaceful anime tunes playing just subtly in the background for any eagle-eyed viewer of his streams to notice
since his job constantly has him being extroverted and charismatic to keep viewers and bidders entertained, when he's not working he is actually pretty quiet most times, of course, he’ll laugh and smile, and be joyful, he just naturally is, but there's definitely a noticeable switch in his personality when the cameras are on and when they're off, he just seems quieter, more likely to hum in response pleasantly to someone rather than give them a barking laugh with a smile, not that he's sad, he's just ‘recharging his social battery’ as he likes to put it
has an extremely keen scent and can recognize almost everyone he knows from their scent alone so if he's ever blindfolded (he could be for any number of reasons) his senses heighten even more and he can smell things perfectly and stronger, and when eating something really good that being his favorite raw meats or culinary dishes, his eyes will pinpoint and glow in excitement from the flavors and texture he can't help it when he does, and he’ll tend to make more animalistic growling feral sounds when he's eating something he REALLY LIKES whether that be chicken hearts, or your actual heart <3
#im very normal about ren guys#hope you all like it tho#Fox in general is just my favorite#anygay#hope you liked reading it as much as i liked writing it#snvffsoda#<3#btd ren#btd2 headcannons#tpof headcanons#tpof fox#ren hana#btd headcanons#btd2 ren#ykmet ren#the price of flesh
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