#(hm. even though I wrote this myself...) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mononijikayu · 9 months ago

Text

triassic love song — gojo satoru.

“They were together until the very end.” you said softly, your voice carried by the gentle wind. “I hope they’re still together, wherever they are.” The tall man took a deep breath, turning his head to look at you. For a moment, his blue gaze seemed distant, as though he were seeing something—or someone—far beyond the present. But then his lips curled into a small, sad smile. “They will be, you know?” he replied quietly, his voice deep and filled with a quiet conviction. “Some loves are strong enough to last forever. They…they transcend, even time.”

GENRE: alternate universe - reincarnation au!;

WARNING/S: edo japan era, nsfw, angst, fluff, romance, hurt/comfort, engagement, hurt, physical touch, implied character death(s), natural disaster(s), mourning, pain, grief, happy ending, depiction of natural disaster(s), depiction of suffering, depiction of character death(s), depiction of violent destruction, depiction of grief, depiction of suffering, mention of implied character death(s), mention of death(s), mention of suffering, mention of destruction, mention of earthquake-related destruction, fiance! gojo, fiance! reader, reincarnated! gojo, reincarnated! reader;

WORD COUNT: 8.6k words

NOTE: this song has ruined me beyond understanding. paris paloma, your album was just insane like im sorry. the fact that she wrote a song about the triassic cuddle inspired me to write something similar and i just??? i can't help myself. ive been so crazy about this song that i just decided, you know what. this is great. this is just something i would in fact like to bawl my eyes out writing. and i did. i did that. and i hope you cry with me and enjoy it. anyway, i love you all so much <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

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IT WAS ENJOYABLE TO BE TOGETHER. IIt was forbidden to be together at this time, with the curfew in place, but you couldn’t help yourself. Not when it came to him. The world outside was still, bound by rules meant to keep order, but within the quiet sanctuary of your family estate, the constraints of the outside world seemed distant and unimportant. Inside, warmth and anticipation filled the air, thick as the lingering scent of incense that wafted through the halls. The soft glow of lanterns bathed the room in a warm light, casting shadows across the delicate shoji screens, and reflecting off the polished wooden beams and traditional tatami mats beneath you.

Gojo Satoru sat beside you, his presence magnetic as always, but tonight, something was different. His signature smirk still played at the corners of his lips, and his bright, sparkling eyes glimmered with mischief. But beneath that playfulness was an undeniable depth, a new layer of emotion that wasn’t there before—an unspoken excitement, a shared understanding that you were no longer just childhood friends.

You were now betrothed.

Bound by the ties of engagement that your noble families had arranged, it felt as though a long-awaited dream had finally come true. And though you had known each other all your lives, this new bond between you carried a weight of its own, something that made your heart race in a way you hadn’t expected. The happiness you felt was undeniable, shared in the way Satoru’s hand occasionally brushed against yours, in the subtle glances that said everything words couldn’t.

“You’re quieter than usual, don't you think?" Satoru remarked with a teasing lilt, his voice soft but carrying an undercurrent of something more serious. He leaned in slightly, his gaze locking onto yours, as if daring you to speak first.

You smiled, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks under his intense scrutiny. “I could say the same about you, hm?” you replied, trying to match his teasing tone, though your voice betrayed the flurry of emotions swirling within you.

Satoru chuckled softly, leaning back on his hands, eyes never leaving yours. “Well, it’s not every day you get engaged to your best friend!” he said, his tone light, but his expression softened as his usual bravado gave way to sincerity.

That sincerity took your breath away, and for a moment, the reality of the moment hit you fully. You weren’t just sneaking out to spend time with him as you had countless times before. This was different. This was a promise, one sealed by the love you’d always shared but never fully acknowledged until now.

“I’ve been waiting for this, you know?” you admitted quietly, your eyes meeting his. “For us to be more than just... childhood friends.”

Satoru’s playful demeanor softened even more, a rare seriousness taking over his expression as he reached out to take your hand in his. His fingers were warm, and the simple gesture sent a shiver down your spine.

“Me too.” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “For a long time.”

For a few moments, neither of you spoke. The world outside was still and silent, but inside this room, the air seemed alive with the energy between you. The gravity of the situation settled in—this wasn’t just a fleeting moment. It was the beginning of something much bigger, something that both excited and terrified you.

“You always did like breaking the rules.” you teased lightly, trying to ease the tension, though your heart pounded in your chest. “Staying out past curfew, sneaking into my room like this...”

Satoru grinned, his usual confidence returning. “I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t, right?” he quipped, though the softness in his gaze lingered. “Besides, how could I stay away from you tonight? Our first night as an engaged couple... I had to be here.”

You laughed, but it was a soft, breathless sound, the kind that came when words failed to fully capture the emotions coursing through you. “I’m glad you’re here, Satoru.” you whispered.

He smiled, that warm, heart-melting smile that was reserved just for you, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else in the world mattered. Not the rules, not the expectations placed on you by your families, not even the looming responsibilities of your engagement. It was just you and him, sharing a quiet, intimate moment that you knew you would cherish forever.

“I brought something for you.” Satoru said after a brief pause, reaching into his sleeve and pulling out a small bundle of paper. “I wrote these for you.”

You blinked in surprise, watching as he carefully unfolded the papers. “Poems?”

He nodded, the tiniest hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks, something you rarely saw from him. “Yeah, don’t laugh!” he added quickly, though the look in his eyes told you he trusted you completely. “I’ve been working on them for a while...”

You took the papers from him, your fingers brushing his as you did. The sheets were neatly folded, each one carefully written in his distinct handwriting. It touched you deeply to know that he had taken the time to craft these for you, that he had poured his heart into something so personal. Something for you, with all his love.

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I could never laugh, my dearest.” you said softly, your voice sincere. “Thank you, Satoru.”

"I made these for you, my beloved." he whispered, pulling out one of the carefully folded parchment from your grasp and unfolded it. "Listen to me, alright?"

His slender fingers traced the delicate paper before he began to read softly, his voice like a gentle breeze:

"Beneath the cherry bloom, I wait

for you, a light that never fades.

In silence, your name takes root in my soul—

a promise written long before time."

His tender words wove into your heart, each syllable filled with the love he had always held for you, now finally given shape. You leaned against him, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours, comforted by the sound of his heartbeat that matched your own excitement. The future felt certain, and the night was perfect. You kept listening to his voice, letting it guide you into the tender slumber of the night.

Satoru leaned closer to you, watching your expression, his bright blue eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and affection. Your orbs gazed at the tender strokes of his writing.

His calligraphy had always been so beautiful, but to form such words in order to capture not just the feelings he had for you, it was even more beautiful. And to have him read it with such affection, such love — for you and only you…..what could be more beautiful? What could be more perfect, more delightful?

But then, the ground beneath you shifted, a low rumble reverberating through the tatami mats. At first, it was subtle, almost imperceptible, but within seconds, the shaking intensified. It was subtle at first, a low rumble that made the lanterns flicker.

Satoru paused, his brow furrowing. Before you could ask, the ground shook violently, and the delicate house groaned under the pressure. Screams erupted from other rooms, echoing through the halls as the tremor grew stronger.

"Satoru?" you whispered, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest, not from love, but from fear.

He was already moving, his hand gripping yours tightly. “Stay with me, my beloved.” he commanded, his voice steady, though his eyes flashed with a seriousness you had never seen before. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The room shuddered violently as the earthquake hit full force, and you could hear the distant crashing of objects falling in other parts of the house. Screams erupted outside even louder—voices of your family, the servants, all caught in the chaos of the sudden disaster. And then all the sudden, it was eerily quiet. And that made your heart drop to your stomach

For a moment, you thought that it would finally be over. But then, the earth beneath you trembled once more. You squealed as Satoru let his body encompass your own with the enveloping of his whole body on yours as the world crashed against you both. The walls were swaying left and right, the roof tiles were shattering one after another. It was chaos.

"Hold on to me. Don’t lift your eyes." he said, his voice calm but firm, even as the world quaked around you. “I’ll protect you.”

You clung to him, your heart pounding in fear as the floor shifted beneath your feet. His grip was unyielding, pulling you closer until there was no space between your bodies, shielding you from falling debris as the shaking intensified.

“I’ve got you, my beloved.” he murmured into your hair, his voice steady despite the chaos around you. “D–don’t worry.”

You feared when he stuttered, that he had gotten hurt. But he did not falter. His fingers gently stroked your back, trying to calm your trembling as the earthquake raged on. You could hear the distant crashing of porcelain and wood, your ears ringing from the harsh sounds of the destruction. But in his arms, you felt an odd sense of safety amidst the destruction. Because it was your Satoru holding you, protecting you. Because you’re together.

As the tremors finally subsided, Satoru’s grip on you loosened slightly, but he didn’t let go. His breath was shaky, and when you looked up at him, you saw a rare flicker of fear in his usually carefree eyes. He swallowed hard before giving you a small, reassuring smile. You were still stunned, your head shaking as you tried to make sense of the world.

"Seems like the earth itself wanted to remind us of its power." he joked softly, though the tension in his voice betrayed him. He was just as afraid, perhaps even pained by some injury he would never show you. “We’re….we’re alright, my beloved. Don’t worry.”

You let out a breathless laugh, still clutching his robes as you pressed your forehead against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. The night was no longer perfect, but in that moment, with Satoru holding you close, it felt like nothing could tear the two of you apart—not even the earth itself.

The earth, which had momentarily stilled, seemed to shift again beneath you, this time more violently.More catastrophic, more angry and volatile. You screamed as you held tightly to him, his body wrapping itself against you once more. The walls of your room groaned, beams creaking as the tremors returned with a vengeance, fiercer than before. The floor shook so hard you could barely keep your balance, even in Satoru's arms.

He pulled you even tighter against him, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “Stay with me. Don’t let go.”

You could feel his muscles tensing beneath his robes, his usually easy going demeanor replaced by something more protective, almost desperate as his entire body forced itself to become a shield against anything against you. What remained standing of your ancestral home rattled more easily around you, dust falling from the ceiling in thick clouds. Outside, the screams grew louder, more frantic as the destruction worsened. Perhaps, it wasn’t even your family any longer. Perhaps it was the town, perhaps it was a neighboring village. You do not know anymore. And that’s what frightened you even more.

You could hear the unmistakable crash of something heavy—perhaps a roof beam—collapsing nearby. Suddenly, a deafening crack split the air. The wide, elaborate shoji doors rattled on their frames before they were blown open by the force of the quake. Your own room felt like it was being torn apart piece by piece. One of the wooden beams above groaned under the strain and, without warning, splintered and fell, hurtling toward the two of you.

Your beloved Gojo Satoru reacted in an instant, pushing you down and covering you with his body just as the beam crashed into the floor where you’d been trying to stand. The air was thick with dust, and the scent of earth and shattered wood filled your lungs, choking you. You shook as your eyes slowly opened to see your fiance pinning you down with his body shielding you.

“Satoru!” you gasped, your hands gripping the front of his robe, desperate to make sure he was unharmed.

“I’m fine, my beloved.” he muttered, though you could hear the strain in his voice. His arm was still braced above you, shielding you from any further debris. His other hand cupped the back of your head, pressing you into the crook of his neck. “We need to move. The house isn’t going to hold.”

You nodded against him, heart pounding in terror. Everything felt surreal, like a nightmare you couldn’t wake from. The childhood home that had always felt so safe, so untouchable, was crumbling around you, and the only solid thing left was Satoru. He was all you had, you think. Everything…Everything was gone. Your body was shaking.

He pulled you to your feet, guiding you toward the door, but just as you reached it, another powerful tremor sent the ground pitching beneath you. You fell forward, and Satoru caught you, his arms wrapping around your waist, holding you close as the floor buckled and cracked beneath your feet. You could feel the splintering wood beneath your sandals, the whole structure of the house breaking apart beneath the relentless force of the earthquake.

“Satoru, we need to get out—” you started, but your voice was drowned out by the sound of another beam collapsing behind you, followed by a sickening crash from outside the room.

“I know, I know.” he said, his voice tight with focus as he scanned the surroundings. "We’ll find a way out. I promise."

He led you toward the door again, but just as you stepped forward, the entire room seemed to tilt. The floor caved in with a horrific crack, and suddenly, you were falling. Satoru’s grip tightened as you both plummeted into darkness, the floorboards and debris collapsing into the space below.

“Are you hurt?” Satoru’s voice cut through the chaos, his hand cupping your face gently as he pulled you close, checking for injuries in the dim light. His fingers trembled slightly, betraying the fear he usually kept hidden so well.

“I’m okay,” you gasped, though your body felt battered and sore.

He exhaled in relief, his forehead pressing against yours for a moment, his breath shaky. “We need to get out of here. Stay close to me.”

Even now, with the world collapsing around you, his determination didn’t waver. He pulled you to your feet once more, and together, you began to make your way through the rubble. The house was a maze of fallen beams, shattered walls, and debris, the once-beautiful estate reduced to ruins in a matter of minutes.

The aftershocks still rumbled beneath your feet, making every step treacherous, but Satoru kept you steady, his arm around your waist, guiding you through the wreckage. The air was thick with dust, and the distant screams of those outside continued, filling you with dread for what might await you once you escaped.

As you neared what used to be the outer courtyard, the quake hit again, this time more violent than any before. The very ground seemed to split open beneath you, and with a loud, earth-shattering roar, the outer wall of the estate gave way. You barely had time to scream before the floor cracked beneath your feet, and you fell into darkness once more.

This time, Satoru’s grip on you tightened, and you felt his body pull you against him, sheltering you as the ground gave way entirely. You hit the ground hard, the pain radiating through your body, but before you could react, you felt the warmth of Satoru’s arms around you, shielding you from the worst of it.

“Don’t leave me.” he whispered, his voice trembling as he held you tighter than ever. “I won’t let anything take you from me—not this, not anything.”

In that moment, as the world continued to crumble around you, his words were the only thing that kept you grounded. No matter what happened next, as long as you were with him, there was still hope. You clung to him, your fingers digging into the fabric of his robes, as the tremors finally began to subside, leaving the two of you alone in the wreckage, but together.

You landed hard, the wind knocked out of you as your back hit the ground. The tatami beneath you was torn, and debris scattered everywhere, yet Satoru still held onto you, his arms wrapped tightly around your body, as though his grip alone could shield you from the crumbling world. The force of his embrace had absorbed much of the fall, but the impact still left you breathless. For a moment, everything was a blur—dust and darkness clouded your vision, and the deafening roar of collapsing beams filled the air.

Your body throbbed with pain, and panic surged in your chest, but even through the chaos, the warmth of Satoru’s body against yours anchored you. His presence, solid and unyielding, kept you grounded in the midst of the chaos.

"Satoru..." you gasped, your voice barely audible, but he heard you.

“I’m here,” he whispered fiercely, his voice steady despite the tremors still shaking the earth beneath you. His breath was ragged, but his grip on you didn’t falter. His white hair, now disheveled and covered in dust, clung to his forehead, but his eyes—those impossibly blue eyes—remained focused on you. “Are you hurt?”

You tried to shake your head, but your mind was still reeling, struggling to catch up with what had just happened. The earthquake raged on, though the initial violence of it had passed. The ground trembled beneath you like a sleeping beast disturbed from its rest.

Satoru shifted, pulling you up as carefully as he could. The house around you was nearly unrecognizable—wooden beams had collapsed, shoji screens were shredded, and parts of the roof had caved in. The once peaceful and warm room where you had shared your engagement was now in ruins, littered with broken objects and torn memories.

The sound of screams echoed from outside, faint but piercing. Servants. Family. It was hard to tell who, but the urgency in their voices cut through the haze of shock that clouded your mind. Your breath caught in your throat, panic gripping you once more.

“My family... my parents.” you muttered, scrambling to get up, but Satoru stopped you, his hand on your shoulder, firm yet gentle. “Satoru—”

"Wait," he said softly, though his voice carried the weight of authority. "We need to get out of here first. It’s not safe."

He tried to keep you calm, his steady hands guiding you through the debris, but you could see the tension in his posture. He was on high alert, his senses sharp as he glanced at every unstable beam, every shifting pile of rubble. He was scanning for danger, but more than that, he was trying to protect you from seeing the worst of it—the destruction, the death.

But as you stumbled through the wreckage of what had once been your home, you couldn’t avoid the horrors that surrounded you. Bodies. Littered through the halls, some crushed beneath fallen beams, others lying still in the open. Your breath hitched, and for a moment, the world spun around you.

"Satoru..." you whispered, your voice trembling as you pulled away from his protective hold. "Where are they? My parents... my siblings?"

He didn’t answer immediately, his eyes darting around, trying to keep you moving forward, away from the bodies, away from the worst of it. But you knew. The silence was louder than any scream. You could feel tears fall from your face and that broke his heart to see.

"Satoru!" you cried, your voice breaking as your legs buckled beneath you. "Where are they?"

He knelt beside you, his hands cupping your face as he gently forced you to look at him. His bright blue eyes were filled with an overwhelming sadness, but he tried to hide it, to be strong for you. He had to be strong. He had to. He can’t be weak, not right now.

“I don’t know,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But we have to go. We need to find shelter. I’ll take you to my family home. They’ll know what to do.”

You nodded, though the words didn’t fully sink in. Your body was moving on autopilot now, your mind numb to the world as Satoru pulled you back to your feet. With every step, the destruction around you became more apparent, more real. The walls were crumbling, the air thick with dust and smoke, and the scent of burning wood filled your nostrils.

Together, you navigated the ruins of your estate, stepping over debris and through the remains of lives that had been lost in the quake. GojoSatoru kept a firm grip on your hand, leading you with a determination that seemed almost impossible given the circumstances.

But even he couldn’t hide the way his shoulders tensed, the way his jaw clenched when another body appeared in your path, forcing him to shield you from the sight.

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IT WAS A CHALLENGE, TO GO AND LEAVE THE DESTRUCTION BEHIND. The sky deepened into a somber shade of dusk as you and Satoru finally reached the estate’s edge. The once proud gates, symbols of security and honor, now stood twisted and mangled, crumpled by the sheer force of nature’s wrath.

Beyond the gates, the town stretched out in a nightmare of ruin—buildings reduced to heaps of rubble, streets fractured and littered with debris, and the air thick with the lingering scent of smoke and dust. The cries of the wounded and the wails of those searching for lost loved ones echoed through the broken streets, a chorus of despair that filled the silence left in the wake of destruction.

“Keep your head high,” Satoru urged, his voice low but firm as he tightened his grip on your hand. “Don’t look. Just… don’t.”

But it was impossible not to look. How could you not see the devastation, shared by all? Every corner of the town had been touched by this catastrophe, and every person who remained alive carried the weight of loss. It was a destruction understood by all, but none more deeply than you at that moment.

The memory of your home—once filled with laughter, warmth, and the presence of family—now lay in ruins. Your parents, your siblings… their fates were unknown, swallowed by the chaos. You hadn’t seen them, and the hope of finding them alive was growing fainter with every passing moment. Satoru’s words rang hollow in your ears, even as you clung to his hand for strength.

He guided you through the crumbling streets with a fierce determination, always positioning himself between you and the worst of the wreckage. The buildings, once grand and vibrant, had become tombs of stone and wood, each step revealing more of the town’s shattered soul. Bodies lay strewn across the ground, some half-buried in rubble, others left untouched by the debris but claimed by the quake nonetheless. It was too much, too overwhelming.

Every time you stumbled, your legs trembling with fatigue and grief, Satoru was there, catching you before you could fall. His presence was like an anchor, keeping you steady amid the storm of devastation that swirled around you. His hand never left yours, his touch a silent promise that you weren’t alone in this. You didn’t have to face it all by yourself.

The survivors—those who had managed to escape the collapse of buildings or who had emerged from the wreckage—followed behind you, a somber procession of hollow eyes and ashen faces. Their steps were slow, heavy with the weight of shock. No words passed between them, no cries for help—only silence and the occasional sob as they moved like ghosts through the streets, trying to find some semblance of safety, of life, in this broken world.

Your heart ached for them, for their pain, but your own grief consumed you. The memory of your family’s voices, the warmth of your home, felt so distant now, like a dream you had just woken from. And yet, with each step you took beside Satoru, you realized that this nightmare was real, and there was no waking from it.

The earth beneath your feet still trembled occasionally, aftershocks reminding you that the worst might not yet be over. Each tremor sent a fresh wave of fear through your body, your grip tightening around Satoru’s hand. He responded in kind, his hand strong and reassuring, though you could sense the turmoil roiling beneath his calm exterior. His family, too, was somewhere in this mess. Their fate hung in the balance just as much as yours.

As you made your way through the gates, leaving behind the wreckage of your estate, you couldn’t help but glance back one final time. The place where you had grown up, where you had shared laughter, joy, and the news of your engagement just hours ago, was now unrecognizable. In the span of mere moments, everything you had known had been reduced to rubble, leaving behind only echoes of the life you had once cherished.

“Satoru…” your voice cracked as you spoke his name, the words barely audible over the distant cries. He stopped, turning to look at you, his eyes softening with concern.

“I know,” he whispered, his hand brushing against your cheek, wiping away the tears that had begun to fall unnoticed. “I know it’s hard. But we’ll make it through this. We have to.”

His resolve was unshakable, but you could see the grief hidden behind his determination. He was trying to be strong, not just for himself, but for you. His family’s estate lay ahead, yet you both feared what you would find when you arrived.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the land in shadow, you continued onward, the fire of Satoru’s presence the only thing keeping you from sinking into despair. The path was treacherous, littered with fallen beams and shattered stone, but Satoru led the way with careful, deliberate steps. He kept you close, his arm around your waist now, guiding you over the broken streets as you navigated what felt like the remains of the world.

Every glance revealed more heartache—broken homes, toppled lanterns, and the pale, lifeless faces of those who hadn’t made it. But Satoru never let you linger, gently urging you forward each time your gaze began to drift toward the horror around you.

Finally, you reached his family’s estate. Or what remained of it. The grand structure that had once stood proud and formidable was now a heap of collapsed roofs and shattered walls. The once beautiful garden, where you had shared many moments of happiness, was now a twisted, chaotic mess of uprooted trees and scorched earth.

Satoru stood still for a moment, his eyes scanning the destruction with a silent, composed fury. The pain was etched into his expression, though he quickly masked it as he turned to you, his voice low but firm.

"We’ll make it through tonight," he said. "We have to survive, no matter what."

In that moment, even as the world crumbled around you, there was no fear in his eyes—only determination. For now, all you could do was follow him. Follow him through the darkness, trusting that somewhere, beyond the destruction, hope still lingered.

As you finally reached the outskirts of the Gojo estate, the enormity of the destruction hit you again. The town below had not been spared either. Smoke rose in the distance, and the ground was littered with rubble, buildings half-collapsed, and people wandering aimlessly, searching for loved ones.

Satoru didn’t hesitate. He pulled you forward, his grip never loosening as he led you through the streets toward his family’s home. But when you arrived, the sight that greeted you was even more devastating.

His family estate, much like your own, had been reduced to little more than a broken shell. The grand gates had collapsed, and the once beautiful gardens were torn apart, now little more than mounds of earth and stone. The house itself had fared no better, with parts of the roof caved in and walls shattered.

Satoru’s face paled as he took it all in, his hand tightening around yours in a desperate attempt to remain calm. But you could see it in his eyes—the grief, the disbelief. This was his home. His family. And now, it is gone.

For a long moment, he stood still, his gaze fixed on the destruction before him. His breathing was shallow, his grip on your hand tightening almost painfully. But then, with a sharp breath, he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

As you both began your journey toward the Gojo family estate, the weight of the day settled heavily on your shoulders. But Satoru’s hand never let go of yours, a silent promise that even in the face of unimaginable loss, you would survive this—together.

When you and Satoru finally reached the outskirts of his family estate, the sinking feeling in your chest returned with full force. What should have been a place of refuge, a sanctuary from the horrors you had just fled, was nothing but devastation. The Gojo estate, once majestic and proud, had fallen to the same fate as your home.

The gates were twisted and mangled, barely hanging from their hinges, and the walls that had once stood tall now lay in heaps of rubble. Smoke rose from what remained of the manor, a bitter scent of burning wood and stone hanging in the air. The destruction was so complete, so absolute, that it felt like the very earth had swallowed everything whole. The silence was deafening.

Gojo Satoru froze at the sight, his grip on your hand tightening until it almost hurt. You looked up at him, but his expression was unreadable, his usual brightness dulled to a vacant stare. His family, his home....everything he had known, everything he had grown up with. All was gone. Nothing was left but the earth where it all once stood.

You tried to say something, to offer words of comfort, but the lump in your throat made it impossible to speak. More tears could only pour out of your eyes from then on. All you could do was squeeze his hand, hoping he would feel your silent support. He didn't need to hear your words right now; he just needed to know you were there.

For a moment, he stood motionless, his blue eyes scanning the destruction as if trying to comprehend it, trying to find any sign of life among the wreckage. But there was nothing. Just like at your estate, the earthquake had consumed everything.

Finally, Satoru exhaled a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. But even in his grief, he didn’t break. He couldn’t—not with you depending on him. He glanced down at you, his eyes softening with a kind of sadness you had never seen in him before.

Satoru stopped for a moment, turning to you with a look of determination in his eyes. “We’ll make it through this,” he promised, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed the fear he was trying so hard to hide. “We’ll get some place safe here, and I’ll make sure nothing ever hurts you again. You hear me?”

You nodded, though the world felt unsteady beneath you. The future that once seemed so bright, the engagement that had filled your heart with hope, now felt overshadowed by the tragedy that had befallen your lives. Still, with Satoru’s hand wrapped securely around yours, you knew one thing for certain—no matter what came next, you wouldn’t face it alone.

“We need to stay warm tonight.” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not safe to wander around in the dark. We’ll make a fire here, and then tomorrow, we’ll figure out what to do.”

He led you to a relatively clear patch of ground, away from the worst of the rubble. The sky was darkening, and the air had grown cold, a biting wind cutting through your torn clothes. Satoru quickly set to work, gathering what dry wood he could find, his movements steady and focused despite the grief that must have been tearing him apart inside.

You watched him in silence, too exhausted to help, too numb from everything that had happened. When the fire finally sparked to life, its warmth was a welcome reprieve from the cold that had settled deep into your bones. You sat beside him, huddled close to the flickering flames, the only source of light in the endless night.

Your Satoru didn’t speak for a long time. He simply stared into the fire, his expression distant, lost in thoughts you couldn’t fathom. His hands, usually so relaxed and playful, were tense, gripping his knees as if he were holding himself together by sheer force of will.

But then he turned to you, his gaze softening when he saw the exhaustion written on your face. Without a word, he pulled his outer robe from his shoulders and wrapped it around you, tucking it gently against your chin. He tried to do it, smiling like nothing happened. As though to comfort you even in all this suffering. And yet, you could see it all in his eyes. He was exhausted, he was in pain. And he didn’t know what to do.

“Sleep, my beloved.” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “I’ll keep watch.”

You wanted to protest, to tell him that he needed rest just as much as you did, but your body betrayed you. The exhaustion, the grief, the sheer weight of everything you had been through—it was too much. You nodded weakly, laying your head against his shoulder as you curled into the warmth of the robe.

Satoru shifted slightly, easing you into a more comfortable position so you could lie down near the fire. His hand rested on your arm, a protective gesture that reminded you of his earlier promise. Even as the world fell apart around you, Satoru Gojo was still there, watching over you.

As you drifted off to sleep, lulled by the crackling of the fire and the steady rise and fall of his breathing, Satoru leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. His lips lingered there for a moment, as if he were afraid to pull away, afraid that something might take you from him if he let go.

“I’ll keep you safe, my beloved.” he whispered against your hair, his voice trembling with the weight of his vow. “No matter what happens. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

The fire flickered, casting shadows across his face, but his resolve was unshakable. He couldn’t save everything—his home, his family—but he would save you. That much, he was certain of.

As you slept, Gojo Satoru remained awake, his eyes scanning the horizon, alert for any sign of danger. The devastation around him was complete, but his focus never wavered from you. You were his world now, the one thing he had left in the midst of the ruin.

The night stretched on, cold and unforgiving, but Satoru didn’t move from his spot by your side. Even as the grief gnawed at him, even as the weight of everything he had lost threatened to crush him, he stayed strong. For you. Because no matter what came next, no matter how uncertain the future had become, Gojo Satoru had made a promise—and he would keep it.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

THE YEAR 2018 WAS AN INTERESTING YEAR FOR DISCOVERIES. You remember reading about it in the newspaper on your way to university—the discovery of two lovers found in an eternal embrace, huddled together in a shoreline cave, their bodies preserved for three hundred years by the elements that had claimed their lives.

The volcanic eruption, the earthquake, and the tsunami that had ravaged Japan centuries ago were some of the worst disasters the country had ever known, obliterating entire villages and swallowing countless lives in an instant. And yet, even in the face of such unimaginable destruction, these two had remained together, their bond undisturbed by the passage of time.

Standing quietly in front of the memorial, you felt the weight of their story settle around you. The air was still and somber, carrying with it the distant hum of waves crashing along the shore. The stone monument before you was simple yet profound—a silent marker of the love these two souls had shared, a love that had endured in the most unimaginable of circumstances. Their bodies had been found in the ruins of a household long buried by the mud and debris, a household much like the ones surrounding this coastline, now reduced to scattered memories.

You had followed the story from the beginning—the day the archaeologists uncovered them from the earth, the painstaking care they took in revealing the remains. The headlines had drawn attention, not because of the tragedy alone, but because of the story those two bodies told.

There were no names. No clues as to who they had been, what their lives had looked like before the disaster struck, or even how they had ended up in each other’s arms when the end came. But it didn’t matter. Their identities weren’t needed to understand the significance of what had been found. What mattered was that they had faced their final moments without fear. They had faced the end together, with love.

It was that thought—the resilience of love in the face of overwhelming disaster—that had touched you most deeply. In a world where so much is fragile and fleeting, the strength of their connection had remained, even after centuries had passed. It was as if their love had transcended the destruction, as if they had chosen to defy the disaster by holding on to one another in their last breath.

You stepped forward, placing your hands together in silent prayer. You wished them peace, a kind of peace that transcended the tragedy of their death, that honored the love they had shared.

You prayed that their spirits had found rest, and that wherever they were now, they were still together, watching over the place where they had once stood. The offering you placed at the memorial was simple, a bouquet of white chrysanthemums, symbolizing purity and remembrance.

"I pray that you'll always be together, the two of you." you murmured, your voice soft, barely louder than the breeze that rustled through the trees around the monument. "Wherever you are, I hope you’ve found peace, and that your love is still as strong as it was in those last moments."

You stayed there for a while, the silence of the memorial surrounding you, offering its quiet comfort. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the scene, a contrast to the deep sense of loss the place carried. But you didn’t feel sadness. Instead, there was something almost beautiful about it—knowing that even in the face of disaster, these two had been together, and their love had transcended time. As you prepared to leave, footsteps approached from behind. You turned slightly, curious to see who else had come to visit this quiet, forgotten place.

A man with striking white hair and bright blue eyes under the rim of his glasses stood at the edge of the memorial, his head bowed in silent prayer. He was tall, his presence commanding even though he moved with a quiet grace. His features were sharp, but softened by a kind of deep, unspoken sorrow. He knelt down beside the monument, laying a single white flower on the stone, his fingers brushing the surface with reverence.

You watched him for a moment, feeling an inexplicable sense of familiarity, though you couldn’t quite place it. The way he stood there—tall and composed, with an air of quiet reverence that just seemed to draw you in.

There was something almost ethereal about him, as if he was intrinsically linked to the story of the lovers you had come to honor. The connection felt deeper than mere coincidence, as though his presence was a significant part of the narrative that had touched you so profoundly.

His white hair glowed softly in the fading light, and his posture was relaxed yet dignified, embodying a calmness that contrasted sharply with the turmoil you had felt as you reflected on the lovers’ fate.

His eyes were closed in prayer, his face serene, as if he was offering a deeply personal tribute to the souls who had been found together in their final moments. The sense of connection was so strong that you could almost feel it emanating from him, a silent bridge spanning the centuries between his presence and the lovers' tragic end.

You hesitated, not wanting to intrude on his moment of solitude. Yet, there was something compelling about the situation—an unspoken invitation to acknowledge the shared significance of this place and the story that bound them all together. Your curiosity and empathy drove you to speak, despite the quietude that hung between you.

“Excuse me.” you began softly, breaking the stillness of the memorial. Your voice was gentle, barely a whisper against the backdrop of the crashing waves. “I couldn’t help but notice… There's something about you that feels so familiar, so connected to this place. I… I’ve been deeply moved by the story of the lovers found here, and I can’t shake the feeling that you share a connection with them.”

The man turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of surprise and understanding. He seemed to consider your words for a moment, his expression thoughtful and measured. There was a softness in his gaze, as if he had been waiting for this moment, this conversation, even if he didn’t quite know why.

“Oh.” Gojo Satoru whispered back, his cheeks tinged with a flush of surprise, as if your words had caught him off guard. He seemed momentarily at a loss, his usual confidence replaced with a bashful vulnerability. “Yeah, I… I saw the news, and I thought, I just had to come. It felt… it just felt right, you know? To come here and see them off, to wish them well.”

There was a sincerity in his voice, a raw honesty that struck a chord. You could see that this wasn’t just a casual visit for him; it was something deeply personal, a moment of reflection and respect that went beyond mere curiosity.

“I see…” you mumbled, your gaze softening as you looked at him. A smile slowly spread across your face, touched by his heartfelt gesture. “That’s kind of you to do.”

Gojo Satoru shook his head slightly, a rueful smile on his lips. “Ah, not… not really,” he said with a sigh, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “If anything, I think you were more kind. You brought them white chrysanthemums and everything. You probably had more of a proper prayer for them than I did.”

You waved off his comment with a small laugh, the sound light and airy in the quiet of the memorial. “Oh, not at all. I think… I think your intention was purer than mine. You came here just on a feeling, an instinct that something was right about being here. I was… I was interested historically before I was here emotionally, you know?”

His eyes met yours, a flicker of understanding passing between you. “I guess we both had our reasons,” he said softly. “But in the end, it’s the connection that matters. Whether we came here out of personal feelings or historical interest, it’s our respect and acknowledgement that count.”

You nodded, feeling a shared sense of purpose in your conversation. There was something profoundly meaningful about how your paths had crossed at this place, driven by a mutual respect for the story of the lovers and a desire to honor their memory. The distinction between your reasons for being here seemed to dissolve in the face of a greater truth—that both of you were here because of a deep-seated respect and a wish to pay tribute to the enduring power of love.

“So……” Gojo continued, a slight smile returning to his lips, “I’m glad we met here. It feels like the right place for this kind of encounter, don’t you think?”

You agreed, feeling a warmth in his words. “Yes, it does. It’s like the universe brought us together in this moment to remind us of something important.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, something like that. It’s nice to know that even after so much time, and despite all the changes and challenges we face, there are still moments that can bring people together in such a profound way.”

You stood together in silence for a moment, the weight of your shared understanding settling around you. The memorial continued to stand as homage to the lovers’ eternal bond, and in that quiet, sacred space, you felt a connection that transcended all the limits given by the bountiful universe.

“They were together until the very end.” you said softly, your voice carried by the gentle wind. “I hope they’re still together, wherever they are.”

The tall man took a deep breath, turning his head to look at you. For a moment, his blue gaze seemed distant, as though he were seeing something—or someone—far beyond the present. But then his lips curled into a small, sad smile.

“They will be, you know?” he replied quietly, his voice deep and filled with a quiet conviction. “Some loves are strong enough to last forever. They…they transcend, even time.”

There was something in his tone, a weight to his words, that made you wonder if he was speaking from experience. You gave him a respectful nod, choosing not to pry into the emotions that seemed to flicker beneath his calm exterior.

The two of you stood there in silence for a while longer, both paying your respects to the nameless lovers who had defied death with their love. The sun continued to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the memorial. Finally, the man rose to his feet, brushing the dust from his clothes before turning to you.

“Take care, stranger.” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that contrasted with the sorrow that had lingered moments before. Then, with one last look at the monument, he began to walk away, his white hair catching the fading light like a beacon.

As you watched him go, something tugged at your heart. You didn’t know who he was, but in that moment, you felt as though you had shared something important with him—an unspoken understanding of love and loss, of holding on to someone even when the world falls apart around you.

Somehow, there was something stirring within you—a feeling that you couldn’t let him just walk away, not without knowing more. There was something about him, an invisible thread connecting you, as if fate had brought you both to this quiet place for a reason.

"Wait! Hey, mister!" you called out softly, taking a few steps toward him. The man paused, turning back to face you, his expression curious but calm.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say. But then, with a gentle smile, you extended your hand. "I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself. My name is……"

He looked at you for a moment, as if weighing whether to reciprocate. Then, with a small, almost teasing smile, he took your hand in his. His grip was warm, steady, and comforting in a way that felt strangely familiar.

"I'm Gojo Satoru." he said, his voice smooth, yet laced with something deeper, as if his name carried a history he didn’t fully reveal.

The name hung in the air between you, and for a brief moment, you felt a flicker of recognition. But it was fleeting, gone as quickly as it had come. You smiled politely, though something about the way he said it, the way his gaze softened as he looked at you, made you feel like there was more to his introduction than simple formality.

"It's nice to meet you, Satoru." you replied, feeling a strange sense of ease as you spoke his name. There was something about the way it rolled off your tongue, as if you'd said it a thousand times before.

He tilted his head slightly, his sharp, crystal-blue eyes studying you with an intensity that was both disarming and oddly reassuring. It was as if he could see beneath the surface, understanding more than what was immediately apparent. Yet, instead of feeling exposed, you felt a sense of comfort, a silent acknowledgment that he grasped the depths of your emotions and thoughts.

With a gentle, almost shy smile, Gojo Satoru reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, extending it toward you. “Put your number in,” he said, his voice tender and inviting. “I think… I think you know more about this story than I do. I’d like to know more, if you’re willing to share.”

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the request, but the sincerity in his voice and the warmth of his smile compelled you to act. With a nod, you took his phone from him and began to enter your contact information, a small flutter of excitement rising in your chest. There was something intriguing about the prospect of continuing this conversation, of sharing more about the story that had brought you both here.

When you handed his phone back to him, a playful grin appeared on your face. “It’s your turn,” you said, taking out your own phone and extending it toward him.

Gojo Satoru chuckled softly, his eyes lighting up with amusement as he looked at your phone. “Well, alright.” he said, taking it with a mock sigh of resignation. “If you insist.”

As he entered his number into your phone, the atmosphere between you shifted from one of solemn reflection to one of friendly connection. The small act of exchanging numbers felt like a bridge, linking your shared experience at the memorial with the potential for future conversations and deeper understanding. Maybe, just maybe — you’ll understand life the way these two in front of you did. Just maybe.

When he handed your phone back to you, he looked at you with a genuine smile. “Thanks for sharing this moment with me. It’s been… meaningful. I’m glad we crossed paths today.”

You smiled back, feeling a warmth in your chest that came from more than just the shared experience. “I’m glad too. It’s not every day you meet someone who understands the significance of something like this so deeply.”

Finally, Satoru spoke again, his tone lightening slightly. "Well, I should be going. The train is leaving soon. But... It was nice meeting you." He paused, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. "Maybe we’ll see each other again."

You smiled, feeling the same unspoken connection. "I’d like that."

With one last look at the memorial, Satoru turned and began to walk away, his white hair catching the fading light of the day. You watched him go, a strange sense of calm settling over you.

As you stood there, the weight of the lovers' story still fresh in your heart, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the last time you would see Gojo Satoru. Something told you that your paths would cross again, in ways you couldn’t yet predict.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the memorial, you whispered one final prayer—not just for the nameless lovers, but for yourself, and perhaps for Satoru too.

"May we all find each other, in every lifetime."

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stevie-petey · 1 year ago

Text

pretty girl

“Unfair. I was at least–” he breathes out sharply as you begin to suck lazily just below his jaw. “I was gentle, pretty girl. This just, fuck, this feels like torture.” “Shush and let me kiss you, Stevie.”

Summary: steve has to get his daily kiss quota in somehow, right?

Rating: general, makeout session, cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, slight neck kink if u arent into that, mild makeout session (so so so mild tho) - not proofread, i just kinda wrote so pls ignore typos lmao

Words: 1.1k

Before you swing in: hello ! i was in a bit of a lovey dovey mood, and while i adore writing come home, i simply couldnt bring myself to write more repressed feelings tonight. so, heres a quick lil boyfriend!steve blurb. it isnt at all correlated with come home (although if u squint ... maybe) its just me being so engrossed in my current crush and needing to be severely kissed. rip. anyways, enjoy !

Every night, Steve throws rocks outside your window.

The rocks pang softly against the glass, one after another, as they bounce harmlessly on their endeavor to get your attention.

Every night, you answer.

“What ails you tonight, Harrington?” You’ve opened your window now, leaning your head out so that you can see the boy standing below.

He winks at you. “The usual.”

“Hm,” you rest your elbows against the wooden panel encasing your window. “How many do you need this time?”

“Hard to say, but if I had to guess… A million, honestly.”

You laugh. “A million, huh?”

“Maybe even more.” Steve smiles up at you, admiring how the moonlight frames your pretty face, making it even softer than he ever thought possible. It takes his breath away for a second, knowing how the face staring down at him is the same face that stares up at him whenever morning comes.

“Give me five minutes, lovely.”

Steve smiles at the nickname, letting it warm his face as well as his bones. “I’ll go warm up the car.”

You wave, blowing the boy a quick kiss, before closing your window to go over to your dresser. The top drawer has long come to contain your nighttime adventure outfits with Steve. A simple pair of sweatpants and his hoodie that you stole years ago but never gave back.

He knows you have it still, but you know he secretly loves seeing you wear it.

As soon as you’re ready, slippers and all, you quietly run down your stairs so you don’t disturb your parents and unlock the front door. The lock clicks harshly against the night’s quietness, but with one smooth turn you manage to undo the lock and open the door.

Steve, true to his word, is waiting in his car with the heat blasting, just the way you like it.

It’s winter, early January, and school hasn’t quite started back up yet.

The second you approach the car, Steve gets out and walks to the passenger side so that he can open it before you even touch its handle. You scoff at the overdramatic mannerisms, but blush nonetheless.

“I can open my own door, Steve.”

He shrugs. “Sure, but you’re beautiful and I love you.”

The words fall freely from his lips, and you intertwine your hand behind his neck and pull his lips flushed against yours. He hums into it, pulls you so that your chests are engulfed together and your legs stumble and enclose around his. It’s messy, your other hand clutches at Steve’s jacket and he relishes in the way your knuckles tighten around him.

“One down, a million more to go.” Steve whispers against your lips.

You laugh, throwing your head back and he watches the sight of it all. How your neck lengthens as you laugh, the way your hair cascades behind you and the way your eyes crinkle shut. You put on a whole show for him, and he can’t get enough of it.

“You really think we can get through a million kisses tonight?” You ask, nudging your nose against the length of Steve’s jaw.

He shivers. “Got a few ways I think we can manage that.”

You pull away now, though you keep your hand at the nape of his neck. “At least take a girl on a date first.”

“I’m trying, pretty girl.” He gestures toward the car, its engine humming softly. You roll your eyes, but when Steve finally opens the passenger door, you reluctantly let go of him and sit down. “Atta girl, Y/N.”

Before you can huff at him for the nickname, Steve gently closes the door and heads over to his own driver’s side. He opens the door, the warm air escaping a bit, and as soon as Steve is in the car he tugs at your hoodie (his hoodie) and once again you’re kissing.

It’s longer this time, languid and lingering. He brings a hand up to your cheek and his thumb strokes the high point in a fluid back and forth motion. You lean deeper into him, your own hands coming up to his chest as if you could bring him any closer to you.

Steve nips at your bottom lip and you let him in, you always let him in.

You gasp as he sucks on the lip and you feel him smile at your reaction. With one hand still caressing your cheek, his other hand comes up to the base of your neck. It’s warm, he’s always so warm, and his calloused fingers find their usual place, splayed across both sides of your neck. His palm settles just above your collarbones and your breath hitches.

“Steve…” You exhale his name, as if it were a prayer.

He pulls away a little, his eyes a molten honey color in the moonlight. “Yes, pretty girl?”

You turn your head and press a kiss against the hand still on your cheek. “Three down, 999,999,997 to go.”

“Make that four,” Steve presses a kiss to your nose, then your cheek, then to the tips of your eyelashes. “Now eight.”

You giggle as he presses another kiss to your temple and then your ear. He’s everywhere, now, peppering kisses on every inch of skin he can find. “And here, and here, and here…”

Steve goes down to your neck now, his nose trailing down the bare skin, making you shiver, and his kisses are so soft. Despite his teasing and the hold he still has on your neck, his lips leave a trail so soft and sanguine against your skin that they burn like whiskey.

He reaches for your hand now, bringing the length of your arm up to his face, and just before he presses even more kisses against you, you laugh and pull your arm back. Steve starts to whine, unhappy with his kisses being interrupted, but you comb your fingers through his hair.

“Seems unfair to make you do all the work, lovely.”

Steve’s lips are red and swollen from earlier, they almost distract you from his response. “Shush and let me kiss you.”

He tries to duck his head back down to your neck for more, but you stop him. “Nuh-uh. My turn.”

Before Steve can argue some more, you tug at his jacket, and because you’ve caught him off guard, he falls so far forward that his neck is open for the taking. You press your own kisses against it, connecting the moles that litter his skin with a kiss, and Steve exhales shakily as you do so.

“Unfair. I was at least–” he breathes out sharply as you begin to suck lazily just below his jaw. “I was gentle, pretty girl. This just, fuck, this feels like torture.”

“Shush and let me kiss you, Stevie.”

Steve’s hand tightens around your neck as the other flies up to your head, pressing you further into his neck as you suck on a spot that he particularly likes. “Yeah… Fuck, okay. Shutting up now.”

⌑ writing masterlist

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem #stranger things #m's writing #fluff #this is a cute lil thing #yall are welcome

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darl-ings · 10 months ago

Text

midnight radio | jeon wonwoo

pairing: wonwoo x reader

genre: fluff, college au

warnings: none

word count: 2390

summary: in which you are a new host for your school’s midnight radio broadcast and wonwoo makes a call to the show

a/n: this has been in my drafts since 2021…

“Good evening, everyone. Welcome to KU’s Midnight Radio. The song you just heard was Sabrina Carpenter’s Bed Chem. I’m Y/N, your host for this semester. As you may know, Midnight Radio is usually hosted by Soonyoung Kwon, or DJ Hoshi, our favorite eccentric dance major, but he’s studying abroad in Japan right now, so I’m here to host the show for him until he comes back in January.

“You know, I’m actually not that nervous right now, even though I’m alone. I don’t know if any of you know me, but I hosted the show with DJ Hoshi and DJ Hong for a bit during last fall semester. I had a great time since I got to chat with my fellow peers during the late hours of the night. By the way, I hope you’re all having a good night so far. The first week has been really hectic for me, so I’m sure it was for a lot of you too. Make sure to get some rest. After the show, of course.”

You winked at the camera filming you, watching as the comments of the show’s Twitch stream began flooding in. You leaned forward, squinting your eyes to read them.

“Welcome, welcome. I see a few song requests, so I’ll make sure to play some of those later. Does anyone want to have a chat? The number is in the pinned comment if you guys want to talk. I get it if you don’t want to though. I’m having a pretty good time by myself.”

It took only a few moments for the phone to light up next to the laptop. A grin appeared on your face as you reached out to answer it, pressing the speaker button before leaning back to get comfortable in your chair.

“Name and social security number please,” you joked, crossing your arms over your chest as you smiled over to the camera.

“Wonwoo, 738203830,” the voice answered back, causing you to gasp.

“Did anyone get that? Surely someone wrote that down,” you asked, grinning happily as you leaned forward to read through the flood of comments. “Some people caught that number, Wonwoo. Anything to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry to Kim Mingyu for outing his social security number,” the person stated, his seriousness making you laugh. The person on the phone chuckled too. “It’s not his actual number, by the way.”

“I’d hope not. If we’re thinking of the same Kim Mingyu, I’m positive he wouldn’t let you live another second if you gave that information away,” you laughed again, thinking about your good friend, Mingyu.

“You’re right. Do you know him? Tall, good cook, thinks he’s good looking?”

“I do, but I’m not going to fuel his already big ego by talking about him during the show.”

“Good idea.”

“So, Wonwoo. Tell us about yourself. Anything interesting going on?” you asked, anticipating the stranger’s answer. Wonwoo hummed to himself in thought.

“My name is Wonwoo. I live off-campus with a few of my friends, Mingyu included. My major is--”

“Sorry to cut you off, Wonwoo, but if I have another awkward conversation about majors my head might explode. I said tell me something interesting! What are you doing right now?”

“Oh thank God, I wasn’t ready to have someone ask what classes I take and why I choose KU as my school. I hate when they ask that, by the way. Why do they care so much?” he questioned, making you chuckle.

“They don’t care. They’re just trying to fill the awkward silence with an awkward question.”

“Right. Well, what am I doing right now? Hm, I’m in my room watching your stream and talking to you. Mingyu’s cooking ramen for our other roommate Vernon, so I might steal some of it when he’s done making it.”

“It’s the right thing to do. But also, why are they cooking so late? It’s 11:30pm right now.”

“Vernon skipped dinner to go to the Asian-American club meeting. He’s one of the club leaders so he had a lot to do tonight.”

“That’s the best club on campus, by the way,” you pointed out to the camera. “Anyway, did you want to talk about anything, Wonwoo?”

“Hmm, let me think of something interesting. Should I ask an academic or existential question?” he asked, your eyebrows furrowing as you thought.

“While I do love existential questions, I think since it's the end of the first week of school, we should talk about academic things. Don’t make it boring though. Maybe some advice?”

“Advice is a bit boring though…”

“I could just ask the next caller…”

“How do you get close to your peers?” Wonwoo quickly asked, making the smile on your face soften. “I mean, maybe we could give a few tips on making friends?” he suggested. You nodded along, clapping your hands gently.

“I like that, yeah. I know a lot of people, including myself, who had or are currently having a hard time getting close to others. Are you the same, Wonwoo?”

“I am.”

“Really? You don’t seem like it. We’ve had a good conversation so far, I think.”

“Yeah, but it’s easier to talk when you’re not face-to-face with the person, you know?”

“That’s true. Maybe that’s why I feel so comfortable talking to a stranger right now.”

“Maybe… Look, I know we said we weren’t going to talk about Mingyu, but he’s a good example for our question. He’s a talkative person, right?”

“Very talkative.”

Wonwoo laughed. “I met him halfway through my sophomore year. He was a freshman but he was more popular than anyone I knew. He came up to me in the cafeteria when I was eating alone and just struck up a conversation with me. I’m surprised he didn’t stop talking to me after that since I was very quiet and gave him short answers. He’s my best friend now, so I’ve witnessed a lot of encounters when he just goes up to someone randomly and talks to them. We went to the grocery store earlier today and he just started a conversation with a worker in the bread aisle…” Wonwoo paused for a few moments, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “I guess I’ve always wanted to have his voice. Not like–not his actual voice, but his ability to talk to anyone and keep them interested.”

You hummed at Wonwoo’s words, eyes on the comments as you spoke. “It seems a few listeners have friends like this too. But, yeah, I get it. My friend Yuqi is very extroverted as well. I wish I could make friends as easily as her, but also, I can tell it’s exhausting for them to talk so much. I don’t know about Mingyu, but Yuqi comes back to our apartment after a party and immediately crashes. She pushes herself to talk to all these people, but it just tires herself out. I’m sure if I tried to be that extroverted, I would probably die.”

“Same. I remember after my freshman orientation week, I slept for twenty-seven hours straight. I was going to sleep for more, but my roommate at the time called the on-campus police saying he thought I was dead.”

“Twenty-seven hours? Jeez, you practically were dead! But seriously, talking to people is so exhausting. Especially during freshman orientation! The amount of people I talked to during then was more than I’ve talked to in my entire life.”

“Of all those people I met, I only talk to one of them today. All of it was pretty pointless, but I’ve heard some people meet their best friends during that first week.”

“Yeah, I met a few of mine during then too. But, anyway, back to the question. How do you get close to people? Well, my advice is to remember that whatever you’re insecure about, whether it's your personality, your body, whatever, it does not matter. When you’re meeting someone, don’t focus on the negative things, like if you’re making a fool of yourself or if you look bad. No one cares that much, and if they do, they aren’t a good friend.”

“This is why it took me so long to make friends. I always felt that no one was listening to me when I spoke, so I convinced myself that I had nothing important to say. But my friends now teach me that my voice matters. Vernon especially. He doesn’t talk much, to begin with, but when he does everyone focuses on him, because we care about what he has to say. And when I talk, everyone looks at me and I feel like they’re listening.”

“That’s important, by the way! Make eye contact when you’re speaking with people. I feel so shitty when people aren’t looking at me while I’m talking. I always trail off and just stop talking. Make eye contact, and don’t multitask when someone is talking to you. It’s rude.”

“Don’t get me started on that. I hate when people are doing other things during a conversation, especially if we’re talking about something deep or important. And I really hate when people don’t listen to me after I just listened to them.”

“Please, everyone, listen when people talk. My self-esteem gets so low when people don’t listen to what I have to say. So please, listen to people and be active in the conversation.”

“Being active in the conversation is really important.”

“Exactly. So, in conclusion, listen, be active, and make eye contact. If you make people feel good while you’re talking, they’ll want to talk to you more,” you stated while pointing at the camera with a stern look on your face. You heard Wonwoo chuckle, causing your hand to falter. “Why are you laughing?”

“You’re just cute,” he answered simply, causing a blush to spread across your cheeks. You looked away from the camera, suddenly feeling very shy. “Wow, really? All it took was calling you cute to stop you from talking?”

“It caught me off guard,” you whined slightly, hiding your face with your hands. Wonwoo laughed at your reaction, causing a wide smile to fall on your lips. You removed your hands from your face, smiling at the phone. “Did Mingyu finish making the ramen?” you asked, resting your arms on the table.

“Yeah, a while ago.”

“What? Why didn’t you go eat it?”

“Because I was talking to you. But I should go now. I think they’re watching Single’s Inferno without me.”

“Alright, Wonwoo,” you pouted slightly, sighing as you traced your finger on the table’s wood.

“Don’t sound so disappointed, Y/N,” Wonwoo chuckled softly. It was embarrassing how easily a stranger could make your cheeks redden. The conversation with Wonwoo was the best one you’ve had in a while, and you were sad to end the call.

“I’m not,” you denied, sitting up to scoot closer to your laptop. You read through a few comments before speaking up. “The people don’t want you to leave.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you answered, reading a few more comments. “Someone said you should co-host the show with me,” you giggled.

“That sounds fun. Maybe I’ll look into it for you.”

“Don’t be cheesy,” you muttered with a smile, switching your laptop tabs from the Twitch stream to your Spotify. “Before you go, any song requests?” you asked, trying not to sound sad as you spoke. Wonwoo hummed in thought.

“I’ve been listening to SUHO’s album recently, Self-Portrait?”

“I love that album,” you smiled.

“It’s really good. Could I request a song from it?”

“Of course.”

“Okay… maybe, Let’s Love,” Wonwoo suggested, your heart doing a million flips as you typed the song into the search bar.

“I’ll make sure to play it next. Thank you for this lovely conversation, Wonwoo. Eat well tonight and get some rest,” you stated. “Tell Mingyu to make me ramen sometime, too.”

“Will do. Thanks for talking with me, Y/N. Goodnight, sleep well after the show.”

The line ended shortly after, a sad smile resting on your face. You sighed, looking back to the camera with a wider smile.

“Now, I will be playing Wonwoo’s song request. It’s one of my favorites off the mini-album, Self-Love. This is Let’s Love, by EXO’s SUHO.”

You held two more shows on Saturday and Sunday night, silently wishing Wonwoo would call again. You had good conversations with other students, but none were as riveting as the one you had with Wonwoo. It was probably easy to search him up, and you contemplated doing so during your free period between classes on Monday as you sat in the campus cafe with Yuqi across from you. Your finger hovered over the Instagram search button, where you had typed in Wonwoo’s name, but to avoid being a creep, you exited out of the app and placed your phone on the table.

“Dude, found your mystery man,” Yuqi spoke up, causing you to nearly spit out your drink. You looked up at her, raising your eyebrows in confusion.

“What?”

“Wonwoo, that guy you talked to during the show on Friday. He’s in Mingyu’s recent post. They went to some water park,” Yuqi stated, still scrolling through her phone. “They all have really good bodies…” she trailed off, staring dreamily at her screen.

“Are you not going to show me?” you questioned, leaning forward to look at her phone. She giggled at your eagerness, turning her phone to face you.

In the photo, Mingyu was standing next to three other guys, including Minghao, who was a partner of yours in your Photography class. You tapped on the picture, revealing the tags of the others standing with them. There was a person tagged vernon_98, who you immediately identified as the Vernon that Wonwoo talked about during your call. Which meant, the other person tagged as everyone_woo was Wonwoo.

You blinked at the picture, taking in the visuals of your mystery caller. You noted his black hair and his glasses which made him look surprisingly good. You blushed slightly at how the wet suit he wore was tight against his muscles, revealing his large biceps and pecs. He held up a peace sign, your eyes trailing to his hand. He was so incredibly handsome, and you just had a conversation with him like it was nothing.

“Oh my God,” you muttered. “He’s hot?!”

#jeon wonwoo imagines #wonwoo imagine #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #seventeen imagines #seventeen college au #svt imagine #seventeen drabbles #svt x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader

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eden-axe · 1 month ago

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Stressed Mess

Sylus x gn! non!MC college student

I wrote this after I finished all my work for the semester and now I’m finally graduating! So its more a celebration/ birthday comfort fic for myself lmao.

Summary: Y/n is stressed about all the college work they feel they are falling behind on, and Sylus cannot bare to watch them fall deeper and deeper into a spiral of hopelessness.

Word count: 1015

You’re sitting at your desk after a long day of handling errands for class, with having to buy supplies for a small project, and going shopping for groceries for yourself in your own apartment; and now you are at Sylus’ place staying in the spare office room he set up for you, working on college work that you feel like you should have finished ages ago. For the past 4 hours you managed to do a lot of work, yet all that work feels like just a drop in the bucket as the clock slowly ticks closer to midnight. You had already finished doing practice quizzes, taking notes for those quizzes, and even finished a 10 page paper you had been slowly working on.

Yet despite all that work it still felt like it was not enough, cause you still had to submit a question and answer paper on a book you were very excited to read for class, even ranting about the contents of the book to Sylus, who read the book with you so you would keep up with your assignments; but now, you were just very tired and just wanted to go to bed, but you didn’t want to miss an assignment— you haven’t miss a deadline yet, and you were not planning on it being today.

You were so engrossed in trying to finish your work you did not hear Sylus enter the room, which despite his light footsteps, you always knew when he came home. When you did not acknowledge him, he looked at you with a slightly hurt look as your greetings from a mission were always his favorite part of his missions. But when he actually looked at you his faux hurt expression vanished and his eyebrows knitted together as he glanced at your face, eyes glazed over ready to either close from exhaustion, or tears spill over from the worries of your computer. Sylus wishes he could have run your errands, or at least made the twins do it, they would have been happy to use his black card for your sake, and themselves, but he had ‘work’ that he could not attend alone due to some people stirring up trouble in the N109, but you didn’t need to know all the details.

Sylus quickly stalks over to your desk and notices the snacks he left you were untouched, once hot slider sandwiches, now cold as he noted that it had been well over 4 hours since he had left them there steaming before giving you a quick kiss and leaving for work. He decided that both of you needed a break from your responsibilities, and turned your chair around and quickly picked you up and took his place where you once sat. You were now on his lap with your feet hanging off the armchairs.

Sylus gave you a small peek and asked, “What work you have left, sweetie? Maybe I can help a bit”

You lean against his chest and explain, “It’s just answering questions, you know from that one book we’ve been reading. You don’t have to worry though, I can handle it I’m—” Before you can finish Sylus puts a savory slider in front of you.

You look at him as you take the slider, his eyes are pleading at you like a kicked puppy, and any argument you did have died as you eat the small sandwich. You both hum in delight as the sandwich does taste good, and Sylus is just glad to see you eating.

“Now how about I read and write, and you just tell me the answers, so you don’t feel like you’re cheating. Hm?” You want to argue, you really do, but this honestly sounds like such a nice solution that you just hum in agreement.

It takes no more than 20 minutes for each question to be answered, and all the food is eaten. You then move so you are facing the computer, while still on Sylus’ lap, and reviews the answers and edits some of the answers to make it more ‘you sounding’ before Sylus submits the work for you as he shoos you away to go take a bath.

While you are sitting in the bath, Sylus is taking a quick shower of his own in a separate bathroom; when he gets out and changes before you leave the bath, he manages to get clothes for you and remakes his bed so it feels more comfortable and soft. When you still haven’t exited the bathroom connected to the bedroom he walks over with warm pajamas, and hears your cries before he even opens the door. When he hears you he quickly opens the door to see your head tilted back and a relaxed expression lay across your face. He places the clothes down on the closed toilet seat and kneels down next to the bath.

“Sweetie” his voice wavers, ever so subtly, “Are you alright, why the tears?”

You lazily open your eyes, and your face just melts into a smile as you stare at his flickering eyes, “I’m just glad.”

“Glad?”

You reach a wet hand out of the bath to stroke his cheek, “Yeah. I just feel like everything from school, to just life in general, it was all too much, ya know? I’m just so grateful you are always here Sylus. You’re always here right when I feel like I’m about to just break from all the stress.”

Sylus grabs your hand and kisses the palm, “Of course I will be here Sweetie. I will always make sure you can never break, and even if you do, I will always be here to help you put yourself back together.”

Sylus then leaves the bathroom so you can get changed, and the second you step out in nice warm clothes Sylus grabs you from behind and walks over to the bed tucks you both in. As Sylus hums gently, and slightly off key, both of your worries drift away as in his arm there are no assignments or enemies to stress over.

#love and deepspace #sylus #sylus x reader #sylus comfort #sylus fluff #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #EdenAxe writes

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guilttrippinmp3 · 6 months ago

Text

you buy me orange juice

college au!mikey way x gn!reader // ~1.5k words

tags: pt 1./?, fluff, few year age gap, friends to lovers, late night studying, recreational drug use, falling in love, feat. roommate frank for a couple sentences

a/n: self-indulgent mikey college au i wrote for myself that's probably ooc but maybe someone else'll enjoy it too <3

the stuffy air of mikey's dorm room was thick with the scent of weed and the sugar-cookie-scented candle you'd gifted him for christmas. the white noise of typing was louder than the CD that'd been playing when you fell asleep, now turned all the way down so that it was barely audible. you rolled over onto your side, cracking one eye open to see mikey chewing on his lip, face lit up by his open laptop screen.

"what're you doin'?"

at the sound of your voice mikey's face lit up with a smile, teeth losing their hold on his bottom lip as he turned to look at you. his hands paused, hovering above his keyboard before he reached out to trace a fingertip down your forehead.

"hey, kid," he murmured softly. the nickname made you whine, eyes squeezing back shut when he laughed. you were only a few years younger than him, but the nickname had stuck from when you'd first met. he'd been so excited to be hanging out with someone who didn't know his older brother that he'd immediately played up the few years difference between you both. you didn't mind. it had made the transition to university easier, feeling like someone was looking out for you. "sleep okay?"

"mhm. i didn't mean to fall asleep," you huffed, pushing yourself upright and letting your head fall to rest against his shoulder. "thought you were gonna wait so we could smoke together."

"i'm sorry, i'm just stuck on this fuckin' essay," he sighed. "figured you didn't wanna get high just to watch me study."

"'s okay," you replied, the warmth radiating off of mikey already making you sleepy again. the clock in the corner of his laptop screen read two in the morning, which should've been a surprise but really wasn't. "you want me to run and get you coffee?"

"where're you gonna get coffee at this time?" he asked, his expression so clear in his voice you didn't have to look up to know he was raising an eyebrow at you.

"the gas station," you replied, like it was obvious. mikey hummed softly before shutting his laptop.

"okay, let's go."

"hm?"

"let's go," he repeated, shrugging his shoulder to get you to lift your head. he slid his laptop to the free space at the end of the bed, standing up and grabbing his jacket.

"i can go for you, mikey," you tried, but you were smiling as you got up and reached for your jacket where it was thrown atop frank's bed.

"i'm not letting you go out alone at two in the morning," he shrugged, slipping his feet into the same beat-up converse he'd been wearing since you met him. now you were grinning, looking up from tying your laces to see mikey holding out a hand to you. he pulled you up, his warm palm against yours filling your stomach with butterflies. he let go as soon as you were upright, pulling on a hat just as you noticed the tips of his ears turning pink. "c'mon."

it was quiet outside, gusts of wind whipping around snowflakes that melted as soon as they touched the ground. mikey grumbled about his essay as you both walked, shoulders drawn up to his shoulders to keep the wind out of his face. his essay as he walked, shoulders drawn up to keep the wind away from his face as he rambled. you listened, even though you were still half-asleep, nowhere near awake enough to fully understand what he was talking about. he'd done the same for you on various occasions, listening to whatever was on your mind even if he couldn't do much to help (though more often than not he'd knock on your door a few days later, having done his own research on whatever was bothering you and ready to help out).

the warmth of the gas station enveloped you both as you walked in, poppy radio hits playing from the speaker as you both walked through the aisles. you grabbed a couple packs of cup noodles and mikey picked up a carton of orange juice before heading to the counter.

"can we get two coffees and a hot dog?" he asked the cashier, quickly pulling out his credit card before you could use yours.

"not fair, this was my idea," you hissed, hugging your noodles close to your chest so that he couldn't grab them and pay for those too. mikey just smiled, picking up two paper cups from the counter.

"i'll go fill these, just get the hot dog," he said, his smile growing into a grin when you shot him a glare. you didn't mind him paying, not when you could just bring coffee to his place the next time you showed up (and especially not when he glanced back at you, still smiling, while you paid for your noodles), but it was about the principle of it.

you took a bite out of the hot dog as you sidled up to him, resting your head against his shoulder as he stirred sugar into both your coffees.

"still sleepy?" he asked, humming softly when you nodded. "you can stay at my place if you want, i don't think frank's gonna be back until the morning."

"maybe," you mumbled, letting him take the hot dog from you. "thanks for paying."

"'course," was all he said, nudging the top of your head with his. "let's go, i gotta finish that paragraph tonight."

the walk back was sweet, like candy floss lingering on your fingertips sticky and bright pink. steam rose from the little gap in the covers over your coffees, taking on the orange colour of the street lights. you hummed softly to yourself, giggling when mikey joined in with you, singing along through a mouthful of food. the rest of the world was quiet and still, or at least as quiet and still as a student city ever got, except for the two of you. with the snowflakes falling it was almost as though someone had lowered the glass of a snow globe over you both, encapsulating this moment safe and sound where nobody else could reach you.

the door to mikey's room creaked as he pushed it open, and he immedately let out a groan.

"what?" you asked as you stepped past him, giggling when you noticed frank passed out in his bed. "oh, shit."

"fucker," mikey mumbled, setting his coffee down on his bedside table. "sorry, i figured he'd be too drunk to make it back."

"it's fine, i can walk myself back," you shrugged, kicking off your shoes and sitting down on the edge of mikey's bed. mikey nodded, quiet as he folded his jacket over the end of the bed, his hair unruly and sticking up when he pulled off his hat. "c'mere a second."

"what?" he asked, trying to keep his voice down as he sat down next to you. you reached out to smooth his hair back down, unable to hold back another giggle when he scrunched his nose a little. he didn't pull away though, letting you stroke every lock of his greasy hair back into place without complaint.

"there," you said, taking a sip of your coffee.

"you could stay over if you want, sleep in my bed. i got the juice you like and i'll wake you up in time for class," he suggested. when you hesitated he elbowed you gently, shifting to sit up with his back up against the headboard. "i can walk you back otherwise, don't worry."

you smiled, feeling warmth climb your cheeks.

"i can stay. if you're sure it's okay."

mikey smiled back at you, face lit up by his laptop screen as he clicked back to his assignment with a huff.

"c'mere then."

you let your jacket fall down onto the floor before you shuffled to sit beside him, slumping down so you could rest your head against his arm. as he typed away, deleting and retyping certain phrases over and over, you felt your eyelids begin to droop, the few sips of gas station coffee doing nothing to help keep you awake. you felt safe, tucked away against one of your closest friends with a CD playing quietly in the background, his arm moving slightly in time with each of his breaths.

you weren't sure when exactly you fell asleep, but you felt mikey take the coffee cup from where it was still in your hands, giving your fingers a gentle squeeze before he went back to writing. the last thing you heard was frank's bed creaking as he sat up, groaning softly.

"dude, how come i can't bring people over but you can?" he grunted, mikey's typing pausing for a moment.

"you're gonna wake them up."

"fine, whatever... shit, i think i'm gonna puke."

mikey's shoulder shook a little as he laughed, almost covering up the sound of frank shutting the bathroom door behind him. you smiled, shifting around a little so that your head was on the pillow beside mikey's hip. you could hear the smile still in his voice when he stroked the space between your brows with his knuckle and whispered softly to you.

"night."

#mikey way x reader #mikey way fanfic #my chemical romance x reader #mcr x reader #mikey way fluff #mcr fluff

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innerconflict · 1 year ago

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one-shot ; little cuddles w/ miguel 🫶

wc: 563

warnings: none, maybe talk about overworking?

a/n: wrote at 1am and had to reread this morning because i don't trust myself between 1am-4am

You're curled up on the sofa in your apartment, scrolling through your phone with a sheet mask on and a blanket pulled up to your chest. The windows are open, letting the warm air from Nueva York drift in and wash over you.

Miguel left earlier than usual today. He left a little note, saying he probably wouldn't be back until late. You've been doing nothing all day, scrolling through Instagram and random blog sites. There's been a lull in supervillain activity recently, but you don't mind a bit. Except for the fact that it gives Miguel more time to work on his tech, ergo, spend less time with you. Sometimes he won't even sleep—he'll come home, cuddle you until you fall asleep, and then work himself away in his mini-lab all night.

You're scrolling through one of these blog sites now, looking at what your [star sign] Lilith means when you hear the lock in the door twist and the apartment door open.

You smile to yourself, sit up a little, and flick your hair out of your face. You hear him kick his trainers off, then he appears at the door and stands there for a second, looking at you.

"Hey, sweetheart," you say, smiling. He walks over.

Miguel collapses onto you, his face smushing into your chest, and his arms wrap around your back. He's warm, still wearing the clothes he was wearing when you went to bed the night before. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, running your hands through his messy curls.

"Sweetheart," you say, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

"Mi cariño," he murmurs, rubbing his nose into your top and breathing in deeply. "I missed you."

"Bad day?"

"No," he says, lifting his head up and resting it on your shoulder. "Tiring one."

You're suddenly aware of the late hour and the orange light shining through the semi-open blinds at the window. "We can go to bed."

"Hmm..."

He doesn't move; he just holds you tighter. You can feel the tension in his muscles and the way his body seems to be seeking comfort in you.

"You work too hard, Miguel," you whisper, running your fingers through his hair. "You need to take a break sometimes."

He sighs softly. "I know. It's just... there's always something."

"Yeah, I know," you say, because you do know. Even you have moments where all you do is work. "Just us now, though."

He pulls back slightly to look at you, his face softening. "Just us," he repeats, looking into your eyes.

You both untangle from each other gently. He takes the sheet mask off your face and kisses your forehead.

The two of you head to the bedroom, switching the lights off and collapsing into the bed. You get under the covers, and he joins you, pulling you close to his chest and burrowing his face into your neck. You close your eyes, cosy, and you can feel yourself drifting off.

"Thank you," he whispers, sounding tired. You'd thought he'd fallen asleep.

"Hm, for what?" you murmur, your fingers tracing patterns on his arms.

"For being my safe place," he replies, kissing your shoulder. "Love that you're always there for me."

You smile, feeling your heart swell with love. "I love that you're always there for me too."

He relaxes into you, and you lean back against him, totally safe. You can feel his heartbeat on your back, can feel his fingers pressing into your stomach, and you only have good dreams that night.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara one shot #miguel o'hara x reader #imagines #sorry i couldnt bring myself to write sneakers

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awearywritersworld · 2 years ago

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Ryomen Sukuna x Reader summary: you're cuddling in bed with your very sleepy boyfriend, except he's not exactly your very sleepy boyfriend w/c: .75k tags/warnings: somewhat suggestive but not smut. praise. "good girl" but no other reference to gender. fluff. "kitten" i can't help myself. aged up!yuuji a/n: idek! wrote this in an attempt to get inspired and to let everyone know im still alive, kicking, and most importantly, suffering from sukuna brain rot. currently rewatching so this is brought to u by s1e4. masterlist

Your favorite place to be, even after all this time, is Yuuji's arms. His embrace is warm and inviting, and it never fails to put your mind at ease, even with Sukuna in the picture. You've known him for as long as you've known Yuuji, but his snide, snarky comments never deterred your love for his vessel.

Though, after many long months, his commentary became more... unassuming? At least when you were around, anyway. The first time it happened, you'd asked Yuuji if he knew where you left your phone.

"It's on the couch," another voice answered.

You and your boyfriend stared at each other with raised brows before your eyes shifted down to ever abiding mouth on his cheek.

"What?" Sukuna actually grumbled before disappearing.

It's been a while since then. You're resting against Yuuji's chest, his arm snaked around your waist, his breathing deep and steady. Sleep nearly overcomes you, but his chest vibrates with words you're not quite able to make out and it just barely tugs you back to consciousness.

You hum drowsily, your hands grabbing at his sweatshirt in a weak attempt to pull him nearer.

"That's it," he encourages, drawing you impossibly closer.

The small noises you make as you situate yourself have the man exhaling just a little more harshly than before.

"Want me to praise you?" he offers, a sly edge to his voice. It's only then your mind registers that something is... off. This voice is more intense than the one you're used to. "It's obvious you like it when the brat tells you what a good girl you are."

Your eyes snap open, the top of your head nearly colliding with his chin as you pull back from him. Propping yourself up on your elbow, you're unable to help the small gasp that passes your lips as you take in your boyfriend's changed appearance.

"W-What the hell, Sukuna?"

There's a lazy smirk on his face and his hand settles on your hip like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"He's right, you know."

"What are you even on about? It's too late for this shit" you remark, free hand rubbing at your eyelids in an attempt to wake yourself up.

Despite Sukuna never having randomly appeared before, you're not intimidated. Well, not terribly so, even if the man before you is of infamous legend. These days his voice is a constant in your life and that keeps you from registering the possible (probable?) danger of your current situation.

"I was trying to tell you how pretty you are."

"Oh," you squeak out, warmth creeping from your neck toward your cheeks. He chuckles, but you're uncertain whether or not he's teasing you.

His fingers trail up your waist, his touch just barely grazing the skin there before catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

"Hm, and so sweet too." His thumb extends to brush against your bottom lip.

The contact leaves your stomach swirling with one too many emotions and your hand reaches up to his bicep, as if the action might stop anything else from being said or done.

It doesn't.

He moves his arm from your grasp, but only so that he can wrap his fingers around your wrist. You finally meet his lidded gaze as he brings the inside of your wrist to his lips, peppering a few light kisses there. "So that means you're a very good girl, don't you think?"

His tone is even and low, unfeigned in a way that makes you shudder. The whole situation has you shifting restlessly and averting your gaze.

"Why are you...?" Your voice is barely above a whisper and you're incapable of figuring out a way to describe what was happening at the present moment.

He takes a few seconds before answering, studying how you've pulled your bottom lip between your teeth with a furrowed brow.

His voice quiets to match your own. "Is Yuuji the only one who can concern himself with your happiness?"

You attempt to mask the surprise that threatens your features, but still glance up at him with widened eyes. A momentary silence falls between the two of you and there's an air of suspense to it.

"I never said that."

That must be answer enough, as he tugs you back to his chest once more. You let him envelop you with ease and tangle your legs between his.

"Then stop worrying and go back to sleep, kitten."

#m!writes #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagines #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagines #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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idkwhatever580 · 1 year ago

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Always remember the things she said

Masterlist

Based on the song “as good a reason” by Paris Paloma (the girl who wrote “labor”)

Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader | Wanda maximoff x reader!platonic\older sister vibes | Wanda maximoff x Natasha romanoff!platonic\older sister vibes again

Prompt: two occasions happen where Natasha and y/n give their sisterly advice to Wanda, and she’s the first one to connect the dots.

Warnings: swearing, songfic

A/N: guys I love a good songfic. this is giving me life right now btw. I’m living for this song.

Here’s the song if you want to listen. It’s not important that you hear it but it’s soooo good

Wanda and Pietro just joined the team.

Of course Pietro was busy recovering from almost bleeding out, and Wanda was getting tested for her abilities.

After most of the screenings were done she was pretty tired. And you were there to help her settle in.

You went with her to the party that night since Tony used their presence as a good reason to celebrate.

Wanda had sat next to you the whole night almost as you were elegant and beautiful in your own right. And you knew it. Suddenly she speaks up after not having said much more than a peep all night.

“You really know what you’re doing.”

“Hm?”

“I mean. You look like you love yourself so much and it’s attractive to everyone. It draws eyes towards you. The way you carry yourself”

You smile and thank her and nod your head.

“I didn’t always know how to own the room.”

She turns her head and says

“When did you change? Or become like this?”

You smile and say

“Can I tell you a story?”

She nods interested now.

You sit back as you recall that fateful night.

“One night. I was at a party not unlike this one.”

Wanda nods along and you start

“I met a woman with lips so red. A face so lined like spider webs. I’ll always remember the things she said. They were so wise, she opened my eyes and they’ll never close again.”

Wanda asked

“What’d she say? What did she do?”

You smile at her innocence and intrigue

“Oh how she sighed when she stubbed her cigarette. I felt compelled to enquirer of her success. ‘How do you do, how can you be so in love with yourself? Tell me please cause I need help’”

I smile at my youthful innocence and say

“I was just like you in that moment I guess. Which is why I’m telling you this story.”

Wanda is already on the edge of her seat.

“She said… ‘Every time you are succeeding there’s an old man somewhere seething, and spite’s as good a reason to take his power. When you hate the body you are in, oh love, you’re acting just for him as he counts his gold and green in his ivory tower.’”

I take a sip of my drink and say

“I was being manipulated by one of my exes. And she helped me realize I didn’t even like him and I freed myself from his grasp with her help. ‘Our fear it lines his pockets love, so take that rage and bottle up and put a drop into his cup of wine. You don’t need him you don’t need me. With that poisoned bottle you’ll be free, but be damn sure you don’t mix it up with mine.’”

I smile at Wanda’s face. She’s incredibly sweet.

“What happened to the woman?”

I chuckle and say

“Well, I did exactly what she said not to do”

Wanda furrows her eyebrows and says

“What? But you’re doing what she said to do right now yes?”

I smile and say

“Partially. See. The first part I listened to yes. But the second part. I didn’t listen so good.”

Wanda tilts her head slightly and says

“What did you do?”

“I mixed my poison with hers. But not in the way you might think. I simply fell in love with her”

Her eyes widen and she’s on the edge of her seat

“What happened to her though?”

I smile and say

“We got married.”

Wanda looks shocked and she says

“You’re married?!”

I hush her and say

“Yes but not many people know. It’s to keep her safe in a way. Being an avenger is risky. I wouldn’t want the love of my life to get hurt now would I?”

Wanda shakes her head and we continue on with the night without another question.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wanda has been with the avengers for a few months now and she’s been adjusting perfectly.

She is like family to them and she is at a gala sitting next to Natasha. You were drug off by Tony to talk to people. And to pass the time Wanda says

“Tell me a story.”

Natasha raises a brow and says

“A story?”

Wanda nods her head and says

“Like. Something that has happened to you that you’ve never told someone. That has a meaning behind it I guess. I guess what I’m asking is tell me a story and give me advice as well”

Natasha smiles when she pictures the perfect memory in her head.

“I’ve got a story. A few years ago I was at a party.”

Wanda nods along

“I met a young girl with eyes so bright. She was already getting sick of life. She had this boy who was controlling her basically. Her arms were laden with his merchandise. She asked me why I no longer try and waste my time and I said ‘spite’”

With a smirk Natasha continues

“I said… ‘Cause every time you are succeeding. There’s an old man somewhere seething, and spite’s as good a reason to take his power. When you hate the body you are in, oh love, you’re acting just for him as he counts his gold and green in his ivory tower.”

Wanda furrows her eyebrows as she recognizes those words.

“‘Our fear it lines his pockets love so take that rage and bottle up and put a drop into his cup. You don’t need him you don’t need me, with that poisoned bottle you’ll be free, but be damn sure you don’t mix it up with mine.”

Wanda mumbles the last words trying to recall where she had heard it before

“Be damn sure you don’t mix it up with mine”

When she makes the connection she says

“And then you ended up marrying her!”

Natasha furrows her eyebrows in shock and she says in a hushed tone

“How did you know that?”

Wanda responds

“She told me”

“Y/n told you that we’re married? We agreed to not tell anyone without each others consent.”

Wanda shakes her head.

“She told me her point of view of that exact moment and said ‘I met a woman with lips so red. Always remember the things she said’ and I remembered that she said that she married the woman but she didn’t tell me anything else. And I put two and two together and boom baby!”

Natasha smiles and says

“You’re the first person to figure it out. It’s funny because I told her not to mix our poisons and we did”

Wanda smiles and says

“I think you work well together. Like your poisons complement each others.”

Natasha smiles and says

“Thank you. And good job at remembering the woman’s words”

She smirks and Wanda giggles.

You finally break free from the people talking to you and you immediately make your way over to Natasha and Wanda and say

“Up to no good?”

Nat turns around and says

“Actually. Wanda has something she’d like to tell you”

You look at her waiting for her to say it and she gets all shy

“Um. I know who the woman with lips so red is”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise and you say

“Nat? Did you tell her?”

Nat shakes her head and she says

“She figured it out all by herself. She’s a smart one”

You nod your head and say

“I always knew she was smarter than she let on. Congrats on being the first to find out.”

Wanda nods her head and she says

“You shouldn’t hide it. I think you would be New Yorks top power couple”

You sigh and say

“It’s for our own protection. If we were to let that out someone might use us against the other”

Wanda nods and says

“But you have each other. You know you’ll come for each other. You know every avenger would drop everything to help you”

I nod and say

“You’re right. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to soft launch”

Nat smiles and says

“Let’s do it”

I grab my ring from my necklace that keeps it there and I put it on my finger. As does Natasha and Wanda smiles and claps excitedly

“I feel like a proud sister!”

I smile and say

“Good. You are our sister.”

She smiles and says

“Slay”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo

#natasha romanoff #fanfic #marvel #avengers #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #fanfiction #black widow #mcu #wanda maximoff

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lovebugism · 2 years ago

Note

«Remembering the littlest of things — activities they like and dislike, favourite brands of stationery, go-to ice cream flavour, choice of popcorn» with lovesick eddie 🥰🥹

thanks for requesting :D i sorta wrote this as a part of the tcar universe but it can be read as a standalone fic!

summary: the one where eddie munson is the best boyfriend ever when you're feeling poorly (established relationship, hurt/comfort cw reader has a period and a history of bad boyfriends)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

You cry into your pillow like you just got your heart broken.

You didn’t, though. You’re just overtly emotional against your will and so full of love that you don’t know what to do with it.

And even though you’re weeping like a total maniac, Eddie stays at your side — rubbing up and down your back with a warm hand and trying his best not to laugh at your misplaced misery.

“I’m sorry, babe…” the boy murmurs over your sniffling. His thumb swipes soothingly over your trembling shoulder before his palm falls back down your spine again. “Didn’t mean to make you cry…”

You shake your head and swallow through a tight throat. “No, it’s not your fault,” you retort quickly, voice wet with tears. “I’m fine— I know I seem mental, but I’m fine, okay? I’m just emotional.”

Eddie fights back another laugh. You’re not looking at him, though, so he grins as big as he wants. “I know, babe. That’s why I got you ice cream. It’s supposed to help with the cramps.”

A poorly held-back sob tumbles from your mouth.

‘Cause he did get you your favorite ice cream, right after you told him you got your period. You felt too poorly to hang out, so he decided to come to you, and he didn’t waste a second. You’ve spent so long crying about it now that the carton is melting on your bedside table.

It only makes you feel worse.

Eddie winces when he fails to comfort you. “Sorry…”

“Stop being so nice to me! It’s making me sad!” you blurt, lifting your head from the pillow and looking at him over your shoulder. Your eyes are red-rimmed and glassy, your brows are twisted with agony, and your face is blotchy with the heat of your emotion.

Eddie grins. He doesn’t know how you manage to look so pretty all the time.

“Sorry,” he repeats, though his lopsided smile says otherwise. His ringed fingers dig softly into the base of your spine, where your cramps have seemingly migrated. He tilts his head and scrunches his nose. “I’d try to love you less, but I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I did.”

“Eddie!” you shout when your eyes start to burn all over again.

A chuckle spills from his rosy mouth. He’s amused by your dramatics but still obviously sympathetic of you. “Okay, that was mean… But I meant it.”

“I’m just not used to all this, you know?” you mumble, fatigued by your own tears and lingering period pains. You turn to lie down again, burying your face into your pillow with the ardency of someone wanting to melt into their mattress.

Eddie resumes his absentminded petting. “Hm?”

“My last boyfriend would barely talk to me when I was on my period. He thought it was gross,” you confess, distracting yourself from the dull discomfort in your back and abdomen by picking at the fuzz on your blanket. “I bled on his sheets once, and he wouldn’t even look at me. I think he would’ve actually broken up with me if I didn’t wash them after.”

Eddie’s chest stings with withheld anger. It’s like you’ve shoved a red-hot knife into his sternum and twisted. He doesn’t know how anybody could be anything but gentle with you.

He wishes the world had been kinder to you. He wishes your past had been easier. He hopes that maybe he can make your future worth looking forward to, though. If he can be good enough to you to make you forget about every asshole that’s screwed you over, it would’ve been worth it.

“I know it’s not good to wish death on people, so I won’t, but I hope nothing good ever happens to that asshole,” Eddie tells you, totally serious but covering his rage with a teasing inflection. “Like, I hope his pillow is always warm on both sides and that his socks are always rotated just enough to make him uncomfortable when he puts them on. Nothing serious, you know? Just enough torture to make him slowly go insane.”

You smile at him, finally. It’s weak and weighed down, wavering softly at the edges, but it’s a sincere thing you flash over your shoulder nonetheless. “I’m glad we’re on the same page,” you quip with a soft laugh.

Eddie leans down to kiss you, even though you’re still a bit weepy and sniveling. He presses his rosy mouth against your own and lingers there — an innocuous, languid peck. Your lips click softly when he pulls away.

Your glassy, doe eyes flit between both of his chocolate ones when you go silently serious. “Thanks for being so nice to me,” you murmur like you might’ve burdened him in some way.

Eddie scoffs and lies more intently at your side. Still in his day clothes and sitting over the covers, he curls in behind you. One hand props up his head, and the other spreads out on your stomach over the blanket. “Don’t thank me. I’m your boyfriend. It’s, like, my job to be nice to you— I like being nice to you.”

“I know…” you mumble as you settle into Eddie’s warmth.

You’re still getting used to that. You’ve been so conditioned to beg for love that you don’t know what to do when it lays willingly at your feet. You’ve gotten too used to being treated like shit, and now you hardly feel deserving of the barest minimum. Eddie’s so sweet to you that it makes you feel like a burden.

“Yeah, so buckle up, sweetheart,” the boy says, laughing into your ear as he noses at your hair. The sound is a honeyed, heavenly one. The breath of it fans warm against your cheek. “You got a whole fuckin’ lifetime of this shit.”

“Yeah?”

“Hell yeah. Can’t wait to be nice to you forever. It’s gonna be metal.”

A grin pulls slow at your lips. You bury it into the pillow like a giddy teenager.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #virgin!eddie munson #event: fictober!

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hyuukais · 6 months ago

Text

18. y/n's malewife cooking class

warnings: malewife jokes obvi, swearing, kinda cringe ngl

word count: 2.5k

a/n: i'm so sorry for the late update i hope ya'll still enjoy it !! i wrote like half of this while watching jjk and the other half while watching sonic so sorry if this is wack 💀

The silver steel doors loom over you, a hazy projection of yourself reflecting on their surface. Your finger trembles, hovering over the small buzzer. You’re not shivering anymore—the warmth of the lobby shaking off the last bits of cold—however, your body is wracked with nerves like you’ve never felt---A twisting, nausea-inducing tremor running a marathon along your spine.

You’ve literally met and talked to them before! This shouldn’t be an issue! But your brain has never been one to listen to rationale. Mustering the last dregs of your senses, your finger presses into the button. A short, tight buzz rings out then once again, stifling silence.

Crackles break through the small speaker. “Hello?” A voice hums.

“H-hey, kai.”

“Oh, Y/n!” His voice perks up, finding an airiness muddled in the static of the intercom. “Hold on just a sec, Taehyun’ll be down in a minute!”

The line cuts before you can respond, yet you're still caught on the sound of his voice. Even through the warped radio buzz, the sound of your name on his lips danced like sugar through your mind. His palpable excitement curled over its edges, cradling it like porcelain. Much could be found in a name and Kai seemed set on unwrapping every layer to yours. Intent on searching every nook and cranny to give it new meaning from his lips. Or, perhaps, you were suddenly in far deeper than you had initially thought.

Before you, the elevator doors part and give way to the man in its midst. Taehyun’s eyes light up as they land upon you, brows jumping and eyes curling in a bright smile. Your heartbeat thumps in your throat and those nerves tug hard at your gut.

His arm gestures widely to the space next to him. “Come on in.”

“Oh, right, of course.” You scamper onto the elevator beside him, staring down the doors as they enclose you two, alone. Avoiding Taehyun’s gaze, the reflection in the walls calls your attention. Much clearer than the one from before, their wide eyes find yours with curiosity.

How do you look? Do you look okay? Is this good enough? Is it too feminine? Or too masculine?

Behind you, a soft cough breaks the air, “Did you have any trouble getting here?”

“Hm? Oh, no, no.” You tug a stray fabric on your shirt nervously. “The train here is pretty convenient.”

“Ah, yeah.” From the corner of your eye, you catch his nod, his eyes, too, cast aside. His hands weigh down the pockets of his jeans.

A soft ding echoes through the elevator, opening the doors and interrupting your awkward conversation.

“Here we are.” Taehyun steps out of the lift, before turning back to you and motioning with his head. You follow him down the plain hallway, watching door after door pass. Finally, he stops in front of one of the nearly identical doors and knocks. Muted footsteps rush behind the door, which is quickly opened afterward.

Huening’s bright smile greets you as he moves to let you both in, “Welcome! Come on in!”

Beyond the threshold, the short foyer slows into the kitchen and living room. Cozily decorated, the large space feels full and homey, well-lived in. Slipping your shoes onto the rack by the door, you can’t help but take note of the matching keychains hanging beside the front door. Two small, plush, cartoon creatures—one vaguely cat-like and the other with one small angel wing—hang on the key rack, magnetically connected at the hands.

“Cute.” It was a thought whispered to yourself.

“What?” Taehyun peers over at you from where he is also exchanging his outside shoes. He seems to follow your line of sight, a smile growing on his cheeks. “They reminded me of Huening when I saw them. I couldn’t stop myself.”

Though a little embarrassed that he’d heard you, you can’t help but smile back. “That’s sweet.”

“Well, we had just moved in, so I thought I might as well. It’s a good way to never forget to grab your keys.”

“I bet.”

Kai looks back into the foyer at you two, “Plus, they have little squeakers in them. So cute!” Then he turns around and heads for the kitchen.

Walking into the kitchen you see the counters laid out with all your ingredients. Right across from the island is a suitable camera and stream set-up, almost ready to film. Taehyun is fiddling with one of the monitors and Hueningkai is checking for all the correct kitchen equipment. You help him make sure he has the right pans and oils as he keeps fretting over it all.

“Really, Kai, you have everything we need, I swear.”

“Okay, but–”

“No, please,” You hesitate, then place a comforting hand on his arm with a smile. “I keep saying, and I guess I’ll probably have to until I die, but…you two have done practically everything for this. It’s perfect, all of it. I promise.”

His shoulders soften under your touch along with his eyes. Gaze shifting over you, leaving a warmth in its wake blooming under the skin, he sighs. “Yeah, okay.” However, in just a second, he jerks away, startling you. “Wait! I almost forgot…”

He scurries down the hall off the kitchen. You hear a door click and squeak and presume he may be a minute or two. Turning to Taehyun, still adjusting the set-up, you walk to his side.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Um…yeah. We’ve got about fifteen minutes and, since we’re streaming from your account, could you set that up?” He points to the monitor beside him.

“Yup!” It’s already open to the platform so you type in your credentials and make sure everything is right. “There you go. So…what do we want to name it?”

“Well, it’s your stream…”

Your head tilts in thought, digging deep for something to perfectly encapsulate the experience ahead. Collabs were rare for you beyond your standard friend group, so this was special—in more ways than one. It had to feel right.

“What about—”

“I got the aprons!” Hueningkai comes sliding back into the room, three fabric pieces draped over his arm—you can almost see Walter White's head peeking over the folds. He seems to assess the interrupted atmosphere, “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“I was just thinking…how do we feel about calling the stream ‘Y/n’s Malewife Cooking Class’?” You give the title a lovely flourish with your hands.

Taehyun erupts beside you with a soft laugh along with Kai. The latter makes his way over, passing over your white apron, still chuckling at your suggestion.

“That sounds amazing.”

Tying his apron behind his back, Taehyun sports a hearty smile while asking, “Does that mean we’re malewives?”

“I mean, maybe. Anyone can be a malewife. Malewife is a mindset, y’know?”

Kai laughs boisterously—a heavy, hearty sound—before continuing, “Well then, I’m ready to become the malewife I was always meant to be!”

You start the stream as energetic as usual, watching views and comments flood in. Each of you happily shows off your aprons and greets the viewers Kai and Taehyun had both posted to their socials alerting their audiences to their presence; the view count has practically doubled in size from the number you alone tend to pull in. It’s almost nerve-wracking, but you keep up your on-camera attitude well.

Leading the men through the steps of your recipe, you three slip back and forth around the kitchen. Huening, claiming his cooking ineptitude, mostly tasked himself with gathering and measuring out the ingredients. He listened quite diligently as you told him what was next. Taehyun was more hands-on in his assistance and proved to be very skilled as he moved around the kitchen. However, when you had him dice some of the cabbage, you lent a hand with his technique.

Without thinking, you step up behind Taehyun and carefully stretch your arms around his back. Glancing up for some confirmation that this touch was okay, you caught the twinkle dancing over his eyes and took his smile as an okay. You placed your hands over his, slowly guiding them through the correct cutting method. His skin ran warm beneath your touch with roughened skin—your hand brushing over the long-built calluses. Taehyun quickly understood, hands picking up the motion on their own. Reluctantly, you let him go, finally processing the proximity. Your body floods with inextinguishable fire as you swiftly move away.

Still, it followed you. Later when you had gone to wash a spoon that still had small bits of food on it to reuse it. Once again, you didn’t think before doing so, until a blast of water sprayed back up at you. Coating flecks of water over your face and, though the apron caught quite a bit of it, it soaked through to your shirt.

“Shit! I–I didn’t think that through.” You try to laugh off the increasingly uncomfortable feeling sticking to your chest.

Kai turns from assisting Taehyun with filling the dumplings, eyes widening at your doused front. “Oh! Hold on, I can–”

“No, no, Kai it’s–”

“I’ll be right back.” He runs off before you can finish speaking, back down the hallway. A heavy sigh leaves you and your fingers work at the apron tie to relieve some of the wet fabric from your body. After it’s off you try patting off the stain with paper towels. That helps but it’s not the best. Luckily, Kai returns quickly with a sweatshirt in hand.

He holds it out to you, smiling, “Here. Just to cover it if you’d like.”

“Uh–thank you.” Hesitantly, you take hold of the fabric, eying it like it may explode. There it is again. That raging flame in the pit of your stomach—filling up your gut, running all through your veins.

You shrug on the hoodie, brushing the soft fabric. As it settles over your shoulders, you catch the clean mix of vanilla and sandalwood lingering in the stitching. The fire pushes at your heart as the scent mingles in your head. You want to sink into it, swim in it, live in it forever.

You shake away the fog in your senses and return into view of the camera, ready to keep going.

Most of the rest of the stream goes off without a hitch, minus a few minor incidents. As you go, there’s this undeniable energy between you three. Something easy to fall into. You connect in an almost subconscious way; coming about as naturally as breathing. They are so easy to fall for.

The first batch of dumplings finished in near-perfect condition. Huening took one, fresh out of the pan, to try; biting in despite the steam radiating from it. You watch intently as he chews through the heat before a sharp hum rumbles up his throat.

“That’s so good!” His words get mumbled by the food and the hand blocking his mouth. “God, and hot!”

Kai desperately fans his mouth. You and Taehyun can’t help laughing even as Taehyun goes to get the man a cup of water. He accepts it gratefully and begins chugging it down. Taking Kai’s mishap to mind, Taehyun diligently blows on the dumpling he’s picked up before taking a bite. He too lets out a soft moan as the taste coats his tongue.

Looking between the two of them, “It’s good?”

Tae nods excitedly, still chewing, and Kai sets down his water to give two thumbs up to the camera.

“Well then, I’m proud to announce that you two are officially one step closer to becoming true malewives.”

That sends out another round of giggles, infecting one after the other with the giddy little sound. Their laughs bounce against the counters and light-colored tile in a disjunct harmony; a melody stirring up inside your chest. There couldn’t be one without the other, for there would be no song at all. The feeling now pounding in your chest was incomplete alone; your rapidly beating heart came in two inseparable parts. Those two pieces stand before you in the bliss of their laughter.

The notion swoops in quickly from the back of your mind, stuttering as you work to tie your apron. You can’t acknowledge the thought as it passes, instead shoving it away to settle your heart. You can’t unpack that when you’re standing in their kitchen, surrounded by the essence of them.

“Well, chat!” You avert your eyes to the tablet set up on the counter with the chat box. “Did we all have fun? I know I did!”

“So did we!” Huening leans on the counter beside you, cheeks spilled with an eye-curling smile—gums on bright display. “I’m really liking this whole malewife mindset.”

“Me too.” Taehyun stands on your other side with his own bright smile, a picture of overwhelming sweetness despite how his rolled-up sleeves reveal the muscles along his arms. “Maybe I’ll retire and pursue this full-time.”

“But if I’m the malewife and you’re also malewife then who’s the female-husband?” Kai jokes.

“That can be the next collab. Y/n’s female-husband—uh…I don’t know, guide to getting a job?”

“Saying that while we are all employed and currently doing our job is kind of crazy.” Taehyun rests his elbows on the counter and glances over at you.

“This wasn’t work, this was just an excuse so I could come to your house and steal your dirty socks. I’ve got a small business to keep running.”

“Okay, you’re getting kicked out.” He jokingly wraps an arm around your waist to start dragging you out of frame. Your skin burns at the fleeting touch, the weight hovering over your skin through the thin fabric. He lets go all too soon to walk over to the monitor. Kai watches on happily, giggling while reciting your usual outro and his own as Taehyun ends the stream.

“Yippee, we did it!” Huening runs around the counter to give his friend a solid high-five.

“Thank you both, so much. This was amazing.”Doused in uncontrollable flames, your heart hammers in your chest under the weight of your thoughts. Your hands wring with nerves. “Thank you for inviting me to your home and, just, doing everything, really.”

“Thank you for coming!” Kai grins.

“And, for future reference, you’re always welcome here,” Taehyun adds.

“Right.” You turn away from them, back towards the small mess along the counters, Well–uh–it’s pretty late so we should probably clean up and I can head out. Oh! And so I don’t forget—” Your arms retract into the baggy sleeves of the hoodie Kai had lent, slowly taking it off.

“No, keep it! I can just get it from you next time.”

“Oh, okay.” The jumper rests back on your body. That sweet scent surrounds you once again. The flames in your body jump and dance over your chest and you can’t help the small grin that grows as you begin to clean.

Next time. They want a ‘next time.’

WHAT YOU DESERVE

: ̗̀➛ Y/n is beloved by thousands on the internet, being a popular streamer. However, they’ve never been able to find nearly as much affection in their love life, despite searching for years. Just when they’re close to giving up on love all together, they suddenly find their romantic prospects on an upturn.

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dasiesanddarkness · 17 days ago

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i have writer’s block like crazy right now so the next chapter of tgoym likely will not be done anytime soon (im sorry😭) so have this short little thing i wrote forever ago instead featuring wesper as dads (cw: references to past abuse, ableism and internalized ableism):

“Get out.”

The ice cold tone to Wylan’s voice was not an entirely unfamiliar one. Jesper had heard it before, though not often. He was lucky enough to have never been on the receiving end of it, but he’d watched others suffer more than once.

“What? Mister Van Eck-”

“Councilman.”

“Excuse me?”

Wylan’s eyes were hard. Jesper was glad he’d had Namazzi take Hendrik out of the room to go play, because he wasn’t sure how either of them would react to seeing their da like this.

“Councilman Van Eck.”

Their former tutor looked baffled. Jesper would have felt bad for her in any other circumstance.

“Councilman Van Eck, I don’t think you understand-”

“You are no longer welcome here. I suggest you leave before I get the Stadwatch involved.”

“Councilman, if you would just listen to me! I really do think the best path for treatment-”

“Get out of my home. I do not like repeating myself.”

“The contract-”

“The contract stopped mattering the second you decided my son was broken. You will receive one final payment, and I suggest you use it for a career change. Now, you may walk out of here on your own two feet or with my guard dragging you by your hair. This is your last chance to decide which you’d prefer.”

Sheepishly, the woman turned to leave. Finally, she seemed to have gotten the message. Jesper watched as Seda, their housekeeper, escorted her out of the room and shut the door gently behind them. The second they were alone, Wylan exhaled loudly.

“Ghezen’s fucking works, that woman.” He dragged a hand through his hair, exhaustion and frustration clear in the gesture. “If she had taken any longer I would've thrown her out the window myself.”

Jesper laughed quietly. “I would’ve paid to see that.”

It was quiet. Jesper could see the swirl of emotions flitting across his husband’s face and the whirlwind of thoughts running through his head. “Saints, I hope Hendrik is okay. He actually liked her, I can’t believe-”

“Wylan.”

“Hm?”

“How are you doing?” The confusion on his face was evident. Jesper wasn’t at all surprised that Wylan hadn’t even considered how this shitty situation might have affected him. “It can’t have been easy on you, Wy.”

Wylan blinked. “Well, no, but Hendrik is more important. It’s his tutor, how it made me feel doesn’t matter right now,” he said. Jesper rubbed his shoulder.

“Yes it does, love. You can’t help him if you aren’t okay. He and Namazzi are playing now, he’ll be fine for a few minutes while we work through what you think of all this,” he insisted. Wylan sighed. Jesper looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something. After several moments, Wylan sat down heavily and sighed.

“I’m glad I can protect him,” he started. “I’m so glad that I can be there for him and protect him from the skivs like her that think there’s something wrong with him.”

“But?”

“It’s like… I see how easy it is, now. It’s so simple to just tell them to leave and start over. It’s like I was holding onto this belief that maybe I just didn’t understand because I wasn’t a father, but I am, now. And I see that it couldn’t have come from a place of love, because I love Hendrik so much and because of that I could never let him go through those awful treatments.” Jesper didn’t say anything. He could tell there was more, and Wylan was just trying to find the words for it. “People have told me that it wasn’t love, and I knew logically that it wasn’t love, but I was still… hoping, I guess. That I was wrong and he did love me. And it’s so stupid, because he’s so awful and I hate him more than anything, but there’s this part of me that still wishes he cared, even though I should be over it by now.” He was slumped against the back seat, staring at the far wall. Jesper touched his hand, and Wylan laced their fingers together immediately. When Jesper started to rub his thumb gently along his skin, he looked down at their hands and squeezed.

“It’s not stupid,” said Jesper. “Your feelings are not stupid, Wy. You have every right to feel the way you do.”

“I know.” Wylan sighed. “I know, I know, you’ve said it a million times, I know.”

“And I will say it a million more,” Jesper promised. “You’re a great da, Wylan. Hendrik and Namazzi are so lucky to have you there to protect them. I am so lucky to have you here to help me do what’s best for them.” Wylan smiled up at him, and his face seemed a little clearer. He reached up and cupped his cheek to pull him down for a gentle kiss, and Jesper smiled into it.

“Thanks, Jes,” he whispered.

“Anytime, sunshine.”

#angst! yay!#fluff! also yay!#wylan van eck #wylan hendriks #jesper fahey #wylan x jesper #wesper #wesper kid #wesper fanfiction #wesper fic #six of crows #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone tv

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ihavethedreamiesx · 1 year ago

Text

First Kisses | NCT 127

NCT 127 - All Members

Rating: E for Everyone

Word Count: About 300 for each, so about 2.2k total

Pairing: NCT 127 x GN!Reader (Separate)

Genre: Reader-Insert, Drabble, Fluff

Summary: Your first kiss with each member of NCT 127!

Author's Note: I have never wrote drabble-length things before, so I am proud of myself I kept these so short.

I tried to keep these gender-neutral, so let me know if I didn't, but it might still be slightly implied in these the reader is AFAB, I don't think so though…

PS. Mark's and Haechan's are different from the ones for Dream…

Revised (1/30/25)

-> NCT Dream <-

-> WayV <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

Taeyong

You chew lazily on a strand of licorice, chest pressed to the back of the chair Taeyong stole from Doyoung's room. While you’re by no means a noob when it comes to video games, you know little about battle royale shooters. However, Taeyong wants you to watch while he plays. You don't mind; you constantly watch YouTube gamers, but not games like that. Not really caring about what he is doing, you find your gaze drifting to his face. He really is so freaking gorgeous… "Did you see that?" His question snaps you out of your daze, and you quickly look back at the screen. Replying with a vague hum in agreement, the pause menu flashes over his screen. "You okay?" Taeyong turns to you fully, looking over your face. "Y-yeah, why?" "You're really quiet today; you normally comment more." "Oh, yeah, just…thinking." "About what?" His foot rests on the base of your chair, pulling it closer, only the backrest between you two. His concerned look has morphed into something more playful. You lick your lips, trying to think of a lie, not anything about how hot he is. You try not to reel back when he brings his face closer. Why is your friend so- "Thinking about kissing me?" He smirks and your face erupts into a blush. You nearly go cross-eyed when he leans in, "Hm?" You take the chance, closing the distance, softly pressing your lips to his. He smiles against it, kissing you back, deepening it. When you separate, his fond smile floors you. "Been thinking about that awhile."

Johnny

You can feel his eyes on you, but you choose not to acknowledge it. Continuing to chop up the various ingredients for the fried rice you’re preparing, his eyes follow. But he’s not watching what you’re doing; Johnny is staring at your face. Why? You’re not sure. "Everything okay?" you finally ask him. "Yeah, why?" He rests his chin on his palm. "You're staring. Again." "You're just so pretty." Johnny smiles. It isn't his 'I'm sexy and I know it' smile; it’s warm and soft. Like when he sees a puppy; it’s pure. That's what throws you off. To the point that you halt all action, paddle held over the steaming rice in the cooker. "Huh?" "You're beautiful." He has no room to talk. "Is that why you've been staring at me?" "Of course." You balk at his response. Your friend is an amazing flirt, but that isn't what he’s doing. He says it like he’s informing you of something you should already know. "You think I'm beautiful?" You put the rice paddle down. Johnny sighs dramatically, getting up off the stool, coming around the counter to your side. He cups your cheek in his big hand, and before you can question him further, he leans down and kisses you. Johnny swallows your gasp, deepening the kiss. You gape at him when he pulls away. "(Y/N), you're the most beautiful person I have ever seen." He has no room to talk.

Yuta

Your eyes flutter open, trying to recognize where you are. The TV is on, the sequel to the movie you had put on playing. Still trying to form a coherent thought, you hear a soft grumble behind you, an arm wrapping tighter around your middle. This sensation brings a flood of recognition over your mind, realizing you’re in Yuta's living room. You must’ve fallen asleep together on the couch. You startle when you feel him sigh behind you, his warm breath ruffling the hair on the back of your neck. The arm of his you are laying on moves under your head as he brings his hand up. Yuta's hand rests on your forehead, which he uses to pull you back into him more along with the arm around your waist. "It's late, just stay the night here." His voice is rough from sleeping. Are you two dating? Pretty much. But sleeping over? You haven't even kissed yet, still transitioning from friends to something more. "Stay over? We haven't even kissed yet." You huff, letting out a nervous chuckle. Yuta hums in response, then your view of the room spins as he rolls you to face him. You barely get to see his cocky, smug grin before he closes the distance, lips sealing over yours. When Yuta pulls back, you whine in protest, making him chuckle. "There, now you can stay over."

Doyoung

You shuffle out of your room, rubbing sleep out of your eyes. The morning light shines into your room but has no access to your living room, keeping it dark. Your guest is still asleep, wrapped in your spare comforter on your couch. Smiling to yourself, you pad softly toward him, sitting on the floor to get a better view. It was late after you two finished your dinner and movie date, so you let Doyoung stay the night. Ever the gentleman, he insists on the couch. You smile, only his face is visible out of the blanket cocoon. So cute. You feel a bit like a creep, just watching him sleep, but he is just too precious. Gently, you brush some errant hairs from his forehead, looking at every detail of his face. Flinching back when he groans a bit, you hold your breath, worried you have woken him. "(Y/N)?" His voice is quiet, eyes still closed, you don't know if he is still asleep or not. "Yes?" You whisper in reply. When he doesn't respond back, you assume he is still asleep, or has fallen back to sleep. Carefully getting up so you can let him continue, you yelp dramatically when his hand grabs yours, yanking you down onto the couch with him. He sits up as he pulls you down, so you end up in his lap. Doyoung wraps his arms around you, laying his head on your shoulder, cheek on your collarbone. "Morning, precious." You kiss the crown of his head. He pulls back after this, frowning slightly. Before you can ask him what’s wrong, he clicks his tongue, kissing you back, but on the lips instead. When he retreats, he flashes a sleepy grin. "Morning, love."

Jaehyun

Slamming the door to your car, you sit back in the seat with a huff, fuming. You thought girls bullying other people over boys stops in high school, yet here you are, in college. You know about Jaehyun's not so little fan-club but have been able to avoid them. But they’ve learned that not only are you two friends, there’s also something more going on as well. God forbid they learn how long it’s been going on. Not wanting to drive while angry, you just sit in your car. You jump when your phone starts to ring through the car speaker when you start it. "Hey." Your voice is obviously strained. "Where are you?" Jaehyun sounds out of breath. "In my car-" "Don't go anywhere." He hangs up. You blink in shock at the call-ended flashing on the screen. Your attention is pulled away by someone knocking on the window. It’s some girl, and two others are behind her, arms crossed. You sigh, rolling the window down just enough. "You're (Y/N)?" You hum and she scoffs. "You need to leave Jaehyun alone-" "And you need to leave." You sigh as he arrives, opening the passenger side door. After he’s seated, you pull out of the parking spot, leaving the girls gaping. Neither of you say anything till you park again at your apartment complex. He takes your hand in his, "I'm sorry." You meet his guilty gaze, then shake your head. "It's not your fault." He strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. Instead of replying, he leans over the center console, capturing your lips with his. You smile when he pulls back, "do that again and we'll call it even." So, he does.

Jungwoo

The show playing is one you’ve seen many times before, but since Jungwoo never has, you’re rewatching it with him. Your elbow is rested on the armrest of the couch, cheek resting on your fist. Your other hand strokes Jungwoo's soft hair as he lies on your lap. He’s getting over being sick, but since you’re the one who gave him the cold, you don't mind him being all over you. He’s normally clingy, let alone if he doesn't feel good, like a small child. It’s fine to you though; he’s too cute to not let him get away with just about anything. "(Y/N?)" His soft voice is still a bit nasally. "Yes?" "I'm sorry I ruined our first date…" "What do you mean?" Your hand halts, looking down at him. He rolls over so he is lying on his back, letting him look up at you. "I nearly passed out when we were walking to the restaurant…" He drifts off, fingers coming up to nervously fiddle with your hoodie string. "Jungwoo, you had a fever, it's fine." You huff, shocked that he feels guilty about that. You’re the one that got him sick. "Still… We finally decided to go for it, then…" "Jungwoo-" He continues to ramble, apologizing, and complaining about himself. It is getting on your nerves; there is no reason for him to feel so bad. Wanting him to stop, you lean down, lips briefly pressing to his still moving ones. You sit back up straight, face pink from the act. His is as well, but it already is from the cold he has. You flinch when his hand rests on your cheek, pulling you back down. "I can’t give this cold back to you, right~?"

Mark

"Can I get this?" Mark asks, coming up to you with a frozen cheesecake. You glance at it, not liking that he asks you as if you are his parent. "Sure? Why are you asking?" You shake your head as he puts the dessert in the cart. "J-just making sure." You roll your eyes, continuing down the aisle, glancing at your shopping list to make sure you get everything for the meal you’re going to prepare. Having to buy enough food to feed eight ravenous young men is a little pricey, but everyone agrees to split the cost and send you the money, so it doesn't matter what extra stuff Mark wants. As you traverse the next aisle, you notice his gaze focuses on something on the shelf. He halts in front of it, so you turn to look at it. It is a candy necklace kit. "Let's do this!" He grabs it and you chuckle, nodding for him to put it in the cart. "B-but just us…" He adds and you raise your eyebrow. "Just us?" "Not the others. We can just make them for each other after they leave…" "You want to make me a necklace?" You tease, the tips of his ears turning red, his characteristic laugh leaving his lips. "Yeah… and I don't want you to eat it or take it off!" Mark's determined look goes to your face, and you have a hard time not guffawing. "Okay, Mark." "I'm serious, don't take it off." He reiterates as you get in the car to head back to your place, the box in his hands. "I won't." "Promise?" He holds out his pinky and you shake your head but complete the hand motion. Before you can pull your hand back though, he uses your linked pinkies to haul you closer over the console, gently pressing his lips to yours. You sit back slowly, gaping at him, face equally as red. He raises an eyebrow.

Haechan

"I'm getting tired of this, (Y/N)." Donghyuck huffs at your side, and you tilt your head, confused. When he notices your glance, he sighs, stopping. Holding your linked hands up between you two so they are in front of your face, he sighs again. "This is about as far as we've gone." You look around, wondering what the hell he is going on about; you’re only halfway to his place. "This, (Y/N)." He shakes your hands to draw your attention there. "What do you mean?" "We've only held hands! You've kissed my cheek and that’s about it! I'm tired of it!" If it wasn't for the silly whine of his voice, you would think him genuinely upset. "What are you getting at?" You continue your questions, and he groans; you’re very smart for being so dense. "Kisses! I want you to kiss me!" Donghyuck whines louder, it nearly echoes off the stone walls of the back road you are walking. His frustration takes you aback. "Why do I have to initiate?" You nearly shout, annoyed with his dramatics. He immediately quiets, blinking at you, so very pretty- "Fine!" He yells back and hauls you even closer with your linked hands, his soft lips touching your chapped ones. As soon as he tastes the lip balm you had put on just minutes earlier, he groans and deepens the kiss. You squeak a bit when your back hits the stone wall, trying to match his pace, but he is fervent. When he finally steps back, you are almost panting. He nods with a satisfied look and continues on with your walk like he hasn't just swallowed your tongue.

-> NCT Dream <-

-> WayV <-

Master-List

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