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barcaatthemoon · 2 days

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going down || jenni hermoso x reader ||

jenni surprises you at your first game as a coach.

minors dni, 18+

the game had been a close one. for your first one as a coach, it went better than you had expected. after the game, when you gave your interview, you noticed a familiar face sitting in the stands. most of the fans had dispersed already, so you knew that it had to be jenni waiting there for you.

it had been a few weeks since you had seen jenni last. the last time you had seen her was at your apartment in calgary before you packed things up. you didn't necessarily want to end your career so early, but you wanted to be closer to jenni, and your injuries were becoming more and more frequent. you came from a family of athletes, and you knew how hard hockey could be on the body when you got older.

"it is weird seeing you out of the uniform," jenni said as she wrapped her arms around the back of your neck. you smiled as you leaned into the kiss. "i am just glad that i made it to your opener. a successful start, i told you that you had nothing to worry about."

"yeah, i guess you did," you said sheepishly. "come on, let's get out of here and celebrate."

"lead the way." jenni stepped behind you and grabbed onto your hand. you walked her out of the arena and out to the parking lot. both of you seemed to have the same idea once you were alone, and you turned just as jenni placed her hand on the back of your head. this kiss wasn't gentle and sweet like the one inside of the arena had been.

jenni jumped into your arms, allowing you to support her completely. you could feel jenni begin to rub against you as you leaned her against the car door. jenni was always wildly turned on whenever you showed your physical strength. in public, she'd always deny it, but jenni liked it whenever you got a little rough with her or tossed her around.

"jenni, we have to go home. what if one of my players came out here?" you tried to pry jenni off of you, but she only clung harder.

"come on, where did that show off from montreal go?" jenni teased. you clenched your jaw, not liking that she was very obviously challenging you. "did texas really change you that much? why get a truck so big if you aren't going to fuck me in the back of it?"

"jesus christ," you mumbled as you stepped back and opened up one of the doors for the backseat. jenni smirked as she was set into the seat. "god please don't let us get caught."

"thank you for this. do you know how crazy i felt sitting there watching you all game?" jenni asked. you recognized her tone of voice immediately as the one she used whenever she wanted you to take over. it was very much on short notice, but you knew what you wanted from jenni, and what would satisfy her long enough for you to get home.

it wasn't quite a quickie in the car, but you hated having to rush through things. you joined her in the backseat of your truck and pulled her onto your lap. you grabbed a fistful of her hair to hold her in place as you kissed along her neck and used your other hand to undress her a bit. you didn't need jenni completely naked, but she definitely had to remove a few layers.

"god, you are so fucking hot," you mumbled against jenni's skin. you let your mouth latch onto one of her nipples. jenni let her hand come up to attend to the other one, much more interested in letting your free hand continue on its path between her legs.

"c-can i touch you?" jenni asked. you pulled your head back a bit to look at her. she was staring down at you as she bit her lip. her hips were rocking back and forth as she tried to seek out the friction your fingers would bring. instead, you kept her just far away enough to continue seeking it out. "please."

"since you asked so nicely." you were teasing, both you and jenni knew it. however, there was nothing she would do about that. jenni herself was usually a huge tease. it was honestly a minor miracle that she didn't try to distract you during your post-game interview.

jenni's hands quickly moved in between both of your bodies. she ran her fingertips along the muscles in your abdomen that jenni knew was there. you let out a small chuckle at the slightly ticklish sensation of her fingers moving against your skin through your shirt.

you shifted slightly beneath her, just enough to lay back a bit more in the seat. jenni's eyes lit up as she noticed the position you were taking. nights like this were few and far between. you preferred to have jenni laid out somewhere nice, but it was obvious that she wanted you in the moment. there was no use in forcing yourself to hold off, not when you could both get what you wanted immediately.

"hands on the window babe," you instructed. jenni didn't need that bit of instruction at all. she hastily began to shed her pants as she shimmied to hover above your face. you didn't let her drop down until her hands were resting against the window as a brace. staring up at her cunt, you licked your lips in anticipation. "good girl. now, keep quiet or i'll have to stop. do you understand?"

"si, silento," jenni answered. you hummed appreciatively and rewarded her with a slow lick of your tongue through her folds. jenni found herself spreading her legs even more as she tried to find your tongue again. you let out a low chuckle, letting the vibrations move along her inner thigh. "jesus christ. please baby, don't tease."

"i would never tease you, not when i have you like this," you promised her. if jenni was skeptical, she kept it to herself. you grabbed onto her hips and pulled her flush against your face. while your tongue lapped at jenni's entrance, her clit rubbed agaisnt your nose. jenni stayed still, only allowing herself to be moved by you.

there was normally a bit more of a balance between the two of you, but you both knew to relish in the unbalanced nights. it was nice when one of you took over, alleviating the stress of the other. all either of you wanted was to make the other feel good, and if the way that jenni was biting her lip to keep herself from screaming your name was any sign, you were doing your job.

"i'm so close," jenni whimpered. you reached up and took her hands in your own. jenni kept quiet, but still watched curiously as you placed her hands in your own hair. jenni could move a bit more, and you laid back and watched her ride your face to chase afer her orgasm.

some nights jenni came like a tsunami, threatening to drown everything in her path. other nights, the only tell was the way she pulled you from between her legs and clung to your body. tonight, you felt like jenni was somewhere in between. she was still quiet, but you could feel her gush onto your chin a little. it was more than the steady drip of her arousal that you were used to, but you welcomed it openly. you basked in the taste of jenni's cum like it was the nectar of the gods, reserved for you and you only.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso smut #jenni hermoso smut #jenni hermoso imagine #jenni hermoso x reader #minors dni #minors do not interact

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kaces-graham-crackers · 1 day

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Stirring the Quiet - Sweet Mistakes

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: In the bustling streets of Hollywood, The Daily Grind café offers solace to those seeking peace -- famous or not. Y/N, co-owner of the cozy shop, wasn't expecting a masked Jenna Ortega, a regular, hiding in plain sight. Is it just you, or did the spilled sugar not turn out to be the only thing that sweetened your day?

Word Count: 1.1k

The smell of espresso hit me like a warm hug the second I opened the door to The Daily Grind. We'd only been open for three weeks, but the place already felt like my second home. Wilma, my best friend and now business partner, had really nailed it with the cozy vibe -- a mix of warm lighting and cushy chairs that practically begged you to sit down and spill your deepest secrets into a cup of coffee. We were doing pretty well for ourselves. A lot of it had to do with how we ran things. We prided ourselves on being a low-key spot where even the biggesr stars could come in and out without anyone batting an eye. No paparazzi, No instagram Stans, just people -- famous or not trying to enjoy their coffee.

We've had a few people challenge our "No photos, videos, or interrupting other customers of any caliber." rule -- a sign clearly displayed at the top of the menu and outside the café. The moment a camera was raised, we'd calmly walk over and politely ask them to leave. If that didn't work, we had a quiet agreement with the boutique's security guard next door -- one glare from him, and they usually scurried off. Our café was a sanctuary, and no one would ruin that for our customers. After all, our motto was "We serve coffee, not fame. Take a sip." Today had been like any other day: customers trickling in, ordering their usual, and leaving with smiles. But something was different tonight. Maybe it was the way the door chimed a little softer than usual or the quick sound of shuffling footsteps. I didn't look up right away, as I was too busy balancing a stack of to-go cups while trying not to trip over that corner of the rug that always seemed to curl up, which, let's be honest, was my usual struggle. But I felt it -- a shift in the atmosphere. Someone was trying way too hard not to be noticed. I peeked over my shoulder just in time to catch a figure in a hoodie, sunglasses, and a face mask slipping into the booth in the back corner.

I chuckled lightly, nearly knocking over the cups I had stacked. Of course, someone who tried not to stand out only made them stand out more. But hey, this was Hollywood; people like to stay incognito. I walked up beside Wilma as she finished giving a customer their order. She was also watching the spectacle; Wilma leaned in, wiping her hands on a towel. "That hoodie's been here three times this week. Any hunch who it could be?" We, of course, leave celebrities alone here, but we like to talk between ourselves to try and figure out who it is. I shake my head. "No, but they're definitely someone. No one hides like that unless they're trying not to be recognized." Wilma smirked. "Duh -- You can tell by how they keep looking over their shoulder." Our eyes met, and she gave me a knowing look. Her smirk grew into a giant grin. "Your turn, mascot," she said, tossing her towel over her shoulder as she walked away. I blinked, confused. "Wait, what? What is that supposed to mean?" She stopped briefly. "Maybe you'll have better luck talking to them. After all, you are the people's favorite barista and a great icebreaker. She looks anxious, so work your little charisma magic." And with that, she disappeared into the back, leaving me staring at the mysterious figure, wondering how I'd gotten roped into this.

As I walked over, I flipped to a new page in my notepad and repeated my mantra when serving customers: Treat everyone the same, whether they're the guy from down the street or some A-lister hiding from the world. No fuss, no fanfare. I tried to stay calm not to scare them out of the café. There was no need to be weird or awkward about it I'm just going to -- oh. As I slid up to the table, I managed to knock over the sugar container. Smooth, Y/N. Real smooth. With a quick glance, I crouched down to pick it up, hoping I hadn't drawn attention to either of us. When I stood back up, the figure in the hoodie had their head down, but I could feel them watching me. Great, now I spooked them. "Uh, sorry about that," I chuckled nervously, brushing the sugar off my apron. "That usually only happens on Wednesdays, more than I'd like to admit." A soft giggle escaped from under the mask. Before I could attempt to piece the giggle to a voice she pulled down her mask just enough for me to see her face.

Jenna Ortega.

I blinked, not sure why my brain of all times decided to short-circuit now.

Jenna -- freakin' -- Ortega was sitting in my café, laughing at my stupid joke.

"Don't worry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've seen worse." I swallowed, trying to play it cool, even though my hands were suddenly very sweaty. "Uh, yeah, sorry about that. I wasn't expecting..." I trailed off, realizing how dumb I sounded. I mean, who was I expecting? Jenna looked around cautiously, lowering her mask completely once she realized no one had recognized her. "I just...needed to get away for a bit. You guys are pretty discreet." I nodded, my heart still racing. "Yeah, absolutely. This is a judgment-free zone. No one here will treat you like, you know...you." A soft smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and I tried not to stare. "Good. I could use a place like that right now." "Well, you found it," I said, sending her a warm smile. "Is the other barista not here today?" she asked, fumbling with the strings of her hoodie. "Wilma? Yeah, she's hiding in the back. I can go get her if you'd like?" she softly cleared her throat, "No, that's alright, she just knows my usual." "Well, I promise not to screw it up." I smiled, flipping back to a blank notepad page. "Alright, I'll hold you to that. I'll have an iced coffee with caramel and whipped cream." She smiled back at me. I nodded, jotting it down and turning back to the counter. "Coming right up." As I worked on her drink, I couldn't help but glance back over. There she was, sitting quietly, reading a book with her headphones around her neck, looking a lot more calm. Just another person needing some space and quiet in a world of phones, lights, and cameras 24/7. It felt great that our little café was something special for people. Not just because of the stars who might show up but because we somehow created a space where people could just be. And that? That was worth all the spilled sugar in the world.

#jenna ortega x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #x y/n

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scribblestatic · 2 days

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*checks the notes*

Oh, this one's a banger, I see. Well, let's continue it then.

Part 1 here

---

Shen Yuan inherits Shen Jiu's somewhat broken cultivation base. However, he's got different stressors, and the heart demons don't hit the same. So, surprise surprise, he's able to bring out some of Shen Jiu's cultivation in ways the OG couldn't.

For example, it takes a bit, but Shen Yuan learns the very delicate method of using qi to turn pages. Which, honestly, he didn't think was particularly impressive, but Luo Binghe recognizes it for the absolute skill it is.

Since Shen Yuan confessed to growing up in a world without qi or cultivation that he was aware of, he'd never felt qi before. Yet, within a few weeks of being in his world (after Luo Binghe carefully fed him until his hair stopped breaking off and his ribs stopped showing), he was doing the very delicate work of minute movements with qi.

Shen Yuan's also learning how to write with ink and qi, using the qi to move the brush around. His writing is...incredibly sloppy at first, but the more he practices, the better he gets. It's even legible now, and very slowly easing its way into being elegant!

Other movements, like catching water pitchers before they fall and carefully moving a cup to his mouth are a tad more difficult, especially the heavier the object is. Like muscles that haven't been moved in a while, he has to work to improve, and he throws himself wholeheartedly into it. Even if he's sweating from exertion, he keeps it up until he gives himself a migraine and has to be coddled for a while after.

That said, he can't move himself around. As in, Shen Yuan cannot use his qi to float quite yet. So, in theory, he should have an attendant to carry him around.

However, Luo Binghe is also loathe to let anyone else move him. So, of course, that means Shen Yuan spends almost all of his waking hours by the Demon Emperor's side.

At first, Luo Binghe barely let him leave the room, too anxious about losing his 'nice shizun' to someone else's machinations when they just started getting to know each other more (knowing each other in ways he never got to with many of his wives). And, well, he won't lie. He likes being the one A'Yuan relies on the most for his daily care, even if he does feel regret while using his blood mites to fend off his many little pains all over his body as he heals.

When some of the more vindictive wives see Shen Yuan as a threat to their position, they start trying to send little assassins in Luo Binghe's absence, but he's super safe in Binghe's quarters, able to wiggle around on his bed or fall on soft pillows if he manages to roll off the mattress and onto the floor. Every bit of food that enters his room is heavily regulated, and his walls are warded up to the nines.

After the first three wives face execution, the assassination attempts petter off. They reduce further once Luo Binghe starts carrying Shen Yuan around.

Shen Yuan's robes are made with full legs and arms in mind, so a good bit of them remain floppy and unfilled by any limbs. However, they fit his torso, what remains of his limbs, and his quite lovely face nicely. Moreover, Luo Binghe always carries Shen Yuan like he's precious despite the disability he forced on his body. When he has to set him down, it's always on a soft pillow seat...or his lap, as they get to know each other further.

After all, while Shen Yuan did think himself straight, he could admit that Luo Binghe was beyond the limitations of gender attraction. Of course Binghe was more handsome than anyone else in the world, even when he wasn't at his healthiest. As he grows healthier, it's like the man's practically glowing! How could he not be attracted to that, ha? He's only half blind!

As far as Luo Binghe being attracted to him though, well, that takes some time to convince him. After all, he doesn't see himself as very attractive.

For one, he's a man. But, well, Luo Binghe expressed that he didn't really mind men. It just so happened so many of those he encountered and married were women. Men weren't off the table. And, well...Binghe would know himself more than Shen Yuan would know him, right? Because, well, things are so different and events he never witnessed from the book happened, like finding the 'nice shizun' in the first place. So...perhaps a few other things are different than expected? And, well, congrats, men! They're also viable for Binghe! They can rejoice! He absolutely didn't feel a skip in his heartbeat at that realization!

For two, though, he's in the body of one of Binghe's main abusers. Him not being Shen Jiu wouldn't change that (because he's not Shen Jiu, he knows it...right? Those dreams were just memories to update him on the situation. He didn't do those terrible things to Binghe, and if he did, then, shit, he did deserve to awaken in this torn-up wreck of a body--). Surely he couldn't be attracted to him because of that.

However, when Binghe looks at him and says the way he carries himself is so different, he doesn't see his old shizun in him, that does make him feel a bit fluffy.

And, for three...uhm...ugh... There's supposed to be a third point, surely! They just... He's not a good match! Yes, that's it. He's not a good match for Luo Binghe. He's not particularly powerful, beautiful, or smart. In fact, he can be quite lazy and indecisive, just wanting to read books all day! Yes, he helps Luo Binghe with his work, but that's just a given to help Binghe when he asks for it!

Even if it kinda puts him on the spot sometimes!

"How do you think I should punish him, Shizun?"

The 'him' in question is a cultivator from one of the lingering sects, one who attempted to use the terrible, scalding venom of a Carapaced Scorpion Buffalo to kill one of Binghe's advisors or something of the sort. Shen Yuan hummed a little as he thought.

He was in the body of a cultivator, so surely one would expect him to request mercy for the person. But it's not like Shen Yuan knows who the guy is. Moreover, that poison could've ended up in one of the wives' drinks, or even Binghe's! Although he could heal from it, having a scalded throat for any period of time would be quite terrible.

"Well, he brought the Carapaced Scorpion Buffalo venom to poison someone's drink. Then, if we were to tie him with immortal binding cables, he would be able to experience what he almost forced on someone else, right? Ah, though, let's not cut off his cultivation completely. Though he'll heal slowly, he should be fine in the end."

Of course, Shen Yuan doesn't know the sort of image he makes, sitting on a smaller throne next to Luo Binghe's his seat less ornate but just as elegant and powerful as the Demon Emperor's. Although his limbs don't move, he's using his qi to move a fan and fan himself a tad stiltedly, but considering such oscillating movements are difficult for many cultivators, it's still a show of his increasing expertise.

Despite his clearly maimed form, he didn't hesitate to suggest it as a punishment, though Luo Binghe didn't tell him that the very person the cultivator was trying to poison had been him, presumably out of pity for his condition.

Luo Binghe grins from ear to ear.

"What a wonderful suggestion, Shizun. I think that's perfect."

I think, after a few more incidents and relying on A'Yuan's judgement for certain issues, receiving positive results, he decides to officially marry him. Which, yeah, that really shocked Shen Yuan...but...well.

He can't very well deny Binghe what he wants when he can reasonably give it, can he? Besides, if Binghe wants him despite everything...

Stop that, heart. Stop feeling so swollen with love and affection. His face is too thin for such emotions.

---

I think I'll actually talk about the crowning ceremony if I continue this, cause, like, I am thinking about how fuckin enraged Yue Qingyuan would be upon hearing that Shen Jiu was being named Luo Binghe's empress. Because, surely he couldn't have agreed to that of his own free will.

Yes, it was about time for Cang Qiong Mountain Sect to be more adamant about retrieving Shen Qingqiu, isn't it? They had become stable enough now after the merging of the three realms. Although they suffered many casualties, getting him back would, at the very least, ease their anxieties over how he's being treated.

He has suffered enough. To be made into a fool as some ridiculous ploy to humiliate him... Enough is enough.

---

Part 1 Part 2: here Part 3

#static writes #amputee sy au #bingqiu #luo bingge #original luo binghe #shen yuan #au post 2 #svsss #bingyuan

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thelostconsultant · 5 hours

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Delicate. part 1

pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

note: Lando invites everyone to his New Year's Eve party, but Charles convinces you to join him on a hunt for food.

You knew this New Year’s Eve party was important to Lando, you knew he wanted everyone to be there, so you put on a shiny, dark pink sequin mini dress, applied some light makeup, then headed out to the club that he somehow managed to reserve for himself. How long he’d been planning this, you had no idea, but he surely went a little overboard this time. I just want to be alone with my friends, that’s not a crime, he defended himself when you pointed this out to him a few weeks ago.

At the party, you felt a little out of place. This was the first time in years you weren’t entering the new year on the side of your boyfriend, the one you had broken up with half a year ago. It was a mutual decision, the spark wasn’t there anymore, so you didn’t miss him, you just missed the idea of clinging to someone the whole night. It was pathetic, you hated yourself for feeling this way, but there was nothing you could do about it.

Your best friend knew Lando, but she didn’t get an invitation because everybody knew she spent every New Year’s Eve on a yacht in the Maldives. She tried to convince you to go with her this year, but you didn’t feel like leaving Monaco for a place so far away, especially not when she would be all over her boyfriend the whole time. They were cute together, you loved them, but third wheeling wasn’t so inviting.

You chatted with a few people, even let someone convince you to dance a little, but then you found a couch in the back of the club that you chose as your permanent spot for the rest of the night when you sat down with a cocktail in your hand. It was nice to sit back and watch the people around you celebrate, having the time of their lives from the looks of it. Despite the weird feeling you had since you arrived, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. At least they were happy. They were celebrating.

You? You didn’t know what to look out for in the new year. Maybe you should get a job again. After you finished your studies, you worked for a consulting company for a year, but then you had enough of the excel files and the presentations, and decided to be nothing more than a carefree heiress in the future. Your grandmother, who came from a wealthy family with a long history, had always favored you over her children, including your mother. So, when she died, she left everything to you in her will.

The peaceful people-watching activity was disrupted when you noticed someone plopping down next to you out of the corner of your eye. It annoyed you, really, but once you turned to look at who it was, your annoyance disappeared as if it hadn’t even been there. You didn’t really know Charles. Sure, he was on good terms with Lando, sometimes you attended the same parties, but the most you exchanged were probably a total of ten sentences in the span of years. But he had that calming aura around him, one that made you feel better, as if you were suddenly wrapped in a warm blanket.

At first, you didn’t talk, there was no need for that. He just probably needed a place to sit down until he got a little rest before rejoining the party. Sipping your drink, you continued to watch the people, completely ignoring your neighbor. But then you began to have a strange feeling, as if someone was watching you, eyes burning a hole in you without knowing, and it didn’t take long to figure out it was him who was shamelessly ogling you.

When you turned to him with a questioning look, he quickly shifted his gaze somewhere else, acting like he hadn’t just been caught in the act of staring at you. Shaking your head a little, you decided to ignore him for now. He was probably drunk and had no idea what was appropriate anymore. Although, he didn’t seem that out of it, in fact, he just looked tired with those dark circles under his eyes.

And then you felt his thigh press against yours, shoulders touching after he moved closer to you. “I bet you don’t wanna be here either,” he said, leaning close so you could hear him over the music. Finally turning to acknowledge him, you give him a surprised look. “Lando was quite literally begging me to come tonight. I’m only here because I promised, even though I’d rather be somewhere else. Anywhere else,” he added.

“If I could choose, I’d be sitting on my couch with a blanket around me, eating popcorn while holding a movie marathon,” you admitted with a smile. “But it’s impossible to say no to him.”

“Sad, but true.” His green eyes turned to the crowd in front of you, but you didn’t miss the way his fingers played with his bracelets. “I would give up my car for some popcorn. Or a pizza. Or some pasta. Anything, really, because I’m starving,” he told you as he looked back.

The last time you were around the other side of the club, there was a huge table with a lot of food, how could he not see that? But when you shared this little piece of information with him, he just laughed, and his bright smile reached his eyes too. You wondered what was so funny about this, but you soon got your answer.

“Yeah, that was true until about an hour ago. I was just about to finally eat something, but some guy grabbed the very last of the sliders I had my eyes on. The table is empty. There’s no food. We’re going to die.” He dramatically threw his hands in the air as he leaned back, glancing down at his watch. “It’s only eleven, I don’t know how long I’ll last. Do you think I will live until midnight?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his question. But you weren’t laughing at him, you were laughing with him. Now that he mentioned food, though, you realized that you were quite hungry too. “Did you really have to bring up food?” you asked him with a disapproving look.

Charles’s lips curled into a grin. “Now you’re hungry too, aren’t you?” When you nodded, he bumped his shoulder against yours. “It’s your fault for talking about popcorn,” he pointed out. “Although… Do you think Lando would notice if we left? He seems so busy partying that I highly doubt he would notice we’re not here.”

As your eyes scanned the crowd to find the host, you let out a thoughtful hum. The last time you saw him, which conveniently happened in the restroom, he was already on his way to get real drunk, and he was having so much fun you highly doubted he would care about some of his guests escaping. So, without thinking more about this, you turned to the Monegasque next to you and told him the answer is probably no.

“Great,” he said as he jumped up and extended his hand for you to grab it. When you just watched him with a questioning look, he leaned down to take your hand and pull you up. “Come on, I know a place where we can hopefully get food.” And with that, he took your hand and pulled you towards the exit, not really giving you the chance to object.

The two of you walked down the street, hands stuffed into the pockets of your jackets to fight the chilly night air, and you talked about music, movies, even about how Christmas went. You barely noticed that he came to a halt in front of a little bistro in a narrow street, holding up a pointer finger to ask for a second while he opened the door and peeked inside.

He spoke with someone in French, exchanging words you couldn’t quite make out, then he reached out for your hand with a smile on his face and pulled you inside. There was a small group of people sitting around a table, happily discussing something until they noticed you standing there. At first, there was silence. But then they erupted in cheers while someone stood up and pulled Charles into a hug.

A man in his late thirties ushered you to an empty chair by the table that he pulled out for you, then he poured both you and the Monegasque driver a glass of wine. You watched as your new companion got comfortable across from you, already deep in a conversation with an older man who explained something with wide motions of his hand.

Whoever these people were, they clearly welcomed him like he was family. The older man he was talking to called him son at one point, and Charles didn't flinch, he just smiled lovingly as he listened to the story. He was way more at ease here than he had been back in the club. The dark circles under his eyes were still there, but those green eyes came to life in this new environment.

Someone placed freshly made sandwiches in front of you, and you didn't miss the small smile on his face when he glanced at you for a moment. A little explanation would have been nice, just so you would know whose company you were enjoying, but since he didn't bother to explain, you focused your attention on your food. And when you took a bite? God, it was heavenly.

“Good, right?” When you glanced up, you noticed that a kind-looking, forty-something woman was now sitting on the chair next to you, her long brown hair flowing down her shoulders as her blue eyes watched you with a mischievous glint. “My father,” she began, motioning towards the man Charles was talking to, “opened this place because he wanted people to have actual conversations with each other while enjoying their food. Charles can have extremely long discussions with him about literally anything.”

Once you swallowed, you extended a hand to her to introduce yourself. After you got past that, you turned your finger around to show what you were about to say was related to everyone in this room. “So, is it a family event that he just crashed?” you wondered out loud.

Marie let out a laugh as she shook her head. “Hardly. They're all friends through my father, though. We always gather here on New Year's Eve, but this is the first time Charles came. Although, based on the way he made his sandwich disappear so fast, I guess it was the food that brought him here,” she said with a wide smile.

Guilt rushed through your body upon hearing this, because that's exactly what happened. But he seemed happy, maybe deep down he wanted to be here with his friends. They were so different from the ones you also hung out with, the F1 drivers and other celebrities. These were normal people, having normal conversations, acting genuinely and kindly.

You got lost in a conversation, but soon it was interrupted when she glanced at the clock on the wall. 11:55 p.m. It was almost time. She excused herself and left to fill flutes with champagne, and before you knew it, you were all standing in a circle, counting down to midnight. Charles was standing next to you, smiling so much that his nose crinkled in the cutest way.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

And just when you wanted to join the group as they said happy new year, you felt a hand on the back of your neck, then a few milliseconds later, before your brain could comprehend what was happening, Charles's lips crashed into yours. It was slow and soft, he definitely took his time with you as if you weren’t surrounded by people. And just as abruptly as it began, it came to an end eventually.

“It's in the law to kiss someone at midnight,” he said with a smile as he licked his lips.

For a while you were staring at him dumbfounded, but you managed to shake off this feeling and nodded after a short break. That’s true, it was a well-known tradition. Flashing a smile at him, you turned away to clink your glasses with the others, placing friendly kisses on their cheeks in the process, but Marie decided to pull you into a hug, treating you as if you had known each other for a long time.

It felt nice. Unlike at the party, here you actually felt like you belonged. Sure, you and Lando were really good friends, and yes, you knew many of his friends, but none of them was a close friend of yours. Yet, despite not really knowing Charles, the fact he was so relaxed and happy among his friends made you happy too. It was a contagious feeling, and maybe it was related to the warm welcome here that lifted your mood. These people were so different from the ones you were used to in your everyday life. It was charming, really.

You all sat down when someone pulled out a board game that seemed old and unfamiliar to you. But they were kind enough to explain the rules to you, and Charles even promised to help you throughout the game as he took a seat next to you. I only began to understand it around the third time we played it, so don’t be sad if you still don’t understand any of it by the end, he told you with a laugh. You returned his beaming smile, and in the next two hours or so you laughed a lot, argued a lot, and there was even some shouting when someone accused another of cheating.

By the time they packed up the game, you were so tired you couldn't fight back your yawns. You glanced at the clock on the wall and noticed it was past three in the morning, and you knew it was time to go home now, because even though fun’s fun, there's a limit to everything. The thought of your soft bed was inviting, like a siren calling for you from the distance, and the idea of spending the whole day in it was the cherry on top.

“Going home?” Marie asked you with her hand resting on your shoulder, her tired smile giving away that she was probably also debating calling it a day. When you nodded, she let out a defeated sigh. “I wish I could go too, but I promised my father I'd stick around and help him clean up a bit after everyone left.”

Without thinking much, you pulled her into a hug. “I'm sure you could convince him to clean up tomo–well, later today,” you finished with a laugh.

She leaned back to look at you. “And leave the dirty plates and glasses here? No, thank you. I'll just sleep a little longer, I guess,” she replied as she let you go.

Suddenly an arm landed around your shoulder, and based on the bracelets around the man's right wrist, it was a safe bet that the man was Charles. And sure enough, the driver's face came into view when he leaned into your field of vision. You watched him with a curious look in your eyes, but he didn't seem too interested in explaining what he wanted.

“I've already told this to your father, but thank you for hosting us, even though we arrived last minute without a warning,” he finished with a boyish smile before his green eyes turned to you. “But it's late, we'll head home now.”

Marie kissed his cheek, then she reached out to squeeze your hand as a goodbye. “It was nice to have you both here. You know you can jump in anytime. And you,” she went on, turning to you, “would better not disappear on me. Let's have lunch together someday.”

“Of course. I'll give you a call tomorrow when we're both fully awake,” you promised with a smile.

The two of you said goodbye to everyone, then stepped out on the street, standing next to each other in silence. It felt like you had suddenly run out of topics to discuss, although after some thinking, you managed to find something you could bring up.

“You could've stayed a little longer,” you told him as your eyes found his face again.

Charles laughed as he shook his head. “It's late, I could use some proper sleep too,” he admitted. As his eyes were focused on you, he bit on his lower lip and clearly thought about something. “Can I walk you home?”

“That’s a nice offer, but I already called a taxi. Thanks for bringing me here, though. I had fun,” you said with a wide smile. It was true, you couldn't remember the last time you had been to such a nice New Year's Eve party. Your phone pinged to tell you the taxi was arriving, and when you noticed the car pulling up, you stood on your toes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “Goodnight, Charles.”

“Sleep tight,” he told you quietly, but you could feel there was something else he wanted to say.

In the end, he remained silent, and you got in the car that took you home. As you sat there with your eyes taking in how magnificent this city looked tonight, you couldn't help but think about how the party turned out. It was nice to get to know him a little better, seeing a side of him that maybe wasn't as visible from the outside as one would expect. If you had known how fun he could be, you probably would have become friendly with him sooner.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #lando norris

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lizziela · 2 days

Text

Instagram AU - Aaron Hotchner - Part 4

y/n_l/n

y/n_l/n: I was looking through some Aaron's old albums and found those!!! You guys look so cute!! @/ladypen_garcia @/aarhotchner @/jjjareau @/em_prent

rossidave: nostalgic are we?!

derekm: those are GOLD!! Looking good girls!

em_prent: when was it??? We look so young!

ladypen_garcia: @/em_prent I believe it was when you got to BAU? We look young and I was blond at the time!

jjjareau: @/ladypen_garcia and the other you were red... probably before I had to leave...

aarhotchner: those were good times!

y/n_l/n: @/aarhotchner and what about now?

aarhotchner: @/y/n_l/n it's even better!!

aarhotchner

aarhotchner: Bowie found a new pillow

y/n_l/n: he left my whole body NUMB! How is it possible???

drreid: @/y/n_l/n he probably was blocking a few blood vessels and didn't let the blood flow properly

y/n_l/n: @/drreid but it was my whole body

drreid: @/y/n_l/n then you are probably dying :/

y/n_l/n: @/drreid '-'

y/n_l/n

y/n_l/n: and Jack loved every minute (this kid loves water, I swear he was a fish in another life)

aarhotchner: and got enough money to buy even more spider-man legos

rossidave: would he be interested for a few hundred bucks?

y/n_l/n: @/rossidave IF JACK'S NOT, I AM!

em_prent: @/y/n_l/n @/rossidave and so am I!!

y/n_l/n

y/n_l/n: Bowie loves him so much. He cries when Jack goes to another room!

aarhotchner: they are best friends!

ladypen_garcia: I love them so much! They are soulmates!

y/n_l/n: @/ladypen_garcia yes, they are!

aarhotchner

aarhotchner: memories from our last trip!

y/n_l/n: Our brave Jackers! He was afraid, but he didn't let his fear get in the way!!

derekm: That's my man! Congrats, Jack!!

jjjareau: Now Henry is asking to go the next time! He misses his friend!

y/n_l/n: @/jjjareau and Jackers misses Henry very much!

aarhotchner

aarhotchner: I'm sorry, darling, but he loves me more!

y/n_l/n: just because you are warm!!

ladypen_garcia: Not Bowie preferring Boss Man over our Lovely Honey! 😭😭

em_prent: Love Bowie, but this is pure betrayal!

y/n_l/n: @/em_prent I know!!! How could he do this to me?? I am the one that wakes up everyday 6a.m to give him food!!

y/n_l/n

y/n_l/n: the betrayal, pt 2.

ladypen_garcia: be careful, this could be @/y/n_l/n start of her villain arc...

aarhotchner: I love you, babe!

y/n_l/n: @/aarhotchner I love you too, but that's MY dog!

y/n_l/n

y/n_l/n: I don't have words to describe what I felt after the movie night ended with this surprise! Jackers giggled the whole movie even when it wasn't that funny, Aaron was so fidget by my side! And how did you train Bowie to do this? He was so concentrated!

I know how this night took so many weeks to prepare... and between the beautiful ring and the planning and execution of this day?? I just know that I chose the right man.

I love you, Hotchner! I can wait to finally have you last name!

aarhotchner: I hope this is a Yes!

y/n_l/n: @/aarhotchner Yes, a thousand times yes!

ladypen_garcia: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!!! I call dibs as maid of honour!

y/n_l/n: @/ladypen_garcia don't worry, Penny!!

jjjareau: Congratulations, Hotch and L/n!!

rossidave: Right on time!

derekm: Finally, I was getting worried about the ring staying at his desk drawer forever!

y/n_l/n: @/derekm For how long he kept it there?

derekm: @/y/n_l/n since before that Arizona case... It has been a while. But I'm sure he was waiting for the perfect moment!

em_prent: Congratulations to the best couple!!!

drreid: Congratulations!!

Hey!! It has been some time... Writers block and all that!

But I hope you like it!!

As always: the images are from Pinterest

taglist

@nescavaneck

#aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #aaron hotchner au #social media au #lizzie thoughts

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writeriguess · 3 days

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Heyyy! I was wondering if you could do a marauding x em!reder, where the reader has ADHD and forgets to take her meds. Katauki tell her to gently and when she goes to look for them she can’t find them, she falls into a panic attack and katauki helps her?

I’m so super sorry if that’s too much! You totally do NOT have to write this 😣

The morning rush was typical—grabbing your school uniform, stuffing your bag with books, and hastily eating breakfast. In the midst of it all, you forgot something important: your ADHD medication. The day had flown by, with scattered thoughts, a racing mind, and frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

You couldn’t focus in class, barely paid attention during lunch, and now, as you sat at your desk staring at your homework, it felt like every thought was fighting to be heard. Every noise in the common area echoed in your brain, amplifying your distraction until you couldn’t take it anymore. You sighed, rubbing your temples.

“Oi.”

The familiar gruff voice snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. You looked up to see Bakugo Katsuki standing in the doorway to your dorm room. His hands were shoved into his pockets, and his sharp red eyes were narrowed, but there was something different about his usual scowl.

“You’ve been zoning out all day. What’s up?”

You bit your lip. “Uh… I think I forgot my meds this morning.”

His expression softened, just a little. “Did you take them after lunch?”

Your heart sank. “I-I forgot again. I’ll go get them now.” You stood up, heading for your bag where you usually kept your pills. But when you rummaged through it, they weren’t there.

No big deal, you thought. Maybe they were in the bathroom? You checked the cabinet, drawers, anywhere they could be. Nothing.

You started pacing, hands trembling as your mind raced. Where could they be? You always kept them in the same place, so how could they be gone?

“Katsuki, I-I can’t find them,” you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady, but panic was rising in your chest. Your breathing grew rapid, your vision narrowing as tears pricked at your eyes. The room seemed to close in on you, thoughts swirling, mixing, and you couldn’t focus on anything but the sheer chaos in your mind.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, strong but not rough. Bakugo had stepped closer, his voice low and calm, a tone he only used in moments like these.

“Hey. Slow down. Breathe.”

You shook your head, panic creeping into your voice. “I-I can’t. Katsuki, I can’t think straight. I don’t know what to do.”

He guided you to sit on the edge of your bed, kneeling in front of you, his hands holding yours firmly but gently.

“Look at me.”

Your gaze snapped to his, the intensity in his eyes grounding you for just a second. His hands gave yours a reassuring squeeze.

“You’re alright. You’re just freakin’ out ‘cause you forgot. But you’re gonna be fine. We’ll find them, but you need to calm down first, okay?”

His voice was steady, a contrast to the storm in your mind. He waited, patient despite the normally explosive demeanor he was known for. He took a slow, deliberate breath, and you followed suit. In and out, trying to match his rhythm.

“Good. Keep doing that,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. “Don’t think about the pills. Just focus on breathing.”

After a few more breaths, the fog in your mind began to clear a little. The panic, though still present, wasn’t as suffocating as before. You nodded slowly, still feeling shaky but a little more in control.

“Better?” he asked, his voice gruff but softer than usual.

You nodded again, this time more certain. “Yeah. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Shut up. Don’t apologize for that.” His thumb brushed over the back of your hand as he stood, pulling you to your feet. “You’re not alone in this, alright? I’ll help you look.”

The two of you began searching again, but this time with Katsuki by your side, the pressure felt less overwhelming. After a few minutes of looking, he found the bottle of medication buried at the bottom of a drawer in your desk. He handed it to you with a smirk, but there was warmth in his eyes.

“Told ya we’d find ‘em.”

You gave him a weak smile, still feeling a bit shaky from the panic attack. “Thanks, Katsuki.”

He shrugged, but the smirk softened. “Don’t mention it. Just… if you need help, tell me next time. Don’t keep it to yourself, dumbass.”

You let out a small laugh, and he ruffled your hair roughly, a gesture that had become oddly comforting from him. “Yeah, I will.”

As he turned to leave, you called out to him. “Katsuki?”

He glanced over his shoulder.

“Thanks again. I really mean it.”

His eyes softened, just for a second, before he scoffed. “Whatever. You’re my problem, remember?”

But as he walked away, you could feel the unspoken care behind his words, the way he always seemed to be there when you needed him most.

Your anchor in the storm.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like.

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demonsslayersstuff · 1 day

Text

The Five Times You Sleep Together (Gojo x Reader)

A/N: Reposting

A/N: This is a Gojo x Reader drabble about the five times you sleep together. Not posted in chronological order. Mentions of sex and kissing but nothing too detailed. It is mostly about just sleeping lol. Enjoy!

Fourth Time:

Grief is what caused the two of you to sleep together, you both needed the comfort of the other, the feel of someone laying next to you, the knowledge that you weren't alone.

Gojo finds you standing in the courtyard, the rubble of destroyed buildings strewn about. You had gone there because you wanted to see the last thing your former friend saw before they had died. In away it was almost closure for yourself, seeing the damage and knowing he didn't survive. While you felt deep sadness, there was also a sense of relief with his passing.

Neither of you speak as the white-haired man comes to stand beside you, the two of you had been friends, truthfully a bit more for over a decade, so words did not need to be spoken. You look at him, noting the fatigue and hollowness in his eyes. While Geto had been your friend, he wasn’t as close to you as he had been to Gojo. He was Gojo’s best friend. You grab his hand and begin to walk away from the chaos of the day. The two of you walking the familiar path to the dormitories of the school.

Soon you enter your room, shoes toed off, heading for the bed. You reach for his jacket, unbuttoning it and slipping it off his shoulders without protest. He does the same for you, jacket removed and tossed into some random corner of the room. You shimmy out of your pants, him doing the same before the two you crawl into bed. You lay your head onto Gojo's chest as an arm wraps around your waist, his other hand threading through your hair.

"Sleep, I'll be here when you wake up, I promise", he whispers. You feel his lips brush against your forehead, your eyes dropping with the steady brush of his fingers in your hair. "Satoru...", you mumble. "I'm sorry, I'll always be here for you", you continue before drifting off to sleep. Gojo holds you a bit tighter that night.

First Time:

Nightmares is what sends you to your friends room at two in the morning. After you'd failed to save someone during you previous mission your nights were plagued with their screams replaying in your mind, you hadn't slept well in over two weeks.

The door opens, Gojo looking down at you with a surprised face after you'd knocked. "Can't sleep", you say walking into his room. Unsurprisingly you find candy wrappers, clothes, and books strewn all over the place. "You want to talk about it?", Gojo asks, motioning you to sit on on his bed. "I can't get her screams out of my head", you tell him after a moment of silence.

He hums for a few seconds before, “Here”, Gojo says moving the blankets to the side, indicating that he wanted you to lay down. “No, no, I can’t sleep here”, you tell him, cheeks flushing. “Why not? This not what you had in mind for our first time together?”, he quips with a cheeky grin that you would have smacked off his face if not for his infinity. “Ok, ok. I promise I’ll be a gentleman. I just think you might be able to sleep better with me here”, Gojo says. You ponder his words for a moment, “No funny business?”, you ask him pointedly. “I promise sweets”, he replies.

You sigh before slipping in the blankets, scooting towards the wall as Satoru follows careful to keep a bit of distance between the two of you. It’s not long before you feel the warmth emitting from his body, making you sleepy, eyes closing. But before you can, the scene that had been haunting you replays in your mind, your breathing quickens. Suddenly you feel Gojo’s body close to yours, his hand on your waist, lips near your ear. “It’s ok, I’m here”, he whispers. “Listen to my breathing, breathe with me”, he tells you. You follow his instructions silently and after a few minutes you find yourself drifting to sleep, breathing relaxed.

Hours later when the sun light peaks through the window, you awaken wrapped protectively in his arms and for the first time in weeks you felt safe and rested.

The Third Time:

You find him sitting in the dark classroom, glasses off, staring out the window. It had been mere hours since his best friend had defected and you were worried.

You approach him delicately, Gojo was not one to talk about his feelings, preferring to suffer alone in silence. “Sato”, you say quietly, entering the room. He doesn’t respond, continuing to look out the window. You slowly move to stand next him, glancing to get a good look at him. His usually sparkling blue eyes were now dull and devoid of his usual happiness. You could see the pain on his face, the fatigue in the way his shoulders slumped in an almost defeated way.

You reach out and grasp his hand in yours, surprised his infinity was off. “Come with me”, you tell him. “I don’t…”, he finally answers, though his words die as his voice cracks. “Don’t argue with me Satoru, I’m not leaving you alone tonight”, you say in the most authoritative voice you have. Gojo’s eyes go wide, but surprisingly he doesn’t argue, instead follows behind you, your hand still gripping his.

A few moments later your pushing him through your door and onto your bed. You watch as he curls up into a ball, dejectedly staring at your wall. You sigh before you crawl into bed. Though you are significantly smaller than him you wrap your body around his, your right arm crossing his chest, leg overlapping his.

You stay like that for a long time, in absolute silence. Your presence was enough to soothe him, to make it known he wasn’t alone in this. Eventually Gojo turns to face you. He just stares into your eyes and you swear you’ve never seen him so broken. You move your hand to softly cup his cheek, your thumb softly brushing it. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I am sorry”, you tell him quietly. You see a few tears slip from his eyes, which you quickly brush away. “I’m here when you’re ready to talk, I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, ok”, you continue.

Gojo continues to stare at you for a moment before he suddenly closes the distance between your faces, kissing you. Though you are surprised, you don’t shy away. This probably isn’t the healthiest way to handle this situation, but you let yourself be devoured in the kiss, let his hands grip your waist as you as he moves to hover on top of you, your arms wrapping around his neck, your silent permission to him that this was ok.

One day you’ll find the time to have a real conversation to sort out these feelings, but for now you let him remove your clothes, let him touch you in places you’ve only dreamed about. You let Satoru Gojo make your body his own and he lets you do the same. Hours later when the two you are nestled in each other’s arms, sleep ready to take over, do you hear, “Thank you”, whispered and you know that things will get better.

The Second Time:

“Well this is just peachy”, you say finally breaking the silence between the three of you. You, Gojo, and Nanami had been tasked on an overnight mission in Osaka. Though you’d been promised a triple room the three of you continue to stare at the one single bed and one queen sized bed in uncomfortable silence.

“I guess you and I are bunk mates”, Gojo says looking over at Nanami. You also look over at Nanami, though more so because of concern. While the two boys would work together without complaint during a mission, sleeping together was one thing you knew Nanami was not happy about.

You hear your junior curse under his breath, saw the unpleasant look on his face. You sigh, hoping you would not regret the words you were about to say. “Nanami you take the twin bed”, you say. Both boys whip around in surprise. “Senpai, no”, Nanami begins, but you wave him off. “Don’t worry it about, I’m trying to save your sanity from this psycho”, you tell him, thumbing point to Gojo.

“Hey!”, he responds with feigned hurt. “Still, it’s not fair for you to sleep with him-” Nanami argues, but you interject. “It’s ok, besides this wouldn’t be the first time”, you tell him. Your eyes go wide when you finish speaking, realizing the mistake you had just made. Gojo laughs as Nanami’s face turns the darkest shade of red you’d ever seen.

“I see so it’s like that. Very well. I’m gonna, uhh, I’ll just meet you by the 7/11 in five minutes”, Nanami tumbles over his words before darting out of the room. “No Nanami it’s not like that”, you shout after him, but the blond haired sorcerer is gone. “Nice going sweets”, Gojo says finally says after letting the scene play out. You give him a heated look before heading out to explain what you meant to Nanami.

Hours later, when your mission is completed you come to not regret your words. Not when Gojo is quick to cuddle with you, you’re too tired to complain, though secretly you relish in his touch. Sleep finds you quickly that night wrapped in the arms of the strongest sorcerer.

The Fifth Time:

It’s not long after Geto’s death that Satoru seeks the warmth of your bed again, just as he’d done the first night of his friend’s death. He doesn’t knock, he doesn’t need to, not anymore anyway.

The two of you had been playing a quiet little game of expressing your emotions physically, though neither of you made an effort to speak of them. For the past ten years it had been stolen touches and glances. The occasional “slip up” of kisses and heated moments being shared every now and then.

You didn’t bother trying to be with anyone else. You knew from the age of eighteen, when the two of you had shared that intimate night together, that Satoru Gojo was your soulmate. You were his, he made zero effort to push you away, to find anyone else. There was no point in his mind, you were his, had been for ten years. Though again neither of you had ever spoken about this.

That night you hear your door creak open and close, you feel the familiar weight on the mattress as it dips down. Strong arms wrap your waist, pulling you flush again him. “You awake sweets?”, Gojo asks. You hum in a sleepy response, which quietly changes to a squeal as he flips you over to face him. “Sato-”, you begin but the words die in your throat when you look up into his face. He was looking at you like you were the most beautiful creature on the entire planet.

It’s not long before the two of you find yourself in the familiar frenziness of clothes being ripped off, hands exploring each other’s bodies, lips locking together. The difference is that as the two of you reach your highs an “I love you”, spills from his lips, rocking your heart to its core. “Be mine”, Gojo says later after removing his face from your neck, the weight of what he’d previously said still hanging in the air. You cup his face with your hands. “I was already yours Satoru”, you tell him softly. Your admission brings your favorite crooked smile to his face.

Later after the two of you clean up and sink back into the comfort of each other’s arms you say, “Move the rest of your stuff here”, quietly, testing new waters. “Tomorrow morning”, he replies, sleep heavy in his voice. You nestle deeply into his chest whispering, “I love you too”, before sleep finally overtakes you. After that night, the two of you rarely slept apart, finally embracing your true feelings that started ten years ago.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk

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ninjatrashpanda · 10 hours

Text

The Other Shoe (Waiting for it to drop)

Written for @bucktommypositivityweek Round 2! Today's prompt is "Coming Out Scenes!"

Read it on AO3 here.

“I, uh, I think it’s time to face the music,” Buck whispered, tugging on Tommy’s sleeve. His eyes wandered over to his parents, who had watched him and Tommy like hawks throughout the entire reception, though Buck had a hard time predicting what they were thinking. On one hand, therapy had been going well, and while The Buckleys would probably never be the big happy family Buck had wished for as a kid, Mom and Dad were trying. They had been nothing but supportive about him being Connor and Kameron’s sperm donor last year, and Buck would be lying if he said he hadn’t felt a pang of appreciation when they had stood up for him against Chimney’s father and stepmother.

On the other hand, well, these were his parents, and old fears die hard. While they had apologized for how they had treated him and Maddie and become better, there was a little voice at the back of his head that told him they’d just be disappointed again. The fact that his mother hadn’t managed to get rid of the bewildered look on her face since he had dragged Tommy into Chimney’s hospital room didn’t help.

“Should I be scared?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Buck chuckled, though it sounded more like a nervous exhale. He stole another glance at his parents, then shifted his gaze to the floor, kicking at an imaginary speck of dust. “Nah,” he said, though he admittedly wasn’t even able to convince himself of that. “Not scared. Just... prepared.”

Tommy followed Buck’s gaze across the room, where Buck’s parents stood stiffly by a wall, half-empty champagne flutes clutched tightly in their hands. Buck knew they had been mingling just a few minutes ago, but he still couldn’t help but feel that they looked, well, out of place. While they were nothing but polite, they didn’t really mesh with anyone else, and always seemed a little awkward.

“They don’t seem like they bite,” Tommy observed, in that casual, dry tone Buck had grown to appreciate over the past few weeks. In an instant, a part of his anxiety evaporated and bubbled to the surface in a barely held back snort.

“Not literally, no.” Buck ran a hand through his hair with a shake of his head, the slight smile Tommy had brought to his face staying on his face. “It’s just... history, you know? They’re trying, and I get that, I do. But sometimes it’s like...” He trailed off with a shrug, struggling to find the right words. “It’s like I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Tommy nodded, his hand reaching out to squeeze Buck’s. Buck had told him the basics, how Maddie had practically raised him, how their parents had been neglectful and controlling. He vaguely knew about Daniel, too, though Buck hadn’t delved into the whole Savior Baby thing yet. The subject was…touchy, to say the least, and while he knew he had to breach it at some point, he wanted Tommy to have as neutral an opinion on his parents as possible. They were putting in the effort, so Buck figured they deserved that much.

“Well,” Tommy said, squeezing Buck’s hand again, a bit firmer this time, “if things get weird, you’ve got me for backup. Just say the word, and I’ll distract them with my fake mouth static.”

Buck couldn’t help but let out a genuine laugh at that, which surprised even himself. Tommy had a knack for diffusing tension, and Buck was grateful for it. It was one of the reasons he had gravitated toward him in the first place. He tightened his grip on Tommy’s hand, drawing strength from the contact, before letting go and straightening up.

“Good idea. You’re renowned for your fake mouth static after all.”

“Damn right I am.”

They stood there for a moment, neither quite willing to take the first step towards the inevitable conversation. The reception was starting to wind down, (because the nurses were kicking people out now) so at least if this developed into a scene, not too many people would end up seeing. Chimney, now recovering well after the whole viral encephalitis debacle, was in high spirits, chatting animatedly with Hen and Karen. Maddie was close by his side, smiling brighter than he had ever seen, seemingly refusing to let go of her new husband’s arm.

The love between them gave Buck a tiny surge of courage. If Maddie and Chimney could find happiness after everything they had been through, then maybe things could work out with his and Maddie’s parents too.

“Alright,” Buck said, straightening his posture, bracing himself for impact. “Let’s do this.”

They crossed the room together, Tommy a step behind Buck, offering silent support. Buck’s parents straightened as he approached, their faces neutral masks. They clearly didn’t know how to react, and Buck could hardly blame them for that.

“Hi,” Buck said, forcing a smile. “You probably have a few questions.”

His mother’s eyes softened, but there was still a glimmer of uncertainty in them. His father cleared his throat, his grip on the champagne flute tightening just slightly. The atmosphere was stiff, and the air felt thick enough to cut it with a knife.

“Hi, Buck,” his mother replied, her voice wavering just a bit. Buck was actually (positively) surprised that she used his nickname, though he had to admit it sounded almost foreign in her voice. “Yes, we, uh…” She glanced at his father, who nodded, urging her to continue. “We do have some questions, but—”

“We don’t want to push,” his father interjected, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. “We’re just… trying to understand.”

Buck nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. They weren’t throwing accusations and bad faith arguments around, so that was a good start. Still, Buck knew that they weren’t out of the woods yet. He hadn’t spoken about the big B yet, after all.

“Yeah,” Buck said, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous habit he hadn’t quite outgrown. “I figured. And, uh, it’s okay to ask. I know this is… a lot.”

He could see the moment his mother tried to put on a brave face, her lips curving into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “We were surprised, that’s all,” she said. “When you came into the room with…”

She trailed off, her eyes moving over Buck’s shoulder to where he knew Tommy stood just a foot or two behind him. He took a deep breath. This was it. No going back. He had thought about it for weeks at this point, had said it out loud to himself in the mirror, but not to anybody else, not even Maddie or Tommy.

“Tommy.” He turned slightly, reaching out his hand out to Tommy, who took it into his own with a smile as he stepped up. “Mom, Dad, this is Tommy Kinard. He’s my date. He, uh… he’s the reason I figured out that I’m bisexual.”

The words hung in the air for what felt like an eternity. Buck could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the sound of his blood rushing through his ears almost deafening. He knew this moment was pivotal (one of the most important in his life, probably) and the weight of it pressed down on him like the world on Atlas’ shoulders.

His parents exchanged glances, and Buck could see an onslaught of emotions flitting across their faces: surprise, confusion, and perhaps a flicker of something that could be hope. His mother’s fingers tightened around the stem of her champagne flute, and his father took a small step closer to her.

Tommy, for his part, stayed by Buck’s side, his presence a quiet but powerful anchor. He gave Buck’s hand a reassuring squeeze, a silent promise that he was here, and that he wouldn’t leave. Buck was grateful for that; it reminded him that no matter what was going to happen, he wasn’t alone.

His mother was the first to speak. “Bisexual,” she repeated, as if testing the word on her tongue. Her brow furrowed slightly, but there was no trace of anger or disappointment in her tone. Instead, she seemed...curious. “I…well, I didn’t expect that.”

Buck could see his father’s jaw tighten momentarily before he let out a slow breath. “Buck,” he began, his voice careful, deliberate. “This is…this is a lot to take in. But I want you to know that we’re listening. We’re trying to understand.”

Buck nodded. This wasn’t a rejection, not outright. But it wasn’t exactly acceptance either, not yet, at least. Still, it was something, and in this moment, something was better than nothing.

“I know it’s a lot,” Buck said, his voice quieter now. “And I don’t expect you to get it all at once. I only figured it out a few weeks ago, too. I just wanted you to know, because…because it’s who I am. And Tommy… he’s important to me.”

His mother’s eyes softened at that, and Buck could see her shifting, recalibrating her thoughts, trying to process this new piece of information about her son. “Tommy,” she said, as if tasting the name for the first time. She looked at him then, really looked at him, and there was something in her gaze that was almost…gentle. “It’s nice to meet you, Tommy.”

Tommy smiled, his usual confidence replaced by an almost shy nervousness. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Buckley. And Mr. Buckley,” he added, nodding respectfully toward Buck’s father.

Buck’s father gave a small nod in return, though his expression remained unreadable. “Tommy,” he repeated, his voice a bit more measured. “You’re… Buck’s boyfriend?”

Buck sucked in a sharp breath. Obviously that question would come up. He should’ve been prepared for it, but he wasn’t. He and Tommy hadn’t even really had that conversation. He’d certainly like for Tommy to be his boyfriend, he just wasn’t sure if Tommy was at that point yet. It had only been a few weeks after all. They had been on four dates, one of which was a complete disaster, and another that hadn’t even been a date at first, but an apology for the date that had been a complete disaster.

“Yeah,” Tommy said, his tone steady. “I’m his boyfriend. And I know this might be surprising, but Evan…he means a lot to me. I care about him.”

Buck’s breath hitched in his throat. He hadn’t expected Tommy to say it outright. He had expected a lighthearted “Not yet” or “We’re seeing each other.” That he’d gone right ahead… Buck’s heart swelled just a little bit. He squeezed Tommy’s hand a little tighter, grateful beyond words. Tommy’s answer made Buck just a little braver.

Finally, his mother spoke again. “I…I see,” she said, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. She looked at Buck, her eyes searching his, as if trying to reconcile the son she knew with these new things she was learning about him. “And you… you’re happy?”

Buck felt a lump rise in his throat. It was such a simple question, but it carried so much baggage. She wasn’t asking if he was happy with Tommy. She was asking if he was happy with himself, something that would’ve been absolutely unthinkable just three years ago.

“I am,” Buck replied, his voice growing more assured. “I’m happy, Mom. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

His mother’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she nodded slowly, as if coming to a decision within herself. She reached out then, tentatively, her hand hovering in the air for a moment before she placed it on Buck’s arm. “That’s all we want, Buck,” she whispered, her voice wavering a little. “We just want you to be happy.”

His father, who had been silent for most of the exchange, cleared his throat again. “It’s…a lot to adjust to,” he admitted, his voice gruff but not unkind. “But if this is who you are, and if this man makes you happy, then…well, we’ll do our best to understand.”

Buck felt a surge of relief wash over him, so powerful that it nearly knocked him off his feet. It wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but it was something. Something good. It was yet another step toward healing their relationship, and for that, he was grateful.

“Thank you,” Buck said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you for not, like, freaking out.”

His father gave a small nod, and his mother’s hand tightened on his arm, a silent reassurance that they were, in fact, trying. Tommy smiled and wrapped his arm around Buck’s shoulders, Buck leaning into his side almost automatically, enjoying the warmth of their connection.

His mother glanced over at Tommy, her expression softening further. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner before we fly back to Hershey, Tommy,” she said, a small, tentative smile tugging at her lips. “We’d like to get to know you better.”

Tommy’s eyes widened at the invitation, and Buck didn’t blame him. It was already unusual that Tommy had met his parents this early, but getting invited to family dinner? That was big. “I’d love to, Mrs. Buckley. Thank you.”

Buck’s father gave a curt nod, not quite ready to add anything further, but his stance had relaxed just a little. There was still a long way to go, a lot of conversations to be had, but in that moment, Buck knew they were moving in the right direction.

As the reception continued to wind down, Buck stood there with Tommy by his side, his parents before him, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a cautious sense of optimism. The journey ahead would be challenging, there was no doubt about that, but they were all still here, still trying, and that was more than Buck could have hoped for when he first approached them.

As they exchanged a few more words, lighter now, less fraught with tension, Buck realized that this was what he had been waiting for all along. Not just acceptance, but the willingness to grow, to move forward together. And maybe that was enough to help the wounds of the past heal.

#911 abc #bucktommy #tevan #evan buckley #tommy kinard #margaret buckley #phillip buckley #bucktommypositivityweek #bucktommy fanfic #fanfic

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dragon-kazansky · 1 day

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The song in our hearts

Lestat De Lioncourt x Female Reader

A musician with a heart that sings and an admirer who wishes to see his songbird thrive. Two beings in different worlds get caught up in each other when someone threatens to steal his songbird's spotlight. Loving Lestat isn't simple, and your life will never be the same again. What is eternity without chaos?

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Six - Just a drop

Lestat escorted you from the theater all the way to his house. You didn't even hesitate to go with him. It was like everything in your life was simply leading back to him.

You weren't sure if that was of your own free will or not yet. There was still a long way to go with Lestat.

As you stepped into his house you froze at the entrance of the living room. You found yourself staring at the couch. Last time you were here, Noah was bleeding out and Lestat was drinking from him…

“We can go upstairs if you wish.”

You're startled by his voice. You turn and put on a smile. “I'm okay.” You look at him. He looks at you. “It's… not a great feeling being in a room I know someone literally died in.”

Lestat caresses your chin with his finger. He guides your head toward him. “Don't think about him anymore. He's gone. Now it's just you and me.”

You keep your eyes on him, but you're thinking about the couch.

“Non, Chéri. Thoughts on me.”

“Are you always going to read my mind?”

“Not always. Only when you're clearly deep in thought.” He lowers his hand, but he doesn't tear his eyes away from you. “Which is a lot.”

“Don't get smart with me, vampire.”

He chuckles, though it sounds like he's mocking you a little. “Use my name. I like how it sounds from your lips.”

This man knows no bounds.

“You're pushing my buttons.”

“The right ones?” He grins. Lestat leans in close to your ear. “Don't deny yourself the pleasure. I'm yours, tonight, tomorrow, and every night after.”

Your breath hitches. His grin gross wide.

“You want me, non? You wrote me a song. You think about me daily. You look for me in the crowd. You took my hand and felt me bring you here. I know you. I know your thoughts.” He smirks. “Humans think of only three things most of the time. Money. Home. Sex.”

You feel a shiver run down your spine. You can't hide anything from him. He's listening to your inner thoughts.

“Damn it.”

He grins. “Just say it. Tell me what you want. Better yet, show me.”

You stare into those beautiful blue eyes. It's too late to even change your mind. He knows. You don't even bother pretending as you reach out and grab his jacket. You pull him forward and kiss him. Lestat returns the kiss hungrily, his hands clawing at your waist. You can feel his long nails digging in slightly.

He guides backwards toward the couch but you stop him. “Not here.”

He sighs against your lips. “Understood, Chéri.”

Lestat entwined his fingers with yours and guided you upstairs. You keep your eyes on him as you follow him. He moves slow, almost like a cat stalking a mouse. He guides you into a room and you both coke to a stop.

A coffin is sitting in the middle of the room. You turn your head toward Lestat slowly.

“Are you afraid?”

“You don't… want me to get in there… do you?”

Lestat leaves your side and approaches the coffin. He opens the top and let's you look inside. There's nothing in there, not that you thought there would be. He clearly sleeps here.

“Do you want to?” He asks.

“No…”

Lestat closes it again and sits on top. He looks at you for a long few moments, silence sitting heavy between you both.

“Come here.” He holds out his hand.

You stare at it. Your heart was pounding in your chest and a part of you was afraid again. Lestat had this effect on you. Even so, you reach out and take his hand. He guides you closer to him.

“There is something I want.”

He stands up, standing as close to you as possible. You can't tear your gaze away from him. You feel like you're breathing too loudly.

Lestat smiles. “Stop thinking, Chéri.”

His arm wraps around your waist and pulls you against his chest. You have no choice but to look at him. He grins. You can see his teeth. He's not even pretending any more.

“I want a taste,” he says quietly. His accent seems thicker somehow.

“Blood?”

He grins again. Of course, your blood.

“You're nervous.”

You nod your head. Didn't you have every right to be nervous? Vampires exist and head one of them. This man who had been admiring you and your music for so long was showing you his life in the dark.

Relax.

You closed your eyes and grabbed his shirt with one hand. You heard him chuckle. He leans you back, dipping you. You can feel your own heart rate pick up, and you know he knows too.

The hair falls from your shoulder, following the rules of gravity. You're almost tempted to open your eyes and look at him, but resist.

Lestat presses his lips against your skin. You gasp softly. He teases you with small kisses, making sure you feel every single one. You want to kiss him properly. You want his lips on yours.

He chuckles. He's still reading your thoughts. “All in good time, Chéri.”

You don't even get time to process what he's doing next. A sharp pain radiates from your neck and you open your eyes wide. Lestat has bitten you. You can feel your blood in your veins. He's drinking it. Drinking you.

Both your hands cling to him now. Lestat isn't phased by it. He's too focused on how wonderful you taste. You're so warm. So full of life.

Your hand slips from his arm and Lestat detaches himself from your neck. Blood trails down his chin as he looks at you. You're looking up at him through half lidded eyes.

“Beautiful.”

Your breathing is shallow and he knows you don't have the strength to get up by yourself. He lifts you up and carries you back downstairs. He lays you down on the sofa and puts a cushion behind your head.

You look so pretty.

Lestat caresses your hair gently with one hand. He takes this time to admire you. You're still looking up at him. He smiles softly at you. You're dazed. Of course you are. He drank enough to weaken you. Enough for you to have to stay here.

He removes his hand from your hair and cuts his finger with his nail. He gazes at you with an intense look. “Some of you for some of me.” Lestat isn't entirely sure if you had comprehended what he said. Still, he brings his finger to your lips and grins as you take it. You don't even question it.

“Sleep, Chéri.”

You give in and close your eyes. Your hand rests in Lestat's lap. He takes it in his hand, fingers resting over your pulse. He smiles.

When you wake up, you're alone. You sit up slowly and last night comes rushing back to you. The theater, Lestat, your blood. You reach up and touch your neck. There's two little lumps where his teeth had been embedded into your flesh. It wasn't a dream.

You're smiling. Why are you smiling? He bit you. He's real. Lestat is a vampire.

A cup hovers near your face and you look at it. You follow the arm up to find Lestat looking at you. “Coffee?”

You take the cup. “Thank you.”

Lestat takes a seat beside you and leaves his arm hanging around the back of the sofa behind you. You're very much aware of his hand almost brushing your shoulder.

“How was it?” You ask, glancing at him.

He grins, an amused and satisfied grin. “Delicious.”

Your cheeks feel warm. “Better than you imagined.”

“Far better.” His fingers stretch out and brush gently against your hair. The sensation causes you to shiver. Lestat's lips twitch at the sight.

He has you in palm of his hand and you don't even realise it.

“How was it for you?” He asks, eyes not even blinking as he watches you.

“It was….” You trail off as you think about to last night. The feeling of his teeth piercing into your neck. The feeling of your blood flowing through your veins. His lips on your skin, his hands on your body. “It was thrilling.”

Lestat, pleased with your comment, leans forward. You dare to turn your head and look at him. “Do you remember anything else?” He asks.

“I…”

Flashes come from your memory. Broken fragments as he drained you to the point of unconsciousness. The taste of something strange lingers on your tongue. You reach up and touch your lip slightly.

“Blood. Your blood.”

“My blood is inside of you. Rather intimate, non?” He chuckles.

“Why?”

His eyes seem to light up. “You will see soon. Dearest, you have no idea the fun we are going to have. You're going to thrive and you're going to want more.”

You're not entirely sure of his words, but you also don't question him. There's a glint in his eyes you can't decipher.

Lestat leans in closer now touching you. You don't push him away so he makes himself comfortable. His arm rests around your shoulder and he guides you gently into his side. There is no space left between you.

You can't help feeling this is what he was after all along.

@awanderingghost @theprettiesthead @cosmixstar @theblueslytherin @katherine2098 @sawendel @floofdeloop @sitkafay @bigbaddie45 @bluscryn

@secretisme4 @darkqueen1995 @bridkesby @caribbeangal @sarcasticandfangirl @missjadesfics @kaybart19

#the song in our hearts #lestat de lioncourt x reader #lestat de lioncourt #interview with the vampire #dragon's lair

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shitsndgiggs · 1 day

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hi girll !

i saw that you post the long distance relationship with hector that was my request..so thanks 🫶🏼🫶🏼

is that possible to have one more imagine with hector ? like something the reader is an influencer and she became famous really quickly and get a lot of followers. and one day hector dms her and they start talking and few weeks after she went to barcelona for his birthday and to enjoy time with him and they are really closed. (i don’t have a lot of inspiration but at the end, they finished in love…)

thanks !!

OUT IN THE OPEN - HÉCTOR FORT

…

Héctor Fort x influencer! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

My rise to internet fame was nothing short of wild. One day, I was posting beauty tips and lifestyle content for my small group of followers, and the next, my account blew up overnight.

Suddenly, I was an influencer, with brand deals, interviews, and thousands of people watching my every move.

It was surreal, to say the least. But nothing—and I mean nothing—could have prepared me for that DM.

Hector Fort. Yes, the Hector Fort. Barcelona's rising football star, DMing me out of the blue.

It started so casually, with him commenting on one of my photos where I was in Barcelona during a quick weekend getaway: "Next time you’re here, let me give you a real tour of the city."

At first, I thought it was a prank. Maybe some fan account or a really convincing fake profile. But no, the blue checkmark was there, and after doing some internet sleuthing, I confirmed it was him. The real Hector.

I stared at the message for what felt like an eternity, trying to figure out how to respond without sounding like a complete fangirl. I typed out something witty: "A real tour, huh? Is that a promise?"

From there, it snowballed. What started as simple back-and-forth messages turned into daily conversations.

We talked about everything—football, life in the spotlight, my sudden fame, and his matches. It felt natural, easy, like I had known him for years.

One night, about two weeks in, Hector mentioned his birthday was coming up. He was casual about it, but there was an invitation hidden in his words.

"You should come to Barcelona for my birthday," he texted me one evening. "I’ll show you that tour I promised."

The flight to Barcelona felt like it took forever. It wasn’t my first time in the city, but it was definitely the most nerve-wracking. I was finally going to meet Hector in person.

I arrived in Barcelona a day before his birthday, and we planned to meet up at his place later that night.

My stomach churned with nerves as I approached the door, my heart racing in anticipation.

The door swung open, and there he was—Hector, looking even better than in his photos. His smile was warm and inviting, and I instantly felt a little more at ease.

“You made it,” he said, pulling me into a hug, his voice a little muffled as he spoke into my hair.

“I did,” I smiled, relaxing into the hug. “Happy early birthday, by the way.”

“Thanks,” he grinned, pulling back just enough to look at me, his eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and something else I couldn’t quite place. “Come on, let’s make this weekend unforgettable.”

The next few days were a blur of birthday celebrations, late-night talks, and just enjoying each other’s company. Hector was exactly like he’d been over the phone—funny, thoughtful, and always making me laugh.

On the day of his match, I sat in the stands with the VIPs, watching him warm up on the field. I’d never been much of a football fan before, but watching Hector out there, so focused and in his element, made my heart swell with pride.

I was completely lost in the game, cheering him on with every touch of the ball.

When Barcelona scored, I jumped to my feet, clapping and shouting with the crowd. Hector glanced toward the stands, searching until his eyes met mine.

Even from the pitch, I saw the faint smile spread across his face. That moment made my heart flutter.

As the final whistle blew, signaling Barcelona’s victory, the players began celebrating on the field. The atmosphere was electric, with fans singing and chanting.

I watched Hector as he made his way toward the tunnel, but before he disappeared into the locker room, he turned and started walking in my direction.

My heart pounded as he came closer, his eyes locked on mine. I could feel people staring, whispers swirling around me, but I didn’t care. Hector reached the edge of the stands and smiled up at me.

“You came all this way,” he said softly, his voice carrying over the noise of the stadium.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I said, smiling down at him, my heart racing in my chest.

He hesitated for a moment, glancing around at the crowd of fans and cameras. Then, he stepped forward, reaching for my hand. “You know people are going to talk, right?” he asked, his voice low and serious. “They already are.”

I glanced around, noticing the people already snapping photos and recording us. I could see the headlines in my head, but I didn’t care. I squeezed his hand and met his gaze.

“Let them talk,” I said firmly, smiling. “I don’t care.”

Hector’s face lit up, his eyes softening. Without another word, he leaned in and kissed me—right there in front of thousands of people.

His lips were warm and soft against mine, and for a moment, the entire stadium seemed to fade away.

The crowd around us erupted in cheers and gasps, but all I could focus on was Hector. His kiss was gentle but firm, filled with unspoken feelings we hadn’t yet put into words.

When we finally pulled apart, Hector grinned at me, his hand still holding mine. “Guess it’s official now, huh?”

I laughed, breathless. “I’d say so.”

Hector chuckled, giving my hand a squeeze before heading back toward the locker room. But not before turning back and flashing me a playful wink.

#football imagine #football x reader #hector fort imagine #hector fort

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mymoodwriting · 24 hours

Text

Royal Blood

Female!Reader x Alpha!Seonghwa

Genre: A/B/O, Royalty

Warning: Isolation, Illness, Medication, Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Physical Abuse, Anxiety, Social Anxiety, Tears, Thoughts of Death, Thoughts of Suicide, Loneliness, ABO Dynamics, Suppressants, Scent Blockers

Words: 5.3K

Chapter One

(//Next) (@starillusion13)

Prompt: You were a princess in name alone. Unable to perform any of the duties that come with the title. It seemed to be your destiny to live a quiet life. That is until you met someone who refused to see you silenced. Perhaps your fate was wrong all along.

A/N: A new story for Ateez! Please show it lots of love!

“It’s morning, Princess. Time to wake up.”

A gentle sigh escaped your lips as you slowly opened your eyes. You could vaguely make out the sounds of birds chirping outside your window, a soothing little melody to help you welcome the new day. You sat up and did a bit of stretching, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You looked around your room, the only few things that you could call your own. It was the same old stuff from before, nothing ever changed for you. A moment later you were up on your feet, one of your two court ladies helping you dress while the other tidied your room. Your breakfast was served and you ate until you felt full. Then came your medicine. It had a horrendous taste, but was necessary for your health. After drinking that you were left alone.

Most of your life had been confined to this room. The only exception was your evening walk and the family gatherings held in the King’s quarters. Two court ladies waited on you, as well as an eunuch, but they spent most of the day running errands around the palace unless you called on them. In all honesty you rarely called on any of your servants. Besides their basic duties of escorting you around the palace, bringing you your meals, and preparing you for the day, there wasn’t much else they did. Being part of your entourage was probably the easiest job in the palace. For the most part you also dismissed your ladies in the morning, and they only returned to fulfill their daily tasks.

You lived a very solitary life ever since you were old enough to be left alone. It wasn’t entirely by choice, but you understood why you had to stay in your quarters. You were born ill, and it wasn’t something you could recover from. You took medicine daily to maintain what little of your health you had, and you stayed hidden from everyone else for that same reason. You had taken up many things to fill your days. You knew how to embroider, to paint, but unfortunately you could never take up music or dance. It was better to be quiet and not do anything that could cause you injury. Or in better terms, you shouldn’t do anything that could draw attention to yourself. Everyone knew the royal family was ashamed of you, and for the most part you shared in those sentiments. The rumors around the palace were always the same.

“It’s hard to believe the Princess is of royal blood. Everyone would believe she’s illegitimate if not for the fact she’s the Crown Prince’s twin. I suppose since the Crown Prince is so strong and perfect, his twin must be the embodiment of all his weaknesses.”

The royal family has always been known to be strong, every offspring, and every in-law. Any sort of weakness in the royal family was unheard of, so your birth was seen as a bad omen. You were still of royal blood, so they weren’t going to outright kill you. Instead they chose to keep your existence hidden. Not many outside the palace knew a Princess existed, and even some inside had no idea either. As far as they knew, you were just the daughter of some high ranking official, and you weren’t around long enough for them to realize otherwise. Sometimes you wondered why you even bothered to stay alive.

You weren’t exactly in a mood to do anything this morning, so you sat next to your window and looked out at your little garden. You did well to look after your plants, growing flowers and a few vegetables, but they weren’t for you to eat. With your garden so full of color and variety it welcomed other creatures to stop by and keep you company. You got to provide food for butterflies and bees, as well as birds and bunnies. It was nice to watch them come to your garden, but also bittersweet. They lived freely, coming and going as they pleased. You longed for something like that, but the chains that kept you in place ran through your blood.

After lunch you went on your walk. You didn’t go so far from your quarters, so it was a simple stroll through the royal garden, and a little walk around the palace. You walked the same path everyday, and as always kept to yourself. Occasionally you’d get a few glances your way, and heard some whispering about you, but no one ever approached you. They were either busy, or knew better than to engage with you. Not that you’d respond, you didn’t want to socialize with others either. That’s why it was important to walk with some sense of purpose, even if it was just to get back to your quarters. That way you appeared busy, which was another reason for someone not to bother you. At least that’s what usually worked.

“Hello, my lady.”

A gentleman suddenly stepped in front of you, blocking your path. He smiled kindly and offered you a bow. By the style of his clothes, you could tell he was a lord, but certainly not a familiar one. Since he was speaking to you, he was probably new to the palace and had no idea who you were.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The lord reached for your hand, but you took a quick step back. In the process you lost your footing and fell to the ground. He asked if you were alright, and attempted to help you to your feet, but you only scrambled back. Tears stung your eyes as you knew your mother would hear about this whole embarrassment of a situation and scold you for it. On top of that you just felt so pathetic.

“Lord Park!”

One of the guards came over and pulled the other away from you. The lord looked confused, but he was pushed back as the guard stepped forward and bowed.

“Apologies, your Highness.”

“Highness?”

“Lord Park is new to the palace and I am to escort him to his father. He escaped from my sight for a moment. Please forgive me for my failures. It won’t happen again.”

You didn’t respond verbally, but when the guard looked up you nodded to him. He bowed once more before grabbing the lord and taking him elsewhere. You took a moment to steady your breath before attempting to get up. It wasn’t exactly easy given that you were already nervous, so you asked your ladies to help you up. Once you were back on your feet your ladies dusted you off before you continued on your way. You asked them to help you with a change of clothes, knowing what was coming next.

“Your Highness, your presence is requested at the King’s quarters.”

“The King…”

Your nerves went up tenfold when your eunuch came to deliver the news, although you weren’t sure to be afraid or glad. The King never requested your presence, so this was a first. You made sure you were presentable and made your way over. Your arrival was announced and once you stepped inside you realized the real reason for your presence. The King hadn’t requested you, this was just an impromptu meeting of the royal family. Any positive feelings you had about the situation subsided and you bowed before taking your seat next to the Queen.

Across from you the Crown Prince sat, and he smiled at you when you arrived. You offered him a smile back, but merely kept your head down and remained quiet. A conversation had been going on before you arrived, and you only interrupted for a moment. Your presence didn’t change anything, so the others continued speaking as before. One of the court ladies served you some tea, but you weren’t entirely in a mood. These little gatherings never really involved you, so it was certainly pointless to invite you. Although you were a member of the royal family so your physical presence was required.

“Mother, I’ve told you, it’s too early to speak of marriage.” The Crown Prince said. “I have yet to begin my studies to inherit the throne.”

“All the more reason. You need a Crown Princess to help you begin your duties as King.”

“Father hasn’t even spoken of abdicating the throne. And even then, my marriage is not a condition to be King.”

“There are plenty of young and beautiful ladies to choose from.” The King mentioned. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to start looking at your options.”

“Father!”

The room erupted into laughter, and you merely smiled to yourself for a moment. Talks of the Crown Prince’s marriage had been going around for a while now. The Queen brought it up any chance she got, especially during these gatherings. Today seemed to mark the day the King finally joined in on that topic of conversation.

“You bring up a good point my son. I do believe it is time for you to begin the most important studies for the throne.”

“And your Crown Princess can study her duties as the future Queen and your wife.” The Queen added. “It’d be wonderful.”

Even though you felt invisible, and were mostly unwanted, there was still a part of you that wanted recognition. Or at least some sort of acknowledgement.

“Congratulations on your ascension and engagement, Crown Prince. The entire nation will be overjoyed by the news. I promise to do my best with my duties as a Princess to assist you.”

“Nothing’s official.” The Crown Prince spoke with a shy smile. “Simply speaking of it here doesn’t put anything in motion.”

“Nonsense.” The Queen stated. “I will send out a message in the morning to begin your search for a wife.”

“Mother!”

“Let the boy begin his studies and focus on the throne first.” The King interrupted. “A King serves the nation before anyone else. We can talk of marriage once he understands what the throne truly means.”

“Thank you, Father.”

“Let us meet tonight in the Crown Prince’s library. I have something to give you.”

“Of course, Father.”

The rest of the meeting continued on as it usually did. Despite speaking, no one cared for what you said, and you knew it was foolish to speak to begin with. You were the first to excuse yourself, leaving them to speak more freely, but to your surprise a moment later the Queen stepped out, coming over to speak with you. For a second there you thought you had escaped, but nothing got past the Queen.

“You made a fool of yourself today.”

“…”

“Your duties as a Princess?” The Queen scoffed. “You are a Princess in name alone. You are not capable of fulfilling any duties the title actually comes with. Do not expect to assist the Crown Prince with anything regarding his ascension to the throne, or marriage.”

“I understand…”

“Do you? Or did you already forget about your earlier embarrassment? You can’t even act like a proper lady in front of a lord.”

“I… I’m sorry… I-”

“I don’t want to hear it. Is it really that difficult not to draw attention to yourself?”

“Apologies, your Majesty. I won’t cause a scene again.”

You bowed to the Queen as she went on her way, not moving until she and everyone from her entourage were out of sight. You took a deep breath to hold back your tears and then retreated to your quarters. Your court ladies were about to begin undressing you when the Crown Prince arrived. You welcomed him into your quarters, taking your proper seat and keeping your head low.

“What brings you by, Crown Prince?”

“You know I hate when you talk to me like that, y/n. It’s just us here, the least you can do is drop the titles.”

You slowly lifted your gaze, seeing the childish smile on your brother’s face. You couldn’t help but mimic it.

“I wasn’t expecting you, Yunho. You don’t usually visit me after family gatherings, you and the King tend to talk for a while longer.”

“He wants to talk to me later, so I thought I’d bless you with my presence now.”

You chuckled. “Thank you.”

“Anything for my precious baby sister.”

“I’m like a minute younger than you.”

“Which means I’m a minute older, and that makes you my little sister.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it.” Yunho giggled. “So, tell me about your day. I heard you ran into a lord. How was that?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“Come on, tell me, was he handsome? Or perhaps cute? Did he stutter talking to you?”

“Stop it.”

“I wanna know.”

“Well, I fell to the ground and couldn’t speak a word. One of the guards apologized to me and pulled him away. It was just embarrassing.”

“Ouch. That doesn’t mean he won’t try again.”

“As if. He surely knows all about me now and knows to stay away. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to find someone and marry anytime soon.”

“Why not?”

“You haven’t even gotten married yet. There’s no way I’d marry before you. The Queen would never allow it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. You do too. So don’t play coy.”

“Alright. Let’s change the subject then. How are you doing lately? Any interesting updates?”

“Doesn’t my physician tell you everything about my health?”

“What? Yeosang, would never tell me such things.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I would like to hear from you. How have you been feeling?”

“Nothing’s changed, Yunho. My condition is the same. No claws, no fangs, my eyes don’t even change color.”

“I’m certain they’ll come in any day now.”

“That’s unlikely. In my state, I’m just lucky to be alive.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“It’s true. I’m not strong like you, not at all. You’re all grown up and ready to take on the throne, whereas I… I can’t be away from my quarters for too long.”

“You’re gonna get better. Yeosang tells me medicine is always advancing and-”

“I’d just like to live long enough to see you ascend the throne and marry. That would be enough for me.”

“Nonsense. You’ll live far longer than that. You have to be around to meet your future nephews and nieces.”

“We’ll see.”

“It is getting late, so I’ll let you get to bed. Good night.”

“Good night, Yunho.”

As far as you knew the only person who cared about you in the palace was your twin brother, Yunho. From an early age he was separated from you, he was the Crown Prince after all. Yet he made an effort to see you and play with you. He never said anything to your face, but you had heard the rumors all before. Everyone had been telling him not to engage with you, fearing he’d grow ill as well. Of course that’s not how your illness worked, but he didn��t seem to care either way. He was also told that he didn’t have to see you, it wouldn’t make him any less of a King if he did, but to him you were his sister and he wanted to be with you. Even though he sees you less nowadays, he still makes time for you and he treats you as his sister, and nothing less.

Of course all of that was made more complicated considering pack dynamics. The Crown Prince was an alpha, as was the King and Queen. It always had to be that way. Although despite the royal family being predominantly alphas, there were a few betas here and there, like yourself. For the most part the betas were just as strong and powerful, but clearly you were an outlier. As for everyone else who served the royal family, or the nation, they were either an alpha or beta since omegas were forbidden from entering the palace. They were the weakest of all, and could certainly cause problems, so in order to maintain peace and safety, they were not allowed.

There were other means of keeping balance as well. Everyone wore a necklace to help suppress their scent, the royal family included, and the same went for any guests. That way no one would be distracted by anothers’ pheromones. Furthermore, when necessary one would be excused from their duties to deal with heat and rut cycles. That is if they chose not to take suppressants. The palace was well organized so there was rarely any sort of problem in regards to one’s own instincts. It honestly seemed redundant for you to wear a necklace to suppress your own scent since it was already so weak, even the suppressants seemed unnecessary, but everyone had to comply with the rules in order to maintain peace.

“How are we doing today, Princess?”

At least once a week a royal physician comes to check on you. Over the years you had gotten friendly with them, now speaking on a first name basis.

“I’m the same, Yeosang. Nothing has changed, nothing ever changes with me.”

“One must always have hope. I believe you’ll get better some day.”

“Well that day cannot come fast enough.” You sighed. “Don’t give Yunho false hope about my condition.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you report to him about my condition. Don’t tell him I’m getting better or improving when I’m not. He’s gonna start preparing to ascend the throne. He shouldn’t worry about trivial things like my health.”

“Princess.”

“Look after him. That’s the best thing you can do for me.”

“I understand.”

♦♦♥♦♦

Yunho always did his best to fulfill every title he carried. He was the Crown Prince, heir to the throne and future King of this nation. High expectations had been placed upon his shoulders since birth, and he didn’t intend to let anyone down. He was also a son with the desire to make his parents proud, and part of that was making a life of his own. Yunho understood who he was, he knew that marrying for love wasn’t exactly a luxury he had. Still, he could make the most of what he could control. Although he couldn’t forget the other title bestowed upon him. That of an older brother.

It always displeased him to be told he didn’t need to care for his little sister. He understood she was ill, and that others were looking after her, but he couldn’t just ignore them. Even if everyone else did. At the end of the day he loved his sister and wanted to see her find happiness. Lately he hadn’t been able to see her often, and he knew with the abdication of the throne coming up, and potential marriage, he’d see even less of her. He missed his sister at times, missed the days when they were still kids and could play together. Although right now he had great expectations to meet. Perhaps once he became King and was married, when things settled down, he could see her more often. For now he needed to focus on his studies.

The night the King wished to speak with him, Yunho was rather nervous. This was the true beginning of him taking on the throne, and he didn’t want to disappoint anyone. After visiting his sister that evening he made his way to the Crown Prince’s library. There were still so many books he had yet to read, so he was curious what his father wanted to tell him. He waited patiently, reading quietly when the King finally arrived. Since it was just the two of them, and this was more about a father and his son, things were a little more relaxed. At first they made a bit of small talk, but tonight was about bigger things.

“I’m very proud of the man you are becoming.” Yunho’s father spoke. “And I do believe it is time you prepare to take my place.”

“You still have many more years on the throne, father.”

“Perhaps, but I do want you to learn more about our family, and the responsibilities you will come to bear.”

“I understand.”

“Good.”

Yunho watched as his father made his way towards the back of the library. He figured he would recommend a book, but instead he opened a secret passageway, revealing a hidden room in the library. Yunho’s eyes went wide and he followed his father into the new space. More books lined the walls, and a desk was in the center. He could tell many had passed through here before, all the kings before him, and those after him would learn of this place too.

“Woah…”

“This is the Crown Prince’s secret library. These books contain knowledge of our ancestors and our bloodline. Some of this information is unknown to the historians.”

“Unknown?”

“You will come to understand why.”

The King stepped over to the desk, grabbing the book that had been left on it. He looked it over for a moment before handing it to his son.

“Yunho… things are going to change for you from this moment on. I cannot tell you if they will be for better or for worse, as that is something you must decide for yourself.”

“Father…” Yunho stared down at the book in his hands. “I’m…”

“I do not expect you to begin your studies right away. So you may take some time to prepare, but the next steps are upon you. As always you may come to me for guidance.”

“Thank you, Father.”

The King left Yunho in his library, and the boy had much to contemplate. He looked around the hidden room, very curious about the knowledge they pertained. He’d be lying to himself if his father’s words didn’t frighten him, but becoming a king was no easy task. The night was still young, and his own curiosities would not let him rest. Yunho sat down with the book he had been given, wanting to learn more about his family history and the legacy he would uphold.

♦♦♥♦♦

It was easy to get bored when the days were always the same. Although you had gotten used to the uneventful nature of your life. Despite what your court ladies would suggest, you decided to sleep in today. Perhaps your dreams would be more interesting. Unfortunately they weren’t either, but at least sleep helped pass the time. You prepared for your evening walk, rather eager to see the garden. Around this time many of the flowers were blooming, adding to the beauty of the area. You were rather jealous of those flowers. Even if they stayed in one place, at least they didn’t remain the same. They grew and bloomed, changing their colors and shape, beautiful at every point in their lives.

“Princess.”

Hearing your title out in the open was always jarring. You ignored it though, not wanting to presume anyone was talking to you. There was a chance a foreign princess was in the palace, and you were never privy to such knowledge.

“Your highness, please.”

Someone stepped before you, forcing you to stop in your path. They were bowing to you, which was always a strange sight. You wondered who this was until they raised their head. It was the lord from before, Lord Park.

“Apologies for my sudden presence, I wanted to speak with you about our first encounter.”

“…”

“I wanted to properly apologize for my behavior. It was very rude in hindsight, and I suppose what I’m doing right now is as well, but I also want to properly introduce myself. I’m Park Seonghwa, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You took a careful half-step back. The last time Lord Park had spoken to you things ended badly. You understood his intentions, but you had no idea what his end goal was here. Although you were aware of the outfit he wore.

“I’m new to the palace, but I still felt it necessary to meet you. I’ll be working under my father, Minister Park, and look forward to crossing paths again.”

You recognized the name Park when you first heard it, but you weren’t sure if there was a relation. That is until now. The Park family has served the royal Jeong family for generations. Minister Park was the King’s most loyal and trusted advisor, as well as a close friend. The relationship between the two families has always been good, and has served the nation well. You knew the minister had a son that had been sent away to study and learn of the world. Now that son had returned as a man, and would continue to learn and grow under their father. At least now it made sense why Lord Park was making such efforts with you. It was best for him to have good relationships with the royal family, and that included the forsaken princess.

As eager as he sounded, you knew he’d soon learn the truth about your situation. There was no need to engage. That would surely also leave the right impression for him to learn from. You were hidden away for a reason, and things should remain that way. So you said nothing and walked past Lord Park, wanting to return to your quarters and mentally prepare for an unexpected visit from the Queen. Nothing got past her. You could hear the lord still calling to you, probably dumbfounded by your lack of a response, but that wasn’t your concern. Not to mention a moment later you heard someone speaking to Lord Park, scolding him over his interaction with you. Things had to be this way.

At least that’s what you always told yourself. Or perhaps that’s what was always told to you. Either way you accepted it. Once you returned to your quarters you laid down. You really appreciated Lord Park’s intentions earlier, feeling like an actual person, but it was all pointless. It was best to forget about him and move on. Hopefully he’d do the same, or at least get the message your silence invoked. You had your dinner and skimmed through one of your old books, thinking to request something new from the Crown Prince the next time he came by. That reminded you that it would probably be a while before you saw him again. He surely had already begun his studies for the throne, and that would be his top priority.

“The Queen is here.”

You felt yourself grow cold when you heard those words, only stunned for a moment before you got up and greeted the Queen. You already knew what was coming, or perhaps you underestimated your situation. As soon as you raised your head you were met with a slap across the face. You felt the burning throb on your cheek, but you did not move to cradle your injury.

“Is it so difficult to follow a simple command?”

“Apologies, your Majesty.” You bowed. “It was not my intention to cause trouble. The lord approached me on my walk and-”

“Don’t give me excuses. If a simple walk is the issue then just stay in your quarters.”

“What…?” You slowly lifted your head. “What do you me-”

“You have your own little garden here. Since it’s so difficult to not draw attention to yourself you shall remain in your quarters at all times unless you are called upon. Do I make myself clear?”

“Your Majesty-” Your words were met with another slap. “… yes… your Majesty, I understand.”

“The last thing I need is you causing issues when the Crown Prince is preparing for the throne and marriage.”

“Apologies, your Majesty.” You bowed once again. “I won’t be a burden anymore.”

“You still are.”

The Queen left and you remained in your position. It wasn’t until one of your court ladies came to check on you that you finally let yourself collapse. Silent tears had been dripping to the floor, and you soon joined them. With a crack in your voice you dismissed your lady, wanting to be alone. Tears continued to stream down your face, but you didn’t make a sound. You had learned to quietly cry long ago. Your throat burned and ached as you cried for yourself, having no on there for you, no one on your side. As the tears continued to flow you eventually exhausted yourself, passing out on the floor. You woke a while later, well into the night, when you heard some commotion just outside your quarters. You had no idea what it was, nor did you care.

The world outside your quarters was so full of life, even at night, but it wasn’t a world you were meant to partake in. It was very late, and you weren’t going to bother any of your court ladies at this hour. You removed your garments, tossing them off to the side and setting out your blanket and pillow. You were still exhausted from the tears, but you knew you wouldn’t have any pleasant dreams. A part of you hoped you wouldn’t see the sunrise, but that was out of your hands. All you could do was close your eyes and see what the universe had planned for you.

♦♦♥♦♦

“Your Highness, please, it’s the middle of the night, can’t this wait til morning?”

“No. Where is the King?”

“At this hour the King would be in his throne room reviewing petitions. You know he requests that no one bother him during that time.”

“He’ll make an exception.”

Yunho didn’t care for the hour, or the words of his servant. This could not wait. There was only one person in the palace who could stop him in his tracks, and he knew exactly where they were. The King’s servants tried to question why Yunho was there at such a late hour but he ignored them all and stepped into the throne room.

“Your Highness-”

“Leave us.”

None of the servants moved, everyone looking towards the King for a command. Yunho stared down his father, making it clear he had no intention of leaving. After a moment the King noticed the book Yunho held and then ordered everyone to leave and keep a distance. Once the doors shut Yunho stalked up to the throne and slammed the book down on the table.

“You’ve known, this whole time, haven’t you!?”

The King remained calm. “I presume this is about our lineage?”

“Does mother know?”

“She is unaware of the situation.”

“How could you do this!? All these years she-”

“This is necessary.”

“How!? How could you possibly think-”

“The choice I have made was not made lightly.” The King stood. “What I have done is for your own sake.”

“My sake? How is it for my sake?”

“You would not be king otherwise.”

“What?”

“You come here angry and frustrated but you have yet to think of the consequences. That is something I pondered over for a long time. The way things are now guarantees peace. If you disrupt that, you could end up dead.”

“Father…”

“I am the King. The day the throne is yours you may do as you wish, but for now you do as I say. You have a lot to think about but I trust you won’t do anything rash. Am I clear?”

“… yes… your Majesty.”

Yunho took the book back, storming out of the room. His servants had been waiting outside the building, quick to follow him once he appeared.

“Your Highness, please tell me you didn’t do anything to upset the King?”

Yunho didn’t answer, too many things still going through his head. Although he did suddenly come to a stop. Yunho’s gaze turned towards the entrance to his sister’s quarters, unsure of how to feel.

“The Princess is likely asleep at this hour…”

“I know.” Yunho kept walking. “I’m turning in for the night.”

“Yes, your Highness.”

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therealcocoshady · 4 hours

Text

The Hoodie

A/N : Hey guys ! I'm sorry, I'm not uploading a lot, these days. I have been drowning in work for my PhD dissertation... Also, I've been super sick. I actually allowed myself a break for daydreaming about snuggling in Marshall's hoodie 👀. Anyway, here is a little blurb and I hope you enjoy it ❤️.

Summary : you are dating Eminem and you are sick while spending a few days at his place. Ever the thoughtful boyfriend, he comforts you and gives you one of his favorite Detroit Lions hoodie.

CW : Fluff

The Michigan wind whipped through the trees outside, rattling against the windows.Marshall sat at his desk in the corner of his home studio, trying to focus. Beats thumped softly in the background, lyrics half-formed in his mind, but something wasn’t right.A small cough echoed from the bedroom, reminding him why he couldn’t concentrate. You had been battling a nasty cold for days now. You’d tried to play it off at first, but the stubborn fever, the constant sniffling, and the exhausted look in your eyes were impossible to ignore.He sighed, running a hand over his face before standing up. He was busy and he had tons of work to do for his upcoming projects, but he didn’t like the thought of being locked in the home studio while his girlfriend being sick in bed. It felt incredibly selfish. It was bad enough that he had to spend part of what should have been a lazy weekend with you working, and he wanted to be there to comfort you. You’d been together for a little while, nearly a year, and, though he’d been guarded at first, he had come to care for you deeply and it was time to put the feeling in action.

He walked down the hall, pausing at the door to the bedroom. You were curled up under the thick comforter, your nose peeking out from the blankets. Your hair was a mess, but even like this, he couldn’t help but think that you had that effortless beauty that always caught him off guard.“You okay?” he asked softly, stepping into the room.You peeked one eye open, offering him a weak smile. “Been better,” you rasped. “But I’m surviving.”Marshall frowned, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “You should’ve told me earlier how bad it was. You’re burning up.” You chuckled lightly, but it ended in a coughing fit. You waved a hand dismissively once it passed. “Just a cold. I didn’t want to bother you.” Marshall shook his head. “You ain’t bothering me. You should’ve said something.” He stood up, heading toward the closet. “Hold up. You’re always freezing. I got something for you.”

You watched him curiously as he rummaged through a pile of clothes before pulling out his favorite Detroit Lions hoodie. It was old, worn in, and oversized, but it was the softest thing he owned. “That’s your favorite hoodie.”, you pointed out. He smirked, shaking his head. “Yeah, but you’re cold. And if you get better faster, maybe I’ll get it back sooner.” He tossed it onto the bed next to you. “Put it on. You’ll be warmer.” You hesitated for a second but then reached out, grabbing the hoodie and slipping it over your head. As soon as the fabric touched your skin, you melted into its warmth. It was so soft and smelled faintly of him—of cologne and something uniquely Marshall. You buried your face in the collar, sighing contentedly. “Okay, you were right. This is amazing.” Marshall chuckled, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. “Told you. That’s a certified Detroit classic right there. Ain’t nobody who wouldn’t feel better wearing it.” You gave a small laugh, your eyes heavy with exhaustion but a bit of the tension seemed to leave your body as you got cozy in the hoodie. “I’m not giving this back,” you teased, your words a little slurred as you started to drift off. Marshall smiled faintly, watching you. “You keep it. Looks better on you anyway.”.

After a few days, you finally got better. You hadn’t let go of the hoodie. The warmth, the smell, and the comfort it gave you had become your safety blanket. Standing in the kitchen, you caught your reflection in the window—there you were, swimming in his oversized hoodie, the faded Lions logo worn down from years of wear. As much as you loved how it made you feel, you knew you couldn’t keep it forever. You knew it was his favorite and you had come to understand that he could get very sentimental when it comes to certain items. You heard Marshall come in behind you, his steps heavy on the wooden floor. He dropped his keys on the counter and cracked open a bottle of water, taking a long sip before leaning against the kitchen island, watching you with that half-smirk of his.

“You look better,” he commented, his eyes flicking to the hoodie you were still wrapped up in. You tugged at the sleeves, glancing down at yourself. “Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better. Thanks to this, mostly.” You gestured at the hoodie, then gave him a sheepish smile. “Speaking of which, I should probably give it back.” Marshall raised an eyebrow, setting his water bottle down. “Why would you do that?” You let out a soft laugh. “Because it’s yours? And I’ve been hogging it for days now. I mean, it’s your favorite.” He stepped forward, closing the distance between you, eyes narrowing in mock seriousness. “It was my favorite,” he said, his voice low but teasing. “But now it’s yours.” You blinked, surprised. “What do you mean? You love this thing.”. “Yeah, but I love seeing you in it more.” Marshall shrugged casually, but there was an earnestness in his voice that caught you off guard. He reached out, gently pulling at one of the sleeves, the fabric falling long past your fingertips. “You look good in it. Better than I ever did.”. Your heart fluttered, and you couldn’t help but smile, though you tried to downplay it. “I don’t know, you kinda rocked the baggy hoodie look,” you teased. Marshall chuckled, his eyes softening as he gazed at you. “Nah, you can keep it. I’ll grab another one. It’s just a hoodie, anyway.” You bit your lip, looking down at the oversized garment again, fingers tracing the worn-out logo. It felt like more than just a hoodie. It felt like a piece of him—something intimate and familiar, something you never realized you needed until now. “But it’s not just a hoodie,” you said softly, glancing up at him. “It’s yours. It smells like you… and it’s—" You paused, realizing how cheesy you were about to sound. “It’s kinda special.” Marshall gave you a small, crooked smile. “Yeah, it’s special. And that’s why I want you to have it. You’ve been through a lot this past week. It makes me feel better knowing you got something to hold onto when I’m not around.” You looked at him, your heart warming at the sentiment. He wasn’t always good with words when it came to this kind of stuff, but when he was, it hit you right in the chest. You stepped closer to him, arms wrapping around his waist, your face pressed against his chest. “Thank you,” you mumbled into his shirt, your voice muffled but sincere. “For everything.” He rested his chin on top of your head, his arms coming up to hold you close. “Don’t mention it. Just... don’t forget to wash it every once in a while. I don’t want my hoodie to smell like Vicks forever,” he joked, the vibration of his chest making you giggle. You pulled back slightly, smirking up at him. “No promises.” Marshall laughed, shaking his head, but his smile lingered as he looked down at you, still tucked into his hoodie like it was made just for you. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “it’s not about the hoodie. It’s just... I like knowing you’re taken care of. Even if it’s something small like that.”. You tilted your head, your eyes softening as you gazed up at him. “You’re sweet, you know that?”. He groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Don’t start with that,” he muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched as if he couldn’t hold back the smile completely. You laughed and stood on your tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Too late.” For a moment, you both stood there in the kitchen, wrapped in each other’s arms, the hoodie now a symbol of something more between you. It wasn’t just about the comfort it gave you—it was about how it made you feel connected to him, even in the simplest of ways. As you settled back against his chest, Marshall kissed the top of your head, his voice a soft murmur in the quiet of the room. “Keep the hoodie,” he said again, this time almost a whisper. “It’s yours. Like me.”

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem imagine #eminem fluff #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine #Eminem Blurb

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technically-a-kiwi · 2 days

Note

The Meeting

Normally the Cosmic Tower gang kept to their own kind. The other Cosmic entities tended to be weird around them. Intentionally or not, they made the mottled group feel like they didn't belong. After all, they were far more whacky than their serious shining peers. Especially the higher-ups.

Every time they stood next to some other Cosmic, they felt like a mistake.

So they mostly kept to the others like themselves. Noise might be insufferable and whatever was in the ticket booth might be a bit alarming, but it was better than being silently judged by some eldrich horror. They kept to themselves, and the others just let them do their own thing.

Normally.

One particular universe had caught Pizzahead's interest on this fateful day. He had always been fascinated by the Tower in every one. There was always a Tower. If not now, then sometime in the past or future. He loved watching them; a vibrant ecosystem, almost a universe itself in one building!

He watched with intense interest this particular one. He had become invested in the fight between two grey humans - one in a lab coat, one in detective garb - when he felt a painful flare of cosmic power jolt through his body. He jumped forward a couple dozen light-years and then turned around in shock. Another Cosmic entity was standing at the edge of the universe, glaring angrily. "Hey, Wile E! You're in MY territory!"

Pizzahead cleared his throat nervously. He hadn't encountered a "proper Cosmic" in centuries. "My sincerest apologies! I hadn't quite realized how far from home I - YIKES!" Another blazing bolt of pure energy crackled by his head. "OK! I'M MOVING! I'M MOVING!" he screamed, trying to shuffle out of the way. No dice. The other Cosmic lunged at him and grasped the celestial toon by his neck.

"You don't belong here!" he shouted. Pizzahead struggled to loosen his grip. "Then why won't you let me leave...?" he gasped. The proper Cosmic tightened his grip, snarling. "None of you deserve Cosmic power, you least of all!" As Pizzahead was thrown across the starry field, images of countless other Pizzaheads flashed before his eyes, none of them good. But that couldn't be HIM, right?

He managed to get himself standing upright and faced his assailant again, putting up his dukes and bouncing comically. "So that's it? All right then, square up, you - " Pizzahead crumpled like a sheet of paper before he could even get a shot off. He struggled to get up, but it suddenly felt like he was swimming through molasses. The next bolt only lasted a few seconds, but the pain on impact felt like it lasted a hundred times that. He curled up into a ball, wincing.

"I'm like 80% sure you're not supposed to do something like this," he hissed. He could never directly quote any of the rules but he was pretty sure there was one about serious fighting. His opponent leaned down and grinned.

"No one will notice you're gone. Not even your own kind."

Pizzahead whimpered. He hadn't done anything wrong. This guy obviously had a much better handle on his powers than him - Pizzahead hadn't even considered being able to distort time like that! He knew he didn't stand a chance alone. But it was just them two for light-centuries, or so it seemed. He braced himself for whatever came next.

"What in the - " Pizzahead's eyes snapped open when he heard his assailant shout. Stars and galaxies were clustering around him, forming a sparkling sort of makeshift shield. A strange voice came from the universe. "Enough..." It sounded like it had never spoken before that moment. The proper Cosmic started, then scoffed. "A sentient universe? Cute." He waved his hand to one side. "Get out of the way! You are nothing compared to me!" A galaxy wrapped around Pizzahead's hand. "You're on a power trip," the universe stated.

This infuriated the other Cosmic. He prepared the biggest attack he had used yet as he screamed, "That's IT! I gave you a chance to save yourself! You're in MY territory, so I can do WHATEVER I WANT TO YOU!" Pizzahead pushed some of his cosmic power into the universe, not really knowing what he was doing but not wanting all these innocent worlds to come to harm because of him.

The brilliant bolt ricocheted off of the celestial shield and came right back at their attacker. Now it was the proper Cosmic's turn to run away scared, shouting, "I'M REPORTING THIS!" Pizzahead retorted, "YOU STARTED IT!" The universe that he had protected separated itself from him, and he winced as he saw that his power had affected it. It looked for all the world like a floating mustachioed pizza creature. It smiled at Pizzahead.

Pizzahead shuffled in his shoes. "Thanks for trying to protect me. You didn't have to do that," he said, looking down at his feet. A galactic trail touched his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. He's been a pain for a while." The universe looked at itself. "I've... I've been wanting to approach you for a long time." Pizzahead jumped. "Really?" "Yes. You and your friends seem like you'd be the only Cosmics to take me seriously. And well... I guess you did."

Pizzahead looked his new friend up and down. Some subconscious memory was tugging at the back of his mind. Perhaps...? "Well, at any rate, you can't stay here. Wanna crash at my place?" Pizzaface smiled hopefully. "I'd like that."

@chaotichyperfixations been thinking about this all morning and wanted you to see too

Ooooh didn’t expect a full story to come up in my mail today… It’s brilliant !

also I really like how you wrote everything ! clearly you understand the word our Cosmic cast lived in Lawful cosmic.

And Pizzaface’s story here is so cute ! Could work for a lawful cosmic alt story since here Pizzaface isn’t NEARLY as full of himself as he should be.

Anyway, all I wanna say is thank you for taking the patient to write this 🤗! It’s lovely and I had a wonderful time reading it :)

#pizza tower #cosmic au #pizzaface #pizzahead #Lawful cosmic

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jasminerva · 2 days

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What kind of father would Nagumo be?

Saw this magnificent fanart of papa!Gumo and got inspo!

gn!reader co-parent

If you manage to get this man to settle down AND have a kid with you, he (and your kid) is going to make your life a living hell and heaven.

Nagumo would be an unpredictable but fun dad, always coming up with spontaneous activities to keep his kid happy and entertained.

He'd pull small pranks on and with his child, like hiding their favourite toy or sneaking up on them, just to see them laugh when they catch him.

You know peekaboo? Think to the EXTREME! Gumo covering his kid's eyes and VOILA he's a whole 'nother person! (Warning: this may or may not traumatize your child, like, have you seen the videos where babies cry after their dads just shave their beards???) Soon, I'm sure the kid will get used to it and can tell when their dad is disguised better than you can.

Despite his carefree attitude, he'd be fiercely protective, always keeping an eye on his kiddo from the shadows to make sure they're safe.

He'd make teaching self-defence a game, showing his child how to be quick and nimble without making it feel like a strict lesson.

Nagumo would struggle with deep emotional conversations, but he'd always be a good listener when his child wanted to talk, especially if they were feeling down. He'd be on their level (much to your chagrin.)

On that note, you most likely will have to be the 'mean' to his 'fun' parent. Don't even get me started on the 'birds and the bees' talk. He might even volunteer to do it, but I wouldn't count on him to do it properly.

Physical affection would be a big thing for him—playfully ruffling his child's hair, giving them gentle pats on the back, blowing raspberries on their cheeks and bellies, or even picking them up for a hug and swinging them around. Just keep an eye out in case he starts throwing the kid in the air (you can trust him to always catch them, but you don't want either of them getting too carried away).

He'd probably joke around with other parents and show up at school events unpredictably, causing a stir with his antics, but always making his child feel proud and loved.

Nagumo would encourage his child to be independent, letting them figure things out on their own while secretly making sure they're safe every step of the way.

When it comes to advice, he'd drop bits of wisdom disguised as offhand remarks, teaching his child important life lessons in the most unconventional ways.

He wouldn't follow a strict parenting style, instead preferring to give his kiddo the freedom to explore the world, knowing he'd always be there if they needed him.

If his kid ever felt embarrassed or shy about something, Gumo would immediately do the same thing, just to make them laugh and feel better about it.

He would tell white lies / unrealistic jokes to his kid because he believes children and their innocence should be protected (and maybe teased for their naïveté). "Santa is fosho real!" "I went to Area 51 a while back!" "If you eat your carrots, you can see in the dark like me!"

Nagumo would spoil tf out of his kid--whether it's toys or sweets. He'd be responsible for all their potential cavities, but he'd also ensure the kiddo brushes their teeth every time (maybe even using one of those fun songs to count the time, etc). The kid would never think of it as a chore with him around.

When the kid is young-young, like still a toddler/preschool-aged and did things to get them in trouble, Gumo would get scolded along with them (but mostly him, because he should know better and it's probably his own dang influence). When the kid is school-aged, they will get scolded equally (except you can withhold a lot more from Nagumo lmao). I'm going to post a mini scenario of this one within the next few days! Stay tuned!!!

Thank you for brainstorming with me, Memi (@dearsecretlover)! The spoiled rotten with toys and scolding were just 🤌 the best additions!

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simplygojo · 6 hours

Text

The Devil He Made Me - Ch. 6

Authors Note: Finally got this chapter out...I hope y'all enjoy bc shit is about to get real as fuck. As always, please let me know your thoughts by commenting or sending me a message, I appreciate any and lal feedback.oh and don't forget, I LOVE Y'ALL <3

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f/reader

Series Summary : After being found by Gojo and his first year students in a sticky situation, y/n joins Jujutsu High under the close supervision of Gojo. As time passes, the two of you become close, with a strong unspoken bond forming as you work together. Although, there is something dark looming over the situation, and those at Jujutsu High are determined to get to the bottom of it, before it is too late.

Chapter Summary : After battling with multiple special grade curses, y/n spends some time in the hospital so Shoko can run some tests to get to the bottom of the burning question: what was that cursed energy? With all of these thoughts swirling around y/n's head, she decides to discuss the incident with Gojo.

Taglist: @mawhoreagaa; @peqch-pie; @blue-serendipity; @simplyyyuji; @starrnai; @sorcerersseestars; @n1vi; @angryglitterperfection; @krak-jj; @coweringbear; @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni; @cococola-cocaine; If you'd like to be added to the taglist, leave a comment to let me know :)

Word Count : 5.5k

Warnings : mention of injuries, swearing, some tensions, mention of d*eath...

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

The familiar scent of antiseptic filled your nose as you slowly blinked your eyes open. The soft whirring and sporadic beeping of machines and the gentle hum of the infirmary's lights gradually came into focus. It took a moment for you to remember where you were—Jujutsu High, the infirmary. You tried to sit up, but a deep ache in your muscles pulled you back down, reminding you of the battle just days before.

You had been unconscious for just over a day, but the soreness that clung to your body was a fading echo of what it had been. Shoko had healed most of your injuries, and while your body still felt heavy, you were no longer in a significant amount of pain.

A subtle shifting caught your attention, and you turned your head to see Gojo sitting at your bedside.

His long legs were stretched out lazily in front of him, his chair tipped back on two legs in that effortlessly casual way only he could pull off. A playful smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he noticed you stirring.

He wore an off-white button-up shirt, simple and unassuming, and somehow looked better on him than it had any right to. The way it fit him—just snug enough at the shoulders, but loose enough to give him that carefree look to match his attitude.

And then there are those sunglasses, the ones that should be ridiculous indoors, yet on him, they work—like a signature mark of his unbothered confidence. Even with half of his face hidden behind those tinted lenses, you can still see his piercing blue eyes.

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty," he greeted, his voice smooth and teasing, eyes glinting behind his sunglasses. "I was starting to think you'd be out for another day. But I guess you're a bit too stubborn for that, huh?"

You managed a weak laugh, the dryness in your throat making it raspy. Gojo tilted his head—as though studying your face.

"You know," he began, his grin widening, "even unconscious, you’re still causing me all kinds of trouble. What am I going to do with you?"

His teasing tone, paired with the playful glint in his eyes, pulled another laugh from you, this one a bit stronger, though your body still felt heavy. Gojo straightened, his chair landing back on all four legs with a soft thud, before he placed a familiar white pastry box on your lap.

"I brought you a cookie," he said, and as your eyes focused, you recognized the familiar logo from the last pastry box he had got you about a week ago.

“Hmmm, am I having deja vu?” You said teasingly, although your voice was weak.

Propping yourself up with a few pillows, you opened the box to reveal the single chocolate chip cookie—just like the one he'd given you before. "Thought you might want something sweet when you woke up."

His expression softened as he studied your face, his bright blue eyes watching you carefully.

You didn’t even try to stifle the grin that slowly crept onto your face. “You know, you’ve never even asked me if I like sweets.” You teased, a warm feeling growing in your chest.

Gojo rolled his eyes, “These sweets are too good not to like, y/n.” He argued in response, to which you gave him a stern look, and he sighed dramatically. “Fine. Do you like sweets?” He said reluctantly, and you smiled wider in response to his obvious annoyance.

“Yes, I do…they’re my favourite.” You said, picking up the cookie and taking a bite. “This is too good not to like…wow.” You said, covering your mouth, as it was still full with cookie.

Gojo laughed, “I am always right.” There was something different about the way he looked at you now—something gentler than before, more concerned.

You decided to finally ask the burning question, “Gojo, what… happened?”

His expression shifted, the playful mask slipping just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the worry underneath. He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his tosseled white hair as he sighed.

"You don't remember?" His tone was light, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that made your stomach twist. “You and the students were fighting that special-grade curse, remember? You… well, things got a little out of hand.”

The memories started trickling back, one by one. The battlefield, the pressure of cursed energy crushing you from every side. You remembered fighting off duplicates of the curse—one after another—until something snapped. A rush of power unlike anything you'd ever felt before surged through you, dark and overwhelming. The blue energy you had trained so hard to control had been replaced by something else, something foreign and dark.

“Oh, yeah I remember now…Sorry, I’m a little dazed,” you whispered, the weight of the realization hitting you like a truck. “How were there that many special-grade curses there? I thought you said the mission was just one special grade?”

Gojo leaned back in his chair, his arms crossing over his chest as he watched you closely. The playful mask he usually wore was still there, but his eyes, ever sharp and knowing, held a depth that unsettled you. “That’s the thing,” he replied, his voice softer now. “It wasn’t just one special-grade curse, it was multiple—each one a fragment of something larger. They were working in sync.”

The pit in your stomach deepened. You could recall the feeling of being surrounded, the sheer number of cursed spirits far more than you had anticipated. It was no wonder you’d been overwhelmed. “Shoko said she found something strange when she was healing you.”

You frowned, shifting slightly in the bed. “Strange? Like what?”

He hesitated for a moment, his typical lighthearted attitude shifting to a more earnest demeanour. “There’s another cursed energy inside you. Different from the normal cursed energy you’ve been using.”

The weight of his words hit you hard, and you felt your heart start to race.

Another cursed energy? How was that possible? You looked at Gojo, searching for answers, but his expression gave little away. "What does that mean for me?" You asked, your voice wavering slightly.

Gojo leaned back again, his eyes narrowing in thought. “We don’t know yet. That’s why Shoko's keeping an eye on you, and I…” He trailed off, his gaze lingering on you before looking up at the ceiling. “I’m going to be here every step of the way, whether you like it or not."

Before you could respond, the infirmary door slid open, and Shoko entered with her usual calm, unbothered air. She glanced between you and Gojo before speaking.

“Oh, good. You’re awake,” she said with a small smile. “I was starting to wonder if you were going to sleep through the whole week.”

You managed a faint grin as she approached your bed. Shoko pulled out her clipboard, her eyes scanning the notes she had taken while healing you. After a moment, she looked up and met your gaze, her expression turning serious.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she said, her voice low. “When I was healing you, I noticed something unusual. Your cursed energy… it wasn’t just the blue-hued energy you usually produce.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Gojo had mentioned this already, but hearing it from Shoko felt different. More real.

“There’s another source of cursed energy inside you,” Shoko continued, her brow furrowing slightly. “I don’t know how or why, and I can’t see anything on the tests I’ve done, but it’s there, and it’s separate from your own cursed energy. It’s… dark.”

You stared at her, stunned. Another source of power? But how? Why now?

“What does that mean?” You asked quietly, the weight of her words pressing down on your chest.

Shoko shook her head, her expression unreadable. “I’m not sure. And we don’t know how it got there, but its foreign. We’ll have to run some more tests to figure it out. But for now, you need to be careful. That power—whatever it is—could be dangerous if you don’t learn to control it.”

Gojo gave you a reassuring smile, though there was something sharp behind his usual cocky expression. “Don’t worry Shoko. You’ll figure it out. Plus, y/n has me as her teacher, after all. You know better than anything that I am the strongest.”

His words should have comforted you, or at least made you laugh—but the uncertainty gnawed at the back of your mind.

What the hell is wrong with me?

—

You stayed in the infirmary for a few more days while Shoko ran some tests. It was all routine at first, just performing tests on your cursed energy levels, helping you heal some of those stubborn wounds with her reverse cursed technique.

As the days passed and you grew more comfortable around Shoko, your conversations took on a lighter tone. You had expected her to be more distant, but she had a subtle, dry sense of humor that made you laugh, even in your exhausted state.

On the second evening, as Shoko finished up another round of tests, she pulled a chair up beside your bed, setting her clipboard down. “You’re healing well,” she said, her usual neutral tone softened. “We’ll have you out of here soon, hopefully.”

You smiled faintly. “Thanks, Shoko. It’s been kind of nice getting to know you more.”

She raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Don’t get too used to it. I’m not that interesting.”

You chuckled. “Somehow, I doubt that. You’ve got to have some stories, being friends with Gojo and all.”

Shoko leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Oh, Gojo? Yeah, there are plenty of stories, most of which are probably better off unsaid.”

Your curiosity piqued. “Come on, I’m stuck in bed here! Give me something. How was he back then?”

She sighed in mock reluctance before a small smile spread across her face. “Alright, alright. There was one time… Well, this was back when Gojo and—” Shoko hesitated for a second, her expression darkening slightly, but she quickly recovered. “—when Gojo and his best friend were still students here. His name was Geto Suguru.”

“Geto?” you repeated, unfamiliar with the name. “I don’t think I’ve heard of him.”

Shoko’s eyes softened a little, and for a moment, there was a quiet sadness in them. “Yeah, you wouldn’t have. Suguru was… He and Gojo were like brothers. They used to be inseparable.”

You blinked, surprised. It was hard to imagine Gojo having a best friend—someone close enough to understand him on that level. “What happened to him?”

Shoko looked down for a moment, her voice becoming more sombre. “It’s… complicated. Let’s just say he took a different path. It’s not something Gojo talks about much, but they were close. Closer than anyone would think.”

There was a brief silence between the two of you, the weight of her words sinking in. You could feel the layers of history, the unspoken grief in Shoko’s tone, and it made you wonder just how much Gojo had buried beneath that playful exterior.

Shoko cleared her throat, shaking off the mood. “But, anyway. Gojo’s always been the same—cocky, infuriatingly powerful, and completely insufferable when he’s right. There was this one time he convinced Suguru and me to sneak into the teachers’ lounge at night because he wanted to prank Yaga. Nearly got us all expelled.”

You laughed softly, trying to picture a younger Gojo pulling off one of his infamous schemes. “I’m guessing it didn’t go as planned?”

“Not at all. Yaga caught us halfway through. Gojo had rigged this ridiculous trap to dump confetti on him when he opened the door, but instead, it went off on us. We were covered in glitter for days.” Shoko shook her head with an amused smile. “Suguru was so mad. I thought he was going to kill Gojo right then and there.”

You laughed at the image, imagining a flustered Gojo trying to explain himself with confetti raining down around him. It was hard to reconcile the carefree man you knew now with the version of him Shoko described—someone who had once had a deep bond with someone else, someone who had experienced loss.

“Do you think he misses him?” You asked quietly, the question escaping before you could stop yourself.

Shoko looked at you for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. “I think he does, in his own way. Gojo doesn’t like to talk about the things that hurt him. He hides behind that grin of his, but… yeah. I think he does.”

You nodded, feeling a pang of empathy for the man who had become such an enigmatic figure in your life. Maybe there was more to him than just the confident, teasing exterior. Maybe, beneath it all, Gojo carried his own burdens, just like the rest of them.

Shoko stood up, stretching her arms over her head. “Alright, that’s enough reminiscing for now. You rest up, and if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll tell you more embarrassing Gojo stories tomorrow.”

“Looking forward to it,” you said with a grin, feeling a bit lighter despite the heaviness of the conversation.

As Shoko left the room, you couldn’t help but think about the person Gojo used to be, and how much of that was still hidden beneath the surface.

—

Once you had recovered fully, you found yourself training harder than ever before, trying to tap into this newfound source of energy. Gojo, ever the confident mentor, pushed you to your limits, testing how far you could go before the black energy resurfaced.

At first, it was difficult—frustrating, even. The black energy was slippery, elusive, always just out of reach until it wasn’t. But with each passing day, you felt it more clearly, a flicker of something cold and sharp beneath your usual warmth of cursed energy.

Megumi, Yuji, and Nobara were a constant source of support for you, and they really didn’t need to be—but they wanted to help. Whether it was their own curiosity or the friendship you had developed over the past month, they stuck around.

Training with them made the days more bearable, and their playful banter helped ease the tension that weighed on your shoulders.

One afternoon, you found yourself sparring with Yuji while Nobara and Megumi sat on the sidelines, doing some homework for another class they had. Yuji, ever the ball of energy, was throwing everything he had into the match, but even he couldn’t help but crack jokes between strikes.

“C’mon, y/n, is that all you got?” he teased, dodging one of your kicks with ease.

You grinned despite the sweat dripping down your face. “Just wait. I’m holding back so I don’t embarrass you.”

“Like that’s possible, you were just unconscious for a day, y/n. Don’t get cocky!” Nobara sarcastically scoffed from the sidelines, earning a chuckle from Megumi, who was trying to hide his amusement.

The laughter and camaraderie between the four of you made the discovery of this dark energy less daunting, and the uncertainty less frightening. You felt supported—more than ever before. But even with all the training, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.

‘How did I get here?’ You thought while grabbing some water during a short training break. It’s not like you could answer that question; you still have next to no memories of your life before this—before discovering jujutsu sorcery.

You had no clue what you were doing here, but you knew you had very little choice in being here, it was all you knew now. You just had to do your best.

The black energy inside you was growing stronger, more insistent. But you wanted answers now, living in a constant state of unknown was becoming unbearable.

—

In the days following, you recalled scenes from the battle with the special grade curses. One of the curse's words replayed in your mind like a broken record. Each time you tried to push it away, the memory clawed its way back, gnawing at the edges of your thoughts.

As you sat alone in your room, your hands idly tracing the bandages still wrapped around your torso, the curse’s voice echoed: "Do you feel it…It's almost time for you."

You couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that came with those words. What had it meant? Why had it focused on you, singling you out with such terrifying precision?

Before being found by Gojo, I had never been around curses…right?

—

Later that evening, as the sun melted into the horizon, bathing the school grounds in an orange glow, you crossed paths with Gojo again. His usual carefree grin was firmly in place, but by now, you knew better—that smile often masked something deeper.

He stood leaning against one of the chainlink fences just outside the outdoor training grounds; his blindfold was nowhere to be seen and was replaced by a pair of dark grey rectangle-shaped shades.

It was after teaching hours, so Gojo wore his casual clothes: just an oversized black long-sleeved shirt—though it seems he had cut the neckline, as it exposed more of his collarbone than a normal shirt would, paired with some grey sweatpants.

For whatever reason, whether it be your newfound appreciation for life after nearly dying, you got a warm feeling in your chest (and between your legs) when you saw him. ‘Does he always look this good?’ You thought to yourself as you waltzed up to him, interrupting his concentration on whatever video he was watching on his phone.

“Hey,” you called out, your voice softer than usual. The fading light caught in his messy white hair, making it shimmer, and he turned his head towards you with a raised brow, his curiosity piqued.

“Hey there, walking all by yourself?” He teased, provoking you to roll your eyes with an amused smile. “Thought it was a better idea than walking with you.” You said, biting back at his quip. He let out a laugh and slid his phone into the pocket of his sweats.

“You think you’re funny now? Good lordd…What’s on your mind, y/n?” He asked, sensing the weight of your thoughts.

Despite your humorous banter, his expression shifted—he could tell you were troubled.

You hesitated, biting the inside of your cheek as you tried to find the right words. “Well, I’ve been thinking…that one curse during the battle… it said something. You were there. It talked about it being ‘almost time for me.’” Your eyes searched his, which were barely covered by those sunglasses, needing to know if he had any answers. “What do you think that meant?”

For a moment, his smile faltered. Barely noticeable, but you caught it. He took a slow breath, his hands slipping into his pockets as he stepped closer, the space between you narrowing.

“I’ve been thinking about that too,” he admitted, his tone more serious than usual. “Curses don’t talk just to talk, especially not special grades. I hate to say it, but they’re smart—they know things.” His eyes softened as they locked onto yours, his concern noticeable.

The cryptic warning from the curse still hung heavy in the air, and despite Gojo’s presence, the unease gnawed at you—it had been gnawing at you since you regained consciousness. You wanted to lean into Gojo’s usual lightheartedness, let it wash away the fear creeping up on you, but tonight, it wasn’t enough to quiet the storm brewing inside.

“Why me?” You muttered, mostly to yourself. “Why was it focused on me?” Despite your attempts to stifle your fear, you couldn’t stop your voice from shaking when you spoke.

His grin faded, replaced by a more thoughtful expression as he sat down on a nearby bench. He leaned back slightly, hands still in his pockets, the playful mask he usually wore slipping just enough for you to see the worry beneath it. “Y/n,” he said softly, motioning for you to take a seat beside him, and you followed his motion.

“Curses sense things in people, sometimes for a reason, sometimes because they catch on to something we don’t even realize. But this… was definitely not random.”

A chill ran down your spine. “So what do you think it meant then…when it said it’s ‘almost time for me’?”

Gojo's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than usual, and his blue eyes, usually so carefree, held something deeper now as they looked into yours—an intensity that made your breath hitch. He leaned back on the bench, tilting his head toward the darkening sky, as if searching the sky for the right thing to say.

The orange glow of the setting sun illuminated the chiselled features of his face, and you couldn’t stop your thoughts, ‘God, he looks good.’ It was that moment, waiting for Gojo’s reply, when you realized how close the two of you really were, your legs practically touching as you sat beside each other.

“I wish I knew,” he said after a pause, his voice quieter than usual, almost…gentle. "But what I do know is that curses don't just say things for no reason. Especially not special grades like that. Something’s up."

You sat down beside him, feeling the space between you shrink, though neither of you touched. The warmth from his body seemed to seep into the small gap, but there was an undercurrent of tension, something unspoken yet real in the air between you. His presence was normally a comfort, but tonight, it felt different. Almost charged.

He turned his head slightly, and his eyes met yours again—but this time his gaze was steady, unwavering. “Whatever it saw in you,” he continued, his tone low and serious, “you really don’t need to worry about it—you shouldn’t worry about it at least.”

Your pulse quickened at the way he said it, so casual yet laced with empathy and care. But you were unsatisfied with his answer.

Did he actually just say that to me after I almost died?

“You’re really telling me not to worry!?” You said, feeling the emotions in you start to bubble up within you. “Not to worry? Really Satoru?! I have next to no memories of my life, I suddenly woke up in a forest, surrounded by creepy-ass-curses, and nowww you jujutsu-people want me to fight them!” Your voice raised subconsciously as your emotions continued to rise up in you.

“Not to mention I almost died last week, and while I was in the middle of ‘almost-dying,’ a special grade curse practically threatened me—me personally! And you are sitting here telling me not to fucking worry?!” By then end of this you were practically out of breathfrom the volume of your voice.

“And you know what-” Before you could continue, you were cut off. “I don’t like it when you say it like that.” He said barely above a whisper, his voice sounding almost…sad? You could feel his eyes wandered between yours, searching and darting back and forth. “What the hell are you talking about?” You snapped, still frustrated and heated from your rant.

“My name,” he said softly, his eyes not shifting from yous. “I don’t like it when you said my name in such an angry voice.” Immediately, your frustration was gone, and your expression resembled that of a dear in headlights.

“Satoru?” You said, your head tilting to the side a bit, reflecting the confusion you felt.

“Yes, when you’ve said it before, you said it so nicely, so softly, it sounded so good hearing my name come from you.”

His words hung in the air between you, soft yet cutting, and your heart stuttered at the unexpected vulnerability in them.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out, his confession leaving you at a loss for words. It was a side of Gojo you had never seen—one that wasn't hidden behind his usual cocky smirk or casual confidence.

The air around you seemed to shift, thickening with a tension you couldn't quite place. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as the weight of his gaze held yours, his eyes searching your face, as if trying to find something in you that you weren’t even sure you could give.

“I…” You faltered, your earlier anger dissipating into confusion, but something else lingered beneath the surface—something deeper. Your pulse quickened again, not from frustration but from the strange sensation creeping up your spine.

Gojo’s eyes softened, and though he hadn’t moved closer, the space between you felt significantly smaller. “I get it, y/n. I know all of this is… a lot for you, for anyone.” He said quietly, practically mumbling. “I know things are uncertain and terrifying, but you’re not in this alone.”

The sincerity in his voice cut through the storm of thoughts in your head, leaving you feeling exposed—raw.

You wanted to stay angry, wanted to hold on to that frustration because it was easier than the vulnerability you felt creeping in.

But with the way he was looking at you now—steady, unwavering, almost tender—you felt something inside you waver. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t break the eye contact the two of you held; it was like some external force was interfereing.

Gojo’s expression shifted, the usual teasing smile nowhere in sight. His hand reached out, hesitating for just a moment before gently resting just above your knee. His touch was warm, grounding, and that warm tingly feeling began to creep back in.

“I’m telling you not to worry because, I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said quietly, and the blatant seriousness in his voice sent a shiver through you.

There was something unstated in the way he said it, something more than just a promise of protection. It was intimate, a layer of meaning underneath his words that you weren’t sure you were ready to acknowledge.

You looked up at him, your breath catching as you realized how close he was now, his hand still resting gently on your thigh, his eyes locked on yours.

You could feel the heat radiating off him, his presence overwhelming in a way that wasn’t just comforting—it was something else entirely. Something that made your pulse race for a reason.

“Satoru…” you whispered, his name falling from your lips—softly this time, as it did naturally.

His expression stayed mostly unchanged, but you could’ve sworn his eyes widened, just a fraction, in response.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the tension between you thick and palpable. You could feel it—the unspoken pull—the way your heart ached.

The way his gaze dropped to your lips for the briefest second before flicking back up to your eyes, made a heat begin to pool between your legs.

The air around you was charged, and your mind drifted to how easy it would be to just close that distance, to let whatever this was finally spill over and consume you.

Gojo’s hand tightened ever so slightly on your lower thigh, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. His voice was low, almost a whisper when he spoke again, and oh boy you were not prepared for what words left his lips next. “Say my name like that again,” he murmured, “Please, y/n.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to disappear, the only thing that mattered was the space between you and him, and the feeling that, if you took just one step closer, everything would change.

"Satoru, I…" Your voice was breathless, almost as if saying his name had taken something from you, pulling you closer to a line neither of you dared to cross.

But just when it felt like you were teetering on that line, your nerves took over. “Thanks for your help,” you blurted, your legs shifting away form him, breaking the contact between his hand and your skin. The moment, electric and intimate, cooled almost instantly.

Gojo blinked a few times, his hand falling to his side, the intensity of the moment fading as you harshly forced the distance back between you. “I’ll try not to worry, like you said…” You continued awkwardly.

He exhaled softly, and that smartass smile returned to his pretty face once again. "Right… You never have to worry when you’re around me. I’m the best the jujutsu world has to offer." He teased, his voice returning to its usual casualness.

You stood up, looking down at him as you stood in front if him. “Well, I’m gonna get going, Shoko says I should still be resting when I can.” You said, gesturing to the directions of the dorms, and Gojo just nodded in response, leaning back against the bench again, his arms spread over the length of it, his eyes looking up at you—and you were standing so pretty in front of him.

“Goodnight, Satoru.” You said with knowing smile, your gaze lingering for a bit too long befor eturning around and walking back towards the school.

—

The room was thick with tension as the leaders of Jujutsu society sat around the large oak table, their expressions grim. The clan leaders, flanked by stern-faced assistants, wore the air of authority and tradition, while Principal Gakuganji sat at the head, his face as cold and unyielding as ever. The atmosphere was stifling, the weight of the conversation about to unfold already heavy in the air.

Yaga stood off to the side, arms crossed, his face betraying his frustration. Utahime sat beside him, her brow furrowed, glancing between the higher-ups with a mixture of disbelief and quiet anger.

"Principal Gakuganji," the leader of the Kamo clan spoke first, his voice even and measured. "It has come to our attention that there are certain… disturbing developments regarding y/n y/l/n."

The leader of the Zen’in clan, Naobito, gave a snort, his arms resting lazily across his chest. “Disturbing is an understatement.”

Gakuganji leaned forward slightly, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table. "Explain."

The Kamo clan leader continued, casting a disapproving glance toward Yaga and Utahime. "It appears that a certain conversation between two first-year students at the Tokyo school—Itadori and Kugisaki—was overheard. They were discussing a special-grade curse y/n encountered during a recent mission." He paused, letting the implication settle before continuing. "The curse in question reportedly said something about it being 'almost time' for her."

Naobito’s eyes gleamed with a predatory smirk. “A fucking ticking time bomb. That’s what she is.”

Utahime tensed beside Yaga, fists clenching under the table. She opened her mouth to speak, but Yaga beat her to it. "This is ridiculous," Yaga snapped, his voice firm but controlled. "You're basing this entire accusation on what? Something a curse said during battle? That's not enough to—"

"It’s more than enough," Naobito interrupted, his voice sharp, dismissive. “Special grade curses don’t make empty threats. They know what they’re sensing. If a curse says something is 'almost time' for her, that means she’s a threat.”

“She’s already unleashed an unknown cursed energy,” the Kamo clan leader added. "A power even Gojo Satoru hasn’t been able to fully identify or control. Not that he is even trying. That in itself is dangerous enough. She’s unpredictable. Unstable."

Gakuganji’s fingers stilled, his gaze shifting toward Yaga. “And from what we’ve seen… she could be harboring a greater threat. We cannot allow an unknown force like this to develop under our noses. We must act before it becomes too late.”

“Act?” Utahime’s voice rose, incredulous. “You’re going to condemn her for something she hasn’t even done yet? For something none of you fully understand? This is insane!”

Gakuganji’s steely gaze flickered toward Utahime, his expression unreadable. "This is not a decision taken lightly. We understand the complexity of the situation. But the safety of the Jujutsu world cannot be compromised by unknowns."

“She’s an unknown that Gojo Satoru himself is monitoring!” Yaga countered, his voice rising. “Do you really think he would put the entire school at risk for someone he didn’t trust? He’s been training her personally.”

Naobito’s lip curled in a sneer. “And yet, even Gojo can’t seem to keep her under control. And he doesn’t seem to be doing anything about the threat either, that jack-ass…”

The third clan leader finally spoke up. His tone was measured, but there was no mistaking the finality in his words. “She is too much of a risk. An unknown factor in an already unstable world. We cannot afford to wait and see what this cursed energy inside her might become.”

Yaga took a step forward, hands slamming down on the table. "You're talking about a student! A human being! Not some weapon you can discard when it suits you."

“We’ve made our decision,” Gakuganji said, his voice flat.

“For the safety of all sorcerers and the entire country, y/n y/l/n is to be executed by the end of the week.”

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