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anniebeemine · 2 months

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Pavlov Would Have Had A Field Day With You- s.r x fem!reader

In college, I had to do an experiment for my psych class where we had to conduct a Pavlovian experiment on someone. I chose to play a certain song every time we drove somewhere. It’s been almost a year and she still texts me every time she hears the song. Sometimes I feel guilty, but I mostly love that she’s forced to think of me every time she listens to it

Warning: suggestive sexual tones

“It’s fascinating how classical conditioning can create automatic responses in people,” Spencer said, leaning forward in his chair, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. “For example, Pavlov’s dogs started to salivate not just at the sight of food, but at the sound of the bell he rang before feeding them.”

JJ rolled her eyes good-naturedly, and Emily chuckled. "Spence, only you would make classical conditioning sound exciting."

You smiled, amused by Spencer’s enthusiasm. “It is interesting, though. You can get someone to respond in a certain way without them even realizing it."

Spencer nodded, clearly pleased that someone else shared his interest. “Exactly. It’s all about the association between a neutral stimulus and an unconditioned response.”

You leaned back in your chair, smirking slightly. “You know, I think I have you classically conditioned, Spencer.”

Spencer looked at you, a curious eyebrow raised. “Really? How?”

You held his gaze, the smirk widening into a teasing grin. “A lady never reveals her secrets.”

Spencer’s eyes narrowed in playful suspicion. “Come on, you can’t just say something like that and leave me hanging.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I guess you’ll have to figure it out on your own, Dr. Reid.”

Morgan, who had been listening in, chuckled. “Sounds like she’s got you wrapped around her little finger, pretty boy.”

Spencer blushed slightly, but his curiosity was piqued. He tilted his head, trying to analyze the situation. “You’re bluffing. If you had me classically conditioned, I would have noticed.”

“Would you?” you asked, feigning innocence. “Maybe it’s something so subtle you’ve never even realized.”

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, but then hesitated. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he mentally reviewed every interaction the two of you had ever had.

“Okay,” he said slowly, “give me a hint.”

You shook your head, maintaining your playful demeanor. “Where’s the fun in that? You’re supposed to be the genius. Figure it out.”

Spencer leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “You’re really not going to tell me?”

You met his gaze, your smile never wavering. “Nope.”

Spencer stared at you for a moment longer, then sighed in defeat. “Fine. But I’ll figure it out eventually.”

You chuckled, knowing full well that Spencer wouldn’t rest until he did. “I’m sure you will, Spence. But until then, it’s my little secret.”

The rest of the team exchanged amused glances, clearly enjoying the banter. Spencer tried to focus on the paperwork in front of him, but you could see the wheels still turning in his mind.

Every so often, he’d glance your way, as if trying to catch you in the act of conditioning him. You simply smiled back, giving nothing away, leaving him to ponder the mystery.

Little did he know, it wasn’t anything grand or elaborate. Just a small habit you had formed—gently tapping his shoulder every time you needed him to focus on something important. It was a tiny, seemingly insignificant action, but you noticed how his attention would snap to you the moment your fingers brushed his shoulder, no matter what he was doing.

The rest of the day passed with Spencer occasionally glancing your way, his mind clearly still churning over your little revelation. You let him stew in his curiosity, knowing that the anticipation would only make the moment sweeter.

As the evening approached, most of the team had either left or were wrapping up their work. Spencer was still at his desk, engrossed in a file, but you could tell he was distracted. His gaze flicked toward you more often than usual, and there was a slight furrow in his brow as he tried to figure out what you'd meant earlier. You decided it was time to show him exactly what you meant.

Standing up from your chair, you made your way over to his desk. His eyes followed you, though he tried to keep his focus on the file in front of him. When you reached his side, you didn’t say anything. Instead, you casually scooted closer, settling into the chair beside him.

He gave you a questioning look, but you just smiled and reached up to tie your hair back into a ponytail, deliberately slow in your movements.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the exact moment Spencer realized what you were doing. His entire body tensed, and his gaze darted around the room as if expecting someone to catch him. A light flush crept up his neck, and he subtly adjusted his position in his chair. You had to bite back a smile when you noticed him grabbing a file from his desk and placing it strategically in his lap.

"That’s not fair," Spencer whined, his voice low and tinged with embarrassment.

You couldn't hold back your laughter any longer. "What’s not fair, Spence?"

He glanced at you, his cheeks now fully flushed. "You know what," he mumbled, trying to hide behind the file, though it did little to conceal his reaction.

You leaned in a little closer, your voice soft but laced with mischief. "I told you I had you classically conditioned."

He groaned, clearly mortified but unable to deny it any longer. "Every time you put your hair up…"

"You get a little excited?" you finished for him, grinning from ear to ear.

Spencer buried his face in his hands, the file nearly toppling from his lap. "This is so embarrassing.”

You gently nudged his shoulder with yours. "Don’t be embarrassed, Spence. It’s kind of cute."

He peeked at you through his fingers, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Cute?"

"Yeah," you said, your tone softening. "Besides, it’s just a reaction. You can’t control it. And honestly, it’s flattering."

He finally lowered his hands, still blushing but no longer trying to hide. "You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?"

You shrugged, unable to keep the teasing out of your voice. "Maybe a little."

Spencer shook his head, a small, reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "You’re going to hold this over me forever, aren’t you?"

You pretended to consider it, tapping your chin thoughtfully. "Forever is a long time, but… yeah, probably."

He groaned again, but this time there was a hint of a laugh in his voice. "You’re impossible."

"And you’re adorable," you countered, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. You glanced around before lowering your voice. “I could help you fix your little issue.“

Spencer's eyes widened slightly at your suggestion, his blush returning with full force. He glanced around the nearly empty office, suddenly very aware of the quiet that surrounded you both.

"Y-You mean right now?" he stammered, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

You smiled, enjoying the effect you had on him. “Why not? It’s not like anyone’s paying attention,” you teased, lowering your voice further so only he could hear. “Besides, it’ll give you a chance to learn how to break that little conditioning problem of yours.”

He swallowed, clearly torn between the temptation and the absurdity of the situation. His eyes darted toward the door, then back to you, a mixture of nervousness and excitement dancing in his gaze.

You stood up, your movements casual as you gathered your things. “See you in five,” you murmured with a wink before heading out, leaving Spencer to gather himself.

He watched you go, his heart pounding in his chest. After a few moments, he pushed his chair back and grabbed his bag, trying not to appear too rushed as he made his way out of the bullpen.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reidx reader #spencer reid fluff #fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut

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dragonnarrative-writes · 3 months

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Transferrable Skills Part 2

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

You don’t often use your MyFet beyond finding a group or conference to attend. You periodically clear out your messages, just in case an acquaintance wants to reach out. So you almost delete the message from the anonymous profile on autopilot, but the subject line intrigues you.

Interested in Distance Play, No Punishments - 14 Hrs Ago

Intrigued, you open it because… at least they read a little bit of your profile.

I noticed your profile because of your self-rope pictures. The rest of your profile is very interesting to me - specifically your engagement in solo play and dislike of punishment. I liked the post you made about obedience as an ongoing active choice.

I’m a man in my 30s with a classified job. I travel a lot, and I’m looking for someone to have a strictly long-distance arrangement with. I’m interested in: non-restrictive rope, obedience, behavior modification, praise. I’m sure there’s more, but I’ve written this message six times. Please let me know if you’re interested in discussing.

Well, that’s refreshingly straightforward and devoid of unsolicited smut. You read the message again, then click into his profile. G_987654321_ It’s… pretty bare. But if he’s got a classified job, that makes sense, right? Location: Antarctica. His age is listed as 33, and he’s listed himself as dominant and seeking acquaintances and play partners. Not interested in hookups, interested in casual nudity, obedience, praise. Hard limits of degradation and humiliation.

It’s not much more information than the message itself, but it’s more than some of the men who have asked if you want to meet up in private. You review his original message and bite your knuckle. Worst case scenario, he’s some troll who will call you a range of slurs and waste your time, and then you’ll block him. Best case scenario… he means what he says.

What are you looking for? Who, What, When, Where, and Why?

You send the message and log out of the app before you can chicken out. Your inner voice is grumbling (stupid stupid stupid), but that’s normal. You let yourself watch two and a half episodes of your latest show, and then make a hearty dinner.

You’re surprised when you pick your phone back up. One new message.

The whole time you’re cursing the app for glitching and logging you out and forgetting your password, you’re sure it’s not him. Most likely, it’s an event announcement from a friend or a bot. But you like going to events, so it’s worth it.

It’s a message. It’s from him.

Who: You and Me What: Praise-based, goal-oriented obedience play When: Twice weekly when we’re both available, but I won’t always be available. Sometimes weekly, sometimes a greater time between meet ups. Where: Virtual meetings. Video preferred, audio-only acceptable. First couple of discussions will be text based until I can get secure video set up. Why: Mutual relaxation and well being. Sexual connection preferred, but obviously not required.

Having a guide was helpful. Thank you.

Well… That’s something.

—

You follow Simon towards the fighting, which is not where you wanted to go. When you point this out, he barely acknowledges except to say “You don’t want to go the other way.” So you keep low and stay quiet and breathe like he told you to.

He leads you down a few halls and you don’t bother trying to remember the route. He seems to know where he’s going. One or twice he has you stop while he checks around a corner, but eventually, he herds you into a small conference room. You freeze when you see three men, but Simon drops the muzzle of his gun to the floor, so you must not be in too much danger.

“Who’s this then?” A man in tactical vest and boonie hat steps forward, and you sidle behind Simon before you know your feet are moving. He gives you a considering look before looking to Simon.

The man in question fishes you out from behind his and plants you in front of him with a heavy hand on your shoulder. “Found Bambi wandering the halls.”

Boonie Hat’s eyebrows pop up. “Bambi?”

“’Bout scared the piss out o’me,” Simon confirms.

“Well, that throws a wrench in things,” the other man says. “But there’s nothing for it. Stow her for now, we’ll keep her safe.”

Simon’s hand guides you to the other side of the large table and pushes you gently into a plush rolling chair. He puts his huge body between you and the others, who look at you curiously,

“Eyes up, li’l fawn,” he intones.

You aren’t sure how well you hide the flinch when you see the skull covering his face, again. He’s quiet as you look between his eyes, clasps his gloved hands in his lap so you can see them when you look over him.

There’s a lot of him to look over.

Now that you’re not moving, you can see the brown spots on the edge of his mask, flecked on his tactical vest. His thighs spread a bit beneath his black pants where they meet the table. His biceps bulge, which is a whole different experience in person than it is online. Theres a gun on his hip, and a knife. Two knives. Three. How many knives does a man need?

Enough for everyone’s throats. You have to bite back terrified giggles.

“You’re gonna stay ‘ere,” Simon tells you, interrupting your musing. Your horror must be plain on your face because he shushes you, again. “Shhh. Easy. This wing’s secure. Can’t keep you safe if I’m wonderin’ where you’ve wandered to. Acknowledge.”

“What if something goes wrong?” you blurt.

“You follow Price if you can't see or ‘ear me. ‘e's the Captain, outranks me,” Simon answers. He points to Boonie Hat, then to the black man, who smiles at you, and a white man with a mohawk, who looks at you like you’re the most fascinating thing he’s seen all day. “This is Gaz, that's Soap. You can't find the Captain, you sit tight and wait for one of them to retrieve you."

“But-!”

“Acknowledge, Bambi.”

You swallow back tears. “Please don’t leave me alone.”

“’M goin’ where the guns are,” he answers. “’S my job to take care of you, right? Acknowledge.”

It’s hard to get the words out, but you do. “Acknowledged. You have to take care of me.”

“’M not always going to be able to do that the way you want. Acknowledge.”

“Acknowledged. Not always the way I want.”

“’M gonna keep you safe as I can,” he says. “’Nd it’s okay that you’re scared. But this is my job. ‘S not a scene. So I can’t negotiate. Acknowledge.”

“It’s your job,” you say, taking a deep breath and letting it out. Unfortunately, you can feel the day catching up with you, and your eyes start to prickle. “It’s not a scene, we can’t negotiate right now. Acknowledged.”

The one called Gaz approaches from the other side of the table. “Ghost, we’ve got to get moving.”

Before you can integrate the realization that Simon is apparently called Ghost, the other one, Soap, peeks around Simon’s shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “This your bird, LT? Le’s get her tucked away, aye?”

Something about the way he asks if you are Simon’s bird, his girl, flips a switch in your brain. Because you’re not Simon’s girl. You’re not even supposed to have ever met in person. You’re an online sub, a weird, awkward, anxious person who couldn’t find an in person connection. And yeah, Simon-Also-Called-Ghost is an online Dom but apparently that’s because he’s running around Europe rescuing people from hostage situations!

It’s a little much.

You suck in a breath through your mouth as everything gets blurry with tears. Your whole body shakes with the sob that you try not to let out. You simultaneously want to lock every muscle in place and curl up on the ground to die.

A hiccup shakes you hard enough that you almost fall out of your chair.

Simon’s gloved hand grips the back of your head, and you’re guided to press your forehead against his thigh.

"Shhhhh," he whispers, and you can almost pretend that you’re listening to him in your ear from thousands of miles away. His pants are tough and scratchy, nothing like your pillow, but the steady pressure of his hand is so steadying. "It's okay. I know this isn't a scene, but the same rules apply. You feel overwhelmed, don’t know what to say, you hold up 4 fingers. No punishments for feeling something. Show me."

Holding up 4 fingers feels familiar. The way his hand cups the back of your skull doesn't. But it's still nice.

Sooner than you’d like, Simon guides you down off the chair and under the table. You can’t pay attention to the others, though you can see their boots on the other side of the room. Instead, you keep your eyes on his his right hand, stuck on the inane detail of skeleton themed gloves. Your dom wears skeleton gear to work. His work is killing some people and saving others.

That hand cups your chin and makes you look up into his face. His eyes are dark, piercing. His voice, when he speaks, sends shiver down your spine. “Stay. Acknowledge.”

You’re already about as low down as you can get, but you still duck your head as much as you can while keeping eye contact. “Acknowledged. Stay.”

His thumb caresses your cheek for a long moment. And then he’s standing. Chairs are pushed in to surround you, and four pairs of heavy boots dash from the room.

You curl up, hug yourself, and let the tears fall.

You wake up with a start. Your whole body hurts, shoulder and neck and hips tight like they haven’t been in a long time. And of course they are. You’re on the ground, lying under a conference table. Why the hell are you under a conference table? You’re not in college anymore, you’re too old for this shit.

And then you see a pair of huge boots round the edge of the table and remember.

Your heart is in your throat as two chairs are shifted away and a huge form drops into a crouch. A part of you flinches back from the mask, the tactical clothing, the blood you almost can’t see shining on his boot. But then you see those eyes and think, Oh. You came back for me.

#dragonnarrativewrites fanfiction #transferrable skills #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #kink fics #manic pixie dream ghost #I love this story so damn much #and i am so moved and honored and full of so much love i could burst that so many people have told me they love this story too #there's so much more of this already written #(so so so much more wow)#i genuinely forgot to post because i've been so excited to write it

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kissingchoso · 2 years

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guys who you’re in a friends with benefits relationship in but they can’t help but to act like your actual boyfriend. he picks up your favorite food whenever he’s coming around to your place, has an entire drawer in his bedroom that’s dedicated to your clothes you’ve left over the months, texts you clingy messages to the point where anyone reading would rightfully assume you’re dating!

him: ‘there’s a new art exhibit opening tomorrow in the city. let’s go. we can get lunch after.’

he’d proceed to send you a link of the museum you’ve been meaning to go to for some time now. the exhibit looks promising as a lot of the new art have been made by a lot of individuals across different countries, all with the focus of environmentalism and the human body. to say you were intruiged was an understatement.

you: ‘that sounds fun!! there’s this really delicious korean bbq place not too far from there too! pick me up at 10 ^^'

he shows up at 9:30, claiming he didn’t want to be late but he likes to watch you finish your entire routine. he even takes the liberty to make sure your purse is fully packed, even putting your wallet back on the top of your dresser just to make sure he’s the only one paying for everything today.

when you finish and turn to him to get his review, he grabs you and pulls you in close. “you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever laid eyes on, you know that?” he asks, head tilted slightly to the right and a growing smile on his lips.

you return the smile tenfold, his heart racing at your reciprocation. not wanting to smear off the lipgloss on your lips, he places a couple of kisses on your forehead, nose and cheek before pulling away finally and handing your purse to you.

he takes you on the best date ever. from the museum, photo ops he took of you, even to the delicious restaurant afterwards, he’s fully satisfied with how it ended up being. the shine in your eyes when you are having genuine fun with him. it’s never awkward nor filled with uncomfortable silence. the conversation is genuine through and through and you love it.

it gets even better when you ask him to come back and stay the night. you two share a secret dance where only the two of you know. his hips are unrelenting the whole time while his fingers constantly rub against that special spot that leaves you panting and wanting more. round after round, it’s never ending. his movements are so cruel but his words are sweet, leaving you properly dizzy and at his complete mercy.

“last one pretty girl,” he groans from above you, hips snapping against your ass while he has two right fingers rubbing nonstop against your clit.

all you can do is whimper from beneath him, grip on your perfectly cleaned sheets becoming looser as time progresses.

he hisses when you clench around him, unable to stop his hips from shaking when you actively are performing kegels on his cock. “fuck i’m gonna cum,” he grunts from above you. “cum with me, pretty. you can do it, i know you can.”

he coaxes his last orgasm out of you with no issue, prompting his own release not too long after. his seed fills your wet cunt, already having some escape through the crevices the longer he stays buried in your holy but he can’t help himself. you’re just too warm.

the only time he lets you go is when your body can’t hold itself up anymore and you collapse forward in bed. there’s a hiss from him when he slips out of you but he’s comfortable to watching the show in front of him, which is when his cum dribbles out of your aching pussy and staining the innocent sheets below. he’s immensely proud of you and shows it by leaving kisses up your backside until he reaches your cheekbone.

it pulls you out of sleep momentarily, long enough to hear his question, “still want me to stay the night, honey?” always the one to make sure.

all you could do is nod and mutter out a please before he’s fully assured.

don’t worry your fuzzy brain any longer. just go to sleep while your not-boyfriend gets your room settled by turning your fan on for the night and your little nightlight you have by your bathroom door. once the overheads are off, he’s tucking himself back into your side so that he can greedily pull you into his arms and doze off for himself.

tanaka, bokuto, HINATA (im biased), ARAN (also biased), osamu, suna, GETOU, yuuta, kazuha, zhongli (but only bc this man loves fwb relations), kaveh, DILUC, aether, CHILDE, AYATO, and ofc any of your favs <3

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harlowsbby · 8 months

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Cater 2 U 💘

Requested, Giving Jack a little spa day at home I feel like he’d appreciate it so much and would honestly love it.

When Jack was finally able to make it back home after a long day at work he was beyond grateful. Today hasn’t exactly been the best of days.

He’s been in meetings nonstop that we’re back to back to seemed like, he had Neelam and Drama in his ears nagging and just frustrating him all day.

Urban obviously knew his friend was on the verge of a breakdown so he had texted you prior to Jack coming home and letting you know that he wasn’t feeling that well.

When he finally managed to unlock the front door he sighed in relief and quickly shut and locked the door.

He made his way into the living room and was a bit taken back massage bed that sat in the middle of the living room.

“Baby?” He called out for you. “Why do we have a massage table in the middle of the living room? Did you steal this?”

Next to it was a mini table with a few of your skincare products and a few little tools he’s seen you used whenever you did your skincare.

“No I didn’t steal it you silly.” You smiled as you made your way over to him. He smiled upon seeing you and placed a kiss on your lips.

“So if you didn’t steal it why is it here? I need to make sure to lock my credit card.” He tried mumbling that last part but you heard him loud and clear.

“That isn’t nice.” You elbowed his side making him hiss. “No what you just did wasn’t nice.” He said.

“Always.” You rolled your eyes. “This is for you Urban called me earlier and said you’ve been stressed out all day.” You told him.

“So I figured why not doing a little spa day at home for my man.” You grinned.

Jack chuckled and shook his head at you he was honestly amazed and impressed but he was also beyond grateful to have someone as amazing as you.

“Thank you baby I appreciate this I really do.” He said and you smiled. “Go ahead and change into something more comfortable while I set everything up.”

He went upstairs and changed into a pair of sweats and a white t-shirt and made his way downstairs. “You ready for me?” He asked.

You smiled and nodded your head. “Yes I am just lay back on the bed and I’ll do the rest.” Jack laid down flat and you grabbed his face softly.

You started off by putting on one of your many spa headbands you used whenever you did your skincare routine.

“What are you doing first?” Jack asked. “Ima start off by plucking a few of your eyebrows because I’m sorry but you’ve been looking like a caveman.” You stated and Jack gasped.

“Yeah ima definitely give you a one star review after this session.” You both laughed. You leaned forward and plucked a few of his eyebrow hairs.

Once you were done with that you grabbed Clay face mask and applied it evenly all over his face and let that sit for about fifteen to twenty minutes.

When the timer was done you grabbed a wet washcloth and wiped his face clean and went in with your face serum. When the serum was applied on his face you grabbed your Gua Sha.

“What the hell is that?” Jack eyed the took suspiciously. “It’s a Gua Sha.” He took the tool and inspected it.

“A who? What does it do? I don’t want no weird shit on my face babe.” You smacked your lips and pushed him back down on the bed.

“It helps tone your face like it helps with your jaw line and makes it sharp.” His mouth formed into the shape of an o.

“Are you trying to say I have a double chin coming in?” His hands immediately started rubbing his face trying to check and see if his chin was hanging.

You giggled. “I mean you have been eating out a lot with Urban.” He gasped.

“Oh that’s just rude.” You giggled again. “Just be quiet and let me work.”

He raised his hands in defense. “Yes ma’am.” When you finished using the Gua Sha you went ahead and rubbed in the serum into his face which gave him a natural glow.

“What are you gonna do now?” Jack asked. “I’m going to put this lip mask on your lips it makes them feel hydrated because I’m tired of kissing your chapped lips.” You joked.

“Damn I didn’t know my masseuse was allowed to talk to me this way, ima need to speak to a manger or something.” He joked.

“Mhm you’re speaking to her, now shh and let me put this on you.” Jack relaxed into your touch.

You took the thin sheet mask out of the package carefully not wanting to rip it once it was finally put you placed it on Jack’s lips.

“I’ll be right back I’m going to clean up and put everything away.” He put a thumbs up and closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax.

While you were putting everything away and cleaning up your little mess Jack ended up falling asleep.

He hasn’t felt this relaxed in ages he was beyond grateful he was able to call you his because honestly he wouldn’t know what to do without you.

“Ima take the mask off now and then you can go ahead and take a show-.” You stopped mid sentence upon hearing a snoring Jack coming from the massage bed.

“Ain’t no way.” You chuckled but nonetheless you took one of the blankets that laid on the arm rest of the couch and wrapped him in it.

“Sleep tight Jack.” You placed a kiss on his forehead and allowed him to get some much needed rest.

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you

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vivwritesfics · 3 months

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DOG SITTER FIC! DOG SITTER FIC! DOG SITTER FIC! (You already know who lmao)

Lewis has a new dog sitter while he's away filming. She just so happens to be cute af

everybody say thank you to Tiff for being the reason Beth and i were talking about this -- but also if i've got his dog's name and stuff wrong i might cry lmao

Part Two

(moodboard by @nurse-sainz)

It was a little terrifying, having a stranger stay in your house to look after your dog. But his friends swore that she was the real deal. A qualification in animal care and enough good reviews on her business social media.

But she was still a stranger in his house, looking after Bodie while he was away filming. He'd met her the day before, showed her around his house and gave her the few instructions she'd need to look after Bodie.

But Bodie was instantly taken with her. Tail wagging so hard he was almost falling over as she said hello.

Lewis couldn't stop himself from watching her. Sitting on the floor, Bodie climbing into her lap to sniff and lick at her face. "Yes, yes," she said through a laugh as she scratched behind his ears. "It's lovely to meet you, too."

Her laugh was melodic. She gently pushed him off, stood up and wiped at her trousers. "He's lovely," she said, still grinning. "I'd be more than happy to look after him." She grabbed her bag from the banister post and pulled out a few sheets of paper, stapled together. It was all very professional, he noticed. "Just shoot me a text once you've read through and signed it and I'll be there when you need me."

Lewis flicked through it quickly and looked at her. "Can you start tomorrow?"

Now there was a stranger in his house, looking after his dog while he was on the other side of the country. While he wasn't filming, he couldn't stop himself from wondering what she and Bodie were doing in that moment.

On his second day away from home, Lewis got his first picture from her.

Bodie on her lap, staring down at the camera. The corner of her face, half of her smile, was just visible. Miss you, dad! - Bodie she'd written just beneath.

Missing you too, Bodes! He replied.

The next picture came the next day. Bodie sat by her feet on their morning walk. He was stood to attention, waiting for her to throw a stick or something, Lewis assumed. He's been so good, she'd texted him.

I'm glad, he replied. How have you been? It was simply being polite, wasn't it? Simply, he was asking how she was finding his house, how she was finding taking care of Bodie.

He didn't mean for it to spark into an entire conversation. But she replied to him and then he replied to her and then she replied to him and then he replied to her.

It never turned unprofessional. No, just a dog sitter talking to her employer. She sent more pictures of Bodie, including a video where he fetched a stick. When she disappeared (to walk Bodie home), Lewis couldn't stop himself from feeling disappointed. But she returned quickly and the conversation resumed.

The next week continued on in this manner. Texts, pictures and such. Lewis began looking forward to pictures and messages from her, even when she pretended to be Bodie messaging him. The better pictures had been saved to his phone.

Bodie at the beach, Bodie having a nap, Bodie on the spare bed with her.

There was maybe a week left of filming when Lewis got a phone call from her. She hadn't called him before, always opting to text instead. For some reason, it filled him with an insane amount of anxiety.

He swiped his thumb across his phone screen. Immediately, Bodie's face filled his screen. "Hey Buddy," he said and Bodie let out something of a snort.

But she was nowhere to be seen. "Is everything okay?" Lewis asked as he tried to catch a glimpse of her.

And then her face came into his view. He didn't mean for his breath to catch in his throat when he saw her, cowboy hat on is head. The cowboy hat that was normally hanging from his wall.

"Thought Bodie wanted to actually speak to his dad," she said, eyes shutting and voice coming out muffled as Bodie climbed up her to lick her face. "I love you too, Bode, but your daddy is callin'."

Lewis let out a whistle. As soon as he did, Bodie turned towards him and let out a little yap. "Yeah, boy," she said and scratched behind his ear. "That's your daddy."

"Nice hat," Lewis said, unable to hide his grin.

She pulled it down slightly, playing the part of the flirty cowboy. "Ma'am," she said, deepening her voice and putting on a country accent.

Lewis put the phone down, propped up on a counter top, and stepped back, revealing his outfit. "Holy shit!" She laughed as she looked at him, at the leather chaps and plaid shirt he was wearing. "You're a fucking cowboy!"

"I'm a fuckin' cowboy," he answered, grabbed his brown hat and put it on his head.

She was smiling so damn wide.

And that was when Lewis realised he had a crush. He had a goddamn crush on his dog sitter.

#lewis pullman #lewis pullman imagine #lewis pullman x reader #lewis pullman fluff #lewis pullman x you

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ohnococo · 8 months

Text

Fight Night | CHAPTER 7 | MMA Fighter!Sukuna x Reader

When Sukuna finds out who his next opponent will be, you get a few breadcrumbs about his past.

Warnings: light breast play

FIRST CHAPTER

LAST CHAPTER

what are you doing?

You have to give Sukuna some credit for this one, it’s closer to a “hi, how are you” than he’s gotten before.

chilling at home

You wait for his reply, settling back on your couch, throwing your legs up and crossing them at the ankle as his next text comes through quickly. You pull one of your small throw pillows onto your lap, resting your arms on it as you wait for whatever it is Sukuna wanted to talk about.

alone?

His response has you chuckling to yourself as you pull the pillow up higher to rest your chin on. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was about to come onto you, but you know that isn’t the case now. Still, you can’t resist teasing him.

okay fuckboy

He’s even quicker to quip back,

we’re not fucking remember? and I’m not some boy

It was a fair response, one you could tell by now was typed with a smirk, and you’ve already got a smile of your own plastered across your face as you invite him over without thinking.

lol sure. you can come over if that’s what you’re asking

You believe Sukuna when he says you both agreeing to this had strengthened his resolve to make it happen. Or rather, make it not happen, not unless you said so. Surprisingly you did want to wait a little before you resumed the non-stop fucking that had been the start of your time with him. It’s not lost on you that the time spent talking instead had resulted in something more solid to hold onto with him, instead of just the butterflies in your stomach and the warmth in your chest.

When you read Sukuna’s response you’re doubly sure you’ll be able to control yourselves with him being in your home for the first time, you’ll have something important to focus on now.

it is. I have a name for the fight.

The excitement is bubbling up inside of you immediately, and you sit forward on your couch, tossing your cushion aside as though it were hindering your typing.

whoooo???

You’re sure the name will mean nothing to you until you have a quick search, but as you receive his next message you find you won’t even need to do that much.

Aoi Todo. My team sent me a fight compilation

You piece things together quickly then. He wants to come see you, he’s just got a name and a fight compilation to review, and he wants to do it with you first. You’re flattered, even if you’re sure he’ll have a handful of other actually useful viewings with his training partners and coaches.

when can I come over?

Right fucking now, you think. Then you respond.

Right fucking now

You’re casting your laptop onto the TV, video at the ready thanks to the link he’d forwarded you. Then, you settle in right next to him, leaning into the strong arm draped across the back of your couch as you wait for the reveal of this rookie. The video starts, and you see it’s a little pre-fight reel not unlike the ones you’d seen of Sukuna. The man is big, not as big as Sukuna, but intimidating as he crosses his arms over his bare chest and smiles at the camera as it circles him slowly. Shots of him delivering flashy yet punishing spinning high kicks to boxing bags and taking down training partners are intercut with close ups of him sitting in front of an empty gym and talking.

You wait for subtitles to come up, unable to understand Japanese, and when they don’t you look at Sukuna who catches your eye for a moment before he realises he’ll need to act as translator.

“He’s introducing himself.” He looks back at the screen as he speaks, pausing every so often to catch Todo’s words. “Aoi Todo… 24… from Kyoto… he aims to end his fights before the final round…”

Sukuna stops talking, scrunching his nose up when the man becomes more and more animated as he speaks, finishing with a flourish of waving hands as he flexes and smiles at the camera. He sighs and slides his arm from the back of the couch to wrap around you, pulling you further into him, heavy hand settling on your hip. When you look up at him, tilting your head to indicate you still want him to fill you in, he sums up the end of that portion of the video with an unimpressed sigh. “He’s bragging. Saying he’ll win for some girl.”

The video cuts straight into other footage of him actually fighting, moving shockingly quickly despite his considerable size. He ducks and dodges a flurry of punches so fast you can’t imagine how he can even process the movements, and as he starts returning hits even as he dodges you glance over at Sukuna who was beginning to look mildly impressed.

As the commentators speak excitedly Sukuna assures you they’re mostly recounting exactly what you can see, though he offers the odd commentary himself on technical aspects, noting Todo’s speed and strength were nothing to be taken lightly. Then, after one well timed kick that sends his opponent off of his feet and onto the ground, he’s kneeling over them, pummeling them until the referee steps in and puts a stop to it. True to his word earlier, the fight is finished in the first round.

He stands, winking and blowing a kiss directly at the camera as he points cutely with the other, one leg up and hip cocked to the side. Then the video cuts to another fight. It’s more of the same to you, but as Sukuna offers his thoughts you find that it was worth including along with the other one, apparently having given him some insight about how he handles avoiding takedowns.

As much as you try to pay close attention to the fists flying, you find your eyes drifting to Sukuna more and more often. He’s so focused, enjoying himself as he watches this newcomer who seemed to offer much much more than he’d anticipated. It seems he’d only come in on short notice because he was newly signed, having been with a company in Japan for only a year before he was poached by the organisation Sukuna was with. It also seemed like Sukuna thought he’d be able to have some fun in this fight after all. Seeing the excitement in him makes a little excitement swell within you as well, but when you catch the steep drop in video quality out of the corner of your eye you bring your attention back to the screen.

It’s a fight in a small arena, with a sparse crowd and someone clearly filming on a phone. The fighter’s shorts aren’t covered in logos this time and neither is the floor of the ring, and you surmise it’s from before he was signed. It’s an impressive fight nonetheless, with Todo really showing off his skills as he takes the chance to try flashy moves when he has a little bit of distance from his opponent’s strikes. When a particularly good hit lands, or he evades a takedown, the video goes shaky, the cameraman apparently unable to help themselves from clapping and cheering along with the few loud people there - presumably his team from how closely they were seated.

Then, the cameraman starts shouting something at the men fighting and Sukuna’s hand tenses on you for just a second before it’s relaxing again. You glance at him from the corner of your eye, and see that look of his when he’s trying to give nothing away, then his attention is back on the screen, as is yours, when Todo tries and succeeds in landing a spinning kick.

You’re impressed, Sukuna doesn’t seem to be anymore.

The crowd is cheering, and the cameraman is clearly jumping up and down as everything on screen is a blur. Then, the cameraman turns the phone on himself as he screams and points excitedly, and the resemblance is clear enough to leave you feeling like the wind has been knocked out of you. His jaw isn’t quite so strong, but that nose is spot on, the eyes too if they weren’t so wide and happy and a slightly different hue, even the hair is the boy's unique colour of choice, though more pink than Sukuna’s ever had been. And even if he doesn’t have the tattoos, of course, or the gnarled ears, and even if the still-healing cuts on his brow are a far cry from the hardened scar tissue on the man next to you, it’s still almost like looking at a baby-faced version of Sukuna.

The tension is pouring off of Sukuna in waves, you don’t even chance a glance at him now, feeling like asking questions would make whatever was happening worse. So you say nothing, focusing on the tv as the video cuts to yet another fight. Sukuna isn’t commentating anymore. He’s just staring through the television, looking tired, and by the time the video ends, he seems to have done some thinking.

He makes a confession, but it doesn’t really seem like what was actually on his mind. “I’ve heard of Aoi Todo before. When he was a teenager.”

“Did you train with him?”

He shakes his head, eyes still looking at the now black tv screen. “No, I didn’t.”

His mouth stays open, like there’s more coming, then shuts and tenses into a line. You assume the missing part is that the pink-haired boy did.

“That’s the first I’ve seen of him fighting professionally. He’s good.”

Something about the look in his eye, and the distance in his voice made your chest hurt. It was like he wasn’t there, and you hated it. So, you turn to him, climbing up to sit sideways on his lap and wrapping your arms around him. It occurs to you that you’ve never hugged Sukuna properly, and it’s like hugging a statue for a moment as he stays still, hands by his side. Then, he’s wrapping his arms around you, pressing his face into your chest, and sighing.

“He’s not good enough to beat you though.” You hope that’s what he needs to hear, enough to make up for the words you don’t know how to find for whatever was bothering him about his relation to that boy. “Right?”

He chuckles, and his breath is hot enough to be felt through the fabric of your shirt, before he lifts his head and looks up at you from where his face was nestled between your breasts.

“Of course not.” The sparkle is back in his eyes, and he tilts his head back down, kissing at your chest as he slowly returns to his usual self, “But it’ll be fun.”

You run your hands through his hair, smiling down at him as he gently bites at your breast, back in a playful mood. “You’ve got a weird idea of fun.”

He looks up at you without tilting his face upwards, raising his brows in a judgemental stare. “So do you, sitting on my lap and putting those tits in my face when we’re meant to be playing nice.”

He tugs your shirt up, giving him one less layer to deal with as he continues kissing at the parts of you left uncovered by your bra. You’ve got goosebumps immediately and your nipples are hardened as he adds his tongue into the mix.

“You’re lucky I’m committed to our little deal.” He pushes your bra upwards too, freeing your breasts and leaving more fabric uncomfortably gathered high on your chest. You aren’t concerned with that once he’s ghosting his warm mouth over your nipple, stopping short of actually taking it between his lips as he watches you tilt your head back with the shiver his touch sends through you.

Still, your wits aren’t entirely gone yet. “I don’t think I’d call this playing nice, Sukuna.”

He flicks your nipple with the tip of his tongue, pulling your attention back down as you gasp slightly and lock eyes with him, “We’re not fucking right now, are we?”

You consider the grey areas of such a half-baked agreement, and whether this fell into that. Then, as he goes back to kissing at your breasts, you wonder whether you actually care right now. Your eyes shut again as you arch into him, squeezing your thighs together while he licks and kisses at your skin, already so sensitive even from such a short time without his touch.

Then he sucks your nipple between his lips hard, and pulls back until it pops out of his mouth and makes you jump, attention pulled to his face again rather than getting lost behind your closed eyelids. He reiterates his unanswered question with a pointed, but playful, tone, “Are we?”

You shake your head, accepting the slide into the grey area, as long as you get to keep his mouth on you for a little longer. His hand comes up to roll his fingers across the nipple left out from the attention of his mouth, drawing a moan from you as he hums happily at having a face full of your breasts. The noise has you clenching with want, but you manage to find your senses yet again.

“So you’re just going to get me wet and leave me hanging.”

He lifts his head to look at you again, tongue sliding out to continue to lick slowly at your nipple as he considers his next words before speaking, “I can take care of that without fucking you.”

It’s tempting… too tempting, and you have to struggle to think clearly. Sukuna moves his hand from playing with your hardened bud to groping at your breast, kneading with a firmness that was surprisingly restrained.

“I think-“ you pause again, taking in more of the feel of his hot mouth on you, offering another moan in lieu of words, rocking your hips lightly.

“You think?” He’s forcing you back on track, wanting to hear you try to speak while he teases you like this.

“I don’t know…”

“You don’t know?” He wants you to keep speaking, but you haven’t made up your mind yet, so you change the subject.

“When you said you were trying not to fuck me…” you trail off, warm feeling growing in your chest and cheeks at the same time to meet with the warmth pooling in your panties.

“Yes?”

“Even when you invited me to your house?”

He sighs, and the cool air against your wet skin has you shivering again. He slides his hands up and down your exposed sides slowly, as if to warm you up. Then he shoots you a look that stands in sharp contrast to how gentle his touch was, clearly not a fan of having his failures brought up, “Even then.”

Your laugh barely conceals a moan as he takes a greedy mouthful of your breasts, and he flicks his gaze up at you with that half-serious look of warning, but you’re still laughing until his face softens and he’s shaking his head and sighing as he closes his eyes and opts to shut you up by sucking hard at your nipple and flicking his tongue at it.

It works, for a moment, until you decide to just speak with the breathless tone that betrayed the fact that he had your pussy throbbing with want. “Well you didn’t seem to regret it.”

He’s sighing again, though you catch that bemused twitch of his brow even as he’s trying to turn his face out of your view, withdrawing his mouth’s attention and nuzzling his warm face into your breasts. “I never do.”

“But why are you so hellbent on not fucking me then?”

You can feel it as his jaw tenses and he looks up at you with the blank expression that you know means he’s choosing his words carefully. Then he sighs, and shrugs out the sentiment, “It occurred to me that you might think I was being disrespectful.”

“Disrespectful?” He shoots you another look, knowing from the pleased lilt in your voice that you were starting up with him. “So you’re saying you respect me?”

He’s exasperated with the apparent vulnerability of it all, despite how to him it was obvious enough to not need saying. He even rolls his eyes as he realises he’s grown too accustomed to accommodating you to even think of shutting it down. “Yes.”

“You respected me even after dragging me around town fucking me sloppy style all night?”

The way you phrase things exhausted him sometimes, and he lets you know as much with a scoff, but answers nonetheless, “I felt we had a fairly understanding friendship.”

The statement stops you in your tracks, tingling feeling at the back of your neck making it feel wrong to continue teasing him. After all of that, or rather before all of this you hadn’t considered yourselves as having a friendship. Hell, with the two months of radio silence you’d downgraded it from having even been a situationship, but the thought that he’d considered you friends leaves your face feeling hot.

Then, it occurs to you that maybe that was just what being friends with Sukuna was like. Well, less the getting railed part, and more the slight distance. Communicating when it was time for it, putting a wall of separation up when there wasn’t.

That wall doesn’t seem so high now though, so you smile down at him, hugging him again, and this time his face is pressed firmly to your bare breasts, though he holds back from getting another mouthful and instead wraps his arms around you too.

He takes that as an affirmation of your friendship, and your understanding, eventually turning his head to the side to avoid being smothered by your chest entirely. Neither of you let go though.

When he speaks you’re surprised to find him electing to bring up the subject you’d avoided earlier, volunteering the information with an uncharacteristic hesitance in his voice, “My brother trained with Aoi Todo…”

His next words are more to himself than to you, “I guess he still does.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother.” You want to know more, but still have those alarms in the back of your mind warning you to tread lightly.

“We don’t speak. He still lives in Japan.”

You can feel his grip on you loosening ever so slightly, like he’s gone somewhere in his mind that you can’t reach, then, his grip returns and you try to hold back shivers when you feel his lashes tickling at your skin as he blinks. Eventually, he looks up at you, face calm as he’s effectively casted away whatever thoughts were plaguing him.

“While I’m here, why don’t you show me your animals.”

Your eyes wander around the room, trying to figure out what the hell he was talking about, “huh?”

“Your game. The one that isn’t for children.”

“Animal crossing?”

He nods, and you know he’s just changing the subject. But if it’s too much, you respect that, and nod, wiggling until he releases you so you can get off of his lap to grab your Switch, tugging your bra and shirt back into place as you go.

You can’t help suspecting he was very much having the same feelings you’d had earlier as he spoke passionately about the fights on the screen. He is listening, asking you questions about the little carefully decorated spaces you were showing him, even teasing you for the nickname one of your villagers had given you, but his eyes often wander from the screen to you, smiling. Though he doesn’t try to pretend it isn’t happening, he watches you openly with his arm around you and his side pressed into yours.

As you conclude your tour, thanking him for humouring you, he shrugs and seems genuine with his statement, “I suppose it is charming in its own way.”

Despite the sincerity, you can’t help narrowing your eyes at him, still somewhat dubious.

He indulges you by expanding only slightly on his thoughts, “It’s very cute.”

You raise your brows, now believing him even less, “You think Animal Crossing is cute?”

He sighs, not going quite that far, “No, you. You’re cute when you’re talking about these things.”

Then he shakes his head as he sighs again, this time much more heavily, “Too cute.”

He’d been saying it in that tone a lot lately, as if it were a prognosis, one he’d just have to learn to live with.

CHAPTER 8

#my writing #reminder minors and ageless blogs get blocked #sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #self insert #reader insert #mma!au #mma fighter!sukuna

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hwaslayer · 1 year

Text

project: make you love me (jyh) | four.

♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 5.6k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, chaery being bold per usual lol (but shes a cutie and we love her), oc and yunho get to know each other more, mentions of sickness/being ill (not oc or yunho), yunho's mom is a single mom, hwa gets a little 😕 but oc knows how to put her foot down, say hello to mingi!!, mingi brings something up and it kinda rubs yunho the wrong way but boy has patience

"We're getting lunch with Jongho and them. Coming?" You shake your head as you walk alongside Soobin, with Seungmin and Chaery trailing behind.

"Nope, no can do." You say. "I'm taking Yunho to lunch to repay him for the ni—" Seungmin looks at you and you pause. Right. Soobin and Chaery don't know Seonghwa left you stranded. "Foooor his help with my reviews." You backtrack a bit, hoping the two didn't catch on.

"Oh, that's sweet of you." Chaery says. "You definitely should! We won't be home 'till later either, soo.. " She giggles and you shake your head at her forwardness.

"So.. what, Chaery?" You glare at her.

"Yeah, what is wrong with you?" Seungmin laughs a bit. "You'll scare him away."

"I will not! I'm just saying, the option is there." She puckers her lips and wiggles her brows.

"Anyway, I'm just going to grab lunch with him at the cute, new brunch place downtown. Let me know if you want anything?" You stop in your tracks, realizing you've walked farther than you should've. Yunho mentioned he was going to be at the Engineering Center, which is in the opposite direction.

"Sounds good." Soobin gives you a small, pursed smile; dimples dotting his cheeks as he sends an animated wave. "See you? Have fun, be safe!"

"Thanks." You wave to your friends as you watch them walk off without. You turn on your heel to walk back towards the building that Yunho just ended class in, picking up your pace when you realize you're running a little late compared to the time you promised to meet him. As you close in on the building, you catch sight of the tall boy and his fluffy black hair.

"Yunho!" Yunho whips his head around to see you walking towards him. He smiles a bit and stops, waiting for you to catch up. "Hey! I was just about to text you. You still free to grab brunch with me, right?"

"Yeah, I was waiting." He teases, making you chuckle.

"I know, I'm too slow. Sorry." You joke back. "Let's go." You look up at him and he nods.

"How was class?"

"Mm, same old. What about you?"

"It was okay. Another small project I gotta work on."

"Sounds fun." You gently nudge him with your elbow. "Computer Science right?" He nods.

"Public Health?"

"Wow, a point for Jeong Yunho." He laughs.

"Y/N, it's not an entirely huge school. You know a lot of people, and people know you."

"For the wrong reasons, most likely."

"No. Just for being you." He says with a soft smile on his face.

"Are you always this smooth talking to girls?" He laughs and shakes his head.

"Quite the opposite actually. It's just.. easy to talk to you, I guess." He looks down at his feet timidly.

"I'm glad." You chuckle. "So, I'm thinking of taking you to Cafe 24. Does that sound okay?"

"The new brunch place?" He smiles, and it adds a rosy tint to his cheeks. "Cool. I've heard good things about it already."

"Yeah?" You ask in an animated, questioning tone. "Nice. I'm excited."

"Your friends didn't wanna come?" You finally get to your car and toss your bag in the trunk, signaling for Yunho to put his things down as well.

"Hell no. Or else, they'll order everything expecting me to pay." You sigh. "So, nope! This is just for you, especially as my small token of appreciation." Yunho doesn't say anything besides let out a small laugh before hopping into your car and settling in. "By the way, I drive as safely as possible, so please don't make fun of me."

"I won't." Yunho watches as you adjust your seat closer to the wheel. Once you feel content, you start the car and double check your mirrors before pulling out of the spot and driving off.

Luckily, the drive isn't far or else Yunho wasn't sure what he'd do. It's not that he was uncomfortable around you, but he's not used to keeping the small talk alive— let alone engaging and being the first to break the silence.

You seem to understand him well though, because besides the few questions you ask him about the week, you don't push the conversation.

And it's nice.

He listens to the music you have on, hearing you softly hum in the driver's seat as you carefully navigate the narrow downtown roads and find a spot near the café.

"Sweeeet." He hears you giggle as you pull into a parking spot that just opened up. "We're here!"

"There's not too many people?" Yunho says in a questioning tone as he unbuckles his seatbelt and peeks at the front door. It's busy, but not enough for a wait. You check your phone and take note of the fact that it's still earlier than noon— you and Yunho barely missing the lunch rush.

"Still early, I guess." You greet one of the staff members and she immediately brings you and Yunho to a table in the back corner. She lays out the menu in front of you, giving you a moment to glaze over the options while she heads to the back to grab water. "Everything looks so good." Yunho chuckles.

"Anything you've been craving for?"

"Something sweet?" Your eyes widen at the sight of 'matcha mochi waffles' on the menu, pondering whether or not you should give in to your sweet tooth or get something a little more filling on the savory side. "But now, I'm torn. I kinda wanna taste the omurice."

"You can have some of mine?" Yunho was eyeing the omurice anyway, and he doesn't mind sharing some with you.

"Really?" Your eyes sparkle and it makes Yunho's ears turn red. He's feeling shy now because yes, really. Yes, you're cute.

"Yeah, I don't mind." You smile.

"Hm, okay. You can have some of my mochi waffle and bacon?" He shakes his head.

"It's alright, Y/N. It's not a big deal."

"Yes, it is. It's a new brunch place and who knows when we'll be back. You should taste it." He doesn't respond, just simply smiles back at your argument. At this point, the waitress is back with two waters and asks if you two would like anything to drink. Yunho declines, but you happily order a vanilla latte. She asks if you're ready to order, eyes darting to Yunho for some kind of acknowledgement— which he gives to you in the form of a simple nod. She takes down your orders and lets you know that she'll be back with your latte, taking your menus before she's off to the kitchen. "So." Yunho looks at you after he's been people-watching through the window.

"Hm?" He hums.

"Tell me about yourself, Yunho." You say softly. Typically, Yunho hates these kinda things. He'll usually respond very vaguely to cut it off at a certain point. He just doesn't think people need to know much about him, nor does he really find himself interesting. But for now, he'll dive in a little more. He doesn't seem to find the harm in it when it comes to you.

"I don't even know where to start?" He laughs a bit. "I'm not sure what you want to know."

"Anything." The waitress brings your latte and you immediately start blowing at it to cool it down. "Tell me anything."

"I'm an only child?" He starts off with an unsure tone, but you nod in response to reassure him. "Home is two hours away at my aunt's house."

"Sweet. If you don't mind me asking.. have you always lived with your aunt?"

"Yeah, I have. She's my mom's sister, and my mom is sick." Your eyes soften. "She has kidney issues so she's on dialysis. She's still strong and all, but it's nice that my aunt is there. She helps take care of her and bring her to appointments, especially while I'm away most of the time." You nod quietly.

"What about your dad?" He shrugs.

"Uh, he left when I was young, so I don't really know much about him."

"Shoot. I'm so sorry, Yunho. I didn't mean to—"

"Nah, it's okay. I don't mind talking about it, but I also can't give better responses since I don't know much myself."

"You must be very close to your mom." Yunho thinks about his mom for a second, taking mental note that he needs to call her later. She has always been so strong, and she's always been Yunho's driving force. Even though he didn't have his dad around, he never felt like he lacked love or support because he mom did a fantastic job covering all of those bases no matter what.

She never let Yunho down. And he only hopes he can do the same in return.

"I am."

"I can only imagine how tough it is."

"Yeah." He lets out a breath. "But, she's doing well. She's been well for a long time. All I can ask for." You give him a tiny toothless smile.

"I'm glad to hear that."

"W-what about you?" He clears is throat to try and brush off the slight nervousness he feels asking these questions. Surely, you asked about him. But, you wouldn't mind sharing your own facts, right?

"I have an older sister who works in finance. She's 4 years older than me. My parents split up, but my dad still comes around to hang out. They're better this way, I think. Their relationship is much healthier." You also start thinking about your parents, reminiscing about the tough times when they used to fight for days on end. Luckily, you and your sister were close— you could lean onto her like you do with your bestfriends. She tried to protect you and keep you safe as much as possible, tried to shield you from the negativity even though it was hard to. Eventually, your parents had enough and split; though, you'd like to think this was their silver lining since they're much better around each other now.

"I see." Yunho sips his water. "It's nice he's still around."

"Mhm." You tilt your head. "Do you have a lot of friends back home?"

"I wouldn't say lots. A few people that I grew up with still live around my area, but most people have moved."

"That's cool to still see some childhood friends, though." It's your turn to sip. "How do you know Mingi so well?"

"We went to the same high school. We have some common interests, but that's it? We just hang out with different crowds." Yunho shrugs. "Mingi finds certain people and certain things fun that I don't necessarily find fun. He's a big social butterfly."

"Yeah, I see that." You chuckle.

"You and your friends seem really close. Did you meet here?"

"We did." You smile. "Chaery and I were roommates and Soobin and Seungmin lived across the hall from us."

"Did you meet Chaery before you two moved in?"

"Nope. Just that day." You laugh. "Believe it or not. We clicked really well and got close easily. I got lucky with her." At this point, the waitress comes with your plate and tells Yunho she'll be back with his as they're just finishing up in the kitchen. "Then we met Soobin and Seungmin. And they slowly started coming into our room more often. Turned into going to the cafeteria together, to hanging out and studying in our room together."

"That's good. It's always nice to have solid, good friends around."

"Yeah." You look at him. He notices that you aren't eating your food, and he feels bad that you are waiting for him. So, he clears his throat again and mutters out a quick—

"Oh, you don't have to wait for me." He looks at you, then down at your food.

"No, it's okay Yunho. I'll wait." You nod. "Speaking of roommates, are you close to Yeosang?"

"Uh, we're cool, I guess?" He shyly laughs. "We randomly got paired up because we're in the same major." The waitress sets his plate down and he pauses for a brief moment to thank her and asks for an extra plate. When she leaves, he returns his attention back to you. "Anyway. One day, he asked if I knew anyone who needed a roommate. At the time, I was renting a room in this couple's home. I didn't mind it, and they were super friendly. But, I figured having more space would be nice instead of being confined to a room and feeling shy about going into the shared kitchen and bathroom." You laugh.

"I get that, totally understandable." Yunho is splitting some of his omurice [a bit more than you expected] and placing it neatly on the extra plate before scooting it your way. "Wait. Yunho, that's a lot." You look at him worriedly and he shakes his head, continuing to edge the plate towards you.

"No, it's not." You look at him and he gives you a small smile. "Promise."

"Thank you." You say, cutting him a good chunk of your waffle and placing it on the edge of his plate. "I know you said you and Yeosang are cool so.. do you hang out often at home?"

"We'll talk and have dinner sometimes, but most of the time, we're in our rooms playing games." You giggle and Yunho's ears turn red. "Wow, I probably sounded ridiculous saying that."

"No, no. Soobin and Seungmin have a tendency to do that too. As long as it makes you happy and content, right?"

"Mmyeah."

"How often do you go home?"

"Hm, I try to go every other weekend? But, sometimes plans don't work out that way. I just try to go as soon as I can."

"I see." You continue to hold a conversation in between bites, with topics ranging from school, your majors, things your friends have gotten into.

Dancing.

Yunho observes you as you talk about your dance team and how much you enjoy it, and he loves the way your eyes twinkle; the way you animatedly move your hands while describing the team and its accomplishments, the way you giggle in between. He can tell you really enjoy it, and he's truly happy you have something to fall onto when times get rough, something to help celebrate when you're having good days.

He just can't understand how Seonghwa fits in this mix. He doesn't, he shouldn't. You are too good for him, and you have way more to offer.

"So.. yeah, that's us. We're small, but we're fun. And I think people on campus enjoy our pieces." Yunho laughs a bit before finishing up his food. He feels bad since he's never really gone out of his way to watch any of your performances, but maybe he should.

"Let me know when your next one is?"

"You'll come?" You ask with so much hope in your eyes. Yeah, maybe he should this time.

"Yeah, if I don't have anything planned."

"Oh, so we're the backup plan." You tease and Yunho shakes his head.

"No, not like that. You know what I mean. If I'm around and not at home."

"Of course." You tilt your head and smile at him. "I'll text you details later." You set aside your plate and sit back in your seat, feeling stuffed but content with your meal. You call for the waitress to bring over the check, instantly handing off your card in fear of Yunho trying to swoop in. "Oof, I'm full. But, that was so good. I really liked it."

"It was." Yunho sets his own plate aside and sips on some water. "Thanks again, you really didn't have to."

"I did. Small token of appreciation for the help you've been giving me. I've always struggled with these things so having someone patiently explain and walk me through improvements means a lot." You say before getting up and grabbing your things. "Ready?" Yunho nods before following you out. "Are you going to work in the library until class?"

"Probably."

"Do you mind if I join you?" Yunho looks down at you with a small smile.

"Not at all."

You make the trek back to school comfortably, parking in the lot near the library so that you and Yunho won't have to do too heavy of a walk. The both of you are engaging in more small talk, with Yunho feeling a bit more comfortable to joke around with you. He doesn't dare bring up Seonghwa because he knows it isn't his business, but also because he'd hate to see your mood shift.

You look good happy.

Getting back to the library, you scoot yourself into the opposite side of the booth and face Yunho. He immediately pulls out his laptop to do some work, not really saying much as his focus is redirected on trying to understand the new project they were just assigned. He glances over the edge of his laptop from time to time though, and you don't really catch it because you're too immersed in the note-taking you're doing. You write so precisely, so neatly; switching from one colored pen to the next before highlighting in a super straight line. His eyes glance up to your face, your features, before shifting his attention back down to his assignments.

Cutie.

"What's up, Yunho?" Yunho is pulled out of his thoughts when he hears that familiar deep voice. Seonghwa smirks at him before his eyes land on you. You don't look too happy to see him right now, but Yunho knows Seonghwa still has the upper hand here, and honestly, it sucks. "Hey Y/N, can I talk to you?"

"Why?"

"Cause, it's important." He licks his lips when his smile fades. "Please?" Your eyes dart from Yunho, back to Seonghwa. Yunho just quietly glances at you though, trying his best to mind his own business and let you decide on your own. But he's begging, pleading, in his mind that you don't leave with Seonghwa. Not after he left you in the cold the way he did.

Too bad it was a wishful thought.

"Fine." You huff before packing up your things and start to slide out of the booth. "Talk to you later? Thanks for today." You give Yunho a soft, apologetic smile, and he can only nod in acknowledgment before you're walking off next to that asshole. He continues to watch as you two walk down and into a random aisle of books. You can't help but scoff at Seonghwa again when you realize he's hiding because of course he doesn't want too many people in his business and to see you two so close. Of course he needs to do this in the fucking history aisle of the library. "This is your idea of talking?" All he does is chuckle a bit before he's tucking a piece of your hair behind the ear.

"Baby, seriously? Why are you hanging around Yunho so much?"

"Because we're friends?" He snorts.

"Since when? I don't ever recall Yunho being in your little circle."

"Oh my god, Seonghwa. He's been helping me with some assignments. What is this really about?" He shrugs.

"Nothing, I already told you. I'm not trying to share, not with him." You furrow your brows.

"Share?" You scoff. Clearly, you were just a possession to him. "We aren't dating. You made that very loud and clear from the beginning."

"Still. The dude can't even pull his own girl—"

"Stop." You put your hand out and shake your head. "If you're just gonna talk shit, let me get back to doing homework with Yunho. I don't have time for it." He sighs heavily and tries to pull you into him by the elbows.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I just got worried because you didn't answer my text last night."

"Worried over me, or because you weren't getting any?"

"Come on, Y/N. Cut that shit out."

"No, you cut that shit out. It was freezing last night. I fucking waited for you at the spot for an hour."

"And I said I was sorry. I wanted to make it up to you last night but you didn't respond. I feel really bad about it, but what am I supposed to do when you won't even talk to me?"

"Seriously?" You let out a sigh. "Whatever you say." He sucks his teeth and lifts your chin with his finger.

"Baby, I'm trying here. If I didn't care about you, I wouldn't be doing this." You simply stare at him. You know he's lying, and you know he genuinely doesn't care about you. There is not one honest bone in his body that actually gives a damn about you. He's telling you what you wanna hear because he knows it'll work every—single—time.

"I don't know—"

"I'll wait for you until you're done with practice tonight, how about that? You can just shower at my place so we can hang out all night."

"That's the issue, you're never there after practice."

"I will be. I promise." He pouts a bit. "I'll be there waiting for you." He laces your hand with his and kisses the surface. "Walk with me to class?" You look at him, but all you can think about is leaving Yunho. You let out a sigh knowing all you want to do is avoid conflict, shrugging at his question.

"Fine."

"That's my girl." He leads the way out of the aisle, giving Yunho the pettiest nod you've ever seen. You try to avoid eye contact since you felt bad for leaving.

But, fuck. You just needed to get through the day in one peace.

He swings an arm around you for a second before he sees his friends on the way to class. He gives you a quick peck on the cheek just as he reaches his classroom, leaving you to finish up work at the nearby student center.

The day goes on [peacefully], and you're off to dance practice with your friends. You forget about everything for a moment while you're with them, enjoying the time that you get to spend all together even if it's through dance. They invite you to hang out with the group afterwards, but you politely decline especially when you actually see Seonghwa waiting outside in his car. You give your friends big hugs before waving goodbye, and settle yourself into Seonghwa's car.

He talks about his day for a bit, even as you walk into his apartment and see San eating his dinner. He doesn't really ask about yours, nor does he care enough to. He does ask if you've eaten and if you want some food, but you shake your head and tell him you'll be off to shower and finish your homework in his room. Throughout your shower, you can hear him and San laughing loudly in the dining area before they're going at each other's necks while playing FIFA.

You feel like you're just.. there.

You silently sit against the wall as you type away on your laptop, sighing as Seonghwa and San continue to yell over their last game. You find that you aren't really in the mood to be here, but you hang on to see what Seonghwa's version of 'making it up to you' means.

Should've known it wasn't shit.

Especially when he barges into his room and shuts the door, immediately kissing you before trailing a few soft kisses down your neck. He thinks you're enjoying it, so he keeps peppering your neck even as you gently try to pry him off.

"Hwa." You call his name and he ignores it, fingers slightly fiddling with the waistband of his sweats that you're wearing. "Seonghwa, stop." You say, pushing him back. "Stop." You repeat with a harder push when he almost dips his hand into your sweats.

"W-what? What's wrong?" He furrows his brows when he backs up to read your expression, your body language. Suddenly, you feel out of place, feeling like you wanna go home and be in your own peace.

You did not wanna be here. Not with him.

"I'm just.. not in the mood. Can you take me home?"

"Not in the mood?" He repeats. "What, should I have gone slower? Did I do something—"

"Seonghwa, please just take me home. I'm not asking twice." You say and he lets out a scoff as he hops off the bed and grabs his keys.

"Alright, whatever." He says, digging his hands into his pockets while walking out of his room. You change into the extra clothes you brought in your duffle bag, setting his clothes neatly into his laundry hamper. You quietly trail behind him as you tug on your bag and watch your feet drag you to his car. You hop in and Seonghwa doesn't say a word, instantly starting up the car and driving off. You can tell he's upset by the way his jaw is clenched, the way his hand tightly wraps around the wheel.

The way he drives.

A rather quick drive becomes even quicker, and you're glad you don't live far from his apartment. This entire ride feels suffocating and you can't wait to leave entirely. He pulls into your lot and brakes near the curb, giving you time to step out of his car. He doesn't give you another look, nor does he say anything— you simply slam the door shut and he races off, leaving before paying you any mind.

Perfect.

This wasn't anything new, but tonight feels awful. You start to feel guilty for whatever happened, though you shouldn't.

You shouldn't feel guilty.

You let out a shaky sigh as you step into your apartment, your roommates not being home since they're out with the dance group. You set your things aside and quickly take a shower before plopping onto your bed and doing.. nothing.

You want to do nothing.

You scroll through your phone as you try your hardest not to let any tears fall. They shouldn't, you did nothing wrong. But everything feels wrong, suffocating.

You hate feeling this way.

Yunho is getting ready to wrap up his work for the day when he sees a body slide into the booth he's currently occupying.

"Sup dude." Mingi says.

"Yo." Yunho responds. "What are you still doing here?" He asks, unfamiliar with Mingi's presence during these evening hours in the library.

"I had to work on a group project." Yunho continues to draft out some notes for his project while Mingi sits back and lets out a breath. "Another project?"

"Yup. How'd your group project go?"

"Eh. It's alright, but we're done. Just need to present." Mingi scrolls through his phone. "I saw you with Y/N earlier." Yunho pauses to briefly look at him before returning his attention back to his notebook. "I didn't know you two knew each other." He chuckles.

"We have literature class together, and I was helping her with some reviews."

"You seem close, though? Have you always been close?" Yunho shrugs at two things— one, he definitely can't say you two are close, and two, how nosy Mingi is being. It must be for Seonghwa.

"Not really. She's cool, though."

"Hm." Mingi hums before putting his phone down on the table. "Yeah, she is. I don't know what Hwa's deal is sometimes."

"Mm, but you would never mention it to him." Yunho teases with a small chuckle, but he means it. He absolutely means it.

"I just feel like it isn't my place to. Me and San have both told him to chill, but can't force someone to act a certain way if they don't want to." Yunho shrugs.

Fine, he thinks. But, Mingi could at least tell the guy when he's wrong and what he's done wrong, right? He would at least hope that's part of their conversations, and he knows Mingi is aware of right vs. wrong.

No better way than letting someone know the truth.

Seonghwa is wrong damn near more than half of the time.

"Yeah, I guess." Is all Yunho responds with.

"He does like her, though." Yunho looks at him with tightly-knit brows. What does he mean Seonghwa likes you? That's his way of showing his feelings for you? And it must be obvious that Yunho is feeling a certain way about that statement because Mingi instantly backs it up with a— "I mean like, I know he has some kind of feelings for her. He does more for her than I've seen him do for anyone else. I just don't know why he's stringing her along and not being more serious."

"Like.. what? Leave her in the cold until he's ready to pick her up? Really shows his feelings." Yunho sarcastically responds. "Anyway, sure. It's not really my business."

"Are you sure?"

"What?"

"You seem interested in her."

"Because we hung out?" Yunho shrugs. "Okay, Mingi."

"I only bring it up because he's mentioned it. Hwa can get pretty protective and jealous. I don't want him to start shit with you—"

"He doesn't need to." Yunho responds. "Not really on me anyway, I'm not the one in the wrong."

"Right, I guess."

"I know he's your friend, but she deserves way better. You can tell me all of this, and it still won't change my mind." Yunho chimes in one last time, completely over the conversation. "If she isn't happy, he shouldn't be selfish enough to continue trapping her." He finishes up his notes before closing his notebook and packing up.

"You're right." Is all Mingi replies with while watching Yunho pack up. Because what can he say? Of course, he agrees. But he has this weird obligation, this loyalty, to Seonghwa because of their friendship.

"I'm gonna head out." Yunho slides to the end of the booth before throwing his bag over his shoulder. "Gonna stay behind?"

"Nah, I'll come with. Wasn't planning on staying any longer." Yunho nods, allowing Mingi to walk alongside of him. He's a little annoyed, but in a weird and unconventional way, he knows Mingi didn't mean any harm. He knows he didn't mean to intentionally attack him.

Still, though. His point about Park Seonghwa stands.

Yunho continues his walk to the car with Mingi, the topic of discussion now being new game releases and a party that's coming up soon at one of the athlete's homes. Mingi extends the invite to Yunho, but Yunho shakes his head and tells him he doesn't think he'd end up going. He might change his mind if he feels better about it when the time gets closer, but as of now— it feels like a hard no.

Once Yunho and Mingi finally part ways, Yunho climbs into his car and begins his silent drive home. He starts pondering about his day and how he actually really enjoyed it. He feels comfortable enough to be himself around you, and he can't say that for many people.

You are enticing to him.

When he gets home, everything feels still— quiet. The night sky is dotted with stars, while the crickets chirp.

"Mom." He says, parking his car off to the curb and grabbing his things.

"Yunho, baby." She says a bit lowly. "How are you? How was your day?"

"I'm alright, just hanging in there. Had lunch with a friend before working on a few projects." He begins to walk to his apartment. "How are you feeling?"

"Good! Your aunt and I went out for a walk, then shopped for a few things today." Yunho chuckles.

"Cute. Weather's been nice. Glad you guys have been getting out."

"Yeah, enough about that though. A friend, hm?" She chuckles.

"Yeah." Yunho smiles. "We have the same class together. I've been helping her with some of the assignments."

"So, it's a her." Yunho can hear his aunt giggling in the background, making him roll his eyes.

"Uh huh—" Before he can start lecturing his mom and aunt about how you two are merely friends, classmates, another call comes through on the line. He stops in his tracks and quickly removes the phone from his ear to see who's calling. "Mom, can I call you back in a second? I just got home."

"Okay, get settled. I love you!" She says in a sing-song manner and Yunho laughs a bit.

"Love you too." He responds before ending that call and switching to the next. "Hey. Is everything okay?"

You chuckle on the other line before responding with a shaky: "Why wouldn't things be, Yunho?"

"I don't know. Just wasn't expecting your call, is all."

"I'm sorry, are you busy? I'm so dumb, I really shouldn't have—"

"It's okay, Y/N. Seriously. I just got home from the library." He steps inside his apartment finding that Yeosang is in his beloved cave, yelling at his computer screen per usual. He walks into his room and places his things down, settling onto his computer chair with a soft sigh.

"Okay." You haven't said much and it's obvious to Yunho that something is indeed wrong. You needed someone and you turned to Yunho for comfort.

God, he sucks at this. But, he wants to be there for you.

"What's going on?"

"Huh? Nothing. I just wanted to check on you." He chuckles.

"I don't get very far, Y/N. Don't worry." Silence. "What's bothering you?"

"How do you know something's bothering me?"

"I can practically hear you thinking from here." You giggle and it warms Yunho's heart. At least his effort is somewhat working.

"I.. was at Seonghwa's not too long ago. And I just didn't wanna be there. I asked him to take me home and he was upset. I don't know why I feel bad about it."

"Feel bad? What is there to feel bad about?"

"Maybe I should've asked him in a better way, I don't know. I felt suffocated and demanded rather than politely telling him."

"Y/N, you don't owe him anything. You don't need to explain anything to him. He doesn't need to be upset about you going home because that's your own choice. He's mad because he didn't get his way for once. Still not your problem." You let out a shaky sigh and a tear manages to slide down your cheek. This was so dumb, you shouldn't have called Yunho to vent about this.

"This must sound so dumb, I'm sorry Yunho—"

"It's not dumb. Don't be sorry." Silence, again. "I hope you know that if things don't get better, you were never in the wrong. You don't need him."

"I know." Yunho doesn't say much because he doesn't wanna attack you or make you feel worse. So, he sits there. Listening to you breathe.

Listening to you sigh, be upset.

"Yunho?"

"Mhm?"

"I'm sorry for leaving you behind earlier."

"It's okay, you don't have to apologize."

"Mind if I join you at the library again tomorrow?" He softly smiles to himself and nods as if you can see him.

"You're always welcome to join me."

♣︎ taglist: @s-nsanshine @soupbinlily @tyongff-ff @jiminiscricket @g1g1l @staytinyinmybpack @woomyteez @gfksz @bitchwhytho @savluvsmingi @thisisntmyrightera @hyukssunflower @miriamxsworld @tmtxtf @kuromibabe04 @lmnhead @carrietwrites @tournesol155 @persphonesorchid @txt-yaomi @marsattacks @mxnsxngie @h-nji @mundayoonimnida @jalapeno-princess @nakiiko @asjkdk [bold = can’t tag 🥺]

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taomyou · 11 months

Text

The Paradis Marriage Pact

Author: taomyou Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader Summary: Do you believe in soulmates? No. Do you believe that Jean's coding project can introduce you to someone special? Not really, but your mind can be changed. Word Count: 6.1k Tags: modern au, university au, strangers to lovers, fluff, meet-cute, matchmaking, one-shot

The Paradis Marriage Pact

"Hey, do you think Levi believes in soulmates?" Hange asks, looking up from their laptop at Erwin. The two friends are in a study lounge reviewing for midterms, but it seems that Hange's taking a break since they're asking weird questions.

"I'm not sure. Why do you ask?"

To that, Hange angles their screen towards Erwin so he can see what they're looking at. The website they're on looks simple enough: it seems just like any other standard testing site. "This second-year in my biotech lecture sent out the link to everyone! It's a matchmaking form for students here!"

Looking closer at the screen, he sees "PARADIS MARRIAGE PACT" in big, bold letters at the top of the page. What's this got to do with whether or not Levi believes in soulmates?

"You didn't answer my question, Hange. What are you planning?"

Hange dramatically leans back into the sofa, arms crossed and a sinister grin on their face. "I'm filling this out on our dear friend's behalf!"

"And does our dear friend know about this?"

"Of course not!" Hange laughs, "he'd skin me alive if he knew!"

"Well, you're right about that," says Erwin.

Hange nods at him before moving back to their earlier position closer to the table in front of them. "Wanna help me fill it out?"

With a laugh, Erwin shakes his head but starts putting away his own laptop and books. Once his bag is zipped, he scoots over to sit closer to Hange. "Sure, why not?"

"Really? I'll text Levi and ask about the whole soulmates thing, but we can just skip that for now!"

♡

"I don't wanna take it!"

"You can't not take it! The rest of us just did it!"

"Yeah, Connie's right," Sasha says, poking at your shoulder.

You groan and swat her hand away.

You and your friends have spent the last several hours in one of the library study rooms. Connie organized it as a "group study session," but you're sure you and Jean are the only ones actually being productive. You're not sure about Connie since you can't see his screen from where you're sitting, but Sasha's spent this entire time playing Overcooked! 2 in multiplayer mode with who you assume is him. Then, about 30 minutes ago, Connie started complaining about his engineering midterm, which prompted Sasha to complain about her physics midterm, which then prompted Jean to talk about his semester-long coding project.

"Could you guys fill this out? I need at least a thousand participants by the end of next week to get an A on this, and I already sent it to everyone I could," Jean asked, forwarding the link to the group chat.

You click on it and are brought to the website.

PARADIS MARRIAGE PACT: Fall in love today!

Leave it to Jean to choose to make a matchmaking website for his final project. Sasha and Connie found the premise to be quite fun, whereas you rolled your eyes at the page.

"Love calculators already exist," you criticized, exiting out of the tab immediately. Jean flipped you off from across the table, not appreciating your comment.

Which brings you to now, where Connie, Sasha, and Jean have been trying to pressure you into filling out the Paradis Marriage Pact. You don't really get why they want you specifically to do it, since you know Jean's popular and he could probably get enough responses, but it's probably more about annoying you than it is them actually wanting you to find the love of your life.

"If you need responses so bad, I can use my extra emails to spam random answers," you offer.

Jean shakes his head, tutting loudly. "You have to input your school email. Besides, if those answers paired you with someone who made the Pact honestly, they'd be heartbroken."

"So? Serves them right for taking some random sophomore's mandatory coding project seriously."

Connie and Sasha burst into laughter, which earns them a glare from Jean. You sigh dramatically and rest your head on your hand.

"Don't be mean! I put a lot of effort into this project!"

You never doubted that he did, him being a CS major, but it was still entertaining to poke fun at him.

"I have an idea! Why don't we fill it out for her?" Sasha suggests, and you see her open the link to start typing in your name. You immediately perk up and try to get her to stop, but she hurriedly picks up her laptop and rushes over to the other side of the table where Jean and Connie huddle closer to her. "Do either of you know her school email?"

"She forwarded me something a while ago, I can check," Connie says, opening his own laptop to find your information.

It's then that you know that you can either do it yourself or let these fools try to guess how you'd answer, and one of those possibilities is infinitely worse than the other.

"Okay, fine! I'll do it!"

All of them smile and immediately get up to crowd you, the sound of their rolling chairs filling the room as they push them to your side of the table. Sasha offers her laptop to you, and you place it on top of one of your textbooks. You type in your school email and some other information, and then you're brought to your first prompt.

It's okay that my partner drinks.

□ Agree □ Disagree

You check off the box for 'agree' and move on. The next couple of questions are easy enough, just asking what activities you're okay with, but your friends are still watching you intensely, and it unnerves you slightly.

After confirming that you are, in fact, not okay with your partner doing hard drugs, you're faced with the next question.

Do you believe in soulmates?

□ Yes □ No

You click on 'no,' but before you're able to tap the button to move on, Jean speaks up.

"What do you mean, 'no?'"

You turn to face him, completely deadpan and unamused. "You made this quiz, why would you even ask if you're gonna get butthurt about people not agreeing with you?"

"It's not about that! You just seem like you'd be into that sort of thing."

You hum, looking back at your screen. "Nah, I think soulmates are kinda stupid."

♡

Midterms came and went, but that "end of next week" deadline came even quicker for Jean. He managed to get the thousand answers he needed for the chance at an A, but he was stressed as all hell up until the very last day when he finally got enough participants. Unfortunately, it didn't get easier for him since he's been stressing about the next part of the assignment, so you, Sasha, and Connie decided to invite him out to dinner to try and help him destress. It's probably not working if all he's doing is complaining about his professor.

"Seriously, what kind of professor requires a thousand participants in that amount of time? This is a lower-division coding class, for fuck's sake, not Advanced Media Advertising!" He complains, taking a long sip of his soda.

"He sounds terrible, but, hey, at least you got enough answers," says Connie.

You and Sasha nod along while Jean takes another sip before speaking again.

"You guys don't get it! He's the actual devil! You guys are so lucky you'll never have to take his class!"

"What's left for you to do, anyway?" You ask.

"There's a report I have to write. I have to prove my project was successful, too, so I gotta find a couple that the program matched."

"And how exactly are you going to do that?"

"The program should've sent everyone an email with their match's name and contact information by now. I just need a couple to reply to it and agree to get interviewed."

"Man, good luck with that, nobody checks their email," Connie winces.

Jean buries his face in his hands, groaning in agony. "I know! That's why I'm still so worried!"

"Couldn't you just lie?" Sasha inquires.

Jean shakes his head. "The professor wants the audio from the interview and a picture of the couple together. It's so fucking stupid, what do either of those things even have to do with the class?" Suddenly, his face brightens, and now he's looking between you, Sasha, and Connie. "Can't one of you guys just go out with your match? Oh, I'm a fucking genius!"

The three of you awkwardly make eye contact with one another, mostly to avoid looking at Jean himself.

"Uh, dude, I don't really think any of us are up for that," Connie says.

"Yeah. Don't get me wrong, the questionnaire was fun to do as, like, a personality quiz, but I'm not down," Sasha adds.

Jean's face falls, and he turns to look at you.

By now, his hands are in a prayer position.

The likelihood of anyone getting back to the email Jean sent is slim-to-none, nevermind the likelihood of a couple replying.

You know how hard he works—the two of you study together practically every other day in the library—and despite his popularity, he's not one to go out often, instead staying in to work on projects or research. He really is adamant about doing well on this project and you know he could somehow make it out with a decent grade, but maybe you could do this tiny favor to help him out. It's not like it'd be all that hard, right? Meeting with your match and getting interviewed doesn't sound like too much of a hassle, especially since you're already close with Jean.

You can't really believe that you're choosing to help him, considering how much of a fight you put up when you were asked to take the Pact in the first place, but whatever. You smile at Jean and give him a thumbs-up.

"Sure, I got you."

Jean practically jumps out of his seat to give you a hug, laughing and smiling brightly. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

You give him a firm pat on the back before prying him away from you so he can go back to his seat. "Really, thank you so much! This makes everything so much easier!"

You blush in embarrassment, not really used to affection from Jean, but hey. He looks like a weight's been lifted off his chest, and that's why you're all out tonight anyway. "Yeah, yeah, let me check my email for a name, though."

Jean eagerly nods, a smile still on his face. Sasha and Connie don't look like they have anything to say, but they pay attention to you, probably also excited to know who your match is.

You don't have any sort of hopes for who it could be, not having your eye on anyone anyway, but you just hope they're understanding enough to agree to an interview. You open your mail app and tap on the "Search mail" prompt to type in "Paradis Marriage Pact." There's only one email related to your search, so you click on it to find your match's name in big, dark letters.

"Any of you guys know somebody named Levi Ackerman?"

♡

Somewhere in an empty lecture hall across campus, Hange, Levi, and Erwin are all lazing around after their last class. Levi's laptop is connected to the projector, and he's just scrolling through different streaming sites.

"Why the fuck are we even in here? We can just watch something at home."

"Because, Levi, tuition's too expensive to not make use of the grand halls at our disposal!"

"Imagine not being a scholarship student."

Erwin and Hange laugh, and the latter gets up from their seat to go over to Levi to help him choose something to watch. He refuses them at first, but they just shove him around enough to get him to give up and go sit where they just were. In the middle of some more aimless scrolling, they notice that there's a tab opened to Levi's email.

Hange did overhear someone last week telling that second-year that they got their results back from the Paradis Marriage Pact, so they get the stupid genius idea to try and look through Levi's email for his match. Switching tabs, they type in "Paradis Marriage Pact" into the "Search mail" prompt.

"Oi! What the fuck are you doing?" Levi exclaims.

Hange waves him off, not looking up from the screen. Erwin just has to sit back and watch it all unfold in front of him, the projector magnifying everything that Hange's doing. Finding the unopened email, they click on it and see a name printed in the same font as the initial title for the questionnaire page. Next to the name is a phone number.

Levi still doesn't really understand what Hange's doing, but whatever it is can't be good. He gets up again and rushes for his laptop, disconnecting it from the projector and closing it before Hange can try anything else.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Nothing!" Hange nervously laughs and looks past Levi's shoulder at Erwin for back up.

Levi follows their eyes over to the man as well. Erwin gets up from his seat, joining the other two at the front of the hall.

"Just forget it, Hange. It was already wrong of us to submit answers for Levi."

"Again, what the fuck are you guys talking about? And what the fuck is the 'Paradis Marriage Pact?' Did you sign me up for a mail-order bride or something?"

Hange extends out both their arms, frantically waving off the accusations and shaking their head. "No, no! This kid in my biotech programed some matchmaking site, so I thought it'd be neat to submit something for you," Hange explains.

Levi exhales deeply, pinching his nose between his fingers. "So you think I need help from a fucking website to find a girlfriend? Just how pathetic do you think I am?"

"You literally have not dated since, like, high school!"

"And? That's a problem how?"

Erwin puts a hand on Levi's shoulder, though it gets swatted away just as quickly. "It isn't, we just thought it'd be fun. We're sorry," Erwin says.

It's certainly frustrating that Hange acts this way, interfering with his personal life, but he knows they mean well (emphasis on "mean.")

Erwin does too, so as much as he hates this, he'll let this one slide. It's a Friday, and the week has been exhausting enough. Erwin and Hange look at one another while Levi reaches into his back pocket to take out his phone. He felt a buzz, so he probably got a text from someone. When he turns on his phone, however, he sees that the notification is a text from a number he doesn't have saved.

Unknown Number - 6:27 PM

is this levi ackerman? this is your match from the paradis marriage pact

He frowns at the text but doesn't say anything. He'll deal with it later.

"Just don't do this again, so help me, God."

Hange's eyes bug out of their head. "You're not mad at us?"

Levi scoffs. "I'm mad, but I'm too tired of your shit to beat you into the ground right now."

"Let's go back home now, yeah?" Erwin suggests, his body facing the door.

After Levi wordlessly puts his laptop in his backpack, the three head back to their shared apartment. Erwin occasionally greets people that recognize him on the walk over, but other than that, they travel in complete silence to avoid pissing off Levi any further.

Once Levi's in his room, he shrugs off his backpack to put near his door and takes out his phone, walking over to the chair he has at his desk. He sits down, turns on his phone, and stares at the message he got.

In the first place, he has no idea what the fuck this Paradis Marriage Pact shit is.

Yeah, sure, Hange described it as a matchmaking program, but it's not like that's much to go off of. He switches over to his mail app to find the email sent from the site.

There still isn't much information—just the match's name, phone number, and a message at the bottom: Please reply to this email if your match is successful and you'd like to be interviewed! He rolls his eyes—the email looks formal enough, but there's no way anyone's going to actually reply to it. He also compares the number that texted him earlier and the number listed on the email.

They match, so he replies to the text.

Levi - 7:33 PM

Yes, this is Levi

Unknown Number - 7:39 PM

sorry if this is weird but i need a favor

Levi - 7:40 PM

Sorry, not interested in dating

Unknown Number - 7:40 PM

me neither

...Doesn't make much sense to text a match from something called a "marriage pact" if you're not interested, but alright. Levi isn't going to question it; he's doing the same thing replying to this person.

Unknown Number - 7:41 PM

could we meet up?

Levi - 7:42 PM

I said I'm not interested You literally just agreed with me

Unknown Number - 7:42 PM

no its not like that!!

Levi - 7:43 PM

Ok, then what's the favor?

Unknown Number - 7:43 PM

my friend is the guy who made the paradis marriage pact program and he needs help getting data from a successful match

Levi - 7:45 PM

And you want me to help because the email asking for it was so pathetic that he needed to get help from someone he knows personally?

Unknown Number - 7:46 PM

exactly! so are you up for it?

Levi - 7:46 PM

Unknown Number - 7:47 PM

we'd just have to answer some interview questions together

Levi - 7:47 PM

I said no already

Unknown Number - 7:48 PM

i already told my friend that i'd help him :( please?? i can buy you a drink

Levi - 7:50 PM

Why not just make up the data?

Unknown Number - 7:50 PM

... they need a recorded audio file of the couple talking and a picture

Levi - 7:51 PM

That's an awful lot for just a project

Unknown Number - 7:51 PM

if it means anything, he has dr pixis

Levi frowns.

He had Pixis for Intro to Python in his first year, and it's the only class he's gotten a B in since enrolling at Paradis University. Pixis is notorious for being a harsh grader, but there's only one other professor that offers lower-division technology course requirements for CS majors, so everyone has to take him at some point. It makes sense now that whoever made the Paradis Marriage Pact is scrambling for data. It's stupid that whoever made this decided to reach out for information over email, nevermind over school email, but Levi knows it's too late in the semester to try something else.

Unknown Number - 7:55 PM

ik its asking a lot and i have no idea who you are but if we matched then maybe it wont be so bad

Levi - 7:56 PM

I didn't take it My roommates did it for me and they probably answered it differently than I would've

Unknown Number - 7:57 PM

even better!! we already know we arent a match so theres no expectations

God, she isn't going to stop asking, is she? Levi can't judge their dedication to the cause, though; it's admirable that she's willing to reach out to a complete stranger just to help her friend.

Levi - 7:57 PM

If we aren't a real match, doesn't that make your friend's project a failure?

Unknown Number - 7:58 PM

technically, that isn't his fault

Levi - 8:00 PM

You're not giving up, are you?

Unknown Number - 8:01 PM

i will if you say no again

Great, she's a good friend, and she's respectful.

Levi himself can't believe that he's seriously about to go along with this.

For all he knows, this girl could be a fucking axe-murderer, but, at the same time, he knows how fucking miserable it is to have Pixis for any class ever. She can't be that bad if she hasn't prodded him for any actual information, and she sincerely seems to not be interested in getting to know him.

Just an interview, some pictures, and he'd never have to cross paths with her again?

Yeah, he can do that.

Levi - 8:03 PM

Okay, but you're still buying me a drink

Unknown Number - 8:04 PM

deal!! thank you so much!! let me ask my friend when we can do the interview

♡

"What do you mean you can't come? You're literally supposed to interview us in," you pull your phone away from your ear to check the time, 1:55 PM, "5 minutes!"

"I'm so sorry! I forgot I had a midterm today, and I can't get to you guys and make it back in time!" Jean says.

You groan and change the hand your phone is in. "What the fuck, man, midterm season was over, like, a month ago."

"I know! But Shadis kept pushing it back because people kept asking for more time to study!"

"So what do you want me to do? He already didn't want to do this, and I don't want to inconvenience him even more by changing the date this late."

"I can text you the questions, and you can go through them together."

"What about the audio file?"

"Just record it on your phone, and I'll edit in my voice so it sounds like I'm actually there."

You roll your eyes. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I don't really have a choice."

"Well, you're right about that. Let's just hope this Levi guy is okay with this."

"Okay with what, exactly?"

Looking towards the voice, you see a raven-haired guy around your age dressed in a neat black shirt and dark jeans. Before this, you texted each other the details of your outfits so you could find each other in the café Jean picked out for the three of you to meet, so you know that it's Levi. He seems to have a frown on his face, but you just hope that it's not directed towards you.

Despite that, though, he's.. really attractive.

You try not to dwell on that as you motion him to sit in the booth with you. He does so wordlessly and takes out his own phone to busy himself.

"I'll owe you forever, okay?"

You sigh, putting your elbow on the table. "Damn right you will. I get it, though. I'll try to make it work." You can hear him sigh in relief on the other end of the line.

"Thank you! I gotta go now, but send me the audio after! Don't forget the picture too!"

"It's no problem, Jean. Good luck on your midterm, you got this," you say, then bringing your phone away from your ear to end the call.

Levi clears his throat from across you to get your attention. "Is your friend on the way?" he asks.

You nervously laugh. "Yeah.. so about him, he can't make it."

"Is he who you were just on the phone with?"

You nod, looking away from him. "He called me and said he has a midterm today," you say.

He nods in what you want to interpret as understanding, but he's probably just confused. "Bit late for midterms, no?"

You nod, anxiously laughing again. "I told him the same thing, but he said his professor pushed it back."

"Pushing back a test that far sounds like a fucking terrible idea, but okay."

You hear a buzz come from your phone, so you pick it up to see a text from Jean. Opening it, you see that it's the questions Jean's supposed to be asking you and Levi. You put your phone back on the table and slide it over to Levi to look at.

"He sent me the questions, if you wanted to look at them."

"Just send them to me," he says, ignoring your device. You nod and take your phone back, quickly copying the text and forwarding it to Levi. "I assume we're still going to do this without him?"

You smile sheepishly at him, bringing your hands together in front of your face. "If it's okay with you. I understand if it isn't, but let me at least pay for you to get a drink before you leave. I've bothered you enough asking you to come here in the first place."

He looks up at you for a second before looking back at his phone to skim the questions.

"I don't care."

Tough crowd, huh.

Before you start, a waitress comes to your table asking what you and Levi would like to drink. You tell her you'll have a grapefruit green tea while Levi orders a cup of black tea.

"I'm gonna record the audio on my phone, and then we'll take turns answering, yeah? Jean said he'd edit in his own voice." He hums in understanding, and so you go to open your voice-recorder app and tap the "record" icon before placing your phone between the two of you. "I can answer first, since you have the questions."

He sighs.

"'What's your name?'"

You answer, and he does the same. Easy enough to start.

"'What's your major?'"

"I'm a public health major. You?"

"I'm in CS," he replies. "'How did you find out about the Paradis Marriage Pact?'"

"You forced me to take it," you say, voice wavering as you're unsure if you're supposed to pretend Jean is there or not. Levi looks up at you, his frown now replaced with a neutral expression.

"Are we going to pretend your friend is here?" He asks.

You groan and put your head down. "You're right, it's probably stupid."

He shakes his head. "No, it isn't. It'll help trick Pixis into thinking he's actually here."

You bring your head up and nod slowly, bobbing your head.

For someone who said he didn't care, he sure is nice. Well, as nice as you can be to a complete stranger.

The waitress comes back with your drinks, and you both thank her.

Levi glances back down at his phone. "'Did you know each other before the Paradis Marriage Pact?'"

"You didn't answer the last question."

Levi rolls his eyes. "I mentioned it to you before. My roommates took it for me, so I didn't even know what this thing was until one of them brought it up to me."

After reaching for your cup to take a sip, you speak up.

"Well, we gotta make something up. You could say they showed it to you, and you decided to take it," you reason. He sighs.

"Okay, then. My roommate showed it to me, and I thought it was worth taking," he says, taking a sip of his own drink. "This is good."

Having never been at this café before, you can't agree or disagree, so you just smile. You notice that he's holding his cup by the rim, which is a bit odd, but it feels fitting for him.

"And no, we didn't know each other before this. It's kind of late now, but it's nice to meet you. Thank you for agreeing to come."

"It's nice to meet you, too."

The two of you continue like this: answering questions, slowly making your way down the list. They're all pretty general—just asking about things like what careers you're aiming for and what hobbies you have. You find out that he's interested in tea tasting, and he finds out that you're interested in gardening. Quite a bit of time passes, and soon enough, it feels like you're just having a conversation with a friend and not recording an interview.

You notice that he hasn't taken a drink in a while, so you speak up to ask him about it.

"Are you out of tea?" You ask.

He nods, scrolling down to the next question. Looking around for the waitress, you call her over to your table.

"What can I help you with?" She asks.

"Could we get two more cups of black tea, please?" At the mention of the drink, Levi looks up at you and the waitress.

"Of course! Let me get that for you," and with that, she's headed off for the drink bar.

"You didn't have to get more, you know." Levi says. "Why'd you get two cups?"

You smile, bringing your cup back up to finish the last of your grapefruit tea. "If you like it, it's probably worth trying. You said you try teas a lot, so I trust that it's good." He rolls his eyes, but you can see the corner of his mouth twitch upwards into a sort of half smile. "Anyway, next question?"

"'Are you happy with your match?'"

"Well, since Jean's supposed to be interviewing a successful match, I'll go along with that. You've been good company too, so yes, I'm happy with my match."

"I feel the same, then." You're glad he goes along with your answer, so you smile over at him. "'Why do you think you were paired together?'" He reads.

"Could you answer this one first? I don't really know how we could lie about this one."

He hums, looking up at you again. "I don't know what kind of questions were on the Pact, but from our conversation so far, you seem like a good person."

You're taken off guard, so you avoid his gaze, looking down at your empty teacup. "You think so?" You can feel your ears start to get red, so you feign fixing your hair to try and cover them. You didn't expect any answer like that from him even with all the talking you've been doing, so you're flustered.

"You didn't know who I was, and you went this far to help your friend with his project. Even after I told you I'm not actually your match, you still wanted to get the data for him. I think most people in your situation would've let him figure it out on his own."

You laugh good-naturedly, putting your hands in your lap. You look up to see him still focused on you, and the blush on your face feels a little hotter.

You want to thank him and try to answer Jean's question, but before you can say anything, the waitress comes back with two new cups of black tea and takes away yours and Levi's empty cups. The two of you reach for the cups set in front of you, and you take a sip together.

"You're right, this is good," you say. He nods in agreement, and the two of you put your cups down.

"Alright, this is the last question. 'Both of you selected 'no' when asked if you believed in soulmates. Why do you believe that?'" Levi recites from Jean's questions. He pauses, a new frown forming on his face. "One of my roommates texted me to ask this a while ago. No wonder."

You laugh at that, covering your smile with your hand. "At least we don't have to come up with another lie."

He nods. "Yeah."

"Well, there's not really much to say. I think the idea that there's only one person destined to love you is pretty limiting, and then the chances of meeting them would be slim-to-none," you answer. You see Levi nod from the corner of your eye, so you continue. "Falling in love with them would be even harder. It's not really worth believing in soulmates, in my opinion."

"I feel the same way, more or less," he adds. "The idea is there, though."

"Yeah, it'd be nice if there was a way to know someone's perfect for you. Ever heard of the Paradis Marriage Pact? I've heard it's worked wonders," you joke.

He looks pretty unamused, though.

"Yeah, sure. It's so successful that the person who made it has to ask his friend to pretend they've found the love of their life," Levi says.

You laugh, nearly spitting out your tea. "Well, at least we agree that soulmates aren't real! Besides, anyone can fall in love if you spend enough time together."

"I suppose you're right."

Levi did say that the question about soulmates was the last one, so you get your phone from the middle of the table and tap the "stop recording" icon. The two of you don't initiate any further conversation, so you both sit in silence and finish your teas.

The quiet isn't awkward. It's... nice.

You flag the waitress over when you're finished, and after you pay for everything, she asks if you need anything else.

"Actually, could you take our picture for us?" You ask.

She nods, taking your phone from you to snap a quick picture. You smile, and you thank her as she hands the device back to you.

"You guys are so cute!" She coos, waving goodbye to you both. You and Levi both make eye contact, but neither of you say anything.

You check the time on your phone: 3:45 PM. You have a class at 4, so you get up from your seat to start heading over. You look down at Levi who's still sitting and wave goodbye to him.

"It really was nice meeting you, Levi. Really, thank you for agreeing to get interviewed, even if my friend couldn't make it. I hope it wasn't awkward for you."

"It wasn't."

You smile at him, tucking a piece of hair behind your still-red ear.

"Well, that's a relief," you say. You turn to leave the café, but before you can take any steps, you hear Levi clear his throat. You look at him, but he doesn't meet your gaze.

"Did you mean it when you said you were happy we matched, or did you only say that because of your friend?" He asks, looking down at his cup. You see a bit of red at the tops of his ears, so you giggle. "What's so funny?"

Even though he can't see it, you smile at him before answering, ignoring the latter question.

"I think I meant it."

You walk away before you can see his face, but you feel a buzz from your phone as soon as you're out the door. When you look at it, your smile gets even bigger.

Levi - 3:50 PM

I think I meant it too

♡

Jean yawns, stretching his arms above his head. He's finally back home for winter break, the semester having ended a week or so ago.

Despite that, though, Pixis hasn't released his grade yet, and he's getting worried.

Did Pixis somehow figure out that he messed with the audio file? Jean swears he did everything else perfectly, so it's gotta be that if he hasn't gotten his score back. As far as he knew, everyone else in the class got theirs back already. He's been sweating it all winter break.

For the hundredth time that night, Jean goes to refresh his school email. In addition to an email from the university's gradebook, however, there's an email from Dr. Pixis himself.

"Dear lord, please let this be good." He takes a deep breath before opening it. Realizing what it says, he screams out in joy. "Holy shit!"

"Jean-boy, what's the matter?" His mom asks, opening his door to see what all the noise is about. He excitedly motions her over to his desk, a big, bright smile on his face.

"Mom, look!"

Hello Jean, I am very pleased with your project. What an inventive idea—a program to match up students. Easy A. Thank you for not turning in the same boring project as everyone else. This may be a bit out of the blue, but I would also like to extend you a position as one of my TAs for next year's fall semester. You have proven yourself to be highly proficient in the course material. Attached to this email is the paperwork to formally accept. I hope you consider it. Also, good job finding a couple to interview. I seriously doubted that you could when you sent in your first round of data. Actually, I saw them the other day at the ice skating rink downtown holding hands. They look cute together, makes me believe in love again. Consider launching a similar program for professors, will you? I look forward to hearing from you. Best, Professor Dot Pixis.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #attack on titan #tao.levi #the paradis marriage pact #taomyou

98 notes · View notes

zorosleftshoe · 2 years

Note

Hii, can you do a Colby Brock x fem!reader when the whole group went to the haunted clown motel (2021)? :)

Sam and Colby plan a prank (identical in the video) for Alex and fem!reader. Fem!reader obviously screams and falls on the chair and tries to hide herself (I hope this makes sense, if not do whatever you desire <3). When they tell that it was a prank she makes jokes (for example: when we’re back home your sleeping on the couch (Colby) and etc). They have to sleep in different rooms: Sam and Colby, Nate and cameraman (Justin), fem!reader and Alex [obviously single beds XD], Colby and fem!reader text for a little bit and colby whines that he needs his cuddles and that’s pretty much it.

If this is too much I apologise in advance, I just rarely see these type of fan fics. Make it as long as you want it to be ❤️

Yes! I could relate to this cause I do NOT like clowns either 🤷‍♀️

Pairing: Colby Brock x fem!reader

Warning: swearing

“Clowns? They named a motel after clowns?” Colby can sense the skepticism in my voice and rolls his eyes playfully.

“Yes. Completely clown themed.” Before I can even spew my sarcastic comment he’s quick to speak. “Yes, it’s weird. Yes, I’m asking you to come.” I place a freshly painted finger against my chin and tilt my head in a faux pout.

“Hm. You know I don’t like clowns, Colbs.” He leans forward and takes my hand pulling me to him and I lazily throw my arms around his shoulders.

“But I want you there, baby.”

“You kill me. You absolutely kill me.” He kisses my forehead quickly before turning to walk out of the room. He makes it halfway before the pillow I throw smacks him in the back of the head. “You owe me.”

Sam, Colby, and Nate are stood reading reviews from previous guests and I can’t help but scrunch my nose is disgust. This place is horrible. Not only that but at every corner there is a clown staring at you with its beady eyes. I hear Nate mention something about a guest complaining about the LEDs and my eyes dart in their direction.

“Well, at least if a killer clown manages to break in we’ll see him coming.” Colby shoots me a look and I stick my tongue out at him before looking around us. Clowns, clowns, and more clowns.

“Why are we staying here again?” Colby asks tilting his head at Sam and Nate jokingly. Sam and Nate head off in the direction of the main area and Colby reaches out to me. I follow in pursuit and he presses his hand against my back guiding me along.

“I hate this.” I stick out my lower lip and Colby mocks me by doing the same. “You’re mean.”

“Mm, but I love you.” He kisses me gently and we begin our journey to the rest of the motel. We’re all standing by the office when Colby pipes up again. “This property is protected by killer clowns.” I glance at Alex who is already looking at me with a similar look on his face.

“If I die tonight, I’m haunting all of your asses.” I say pointing a finger at each of the boys individually. With a huff I follow them into the office and watch as the graze over all trinkets and Knick knacks.

“What is your best pick-up-a-clown pick up line, right now?” One of the boys asked gaining my attention.

“Can I show you a circus tonight?” Sam asks looking into the camera. I roll my eyes and let out a groan. There’s no way I can deal with this all night. Colby winks at me before looking back to the camera and saying ‘you’ve got red balls, but mine are blue’. I stop listening after that. The boys go to talk to the owner and I continue to look at the different clown statues that stand around the small building. If one of them reaches out, I’ll definitely throw up. I hear Colby ask the owner if he thinks the rooms are haunted and not long after we’re headed to the rooms. The sleeping situation was, unusual, if you asked any of us. Nate and Justin were in a room together, Sam, Colby, and I were in a room together, and Alex was left alone by himself. I offered to bunker down with Alex but when I did Colby shot me a look and claimed he couldn’t protect me if I was that far away.

“Colby.” My voice wavered as I focused on the painting that was staring back at me from the wall. “Be for real right now. I am NOT sleeping in here.” He rolled his eyes and took a few steps towards me before slinging his arms around my shoulders.

“You’ll be sleeping with me. I’ll protect you.” I roll my eyes and punch his side lightly.

“Like you did at my mom and dad’s when my cousin dressed up as Bigfoot?” Colby glanced down at me before straightening out his jacket.

“That was a moment of weakness.” I lightly chuckle at his words and follow them to the next room. Once they’re done checking everything out they ask Nate, Alex, and myself to head to the car for a minute while they set up a seance in our room. Although I wasn’t entirely comfortable with it, I wasn’t going to cause a scene and ruin the video they had planned.

Alex and I were sat at the car scrolling through our phones when he looked over at me.

“You look uneasy.” He wasn’t wrong. I could tell he wasn’t trying to be degrading with his words. He was just trying to make conversation.

“I don’t like clowns.” He chuckles.

“Then what are you doing here?” He raises his hands when he realizes how that may have sounded. “I don’t mean that in a bad way. I just mean, this is literally a clown motel.”

“Colby. Why else.” That causes us both to laugh. When I look back up I see the rest of our group walking towards us. “Are we ready to explore?” I follow the boys around aimlessly as they continue with their investigation. Colby keeps his space as he walks next to Sam near the front of our small group. A chill creeps up my spine as we enter the graveyard and I have the urge to turn back, to sleep in the car for the night, but I continue forward.

“Don’t step on the graves, guys.” I say quietly. Before I can see if anyone heard me a dog jumps over the fence and rolls onto his back. “Oh, hello!” I give him a few belly rubs and he runs off to greet the others. The boys agree to go back to the room and do the seance and my stomach churns at the thought.

When we get to the room Sam and Colby are sitting on the bed closest to the bathroom and Nate is standing next to them while Alex is sitting on the bed closest to the door with me. All of a sudden we hear a thud and a clown emerges from the bathroom. I let out a scream and jump up from the bed, backing away from the stranger in our room. My foot catches something and before I know it, I’m tumbling to the ground with the chair beside me. In a moment of panic, I grab the chair and crawl behind it. My eyes are closed tight as the boys start to laugh at one another.

“You knew it was gonna happen.” I hear Alex say but I’m still too stunned to look. My heart is beating a mile a minute and when I open my eyes Sam, Colby, Nate, and Justin are eyeing Alex and I with smiles plastered on their faces.

“Welcome to the prank wars, bitches!” Sam says before pointing at us with his hands. I let out a huff, still trying to catch my breath, and grab the pillow that was sitting in the chair next to me before chucking it at Sam. Colby hops over the bed and sticks his hands out to help me up but I push him back playfully.

“Oh, ho, ho. No way. You’re in the dog house, buddy.” His eyes widen at my words and I flip him off. “You were in on this, you asshole. I nearly had an aneurysm.” Colby gives me a faux pout but I just pinch his bottom lip before grabbing my bag and looking at Alex. “Alex, show me to our room.”

The night quickly comes to a close and Alex is fast asleep in his bed. His snores the only thing keeping me sane as the clown on the wall stares me down. My phone vibrates next to me on the bed and I grab it.

Colbs❤️

I’m sorry baby. We got you good though

I roll my eyes and open up the text thread before typing my reply.

Only because I don’t like clowns. You better sleep with an eye open, baby bear.

The room is silent for a few moments before my phone vibrates again and I roll my eyes playfully before picking it up.

Colbs❤️

Were you serious about sleeping on the couch? I need my cuddles, woman!

With another eye roll I put my phone back down on the bed and close my eyes, preparing for sleep. My phone vibrates again and I groan before looking at it.

Colbs❤️

I need my cuddles!

With a soft chuckle I type out a short reply and put my phone down before drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

#sam and colby #colby brock x you #colby brock x y/n #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader

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antichilde · 4 months

Text

margin of error: part 2

satoru gojo x fem reader, 2.8k words mdni

in which gojo makes some progress…?

contents: student teacher!gojo, student reader, no curses, college au, slight age difference (gojo is 20, you are a couple years older), he falls first, no smut (for now)

notes: here we go again. as always comments/asks are appreciated. (image citation)

part one | part three | read on ao3 | read on wattpad

Gojo’s pleasantly surprised when you’re the one to initiate the next conversation.

He looks up from his work and spots you hovering by the door to the study room where office hours are set to take place. It’s been a slow day, though to be honest it’s always a slow day when it comes to office hours. Usually people don’t need much help with an intro level course, especially not this early in the school year.

“Is Shoko here?” you ask, hugging your bag to your chest as you look around.

“Just me today. Can I help you with something?”

After carefully weighing your options, you step forwards into the room. “I was going to ask her to go over the stuff from class this week. We usually run through Yaga’s powerpoints.”

Nodding, Gojo opens his laptop and pulls Canvas up. You take a seat across from him, still a little reluctant, eyeing him with what might be dislike but is more likely distrust.

“Just this week’s stuff?” he asks, glancing up at you.

“Mm-hm.”

It’s not a lot of material, nor is it anything particularly challenging, and as Gojo reviews it with you he wonders if this is just some ploy to get closer to Shoko. She is pretty, and although Geto had said you like guys that doesn’t rule out the possibility that you’re into women as well. Besides, there’s no way you’d really need to go through such basic stuff, right? Not when you’d just been taught it the day before.

Your concentration suggests otherwise. He’s surprised by how seriously you take his explanations, jotting down notes and stopping him in several places to ask more questions. By the time he finishes, you seem to have a much firmer grasp on the material.

“Thank you,” you say, putting away your things. “That was helpful.”

He frowns. “You sound surprised.”

“I am, but you’re actually a pretty good teacher.”

The praise catches him off guard, hidden beneath a tone that suggests indifference. His brows furrow for a moment as he tries to get a read on you, though he schools his expression quickly.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” he replies, deciding to take your words at face value. “Shoko’s pre-med track is picking up, so she’s just going to be helping with labs outside of class.”

“Yeah, she told me. I didn’t realize it would happen so soon though.” Biting your lip, you take a moment to think. “Is it okay if I stop in after the next lecture?”

“Of course,” Gojo says, already drafting a victorious text to Geto in his head. Nothing too smug, just something along the lines of ‘I’m totally her type she wants me so bad.’ Because that’s gotta be what you’re thinking, right? Asking to come back again so soon?

Getting to your feet, you scoop up your notebook and tuck it under your arm. “Thanks. I’ll see you in class, Gojo.”

You disappear into the hall, shutting the door behind you with a soft click. He sits back, already dissecting the encounter in his mind. It seems that you praise of his teaching abilities had been genuine after all. Definitely progress, not to mention you’d remembered his name this time.

The days grow shorter as October wears on. Gojo’s own school work begins to pick up, though of course most of it poses little difficulty for him. There’s only one class that he thinks might cause problems down the line, and that’s Creative Writing.

“How the hell did you land in Creative Writing?” Geto asks, pouring boiling water into his teacup. “That doesn’t exactly fit your M.O.”

Gojo groans, resting his cheek on the kitchen counter. “It was a last minute edition. I forgot we’re required to take a language arts class, and I’m not going to have time to do it next year.”

Setting down the kettle, Geto leans back against the kitchen cabinets. “I think it’ll be good for you. What’s on the syllabus?”

“Poetry,” Gojo spits, managing to squeeze several cobras worth of venom into that single word. “Who thought having a well-rounded education was a good idea?”

“Not me, that’s for sure. I’ve got a mandatory life sciences class coming up.” Geto pauses, leaning forwards to put himself in Gojo’s line of sight. “But who knows, maybe you’ll be my TA. Just don’t flirt with me too much, I hear you’re quite the distraction.”

Peeking out from beneath the curtain of his bangs, Gojo smiles. “So she said I’m distracting?”

“I think her exact words were ‘pain in the ass,’ but yeah, something along those lines.”

He goes back to sulking, his skin still pressed against the cool stone of the countertop. When he speaks, his voice is muffled.

“Did she really say that about me?”

Shaking his head, Geto smiles faintly as he straightens up. “No, I’m just messing with you. She did tell me that you’ve been helping her with her work though.”

So you’d talked to Geto about him, and by the sound of it you’d had positive things to say. That’s good to know, especially given how impossible it is to read you. Even after meeting a couple more times, Gojo has no idea what’s going on in your head.

“Do you think she’ll show next week?” he asks.

“At the party? Could go either way. I invited her, but she hasn’t gotten back to me yet. It’s hard to pin her down about that kind of thing.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Gojo says, sounding thoughtful. “In case she ever asks me to pin her down.”

He laughs at Geto’s irritated expression. “C’mon, you know I’m kidding.”

“No you’re not.”

“No, I’m not,” he concedes. “But I mostly said it to annoy you.”

Geto checks the time on his phone, pushing off of the cabinets and returning to his neglected mug of tea. Fishing out the bag, he tosses it into the compost.

“You’re not really going through with this, are you?” he asks, taking a sip and wincing as he burns his tongue.

“With what?”

“With the whole ‘I can make her fall for me’ bit. It’s kind of messed up.”

Leaning back, Gojo crosses his arms. He’s pulled this kind of thing before, winning hearts just for the hell of it, and though Geto has never exactly approved, this is the first time he’s said anything outright.

“Are you sure you don’t have feelings for her?” he asks.

Geto sighs, raking his free hand through his hair and pushing it out of his eyes. “I told you it’s not like that. Is it really so hard to believe that I care about my friend’s wellbeing?”

“No, I guess not, though I don’t understand what you’re so upset about. She’s an adult who can take care of herself, right? That’s what you said last time.”

Geto’s phone buzzes before he can answer. He scoops it up from the counter, unlocking it. “Utahime says she’s on her way to drop off drinks for the party.”

The phone vibrates again as another text arrives.

“…And that she’s going to start charging a service fee if we keep asking her to get us alcohol.”

“That seems like a pretty empty threat,” Gojo says, grateful for the change of subject. “I doubt we’ll throw any more parties before I turn twenty-one.”

“God, I hope not. I’d like to get at least some of our security deposit back.”

Shoving his phone into his pocket, Geto sets his tea on the counter and turns away. “I’m going to meet her outside. I’ll text you if we need your help carrying anything.”

“Okay, just let me know!” Gojo calls after him, reaching for his phone. It’s muted before Geto’s even had time to shut the door.

Gojo bounces his knee under the desk, neglecting the poem that he’s supposed to be annotating. Creative Writing has been even more of a pain than he’d expected— something about it just doesn’t click with him. He sighs, frowning as his eyes drop to the paper.

To Gojo, pretty words are a means to an end. They’re good when he wants something, but when it comes to writing he can’t see much value in them. Why use something in a hundred words when one will do? And why curate those hundred words when they’re not even necessary in the first place?

“You look unhappy.”

He jumps at the sound of your voice, looking up to see you standing in the doorway.

“I’m fine,” he says with a smile, shoving the paper under his computer and safely out of sight. “Just doing some homework.”

Part of him wants you to push the subject, to question him about his behavior and ask if he’s alright. But you don’t. Instead you take your seat, pulling out your notebook and setting it on the table just like you always do.

“I was looking at the study guide for the next test, and I think I might’ve missed a couple things in class. Can we go over it?”

“Sure,” he says with a pang of disappointment. “Which parts are you having trouble with?”

All of them, it would seem. Gojo sneaks a couple covert glances at the clock, trying to work out whether or not you’re going to run overtime. Office hours technically end at 5:30, but he has the feeling that you’re going to need longer than that.

Shit. He’d planned to meet up with a girl at 6:00. At this rate there’s no way he’ll be able to make it.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, pausing to massage some life back into your cramped wrist. Even from across the table Gojo can see the indent in your middle finger, left there by the constant pressure of your pencil. His own hand twinges in sympathy.

“One sec, I just realized that I forgot to text Suguru back about something.”

He pulls out his phone, drafting a ‘sorry-I-won’t-be-able-to-make-it’ text. Out of the corner of his eye he sees you stretch, tracking the way your shirt catches on the underside of your bra. Suddenly bailing on his plans doesn’t seem like such a bad thing.

“I didn’t think I’d need so much help,” you say, checking the time and wincing when you see how late it is. “I can try and figure out the rest on my own if you need to go.”

Sending the message, Gojo shoves his phone into his pocket and turns his attention back to you. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not like I have anywhere I need to be.”

Hopefully you won’t catch him in a lie by following up with Geto, though maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing for you to know he’s prioritizing you over other women.

“Ready to keep going?” he asks, placing a hand on the study guide and spinning around it to face you. You nod, picking up your pencil.

It’s fully dark out by the time the two of you leave the library, a combination of the days growing shorter and the extra hour or so that you’d spent together.

“I’ll walk you home,” Gojo says, holding the door open.

You pause inside the foyer. “Try rephrasing that.”

“Um.” His mind races as he tries to figure out where he went wrong. “…Can I walk you home?”

He half expects you to flat out reject him, but you brush past, slinging your bag over one shoulder. “If you really want to.”

He leaves the door to shut itself, shivering at the sudden drop in temperature. It’s chilly out, a stiff breeze sweeping autumn leaves onto the sidewalk. They crunch under his shoes as he hurries to catch up.

“Thank you for staying late to help me,” you say, hugging yourself to keep your hands warm. Damn, he should’ve brought a jacket. What a missed opportunity— you’d look good draped in one of his coats.

“It’s no problem,” he says. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“Were you working on your Creative Writing homework when I came in?”

The question throws him for a moment, but of course you know about his stupid writing class. He’ll have to ask Suguru about what other information he’s spilled to his advisory chat.

“Yeah. I’m supposed to annotate a poem, but it’s really not my forté.”

“I thought you were good at everything.”

He huffs out a sigh, the cold condensing his breath into a little cloud. “I am, but that doesn’t mean I like everything.”

It’s a long moment before you reply. The wind tosses around the branches overhead, filling up the silence between you. Somewhere in the distance a siren wails.

“Are you doing anything later tonight?” you ask.

Folding his arms behind his head, Gojo spins to face you, walking backwards like a campus tour guide. “Is that your way of asking me out?”

You frown. “What? No. I was just trying to make conversation.”

“Aw, that’s a shame. I would’ve said yes.”

Skirting around a pile of leaves, you readjust your bag, moving it to your other shoulder. “I know you would have. You’re not very subtle, Gojo.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, dropping his arms back to his sides.

You narrow your eyes. “Don’t be coy. You’ve been hitting on me for weeks.”

So you’re aware of it then.

Logically, he’d known that you can’t be that oblivious, but some part of him had been holding out hope that maybe you are. Because the other possibility is that you don’t react because you’re genuinely not affected by him, and that’s uncharted territory. Everyone likes Gojo. Even people who don’t know they like Gojo like Gojo.

Still, he can work with this. The fact that you brought it up might actually make things easier.

“I guess you’ve figured me out, so there’s no point in hiding it.” He pushes his glasses up his forehead, making a show of mustering up his courage. “I really like you, and I want to get to know you better.”

You look past him, focusing on something else. “You’re going to trip on that stick if you keep walking backwards.”

“You’d catch me though, right?”

“Probably not.”

Sighing, he turns to face the path. The stick is there just as you said it would be, and he nearly trips on it anyway.

“Aren’t you going to say you like me too?” he asks once he’s regained his composure.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” You stop to grab the stick, tossing it onto the grass. It lands with a crunch in a drift of leaves. “But it doesn’t really matter either way.”

“It does to me. You’re not even going to give me a chance?”

You reflect on the question, then shake your head. “No. If you were telling the truth maybe I’d consider it, but I doubt you’re really interested in me.”

He frowns. “That’s a little harsh— you should be more confident. Hasn’t anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

“Yes. They have. My self esteem isn’t the problem here. I just don’t trust you.”

It’s almost eerie the way you say it, completely devoid of emotion. Had they been delivered in any other way the words would sound accusatory, and yet somehow he can tell you’re not angry.

“But I’m telling the truth. I really do like you.” His gaze meets yours, earnest and pleading. The look is calculated of course, but he’s played this game enough times to know how to fake honesty.

You study him for a moment before turning away, exhaling in what he’s almost positive is a laugh. “Now I know you’re lying. Next time put your glasses on first, your eyes give you away.”

The two of you slow as you approach your dormitory. Your calmness is throwing him off; this isn’t how things are supposed to go. He slips his glasses back over his eyes as the streetlights become more frequent.

“So, what?” he asks, running a hand through his hair. “You think I’m telling you this because I have ulterior motives?”

“Something like that.” Stopping in front of the building, you turn to face him. “Not that I mind. Ulterior motives or not, you stayed late to help me study and I’m grateful for that. I can put up with some flirting if it means you’ll keep helping me, just don’t expect me to reciprocate.”

“And what if I’m being honest?”

“Then I’d tell you not to get your hopes up,” you say, starting up the steps. “Thanks for walking with me— I’ll see you around.”

Gojo waits a moment, watching as you scan your ID and pull open the door. He’s not sure whether or not to count your conversation as a win, still mulling it over as he sets off for his apartment. You’re definitely on to him, but at the same time you don’t seem to mind his advances. There’s only one thing that he’s 100% certain of: that he has a lot of questions for Suguru.

#self insert #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #second person #jjk self insert #mdni #margin of error tag

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aclowntiny · 1 year

Text

How Enhypen Confess To You

(1/7 of this fic sponsored by my love of Day6 lol. Also, this is your daily reminder: don’t give ducks bread 🦆😆)

Jungwon

♡ The two of you had gone for a walk in the park, Jungwon having had a free day and not wanted to waste even the smallest piece of the precious spring beauty.

♡ At least that’s how it began. After a stroll beneath the blossoms, the two of you wended your way down the hilly green trails that led to the pond and tossed grape halves to the ducks that paddled around there. From there, you crossed to an open expanse of hills, the occasional couple and family dotting the wide green. You chatted, then Jungwon was lightly teasing you, and somehow in the shine of sun and mirth he started chasing you along one of the hills.

♡ You ran, giggling, and Jungwon was caught up in the joy of the perfect day. His foot caught as he ran, sending him stumbling forward. Before he could faceplant into the grass, though, you reached out and caught him by the collar of his cardigan, holding him steady and stepping closer to right him.

♡ “You’re my hero, (y/n),” he told you with a grin. “I’m just glad I was here to save you,” you replied with a joyous look of your own, “I think we were having a bit too much fun.” Jungwon paused, biting his lip with a bit of hesitance before he spoke. “I always have too much fun when I’m with you. Being with you, well…it just feels right.”

♡ “That’s exactly how I feel, Jungwon.” His smile widens, revealing the dimples you love, and his eyes drift down to your hand, which is still clutching his collar. Embarrassment flicks across your face, but is quickly eclipsed by mischief as you tug him toward your lips.

Heeseung

♡ He doesn’t think he should confess, frankly, because he’s scared of messing things with you and the guys up, so the rest of Enhypen decides to force his hand because there’s no way you guys don’t both like each other.

♡ They all hype up using one of their days off to go see a movie, all eight of them. Jay says he’s heard good reviews, Riki and Sunoo say they can’t wait to see it, Jungwon thinks it’ll be great bonding time for you eight. Then when Heeseung and you arrive at the theatres early just like the whole group chat planned, none of them are there.

♡ Seeing him as the most trustworthy, Heeseung texts Jungwon to see what's up, apologizing to you as he does so. "I'm so sorry, I'm not sure what's wrong with everybody." Ding.

Yang Jungwon: Oh, we aren't going, we all got...called in for a doctor’s appointment! ㅎ ㅎ Enjoy your date :3

Me: What? Was this all part of your little plan? It isn't a date if we don't both agree and think of it as one.

Yang Jungwon: Then make it one 😼

♡ "I'm sorry," Heeseung sighs, apologizing once more in a calm voice despite his internal monologue being ready to punch all of his dongsaengs, "now it looks like they're dropping the ball. Something about doctor's appointments or something. If you want to call it off, I understand." Your look of concern melted into incredulity. "No one's sick or hurt, are they?" Not until I'm through with them. "No, not really, I don't think." "Then as long as you don't have to leave," you say with a smile, "why would we have to cancel? I for one am really glad to be able to spend more time with you." The earnest way you speak, your pretty smile and the pleased tilt of your lips, it's all too much for Heeseung. You just sound so sincere, maybe, just maybe, this can be a date. If he doesn't try, he'll regret it for the rest of his life.

♡ "I am, too. Glad that I get to spend more time with you, that is. The truth is, (y/n), that I like you." "I like you too!" You reply brightly, leaning closer into his side as his jaw drops. "You do? The others were right then..." He pulls you into his side, chuckling. "Well, in that case, I'll tell you the truth: they bailed because they wanted me to make this a date." "If that was what it took," you joked, linking your arm with Heeseung's, "I'd have cancelled one of our plans long ago."

Jay

♡ Jay's torn. What's the best way to show someone you really care? A grand gesture, showing them you'd go out of your way for them and spoiling them with the appreciation they deserve. What's the safest way to make your feelings known without the pain of a long, hard, detailed rejection? Just slipping their object a little line that might go over their head.

♡ He practically practices the line more than the outing, convinced having the perfect one is more make-or-break than your destination, which you two would enjoy almost no matter what. He could ask 'wanna kiss?', then have a couple Hershey's in his bag as backup if you were grossed out. But that was a bit too forward maybe? It needed to be something between a compliment and a cheap pickup phrase.

♡ You arrive at the art gallery, the place where Jay had reserved entry tickets and invited you to stroll through with him. He has to smile at the sight of you dressed in a black outfit that was perfectly your style... and accidentally complimentary to his own dark-hued look. "Hey, we match!" You beat him to the punch as you greeted him with a hug, smiling wider at the fond look he gave you as you pulled away. At the thought of you two resembling a couple, Jay’s fondness intensifies. “We sure do.”

♡ You’re strolling past a section of Victorian art, landscapes and beautiful portraits alike. Every now and again, you tug on Jay’s sleeve, pointing him towards one that really speaks to you with sparkling eyes that have him subconsciously leaning into you that much more, far more taken by that than anything a paintbrush can create. His jacket brushes your cheek at one point, a flush of admiration creeping to his face at the adorable way you crinkle your nose.

♡ “You know where the prettiest work of art here is?” Jay suddenly asks you after a few minutes of taking in a gorgeous floral still-life. “Where?” You ask, head suddenly snapping up like you could beat him to finding it. Shaking his own head, Jay motions to you. “Right here.” If you laugh it off, he’ll back off, he thinks. But instead you turn your head away shyly. “I didn’t know you thought that,” you replied quietly. “I do,” Jay insists, craning his neck to look more directly at you. “And here I thought you were more handsome than any statue we saw today,” you added more boldly, and Jay was practically ready to faint. He settled for yanking you into a kiss before you could see his blush, though.

Jake

♡ You’re the most amazing person Jake has ever met, so you deserve to be told that, shown that & then some. What to do, though, that would capture it?

♡ Learn a song to serenade you with, that’s what!!! What captures how Jake is feeling, and how he wants you to know that even if it’s hard, you can say no? Day6’s 좋아합니다 (I Like You) is what he settles on, the words shaking him to his core when he listens to it, realizing it’s exactly what he wants to say to you. It feels like they wrote it for that moment. He wants to love you, but he doesn’t want to lose you, either.

♡ He practices every day that he can, learning a rendition on his guitar to back up the lyrics, which he pours his heart into every time. Finally, he tells you he wants to show you something, pulling you aside and readying his guitar as he gives you the most emotion-filled performance yet. Your hands are reaching for your quickly beating heart by the time Jake is finished, your voice faltering as it gushes praises for his beautiful performance.

♡ "H- have you ever felt like that, (y/n)?" Jake suddenly asks, head tilting as he looks away, running a hand through the hair falling at the back of his neck. "Yes," you reply quietly with a nod. Even as his gaze drops, your eyes follow his, much steadier than your words. "Well, me too. You're one of the best friends I've had, so I don't want you to feel uncomfortable, but I just had to tell you somehow how amazing you are. You're just a great person and you make me happy. Would you ever consider being more than friends?"

♡ "Yes," you repeated, this time a bit louder, "I thought my heart was going to explode because you were singing exactly how I feel about you! Yes, yes, I would!" Jake leapt off the stool he'd sat on to play you his song, running to stand by you and take the hand that was pressed over your heart in his with a few lighthearted taps. "No exploding! No exploding!" You giggled at his sweet voice and cute expression, feeling warmth rise to your cheeks. "How can it not when you do that?"

Sunghoon

♡ Bro it is a total accident 💀 leave it to Sunghoon’s luck…but also apparently do actually because it gets him to confess to you 👀

♡ It all started on Enhypen’s and your game night. Heeseung was all geared up to destroy Jungwon, Sunoo, and Riki at Mario Kart while the rest of you had somehow gotten entangled in a game of Monopoly, and we all know how that goes!

♡ “I’m the ultimate businessman,” Jay remarked, “so I’m going to win this!” “You never know,” Sunoo contested, “with my luck I might beat you!” “So you guys are just ignoring me?” Jake teased, turning away in mock offense. “That’s cool. That’s fine. You’ll all see. What about you, Sunghoon? Are you going to win or are you going to let (y/n) win?” Jake asked, turning Sunghoon’s way with a nod of the head towards you. After a brief, barely perceptible dagger-glare Jake’s way, Sunghoon responded, managing to cover his pounding heart with a “Well, we’ll just have to see, huh?”

♡ When you start playing, though, for all of Sunoo and the J-boys’ talk, you’re the one accruing wealth at the fastest rate, having gotten multiple chances at expensive properties that really stabbed everyone for toll. Jay, wanting to take you down, told Sunghoon the moment he had a chance to buy one off of you. “Ruin (y/n)’s chances of winning,” he urged. “Are you really going to destroy my empire now?” You mock-pouted, and to your faint surprise Sunghoon relented immediately, determined stare softening back up. “No, I like you too much to do that.”

♡ The game piece you were holding (the dog, of course, for Sunghoon made sure to sneak it by you so you had your favorite) tumbled out of your hand. “You like me too?” Sunghoon froze, eyes darting between the fallen pewter scotty and your slowly fading smile. Your own gaze started to fall from him…wait, you thought- “I do! I really do!” He blurted out in a panic before you thought he misunderstood. When your smile came back, he reached down, picked up your game piece, and pressed it into your hand. Taking the piece slowly, your hands brushing with his, you looked at him with triumphant joy. He finished his turn immediately, letting his hand creep over to yours when you righted your piece again, attention far from Monopoly. “Jake was right. I’m so letting you win.”

Sunoo

♡ No matter when he does it, where Sunoo confesses how he feels about you, he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’s a moment that’ll be captured forever in his memory.

♡ That thought gets his mental gears turning just as they turn trying to confirm he has a chance with you, working until they hatch a plan that makes him happy enough to burst into a smile just walking down the hall at work.

♡ “Hey, we’ve never done this before- let’s try it!” Looking up, you follow Sunoo’s pointing hand across the lane to lock your gaze on a photo booth. It was your first time hanging out since the idea had come to him, so he chose your venue wisely. Luckily you agreed immediately, eagerly pulling him into the booth and pulling out money to deposit into the machine.

♡ For the first shot, you did bunny ears on top of Sunoo’s head with your index and middle fingers while he did a flower pose, smile full as he laughed at your teasing pose and admired your smile. In the second, you made normal smiles as you each put a hand out, forming a heart shape. The timer started counting down, so you turned to Sunoo to ask what you should do next, only to be met with a dreamy look in his lovely amber eyes. “I like you,” he said. Your hands flew up by your face, barely able to obscure the massive smile that spread across it. Click. The camera went off right as you reacted, but you barely regarded it.

♡ The last shot on the strip, neither of you were really looking at the camera, you least off all as you were turned, eyes fluttering shut, lips pressed to Sunoo’s cheek. Just as the thought had echoed across his mind, he truly captured the moment forever and ever, each of you carrying a copy that you could hold and reminisce on for the rest of your lives.

Ni-Ki

♡ He wants everything to be perfect, so by golly it will be 😤

♡ Step One? He’s inviting you to your favorite place, be it a cute café or a full-on restaurant, you will be meeting him there. Step Two is procuring the flowers he will be presenting you with as you walk in.

♡ Which you eventually do, literally taking Riki’s breath away with how you make even the simplest of outfits look amazing and the way your smile holds a perfect day’s rising sun.

♡ Your mouth falls open at the flowers, blossoms delicately bursting from their paper confines as they fave you. “Riki, this is amazing, but what’s this all for?” You truly look confused and he almost wants to laugh. He does chuckle, in fact. “What? Is it obvious?” You ask him. You guys are young. It’s not like you’re getting flowers left and right. “It is to me. I really like you, (y/n). So we’re going to have the best day ever!” He smiles widely as his eyes fix you in a way they’ve never done before. It falters slightly the longer you stare, returning only when you mirror it.

♡ “I already have!” You exclaim, gently moving the flowers aside to pull Riki into a hug. You feel a breath of startlement escape him before he tightly hugs back, practically crushing the life out of you in response and swinging you back and forth a bit. As you pulled away, looking into those beautiful brown eyes, you giggled. “I didn’t expect you to be so traditional!” “I wanted to get the point across!” He shot back with a playful shove. “It only took me a second because I felt like I was dreaming,” you replied.

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #jungwon #heeseung #jay #jake #sunghoon #sunoo #ni-ki #gender neutral reader

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swiss-mrs · 6 months

Note

bestie… what does clubbing with goth and/or post-punk steve look like in your eyes? 👀 i would like to know

BESTIE

Not you opening the floodgates to us sending back and forth requests 🤭

Fun Lil #Swiss Fact: Back in Summer of 2021 my friends and I were trying to club/bar hop in a city/state we weren't familiar with and after 3 failed attempts (including crashing some rando's all-white party [I was in head to toe black]) we stumbled into a goth club and had the time of our lives.

I was in my little big titty goth girl era, so I just so happened to be in perfect dress code LMAO. This request has singlehandedly removed me from my pop girly mode and straight back into 80s/90s alt girl.

Haunted Haus

Steve Harrington x Goth Club Owner!Reader

Word Count:

Warnings: Good Music ✌️🤪, Steve-isms (some bad flirting, not so discreet looking, but also some not well hidden nerves), a lil angst👀, a single, '90s reference (just ignore), Reader being an absolute goddess.

Reader/Unnamed Character Description: No Descriptions Beyond Clothing, No Mentions of Age, Race, Ethnicity, Height, Etc., No Use of Y/N, She/Her Pronouns, Mentioned as "woman" and "madame", Bodily Descriptions kept minimal/gn

Synopsis: Steve may be in a chokehold by the abundance of hot goth girls in media rcently and decides to indulge in the dark and alternative scene irl.

××××💀❤️💀💀❤️💀💀❤️💀××××

Steve sat in the driver's seat of his BMW, gripping and twisting his hands around the wheel. The car sits stagnant in the grassy parking lot as minutes pass. "Come on, Harrington. You got this." Steve says for the millionth time, this time finally releasing a hand from the poor steering wheel to reach up for the review mirror, abruptly adjusting it to make eye contact with himself. "You got this." He uses his other hand to point at his reflection. Steve drops his hands to his lap as his gaze is taken from himself and to the paper sitting on the passenger's seat.

It was a flyer he'd stumbled across, or more accurately Robin stumbled across.

"I found the perfect thing for you." She burst through the door, taking Steve off-guard. He gave her a skeptical look, shifting his weight to one side, not really amused.

"And what is that, I ask regrettably."

"Ooo, that's a big word." Robin quips back a little too easily, causing Steve to roll his eyes, but Robin pays no mind as she averts her gaze to the paper in her hand.

"Haunted Haus, Goth Night." She flips the paper around to shove the front side in Steve's face. He jerks back, just out of reach. "Found this little baby." Steve’s brows furrow as his eyes adjust to try and read the text on the paper being held far too close to his face. "This may be your chance to find you a Hex Girl." Steve snatches the paper from her grip and gives her an unimpressed look, but Robin remains unfazed, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the counter with a smug look.

Steve props himself on one hand as he leans his weight against the counter with one foot crossed in front of the other. He looks down at the paper in his hands, reading off the provided information and address. "Isn't that the old creepy church looking building?"

"Yeah, the one right outside of town." Robin confirms. "I did a little investigating, and turns out someone bought the cursed thing and turned it into an 'unconventional' night club." She replied, lifting a hand to place air quotes. Steve huffs in response. "As far as I've heard, it's pretty underground but also pretty popular."

"Oh yeah? And who have you heard that from?" He raises a brow, looking over invisible glasses over at Robin. She scoffs in offense.

"I have my sources." She rolls her eyes at Steve's continuous skeptical look. "Look, you obviously still aren't having much luck here, and now that you've officially developed an interesting niche," Steve scoffs again and rolls his eyes at her subtle jab. "I'm just trying to help."

"Where did you even find this?" Robin stands up straight and shrugs.

"Sources." She replies nonchalantly.

Steve lets out a huge sigh before ripping off his seatbelt and throwing the car door open.

As soon as Steve's white nikes hit the field and he stood to full height, it was like the cool night sucked all the warm air from his lungs. He stares up at the gothic structure ahead of him. Even from the back of the lot, you could hear the music flooding from the open doors. It was quite shocking to see the number of people attending, at least to Steve. There was no way there was this many people in Hawkins who were into this scene.

Steve stepped away from his car just enough to close and lock the doors behind him, beginning his tread to the club. The closer he got to the front door, the more he started to feel his heart thump against his chest. He's no stranger to parties by any means, but all his experience was exclusive to house parties and school dances. Since graduation, he honestly fell out of the party scene almost completely. He wasn't in college, and the thought of attending a high school party after graduation made him cringe. This was an exciting new venture for him.

Just as he clears the last row of cars, he gets a good view of the small crowd just outside the doors. People who, outside of their clothing and makeup choices, seemed like unlikely friends. People of all races, ethnicities, and statures all gathered together. It was odd to Steve to see such diversity, but it was refreshing.

He suddenly became a little self-conscious by his own outfit choice. Though he was in the standard all black getup, he was severely lacking the accessories, leather, and/or face paint, and it became extremely obvious as soon as he cleared the lot.

Resting on the doors of the entrance was a scary looking man and a brutish, equally scary looking woman. The man leaning against the left door was tall, a whole head above Steve. His arms were crossed, showcasing the muscle on muscle he was packing. His unamused, grey eyes pierced through Steve with one simple glance. There was no telling how he was able to keep going, but the striking gaze didn't stop Steve's body from moving forward.

Just as his foot met the cement of the sidewalk, the lady on the right side, nearly equal in height to Steve, took as step forward and held her hand up. Steve’s eyes met her green ones. Steve stopped in his tracks, waiting for the woman to speak first. Before she uttered a word, Steve could see her eyes track up and down his body with a keen gaze. "You here solo?" Her deep southern accent through Steve off.

"Yes." He dares to glance back and forth between her and the guy to the left. Once Steve's eyes land back on her, he lifts his chin in fake confidence. "I am." The woman's eyes squint slightly, seeing right through his confident facade. Steve's eyes flit back to the man to find steel eyes staring back with their ever-present empty glare.

"You won't be causing any trouble now, will ya, son?" She asks, bringing Steve's attention back to her. He raises a confused brow. Why is he being singled out? His eyes nervously bounce around.

"No? I'm just here for the..." He trails, gesturing to the lively club behind them. "Why? Do I look like trouble?" His confusion slightly over taken by his sassy tone. The woman steps aside and gestures toward the club.

"G'on." She says before stepping back to her 'post' by the door. Steve stands in place for a few more seconds, still a little thrown off by the interaction. The woman gives him a look as if to dare him to test her patience, and Steve takes that as a sign to get moving.

Steve cautiously walks through the doors, side-eyeing both bodies occupying the entrance, the man's eyes following him. Steve begins to question what he's gotten himself into.

Once he's officially inside, the lights and music are quick to overwhelm his senses. It's dark within the confines of the building, but the red strobe lights cast an intimate, sensual, almost sinister glow over everything. "Nice hair." A voice just barely over the music brings Steve out of his trance. He looks towards the voice to find a short woman behind a pedestal with a raised brow. Her hair was dyed black with short bangs and curled wisps of short layers just above her shoulders. Her skin was as pale as the moon, and her nails were chipped and painted red. "$3.00"

Steve stared at her as he fished in his pocket for the cash. Thankfully, he remembered to check the entry price on the flyer before leaving home. He plops the bills into her outstretched hand before receiving a short nod as an 'OK for entry'.

Steve walks further in, stopping at the top of the short set of stairs that lead down to the main floor. Being slightly above gave him a slight vantage point to get a quick scope of the club. Again, what did he get himself into?

Steve took each step one at a time, pausing on each one as he looked around. There was nothing but black clothing and flowing fabrics on the dance floor, limbs moving in every direction to the mixture of synth, bass, and fast drums. A few years ago, Steve would've viewed this crowd as a bunch of weird freaks in a derogatory sense, but now, Steve just sees the opitome of freedom.

Steve cringes at the thought of his younger self. If only he was as carefree and comfortable to just be himself from the beginning, instead of being so judgemental and close-minded, maybe he could look back fondly at his youth. Well, no time like the present. He buried those thoughts and moved forward, deciding to plant himself at the bar for starters.

Moving through the crowd, he had to dodge arms and legs. Most of those dancing were doing so with their eyes closed, truly doing so as if no one was watching. His head was on a swivel as he walked, not only to make sure he didn't accidentally get hit but also cause he had this itching feeling of being watched.

Steve looked over his shoulder towards the door, but neither the 'security team' nor the wispy haired girl were paying him any attention. He continued to look around the crowd. Maybe someone from town was there and spotted him, but no. He couldn't find eyes on him anywhere.

Shaking off the feeling, he gets to the half empty bar and leans one elbow on the bartop. He looks over to a girl just a seat down from him with gel spiked bangs and a messy, half updo similar to Elvira's. Just as she's handed her drink, she turns and makes quick eye contact with Steve. He tilts his chin up at her with a slight grin, but it must've not been as smooth as he had hoped cause all it did was get him a once over and eye roll in return as she walked away sipping through her straw.

Steve doesn't drop his grin until she's disappeared back into the crowd, and the bartender addresses him. He orders his usual before turning away from the bar and leaning back on his elbows, scoping out the club again. He sighs.

"Just don't pull that same cheesy crap you try on the girls that unfortunately find themselves here." Robin says.

"Hey, it's not-"

"'That bad.' Yes. Yes, it is, Steve. It IS that bad, and quite frankly, it's just as hard to watch." She deadpans. Steve scoffs, offended, shifting his weight as his eyes look around, trying to find a rebuttal.

Steve scoffs out a short laugh, shaking his head at himself. He doesn't know how or why, but ever since Nancy, it just seems like he's lost all 'game', and that loss is really not helping when it comes to moving on once and for all.

The bartender returns, setting the glass down next to Steve, causing him to turn and rest his forearms on the bartop. They exchange nods before the bartender goes back to work, and Steve takes his first sip. Soon, Steve finds himself getting lost in the liquid contained within the glass.

Was he ever really as 'smooth' as he thought? He never seemed to have such an issue with 'charm' before, but then again, he was never really himself back then. Not since her. He was always able to seamlessly put on this charismatic, flirty facade before. Everything he did was the same persona that won her over. When he let it falter, she left him, but now that he's trying that guy back on, it doesn't fit quite right anymore.

A part of him should be grateful that he's found a friend group that is willing to accept him for himself, all his good and bad, his true self, but when it comes to his love life, he can't help but wish he could be that guy again. He's been alone for so long now, and it's lonely.

He just wants someone again. In the beginning, that someone could've been anyone, but the more time he's spent alone, the more he's started to think he couldn't take that someone just being anyone. The idea of him 'peaking in high school' scared the ever loving shit out of Steve.

His fingers fiddle with his glass, spinning it round and round in his hand. He glances down at his fingers through the glass, metal reflecting through. Shit.

His heart suddenly feels heavy at the thought of his fallen friend. Steve retracts his hand slightly from the glass to stare down at the ring on his index finger, a thick silver skull. If only he could see him now. As if he could hear his laugh, Steve turns his head to the right. Out of the corner of his eye, he could've sworn he saw that cheesy grin staring back at him, but he's instead met with a row of empty seats. Steve furrows his brows. If Eddie were here, he would've loved this.

Steve lets out a humorless huff of a chuckle through his nose. He wants to laugh at the thought, but it just feels heavy knowing he's not here to actually enjoy it.

Before Steve can get too deep in his head, he feels an odd sense to look behind him, so he does. He turns his head to glance over his shoulder, only to be caught in awe. Just opposite from him was the woman of his dreams walking down a flight of stairs, staring in his direction. Jesus, you were gorgeous. He couldn't tell if you were actually staring right through his soul or just so happened to look towards the bar.

Adorning your body was a long black dress with a slit up the side, stopping at the top of your thigh. Your legs were covered with sheer black stockings that had delicate, intricate lace patterns. The leather of your black corest reflected the red lighting, absolutely sinful. Though your dress was lowcut, your neck, shoulders, and arms were covered in a black lacy fabric that flowed out at your wrists. Your red bottom, black heels topping off your entire look.

You stalked down the staircase with a dark elegance that could move mountains. You are the definition of the kind of woman men would go to war for. You must be the queen of the underworld if there is one, and God, did Steve feel some type of way about it.

Unlike Steve, the sea of bodies seemed to unconsciously part ways for you as your eyes locked in on Steve. Steve was the only one in this very spot at the bar. There was no other logical reason for you to be looking that direction besides looking at him, but he still left as if he was not the object of your gaze, not even when you were standing right in front of him.

"Nice hair." Steve scoffed. If he had a nickel for every time he- Oh God, you're on the move again. You maneuver to step around him and claim your spot next to him at the bar. Steve watches you place your 'usual', getting a 'Yes, madame' in response. Steve can't help but raise a brow slightly at the formality, but his face drops when you turn back to face him. "You're obviously," your up and down gaze burns through Steve's skin. "New."

Steve suddenly feels as if he was standing naked in front of you. He'd been 'once-overed' at least four times since he's gotten here, but your eyes make him question if he actually remembered to put on his clothes. When there's a bit of a silence between you two, Steve clears his throat to try and regain his voice. "That obvious?" He holds a slight grin on his lips, but his eyes bounce around nervously, a dead give away of his true inner turmoil.

You raise an amused brow, "Well, to be fair, we don't get many well-tailored suit jackets and non-distressed jeans, but the all-black is at least a start." A glass is placed at your side as you finish your sentence. You give the bartender a quick smile and a thank you before he nods and moves on. Steve's hand self-consciously goes to tug at the lapel of his jacket. He tries to think of a witty, charming come back, but you continue before his mind can catch up. "So, are you here to find a girl to fulfill a fetish, or are you finally coming out of the suburbian closet?" You bring the glass up to your mouth. Steve tries to answer but is too focused on your red colored lips around your straw.

"I, uh," he clears his throat, looking away. He hopes you didn't, but you definitely caught him staring. "The second one." You let out a small giggle.

"Well, that's better than the former, I guess." It's a little bit of both, but Steve would be damned if he admitted that aloud. "Let me guess. Popular boy in high school, couldn't be caught being 'weird'?" You tilt your head in a way that Steve couldn't help but feel was both a bit condescending and also adorable.

"Right on the nose." He leans his forearms on the bartop again, grasping his glass in both hands to discreetly try and cool his sweaty palms. You lean on the bar right next to him. The scent of you overwhelms his nose, replacing the stench of alcohol, evermore heady and dizzying. The fight against gravity had never been so tough on his knees.

"Cute." You state simply, bringing your straw back to your lips and taking another sip. Steve looks over at you, a bit shocked. He was completely ousted from the crowd around him. He's the outsider here. The one trying and failing to fit in. He didn't think this whole 'loser boy' thing would be what got him brownie points, but to hell with it. If it works, it works.

"So," He leans up a little bit to adjust himself to face you, leaning more prominently on only one arm. "Are you a regular here?"

Your brows raise, "Repackaging 'come here often', I see?" There wasn't much room between that sentence and the next, but it was just enough for Steve's stomach to drop to his stomach, already feeling the rejection incoming, but it didn't come. "You could say that." You shrug nonchalantly. "It is a nice space and all." You add. "I haven't seen you in these parts." You shoot back a bit more dramatized, fully leaning into the cheesy line delivery.

Steve looks around, nodding and fixing his jaw as if he got caught red-handed for something. "Touché." A smug grin grows on your lips as you take another sip of your drink. He turns back to look at you, you already holding eye contact. He swallows down the saliva that builds on sight. "This is my first time here, first time at a party type event in a long while, actually." He admits.

"Well, I'm glad I could be here for your first time." You reply seamlessly, fully aware of the innuendo. Steve huffs out a chuckle. His face warms both at the thought of what you're insinuating but also at the slight embarrassment of it all. "Tell me. Are you here because you like the music or is it something else?" The way you adjust yourself has Steve screaming 'something else' in his head, his eyes following your every movement as you turn.

"The music." He replies shortly, still checking you out. He blinks away, trying to control his wandering eyes. He clears his throat, "A... friend of mine was really into heavy metal, and one rabithole after another landed me here." You hum out a response, nodding to confirm your understanding.

"Too heavy for you?" You quip back. Steve scoffs out another laugh, shaking his head and looking down at his glass, a few strands off hair falling into his face.

"I guess you could say that. It wasn't bad, just wasn't quite my vibe." He glances over at you, finding your eyes oh so easily once more. "This fit me better." A genuine, intrigued smile slowly grows on your face.

"So, is your friend here with you tonight?" You already could tell he came here solo, but you couldn't help but ask for confirmation. As soon as you did, though, something in his eyes changed, that little glimmer that was barely there to begin with was stomped out like a dying ember. Steve pauses a second before responding.

"No." You immediately regretted bringing up what must be a sore topic. "He, uh, he couldn't make it." Your smile long faded, but you couldn't stop your brows from quirking up slightly in curiosity.

"That's too bad." You say with a slight kind smile, trying to lighten things up. "Maybe come back next Friday, Metal night." Your smile widens hopefully with your suggestion. It brings a small one to Steve's lips but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Maybe." And you both leave it at that. A few beats go by before you try and change the subject.

"Well, since this is your first time and all," you start, leaning in on the two words with a small brow wiggle. "Would you like to dance?" Your question seems to throw Steve through a loop. You just asked him to dance?

"I, uh, yeah! Sure, of course." He stumbles a little, but overall excited, trying to play it cool. His little 'nonchalant, cool guy' facade fighting with his seemingly more natural 'playful and charming' attitude causes you to squint with a knowing smile. It's a bit comical how you can see right through him.

You finish the remainder of your drink by omitting the straw and drinking from the glass. Once the glass is placed back on the counter and stained red with lipstick, you grab his hand and start leading him away from the bar.

You don't get too far before your path is interrupted by the towering, grey eyed man from the front door. Steve's heart weighs down on his stomach at the sight of the man. He just looks like he could kill. "Pardon the intrusion, madame." His deep Australian accent cuts through. Steve furrows his brows in confusion once more at the reoccurring formality. "There is a matter that requires your attention. It won't take up much of your time." You look up at the man who looms over you even in your heels. You sigh.

"I will be right there." You reply. He takes a step back to give you space, but maintains a close enough distance to lead you away once you're ready. You turn to Steve with an apologetic glance. "I'm sorry. Would you mind giving me just a moment?" Steve is a bit stunned.

"Yeah, sure..." He trails, confused. You give him a smile.

"Save me that dance, will you?" He melts at your smile, thoughts clearing of any and everything just at the sight. He nods mindlessly. Your smile grows in return before you release his hand and turn to follow that security guard who came for you.

Steve watches you leave and can't stop himself from looking you up and down. Once you're out of sight, Steve makes his way back to the bar, returning his grip back to his sweating glass.

×××

Just as you said, you wouldn't take long, but the few minutes Steve had to wait felt like an eternity until you arrived back beside him. "I'm so sorry. You ready for that dance?" Steve stood up straight and turned to face you. Every time you appeared, it was like a God sent. You were ethereal in a way that Steve couldn't quite put into words.

"Y-yeah." But he made no move to get to the dance floor. You close the distance between you both until you're toe to toe. You cock your head to the side, silently questioning him. His heart feels like it'll beat out of his chest, the air wafting your scent straight back into his brain. "Why does everyone keep calling you 'madame'?" He manages to get out. He's not sure that was the question he meant to ask, but that's what came out. You sigh, pouting like you've been caught.

"Fine, I guess that cat's out of the bag." You shift your weight to jut out one hip. "I'm the owner of this place." Steve's brows shoot up. He wasn't expecting that. Maybe a manager or something, but the owner?

"You're the owner?" He repeats the question outside of his own mind. You let out a soft chuckle, grinning proudly.

"The one and only." After a few stunned seconds coming from Steve's end, you reach out for his hand again, stepping back and pulling him with you, leaving his now empty glass behind. You gently guide him away from the bar once more before turning to properly lead him to the dance floor.

Steve's mind floods with more follow-up questions and conversation starters, but there you go again, 'walking away' though with him in tow. His eyes find themselves glancing over your figure again. He wants to continue a conversation with you, to get to know you and all other secrets you're hiding, but as soon as you're away from the safe haven that is the bar, music overpowers all other noises on the dance floor.

You settle on a good spot for you and Steve, ample room for the both of you, but also a safe spot to be experimental, not really knowing if he has any dancing experience. The look you give him forcefully removes the air from his lungs. You start moving and flowing to the beat effortlessly, keeping your movements tame and fluid. Steve's eyes follow your hands as they run up your thighs, your hips, your waist, and eventually in the air.

At first, he's left there just watching you dance, but the show doesn't last too long before he feels your hands on his, pulling him close to follow your movements with his body. He slowly joins in with gentle swaying of his hips with yours, leaving his hands where you placed them, at the base of your waist. You allow your arms to move freely, the fabric of your sleeves flowing along with them. You throw your head back, allowing the music to take over.

The whining of your waist and gentle roll of your shoulders sparks electricity through Steve as he stares down at your body in all its glory. He can't stop the heat from rising within him.

Eventually, your eyes return to him and force his gaze to meet them. You give him a look before bringing your arms down gently to caress the sides of his neck and face. Steve couldn't pinpoint if it was the dancing, the alcohol, or you causing him to sweat so damn much.

You reach a hand up to run through the front of his hair, pushing his damp bangs out of the way. His eyes flutter to look down at your red lips, painfully watching the way they smirk. You tug on his hair, causing his head to get thrown back a bit. His eyes close, and his mouth falls open, and he has to fight the urge to moan at the feeling.

He continues to sway to the music with his eyes closed and head thrown back, just as you commanded, and as predicted, it had the exact effect you wanted. He gets lost in the music, lost in the moment.

Steve was instantly knocked into a state of bliss. He felt equally invincible and nonexistent. Nothing could hurt him. He was just here with you. Nothing else mattered. A weight was lifted off his shoulders that had been weighing down for so long he forgot it was even there. Now that it was gone, he felt weightless, like he would float away if you weren't there to ground him, if his grip on your hips loosened, if your hands on his neck left him. He was in pure euphoria.

Steve couldn't tell you how long you two stayed that way or how many songs passed, but suddenly, the tempo slowed, and the music quieted slightly. Your hands found their way to his cheeks, tilting his head down to no longer be thrown back. As soon as his head was facing forward, those pesky strands of hair flopped down again. Steve's eyes remained closed, so when you reached to run your hands through his hair again, the feeling of your fingers against his scalp felt like they were massaging directly against his brain. He felt lightheaded at the touch.

"What's your name?" Even through the ringing of his ears from the unknown stretch of loud music, your voice still flooded in as if you were speaking directly into his mind.

"Steve." He replies softly, not ready to leave his nirvana. You smile softly.

"Steve." You repeat. He was fine until you said his name. Now, he wasn't too sure how long before his legs gave out from beneath him. "Regrettably, the night is coming to an end." At this Steve's eyes open, though remaining half lid.

His eyes bore into yours, causing your soft smile to widen. You tilt your head as if trying to get a better look at his eyes beneath his eyelids. His eyes open up a bit wider at your small action. He looks away from you to let his eyes wander the room.

The dance floor has half the amount of people on it. The bartender is wiping down the bar top and glasses, and the two security guards are talking with the wispy haired girl towards the front doors. You move your hand higher on his cheek to grab his attention.

His eyes take in your face like it's the first and last thing he'd ever see. It causes your heart to warm. "Will I see you again, Steve?" Your voice melts through him. His lips part as he nods gently. His hazel eyes dance around your features with a small smile.

"I've never looked forward to anything more." Your soft laugh causes him to furrow his brows a little as he watches you.

"That was a good line." You approve. Steve scoffs, joining in with your soft laughs. He shakes his head, eyes bouncing around at nothing in particular before looking back to your eyes.

"It wasn't 'a line'." His eyes widen playfully as his grin widens, showing his teeth. "I mean it." His gaze goes from your eyes down to your lips. His head shakes again, hair bouncing as his small antic repeats itself. "You're quite honestly the most beautiful person I've ever seen, and I would really like to get to know you." You give him a genuine smile.

"You are quite the charmer, aren't you?" By now, it's only you and Steve left on the dance floor, the last stranglers leaving out the door, the music just loud enough to hear.

"Is it too much to ask for your number?" He raises his brows with a hopeful expression. You give him a big smile and drop your hands to grab his, leading him back over to the bar. You reach over the bartop to grab a napkin and a pen, writing down your phone number before slipping it into his breast pocket with a smile. Steve smirks, eyes dancing back and forth from your eyes to lips and back up.

A sharp whistle cuts through the venue, grabbing both yours and Steve's attention. The brutish, green eyed security guard waves her hand in a circle, signaling to 'wrap it up'. Steve turns back to you just in time to see your eyes roll in response. He bites back a smile, lifting an arm and offering his elbow. You loop your hand around his arm and begin walking with him to the door.

Just as you reach the entrance/exit, the three employees leave from their posts, heading to the bar to give you both some space. "You better give me a call, cool guy." You raise a brow, releasing his arm to turn and face him properly with your chin held high. He gives you one of the most charming smiles you've ever seen, resting his hands on his hips. His brows quirk up again.

"You better answer, gorgeous." You fight your flustered expression with much difficulty, ultimately failing. You roll your eyes to try and cover up your inability to hold eye contact with him right now. You shake your head, turning slightly back to the inside of the club. You look at him through the corner of your eyes. He raises another teasing brow, awaiting a response. A beat passes before you close the gap between you, lifting your hand to capture his face, dragging his face to yours and planting a kiss on his lips.

Steve's eyes nearly pop out of his head the second he feels your lips on his. His eyes just begin to blink closed as you slowly pull away from the short-lived kiss. Steve chases after you, not wanting the contact to end. He couldn't remember the last time he had been kissed. He didn't realize how touch starved he truly was until you graced him with your touch.

"Goodnight, pretty boy." Steve’s eyes open back up to find you've made your way back inside, hands holding open the doors as you bid him farewell. Steve’s mouth opens to say something, but nothing comes out, his eyes blown wide. All he can do is lift a hand to wave in response as you slowly close the doors.

"She sounds hot. Did you call her?" Robin asks, leaning over the counter with wide eyes. Steve scoffs with a sassy hand on his hip.

"Robin, I didn't get home until like 4am. I could just call her."

"Okay, well, that was Saturday. Today's Monday, and you still haven't called, dingus?!" She looks at him as if he's the biggest idiot in the world. He sputters a he tries to redeem himself.

"I'll call her today." Robin rolls her eyes, smacking her hand down on the stack of movies next to her before dragging them off the counter and into her hands.

"Whatever." She walks around the counter to get back to work. "It's the end of your shift. Clock out and give Morticia a call before I do." Steve's eyes follow her as she walks away until she rounds an isle and is no longer in view.

The entire drive home, Steve was racking through his brain thinking of different scenarios. "How was the rest of your weekend?... What's your favorite band?... How's owning a club like?" He talks to himself, practicing questions and answers. A part of him just wants to skip passed all the introductory questions and just get to the nitty gritty.

He craves to get to know you on a deeper level, on every level. He wants to share with you all his goals, all his fears. He wants to just spend more time with you. He yearns for your touch on his skin again, your hands on his neck, on his face, fingers in his hair, nails scratching his scalp, lips on his. He can't help but laugh at himself. He feels crazy. You've only met each other two days ago, and he's already aching for you.

He parks in the empty driveway, sighing. He's always been used to arriving to an empty home, but since graduation and his parent leaving him the house for his own, it has been even more lonely than before. He locks up the car and makes his way into the empty house. He hangs his keys on the hook by the door and makes a b-line to the phone.

Steve pulls out his wallet, taking out the folded up napkin he's been carrying around with him since Saturday. His heart races in his chest as he listens to the dialing, resting the phone between his cheek and his shoulder as he twirls the chord around his fingers. Just as he's about to give up and hang up with the phone, there's a distinct click of someone answering.

"Hello?"

×××

Hope you liked it, bestie☺️☺️😩 Not me making Steve a little hot and heavy in the club🥵

if it wasn't obvious, I'd do anything to run my hands through his hair 😩

💀❤️💀❤️💀❤️💀❤️💀❤️💀❤️💀❤️💀

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x black reader #steve harrington x black!reader

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employee052 · 7 months

Text

ozzies long-ass TSP ramble

For context, a few days ago i was in a thinky mood when i watched this video on Valve catwalks. it mentioned death of the author, and while ive heard of it, I didnt understand what it meant until after the video explained it. So i got thinking. the following was a series of messages I sent to my friends on a discord server im in (with the exception of the last part bc i just thought of it now even tho im sick) that i compiled for yall into sections so its easier to read. these are just my thoughts and could be totally wrong, i just wanted to share aksjdh :P (plus this is my second time im posting this so there might be some inconsistencies)

(ramble under the cut so yall dont get a massive wave of text on your dash)

"smth smth death of the author smth smth reviews smth smth interpretations smth smth skip button"

like idk if this was obvious to everyone else n im just finally getting it or not, but the skip button ending being about the narrator seeing the negative reviews causing him to create the button in order to appease them, which said reviews ended up making him believe he was being preachy and obnoxious and unfunny, but as a result, he ends up believing it and trying to appease those interpretations rather than be more confident of his dialogue and what it means to him(whatever he may believe) and ending up dying at the end bc of it being a kind of literal version a death of an author of sorts

---

im just thinking about how timekeeper/settings person/432/whatever is really only interested in the player, but not stanley himself. and if the narrator ends up dying (or decaying at least in my interpretation) during the skip button, could the same be said about stanley as a character as well?

like we never see stanleys model as us, we dont see his feet when we look down, and the only time we see him in game is either as a hand during the bucket escape pod ending, the mariella endings, and the not stanley ending. and the last two are cutscenes. for all we know, stanley could have died at some point during the skip button after the narrator did and we would never know bc we cant see him

but since 432's desk being at the end of the epilogue which happens post skip button ending, i would have said that was the first time we ever see him interact with the game internally rather than asking for the time. but i do remember someone suggesting that the timekeeper was the one who removed the door in the skip button in order to kill the narrator off and get stanley/the player away from him in order to talk more

with that thought in mind, that would mean TK had to kill stanley and the narrator off in order to be able to lead the game, push beyond the barriers of a narrator and character and just talk to the player, one on one

---

it makes me wonder if what the curator said in the museum ending holds more weight

like, she talks to the player as well. both she and TK talk to the player themselves instead of stanley the character. and when she says "When every path you can walk has been created for you long in advance, death becomes meaningless, making life the same. Do you see now? Do you see that Stanley was already dead from the moment he hit start?"

stanley's function is a character in the narrators story, a literary device to propel the game forward. the narrator makes the race track, and stanley drives. without the narrator where would stanley go or do, without stanley who would move the story along?

"Can you see? Can you see how much they need one another? No, perhaps not. Sometimes these things cannot be seen."

and yet, hes dead, just like the curator said. because no matter what, he's never going to be able to truly make his own decisions. the confusion ending lays out how all the endings are scripted despite what the narrator believes and acts, its all predetermined.

and in a sense, the narrators dead too. no matter what stanley tries to do to change the story, or the narrator changes to the game in order for stanley to react to, its been planned long in advance for the eventuality. every word, every event. and with stanley's deaths, it ends up just bringing them back to the beginning again, "What exactly did the Narrator think he was going to accomplish?" if they always come back to the same preplanned paths, to the illusion of free will, it doesnt matter regardless. death doesnt become a statement, it becomes an inconvenience.

"But listen to me, you can still save these two. You can stop the program before they both fail. Push escape, and press quit. There's no other way to beat this game. As long as you move forward, you'll be walking someone else's path. Stop now, and it'll be your only true choice."

The only way to save both Stanley and The Narrator is by not letting the story play out to begin with. To beat the game, which means to let the game end after you win.

and yet,

the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is never the end is neve-

In a game where there is no ending that stops the game in its entirety, where everything will keep on happening again and again and the end is never the end, the only way to beat it is to make a choice as yourself the player, not stanley the character.

because he doesnt get a choice, the narrator doesnt get a choice. they think they do, but they dont. the only way to beat the game is to not play it. (which makes sense given that there are achievements involving not playing the game in both the 2013 HD remaster and 2022 Ultra Deluxe)

both Stanley and The Narrator are two sides of the same coin that make up The Stanley Parable, and the only way to use the coin is to give it away.

maybe thats why the true ending of the game with credits and stuff like that, is the Not Stanley Ending.

You the player have successfully broken the fourth wall from the outside in, even though that ending was planned like all the others (ie, the game allowing you to disconect the phone), you break the illusion of being stanley the character, which the game ends up booting you out of stanley as it cant handle the "narrative contradiction".

maybe thats why the escape pod ending has the sign that reads "both the player and the narrator must be present in order to leave". its not stanley, its the player, us.

maybe thats why that ending is one of the most cruel. the only way to get there is to leave the narrator trapped in the boss' office. there's no way to get him to the escape pod. the end is never the end.

---

(this part was the new idea i just had today so this might not make sense i appologize)

going back to the beginning of this ramble about the death of the author and such. perhaps there is a way to get the narrator out.

with thoughts about interpretations and with he idea of the "death of the author", all of us have our own interpretations of the TSP characters. whether its design, or relationship wise, or characterization, or what have you. The Narrator in my head is different from you reading this, and that narrator is different from another persons perspective, and definitely our narrators are different to the one that lives in Davey Wreden's head, or Kevan Brighting, or anyone who has even heard of the stanley parable.

and that's not a bad thing! there can be many similarities to the characters that our interpretations share, some more common than others and some that make no sense at all, but for the most part we all have different interpretations of the characters.

I read a book called Book Simulator (The Reader's guide to not reading) by Chris Yee on stream once. The VOD is gone now. But I discovered the book because I heard the guy writing/the narrator of sorts for the book was written like the Stanley Parable Narrator.

It didnt help that Kevan brighting voiced over the commercial for it too askjdh

but back to the book. this will contain somewhat spoilers for it since it brings up a moment at the end of the book so feel free to stop here if you dont want to be spoiled

---

basically, in Book Simulator, Booksi (The book's instructional narrator on how to fake read at the start of the book) is arguing with The Narrator (no not ours, but the general narrator who speaks in the third person), however, its revealed by The Narrator that Booksi has a plan to take over the world by inhabiting more book simulators and distributing them across the world. But, the reader could kill off the booksi that they have in their hands that they are reading, to quote:

"Or was he the original Booksi? Maybe not. Maybe the original Booksi had been vanquished long ago, and the reader was now facing one of the many copies roaming the world. Both Booksi and the Narrator knew the answer to this question, but neither would reveal the truth."

---

Taking from Book Simulator the concept of multiple iterations of one character existing in different copies of the media they originate from, maybe in a way that's how the Narrator may die in the stanley parable, forever stuck to repeat the same endings with the illusion of free will, but he lives on somewhat for everyone that has seen or heard of him in any capacity.

this may sound a bit preachy (oh the irony) but bare with me:

The Original Narrator from The Stanley Parable is dead, dead in the sense that he and Stanley are stuck within the game, given the illusion of free choice, and unable to leave nor do anything to try and escape, is also alive in the sense that we the players perception of The Narrator lives on in our minds.

The Narrator from the game might be stuck, but the Narrator i see in my head, the one i designed and draw and think of is perfectly fine and alive as ever.

and the same goes with you and anyone else who has heard of the narrator. their interpretation is still unique and different to them even if it all comes from the same media. he may not be exactly the same as the original, but hes still there. and in a way, hes free.

(man typing this last segment down makes me feel like a gd priest, and/or someone talking abt the barbie movie akjdhkjasdh so sorry if doesnt make sense at all :P)

#ozzies tsp rambles #ozzie rambles #tsp #tspud #the stanley parable #the stanley parable ultra deluxe #stanley parable #tsp narrator #tspud narrator #tsp stanley #tspud stanley #tspud timekeeper #tsp curator #tspud curator

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