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klipkillakai · 8 months

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|pt 2|

humming the smooth melodies of jhené aiko’s music, you slowly walk down the aisles of the bookstore, picking up books and looking at the back reading the synopsis, this morning you woke up and decided you wanted to go to the mall..

usually you go with your bestie but she’s been in florida all week, so you decided to go by yourself, this was a little anxiety inducing but you went straight to your safe haven.. barnes and nobles.. where you can pick any escape you want

you decided you wanted to pick up some romance novels, it probably having to do with it being february and your new found crush but your gonna be delusional and pretend that’s not the case..

you think about him as you look through the books, you haven’t seen him at school all week and you feel worried? it’s odd because you wouldn’t have noticed before but now it’s different..

you haven’t attempted to text him out of fear, but you notice he hasn’t texted you either, it hurts a bit and deep down you can’t help but feel like it was too good to be true..

you shake the thoughts away and collect your books and head to the cashier..

connie silently follows the guards as they lead him out to intake, he’d been locked up the past few, some bullshit about a warrant.. he knew that was a lie.. he knew they needed to get him on something, but unfortunately for them he has one the best lawyers in the country..

he smiles when the guard roughly uncuffs him, muttering for him to get dressed.. the guards leave and immediately he shoves off the jumpsuit wrapped around his waist pulling on his cargos and tee he was last in, he opens the ziplock baggie with his phone in it, calling his employee, he tucks the phone between his ear and shoulder and laces up his shoes

“sir?”

“im out, send the car”

connie hangs up and shoves the phone in his pocket along with his keys and wallet and zips up his jacket, before pressing the button notifying he was done changing—

——————————————————————————

you hop off the bus, and start walking back to your house, you carry the few bags of things you bought and shiver at the bite of the cold

“oh nah” you whisper and start to walk a bit faster

a few blocks in you feel the urge to look behind you, you peep a hellcat going slow down the street but you don’t recognize it exactly, you think that’s odd so you keep walking silently keeping note, starting to feel paranoid you turn around again and it’s still following you.. not knowing what to do you keep walking faster until the car finally pulls up next to you and rolls down the window, you prepare to tell the whoever in the car off until you hear

“hey mama”

you stop dead in your tracks and turn to look at the man you’ve been thinking about this whole week

“connie?”

you walk closer to the car and he puts it in park and gets out, before leaning on the door, he smiles

“you missed me?”

wanting to say yes you shrug and say

“where you been? i haven’t seen you at school since last week”

he slowly slides his hands in his pockets and looks at you for a beat and says

“i was locked up, got pulled over on a warrant or sumn, but i got out quick because they had nothing to stand on”

you brows slightly furrow “jail? what kind of warrant did they say it was?”

connie slowly walks closer to you and, softly grabs the bags from your hand and nods towards his car..

“cmon, take a ride wit me real quick”

he goes around the other side of the car opening the door, before you slip inside, he places the bags on your lap and mutters a “seatbelt” and shuts the door quickly walking around to his side and looking around before slipping in the car, the car starts and plays loud drill music before he quickly turns it down and pulls off..

“you didn’t answer my question..” you say softly looking at him

his jaw ticks for a second and his thumb taps the wheel, “ion want you to worry about that aight?” he shoot’s a lazy look towards you..

“should i worry about it” he shakes his head no and you ask..

“is it gonna happen again?” he softly licks his lips and says “i’m gonna make sure it doesn’t”

you look in his eyes as he says that and you get the slightest flash of something sinister behind them, that erupts butterflies in your belly and you softly squeeze your thighs together

“okay” you whisper, and he looks at you again with a slight smile..

after 20 mins of driving you finally ask with a little laugh “where we going?” he pulls up to a parking garage entrance and pulls in before saying

“my crib” your heart skips a beat and, your feel yourself get a bit hot.. “oh” you whisper

“is that okay?” he asks with a teasing smile, pulling into a parking space, “yea i just didn’t expect that”

“don’t worry your safe, your always safe wit me”

you look up at him with a bright smile, and connie nearly wants to fall to his knees, he looks at the brightness in your eyes before it quickly lowers to your lips and he looks away, almost wanting to laugh at how smitten you’ve gotten him..

he opens your door, taking your hand and you walk away hearing the car lock, he leads you to an elevator, and he presses the fob to the button and presses the 10th floor..

you feel his thumb softly go back and forth on the back of your hand “you cold?” he says softly and you nod.. “i could tell when you were outside” he shrugs off his big carthartt jacket and drapes it over your shoulder.. the elevator dings and he pulls you into the hallways stopping at his apartment door, pulling out his keys, unlocking it and nodding you inside

you walk through the door looking around, it smells just like him, the fresh masculine smell, slightly twinged with weed, he kicks he shoes off and you do the same, pulling off your hot pink crocs and neatly placing them next to his shoes…

“so did you just get home today?”

“yea a few hours ago actually, i haven’t been home in a week, i fucking missed it” he pulls off his hoodie causing his shirt to lift under it and you catch a glimpse of his happy trail.. you want to scream because you find that so attractive but you look away fighting back a smile..

you walk further into the seemingly large apartment, looking around at the masculine decor, the black couches and large tv mounted on the wall, you slowly turn and notice a book shelf, you slowly walk towards it, hearing connie in the back opening a fridge.. you graze your fingers on the books about finance, stock investing… and your finger stops on a book about secret society’s.. you look back at connie before you keep scanning the books.. others filled law.. others about cars and guns…

“you like to read?” you ask connie

“that’s how i learn, knowledge is power” connie says as he stands behind you, slowly dragging his hand up your arm.. then slowly moving your braids to one side.. and dragging his lips up your neck inhaling your sent at the same time..

you let out a slow breath.. and you feel his large hands slowly press against your lower belly, and you feel heat slowly pool there..

“your so beautiful you know that?”

you softly smile.. “sometimes i don’t”

he softly pause before slowly turning your face towards his.. “i’m gonna ensure you do”

he looks in your eyes for a beat before letting your face go, “im gonna hop in the shower rq, then we’re gonna dip aight?”

you let a breath “mhm” you nod for reassurance and he smiles a bit before turning around and walking down the hall..

——————————————————————————

10 mins later you sitting on his couch tapping through stories.. you start to think about who connie is.. he got out of jail today and you still have yet to know what.. and.. and that phone call! the last time you were in the car together he told you the same thing “don’t worry about it” do you trust him enough to not worry about it? are you going to let curiosity kill the cat?

you hear the bathroom door open cutting your thoughts short, you look up at connie.. the towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets rolling down his abs.. gold chain dangling around his neck.. and his tattoos.. god you love his tattoos.. a snake winding around his arm.. a cross on the side of his neck and a large chest and back piece..

“i can feel you staring pretty girl”

you immediately look away feeling your body heat up from embarrassment.. he laughs a bit and shakes his head.. “it’s okay.. i stare too” you softly turn towards him and look in his eyes.. “i really like your tattoos”

“oh yeah?” “yeah” you whisper back shyly and he smiles at that, connie likes making you nervous.. he likes catching you stare and that little dazed look on your face..

“your gonna come wit me to pick sumn up, and we gon get food after or sumn aight?”

“you know.. you never ask.. you just tell” you say with a teasing smile..

“would you like me to ask? even if i knew the answer already”

“what makes you think i’ll say yes?”

“you haven’t said no yet..”

“maybe i will”

“well let me know when you decide to do that”

you roll your eyes and connie slightly smirks before walking into his room and changing clothes, he goes into his closet looking behind him before grabbing his piece and tucking it his pants, he covers it with his shirt and grabs a thick jacket and pulls on his timbs..

he sprays some of his cologne and slips on his rings and opens his nightstand and grabs his other phone slipping it in his pocket and leaving..

he walks out the room and sees you still patiently waiting on the couch, hearing your nails tap against the screen.. “cmon mama”

he watches your pretty head snap up, you quickly hop up, pulling up your pink sweatpants and rounding the couch walking towards him..

he grabs your hand and you walk out the door together, heading to the elevator and eventually ending up in the parking garage again, this time getting into a different car, he quickly pulls out, nodding to the security guard and pulling into the street..

he zooms pass other cars as he picks up his phone from the cup holder, calling someone..

he looks around before he turns, and starts to speak

“im pulling up, have it ready” soon after he pulls into a warehouse building, you hear his tires crackle against the the gravel and a man stands there holding a large black duffel bag, connie rolls down the window, dapping the man up before reaching down and opening his trunk, silently plopping the back the trunk and shutting it, without another word he begins to walk inside, connie pulls out the driveway pulling out into the street again..

you almost open your mouth to ask what’s in the bag but you choose not too, do you really want to know? do you need to know? it seems connie doesn’t think you do.. so you stay quiet..

connie softly looks over to you.. “whatchu want to eat?” you smile a bit thinking about it “mmm i dunno you pick” he shrugs and smiles “i don’t care about what i eat, i’ve been eating prison food for a week”

you think about it, and you smile getting an idea “let me cook for you” connie slightly pauses and looks over at you, his heart slightly soars and he says “forreal?” “mhm” you nod and connie looks at you with an amused expression on his face, like there’s an inside joke he’s having with himself..

“aight, bet” he quickly makes a u-turn zooming pass cars and soon after pulls into a whole foods.. he parks and nods for you to get out too, you walk hand in hand inside the store and you grab a basket quickly pulling on his hand, leading him to where you need to go..

you stand in the aisle looking at different types of beans as connie stands close behind you, softly rubbing your back “what are you making?”

“rice and beans with jerk chicken” he groans softly and whispers “sheesh” you smile and continue shopping, quickly grabbing all the ingredients and heading to self check out, connie helps scan and pays of course and you quickly put the bags in the car and head back to his place..

the tv is playing in the back as you cut up vegetables, the meat is already marinating in the fridge, and your just focusing on the rice and beans at this point, connie is standing next to you washing the rice..

connie loves this, cooking with someone, allat wifey shit.. that gets him bad, he hears you giggle at a joke from the show and he smiles, when you proposed the idea of cooking for him he almost fell in love with you on the spot, he likes that wifey shit because he knows he can match that energy by providing, he’s always wanted to be that.. a provider.. it’s just in his nature, he knows dudes who want a wife but act like bums when the opportunity arises, nah he’s gon take care of you back.. always.

he finishes cooking the rice and looks over to you “you need me to do something else?” you finish giggling at the joke and shake your head no “no thank you” you say sweetly.. and he nods before pressing a kiss to your cheek.. “i’m gonna be in my room aight?” “mhm” you nod and he walks down the hallway as you cook..

an hour later your rolling balls of cookie dough and placing them on the baking sheet in front of you, you hear the door open and connie’s comes out the room, he changed into grey sweats and a wife beater he smells the kitchen “damn it’s smells good in here”

you smile and grab the sheet, placing it in the oven and go to the sink to rinse your hands off “we can eat the food is done, i was just making some cookies”

he walks behind you, reaching up grabbing two plates and forks handing them to you, you go over to the pots on the stove and start making his plate..

“you eat alot? you ask and he walks up behind you softly rubbing your lower back “mhm” he hums and you start to put more rice and another piece of chicken and you hand him his plate before making yours..:

you end up on his couch, he puts on a movie and you start to eat.. “you wanna smoke?” he asks and you smile “you stay trynna get me high” he laughs and shakes his head before reaching on his coffee table, grabbing a box and starting to roll up, he sparks it and hits it before passing it to you, you pass it back and forth until your both faded and you start eating

connie takes his first bite and groans softly, pointing and nodding at the food “this is so fucking good mama” you smile knowing that it’s good and you take your fist bite “shiiit” you say and you both laugh high asf..

you talk and eat for the rest of the evening, you open up about yourselves, telling each other things about your insecurities, your outlook on life.. who you want to be as people, and that draws you closer, you both begin to understand that your just people that want love, and company and support.. and that connects with both of you, both of you falling deeper and deeper and not even realizing it..

you and connie cuddle, both wrapped around each other eating the warm cookies fresh out the oven, the high still hitting, you feel his hand softly rub small circles on your hips, and you feel butterflies erupt in your belly, and heat slowly trickling down..you softly adjust yourself, and connie notices looking down, he softly smiles and against his better judgement he slides his palm down, softly rubbing your lower belly, his pinkie lightly grazing under the waistband on your sweats and you softly bite your lip..

you reach back softly, and rub his hand on your belly, softly rubbing it, connie softly presses a kiss to your cheek, slowly moving down to your neck, nipping and sucking softly, your eyes lower and you shudder, you softly turn around, sitting up and connie follows,

you slowly climb on his lap, and his hands immediately finds your waist, you both hold eye contact only breaking it it look at each others lips,he leans in looking up at you for consent, you softly nod and he captures your lips in a kiss, you kiss him back the kiss is slow and sensual, as if your both making a map, slowly figuring each other out.. his tongue grazes your lower lip and you open your mouth , you tongues now dancing around each other, you slowly roll your hips into his his, and that sends a sharp shiver down your spine.. you almost gasp at it..

he hands slides up your chest and up to your neck, grabbing it and squeezing it, pulling you closer, the pace of the kiss becoming faster, more passionate..he softly pulls back softly biting your lip before kissing you again.. you wrap your arms around his neck, your nails grazing against the nape of his neck, causing him to shudder and his bulge under you twitching, this slightly intimidates you.. your a virgin and all of this is new to you.. your just going with the flow.. but damn does it feel good.. it feels better than any words you’ve ever read when reading your silly little romance novels.. even better than when you touch yourself late at night..

you slowly pull away, a string of saliva connecting you both, not wanting you to separate, his eyes are low and filled with lust.. he leans back and groans softly rubbing your ass “you gonna drive me crazy mama” your face heats and you smile “yeah?” you whisper sweetly while you softly rub his chest..

he watches you, and you lean in, laying your head on his chest, he softly rubs your back.. this combined with the weed and food, starts making you sleepy, your eyes begin to lower and connie notices..

“you can sleep baby, i’ll drop you off later” you sleepily nod and you feel connie pull a blanket over you and press a kiss to your forehead.. and you drift off to sleep, feeling safe and warm..

|a/n|

yalll! did you miss me?? hehehe i don’t think you guys understand the bull i just went through!!! tumblr dead deleted half my draft! i’m officially traumatized guys! i see why you guys write in word or like google docs or sumn! but i just wanted to say thank you for over 1000 notes on soft thug 1!! like ermmm i did NOT expect that thank you so much guys!! ily 🩷

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#black fem reader #black reader smut #connie springer #connie x black reader #connie springer x black reader smut #connie x black y/n #connie smut #aot connie #connie springer x black!reader #aot smut #aot x reader #aot x black reader #black girls of tumblr #black fanfiction #black reader #black y/n #black writers #black femininity #chubby

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augustinewrites · 1 year

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sweet nothing ft the fushigojos to make up for the last fic i wrote for them heh

gojo satoru was not made for domesticity. this has always been something you've known, something you've accepted.

you're just not sure that he has.

it's a little past midnight when he trudges into your bedroom, tired lines creasing his pretty face as he shuffles around the room. he greets you with a quiet hey, and a peck on the forehead before stripping off his uniform, tossing it into the basket with a little more force than necessary.

you raise a brow at him, but stay quiet as he stalks into the bathroom. in the years that you've been together, you've learned better than to back an emotionally repressed sorcerer into a corner and force him to say how he's feeling. especially one who’s just gotten back from assignment.

you try and fail to return to the novel you were reading, staring blankly at the page until gojo steps out. his hair is damp, a towel slung low around his waist as he digs around in the closet for underwear.

there’s no pageantry, no winks or eyebrow waggles or light teasing of, like what you see? stuff that would usually make you roll your eyes, but that you suddenly realize has been missing lately.

okay, something is definitely wrong.

so you shut your book, placing it on the nightstand as he crawls into bed next to you. he says nothing, simply reaching across you to flick off your lamp and plunge the room into darkness.

it’s with a heavy sigh that he rests his head in your lap, grabbing your hand and plopping it into his hair before hugging your legs.

"i can't go to okinawa with you guys tomorrow.”

“satoru,” you can’t help but frown, carding your fingers through his hair. “we’ve been planning this trip for months.”

“i know, i’m sorry,” he says, strained. “you should just take the kids without me. take shoko, or something. megumi’s already stocked up on his spf, and tsumiki was really looking forward to picking seashells—”

“satoru,” you interrupt when you catch his voice break. “are you— are you okay?”

he’s crying, you realize when he doesn’t respond, instead pushing his head deeper into your lap, muttering, “no.”

“talk to me,” you murmur, smoothing your hand down his spine.

"i don't want the kids to think that i didn't want to go."

"you've been talking about seeing me in a bikini for weeks, i think they know how badly you wanted to go."

your comment pulls a small laugh out of him, but it's still interrupted by a sniffle.

"what's this really about?" you ask softly.

"i've been...missing things lately," he mutters quietly. "little league games, piano recitals, science fairs. i leave before they're awake, i get back when they're about to go to bed."

sorcerers who are referred to as 'the strongest' don't get days off. they go where they're needed, when they're needed.

"you know they don't hold any of that against you."

"i know," he says, sitting up to look at you. "but i don't want them - or you - to feel like i'm not choosing you. because i would, but i can't. and i'm just tired. of all of it--"

you wrap your arms around him when his voice breaks once more, pulling him into a hug. he reciprocates immediately, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he releases a shaky sigh.

"it's not just about being there for the big things," you murmur. "it's about...being there when they need you to be. i can't hit a baseball to save my life, so you're the one who takes them the park to practice. you're the one who taught tsumiki how to read sheet music, and found a way to explain the concept of infinity to a ten year old so he could win the science fair."

without him, there would be no little league games, piano recitals, or science fairs to attend.

"besides, we can always go on vacation some other time," you assure him, rubbing circles across his back. "it's not worth it if you're not with us."

_____

satoru wakes to the sound of muffled laughter. a quick glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand confirms that it's 7am.

the lack of warmth pressed into his side tells him you're up too. it's rare that anyone is awake before he is, especially on weekends or days that he's set to depart. he can hear bits of your conversation with the kids as he gets ready for the day, changing into his uniform and shoving clothes into a bag.

"what shape should i try to make?" he hears you ask. ah, you must be making pancakes.

"a heart!" tsumiki suggests.

"japan!" megumi argues.

he knows you're going to make both. you're doing so when he saunters onto the scene, humming along to whatever song tsumiki's put on the record player as you drop chocolate chips into the batter.

he sweeps your hair away from your neck, dipping his head down to press a kiss to the nape of your neck.

then he turns to the kids, who are in the process of setting the table. "did, uh, you guys already talk about okinawa?"

tsumiki nods, but megumi just shrugs, wrinkling his nose. "there are a lot of jellyfish there anyway."

he of course goes on to inform everyone of the different kinds of jellyfish and all the horrible ways they could kill you. tsumiki chimes in to say that they won't attack unless they're bothered.

you press a mug of coffee into his hand, standing on the tip of your toes to kiss to his cheek before joining the kids at the table with a plate of pancakes.

the scene that unfolds in front of him is a simple one, but one that he's dreamed of all his life. a family sitting together for a meal, laughing and chatting about things that don't really matter.

the world's always going to need him. but this? this is all he needs.

because gojo satoru wasn't made for domesticity, but for his family? he'll try.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #keeping up with the fushigojos #gojo fluff #sweet nothing by taylor swift #jjk fluff

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waitingonher · 9 months

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ELECTRIC TOUCH — [jason grace dating headcanons]

author's note: i need 2024 to be THE year. 2023 did me soooo dirty. im praying

dating JASON GRACE would be like dating someone from a regency era romance novel…he’s just SUCH a hopeless romantic but he would rather die than admit it.

in the initial first few weeks of dating, jason was sosososooooo shy about pda/physical touch. it’s not that he was uncomfortable, he LOVES physical touch, but he had just gone so long without it that he wasn’t used to it. but eventually, he warms up to it…and now he can’t go without having at least one part of him touching you 😭

when it came to things like hugs, kisses, handholding, etc. jason would always wait for you to initiate it because he was so anxious about making you uncomfortable ?? fjsldfjs

but when you communicated that he didn’t need to ask/wait for you all the time, jason started initiating things more. even still, he occasionally gets nervous to even hold your hand? like wdym you’ve been dating for over six months and you still get nervous doing simple couple things 😭 it’s very endearing though

chivalry is NOT dead,, and it’s because of jason LMAO. he’s the type to swap shoes with you even though you’re wearing heels that are 3x too small for him, but hey, at least your feet don’t hurt anymore!

jason’s also hellbent on carrying things for you, opening doors for you, pulling out/pushing in chairs for you, etc… GOD HE’S SO CUTE.

since dating him, you don’t think you’ve ever touched a single door or car handle when he’s with you.

jason is NOT afraid to advocate or stand up for you, especially if you’re more on the quiet & non-confrontational side. if you’re in a group setting and someone interrupts you, he’s making sure you get your chance to say what you wanted to say. and he doesn’t do it in a way that leaves you embarrassed, he’s very very classy with it!

if you’re a big music person, jason will literally learn your favorite artist’s entire discography so you guys have another thing to talk about.

you guys also have a shared playlist of “your songs” and he’s so serious about it 😭 if jason hears a song that even remotely reminds him of you, he’s going to the ends of the earth to figure out what it’s called.

rip to anyone around him if shazam doesn’t work! he’s gonna send voice messages to your big group chat humming the tune, but he’s so tone deaf that no one knows the song…and his search history is just variations of “song that goes du du ooh du ooh du du ooh” a for effort though babes…

jason’s love languages are definitely acts of service and quality time. over the years and throughout the many battles he’s fought, he’s come to realize that all he wants to do when he comes home is just spend time with his loved ones.

after a busy day, you’ll come home to find your laundry folded, bed sheets washed & freshly made, along with a sweet little note from jason <3

your guys’ thing are writing notes to each other. considering his and your busy schedule, you’ll write and leave tiny notes around the house for each other to find. it’s one of the many reasons why jason gets up in the morning.

he loves coming home to you after a long day to simply melt in your arms. there’s just something so soothing about cuddling with you after a busy day.

it does not matter where you are, you guys could literally be cleaning the camp toilets and he’d still be able to find the fun in it. you’re his home, and he’d follow you wherever you go.

if you play sports, you already know he’s showing up to ALL your games. it doesn’t matter if it’s pouring rain or if it’s hours away, he’s absolutely determined to show his support. jason even makes posters with your jersey number and when you have big tournaments he’ll show up with posters of your face 😭 the refs are SO tired of jason help

i feel like if he really tried, jason would be a good cook.

one day you sent him a recipe you saw online saying you wanted to make it with him, but then he decided to make it himself to surprise you. and it was actually so good???

JASON IN A “KISS THE COOK” APRON OMFG. that’s what you got him for his birthday and every single time without fail, he’ll wear it when he’s cooking.

one of his hidden talents is that he’s super good at origami. he originally picked it up because he heard it was a good stress reliever, but now he also does it for you <3

he loves your reaction when he gives you little paper rings or an origami version of your favorite animal!

this guy DREAMS of domesticity. he’s always been the type to date to marry, and that’s just what he intends to do with you! even though you guys are still young, he’s been planning your proposal sfjfls

tell me why he already knows what kind of ring he wants to get you… omg.

he really wants to just settle down with you in new rome. but honestly, he’s willing to do anything as long as you’re at his side.

expect flowers from jason at least once a month! he even keeps one flower so he knows when it’s time to get you a new bouquet. and if he’s away, he’ll get one of his friends to deliver it!

i have this headcanon that the aphrodite cabin teams up with the hephaestus cabin to throw a really elaborate party, essentially like prom. anyways, jason would go all out for your promposal jfdsls i feel like he would either do a super funny poster/proposal like y’know that one guy who did that medieval promposal 😭 yeah well jason would do something like that but like...more roman... LMFAO him pulling up to your place in a chariot

or he would do something super super intricate and planned out…like a fancy picnic and then he’d have the fauns arrange fireflies to spell out “prom?” when it’s dark out.

ugh! jason grace the man that you are… <3 best bf ever,, i can confirm btw

#jason grace #jason grace x reader #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace fanfiction #jason grace fanfic #jason grace fluff #jason grace fic #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader #rick riordan #riordanverse #percy jackson fandom #percy jackson headcanon #percy jackson fic #percy jackson fanfiction

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moonstruckme · 11 months

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hi ml, wondering if you’d be able to do poly!marauders x hyperactive!reader who rlly gets the zoomies sometimes (me honestly) and out of nowhere she’s just super energetic and is like “hey sorry i’m gonna run to the store quickly for some stuff” and comes back and she’s got things to bake/cook and they’re all in bewilderment like ??? what is happeneing rn

Thanks for requesting lovely!

poly!maraders x hyperactive!reader ♡ 603 words

“I’m bored,” you say abruptly, knee bouncing so fast it’s shaking the coffee table.

Sirius raises his eyebrows at the unfinished card game between you, him, and James. “Well, that’s a bit insulting.”

You shake your head rapidly. “Not you, sorry. I just…” You gnaw at your lip, and Sirius and James exchange a bemused look. Remus had cut you off from the coffee pot hours ago, but you look like you’re about to start vibrating. “I don’t know, I need something else to do.”

James looks at you consideringly. “Do you wanna start a movie?”

You shake your head again, and you’ve got a look on your face like you’re trying to see inside your own brain.

“We could put on some music,” Sirius suggests.

“No.” You frown. “I feel like I need to climb a tree, or learn how to do a back handspring, or something.” You look at him. “You know?”

Sirius can’t say he does.

“Maybe you just need to take a lap around the block,” Remus says idly, flipping the page in his novel.

You jump to your feet. “I’ve got it,” you announce, and head for the door.

“Wait,” James says quickly, “wait, sweetheart, Remus was just joking.”

Remus looks up from his book, vaguely alarmed. “Yeah, dove, don’t actually run around the block. It’s dark out.”

“I won’t.” You wave them off, grabbing your bag and rushing out the door. You stop a few steps from the threshold, look down at your feet, and come back, slipping on a pair of shoes. “Be back soon!” you call, and before anyone can protest further, you’ve shut the door behind you.

Sirius looks between his boyfriends. “What the fuck was that about?”

Remus shrugs, going back to his book. “Dunno. If she’s not back in twenty minutes, would one of you let me know? We should probably call the police.”

Thankfully for them (and the police), you are back within twenty minutes. You and three bags of groceries.

“Angel.” James stands as you speed into the kitchen, heaving the bags onto the counter. “What’s going on with you? What are you doing?”

“I’m baking cookies.”

“It’s nearly midnight,” Remus says, at the same time as Sirius asks, “What kind of cookies?”

James has perked up at the mention of desserts, too. “Not sure,” you answer with a shrug. “I couldn’t decide between chocolate chip, earl grey, and these peppermint-and-chocolate ones I saw online, so I got ingredients for each and I’m gonna try them all.”

“Dove,” Remus tries again, as James prances happily into the kitchen to help you set up, “it’s nearly midnight. How late are you planning to stay up to finish all that?”

“Also not sure.” You take out three big mixing bowls and begin measuring out flour for each of them. “The dough for the earl grey cookies needs to be refrigerated for a few hours, so I figure I can always freeze the rest if I don’t want to keep going after that.”

Sirius raises his eyebrows, watching as you and James flit about the kitchen like busy hummingbirds. “Should we try and stop them?” he asks Remus quietly.

“No.” Remus is frowning, and Sirius can tell that, behind a layer of weariness, his amber eyes are calculating. “She won’t be able to keep this level of energy up for long. She’ll conk out soon.”

Sirius grins, leaning up to press a kiss to the taller boy’s cheek. “Alright, sunshine,” he says, joining you and James in the kitchen. He hops up onto the counter. “Tell me what I can do to help.”

1K notes · View notes

c-h-e-r-r-i-e-s · 7 months

Text

Virgin Nanami

You notice him one day walking into the book shop you work at. He’s browsing through all the high fantasy novels and though he’s got headphones on you can hear the music blasting.

You wonder how he can read or focus with it that loud. Chuckling to yourself you walk over and tap his shoulder asking if you can help him find anything.

That’s how you end up getting his number and bonding over music.

The first time you hang out he’s sitting on your bed in your college dorm.

“I bet you were super popular in high school”

“No I was a dork for sure”

“A fit guy like you? Stop being modest”

“No really, I was never as strong or smart or cool as my class mates. I went to a tiny school too”

“Well you’re cool to me” you say shyly, a faint dusting of pink on your cheeks.

“Thanks” he looks away with a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah”

And before he leaves after the hang out you lean over and kiss his lips. It’s not his first kiss but maybe the first one he feels deeply about. Your hand rests on his chest and his finds yours on the bed as you both lean in.

And the next time he sees you he’s so self conscious of his every move. Until you seemingly inch closer, until you’re nuzzled into his side.

Warmth taking over both of you. And .. has he bulked up? Maybe it’s just your brain but you can’t help it. He’s so polite and bulking up would be an insane choice for someone so sweet and interesting as him.

And you can’t help when your lips find each others again. Softly and slowly turning into a deep kiss that melts into you both pawing st each other and panting.

Until you stop and whisper into the crook of his neck that you’re a virgin. But he says “that’s okay.. so am I”

And you’re blushing but not ready to go further “maybe another time we can do this again? But I’m just not ready for that”

“That’s fine” he replies simply. As if waiting is all he would do if you asked. Forever.

One day when you’re just simply listening to music and sitting next to Nanami in your bed, head resting on his shoulder. His hand slides between your thighs and it’s over for you. You’d been contemplating why you were waiting since you were so head over heels for him.

So you open your thighs and his attention perks up. Humming, he turns to you and kisses your neck, nuzzling into you. His hand sliding up your neck and pulling you into a desperate kiss.

Your first time together is sloppy and quick. But it’s special and with the man you love.

Plus you guys have so much time to learn together.

#jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami x you #nanami fluff #kento nanami #crying I love him so much

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thehandmaidenofcreativity · 4 months

Text

The Man Who Talks to Himself and the Girl Who Listens

WC: 6.7k

Rating: 18+, fluff to smut

Comments: idol!Seungmin and female reader. This is my first fic.. hope you like it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

•

“That doesn’t even make sense…”

You wouldn’t have heard him if the song hadn’t just ended. For whatever reason, that little bit of muttering caught your interest. You hit pause before the next tune can fill your ears. He’s sitting just behind you. You’re tempted to sneak a peek at what he’s doing. You’re sure he came in alone, so it seems he’s talking to himself.

“Then again, confusion is a higher sense of consciousness...” He trails off.

What a brilliant way of thinking, you muse. He goes on outlining a plan of some sort, maybe for a novel or a play; it’s captivating. Unfortunately, he would stop thinking out loud at some points, but no matter how long the pause, you couldn’t turn your music back on and miss any of his magic. Because that’s what it felt like: magic. He was filling you with such wonder; you could burst.

After a while, he gets a phone call, though, and the show comes to an end. You hear him packing up his things; you watch him stride out of the cafe. Silly as it is, considering you don’t see his face, you think he looks handsome - tall, with broad shoulders and a pretty shade of reddish hair poking out from beneath a baseball cap.

The next day, you decide to return to the cafe. You tell yourself that it’s just a nice, low-key place to get work done and enjoy a few cups of tea, but in the back of your mind, you’re hoping the man will be there again. You arrive half an hour earlier than yesterday and sit at the same table, sipping on blueberry tea with your headphones in, laptop in front of you. Fifteen minutes in, you hear the bell on the door jingle. You try for nonchalance as you glance at the entrance. You hadn’t gotten a good look at him the day before, but you’re sure it’s the same man. To your delight, he brings his things to the table behind you before going to the counter. Despite the mask, you can tell your initial assessment was correct - he’s handsome. He has his hood up rather than a hat today, so you still don’t get the full effect of his hair, just see the slight waves of his bangs covering his forehead. His eyes are quite dark, but nice, and slightly downturned, reminding you of something or someone that you can’t place. How can someone look so good when most of their face is covered?

For the next few hours, you sit transfixed by the man, at times sitting stagnant just listening to him, your own work forgotten. Eventually, you both have to leave, but before you do, you stop by the barista. “Hey, this may be a weird question,” you try to sound as casual as possible. “But does that guy who was at the table behind me come in here often?”

“Yeah, he’s been in here most weekdays,” the girl responded. “But he probably has classes or something on Monday and Wednesday, cause I don’t usually see him then.”

“Cool, thanks.”

Odd as it feels, kind of stalking this man, you continue coming back to the cafe over the next couple weeks, only skipping those days when you’re sure that he won’t be there. At times, you even jot down questions that you’d want to ask him if you could, but you never speak to him. You always sit with your back to him, headphones in, pretending not to listen.

At the end of the week, he gets a phone call. As he heads outside to take it, you hear him say that he’ll be back on the road in about a week and feel a surge of panic for some reason. You realize that you can’t just be the girl who listens anymore.

You flip to the document that holds your questions for him and grab a notebook out of your bag. You quickly jot down the two most recent ones, furtively glancing at the door to check that he’s still on the phone. You can’t decide if you should write your email or your number; you almost can’t believe you’re doing this at all. You add to the top of the page “confusion may be a higher sense of consciousness, but I’m so curious” and write your email to the bottom. One more look at the door tells you that now’s your chance; you quickly set the note in front of his coffee.

While you were somehow brave enough to leave the note, you're certainly not brave enough to hear him read it. You hurriedly collect your things and head for the door. His call must’ve just ended; he opens the door and holds it, nodding at you. You hope your blush isn’t obvious, but even if it is, he must get that all the time. He’d left his mask off when he went outside. He is one of the most handsome men you’ve ever not-actually met. He has a strong, straight nose, and his face is oval shaped - a good mix of masculine and boyish. You kind of hate that he’s giving you that obviously fake, pursed, polite smile instead of a real one, but why wouldn’t he; you’re giving him the same one.

The next night when the notification sounds, you don’t think much of it. You almost decide not to check your email before bed, but something is nudging at the back of your mind. You click into it and see the subject line: Allow me to bring some clarity. You’re a little stunned that he actually wrote you, because it had to be him; who else would it be?

His answers are short, a little cryptic. But he told you that he’s writing music. You have the smallest insight into his head, and you love it. What you aren’t sure about is how you feel about the fact that he clearly knows who you are. Well. Maybe not clearly. He guessed that you’re you, another regular, or the waitress. He also wanted to know if you have more questions. He signed off as ‘Thinking Out Loud’ rather than giving his name. You wonder if you should avoid showing just how long you’ve been stalking him, but you are curious. It’s time to go big or go home. You thank him for his email and copy over the rest of your ‘Questions and Thoughts’ doc. You also consider fessing up, telling him who you are. But you could be mysterious, too. Ultimately, you sign off as ‘the Listener.’

The night passes, then the next day. It’s Monday, so you don’t go to the cafe. The anticipation is killing you. You decide that if he doesn’t respond before the night is over, you just won’t go back. Maybe that’s cowardly, but it would be mortifying. He’d obviously been freaked out by how long you’ve been listening to him. So much for that hobby and unraveling the mystery of Mr. Thinking Out Loud.

The next morning, you see that you received an email around 4 am. He had replied after all. He didn’t answer any questions, though. It simply read: Same time at the cafe today? Smiling like a fool, you get ready for the day and try not to freak out about the invitation. It was an invitation, wasn’t it? You take a little extra care with your appearance - applying a subtle lip stain, a little eyeliner, and mascara.

As usual, you arrive before him. You go back and forth about sitting at ‘your’ table or his. It is possible that he hadn’t been inviting you to truly interact with him. You sit at your own table and somehow manage to focus on your work for a while. You figure you have a bit of time before he arrives, so you head to the restroom. As you’re walking back toward your table, you freeze.

The guy.

He’s sitting there.

At your table.

The seat across from yours.

You force yourself to move. He looks up as you draw near and offers you a small, welcoming smile. And you’d thought he couldn’t get any cuter. You sit as the waitress stops by to drop off his coffee and a fresh tea for you. She winks at you as she walks away.

“I hope you don’t mind; I hear you like the blueberry.” He smiles again and wow. It’s incredible. He extends his hand. “My listener, I presume?”

“You caught me,” you laugh awkwardly, shaking his hand. “I’m sorry if it was weird of me. You just seem so… interesting.”

There’s no way he doesn’t see your blush this time. The corner of his mouth quirks back up. Then he just takes a sip of his coffee and starts talking. You don’t even need to put your headphones on, because this time, he’s talking to you.

•

You both stay longer than usual. Two more rounds of drinks and a couple shared pastries later, you learn that he’s a musician and trying to write a connected story within an album, something he’s never done on his own before. He also, ears reddening, admits to not realizing he talks quite so much while he’s working. He answers your questions, even asks for your feedback and compliments you on your insights. You’ve always loved watching people talk about their passions, and today is no different. He lights up when he talks, practically glowing. If you thought his first smile was nice, then this full, joyful smile is fantastic. And when he laughs? It makes your heart flutter. He’s beautiful.

All too soon, he says that he needs to head out to his next schedule. You finally notice the time, and while you know you should leave, too, you’re sad that this is over. “Same time on Thursday?” you ask meekly.

He smiles at you. You try not to hold your breath. “Sounds good.” He gathers the last of his things, stands to leave, and gives a small wave. “It was great talking to you, Listener.”

You almost tell him your name or ask his, but he’s already walking away.

By the time Thursday rolls around, you’re nearly vibrating with excitement. How can one coffee date, if you can even call it that, get you so eager to meet with a man you barely know? Though in a way you’ve been getting to know him for a while, indirectly. Plus, music can be a very personal expression of one’s self, and that’s clearly his intention considering your first conversation. Two and a half hours before it’s time to leave, however, your light dims.

The subject line of the email reads: ‘Scheduling Conflict.’ He addresses it to ‘My Listener.” My listener. You’re beaming and feel incredibly silly about it. Your smile falls again, though, as you read the rest of the email. He lets you know that he won’t be at the cafe today, and he didn’t want you to show up and think he stood you up. He thinks that he’ll be able to meet you tomorrow, but will let you know if things change. Things at work are picking up for him, it seems. You try not to be too disappointed and resolve to be much more chill about the situation tomorrow; it’s literally just coffee with an attractive man who seems very intelligent and kind. Right.

So with take two on Friday, you stay busy and try not to think too much about him. Still, you can’t help being excited; you practically bounce into the cafe. He’s not here yet, but he didn’t email today, so you’re optimistic. Despite already brimming with nervous energy, you decide to have a latte today. You settle in with it at your table when the bell on the door rings. He’s sporting a black bucket hat today; it’s a great look.

“Coffee today, huh?” He takes his mask off as he sits, offering that brilliant smile. “What’s your order?”

“Oh, it’s a blonde, breve vanilla latte,” you smile back but notice that he doesn’t have his customary bag of writing materials. Your smile fades a little.

He grimaces a bit. “Sounds too sweet and milky.” He signals to the waitress and she brings him his customary americano without him even needing to order it. “So there’s been a little change in plan again today. I can’t stay too long, but I didn’t want to cancel on you again.”

It’s sweet that he made time for you, but you are disappointed. You remember overhearing him saying he’d be on the road next week, so who knows how long it'll be before you might see him again. If you’ll see him again at all. But you said you’d be chill today, so chill you will be! You talk more about the concept of his album, asking and answering questions and offering suggestions and compliments. All too soon, your cups are empty.

He checks his phone and gives a wry smile. “I need to head out… See you around.” As he stands and moves to leave, he looks back at you thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t be interested in getting a drink with me tonight, would you?”

You hope your smile isn’t too wide. “I’d love to, do you have somewhere in mind?”

He jots down an address and his number on the back of his receipt. “Great. I’ll see you at 9? Just call me when you get there, I’ll meet you out front.” He gives you one last smile before he puts on his mask and heads for the door. Across the bottom of the slip, he’d also written his name. Seungmin.

•

You consider trying to look him up before your date. It is a date this time for sure, right? You hadn’t told any friends about him yet, ‘cause you still felt a little like a stalker, but you need help. When Hana arrives at your apartment, you immediately spill the entire story.

“You never took any pictures of him?” She laughs. “What kind of third-rate stalker are you?”

“Hey! I tried my best not to be creepy… or any creepier than I was already being.” You get out two tops and a dress. “Okay, so I don’t wanna seem like I’m trying too hard, but I wanna look good. What do you think?”

She considers your options. “I’d go with the lilac. It gives you a decent amount of cleavage without being too slutty. What bottoms are you thinking?”

You pull out a pair of dark wash jeggings and black wide-legged pants. “Is it too much flowy or do the black ones work?” Ultimately you decide on the jeggings - as Hana said, they do much more for your ass. She consults on your hairstyle and make-up choices, and by the time you’re ready, your nerves have skyrocketed. “Am I crazy for doing this? Like he seems really nice, but I don’t know anything about him. And he seems young.”

“Oh, you stop that!” Hana rolls her eyes at you. “It’s been forever since you went out with someone. And so what if he’s a little young! Might be a good change of pace; he’ll have lots of energy.” She winks at you and laughs. She might be right. You hope so. Then, just like that, it’s time to head out. As you part ways, Hana offers a few last words of encouragement, “You’ll be fine! Just relax and have fun. If it sucks, it sucks, and you never have to see him again. But if it’s great, it might be the start of a fun adventure!”

You’re nearly to the bar, so you pull up his contact. Seungmin. Not for the first time, you wish he’d given you his last name as well. You might’ve been able to cyber-stalk him as well.

He answers on the second ring. He tells you he’ll be out front, and as you near the bar, you see him step out onto the sidewalk. He asks if you’re close, and you speed up a little. You tell him you are, then hang up; he looks down at his phone, head cocked to the side, clearly confused. You tap him on the shoulder and watch as his expression changes. Even with his mask on, you can tell when his smile lands. You meet it with one of your own.

“Shall we?” Seungmin offers his arm like a gentleman leading a lady out onto the ballroom floor. Once inside, you follow him past the bar and out the back door into an alley. Before you can question him, he points over to the right. A couple meters away, you spot a black door sporting red flourishes. He knocks out a slightly complicated rhythm, and one of the red designs opens to reveal a pair of eyes.

It’s a speakeasy. He brought you to a speakeasy. You didn’t even know that they had speakeasies anymore, though you suppose that’s the point. How does he know about it? He gives the password - flufflebuzz - and you make your way inside. It’s as you’d expect, a bit dark with a masculine, leather-based design scheme. There are small groups gathered around cocktail tables or in the booths lining the walls. Light jazz music floats through the space, covering conversations but not loud enough to make it difficult to have one.

Seungmin leads you to a booth in the back, saluting the bartender on his way. Once you’re settled, he takes off his mask and lets out a little sigh. “I hope this is alright; I know it’s a little different.”

You realize that he’s nervous, which calms you down a little bit. “This is so cool,” you smile at him, gesturing to the bar. “I’ve never been anywhere like this! How did you find it?”

“Oh, some people I work with introduced me to it,” he blushes as he tells you. Another little mystery. “Most people in here work in my industry.” As you turn to take a look around, the waitress arrives with two drinks in hand. They’re yellowish with a creamy foam on top. Seungmin thanks her before you can say that you haven’t ordered yet. “It’s a tradition here, your first drink is up to the bartender, but if you don’t like it, don’t feel like you have to drink it.”

“Well, that’s fun!” You give the drink a sniff. It smells fruity, though you expected that. You can’t figure out what its base is, though. You dip your pinky in a little bit. If Seungmin notices, he doesn’t comment on it. Your nail color doesn’t change, so you know it’s safe to drink. You pick up your glass and Seungmin clinks his to yours. You take a tentative sip. It’s good, a mix of sweet and sour. Seungmin makes a face, though. You laugh. “Not quite your style?”

“And he knows that,” Seungmin smiles at you before catching the bartender’s eye and flipping him off. They both laugh, and the bartender heads over, beer in hand.

“Not about the passionfruit?” The bartender slides the fresh drink in front of him. Seungmin just narrows his eyes at him. “I know, too sweet. I had to try, though. Now we’re being rude. Don’t wanna scare off your friend here. I suppose you’re really not a fan, huh?” He directs the question to you.

“Oh no, I love passionfruit. I think this is great.” You give him a polite smile, but they share an odd look and laugh.

The bartender picks up Seungmin’s discarded drink and takes a sip. “Happy to hear it. Could be good for you, Min. You guys have a good night.” With that, he gives a quick wink and walks off, joining another table rather than going back behind the bar where you see another bartender has materialized. You’re more than a little confused.

“I’m sorry about that. Chan Hyung is…” Seungmin looks thoughtfully in the direction Chan went. “A little over-protective. He just wanted to see that you weren’t… That you seemed alright. Sorry, I know that’s vague.”

“It’s fine,” you offer. Though you are still a little lost, you can understand looking out for a friend. “So is he not actually a bartender, or…?”

Seungmin laughs again. Now that you’re alone, you’re able to appreciate the sound of it a bit more. “No, not really. We’re just friends with him, and every now and then Chan likes to try his hand at making drinks somewhere that has a greater variety of ingredients. It’s for the best that they let him; the kitchen would be even more of a mess if he got stuff to make drinks at home. Anyway, enough about him, I wanna learn more about you.”

You blush a little at that and start answering the usual ‘get to know you’ type questions. You try to turn them back to him, but he deflects or quickly asks you follow-ups most of the time. He remains a bit of a mystery. You learn that he works with Chan, but doesn’t live with him - he has other roommates over at the other table, though; he has an older sister, which prompts a question that he answers easily for once.

“I’m 23,” he looks down at his drink, and you can just barely see his ears reddening in the dim light. “Not too young, I hope?” Though you haven’t explicitly told him your age, he clearly recognizes that you’re older than him. Despite not getting too many personal details, you are really starting to like him. And you’re pretty sure that confirms that he likes you, too.

“Not too young at all,” you smile. When your phone buzzes for the fourth time, he tells you to check it and heads for the restroom, stopping at Chan’s table on his way. He almost immediately erupts in the most endearing laugh with the lot of them. He looks so at ease with his friends, making you realize that he has seemed a bit nervous with you.

You look down at your phone to see multiple texts from Hana asking how it’s going, where you are, if you need rescuing. You let her know that you’re fine, having fun, and that you were right about him being younger. She immediately responds, asking if you’re planning on “closing the deal tonight then?” with a wink. At that, you put your phone away and look up to see that Seungmin's on his way back. The rest of the date goes on smoothly, moving from personal details to passions and interests; Seungmin answers a bit more freely now, his face lighting up the way it did in the cafe.

Before you know it, a waitress stops by to let you know it’s nearly time for last call. You’re both a bit surprised. “Wow, it’s gotten late fast,” Seungmin rubs at the back of his neck, looking down and biting that perfect lower lip. Hana’s question earlier pops into your mind and now you’re blushing, too. “Would it be too corny if I said I didn’t want the night to end?”

It’s a wonder you can suppress the gigantic smile you know is trying to burst out. “Not at all, I’m having a great time, too.” You consider the table of his friends and roommates over at the other table. Seungmin probably won’t want to ask you to go back to him apparent with so many others potentially being there. You hope you sound casual. “We could always go somewhere else for a bit. Take a walk or have a nightcap at my place or something.”

His eyes meet yours again as he nods, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

•

The walk back to your apartment is a little quieter than you expected. The closer you get, the more nerves build up. After a few minutes, his hand brushes yours a couple times before he interlocks his fingers with yours. You don’t try too hard to suppress your smile when you see his. As you enter, you gesture to the couch then you head toward the kitchen, running through the rest of the place in your mind, trying to remember if you may have left anything embarrassing out. “What can I get you? Another beer?”

“Actually, I was thinking it might be time to switch to coffee if you have any,” he ventures; he follows you to the kitchen and clearly notices your lack of coffee machine.

You grimace slightly. “I know it’s not very good, but I think I have some leftover instant?” His face tells you that it sounds as bad as you feared it might. “Sorry, I’m more of a tea drinker.”

“Blueberry?” He jokes, or at least you think it’s a joke. He’s lost some of the joviality he had at the bar, becoming a little harder to read. “I like to have tea now and then. Could I have something black?”

He agrees to try some lady grey and asks to look around while you put the kettle on. By the time you come out with your mugs, he’s sitting on the couch. He looks much more uncomfortable now. You don’t know if you should be offering to turn on the TV or some music; it’s been so long since you’ve had a date over. What will make things less awkward?

Luckily he saves you from having to decide; he asks if he can show you a music video. You pull up youtube on your TV and hand him the remote. The video he pulls up is titled ‘Stray Kids "특(S-Class)" M/V’ and asks, “I’m guessing you’ve never heard of them?” When you shake your head no, he turns to face you more fully. “How do you feel about how tonight went? Would you be interested in seeing me again?”

This feels abrupt, and he still looks so nervous. You give him a smile. “Tonight has been wonderful, and I’d love to go out again.” You expect him to relax a little, but if anything he tenses up a bit more.

“Me too. I just… need to tell you something first.” Instead of saying whatever it is, he hits play on the video. You consider his profile, as he’s actively not looking at you. Your head snaps to the TV when the voice starts singing. You suppose if it’s this important to him, you might as well watch. For a second you think you recognize the guys in the group, but you’re not sure why. Around 30 seconds in, you know that you’re looking at Seungmin’s friend Chan on the screen. You shoot him a questioning look, but he’s still focused on the video. About 10 more seconds and you understand why he’s so nervous. Your jaw drops. This time when you look at him, he pauses the video.

He’s still not looking at you when he speaks, suddenly very interested in his tea. “I would really like to see you again. To get to know you better.” He glances up at you, finally, then nods back at the TV. “But it can be really hard to do that when that’s your job.”

You really don’t know what to say. The best you can come up with is, “You sing so well.” Your stupidity breaks the tension a bit; he laughs then you do. “Sorry, I don’t know what to think right now. I know you said you like K-pop at the bar, I just didn’t realize that you, like, are K-pop. Wow. That’s really awesome.”

He laughs again. “Well, that’s one way to put it. I know I just kinda dropped a bomb on you. I can go so you can have time to think about it.”

Your “no” probably comes a little too quickly. “You haven’t finished your tea... Plus, I don’t want you to leave. I’m not sure I even know what to consider about it.”

He gives you a small smile before taking a sip from his mug. “Well, there are a few things to think about. I’m not allowed to date publicly. So if we continued to see each other, it would have to be a secret. And I travel a lot. I’m usually a lot busier; these last few weeks we’ve been on a short break. It would be hard to see each other too often.”

It does sound difficult. Maybe too difficult to consider with someone you just met. But you haven’t connected with someone like this in a long time. He seems like a great guy, he wants to keep seeing you, and he’s so, so handsome. His gaze is on his hands, giving you the opportunity to study his face without feeling self conscious. As your eyes trace his features, you imagine never getting to listen to him write music again, never getting to watch his face light up as he answers one of your questions about it, never hearing him laugh again. As he pulls that beautiful bottom lip between his teeth and raises his head to meet your eyes again, you know what you want. In the morning, this will probably all seem a bit crazier, but for now… you place your hand on his. You lean in and gently press a kiss to his lips.

You pull back and look into his eyes. Time stops for just a moment as you look at each other. You can see the desire in his stare; it matches your own. Then his hands are cupping your face and he’s kissing you again. His calluses surprise you - you can feel the roughness of them as one hand trails its way down your body and the other snakes back to grip your neck. As his tongue brushes your lip, your mouth opens a bit more in invitation; he accepts, deepening the kiss, his tongue mingling with yours. His hands trace your curves before pulling you closer and you wrap your arms around him. Each movement is insistent, bordering on frantic, as if you can’t get enough of each other. You want to dive into him. He clearly feels the same.

One moment he’s gripping your thigh and the next you’re straddling him, grinding against his growing erection, while his fingers dig into your ass. You pull back and look at him. You’re both breathing heavily. His hands are on your hips now, thumbs rubbing small circles. Your hands are on his shoulders, coasting down to rest on his biceps.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to -” he starts, but you cut him off.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you smile at him. “Plus, I did kiss you first.”

“I meant to give you more time to think about all this.” He shakes his head slightly. “I don’t want you to regret anything.”

You give him another quick kiss. “I don’t think I will, regardless of where we go from here. And I do want to see you again. I’ve really enjoyed the time we’ve spent together. So for now, do you think we can just see how this goes?”

He considers you for a moment, those dark eyes boring into yours. He looks so serious, you can’t guess what he’s thinking. Then the corner of his mouth quirks up. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You give him a smile of your own and lean in for another kiss. You sigh into his mouth as his hands slide under your shirt. Your hands find their way into his hair as he grips your waist tightly before pushing your shirt up. You break the kiss to let him take it off, and he shakes his head again before cocking it to the right as he studies you.The look he’s giving you makes you think of a puppy. It’s so adorable and somehow only adds to his sexiness. “You’re really beautiful, noona.” He gives your waist another squeeze as he says it, but his grin starts to falter. “Are you sure about this?”

Your face heats a little at the honorific. Your gaze wanders from his face, down to your seat on his lap, and back up. You roll your hips, savoring the feel of his hard length beneath you. “I’m sure.”

With a small groan, he shocks you by standing up and guiding you to wrap your legs around his thin waist. Your apartment isn’t huge, and he already took a look around, so he knows just where to go. In seconds, you’re on your bed with his weight on top of you. He grinds his hips into yours as he takes your mouth again.

In a flurry of lips and tongues and teeth, you pull at his shirt, needing to touch his skin. He pulls back long enough to pull it over his head, then his lips find your neck while your hands explore his bare back. You should worry about getting a hickey, but all you can think of is how each suck and bite at your neck sends a burst of fire through your body.

A thought strikes you, “I’m - ah - I’m, I’m clean, by the way.”

Seungmin grins, relishing the fact that he’s made it difficult for you to utter a simple sentence. “I am, too.” With that, his lips move south, nipping at the tops of your breasts before he pulls one of the cups down, locking his mouth onto your nipple. He sucks, tongue flicking and circling, while his hands make their way underneath you in an attempt to remove your bra. You arch into his touch, giving him room to work. Once your bra is off, he moves immediately to work on your leggings.

Just like that, you’re fully bared to him, and he finally slows down. He’s kneeling between your legs, just taking you in. You take the opportunity to study him a bit as well. He’s obviously got some muscle, but he’s not built - it fits him. His shoulders are broad, kind of like a swimmer’s. Your gaze drifts down to the considerable bulge in his pants, and you really can’t wait to see the rest of him. Before you can sit up to continue undressing him, he’s back on you. He kisses his way from your lips to your chest, down your stomach, all the while murmuring how beautiful you look, how sexy you are. He nibbles at your inner thigh, eyes on yours.

“Is this okay?” At this point, it feels a little like a silly question, but those puppy dog eyes are back, so you can’t tease him about it.

“Yes, are you–”

Yes was all he needed to hear. The eager thing dives right in, lapping at your clit with a flat tongue before swirling it in circles. He’s barely begun and you’re already starting to squirm, his strong grip on your thighs heightening the experience. You can’t help but let out a small moan. Your hands move into his hair of their own accord. As he laps at your core, pushing you towards your release, your grip tightens.

He pulls back, and you suppress a whimper. He licks his lips and gives you a heart-melting smile. “Does hair pulling mean I’m doing well or do I need to change tactics?” His thumb makes its way to your clit, doing lazy circles as he asks.

It takes you two tries to answer. “Ye-yes, hair pulling means it’s good. Do you mind it?”

His grin widens. “Pull away.” He’s sucking and licking now, driving you wild. You have fistfuls of his hair and, despite his permission, are fighting not to pull. Then he inserts a finger into you, another quickly follows. Your grip tightens again, you let out a gasp, and you can feel his smile. His fingers are curling, massaging into just the right spot as he sucks at your clit again. When you thrust up to meet his mouth, his other arm shifts across your hips and pushes them back down. Your head spins as he adds a third finger. He’s not letting up, pushing you into the stratosphere. An endless stream of moans and gasps spill from your lips and a tear trickles down the side of your face.

“Oh.. Min,” you cry as you come. He slows but doesn’t stop as your body tenses and shakes, clenching around his fingers. As the trembling subsides, he withdraws his fingers and climbs his way back up your body, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses. He licks his lips again, then wipes his dripping chin before licking his fingers.

“You taste good.” And you can taste yourself as his lips find yours again. “I like when you call me Min.”

“Please,” your hand finds his bulge, pulling at him while the other starts to pull at his waistband. You’re not usually so needy, but your orgasm has only made you want him more. “Please, I need you inside me.”

His eyes darken at that. You almost wonder if you might’ve put him off with your begging as he pushes up off the bed. He keeps his eyes on yours for a moment then starts unbuttoning his pants. “Say it again.”

“Please,” you sit up to take over, freeing his length with a tiny gasp. You could tell he was big before, but seeing it is another story. An ache pulses in your core at the thought of him filling you up. “I need you, Min.”

There’s been a shift in him. He’s not moving as frantically, the look on his face is devastating - so serious, his eyes full of pure desire. He slowly positions himself back between your legs, a hand on your chest, slowly pushing you down onto your back again. He drags the head of his cock through your folds before rubbing it on your clit then settling it back at your entrance. He leans down, one hand posted next to your head, while the other holds himself steady, and his lips caress yours. He pulls back slightly, forehead on yours, gaze boring into you.

You know what he wants. “Fuck me, Seungmin, please.”

His eyes are still locked on yours as his body shifts, pushing into you slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. Your breath hitches and a soft moan escapes your lips. That flips his switch. His lips move roughly against yours as he starts to thrust. He quickly falls into a rhythm, and now it’s his hand fisting into your hair. You break the kiss so that you can suck at his neck. He sighs, but backs out of your reach. “I can’t, ah, I can’t have any visible marks.” You pull his mouth back to yours, your other hand grasping at his back. Seungmin slips a hand between you, his thumb finding your clit, and you feel yourself winding up again. As you meet each of his thrusts, you can’t control the mewling gasps coming out of your mouth. Soon you’re moaning his name again, and he’s breathing heavily into the crook of your neck. His movements become more erratic as you both approach your limits. You squeeze around him as you come again, and it sets him off at a faster pace.

“I’m going to, ah, I’m going to come,” he groans. “What do I, ah, where do I…” he straightens as he pulls out and you scramble to sit up and grab at him. He lets you take over pumping him while you quickly resituate yourself. You get your mouth around him and can barely move before his hand is back in your hair, and the other grips your shoulder tightly. You can tell he’s holding back to let you stay in control as you try to swallow him down without gagging (too much). Your name falls from his lips as he finishes; his hold on you loosens, and you both relax back. His hands move to cup your face gently, brushing away the tears you hadn’t noticed escaping. “Are you alright?”

You smile up at him, resting your hands on his thighs. “I’m fine. More than fine. You’re just a little big.”

He chuckles before ghosting a kiss over your lips. “As long as I didn’t hurt you.” He lays down then, pulling you with him. With your head on his chest, his hand tracing circles on your back, you start to drift off.

•

#kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin #seungmin x you #seungmin x reader #skz seungmin #skz fluff #skz smut #skz x reader #skz fanfic #seungmin

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nakaharaass · 1 year

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Losing your virginity with Itachi headcanons

a/n: last month i started watching Shippuden for the first time (I read almost all the manga like ten years ago), and I've fallen again in the Itachi phase I went through back then. Also, English is not my mother tongue, so there might be spelling or grammar mistakes, or weird expressions. Likes and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

Characters: Itachi Uchiha.

Genre: nsfw, a bit fluff.

Warnings: fem!reader, penetration, oral sex (fem receiving). (Tell me if I should add something else).

Wordcount: 1.1k

You knew each other since you were kids. At first you were friends, but your relationship evolved, and now you’re lovers.

I can’t imagine Itachi having sporadic encounters. I see him as somebody who wants the whole relationship experience. If you want his body, you must accept him as your boyfriend.

That being said, your first time was also his first time.

Up until now, you have made out with each other, but things have never gone any further.

It was you who proposed doing something more. Itachi is very respectful, and he didn’t want to pressure you, so he had never said anything before

In the middle of your make out session, you wanted to do more, and he eagerly agreed.

Itachi keeps things simple on your first time: missionary style in a bed. There will be more times to experiment, now he wants to play safe. Plus, he thinks it’s a pretty intimate position, that allows you to look at each other. He doesn’t want to miss any of your reactions.

No doubts that while he was in Anbu, Kakashi lent him some of his erotic novels. That’s all his previous knowledge.

Lots of kissing while you undress each other. Itachi is going to take his sweet time admiring every inch of your body. And he constantly compliments you, saying how beautiful you are.

He’s completely selfless in bed, and he cares more about you own pleasure than his own. And this is a special occasion, so he’ll worship you as you deserve.

I picture him as a boob guy, so he’s going to pay a considerable amount of attention to each one. He massages one, rubbing the nipple, while he sucks and kisses the other one, slightly biting your other nipple.

Then he continues going down your body, and he eats you until you cum at least twice. He wants you to get really wet for what’s coming later.

As it’s his first time, his skills may not be the best yet. But being a ninja, he has full knowledge of the human body, and he definitely knows where the clit is.

He’s also very intuitive, and he will pay attention to all your reactions, and see what works out and what doesn’t.

While he’s eating you, he loves looking up at you and see your boobs, and your facial expressions of pleasure.

Please, pull his hair. It turns him on.

Then he introduces two fingers and starts carefully stretching you a little.

I didn’t say it before, but he’s consent king. Every time he’s doing something different, he’s asking you if you’re comfortable or if you want to stop.

No, but really, you may even think that he’s asking you too many times.

“Please, stop talking, and do something else with your tongue.”

jk, but if you say something like that, while grabbing his hair and guiding him back to your pussy, he will get incredibly turned on.

Please, moan his name, it’s music to his ears. It also boosts his ego thinking that he’s the one making you say such lewd noises.

He has to force himself to stop eating you. He could do it all day because you taste sooo good. He has found his new favourite dessert.

Once he’s done with you down there, he gets ready to get inside you.

He asks you once more if you want to continue.

When you agree, he slips his dick along your slit, before getting slowly inside you. At the same time, he incessantly kisses your lips and your neck, while massaging your boobs. He understands that getting used to his size may be a bit uncomfortable for you, so he wants you to be as excited as possible.

Talking about size, his girth is average, but it’s a bit longer (16.5 – 17cm), with the head slightly curved upwards. Perfect to hit all the right spots.

Once he gets fully in you, he stops so you get used to the new feeling. He continues kissing you, with brief pauses to praise you, and tell you how much of a good job you’re doing. He’s very vocal praising you.

When you move your hips wanting more, he gets the hint, and he starts a slow but constant pace.

Itachi’s on cloud nine. He can’t believe how good it feels to be inside you, how well your walls adapt to him. But he has to use every ounce of self-control to not go any faster. The last thing he wants is to hurt you.

More kisses all over your upper body. He will leave hickeys too.

He wants to hear you moaning his name.

Bonus points if you pull his hair or scratch his back.

Dirty talk too. While he thrusts into you, and rubs your nipple, he whispers in your ear how much of a good girl you are, with that soft and low voice of his.

He smirks if he notices that his voice increases your arousal.

He pays attention to your expression when he thrusts into you. When he notices that spot that makes you moan his name even louder, he makes it his mission to hit it constantly.

When you’re close, he rubs your clit to increase your pleasure.

He won’t cum until you do it first.

He doesn’t moan much during sex, but he lets a low one escape when he’s done.

When you two are done, he will slowly pull out of you. It’s your first time, so he’s being extremely nice. There will be more times in the future to overstimulate you (this boy is already planning things 🤭).

King of aftercare (is there anything he’s not king of?)

Lots of kissing and cuddling. It’s ok if you doze off a bit, but he won’t let you fell asleep. At least you have to get up and pee. He read that it’s healthier to do it after having sex, so you can’t refuse.

He also brings you water, and some snacks if you tell him that you’re feeling hungry. He starts preparing a hot bath for you two.

He cleans you up thoroughly before you get into the bath (think about Japanese baths), and he uses this as an excuse to caress and massage again every inch of your body. He will melt if you do the same to him (poor baby is touch starved 🥺) (I promise to write something where reader worships him because he deserves it).

You take a long bath. He embraces you, and he lovingly caresses your tummy, while you draw circles on his forearms.

Itachi is on seventh heaven. He wishes this moment to last forever.

You get out when the water starts to cool. You go to bed and cuddle until you fall asleep.

#itachi uchiha #itachi x reader #itachi uchiha x reader #itachi uchiha headcanons #itachi smut #itachi x fem!reader #itachi uchiha x fem!reader #itachi x y/n #itachi headcanons #uchiha smut #i really want to write a full scenario out of this

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noradegrantz · 5 months

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Closer (2004)

writer! Anakin x fem! reader

Anakin has Dan Woolf’s role in the fanfic and the reader has Alice Ayres’s role. It’s a pretty small fic cause I didn’t wanna write as many things as the movie <\3

Plus, I made it a more romantic and happy fic! I really hope that all of you will enjoy this! 💌

warnings: sexual content, implied smut, sex, established relationship

During a busy morning in London, writer Anakin meets a beautiful American woman after she is hit by a car, not used to the direction of traffic in England. On their walk back from the hospital, they stop by Postman's Park. Anakin asks her name, which she gives as ‘her name’. They soon become lovers.

One year later, Anakin has written a novel based on his lover’s life.

He truly loves you so much, the novel is full of stuff about you. How much he adores you, the things he likes about you, his relationship and daily life with you too. You worked at a local café in the mornings and as a stripper during nighttime. Who would have thought that a writer and a stripper would be such a match?

To him you were pure drug. His muse. His soul. Tormenting him. Your body, your eyes, your lips your tits, your thighs. Everything made him crave you more and more day by day.

On the weekends, when you were usually finishing from work before 2am, he drove you back home. After arriving home from the strip club, he bathed you slowly, touching all the right spots in the process, washed your hair throughly and lit candles to make a more romantic atmosphere.

Then, he made love to you. After wiping your naked body down with a towel, he laid you down on the bed and towered over you.

He entered you with such a delicacy and care. Pounding slowly while muffled moans left your cherry pink lips..

Oh, how much he loves those moans. They are like music in his ears. Knowing that even though you work in a strip club, none of these men get to put their filthy hands on you. Only him. He gets to undress you. He gets to touch you, to fuck you. Not anyone else. Him. Only Anakin. Even if you are a stripper you are so sensitive. You were a virgin before you met him. He has taught you everything. Positions, how to please him and how to please yourself as well. He always started off slowly and with care. Muttering sweet nothings in your ear.

“You’re taking me so well my love…”

“That’s it darling…I know that you can handle it”

He simply, can’t take his eyes off of you

and your angelic form.

You are an angel, that tastes like heaven.

#anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #clay beresford #hayden christensen #coquette #hayden christensen x reader #sam monroe #lana del rey #star wars anakin #star wars #alice ayres #closer 2004 #closer #natalie portman

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jpnriikicore · 1 year

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title: lover's rock

word count: 651

paring: jack champion x fem!reader

quietly singing to the familiar song 'lover's rock' by 'tv girl' that currently played on your record player. standing in front of the mirror to clasp your necklace on, but struggling to do so. through the reflection of the mirror you see jack climbing through your bedroom window. shutting your noisy window halfway as quietly as possible. as he looks through the collection of your records. he recites the dialogue of the song. you had introduce him to this song on your first date.

"now, how many men have you kissed?"

"very few."

"but you offered me a kiss. why?"

"such a foolish reason, I'm afraid. I just wanted to kiss you."

“pretty boy, you can’t stay here very long i have to leave in a few minutes.” you said, as he blushes at the nickname. you had called him that a thousand times, but he never gotten used to it. the endearing nickname has always left him a flustered mess. he looks over at you and takes notice in your struggle with your necklace. the butterfly necklace he gave you on your birthday last year. he walked over to you and gentle removes your hands away from the necklace replacing with his to help you.

“that’s fine, i just really wanted to see you.” he said, giving you a quick kiss on the apples of your cheek as the butterfly necklace falls into place. he wraps his arms around your waist resting his head on top of your shoulder. he takes in your appearance your wearing his favorite dress. it’s white and lacy along with a cozy white cardigan. the record skips just as his heart does.

he grabs your hand spinning you around to be face to face. he places a quick kiss your forehead. a soft smile appears on yours lips, as you wrap your arms around his neck playing with the ends of his curls, as his hands found a place on your waist. he pulls you in closer as he leans down to kiss you. turning your head to deepen the kiss. slowly walking backwards until your back hit the wall.

you pull apart as he brings you to your bed. he sits on the edge as you sit on his lap with your legs on either side of his. you lean over him to reach for a romance novel you’ve been reading recently. he could smell your flowery perfume. it was like as if you were trying to tease him. his hand finds it way to cradle the side of your face rubbing the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone. you lean into his touch bringing his hand up to your lips to press a gentle kiss on his palm.

"how about you just stay here?" he mumbled against your lips.

"i love to pretty boy, but i-"

“y/n, we need to go!” your guardian yells. startling you, you both pull away staring at your bedroom door that’s decorated with posters of your favorite bands. the heavy footsteps of your guardian become louder as adrenaline and anxiety fills you. rushing and pushing him gently towards your bedroom window as he quickly climbs out your window, but exchange one last quick kiss.

"i’ll call you once i get back home." you whispered, and in response he said okay. you shut your window completely and lock it quickly speed walking over to your mirror to fix yourself.

“y/n, you ready?” your guardian asked, as they open your bedroom door.

“yep, just let me turn off the music.” you said, smiling at them. you pull the cueing lever up to lift the tonearm off the record putting the vinyl record back into it’s sleeve.

"y/n, you really shouldn’t leave your window shade open it’s night." your guardian pointed out, as you muttered a sorry before closing the window shade.

that was a close call.

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wheneverfeasible · 27 days

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🧠 🪱 WIGGLY WEDNESDAY 🪱 🧠

Thanks for the tag @stervrucht ! Ended up writing this on my lunch and hiding in the back at work lmaoooo

Because today I’m thinking about…children’s entertainer Eddie Munson and single parent Steve Harrington…

This is definitely a modern au. Eddie did the whole band thing in high school, and they still get together and play in bars and occasionally at events and things, but now Eddie’s music is…different.

Like…think Johnny Karate different.

Except he’s still Eddie. He still dresses in darker clothing, still keeps the metal influence in his music, it’s just all kid appropriate nowadays. He sings songs that are inspired by DnD and fantasy novels he loved growing up, like The Hobbit and The Last Unicorn. He even has a couple children’s books out based on his songs and stories. (His buddy Jeff illustrates them.)

Now, Eddie’s biggest fan happens to be Dustin Henderson, the young friend of single parent Steve Harrington. Dustin is actually a fan of Corroded Coffin as well, which is how he learned of Eddie’s children entertainment persona, The Freak (so named to show kids it’s good to be different), who sometimes dresses up like a court jester, especially when working a kid’s birthday party, crowning the kid as king or queen or anything else their little heart desires.

Steve has two little kids, twins, a boy and a girl. Their fifth birthday is coming up and Dustin convinces Steve to hire Eddie. After much heeing and hawing, Steve finally agrees, if only because Dustin gets the kids to whine about it too, and Steve honestly can’t say no to any of kids, even the ones that are only fiveish years younger than him.

Eddie comes, dressed in his understated jester costume, and the kids absolutely adore him. He all but beams when the boy staunchly proclaims he wants to be a princess, not a prince, and the little girl decides she wants to be a goblin. But a good one. Eddie grins and tells her to watch out for enchanted crystals.

The kids then decide that if the boy is a princess, then that makes their dad the king, and Eddie grins even wider and flourishes an adult size crown for just this sort of occasion. After a lot of complaining about his hair, Steve finally agrees to wear the crown, feeling oddly flushed when Eddie gets close enough to set it on top his head.

“Don’t worry, darling, I won’t mess your hair up too badly. Not until you ask me too,” he whispers just for Steve to hear and winks, even as he quickly jumps away because rule number one is never flirt with a parent when he’s on a job. Something about the single dad is just a little too much for Eddie’s self-restraint, however. Both are blushing.

The rest of the party goes on well, he even gets most of the adults to join in on the ridiculous and repetitive titles, and maybe he showboats a little with his guitar riffs, but Steve’s eyes have barely left him the entire time, and only then when he needed to keep his eyes on the kids.

Eddie is paid and leaves, like he’s supposed to, though not without giving out his business card to some of the other attending parents who want to hire him as well for their own kids’ birthday parties. All in all, a successful night. He gives one last glance at Steve and then he’s gone.

…

Time passes, yeah? Steve can’t stop thinking about Eddie. Eddie can’t stop thinking about Steve. They both think that’s the end of it.

And then Dustin, matchmaker extraordinaire who clocked that shit immediately because Steve hasn’t looked at anyone since the kids, convinces Steve to go to a bar with him where a live band is playing.

The band?

Why, what else but Corroded Coffin.

And the lead guitarist? Well he just happens to look beautifully familiar.

rip fartbuckle

Hostage tag: @derythcorvinus

No pressure tags: @scoops-aboy86 @endlessmusings1801 @steddieassheg0es @steddiecameraroll @fkinkindagauche (if you’ve already been tagged and posted before, let me know so I can read your stuff!)

#wriggly wednesdays #brain worms #modern au #children’s entertainer eddie munson #single dad steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington #dustin henderson #robin buckley is there laughing at steve #corroded coffin #pre steddie #steddie #steddie au #stranger things #plot thots

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goodday-goodmorn · 9 months

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Rahhhh it’s Christmas and i’m back! Today’s feature (feature? Should i start calling them that? Sounds kinda cool-) is the amazing @charliemwrites, specifically a little drabble (unedited as always), based off of their Keeper/Kept AU. Not thier most recent stuff- (I think it’s Neighbor Johnny or the Woof Woof series-) You know what? Just- Here. Everything they write is gold <3

Anyhow, i present: Domesticity and Devotion

“Oh to be a wild bird…”

You sigh, chin in your palm as you leisurely stare out at the window.

“Or a stray cat.” You muse, watching as one of the kitties of the neighborhood walks along outside.

“Those fuckers have it good. No shitty job. No rent to pay. Just free pets and wandering the world… and if someone’s being a dick they can hiss and bite all they want.”

You hum, reaching for your drink and sipping on it leisurely.

“I don’t think I could survive in the wild though.”

You say after a moment, realizing how you’re cuddled up in your blanket and sipping on your wendy’s lemonade, the TV playing some random comfort show and your laptop open as you halfheartedly play Papa's freezeria.

“Can barley survive in domesticity.” You mumble, glancing towards the envelope on the kitchen counter that you got this morning about a rent increase.

You sigh.

“Maybe in my next life i’ll be lucky enough to be reborn as some rich white ladies cat. Those fuckers are livin’ better than me that’s for sure.”

————

This is not what you meant.

When you wistfully wished to never have to step foot into the capitalist hellscape that was life again- that was not an open invitation for you to be whisked away against your will.

Apparently though, the 6 foot giant of a military man named Simion Riley, heard it as one.

Because now here you were, pampered and cared for like a bloody sugar baby or pure breed persian cat. Kept at some random location and fed and groomed and meticulously attended too.

All against your will, mind you.

However it’s hard to complain because well- you’re living life good. This realization, of just how good you have it- hits you when you feel yourself getting genuinely angry at the shitty romance novel you were reading.

The Male lead was treating the MC like shit- and the MC was letting him get away with it!

You feel your face physically grimace. To calm yourself down (because you are getting genuinely heated when she lets him shove her to the damn floor over asking him for a drink-), you set your i-pad down.

(It had been a gift; something sort of like a kindle, where you could only read books and listen to music. You weren’t sure what Simon did to it exactly- but it wasn’t just published books you had access too, comics, original works, poetry, you could get all sorts of reading stuff on here.)

“This mother fucker-“

You mumble to yourself in disbelief, shaking your head before huffing and picking the device back up. You’re close to cheering as you read the MC’s internal dialogue about wanting to bite his ass- (Truely an MC after your own heart- they were one of the main reasons you were still reading this shitshow-)

And yet, what does the main character do?

They get the drink for themselves and then let him snatch it from their hand and down it.

Nope. You’re fucking done. You’re fumin’ now, irrationally angry on the MC’s behalf because they’ve been putting up with this guy for fifteen chapters now.

The audacity of men- oh my god. You can’t believe this guy.

“Who does he think he is?!”

You grumble and then just for your own purposes you yell—

“Simon!”

Predictably he is at your side in a moment, dropping everything for you.

You have your arms crossed, as you say, “Go get me a drink.”

He tilts his head slightly, eyes crinkled just a tad at your strange mood but doesn’t deny the order. Simply asks,

“Cold or hot?”

“Cold.”

And with that he’s gone, returning with a fresh glass of ice cold lemonade, complete with a little lemon slice on the rim of the glass. You sip it, set it aside and cross your leg, tapping your forehead.

“Give me a kiss.”

He doesn’t hesitate for a moment, gently kissing your forehead.

“Kneel.”

His eyes are crinkled now with a bit of amusement, but he drops to his knees easy. Gently holding onto your soft thighs. (Always so gentle with you.)

“Course, pretty.”

He mumbles low, head tilted up to you in a question, “Need me to take care of you?”

You hum, absentmindedly messing with his hair and ignoring the way the question sends a slow pool of warmth into your tummy.

“No.”

It’s decisive. You’re practically preening with satisfaction at his actions.

“You can go now.” You say and like that, he gets up. Not a complaint on his lips even when you notice he’s got a raging boner.

“Wait!”

You call and he pauses, looking at you with a questioning hum.

“Kiss me again.”

And he does so, this time a soft gentle kiss on your lips. When he pulls away he mumbles an ever softer-

“Dinner will be ready in 10.”

You nod and pick up your tablet with satisfaction curling low in your gut. (For the duration of your reading all you can think about is how Simion would never.)

————

“And another thing-!”

Simion is absentmindedly (as absentmindedly as Simion of all people can get anyway-) rubbing circles into your back as you rant. You’re sat in his lap, coaxed into sitting there after he asked about your day.

So obviously you started to babble about the book you were reading, which turned into a whole rant session about how stupid the Male lead was.

“That stupid idiot- that moron- you wanna know what he does simion?”

He knows it’s a rhetorical question. You’re gonna tell him anyway. Still he hums to show he’s still listening.

“This bastard shoves them into the ground. To the ground! Can you believe the it?”

He shakes his head lightly with a tsk.

“Exactly. God and then when they get the drink he has the audacity to snatch it from their hand and down it in one gulp before they can even say anything.”

You shake your head, so far into your little rant you don’t realize how much you’ve made yourself comfortable. Sitting in his lap fully, ranting to him like he’s an old friend. Your tongue is loose with comfort right now. And that must be what possessed you to say—

“Me personally? I could never. If you ever pulled that shit— God i don’t even know what i’d do but it would not be pretty

You close your eyes with a nod to yourself at your own words. Not aware of the way Simon’s eyes seem to soften. Not until he gently kisses the top of your head.

“Never.”

He says it so quietly you almost miss it. (Feverintly. Reverently. Like the very idea is absurd.)

“If i ever do something like that you run and break into my gun cabinet and bloody shoot me.”

And god his voice- he’s 100 percent fucking serious. Suddenly you feel warm and small in his lap, utterly tiny compared to the sheer size of his devotion for you.

It’s all you can do to mumble out a weak.

“Good.”

And the rest of the night is spent with you reading the rest of the book together. When the MC finally is able to get rid of the Male Lead, it is a joyous occasion that ends up with her absolutely clocking the guy in the face with a champagne glass. Which then leads into a curious conversation with you and ghost about how much damage that would actually do.

It’s a good day.

#fanfic #cod fanfic #fanfic of a fanfic #(?) kinda #reader insert #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #Look at Charlie’s blog right now.#Specifically obsessive Johnny because when i tell you i was-#GAGED #Jaw dropped #Charlie’s got such good characterization #In the case she sees this-#…did you like it?#also hello

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ask-the-prose · 1 year

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Writing Burnout and Helpful Tips

Hi yall, it’s been wonderful seeing ask-the-prose posts going around writeblr and I’m so happy to see that some of these guides are helpful. If you have a specific topic you’d like me to cover, send in an ask!

What is burnout?

Burnout is incredibly common and nothing to be ashamed of! If you find you are too exhausted to do what you love, running out of ideas, or perhaps not wanting to do anything, you may be burned out. Burnout can pose a serious block to your writing, and it’s just not fun.

Burnout can happen when you’re stretching yourself too thin, spending more time and energy creating than taking in creativity, or not taking care of yourself the way you need.

Step 1: Put out the fire

One of the number one ways to fast-track your way to burnout is to forget to care for yourself. We’re writers! Sometimes we get in the zone, or maybe a little obsessed, and we forget to eat, hydrate, and maybe even put off sleep. But ignoring self-care is unsustainable.

We all see posts all over reminding us to hydrate, eat well, sleep, and even stretch, but these are genuinely great tips to remember when you’re not feeling well. I’d like to add a few ideas to try when you’re feeling down.

Exercise. Walk, run, play a sport, do anything that helps move your body, whatever you can do to help your blood flow, even if it’s just a few push-ups or a good stretch.

Find a new set of walls to stare at. I get in a rut going to the same places or staying home when I have nowhere to go. But hanging out at a coffee shop or cafe helps me often. It’s a chance to observe people, see new things, and get some sunlight. If you need to shake it up, try a new cafe!

Socialize. Sometimes burnout looks like loneliness. Socialize! Talk to a friend or family member, or make a new friend! New perspectives help.

Not all of these work for everybody, but they’re friendly suggestions to try when you’re feeling burnout coming on.

Step 2: Replenish your reserves

As creatives, we get stuck always wanting to create, but that’s not sustainable either! Creativity is not just an internal process, we need external stimulation to replenish our creative reserves. When you feel like you just can’t come up with ideas or anything new, maybe it’s time to read.

Reading can help, though I personally understand the struggle to read (and finish!) books. Start with short stories or novellas if you struggle to read novels. Read within the genre you’re trying to write, and then step out of your genre and try something new. You never know when inspiration will strike.

Watch movies, listen to new music, play a video game, or do anything that can give you a creative boost. Reading is critical, but learning about other mediums is just as important.

Step 3: Self-indulgence is key

You may find as you’re recovering from the burnout that your wip may just be what’s causing the problem. Ask yourself some important questions:

Am I writing for myself?

Am I writing something that I want to write?

If not, what do I want to write about?

Do I like what I’m writing, or do I feel like it’s what everyone wants to read?

Answer these questions for yourself, and if you find you don’t like those answers, take a look at your project and see what you can or want to change. Remember, if it’s not fun and it’s not what you want, then it might not be worth it.

Take what you need, leave what you don’t

As always, this guide is meant to be helpful, and as with all writing advice, it’s entirely subjective. I believe these tips work because they worked for me. But if you find that something isn’t helping, leave it! Move on or adjust to what you as an individual need to recover from your burnout.

Remember that no writing is ever wasted and that your writing matters. We need your voice too!

– Indy

#writing help #writing advice #writing tips #writing burnout #writers block #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writblr #avoiding burnout #writing community #writing resources #writers of tumblr #creative writing

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c-e-d-dreamer · 2 months

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Wreck My Plans, That's My Man: Prequel

A/N: Sometimes, family is... (checks notes)... being in a band with your brothers? That counts, right? @cassianappreciationweek Listen, I just wanted an excuse to bring back Drummer Cassian! Time to find out how Cassian and Nesta met and how Cassian got that first date 😉 If you've read the first part, there are some fun easter eggs in here like Cassian writing the song and a callback to “I can’t wait for you to be mean to me for the rest of our lives.”

Part One // Read on AO3

“I think the end of the queue is this way.”

“I can’t believe there’s already so many people here.”

Nesta allows herself to be led down the sidewalk by her linked arm with Elain, the middle Archeron following the path carved by Feyre forging ahead. As they walk, Nesta can’t help but eye the crowds around them. Elain is right, there are more people than Nesta expected, almost all of them dressed up in some way. Some have face paint scrawled across their cheeks, some have handmade signs clasped in their hands. And Nesta even spies a trio of girls dressed as cows, some sort of band inside joke that she’s clearly not privy to.

Although, she’s not really privy to anything when it comes to the band.

She still can’t believe she allowed Feyre to talk her into attending this concert in the first place. Sure, she’s always had a deep love of music, ever since she was a little girl. Something about the way a lilting melody can carve and embed itself within her very bones, about the way a harmony can flood and warm her veins, about the way a simple string of notes can somehow sing to her very soul, plucking at strings within her until only peace remains.

But she has no knowledge of what type of music she can expect to hear tonight.

And when the choices are curling up beneath a pile of blankets with a glass of wine and her latest Sellyn Drake novel or standing all night while dealing with screaming girls and songs she doesn’t even know? Well, Feyre and Elain are lucky that Nesta loves them.

“What time do the doors open?” Elain asks, drawing Nesta out of her thoughts.

“They should have already opened,” Feyre explains, trying to peer around the bodies in front of them. “Either way, we don’t have to worry. Our tickets are for one of those fancy boxes.”

“Really?”

“We could get one of those fancy boxes but not a special entrance that doesn’t require standing in line?” Nesta asks dryly.

“Alright, grumpy,” Feyre teases with a roll of her eyes. “I’m sure it’ll move quickly.”

At least, Feyre’s assumption is correct. They continue to shuffle forward and forward until the line of doors is in full view, workers making quick work of checking bags and scanning tickets. Wristbands are secured around all three sisters’ wrists, and then they’re stepping inside the venue. Upbeat music from a playlist blares through the sound system, fans excitedly rushing forward toward the general admission crowd gathering along the floor in front of the stage.

“Come on. I want to get a t-shirt,” Feyre declares, wrapping a hand around each of her sisters’ wrists and dragging them toward the large table to the right.

While she and Elain wait for Feyre to make her purchase, Nesta eyes a pair of girls also waiting to buy merch. One of the girls has a sign, looping red letters declaring, Won’t you be my Van-Daddy? The request has Nesta snorting softly to herself. She still remembers when Lucien Vanserra first hit his growth spurt, when he was all middle school gangly limbs in their kitchen while he and Feyre worked on a school project. And that nerdy boy with unruly red hair is meant to be “daddy?”

“Got it,” Feyre announces, stepping back over to them and holding her shirt up for them to see.

“Isn’t it a bit weird to have a shirt with your childhood friend’s face on it?” Nesta asks, tilting her head as she takes in the design of the front of the shirt.

“More like hilarious,” Feyre argues, folding the shirt and tossing it over her arm. “When we get up to our seats, you have to take a picture of me in it, so I can send it to Lucien.”

They make another pit stop at one of the venue bars, each ordering a drink, and then finally, they make it to their seats. Nesta has to admit, the view is pretty amazing. She steps right up to the low wall meant to act as a railing for their box, peering down at the throngs of bodies excitedly awaiting the start of the show along the floor. Her eyes trail up and to the stage, skating over the setup for the opening act. It’s simple, just a drum set and two microphone stands set in front of it, but despite the good view of the stage, Nesta can’t quite make out the white script on the front of the drums.

“Who’s the opener?” Nesta asks, turning toward where Feyre is posing with her new shirt thrown over her dress while Elain takes her photo.

“Um…” Feyre hums, taking her phone back from Elain and typing away at the screen. “Some band called the Bat Boys.”

Nesta snorts softly. “What a stupid name for a band.”

As though the Mother herself is laughing at Nesta, the lights dim as soon as she’s made the comment, an echo of cheers ringing out all around them. Three men step out and onto the stage, each of them with dark hair and dressed in all black. They take up their spots, the guitarist speaking into the microphone and to the crowd, but Nesta finds her gaze instantly drawn to the drummer.

He’s certainly larger than his bandmates, all wide shoulders and chest. The black tank he’s wearing stretches against his size and his skin, the swell of muscle of his arms and the ink swirling along the golden brown skin on full display, and those very arms and muscles flex with every swing of his arms against the drum kit as he plays the opening song of the band’s set. His hair hangs loose around his face and down to his shoulders, dark curly strands practically swaying along with the beat of the music he’s creating. And even from her vantage point, Nesta can tell he’s got a wide, cocksure smirk plastered across his face, even as he leans forward to sing into his own microphone.

“For a band with a stupid name,” Feyre leans over to shout in Nesta’s ear over the music. “They’re pretty good.”

Nesta rolls her eyes at the almost smug tone of her youngest sister, but she can’t quite disagree. She finds herself tapping her foot and nodding along with each song that the Bat Boys play, humming appreciatively when they slow it down to a more stripped back song.

But when the song ends, the drummer jumps to his feet, peeling off his tank and tossing it into the crowd, showing off every hard line of muscle and every line of tattoo ink. A clamor of screams rings out from the crowd in response, making the drummer’s grin widen as he makes a big show of flexing.

“One two three four!” he shouts, banging his drum sticks together and jumping into the next song of their set, another upbeat one.

Nesta shakes her head. “What a fucking show off…”

~ * * * ~

Nesta’s ears are still ringing, an ache pressing against the balls of her feet, as she follows her sisters down the steps and out of the venue. The cool, night air is a welcome reprieve after the heat inside, and Nesta takes a deep breath, allowing it to prickle across the skin of her cheeks. She can still feel the music humming through her veins, still hear the last song the Band of Exiles played winding around her mind, her soul.

“Should we split an Uber?” Nesta turns to ask her sisters.

“Actually, Lucien sent me the bar they’ve gone to for post gig drinks,” Feyre offers with a sly smile. “He said we’re welcome to join.”

“Really?” Elain asks, the clear excitement coloring her tone leaving both sisters blinking in surprise for a moment, but Elain doesn’t say anything more. She merely turns away as though the night will hide the blush flooding her cheeks.

“Then you two go,” Nesta says. “I’d rather just go home.”

“Oh, come on, Nesta,” Feyre pouts, looping her arm through Nesta’s as if that will physically keep her from leaving. “It’s just one drink. It’s not going to kill you.”

Feyre continues to pout at Nesta, making a big show of blinking her eyes as if she’s seven years old again and that look will make Nesta give her an extra cookie for dessert. Still, it has Nesta sighing with a fond roll of her eyes.

“Fine. One drink and then I’m going home.”

“That’s the spirit! And just think of the money you’ll save on an Uber by waiting out these crowds.”

Nesta rolls her eyes again, but it doesn’t deter either of her sisters. Feyre doesn’t even bother dropping Nesta’s arm, using their linked arms to tug Nesta along the sidewalk in what she assumes is the direction of the bar. At least, it’s not a far walk. A small consolation, Nesta supposes.

The bar itself isn’t one that Nesta has ever been to before, but she can admit it’s quite nice. Pendant lights hang above the dark wood of the bartop, painting the whole space in golden light that bounces off the colorful bottles lining the shelves behind the bar. With the moody green wallpaper and the dark tiled floors, it’s as though the space has stepped directly out of an elegant speakeasy.

Unsurprisingly, there’s already a large crowd enjoying the drinks and ambience and their respective Friday nights, but Feyre leads the way up a set of stairs and to what appears to be some sort of private event space. Nesta glances around at the smaller secondary bar along the left side of the wall, the people gathered around it and the various high top tables lining the railing to the right.

“Feyre Archeron.”

Nesta turns just in time to find Lucien Vanserra now standing in front of her sisters. He’s certainly had another growth spurt since Nesta last saw him all those years ago, Lucien now standing a head above them all. He seems to have grown into his red hair too, the strands hanging around his face and framing the high cheekbones and strong jawline of his features.

“Lucien Vanserra.”

Feyre and Lucien continue to stare at one another for a moment, but then, Feyre is letting out an excited squeal, all but leaping into Lucien’s arms. He hugs her back tightly, lifting her off her feet in the process and laughing into the golden brown strands of her hair.

“Did you get shorter?” Lucien asks, setting Feyre back down on her feet.

“Fuck you,” Feyre gasps out on a laugh, punching him in the arm. “It’s not my fault you went and became a giant after going away to fancy private school. You know, I still remember when I had to defend you on the playground as kids.”

Lucien laughs easily, shaking his head. “We remember those days very differently clearly.”

Nesta clears her throat loudly, finally drawing back Feyre’s attention. “Sorry. You remember my two older sisters, Nesta and Elain.”

“Of course, I…” Lucien begins, his voice trailing off when he meets Elain’s brown eyes. “Elain.”

Elain smiles sweetly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I really liked you and your band’s songs.”

“You did?” Lucien asks, his voice practically breathless.

“Especially that one song about losing a love, but still dancing with the ghost of them in the kitchen.”

Lucien’s smile is slow, russet eyes bright and only on Elain. “I wrote that one myself actually.”

“It just really spoke to me,” Elain tells him, stepping forward as though tugged by some invisible golden thread. “Right to my heart.”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“Please.”

They don’t even say anything else, don’t even bother looking back before Elain and Lucien vanish toward the bar. It takes everything within Nesta not to snort in amusement at the whole thing, at the way they’re both so clearly staring at one another with stars in their eyes. At least, one Archeron is ending their night happy.

“Is she serious?” Feyre asks, affronted. “Lucien is my friend.”

“Can I go home now?” Nesta asks in response instead.

“Only if you’re going home with me.”

The deep timbre prickles along the back of Nesta’s neck, and when she whirls around, she comes face to face with the drummer of the Bat Boys. He has that same cocksure smile that he wore up on stage, and he seemingly found a fresh black shirt to pull on, the fabric clinging just as tightly as the tank did.

Nesta had known he was large when she saw him on stage, but face to face, she realizes she still may have underestimated. This close, she realizes that his eyes are hazel, a burning maze of greens and flickering gold, that there’s a scar through his eyebrow of the right one. This close, she realizes he smells of pine and leather and that sweet scent that twists on the breeze right before it snows.

This close, she realizes he is unfairly attractive, and she just might hate him for it.

“Did you really think that line was going to work?” Nesta asks dryly.

“Can you blame me for trying? A woman as beautiful as you, I had to shoot my shot.”

Nesta raises an eyebrow, settling the drummer with a look cold enough to send any man scampering back to his table. “Compliments will get you nowhere.”

In a surprising twist, rather than cut his losses, the drummer throws his head back and laughs, the sound deep and warm. It seems to come straight from within his chest, seems to curl around Nesta’s limbs. When he meets Nesta’s gaze again, there’s a fire blazing in his eyes, a challenge, and his smirk has morphed into one of pure amusement. The reaction sparks the embers in Nesta’s own chest, but she’s quick to douse them, quick to keep her face perfectly cool and neutral.

“So it’s a no for pickup lines. A no for compliments,” the drummer notes, daring to lean in closer into Nesta’s space until she gets a lungful of pine and a crackling fire. “How about bribery then, sweetheart? Can I buy you a drink? Your choice.”

“And what if I order the most expensive drink I can get? Top shelf.”

The drummer hums as though he’s actually considering it. “Alright. But you have to chat with me until you finish the drink.”

“Deal.”

The drummer holds his hand out expectantly, and Nesta has to blink a few times at just how large his hand is. But she refuses to be fazed. Raising her chin, she slides her hand into his. His calluses slide against her palm, fingers curling around almost her entire hand and threatening to send a shiver skittering up her spine. His touch is surprisingly warm, his entire body and presence seeming to resonate heat.

Before the handshake can last too long, Nesta yanks her hand away again. She turns on her heel and strides toward the bar, heavy footfalls behind her and the gaze burning into her back informing her that the drummer is following. She leans against the dark wood of the bar top, quickly grabbing the bartender’s attention with a simple raise of her hand.

“Can I get a shot of your best, most expensive vodka? On his tab,” Nesta requests, gesturing with her head to where the drummer now leans against the bar beside her.

The drummer laughs again, an easy chuckle. “Now that’s just cheating.”

Nesta turns toward him properly, finally giving in to the smirk she’d been biting back. “Guess you better talk fast.”

“How about we start with names? I’m Cassian, and you are…?”

The bartender returns at that exact moment, setting the small shot glass full of clear liquid down in front of Nesta. She swipes it up and tosses it back. The vodka is smooth, but it still burns on the way down, mixing and coaxing the burn of satisfaction low in her gut. Slamming the now empty shot glass back on the bar top, Nesta spins around toward the door.

“Time’s up. Better luck next time.”

She keeps her chin raised high, keeps that smirk firmly in place. She revels in the prickle across her skin at that gaze she can still feel pinned to her, and if she sways her hips a bit more than she normally would, well, no one but her has to know.

~ * * * ~

When Nesta checks her phone while enjoying her morning coffee, she’s surprised to find a new follower and a new DM request on her Instagram. She clicks on the account and almost rolls her eyes at the hazel eyed, curly haired man smirking back at her in the profile photo. He’s certainly dedicated, she’ll have to give him that. She knows that she should ignore him, maybe even block him, but curiosity has her clicking back over to the DM.

@BatBoyCass Hello, Nes 😏

@LadyNesta Stalking me on Instagram? Really?

Nesta’s surprise only grows when almost instantly the three small dots appear at the bottom of the screen, indicating that Cassian is typing. Was he waiting by his phone for her response? Didn’t he have band practice or something? According to Elain, the tour was moving on to a new city today, much to her younger sister’s apparent disappointment.

@BatBoyCass Actually, your sister gave me your handle. She refused to give me your number and decided this was safer. Quite protective. Rhys was into it But that’s not important. How’s your morning going, Nes?

@LadyNesta It’s Nesta. Not Nes

@BatBoyCass Guess you should’ve stuck around last night. Could have told me that yourself. It’s too late now. Nes 😜

@LadyNesta Is this your next tactic? Bribery didn’t work so now you just plan to annoy me?

@BatBoyCass Actually, my next tactic is this

Nesta frowns down at her phone screen, at the message, but then a moment later, a photo comes through in the chat. It’s a mirror selfie, but Nesta can’t tell where it was taken from the background. Although, it’s hard to focus on anything other than the large body taking up the frame. Cassian is shirtless, black fabric draped over his shoulder presumably the remnants of his shirt.

Nesta can do nothing but stare at the hard cut of his jaw where his head is tilted to look at the phone in his hand. At each swirl and loop of black ink across the golden brown skin of his chest and arms. At every hard line of muscle that makes up his stomach. At the waistband of what looks like gray sweatpants hanging low enough that his v lines are on full display.

The whole sight is enough for Nesta’s mouth to go dry, for heat to creep up her neck and spill across her cheeks. Before she even realizes, her bottom lip has found home between her teeth, eyes tracing over the photo again and again. What would it feel like, getting her hands on that body, feeling each hard line and curve beneath her fingers? What would it feel like to have his hands on her? She still remembers just how large they were compared to her own.

“Fuck,” Nesta whispers to herself, mentally chastising herself and shaking her head of any of those sorts of thoughts. Instead, her fingers tap across the screen of her phone.

@LadyNesta What’s next? A dick pic?

@BatBoyCass That goes against Instagram’s guidelines. You’ll have to give me your actual number for that Or I’d be more than happy to give you a show in person😏

@LadyNesta You’re not even in Velaris anymore

@BatBoyCass Did you look up our tour, Nes? I’m touched 🥹

Nesta scoffs and rolls her eyes, setting her phone face down on the table. She goes back to finishing her coffee, but she barely lasts a minute before she’s swiping her phone back up. She refuses to let him have the last word, refuses to let him continue to believe she would ever look up his tour dates.

@LadyNesta You wish. My sister mentioned it

@BatBoyCass Don’t worry. There’s only a few weeks left of the tour. Then, I’ll be back in Velaris. Maybe we can get dinner then?

@LadyNesta Pass

@BatBoyCass How about another bargain? You have to send me a message every day, just one. Unless my irresistible charm has you wanting to send more 😉 But one message, that’s the deal. Maybe a fun fact about yourself? One every day until I’m back in Velaris. And then if you still don’t want to get dinner with me, then I’ll leave you alone

@LadyNesta Fine. Here’s my first “fun fact” about me. I’m incredibly stubborn and I hate not winning. So hope you’re prepared for the crushing disappointment of rejection

With a satisfied hum, Nesta sets her phone down for good. The man clearly needs to learn how to phrase his bargains better. One message a day. Easy. It will be the easiest thing Nesta has ever done. And in a few weeks time, this stupid drummer with his stupid chiseled body and his stupid easy smile and warm laugh and pretty hazel eyes will be out of her life for good.

But when Nesta finally dares to check her phone later that night, she finds a new message from Cassian waiting for her. He’s shared an Instagram Reel with her, and when Nesta clicks it, Jake Johnson’s voice blares from her speakers, ‘Stop being so mean to me or I swear to God I’m going to fall in love with you,’ and there, in the quiet and dark in her bedroom, where no one else can see her, Nesta laughs.

~ * * * ~

Nesta wakes to another photo in her Instagram DMs, but this time, Cassian is nowhere to be seen in it. Instead, the photo is of a beach. The waves crashing against the sandy shore look almost silver, the silhouettes of birds flying just above. The horizon is a line of purple that gives way to pinks and yellows before fading into the deep blue of night still clinging to the top of the frame.

Sunrise. It’s the beach right before the sun rises, Nesta realizes. She finds herself wondering what he was doing awake so early, almost going so far as to type out that very question and ask before she catches herself. She holds down the backspace, focusing on Cassian’s message below the photo instead.

@BatBoyCass Good morning, Nes! We’re in sunny Adriata today. I bet you’d look gorgeous in a bikini 😍 Definitely wish you were here. I could rub sunscreen on your shoulders. You could rub sunscreen onto mine. Sounds like a dream…

@LadyNesta Sounds more like a nightmare

Nesta continues with the rest of her morning, getting ready and heading to one of her favorite brunch spots in town to meet with Emerie and Gwyn. It isn’t until she’s settled at the table, thanking the waitress who sets down three waters while she waits, that Nesta finally looks at her phone again.

@BatBoyCass Not a fan of the beach, sweetheart?

@LadyNesta Oh, I love the beach, but I much prefer a cold drink and a good book on the beach rather than obnoxious drummers

@BatBoyCass You like to read? What kind of books do you like?

Instinctively, Nesta starts to type out a response, always more than happy to talk about her love of books, about her current read, but then she remembers their bargain. And she’s already shared her ‘fun fact’ about herself for the day, already met her quota, and she still refuses to lose. She quickly deletes the message she had typed out, but Cassian must be watching for her reply, must have seen the three dots to show that she was typing appear and then disappear.

@BatBoyCass That’s alright. We can save that question for tomorrow. I’ve always preferred historical fiction. I actually just finished reading Hatfield 1677 while on tour and really enjoyed it I think if the band didn’t work out, I’d end up a history teacher. I’d be good at being a history teacher. Maybe in another life

@LadyNesta Another life? I didn’t take you as the type of person to believe in that sort of thing.

@BatBoyCass I hope I meet you in every life

“Who has you smiling and blushing at your phone?”

Nesta snaps her head up to find Emerie now standing at their table, her brown eyes alight with amusement and a small smirk tugging up her lips. She scowls fondly at her friend, setting her phone face down on the table and willing the heat prickling her cheeks to dissipate.

“No one.”

~ * * * ~

@LadyNesta Do you ever get nervous up on stage?

Loathe as she is to admit it, over the last couple of weeks, Nesta has come to enjoy her messages with Cassian. There’s something easy about it, about their back and forth. Something about the way her teasing and jabs only leave him laughing, the way he gives back as good as he gets. Something about the way he genuinely cares about what she has to say, about her ‘fun facts.’ Something about how he doesn’t balk when she dares to share a deeper piece of herself.

It’s surprisingly comfortable, as though she’s known Cassian much longer than she actually has. As though she’s known him her whole life, as though her very soul somehow recognizes him. As though there’s music entwining them like golden threads.

@BatBoyCass Actually, I love it. It’s exhilarating being up there. I can feel the music all the way down to my bones. And to hear a crowd sing back a song you wrote? There’s nothing like it

@LadyNesta You write songs?

@BatBoyCass That’s right, Nes. I’m more than just a pretty face 😎 I even started writing a new song just yesterday

@LadyNesta Let me guess. You’re going to play it for me?

@BatBoyCass Not until it’s finished. I still need that last bit of inspiration Hoping to find it tomorrow 👀

@LadyNesta What’s tomorrow?

Nesta stares at the screen of her phone, waiting. She watches the three dots appear and then disappear. They appear and then they disappear again. It has Nesta tilting her head curiously, eyebrows dipping in confusion. She knows that she hasn’t known Cassian particularly long, but this certainly doesn’t seem like him. He’s usually so quick to respond to her messages, so quick to turn on the teasing and the charm without a second thought. What could it mean that he’s typing and retyping his answer? Is he… nervous?

@BatBoyCass Tonight’s the last show of our tour. In Scythia. I’ll be back in Velaris by tomorrow afternoon

Nesta’s heart skips a beat in her chest. This is it, the moment of truth, the end of their bargain. She could tell him that she’s still not interested, and that will be the end of their interactions. She’ll never receive another message from Cassian. She could tell him that his charm and his kind heart and good looks has had no effect on her.

But she’d be lying to him just as much as herself.

Only a few weeks, and already Nesta can’t imagine a day without talking to Cassian. Just the very idea has ice bleeding between her ribs and threatening to crystalize in her chest. She wants to see that fire blaze in his hazel eyes and push back to meet it until he’s smirking in amusement. She wants to hear his crazy stories from tour and his teasing innuendos. She wants him to make her laugh. And if she’s really being honest with herself, she wants to see and feel that body and those hands outside of a mere photo.

@LadyNesta 7pm. Don’t be late

~ * * * ~

The knock on her front door sounds through the apartment just as Nesta is finishing up the last touch ups to her makeup. She glances toward the clock, the red digital numbers declaring the time to be 6:58. Punctual. One last look over herself in the mirror, and Nesta steps out of her bedroom.

When she pulls open the front door, Cassian is standing on the other side. His hair is scraped back away from his face, piled into a bun at the back of his head, and a comfortably worn leather jacket hangs on his frame. His hazel eyes in person spark that same way Nesta remembers, a slow smirk tugging up his lips as he leans casually against the door frame.

“Hello, Nes.” His eyes sweep over her, his jaw slackening. “Mother save me. You look amazing.”

“I thought we already established that compliments will get you nowhere.”

“Can you blame me when you look this beautiful?”

Nesta has to swallow down a blush at his words, at the sincerity burning in his gaze. She rolls her eyes and shoves lightly at Cassian’s chest, enough to get him to move back so she can step out of her apartment.

“Are we going to dinner or not?”

“Of course,” Cassian confirms, holding his hand out until Nesta threads her fingers through his own larger ones. “I got us a reservation at Carmichael’s.”

Nesta’s steps stutter for a moment and she peers up at Cassian in surprise. “Carmichael’s? Don’t you need to make reservations weeks in advance there?”

“Oh, you do. I made the reservation as soon as we agreed on our bargain.”

Nesta comes fully to a stop at that. She blinks a few times, trying to wrap her mind around this new information, and she can’t help it. She laughs. Cassian’s eyes light up at the sound, the gold flecks within the hazel practically glinting beneath the lights of the hallway. His smirk morphs into a wide, genuine smile, and the sight is enough to leave Nesta feeling breathless.

“Feeling confident, were you?” Nesta teases, trying and failing to fight back her own grin.

“I’m confident about plenty of things, sweetheart,” Cassian tells her, stepping closer into her space. He uses his free hand to twist one of the strands of Nesta’s hair framing her face, the tips of his fingers skimming along her temple.

“Is that so? And what else are you confident about?”

“That I’m going to marry you one day.”

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @lady-nestas @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise @witch-and-her-witcher @fieldofdaisiies @freakingata

#CassianWeek2024 #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #cassian acotar #acotar #acosf #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nesta x cassian #my fic

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seeingivy · 1 year

Text

fearless

satoru gojo x f!reader

in which satoru makes you a little more fearless

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

an: no one will stop me from writing satoru one shots based on taylor swift songs. no one.

You watch the manager get in her car, waving her goodbye as you sit on the bench. You pull out your phone, shooting fast text messages to all of your friends. It was time for this godforsaken night to be over.

satoru. favor pls pls pls.

beg :P

i was on a date but i got stood up. i need a ride back home and shoko has night shift :0

alsoooo….the restaurant closed and i’m kinda standing alone in the rain :(

wtf. address. omw now.

faster. im freezing to death as you speak.

stfu.

You can feel the rain coming down harder as time goes on and you huddle under the wall of the building. You’re trying to avoid getting wet or contracting hypothermia in the twenty minutes it will take Satoru to get here.

The rain is…surprisingly refreshing. You can see puddles forming in the divots of the pavement, the glow of the sign overhead reflecting in them. The air smells clean, the streetlights making the entire road glow. If your date had actually showed up, it could make for a very special memory, like the Notebook or the Titanic. You could walk in the rain, hand in hand getting drenched and jumping in the puddles.

See. This was your problem. You curse your sweet little romantic heart in moments like this. It would kill you one day. The real world is not like your romance novels. Or your favorite movies. Or the songs you love to listen to.

In the real world, people don’t respond to your texts, they leave you stranded at a restaurant in the middle of a god damn monsoon. People don’t ask you on dates, or spill coffee on you in restaurants, or stay in love with you after years of dating.

You shake your head, dispelling the thoughts from your mind. You’re not going to think about that tonight.

You see a car pull into the parking lot and recognize it immediately. The black car has music blaring from it, the front bumper entirely gone. When you told Satoru he needed to get his driving under control since he’s driving two kids around all the time, all he said was “hot girls can’t park” in response.

Satoru smacks the door shut, an umbrella in his hand. You watch him run over, noting that he was in a fancier outfit than usual. He pulls you under the umbrella, the two of you standing closely underneath it.

“Well, there’s hardly a point for that now.” you say, looking up at the umbrella.

“You could have checked the weather forecast and kept an umbrella with you.”

“Victim blaming is a horrible look on you, Satoru Gojo.”

He laughs, rolling his eyes as he secures his arm around you, leading you back to the car.

“I’m glad to see your horrible night has done nothing to kill your attitude problem.”

You ignore the comment, ducking into the car. It’s nice and toasty, the heater being cranked to the highest setting. Satoru runs to the other side, jumping into the car as well. He backs out of the parking lot, the two of you heading home. The two of you drive in silence for some time, the only sound being Satoru’s music blasting from the stereo.

“So…you were on a date?”

“Well, he didn’t come. So no, I wasn’t on a date.”

“Shut up. You’re so annoying.”

You smile, putting your hands under your thighs to warm them.

“But actually. You’re dating again, Y/N?”

“Trying to. Figured it was time to get back out there and all.” you whisper, the car enveloping in silence again. Your head mulls over the events of the night again.

You got ready. You took out your nice curling iron, spent an hour on your makeup, and took out your best party dress. All to sit in the restaurant eating the free bread and eating dinner alone.

“Sometimes, I think I expect too much. I’m too shy to love for real.”

“What do you mean, Y/N?”

“I don’t know. I’m not making any sense.”

“Tell me what comes to mind. I’ll piece it together, yeah?”

You nod, feeling the blood pulsating in your neck.

“I just…want love so bad. The real kind. Like throwing pebbles at the window, stereo over your head, running to the airport, dancing in the rain, kind of love. But, I’d never really do that. I’m too scared to say I want that and too much of a coward to actually do it myself. I just wish someone would come around who wanted to do it all with me.”

Satoru is quiet, his hands still placed on the steering wheel. He doesn’t respond, his jaw clenched.

“Nevermind. I’m being silly, Satoru.”

At the sound of your dismissance, he stops the car, pulling it over on the side of the road. You turn your head, confused on why he was stopping in front of a Walgreens that was already closed.

“Satoru. Why are you stopping?”

He looks over, his eyes peering into yours. His hand reaches for the stereo, turning the volume all the way up. You’re about to protest but he jumps out of the car before you can. He’s standing outside in the pouring rain, getting drenched. You scoot over to his seat, rolling the window down to talk to him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you nearly scream, the sound of the rain and the wind obscenely loud.

“Get out of the car, Y/N!”

“It’s pouring. And my clothes will get wet.”

He leans over the side of the car, his veiny hands resting on the window you opened. You look down, the water tracking into the side of his car. You look back up, his eyes boring into yours. You’re unable to place the look in his eyes.

“Get out. I’m not asking. I want to dance with you, right here and right now.”

He pushes off the car and extends his hand out, the rain pouring down on him. His hair is a matted mess, his shirt sticking to his torso. Fuck it. You peel off your jacket before joining him in the rain.

The drops are cold against your bare shoulders, the curls you spent hours doing wilting in the rain. You put your hand in his and smile, the water dripping down both of your faces. He spins you around, holding you against his chest.

He hands you his phone, placing his head on your shoulder to look at the screen with you.

“Pick the song, peaches.”

You turn your head, his lips a few inches from yours.

“Peaches?”

“Your shampoo. It smells like peaches.”

You nod, turning back to scroll through his phone. You can feel his arms snaking around your waist, holding you tight against his back. You pick the first song you can find - Lover by Taylor Swift - and press the button.

You can hear the opening notes start to blare out of his car. Satoru snatches his phone back from your fingers and spins you back around to face him. His hands readjust to interlock with yours. The two of you take turns spinning each other around and swaying in the rain, the song whistling in the back. Satoru tries to dip you and horribly fails, the two of you nearly tumbling onto the pavement.

“Okay, maybe I’m not the best at dancing, but the thought is still there.”

You laugh, your cheeks sore from smiling so hard. You slow down your swaying and press yourself against Satoru, digging your face into the crook of his neck. You feel like your heart is about to burst. You could die right here, in Satoru Gojo’s arms. You feel him slow down at the contact, his hands pressing you even closer into him.

The two of you sway in silence, enveloped in each other's embrace for what feels like a long time, before you break apart to actually go home. You move first, murmuring how Tsumiki and Megumi were probably worried sick. He responds that they could care less but heads back to the car nonetheless.

You settle back into the car, the two of you tracking rain all over his seats. As he backs out, he interlocks his fingers with yours, squeezing your fingers twice before driving on. You lean your head against his shoulder, his minty smell overwhelming your nose.

When he pulls into your driveway, the two of you get out, the rain finally stopping. There are puddles in the pavement as you make your way up the driveway, you and Satoru stomping in them on your way up. You can’t tell if you’re trembling from the cold or from his hand in yours.

He stops at your porch, turning back over to face you.

“Did you want to come in? I can find a change of clothes.” you whisper, breaking the silence.

He shakes his head, grinning at you.

“Kids are waiting at home with Nanami. I’m sure he’s already pissed at how long I’ve been gone.”

You smile, nodding at his words. His hair is damp now, lying messily against the top of his forehead. You resist the urge to reach up and touch it.

You’re not sure what it is, maybe something in the air but…you want to kiss him. You want to kiss Satoru Gojo, right here right now. Drenched from the rain, freezing cold, on your dingy ass porch.

You ignore the shaking in your hands and swing your hands around his neck, your faces inches away from each other. You can see the hesitance in his eyes, the confusion at what you were doing.

You close your eyes and lean forward, sincerely hoping he won’t reject you. And just like you wished, he didn’t. His plush lips press against yours, his hands snaking around you to pull you closer. He tastes sweet, the mint you were smelling earlier present on his lips. He breaks apart, pressing soft kisses all over your face - the side of your cheek, the bridge of your nose, the top of your forehead.

You’re interrupted by Satoru’s phone ringing, Nanami’s contact flashing against the screen. Before Satoru can speak, you shake your head, telling him to head home. He presses another peck to your lips before leaving.

You lock the door behind you, flicking on the lights as you head up to your room. As you peel out of your soaked dress, you hear a light knocking against your window.

You look down to find Satoru in your lawn, throwing pebbles at your window. You swing it open, glaring down at him.

“You’re going to break my window, idiot.”

“You wanted this!”

“What are you doing?”

“Dancing in the rain, pebbles on your window, stereo of your head, running to the airport kind of love. I’m the person who wants to do it with you!”

You pause, taking in his words. You can feel your heart pounding against your chest, realizing what was happening. This idiot was going to be the death of you.

You throw a shirt on quickly and run back down the stairs, to where Satoru was still standing outside. When you reach him, you grab him by the end of his collar, pulling him down to kiss him again. He freezes at the contact at first before smiling against your mouth and returning your affections.

The two of you break apart, again, both of you laughing. He rests his forehead against yours, smiling down at you.

“God.”

“What, Satoru?”

“For someone who is supposedly a coward, you’re feeling bold today.”

You pause.

“It’s you. You make me fearless.”

You feel him take your face into his hands, his eyes filled with warmth as he looks down at you.

“Fearless enough to stand in your lawn with no pants on?”

You smack the side of his shoulder, before running back into your house. He joins you back at the door, reminding you that he won’t treat you to the best second date ever if you parade in front of your neighbors half naked again. You smack him one more time for good measure, before pressing a kiss to his cheek to say goodbye.

the satoru as taylor swift series masterlist

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