#*not moving this year. most likely next year

[barcaatthemoon]

complicate me || leah williamson x reader ||

Coming back to Arsenal was a mistake, but you and Leah manage to make an even bigger one together.

18+

You had always known that you wouldn't be at Manchester forever. A three year loan was a pretty long time, and for a moment, you had hoped that it would become permanent. Arsenal had let you stay the couple years, but with Jonas out, management ended your loan early. They wanted you back in red, not that you could blame them. There were a lot of important games coming up, and even if you technically couldn't play in a couple of them, you were still an important piece for practices.

It felt weird for you to walk the training grounds at Arsenal by yourself. Jen was gone, and she had always been the person you could count on to still be your mate after everything. Leah had kept most of your friends after the breakup, and then you hadn't exactly helped your case when you just up and left after everything.

You could still remember the way that Caitlin had practically begged for you to stay with the team. If it wasn't for Jen, you probably would have been convinced to stay. A part of you regretted leaving, but you knew that you hadn't been in your right mind with Leah so close after everything. At the time, it all seemed like too much to be reconciled, but now you were hopeful that things could be fixed.

You'd never in a million years get back together with Leah, no matter how good she looked. It didn't matter how many drinks you had on a team night out. After the first couple to celebrate wins, however, you promptly decided that you'd be a loner at Arsenal. With Jen in California, you had lost your personal voice of reason, the only person who could truly keep you away from Leah for your own wellbeing.

"Come on, you have to come over. You never do anything with the team, everybody's gonna think that you hate them," Caitlin pleaded with you. The two of you had been going back and forth for the past week about you coming to the party she was throwing with Katie at their place. It was a bye week, so everybody was free to enjoy the weekend. You knew there would be a lot of drinking, and that was what scared you. You had always been able to hold your liquor pretty well physically, but you made absolutely terrible decisions sometimes.

"Cait, nobody wants me there. Let's face it, they barely even want me playing here again," you reasoned. Caitlin could see you start to move to get up and rushed to grab onto your wrist. "Caitlin, I don't want to argue about this."

"Then don't argue and just come over for a bit. You don't have to talk to anybody but me. Just please, I miss you. I've missed you since you moved and iced everybody out," Caitlin said. She gave you her best puppy dog eyes, and if it was anybody else, you probably would have just said no. But because it was Caitlin, you gave in despite your better judgement.

That afternoon when you got out of training, you went straight home and immediately called Jen. You had hoped that she would convince you not to go, but instead, she had fully agreed with Caitlin. You hated hearing how it was a good idea to bond with the women you'd be spending the next two seasons of your career with. Once your contract was over, you could go somewhere else, but for now, you were stuck at Arsenal.

A lot of things had changed since you left. The changes may not have seemed like much to people who had been around, but they had definitely taken you by surprise. The big one had been Caitlin and Lia. Caitlin had been clinging to Katie's side when you arrived, and Lia was stuck by Lia.

Years before, you had been close with Lia, even closer than Lia and Leah were. Now, you just had Caitlin, who you had only befriended because of Lia. It hurt for the Swiss woman not to even look your way, but you couldn't imagine how it looked to her. You were sure that everybody had gotten Leah's side of the story, which you weren't calling bullshit, but you knew had to be biased.

"You look good. Leah's staring," Caitlin said as she nudged you.

"Whatever." You brushed off Caitlin's comment, but only to force yourself not to glance over at the blonde. You couldn't let yourself get sucked over there, not when you knew where it would end up. Leah had an uncanny ability to complicate everything in your life, and she had been doing it for years now. Your relationship had been far from perfect, but you were happier then. Now, you were miserable while she was getting a chance to live her best life.

"(Y/n), I didn't think you'd come." Katie looked just as surprised as she sounded. Caitlin swatted at the Irish woman's chest, but Katie seemed unphased. "I'm glad you came. It's been boring without my favorite drinking buddy."

"Do you really want me to drink you under the table this early into the night?" you asked teasingly. Katie scoffed at that, but didn't deny that you usually did win the little competitions. You watched as Katie sent Caitlin a pleading look before Caitlin just nodded. Before you could react, Katie grabbed your hand and led you into the kitchen where the alcohol was.

You let Katie pick the alcohol, and thus, your competition began. You should have known better than to start drinking like this so early into the night, but you wanted to have fun. It had been so long that you believed that you deserved to have a good night out. Several shots later, and you found yourself having to help Katie stumble out of the kitchen.

"Katie, you promised you'd stop at 5," Caitlin huffed as she took her girlfriend from you.

"Hey, it's not my fault that she did doubles," Katie slurred. Caitlin glanced over at you, who just barely had a rosy tint to your cheeks. You didn't seem too out of it, so Caitlin left you there to make Katie sit down and eat something with the hope of sobering her up a bit. It couldn't have been more than maybe 30 seconds of you being alone for Leah to find her way over to you.

"I see that you're enjoying yourself," Leah teased. Your eyes narrowed at her, but your anger was fleeting. You couldn't hold onto any one emotion for too long before forgetting what exactly it was that you were feeling. "You're gonna be feeling that tomorrow."

"That's not your concern," you told her. Leah seemed a bit shocked by the snark in your tone. She shouldn't have been surprised by it, you had spoken to her in worse tones constantly by the end of your relationship. "Why are you over here? You told everybody that I ruined you. Nobody wants to talk to the woman who ruined them."

"(Y/n), I was hurt. You know that I lash out when I'm hurt, besides, I am much more mature than I was before," Leah said. She placed her hand on the small of your back, and it ignited something inside of you. Without an ounce of hesitation, you turned and tried to kiss Leah. "Hey, no, not like this. I want you, but I want you to want me back."

"Leah, it's complicated. I'm complicated now," you told her. Leah bit her lip and glanced at the bottle of alcohol just sitting on the table behind you. You followed her gaze and immediately knew what she was getting onto. "You want to be on my level?"

"I don't think I'd feel so bad if I was," Leah reasoned. You didn't like the thought of her needing to be drunk to want you, but the notion was gone as quickly as it popped into your head. Everything was fleeting, except for your desire to have Leah. You didn't necessarily want her sexually; you just wanted her close. If you had to crawl into bed and open your legs for that, then you were more than willing to do so.

The trip back to Leah's was a bit of a blur. Leah's place wasn't too far from Katie and Caitlin's, close enough for the two of you to walk there. The two of you had left fairly early into the night, but it was nearly 11:30 by the time that you had gotten inside. Neither of you seemed to care as you had both been guilty of stopping to kiss and feel the other up.

Your lipstick was smeared on Leah's mouth and neck by the time that you got back to her place. She paused as she caught a glimpse of herself, a little more disheleved than normal. Leah promptly turned her atttention over to you. You looked just as far gone as she did, pupils blown wide as you watched and waited for her to make another move on you.

"Come on," Leah said as she tugged you along with her. Leah tried to move quickly with you, not giving you a chance to take in the state of her home now that you were gone. She was scared that if the two of you stopped for too long, you would notice all of the little pieces of you that Leah had refused to give up.

The truth was that she had tried, and for a while, they had been gone. However, Leah had always kept the few boxes of trinkets and little things you left behind in her closet. Lia had begged Leah to throw it all away, but the blonde couldn't bring herself to do it. Eventually, she began hating the way that her house felt, so she slowly put all of your things back in their rightful places.

Leah kept the light in her room off, guiding you to the bed herself. She didn't think about you waking up in the morning and seeing anything, but Leah doubted that the two of you would be on speaking terms for a while after tonight. Any time that you let yourself get remotely close to Leah for a little, you always blanked everybody for about a week or two.

"Lee, it's dark," you said. Leah just hummed, neither of you stopping in your attempts to undress each other. You wanted to see Leah's body, but you weren't willing to pull yourself away from her to turn on the lights. You didn't need the lights on to know the look of concentration on Leah's face as the two of you ground against each other.

You could vividly imagine everything happening around you. This was far from the first time that you had closed your eyes and just tried to imagine all of the things you remembered about Leah. Now, it was much more real than before with Leah panting and moaning in your ear.

"I want to feel you. I want to be inside of you," Leah told you. You had never been glad to be laying down before in your life. There was no way that Leah wouldn't have known how her words would affect you. You were sure that Leah could feel the surge of arousal as it coursed through your body.

"Fuck me, Leah, please," you begged her. You pushed a needier tone than usual, letting Leah really hear every ounce of desperation inside of you. Leah groaned as she sat back on her knees. One of her hands slipped between your legs while the other went between her own.

Leah could just barely make out the twisting of your body in the moonlight. She was so much closer than you were, but Leah wanted to make you cum. She wanted to feel you clench around her fingers at least one more time. She didn't know whether or not she'd get another chance to touch you like this again, and so she tried her best to savor the moment.

…

The hangover from hell was the least of your problems whenever you had woken up the next morning. With Leah fast asleep next to you, you quickly snuck out of her home. It had once been your home too, but once again, you were running from it. A few quick phone calls to Arsenal's management staff about taking some time off for your mental health and a hasty plane ticket purchase later, and you were dead set on leaving the country.

Leah would be mad at you, as would Caitlin and everyone else, but you had to go. You watched as a text was sent out from management about you taking the next month off. Text after text began flooding in as you packed a bag. You didn't know how long you'd really be away for, but you just had to get the fuck away from London for a while.

"Jen? I know it's early for you, but I fucked up. I'm not over her, and I just need to clear my head for a couple of days. I swear that I won't be long, they're giving me the month, so I'll probably go back to Glasgow for a bit too. I just, I'll see you later." You had always hated leaving voicemails, but the words just poured from your mouth. You knew that your best friend was going to kill you when she saw you, but she'd also take care of you too.

[katiascraft]

"Him" | LN4

Parings: Lando Norris x bestie!reader.

Summary: Oblivious idiots to lovers. That's what Max said.

Word count: +2,7k.

Warnings: nooone just pure fluff and some language hehe. Not a native english speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author's note: AAAAAAA i loved writting this one 🥹 Dont forget to comment, like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

“You only say that because you fancy him, y/n. You can't play with me”Max said out of nowhere while talking about the whole Lando drama and his fourth championship at Danny Ric’s house. Your three have been best friends for quite some time now. Actually, you have been friends with most of the grid for a couple of years now. They were like family to you and recently, you moved countries to live and study in Monaco and be able to spend more time with your friends.

“What have you just said motherfucker?” you acted offended. Nethertheless it took you by surprise that he said such a thing when you have never talked about Lando and your feelings for him with him nor danny. But Max knew you too well to already know the whole story. Of course Danny laughen and you could feel the heat going up your face. You feel exposed so you try to cover up by drinking another sip from your glass of white wine. You thank god it was in the privacy of Danny's house and not some random bar for everyone to hear.

“Oh c’mon y/n, i think it’s pretty too obvious by now” max continued noticing the panic and surprise on your face.

“Yeah, it is obvious and cute to see how you drool, staring at him everytime he talks. And not to mention you eat him alive at races when he is all sweaty -” danny continued the torture but you stopped them both making them laugh.

“Just stop!” you said “you guys are impossible!” your face was red and anxiety took over you for a moment.you sighed defeated. “To be honest with you, yeah, I do like him. But lets be real, im nt even his type at all” you said remembering how he was kissing magui, that model he fucks now and the, kind of a situationship, in front of your fucking face the whole night a few weeks ago. “And even as impossible as it sounds, if there was an actual chance for me with him, we wouldn't work either. I'm complicated. And he doesn't see me like that. He never did. And i'm sure that won't change like ever” you added just convince yourself of everything you said. It was impossible, right? There was no chance in this universe for him to see you like that. You are so far from what he used to date. It's just an innocent crush. You’ll meet someone,right? You saw Max denying with his head.

“y/n, i know you are not the most confident human being i know but be fucking for real, you are not complicated. And everything you said it's nonsense. You are fun to be around, you make him laugh until he pisses himself, you give him his favorite things, you bake him cookies and pies, you listen to him when he is sad, you are like the bestest person next to him. And let me tell you, I have no doubts he is into you as much as you are. It's in your eyes guys. You love each other more fondly than you want to admit” he said leaving you speechless for a moment and with a mess of confusion around your head. You wanted to believe him but at the same time you can’t.

“Mic drop, sir” Danny said and they both laughed. You smiled but rolled your eyes in disbelief.

“I wish” you finally said, making Max roll his eyes.

“Two oblivious idiots, can you believe it danny?” Max said ironically and Danny followed him.

“I see it mate. It's sad. I wanna cry” he said.

“You guys are impossible." You declared to go back to your trivial talk about cats and australia barbecue.

(...)

It was a beautiful saturday. You were thankful Ria said yes to accompany you to buy a new outfit for tonight's party. Martin Garrix was in town and lando invited you all to his friend's show. Coffees in hand, you were chatting about everything and anything.

“So the plan is a sexy outfit just to impress your boy?” she teased and you rolled your eyes.

“Why is everyone so obsessed with the idea that I like lando? As if he would care what I wear or not” you said, a little irritated. You just wanted to conquer someone else tonight to forget about all of this and move one. You knew it was impossible that Lando liked you back so why be stuck in it? You were gonna dress up and doll up and conquer whoever you may please. That was your masterplan.

“Girl, you need to relax. I say it first hand: he cares a lot fucking much. He likes you. I just know.but you two are too dumb to accept it” she said raising her shoulders.

You felt so confused once again. These were Lnados friends who knew him just like you did. First it was Max and Danny and now it is ria. You didn't want to fool yourself. And at the same time you wanted him to know for the longest time. You wanted him to notice you. And you also knew him and you knew how he is with girls and if he liked you then he would've told you by now.

“Ria, dont play with me” you begged. Concern showed in your voice. She gave you a gentle hug by your side.

“I won't ever do that to you y/n. I would never in a million years forgive myself if I did. You're my friend and I just want you to be happy. Believe me” her voice was soft and sweet. You just smile and change the subject. You didn't want to discuss this anymore. Nor did you think you could handle it.

(...)

Saturday night finally came and so did the margaritas you so dearly adore when you needed to forget reality. You were pretty tipsy by now. You met Franco Colapinto and you didn't even know he was invited but oh god he was so fun to be around. You've Been talking to him the whole night about whatever to be honest.and yeah, he looked really hot tonight by the way. You felt lucky he even looked at you and so you followed around.

You bumped into Max at the bar table after ordering yet another margarita. He looked at you a little tipsy as well.

“So you replaced lando for an argentine prince, huh?” He teased you.

“Oh shut the fuck up verstappen. Were in public” you said going back to the barman who was handing you your precious margarita drink. He rolled his eyes.

“Be careful. Lando's not happy” he said and disappeared into the people holding his vodka with red bull. Weird mix but he was loyal to his employers i guess.

You came back to where Franco was waiting for you to be back. He looked so cute under the lights in that white shirt he was wearing. And speaking of white shirt you saw Lando talking to him. You cursed yourself right there. You may or may not have ignored him the whole night. But you just couldn't face him after what all your friends said. You just didn't want to be tempted by his pretty shiny green eyes and his mouth. Oh what you'd give up just to taste his lips.

“Oh there is the missing girl,” Lando said, looking at you when you arrived and smiling nervously. The tension established between you two even Franco noticed it.

“Guess it is my turn to go to the bar. Be right back, guys” he said and left the two of you alone. You took a sip from your glass avoiding his sight.

“What's wrong with you?” he said kind of offended? Anger could be clearly heard in his voice. You sighed not knowing what to answer.

“What do you mean lando?” you decided to play the fool. You wanted to run away. His eyes were intimidating you.

“One day we watch movies together and bake cookies and the other you ignore me for several days and even flirt with another dude straight to my face?” what he just told you took you by surprise. You frowned, confused at his statement. The tension was burning your throat. He got closer and so you finally faced him. You looked at him. His face straight and his eyes dark with a little sparkle. You couldn't read what was going on inside him. Maybe he was just as confused as you were. “You look too pretty in that dress to be talking to him and not me” you could breathe his warm breath tasting tequila mixed with lemon. You swallowed hard. Your insides exploded. what was happening? He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him. His touch burns your skin sending shivers down your spine. This was actually happening? Your hands were shaking. You really thought about what to tell him. A devilish smile appeared in his face when he thought he left you speechless. But you weren't ready to let him win.

“Well, for your information, I'm single and I can talk to wherever my vagina pleases so that shouldn't be none of your business. Also, why would I talk to you if you have been talking with more than one girl tonight? I'm a selective lady. What can I say” you smiled innocently.

He bit his lip. He tightened his grip around you. More possessive. More irresistible. Your innocent smile turns into a triumph smile. ”so if you dont mind i’ll keep talking to Franco and luckly fuck him. Have a good night Landito” you said provocatively leaving lando hanging into his words as you pulled away and walked away from him. His brain is malfunctioning.

And as you promised you kissed and fucked Franco Colpinto that night.

(...)

It was already the next sunday and Lando had disappeared. There was nowhere to be found. He didn't reply to your texts nor your calls. He became just dead silent. That made you feel even more confused than you already were. What did it mean what happened at the party? What were his intentions? Why didn't you kiss him? You were torn into feeling guilty and stupid at the same time. Like you had an actual chance with him but you didn't take it. And you didn't even know why. You hated yourself so much for that. How stupid.

Max, Lando's best friend, invited you over along with Pietra and Lando. You were cooking some vanilla flavored cookies with chocolate chips. The famous crumble cookies. Lando has been pretty much ignoring you. And you have been really quiet. Very unusual both ways. The tension was irritating. Max and Pietra tried to play it cool but it was very uncomfortable. When Lando came back from the bathroom, Max took him into the terrace and you stayed with pietra inside in the kitchen doing your stuff.

“Babe, what happened between you two?” she sounded genuinely worried. You sighed stressed.

“To be honest with you, I don't know. After a weird moment at the party last Saturday, he has been ust ignoring me. I didn't know if he was even alive if Max didn't invite us here. Very childish in my opinion but what can I say? I Didn't face him either.” you explained and pietra frowned her eyebrows.

“You need to talk honey. You need to tell him” she said, sobbing in your arms. You pressed your lips together looking outside through the glass door straight to lando seriously talking to max.

(...)

After the worst and most traumatic hang around with Max and Pietra - the cookies were great by the way - Lando offered to give you a ride and you said yes. Probably the worst decision of your life because the tensi could be cut by a knife and it was hard to breathe of how dense the air was inside the car. His radio was playing Jmaes Blunt ‘you’re beautiful". It was one of your favorite songs. How pretty was to you to enamour someone just by existing in the subway going to work or going back from university. You just romanticized that idea. You started mumbling the lyrics in a whisper just to not disrupt his comfort. But after a few seconds he turned off the radio and you looked at him weirded out.

“I can't do this anymore,” he said, parking his car on the side of the road. Anxiety kicked you. You licked your lips looking at your hands and he was just starting to nowhere outside his car window.

“I really like you y/n. I am in love with you in fact. And dim so stupid i realized about it when i saw you with Franco kissing. His hands touching you grossed me out. It felt wrong because that should've been me - not him” he finally looked at you. What he just said took you by surprise and you wanted to cry but holded inside. You looked back at him. The knot in your throat was unbearable.

“We are idiots,” you said, remembering what Max said to you a couple of months ago.”Because I'm in love with you. I was too afraid to tell you and ruin what he had. Losing you terrifies me. And to be honest I just thought you wouldn't even look at me that way. I never felt pretty enough for you, I don't know why” when he heard you say that last sentence his heart sank.

“I always felt you were out of my league to be honest. Please, y/n, you're gorgeous, and funny as fuck, and intelligent, and sweet and such a great person. You're almost perfect. Don't ever talk about you like that. I'm just an idiot. A normal stupid ass dude. Don't compare yourself like that ever again” he said feeling a little guilty for you to feel that way even though it was not his fault.

You gave him a soft smile nodding.”you know? I can't believe every single friend of yours told me for months that you liked me and I just couldn't believe it. How dumb I gotta be. So I'll fight the intelligent compliment of yours” you said, making him laugh.

“But let's be honest, who thinks straight when they are in love?” he said with the most precious smile and sparkly eyes looking at you so fondly. You knew you had heart eyes in your eyes.

“Fair point” you said, smiling widely. And you giggled out of nervousness. He did too.

Two kids in love. You dreamed about this day for so many years. You just hoped that it wasn't another dream because it felt like one. And without asking, Lando took you out of your self doubt and inner conversion pressing his lips into yours in the most felt kiss you have ever given. The man that you are Lando norris. You cupped his face on your hands making the kiss more intimate and passionate. A kiss you two wanted to give for so long. You said everything in that kiss. You just knew this was it. This was the start of the most exciting and magical love story. And it was yours.

It was him. It has always been him. Lando. Your best friend. Him and no one else by your side.

(...)

Your eyes filled with tears of joy. You were at the wedding of one of your best friends: max verstappen. Lando was holding your hand gently and so dearly. They were speaking their vows and everything was so emotional. You were such a sensitive soul. Lando loved that about you. So pure in emotions. So vulnerable yet so strong and brave. That was you and watching the isle,he knew it was you who was gonna be there with him when the moment came around. The bride kissed the man and you two cheered the new wife and husband of the group. You looked at Lando for a moment knowing he was the love of your life and it was gonna be you two there one day.

What you did not expect was to take in your own hands the wife’s bouquet announcing you were next in line to get married. Youcelebrated in happiness and laughter around your friends and Lando. You kissed him so fondly.

“I love you bestie” you said between his lips grabbing him by the neck, the bouquet in one of your hands.

“I love you bestie, forever” he said with heart eyes hugging you looking at you with love in every fiber of his body.

“Forever and always” you assured him.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any idea my inbox is open so send your requests!

[camzeecorner]

Promiscuous 18+

Working for Mr. Sturniolo always seemed straightforward. He was often away, and even when he was home, our paths rarely crossed. Despite his youth, he maintained himself impeccably, and I admired that about him. Our interactions were limited to polite greetings, nothing more. I’d been his maid for three years, having taken over after he fired the previous one for stealing. A year into my employment, he invited me to live with him, a gesture of trust that I accepted without hesitation. At 22, living alone, the prospect of some company was appealing.

Living with him was uncomplicated. His demanding schedule kept him out of the house most of the time. I established a routine, ensuring I worked around the times he entertained guests. The house was expansive, requiring significant time and effort to maintain. Yet, I enjoyed my work. Mr. Sturniolo wasn’t difficult or strict. He had an air of mystery and sophistication that intrigued me, and I found myself looking forward to the rare moments our paths did cross.

“Valoree? My office, please.” Mr. Sturniolo's voice echoed down the hall. He only ever called me to his office when he had important information to share. Walking quickly, I approached his large door, knocking three times before hearing his voice granting me entry.

“Sir, you called for me?” I asked, stepping in. I stood a solid five feet away from his desk, knowing he didn’t like hovering. He cleared his throat, shutting his laptop before readjusting his blazer.

“Yes, I did. How’s your day?” he asked calmly, his face a mask of professionalism.

I offered him a warm smile. “Very good, sir, thank you for asking. And yours?” I returned the kind question.

“It’s uh...” he glanced to the side, as if searching for the right words. “It’s not too bad. Very slow, if I’m honest.” He smiled softly at me, a rare sight that made my heart skip a beat.

I nodded, acknowledging his words, and stood still, waiting for his next move. His eyes lingered on my small frame, making me feel both exposed and intrigued. “Valoree... the reason I called you in was because...” He paused, looking at me with an intensity that made my palms sweat.

I began to shift on my feet, growing increasingly nervous under his scrutinizing gaze. His eyes narrowed slightly, and my heart started to race. Had I done something wrong?

“Don’t be so nervous, doll... just sending an invitation your way.” He smiled, flashing his perfect white teeth, and chuckled lightly. My shoulders slumped in relief, and I exhaled a sharp breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“Oh! How wonderful to hear. Thank you, sir,” I replied, my voice tinged with excitement.

“No problem, Val. I’ll have everything you need to know emailed to you before 7. Don’t worry about any preparations; it’s all on me. My treat.” His words were reassuring, and I couldn’t help but smile widely.

“Yes, sir, thank you,” I said, nodding enthusiastically.

He smiled back at me, his eyes softening. “Thank you, Valoree. You’ve been good to me and my home. I wanted to return the favor with a nice dinner.”

My heart warmed at his words, and I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. He was a true charm, and he knew it. “Thank you, sir,” I replied, feeling a mix of gratitude and anticipation.

“You’re welcome, doll.” His voice was low and smooth. He always called me doll, saying I resembled one. I found it both corny and cute, a charming quirk of his. Just then, his phone chimed, signaling an incoming message. “I’ve gotta take this, shut the door on your way out,” he instructed.

As I left his office, I couldn’t help but think about him. Back in my room, I lay on my bed, thoughts of Mr. Sturniolo swirling in my mind. I couldn’t deny that I found him incredibly attractive. He was undeniably handsome, and the fact that he had two identical brothers only added to his allure. I had met his triplet brothers briefly, just enough for a bit of small talk, but nothing more.

I often imagined what it would be like if Mr. Sturniolo and I were friends. My interactions were mostly limited to his coworkers who came over in the mornings before heading out on business trips with him. I knew my life was small and lonely, but sometimes I thought it was better this way. It kept things simple, even if it meant longing for something more.

A small knock echoed at my door. I pulled myself off the bed and hurried to answer it. Opening the door, I was surprised to find my boss standing there. "Hey, I’ve gotta run somewhere really quick. Get dressed and I’ll meet you out front," he said hurriedly before disappearing as quickly as he had arrived.

He had never invited me to join him on his errands before. Excitement and curiosity bubbled up inside me as I quickly shut the door and walked to my closet. I picked out a nice sundress and my white pumps. The white dress contrasted beautifully against my smooth brown skin as I slid it on, carefully straightening the bottom to ensure it looked perfect.

I took a moment to look at myself in the mirror, smoothing down the fabric one last time before grabbing my purse. My heart was racing with anticipation. What could be so urgent that he needed me to come along? I stepped out of my room and made my way to the front of the house, where he was already waiting by the car.

He glanced up as I approached, a small smile playing on his lips. "You look nice," he remarked, opening the car door for me. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks as I thanked him and slid into the passenger seat.

As he drove, I couldn't help but steal glances at him. His focus was on the road, but there was a certain intensity in his eyes that made me wonder what was on his mind. The silence between us was comfortable, yet charged with unspoken words. Finally, he broke the silence. "I hope you don't mind me dragging you out like this. I just thought... it might be nice to have some company for a change."

His words caught me off guard, and I found myself smiling. "I don't mind at all," I replied softly. "It's a nice change of pace."

We continued driving, the cityscape giving way to more open roads. I couldn't help but feel a sense of adventure, not knowing where we were headed but trusting him completely.

We arrived roughly about 13 minutes later, stopping in front of a tall, imposing warehouse-like building. Mr. Sturniolo unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door with a swift, confident motion. "I’ll be back in about 3 minutes, just sit tight. If someone approaches you, just say you work for me," he instructed, his voice firm yet reassuring as he began to walk away. I smiled and nodded at his words, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness. "Yes, sir," I replied calmly, watching him disappear into the shadows of the building.

As I sat in the car, the minutes seemed to stretch on longer than they should. The dimly lit surroundings and the eerie silence of the warehouse district made me feel uneasy. I glanced around, trying to distract myself, but my mind kept drifting back to Mr. Sturniolo's instructions. Suddenly, I noticed a figure approaching from the corner of my eye. My heart rate quickened as the person drew nearer. Remembering his words, I took a deep breath and prepared myself to say I worked for him, hoping they would pass by without incident.

The figure continued to approach, and I could now make out more details—a tall, burly man with a stern expression. He stopped right next to the car, peering inside. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice gruff and suspicious.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure. "I work for Mr. Sturniolo," I said as confidently as I could muster. The man scrutinized me for a moment, his eyes narrowing.

"Alright," he finally said, stepping back. "Just making sure. This area isn't safe for strangers."

With that, he walked away, and I let out a sigh of relief. Moments later, Mr. Sturniolo returned, a small, satisfied smile on his face. "Everything alright?" he asked as he got back into the car.

"Yes, sir," I replied, feeling a strange mix of relief and excitement.

When we arrived back home, Mr. Sturniolo parked the car and turned to me. "Remember, dinner is at 8 PM. Everything you need to know has been emailed to you," he reminded me before heading inside.

I nodded, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. "Yes, sir. Thank you."

I went straight to my room, eager to see what awaited me. As soon as I opened the door, my eyes were drawn to the beautiful dress laid out across my bed. A note was placed delicately on top, reading, "For tonight - Mr. Sturniolo."

I picked up the dress, admiring its elegance and the thoughtfulness behind the gesture. With a smile, I started getting ready for what promised to be an unforgettable evening.

As the clock ticked closer to 8 PM, I finished getting ready, carefully putting on the dress Mr. Sturniolo had left for me. It fit perfectly, making me feel more confident and excited for the evening.

I made my way downstairs, where Mr. Sturniolo was already waiting. He looked up as I entered the room, a pleased smile spreading across his face. "You look stunning, Valoree," he said, his eyes lingering on me for a moment longer than usual.

"Thank you, sir," I replied, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks.

We headed to the dining room, where a beautifully set table awaited us. The ambiance was perfect, with soft lighting and a hint of music playing in the background. As we sat down, I couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation for what the night would bring.

Throughout dinner, Mr. Sturniolo shared the information he had mentioned earlier, discussing various topics and plans. The conversation flowed easily, and I found myself more drawn to him with each passing moment. Dinner began with a light appetizer, and as we started eating, Mr. Sturniolo poured us each a glass of wine. He raised his glass, and I followed suit.

"To a successful evening," I echoed, clinking my glass against his. The wine was delicious, and it wasn't long before I felt its warmth spreading through me.

"So, Valoree, tell me more about yourself," he began, his tone casual but genuinely interested. "We've worked together for a while, but I feel like there's still so much I don't know about you."

I smiled, feeling a bit more at ease with the alcohol loosening my nerves. "Well, there's not much to tell, really. I grew up in a small town, always dreamed of coming to the city. I guess you could say I'm still adjusting to the fast pace of it all."

He nodded thoughtfully. "The city can be overwhelming, but it has its charms. What's been the biggest adjustment for you?"

"Probably the noise," I admitted with a laugh. "Back home, it was so quiet at night. Here, there's always something happening. It took me a while to get used to it."

"I can imagine," he said, refilling our glasses. "But you've adapted well. You're doing a great job here."

"Thank you, sir," I said, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the wine. "I really appreciate that."

"Please, call me Chris," he insisted, a playful smile on his lips. "We're off the clock now."

"Alright, Chris," I said, testing the name on my tongue. It felt strange but good. "What about you? What's your story?"

He leaned back in his chair, swirling his wine thoughtfully. "Oh, where to begin? I grew up here, in the city. Always knew I wanted to go into business. It's been a long journey, but I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"Any regrets?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Not many," he said after a moment. "But if I had to pick one, it would be not taking enough time to enjoy the little things. Life moves fast, and sometimes I forget to slow down."

We continued to talk, the conversation flowing easily as the wine continued to flow. We shared stories, laughed, and learned more about each other. I found myself drawn to his confidence, his intelligence, and the way he seemed to genuinely care about what I had to say.

As the night wore on, we both became a bit more relaxed, our words slurring slightly as the alcohol took its toll. At one point, he reached across the table, his hand brushing against mine. "I'm really glad we did this, Valoree," he said softly. "It's been a long time since I enjoyed myself this much."

"Me too," I replied, my heart racing at his touch. "It's been a wonderful evening."

We continued to talk, our voices growing softer as the night deepened. The connection between us felt stronger with each passing moment.

“Why don’t we go to my room. It’s much more comfortable in there” He spoke suddenly breaking off my thoughts.

“Oh- okay,” I giggled slightly, the alcohol in my system making me giggle more than usual. I got up, stumbling over my feet a little. We headed into his room through the wide, large doors. He stepped aside, letting me enter first. His room was simple yet inviting, decorated in shades of grey, white, and black. It was casual, just like him. The bed was neatly made, and the floor was spotless. A warm, comforting scent of burning wood filled the air, wrapping me in a sense of coziness.

"It's not often we're alone together," he began, moving beside me to catch a glimpse of my profile. "I've had a fantastic evening with you. It's been a while since I could just relax and have some fun."

I turned slightly to face him. "I'm thrilled you enjoyed your time as much as I did. Dinner was incredible," I beamed. "I didn't know you cooked." He chuckled softly. "I don't. Not often, really." I nodded.

"You look stunning as well." He gazed into my eyes, a fiery passion lighting up the room. I glanced down, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. I nervously bit my lip, a telltale sign of my unease.

"Thank you. You've got great taste," I playfully replied. He stepped closer, sweeping my curls over my shoulder. I observed his face as he inched nearer to me.

"I couldn't picture anyone else in this dress but you. A true doll," he whispered, leaning in by my ear, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine.

He pulled me closer to his body, wrapping his arm around my torso. “But you’d look much better…” he trailed off, his fingertips delicately tracing the edge of my ribbon. With a swift, practiced motion, he undid the knot, letting the dress flow as it slipped slightly. “With it off.”

I gasped as the cold air kissed my back, making me shiver. I jumped slightly, instinctively clinging to his warm body for comfort. His hands found my bare back, gliding down with a gentle but possessive touch.

“Just as I imagined. Even more beautiful.” He leaned his head back, locking eyes with me, his gaze filled with admiration and desire.

I opened my mouth, ready to speak, but the room was met with silence, too shocked to form words. I blinked a few times, trying to gather my thoughts. “Chris…” I began, my voice barely a whisper. Maybe it was all the alcohol he had consumed moments before that made him feel so powerful.

“Hm?” he questioned, his eyes dark with intent. His lips met my neck, quickly tracing kisses down to my shoulder. His lips were soft and delicate, treating my skin as if it were fragile paper. Carefully caressing me, he massaged my skin with a tenderness that sent shivers down my spine. I gasped from the sensation, his lips tracing around me, igniting a fire of pure lust within.

I pulled my body towards him, caught in the intensity of the moment. It was unprofessional to kiss your boss, I knew that, but I couldn’t stop myself. My heart raced as I found his face, gently pulling it closer.

I kissed him lightly, our lips brushing softly. “Was that okay?” I asked, my voice trembling with anticipation. “Sweetheart, that’s all I’ve been wanting all night,” he replied, his voice husky with desire.

I pulled my body towards him once more, our lips meeting in a passionate kiss. A soft moan escaped me as our tongues danced together, a fiery sensation enveloping us. Lost in the intensity, my fingers tangled in his hair, pulling gently. His hands explored every inch of my body, tracing my curves with a burning desire.

Slowly, I began unbuttoning his crisp white shirt, careful not to damage the delicate fabric. As I slipped it off, I couldn't help but admire his perfectly toned chest, the faint outline of a six-pack and the alluring V-line peeking from his trousers. He was breathtakingly beautiful.

I looked up at his face again, my eyes tracing every detail of his striking features. His chiseled jaw, the sparkle in his eyes, the way his lips curved into a gentle smile—all of it captivated me. I couldn't help but smile back at him. "You're very handsome," I whispered, my voice barely audible. His smile widened, and he brought his hand to my cheek, his touch gentle and warm. "Thank you," he murmured, before pulling me in for another kiss.

Our lips met, moving in perfect harmony, each kiss deepening our connection. Suddenly, I felt his hands slide under me, lifting me effortlessly. I gasped, caught off guard by his strength and the sudden movement.

He carried me effortlessly, his strength evident in the way he held me close. I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling the warmth of his body against mine. He walked us to the bed, gently laying me down. His eyes never left mine, filled with a mix of desire and tenderness. He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, "I want to make this moment unforgettable." His words sent shivers down my spine. As he began to explore my body with his hands and lips, every touch felt electric, igniting a fire within me. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of us, lost in each other.

He began trailing light feather like kisses down my body. Placing each kiss with love I couldn’t help but feel the wetness between my legs. I bit my lip suppressing the sound.

He placed a kiss right above my heat, his lips leaving a trail of fire on my skin. His fingers moved slowly, teasingly, towards my folds. I couldn't help but thrust my hips slightly, desperate for any touch. "Be patient, doll, okay? Can you do that?" he whispered, his voice husky with desire. I nodded eagerly, my breath hitching. "Yes, I can," I replied, my voice trembling with anticipation. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the moment, savoring every sensation he bestowed upon me. Each touch, each kiss, sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body, making me crave more.

He slowly pulled my legs apart, his eyes never leaving my face. I could feel the intensity of his gaze, a hard stare that made my heart race. Not daring to look at him, I swallowed hard, my breath catching in my throat. Suddenly, I gasped as I felt his mouth attach to my lips, the sensation overwhelming. "Oh—Chris... mm," I whimpered softly, the sound barely escaping my lips. It had been so long since I felt this way with a partner. Life had kept me so busy that I never had time to find someone, and now, every touch, every kiss, felt like a rediscovery of forgotten pleasure.

"Does that feel good, doll?" he asked, his voice low and filled with desire. I nodded, barely able to form any words, my breath coming in shallow gasps. I felt his hair brush against the inner part of my thigh, tickling me slightly and adding to the overwhelming sensations. My body twitched, overpowered by the intensity of the feelings. His tongue lapped up every drop that pooled from me, making it nearly impossible to keep my composure. His tongue moved at a fast pace, expertly working its magic. I sighed deeply, the pleasure coursing through me like a wave, each stroke of his tongue sending shivers down my spine.

I felt his fingers enter into me slowly. Gasping at the feeling i exhaled loudly. “Oh my.. Chris please. Please don’t stop.” I begged and whimper pathetically. I tugged on his hair as he sucked at flicked at my clit. His fingers pushing in and out of me like a machine.

He rubbed my clit slowly in small circles. As he began working his fingers I felt small kisses being placed on my thighs. We were truly making love.

I was so close to coming undone, I was sure he could tell by the way my legs shook slightly. As I felt my legs begin to close instinctively, he grabbed me with his free hand, firmly forcing them to stay open. A whimper escaped my lips, my mouth hanging open as I struggled to hold back. The tension in my body built up, every nerve ending on fire, as his touch drove me closer to the edge.

"Chris, Chris, Chris," I chanted his name over and over, my voice growing more desperate with each repetition. My breaths came heavily and hard, my chest rising and falling rapidly. Suddenly, I felt the inside of my stomach explode with a rush of intense pleasure, the sensation radiating outwards. Every ounce of tension that had built up within me released all at once, leaving me trembling and breathless, my body finally succumbing to the overwhelming ecstasy.

I sighed, beginning to catch my breath. I sat up slightly, resting my body on my elbows. I looked at Chris as he licked his lips, savoring the taste. "Tastes sweeter than I imagined, doll," he chuckled. I smiled at him and wiped my forehead. "I'm glad you enjoyed that as much as I did." I gazed into his eyes, which sparkled with charm as he smiled at me. He pulled my face closer to his and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. "I'll go run you a bath. When you're out, I'll have a change of clothes laid out. Sleep in here with me tonight," he explained.

I couldn't help but smile, truly grateful for him and every experience he had shown me tonight. "Thank you, you don't have to do all that. And I can stay in my room, it's totally fine." He shook his head in protest. "No, I want you here with me. I just want to make sure you get a good rest and feel better."

I walked to the bathroom and sank into the tub, letting the warm water envelop me completely. The soothing soap bubbles caressed my skin, and I felt every muscle in my body relax. I had never been the type of girl to go crazy over love, but Chris had shown me something different. His gentle and caring tenderness made me realize how wonderful it feels to be treated with such love. As I lay there, soaking in the warmth, I couldn't help but feel grateful for him and the beautiful moments we shared.

𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚ 𐙚₊˚⊹ 𐙚₊˚

Tag list - @shaquilles-0atmeal @monroesturnns @blahbel668 @mattssluttywaist @jetaimevous

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Wrong Person (College AU!)

Hockey player!Cregan Stark x Reader, Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Aemond's girlfriend has a group project with the man he hates the most, Cregan Stark.

Warning: abuse, domestic violence, alcohol consumption, implied smut, implied fighting, smoking, angst; characters generations/ages don't quite make sense but basically everyone is 20 in this

Word Count: 4.7k

Masterlist

A/N Hey guys, I know its been a while. Some of you may have figured out I stop posting as much when school picks up but here’s something I’ve been slowly piecing together

Taking a deep breath, I knocked on Aemond’s door. Softly, but not so soft he would miss it. Immediately the door swung open and I was met with Aemond’s eternally neutral expression. I felt my own heart sink as he yet again didn’t greet me with a smile. “Hey,” I greeted shyly, feeling my lips quirk up into a smile despite how disappointed I repeatedly found myself.

“Hey,” he greeted in return, stepping aside to let me through. I walked past him, finding his dorm just as I always did. It was surprisingly clean for a guy’s college dorm but Aemond was pretty tidy. Coming up behind me, he gently lifted my bag off my shoulder, placing it on the desk chair before moving me towards his bed.

I suddenly found myself wishing Criston, his roommate, was here. “Oh I actually need my-”

“What?” Aemond snapped, cutting me off.

I stared up at him for a second, trying to register just how angry he was. Finding no real, threatening anger I decided to answer him. “It’s just, I, uh I have to wrap up something quick for that project. Cregan just-”

Aemond scoffed, rolling his eyes. He walked around me, flopping onto his bed with an annoyed expression. “All I fucking hear is about Cregan fucking Stark and your project. You’ve been doing this project for like two months.”

I found my arms wrapping around myself but stopped. Aemond hated when I did that. “Stop acting like I’m gonna hurt you!” he’d say. “I’m sorry but it’s a semester long project,” I explained for the hundredth time.

“I don’t see why you had to partner with him,” Aemond grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest petulantly.

“I know, but there were no other seats.” We repeated the same conversation we’ve had dozens of times throughout this semester.

Walking into Tyrell Hall, I checked my phone. One minute until class started. Cursing, I rushed up to the second floor, quickly locating classroom 221B. Entering the room, I let out a huff seeing that every seat was filled. Scanning the room for a glimpse of an open seat, I observed my classmates. I waved to the few I knew, girls from my freshman year residence hall, some people who ran in Aemond’s circle, a few I didn’t know, and then the hockey team. They all sat in the rear corner of the room, with the only seat left being right next to their captain, Cregan Stark. Glancing at the professor, I found her looking at me expectantly so I reluctantly headed to the back of the room, trying to disappear into my hair as I walked past the hockey team.

“Now that we’re all here,” the professor started, “make sure to get to know your desk partner. You’ll be working with them all semester.” Shit.

I looked to my left, finding Cregan already giving me a shit eating grin. “Oh this is gonna be fun,” he smiled, knowing how much Aemond hated the athletes.

Aemond just got quiet, biting his lip as he looked down at his crossed arms. “C’mon, don’t be mad,” I begged, getting up on the bed. I no longer thought about it. We had been through this routine so many times I just acted. I laid on his bed, practically on top of him as I wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head on his chest. “I hate it too but it’s only for one semester.”

Aemond huffed, uncrossing his arms so he could lay one across my shoulder, nestling me further into his chest. He didn’t say a word, rather he just looked at me. His expression wasn’t expectant but I knew what he wanted. Pushing my body up, I connected my lips to his. He immediately escalated it, turning so he could place one hand on my jaw, the other on my waist as he moved to be on top of me.

Managing to pull away slightly, I looked up at him, his lips still so close I could feel his labored breath. “Aemond, I want to, I really do,” I tried to keep him from getting mad, “but I have-”

“Is this about your project?” he interrupted me, still so close I could feel the sharpness of his breath as he got angrier.

“No,” I assured quickly. “I have a history assignment. Besides, doesn’t Criston get back from class soon?”

“I don’t care,” he said, brushing his nose against mine. “Here,” he said, leaning over me to his bedside table to grab his phone. He typed out a quick message, only briefly showing it to me before tossing it back onto his bedside table. “You can do your work tomorrow morning before class.” His words phrased as a suggestion but holding the weight of a command. He connected his lips to mine again, wasting no time slipping his hand up my shirt.

~

Sitting in class, I tried my best to ignore Cregan. The first half of class was always dedicated to lecture, with the second half going to working on our project. I was keenly aware of Cregan’s eyes flickering toward me every few moments as well as Aemond’s friends a few rows ahead. I just kept my gaze firmly on my notes and the professor’s slides.

Finally, the professor reached the end of her slides. “Okay, that wraps up today’s lecture. Turn to your partner and continue working on your projects. Remember: you should be submitting an outline to me by Monday.”

As I turned towards Cregan, making sure to keep my hair covering my neck, I caught a glimpse of Aegon’s watchful eye. Remembering Aemond, I turned to Cregan’s wolfish grin, refusing to return it. Undeterred, he leaned closer to me. “Hey, I saw you were working on the doc at five a.m. What were you doing up at that hour?” he asked good-naturedly.

“Oh, I couldn’t get to it last night so I woke up early to work on it,” I shrugged. I tried my best not to dwell on the fact that he had noticed that. And judging by his furrowed brows, I tried to ignore the fact that he was concerned about me. “Why were you up at that hour?” I returned, immediately feeling guilty for engaging him.

Cregan’s smile widened. “I was up for hockey practice and got the notifications. Speaking of which, are you coming to the game tonight?”

I sent him a look. “I think you know the answer to that.”

Cregan’s lips fell into a pout. He actually pouted at me like a dog. “C’mon, I want the girl who’s carrying me through this project there.” I just let out a breathy laugh, trying to dismiss his insistence, but thoughtlessly moved my hair, exposing the hickies Aemond had made a point to leave. Beside me, Cregan’s eyes widened. “Woah,” he exclaimed. I felt embarrassment consume me and I wanted the ground to swallow me whole in that moment as I quickly replaced my hair back where it was. “Wow, someone wants everyone to know you have a boyfriend,” Cregan chuckled.

“Cregan,” I began, ready to tell him off. The mortification must have been written all over my face because his expression morphed into silent sympathy as I looked at him.

He cleared his throat, looking down at his notes for a second before turning his attention to my laptop screen. “So where are we on the outline?” he asked. He looked back up, meeting my gaze and I gave him a soft smile of thanks before returning to the project.

~~

Cregan looked up at the stands full of students. Peering in the student section, he was disappointed but unsurprised to find the stands void of his health sciences partner.

“C’mon man, you had to know she wasn’t coming,” Benjicot Blackwood, Cregan’s best friend, interrupted his thoughts. “You know Aemond would never let her come.”

Cregan shrugged. “He’s not in charge of her. She could come.”

“Cregan,” Benji stopped his best friend, becoming very serious for once. “You know he basically controls her every move right? You had to have noticed. She basically hasn’t talked to anyone except Aemond and his friends since like October last year.”

Cregan stopped to think. Now that he thought about it, he realized that she had used to be one of the most well liked people at the university. But now, she really only had a reputation for being Aemond fucking Targaryen's girlfriend. He couldn’t believe that she of all people even looked at that silver haired prick twice.

Seeing his best friend’s dismay, Benji felt bad knowing that Cregan had had a crush on the girl since he first saw her freshman year. “Hey,” he caught his friend’s attention. “Larys told me Aemond and his little cult are going to Phi Gamma Delta tonight. Even if she isn’t there you could ‘accidentally’ spill some beer on Aemond.”

Cregan sent a mischievous look to his friend, a small smile quirking on his lips.

~

“So where are we going?” I asked Alicent as she curls my hair.

“Phi Gamma Delta,” she explained, putting down the hot wand and spraying hair spray all over me.

“Are the guys coming with us?” I asked, turning to her as she took the curling wand to her own hair.

“Yeah, Harwin is going to let the guys in,” Alicent explained, flawlessly curling her brown locks.

I stood up from her bed, going to my bag to grab my outfit. But as soon as I pulled it out, Alicent turned toward me with wide eyes. “Oh no, I already have something for you to wear so we can match,” she came up with on the spot.

“Thanks but I haven’t gotten to wear this since like first semester sophomore year,” I said, holding up the backless top. I didn’t say the quiet part out loud, I hadn’t worn it since Aemond and I got together.

“Yeah but I’m wearing a long sleeve,” Alicent said, standing up from her desk and holding up her sheer top.

“Another time,” I promised her. Grabbing my clothes, I headed for her bathroom, quickly changing into the top and my black jeans that I had cleaned beer off of so many times.

Entering the room again, Alicent had a slightly sour attitude as she finished off her hair. But I just ignored it, determined to have a good night as I got started on my makeup. Once the both of us were ready, we headed to Aemond’s room where all the guys were waiting for us.

I knocked, being louder this time so as to overcome the music that was already blasting. The door swung open, revealing Criston. “Hey!” he greeted the two of us excitedly. “The girls are here,” he announced to the very crowded dorm room.

Aemond pushed his way to the front of the room, a beer fueled smile on his face. But it dropped as soon as he saw me. My heart immediately sunk seeing his expression but he just grabbed my arm, dragging me into the dorm somewhat harshly. Before I could even speak, he was already barking orders at me. “Go grab a drink, I’ll talk to you in a second,” he spat. Disheartened and slightly scared, I went over to Criston’s desk which was lined with booze.

Aemond turned his attention to Alicent, seething. “I thought she was wearing that one long sleeve top,” he growled.

“I’m sorry, I tried to make her take it but she wouldn’t,” she defended. “I could’ve told her it was you insisting she wear it,” she threw back with a quirked brow.

Aemond just sent her a glare before going back to his girlfriend. “Hey,” he greeted, an arm slipping around my waist to bring me to face him. “Look, I’m sorry I got mad earlier its just… this top,” he said, tugging at the fabric, “is… well its basically a rectangle of fabric held together by one string,” he explained. His fingers now finding the back of my top, tugging at the string to where it almost came untied to make his point.

I averted my eyes, gaze flickered down, shame coursing through me. “I’m sorry, it’s just, I loved this top.”

“I know, baby. And I’m not trying to control what you wear just, keep close to me tonight. Not all the guys there will respect you,” he said, giving another tug to the string of my top before stepping away towards his friends.

Feeling slightly disoriented and embarrassed, I headed to the bathroom in order to fix the top before returning to the pregame, trying to forget the earlier conversation with cheap booze.

After a few more moments, Aemond had declared that it was time for us to all go to the frat. As we all headed over, Aemond had his arm slung across my shoulder. By the time we reached the house, I was shivering thanks to all my exposed skin, and slightly wishing I had listened to Alicent.

As soon as we entered, Alicent grabbed my hand, dragging me to the dance floor as the DJ started to play Super Bass. It wasn’t long after we had been jumping around on the dance floor that Aemond found me again, moving to stand behind me with one hand around my waist and the other holding a beer.

After a couple songs, I felt Aemond’s fingers tap on my hip before his lips came up behind my ear. “I’m gonna go out back for a smoke. Be safe,” he advised before taking his leave, a few of the guys following him upstairs out of the basement.

I just turned back to Alicent who seemed to relieved to not have anyone hovering around her so she could let loose. I laughed as her dancing became more wild and sloppy. That was until her eyes went wide and she was looking at the staircase leading out of the basement. Confused, I turned to find the entire hockey team filling the stairway, with Cregan Stark standing at the top of the staircase.

He looked around for a moment as he descended the stairs, before his eyes settled on me and a smile broke across his face. It was as if Aemond’s training kicked in or something because I had the sudden urge to go find him but something in me kept me firmly rooted to the ground. Maybe it was the beer and god knows what other sticky substances keeping my shoes on the floor of this frat basement.

Either way, it was too late to leave because Cregan was pushing his way through the crowd towards me until he towered over me. The dancing bodies of other students being no match for his hulking frame. He stooped down, bringing his lips closer to my ear. “Hi,” he greeted, pulling away with a bright smile.

“Hi,” I returned, not even bothering to try to reach up to reach his ear.

“Where’s your owner?” he asked sarcastically.

I sent him a look when he pulled away. He just laughed, bringing his lips to my ear again. “I kid. But seriously, I’m surprised he’s not attached to your hip making sure someone like me isn’t talking to you,” he teased.

This time he didn’t immediately stand up, allowing me to talk in his ear to answer. “He’s in the backyard. He’ll be out soon,” I answered.

“Well then I guess I have to make due with the time I have,” Cregan smiled. Before I could protest, his hand found mine, tugging me towards him. His grip was tight enough to move me, but not so tight that I couldn’t slip out if I wanted to.

I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help but move with Cregan, finding laughs building in my chest as I watched him dance. We were having a good time until all of a sudden Cregan got a serious expression on his face, standing straight up and looking toward the staircase. I didn’t even have time to follow his gaze before he grabbed my arm tugging me behind him.

“Hey! Wha-” I began to protest as I was whirled around but the words died in my throat as I realized why Cregan had gotten serious.

Currently pushing through the crowd was a murderous looking Aemond. Rather than rush to calm him like I probably should, I found myself cowering behind the hockey captain, clinging to his arm. “Stark!” Aemond barked across the crowded room, so loud everyone managed to hear it. “What the hell are you doing with my girlfriend?” he spat, getting in Cregan’s face.

“Nothing, we were just dancing,” he answered coolly. “Then you came down here looking like you wanted to murder someone.”

Aemond rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, maybe don’t dance with another guy’s girlfriend next time.” He turned his gaze to me, holding out his hand expectantly. “Come on, we’re leaving.”

The fear coursing through me was screaming at me to take his hand but something wouldn’t let my body move. Cregan sent a glance back towards me before turning to Aemond. “She doesn’t wanna go with you.”

“Stay out of this,” Aemond seethed. “This is none of your business.” He then looked at me expectantly again. “We’re going,” he spat.

By now the music had died down and everyone was looking at us. Glancing around, I saw both the hockey team and Aemond’s friends coming towards us, prepared to back up their guys. “Nah, I’m not letting her go with you,” Cregan declared. “Not until you calm down.”

That just seemed to ignite a fury in Aemond. “She’s my girlfriend, Stark,” he spat through gritted teeth. “She’s perfectly fine with me and I sure as hell am not leaving my girlfriend with any of you,” he nodded to the hockey team.

“Then why does she look terrified of you right now?” Benji interjected.

“Shut up, Blackwood,” Criston spat.

All of the guys started arguing, yelling at the others to shut up. Still behind Cregan, I snapped my head behind me as I felt a gentle hand brush against mine. Turning, I found Rhaenyra looking at me with a concerned, gentle look. I just stared at her for a moment before Alicent’s voice brought me back to the conflict.

“Enough!” she got in between Cregan and Aemond. “I’m taking her back to her dorm unless all of you,” she pointed at the guys on both sides, “want to leave.”

There were some grumbles but no one protested. “I’ll go with her too,” Rhaenyra offered.

Not letting the boys fight it out even more, I spoke up. “Yeah, we’re going home,” I agreed. Stepping away from Cregan, I shakily approached Aemond. He was looking at me like I had committed some serious sin against him. “I’m sorry,” I whispered softly. I tried to move past him but he grabbed my waist, pulling me into an aggressive kiss. I could taste the beer and smoke on his lips as he forced his lips into mine. And I had a sneaking suspicion his eyes were locked onto Cregan’s.

When he released me, I let out a shuddered breath as his hand rested on my hip. “We’ll discuss this tomorrow,” his voice was grave. But his hand came off my waist, as if giving me permission to walk away.

Nothing was really said as I left the frat with Alicent and Rhaenyra on my heels. They both tried to ask me multiple times if I was okay, to which I just nodded in agreement. My mind was too consumed playing out what had just happened. But as soon as we were within ten minutes of my dorm, I stopped walking and turned to the two girls behind me. “I’m good here if you guys wanna head home or back to the party. I appreciate you coming with me but I think I just need to be alone right now.”

They both sent each other a glance. “We’re not letting you walk alone at night,” Rhaenyra protested.

“I’ll be fine,” I insisted.

They both looked at each other reluctantly before looking toward me. “Okay but, call someone if you start to feel freaked out,” Alicent said.

“I will,” I agreed, before turning on my heel and walking away.

Immediately, I pulled out my phone, afraid to see what was on there. Opening it, I was first confronted with a text from Cregan.

Hey sorry about tn If he tries anything with you let me know and I’ll handle it

My heart melted reading his messages. I wanted to cry at how sweet he had been lately, mostly because Aemond had been anything but.

Going to our messages, I found nothing. I didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing. I’m sure my refusal to move would come up some way or another.

I swiped out of my messages with Aemond, going back to Cregan. Reluctantly, I held down on the message until the option to delete it popped up. My finger hesitated over the delete button before I hit it. Just like I had deleted all his flirty texts. Leaving nothing but the texts about our project.

~

The next morning, I was woken up by incessant banging on my door. Glancing quickly at the clock, I saw that it read eight a.m. Rushing to the door, I opened it without checking who it was because deep down, I already knew.

As the door flew open I immediately took a step back, finding Aemond practically glowing with fury. “What the hell was that last night?” he spat, storming into my room.

I backed up as he entered, the door slamming shut behind him. For the first time, I cursed the fact that my roommate went home every weekend. “Aemond, I’m-”

My words were cut off as he lunged forward, his hand coming to close around my throat. “You’re what?” he spat. “Sorry? Sorry for humiliating me? Making me look like an awful person?” But I hardly heard a word, too busy trying to process the fact that he had actually grabbed me by the throat and was choking me. But it seemed my silence angered him more as his fist became tighter and he pressed me up against the wall. My vision was beginning to fade as he crushed my windpipe even tighter. “You cowered away from your boyfriend behind Cregan fucking Stark! Do you know how that makes me look? This,” he said, referring to his hand around my throat, “is because of you. You make me out to be some abuser, fine. It can be that way,” he spat before dragging me to the floor.

I coughed and sputtered as I hit the ground. Hard. “I’m sorry,” I managed to gasp out through tears and desperate gulps of air. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Aemond stood over me, bending down to get in my face. “You’re damn right you weren’t thinking straight. I’ll see you Monday and you better have fixed this attitude by then,” he said before marching out of my room.

~

That entire weekend I just flipped between numbly trying to wrap my head around what happened and sobbing violently. Every time I caught a glimpse of my bruised neck in the mirror—Aemond’s fingers clearly marked in my skin—or thought about the feeling of his hand around my throat.

I stood in the bathroom, my skin blotchy from the tears and black and blue covering my neck. I had only just managed to start being able to look at myself without immediately dissolving into sobs when my phone rang. Hesitantly, I picked it up, finding Cregan’s name scrawled across my screen. After another moment of hesitation, I answered the call. “Hello?” I answered, immediately cringing at the hoarseness of my voice.

“Hey,” Cregan’s voice came over the phone, his concern apparent. “Are you okay?” His heart was racing as he heard the scratchiness in her voice.

I hesitated for a moment, trying to clear my throat but it was no use. Between the choking and nearly two days worth of sobbing, my voice was fried. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“No you’re not, I’m coming over,” Cregan informed, already getting up from his bed.

“Cregan,” I began to protest.

“You’re still in Benjen Hall 514, right?” Cregan asked.

I opened my mouth to protest but the words wouldn’t fall. So instead, I gave a reluctant confirmation.

“I’ll be over in five.”

I hung up the phone, going over to my bed and slinking onto it. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I should try to clean myself up and hide the hand print on my neck. But if I hod it, what life was I resigning myself to?

I didn’t have much time to act because there was a knock at my door. I found myself rushing to open the door, despite my resistance to being seen by anyone. But either way, I opened the door, quickly ushering Cregan inside before letting it shut again, once again hiding Aemond’s act from the world.

After observing my room for a moment, Cregan turned to me. “So what’s wrong?” he asked.

I realized I was looking at the ground, effectively hiding my face and neck. After a second of hesitation, I looked up, letting him see the bruises and tear stains. His eyes widened, his jaw even dropping as he saw my state. He just stared at me for a moment before he spoke hesitantly. “Did- did Aemond do that?” he asked, horror lacing his voice. I only nodded reluctantly.

I watched the shock turn to sympathy, to hurt, to finally anger. His jaw locked and his fists curled as he took a step away from me. “That little-” he couldn’t even finish his insult he was so angry. “Did you get my text? Why didn’t you call?”

“I-” I began but I was cut off my my cringe at the sound of my own voice. “I don’t know. The past few days have just been a blur.”

Cregan stepped towards me. I flinched as he came towards me to which he immediately stopped. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he swore. He took another hesitant step forward until he was gently grasping my shoulders. “I am however, gonna beat the shit out of that deadbeat boyfriend of yours. Or should I say, ex-boyfriend.”

“Cregan,” I began, my hands finding his chest. “I-” I didn’t even know what I wanted to say. I just broke down into sobs as I fell into his chest. In response, he just hugged me tightly, running his fingers through my hair.

“Hey, it’ll be okay,” he hushed me. “I swear I’ll be right back.”

~~

Cregan cringed as he knocked on room 514. His knuckles were bloody but he didn’t care. Immediately the door swung open, revealing his health sciences partner. She immediately threw herself into his arms, much to the hockey player’s joy. He hugged her tighter as her legs came to wrap around his hips. Entering the threshold of the room, he let the door fall shut behind him as her feet fell back down onto the ground. “No one’s ever gonna hurt you again,” Cregan swore, his forehead resting against hers. “I promise you.”

Masterlist

[peppertoastuniverse]

more than a late night snack – gojo satoru chapter 9: donuts

contents: gojo satoru x reader, really bad flirting attempts, swearing, FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF, gojo calls you babe, forced proximity summary: after returning from kyoto, gojo asks you to sneak out with him to get late night donuts. after he gives you a thoughtful gift, you can't help but admit that he makes you happy wc: 7.7k

he tsks impatiently. “just say it!” he stomps his foot irritatedly, leaning closer to you. “s’okay, i know you’re shy. here, here – i’ll start – i missed you when i was away, babe.” he says ruffling the back of his hair, the white strands picking up the artificial fluorescence of the street lights above. it looked as if he were glowing. “thanks.” “no! that’s not what you’re supposed to say!!!” throwing his hands up exasperatedly, deflating entirely at your words. “you’re so bad at this, babe,” he groans, his arm settling around your shoulders.

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gojo groans as he stretches out on the too small shinkansen seat, his bored blue eyes failing to take in the rapidly moving landscape through the window. as he antsily bounces his leg up and down he couldn’t help but exhale dramatically. gojo just wanted to be in his room – to him nothing seemed like more of a punishment than being bored. after being forced to come back to kyoto to help plan for the “future of the gojo clan," his fuse was running dangerously short. tsking, he knew should have listened to himself and snuck out a few days earlier like he had planned to, but they kept him on a tight leash — unfortunately some things never change. though gojo had to give himself some credit, having endured two painfully boring days into his week-long stay before causing any trouble. he was lucky to escape when he did but just he wished he could've saved himself the trouble of having to sit in those stupid meetings listening to dull clan politics and old people waffle on about outdated ideals and nonsense standards.. the final straw was the lengthy discussion of the importance of the colour of this year’s ceremonial plates – after that meeting he knew he had to get out of there at any cost. taking his glasses off, he rubbed his eyes irritatingly – after everything he's been through, his terrible mood was warranted. but what added to his bad mood was the lack of a text from a certain someone. he sighs, irritation slowly melting away the closer he got to tokyo – the further away from the gojo estate the better.  looking at the darkening grey skies through the windows of the shinkansen, he closes his eyes to ease the pounding of his head. but a vibration in his pocket instantly puts a smile on his face and soothes the ache in his messy mind. hoping that it was you, he quickly grabs his phone to check his messages.

♡ grumpy lil babe ♡: gojo (8:33pm) gojo: yes my grumpy girl? ♡♡♡♡♡ (8:34pm) ♡ grumpy lil babe ♡: where are you? (8:39pm)

gojo smiles hopefully, was it getting hot in here or something? 

did you miss him? were you thinking about him while he was away? he hoped you did. placing his glasses back on his face, dark lenses hiding the growing hearts in his eyes. 

gojo: (,,♡ᵕ♡,,) OH WHY B DO YOU MISS ME I MISS U TOO IM ON THE (8:44pm) ♡ grumpy lil babe ♡: no (8:44pm) gojo: VERGE OF TEARS ALL THE TIME (8:45pm) ♡ grumpy lil babe ♡: stop it (8:45pm) gojo: DW IM ON MY WAY HOME (8:46pm) ♡ grumpy lil babe ♡: where are you? (8:47pm) gojo: ILL SEE U RIGHT AWAY WHEN I GET BACK PROMISE ( • ̀ω•́ )✧ (8:49pm) 

gojo watches as you type and stop, chuckling to himself. he suspects that you’ve either thrown your phone in embarrassment at his antics or was struggling to figure out what to say – most likely both. he could just imagine the cute way that you would flush, your defiant eyes juxtaposing the sweetness you tried to bury. were you hanging out with suguru and shoko in the common room right now? perhaps it was movie night, shoko would’ve probably chosen some sort of murder mystery or rom com, but he knew you preferred sci-fi. or maybe you were in your room at your desk, probably reading some novel that suguru recommended, too engrossed in the novel to turn on more lights. 

 ♡ grumpy lil babe ♡: omg dude where are you? (8:52pm) gojo: just left kyoto, clan shit i got you a souvenir (8:54pm ♡ grumpy lil babe ♡: its ok, dw abt me (8:55pm) gojo: I already bought it ur gonna luv it b ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻) (8:56pm

satisfied, he shuts his flip phone. adjusting his body to comfortably slump in his seat, he wondered how something so simple could drastically change his mood. taking a look at the time, he grins as he counts down the hours it takes for him to see you again. 

lying in bed you melt deeper into your covers as the night wanes on. the quiet of your room is only disturbed by you gently turning the page of the novel that suguru had lent you. you had chosen to go to bed early and you were surprised that your plans had for once come to fruition – it really was the perfect evening, quiet and relaxing. perhaps that was due to gojo’s absence –  it was almost too quiet when he went away. the lonely silence keeping you company in his place. you were growing accustomed to gojo’s larger than life presence, his laugher decorating your life with light. his once irritating and crude words morphing into fun and playful comments that would make you unexpectedly laugh. gojo had a tendency to conjure something more colourful and silly out of you – qualities that you thought you no longer had the capacity of, losing them the day that your sister died. but with him around, things just seemed more amusing, their corners less sharp and painful, his bright laugh cushioning you from the harshness of the world. and you hated to admit it. 

the vibration of your phone on your bedside table pulls you from your disgusting thoughts

but maybe that was him.. did he get bac - wait why did that matter? ughhh.

moving to hastily mark your place in your book, you roll over with curiosity to grab your phone. 

gojo: u up? (12:48am) you: you did not just send me a u up text (1:05am) gojo: not like that b! ( ˵ •̀ □ •́ ˵ ) ur already up anyway (1:07am) you: no im not (1:13am)

you jump as you suddenly hear your bedroom door handle jiggle impatiently, your phone on your bed vibrating with a vengeance. 

is he fucking serious right now? the audacity of this guy, it was past midnight – 

gojo: BABE! (1:14am)

you groan softly, you were in bed already. comfy. cozy. ignoring the disturbance, you turn to lie on your side, your back facing the door you shrug your comforter over your head. 

gojo: IF U DON’T ANSWER IM GONNA SCREM (1:16am)

the glow from your phone illuminates your face under the blankets as you snicker softly at his messages. there’s no way that gojo would scream – he didn’t have the balls. you decide to call his bluff and settle deeper into your comfortable pillow, empty hands searching for bun bun beside you, ignoring your constantly vibrating phone.

gojo: AND WAKE EVERYONE UP RN RN BABE!!!!!! (1:18am)

you reach for bun bun, playing with his long soft ears absentmindedly, mildly aware of your impatient phone or the rattling of your doorknob – gojo could wait, bun bun was too cute to ignore. 

gojo: FINE OK U ASKED FOR THIS (1:20am)

suddenly you hear the beginning of gojo screeching, hastily you run to your door, immediately grabbing him by the collar of his uniform, you slap your hand roughly against his too loud mouth. you bite your lip to prevent a satisfied smile from creeping on your face as you successfully muffle the obnoxious intruder. “what to fuck is wrong with you?!!” you shout whisper as you shove his chest with your other hand, his long legs stumbling deeper into your dim room. “you’re gonna get us in detention!” you berate him taking in his disheveled appearance, his eyes wide as saucers, his glasses askew on his face. “do you not fucking hear how loud you were?!” you whisper angrily to him, giving him a death glare while hesitantly removing your hand off his soft lips. gojo’s eyebrows twitch in amusement, only adding fuel to the fire in yours. “see! look what you did! you woke up bun bun!” you gesture to your pink stuffie, jostled in the rush to answer the door, his little legs dangling pathetically in the air. gojo flops into your bed with a strange familiarity that oddly makes your chest feel too tight. with a sheepish look he makes to grab the stuffed animal, “i’m sorry, buddy,” he whispers too sincerely as he rights the pink bunny, “i didn’t know you were sleepin’ – that was uncalled for." he tucks bun bun back into your bed gently, grabbing your beige comforter and patting his head comfortingly attempting to lull him back to sleep, stopping for a moment playing with his long floppy ears. you pull a face. “why are you so nice to him and not to me?” you pout, hoping your heated gaze burns a hole in the side of his head. gojo looks up at you with an obnoxious frown, “i’m actually really nice to you, babe,” he says seriously, still patting bun bun’s soft head. “oh, so disturbing me at like 1 in the morning is being nice?” you say sinking onto your bed, folding your legs underneath you. “i literally just got back and you were already up. n’ i told ya i’d see you. i tried getting back sooner, but y’know – shit happens.” he says simply, taking a seat next to you while playing with the edge of your plush comforter. “shit happens.” you repeat rolling your eyes, debating on whether you should just try to get back into bed and kick him out of your room or ask him about his trip in kyoto. undecided, you rip your soft comforter from his grasp and throw on the comforter over your legs to ease your decision making. still dressed in a warm coat over his uniform, past his usually bright eyes and toothy smile, you noticed that gojo almost looked deflated, his shoulders still tense with something you didn’t understand. you frown. “c’mon let’s getting donuts,” he offers, knocking his knee playfully against yours before you move away from him in a huff. conscious about your stale silence, he started to worry that he underestimated your annoyance with his admittedly unorthodox methods at getting your attention. but he couldn’t help it, he was excited to be home – excited to see you. ­­­­­­ “we can get ones ya like…” he tests, leaning closer towards you, noting that you didn’t shy away from him this time. he boldly pokes your stiff shoulder, subtly trying to get you to look at him or for you to give him a more obvious sign that you weren’t totally upset at him. 

“...y’know  that place in chiyoda?” gojo tries, fist against his leaning cheek, unaffecting his triumphant smile as he sees your ears perk up, knowing he got your attention. you turn your head considering your options. normal donuts were always good, but donuts in chiyoda? those were your absolute favourite. you remembered when you received an earful when suguru bought a half dozen after his mission nearby and you ate 4 of them before suguru could even have one. whoops, ya snooze ya lose, sugu. gojo had a good laugh at suguru scolding you, probably amused at someone other than himself being the focus of an infamous suguru scolding. in apology, you went to to get him another half dozen, not telling him that you had actually gotten him a full dozen but had eaten six donuts on the train ride back. suguru could tell by the sugar on your sleeves, but he appreciated it all the same and he understood, those donuts were delicious. 

you recognized that gojo was playing dirty.. but donuts are any anytime food, perhaps it wouldn’t – wait. shaking your head, you had to think logically. 

you noticed that being around satoru gojo made you make more… irrational decisions,  choices that you wouldn’t normally make. gojo had that effect on people, lowering their IQ by many points just being in the vicinity – that was a fact. 

“how, dude? curfew happened hours ago, if yaga finds out.. .i mean i’ll be fine but you?" you sneer, "you’re getting a shaved head and suguru will make fun of you so badly you’ll cry. i'm not dealing with boohoo-ing gojo, you’re already annoying when you’re happy.” gojo groans at your comment, his nose scrunching up in annoyance. 

“pff as if suguru could make me cry!” he scoffs, “yaga won’t find out.” you cross your arms across your chest, giving him an exasperated look at gojo’s ego on full display. 

“yeah, uh huh,” you mutter disbelief oozing from your body language. 

“you forget who you’re talking to babe,” he smirks cockily as you roll your eyes at him. 

“then what do you suggest, oh honoured one?” you spit sarcastically, not missing the way he sticks his tongue out at you, as you mirror him in response.

pff he was so childish. 

“i could teleport us there,”  shooting you a proud look.

“..what?! when did you manage that!?”  

he smiles cockily, “earlier this week, when you were in nagoya!” he puffs his chest out, pleased with your impressed stare.

you knew that he was working hard to perfect his teleportation. more than a few times gojo would saunter in pompously during the middle of your sparring sessions with suguru, somehow always annoyingly interrupting when you were on top of suguru just on the verge of pining him. you and geto even started making a bet at the beginning of each sparring session as to what time gojo would make his appearance. you’d laugh in victory when you would win, making the groaning geto buy your favourite chips at the corner store. or on the rare occasion when he’d win, you’d buy his favourite seaweed rice crackers. 

gojo would loudly insist that you and suguru keep him company while he was training, complaining that he needed the distraction so that he would be able to easily teleport during  chaotic missions. he’d even make you stay after geto had retreated for the night, insisting that he still needed your help. begrudgingly you often found yourself sitting crossed legged on the gym mats, watching him with equal parts curiosity and exasperation. his usually blue buggy eyes closed in concentration. his brows furrowed, his shoulder still, his usual chaotic energy cloaked in an almost eerie silence. gojo was undoubtedly hardworking and persistent  – most likely the results of strict training implemented when he was young. you were glad that he accomplished his goals albeit admittedly  a bit annoyed that you weren’t there to see it first hand. 

“pleaseeeeee, let’s goooo. you’re thinking too hard about it grumps!” he turns to you dramatically, gearing up for a lengthy conversation to convince – to beg you even – to go with him. but he’s used to it.

gojo had a smart mouth, one that he cultivated during his youth. growing up he’s learned to weaponize his strengths, easily talking his way out of many things. effortlessly convincing shoko and to a lesser extent suguru to actively participate in his mischief. like that one time after a rare mission with you and suguru, he convinced his best friend that the spiciest ramen in ginza wasn’t even that big of a deal and that if anyone could do it, suguru surely could. you could still remember gojo’s manic laughter as suguru downed two cartons of milk as you patted his back while rolling your eyes. Or when shoko had told you about that infamous time last year before your arrival when gojo had convinced suguru and her to jump in the ocean with him in naha in the middle of a particularly frigid october resulting in all of them getting sick for a week – yaga was not happy.

gojo was used to getting what he wanted and never failed to resort to playing dirty if he really had to. satoru gojo always got what he wanted. although you were a harder case to crack with the right approach, an abundance of patience and a bit of luck, he could convince you. perhaps if he applied some logic to his fun, amazing, incredible adventure, you’ll surely fold, right? 

“look, i swear I can get us back in half an hour, tops. no one will notice, i’ll even – ”

“okay.”

he blinks at you. 

what? that’s it? that was easy. you were always surprising him.  

“w-what?” his trilogy of groveling disappearing instantly on his tongue at the sight of your teasing smile.

“let’s go, I wanna get that yuzu donut they have,” you say as you grin up at him, amused by his confused face. giggling at his rare silence, gojo watches you ecstatically as you stand to rustle through your dresser, quickly picking out a warm sweater and some soft pants and practically skipping into your bathroom to change.

gojo scoffs, almost disbelievingly, a hand reaching behind his head to card his hands through his hair. a soft grin creeping on his face at how you easily smiled at him. a few months ago, he’d have to almost beg you to do anything with him. hell, it took him almost two months and daily nagging to get you to sit beside him at lunch when you first arrived. nowadays, you’d let him lounge in your room or even text him first sometimes, he’d catch you grinning at him more than pouting – the thought made him giggly, a weird fluttering feeling exploding in his stomach. 

happily he tosses his body deeper into your bed to cuddle bun bun, excitedly whispering to him about his plans- luckily bun bun was a good listener.

hearing his soft baritone, you turn your head to see what he was up to. promptly turning around before he could see your creeping smile, you attempt to shooing away the warm staticky feeling that bloomed within you when you sneak a peak gojo’s warm expression. he strangely didn’t look out of place laying in your bed, easily blending into with all of your other personal belongings. you wondered when your room became the place where he was found more regularly. 

finally shutting your bathroom door, you hear his muffled laugh as you quickly change out of your pajamas. before you could wonder what he was up to, you see an alert flash on your phone: a photo from gojo. exhaling through your nose, you flip open your phone to see that he sent a photo of himself and bun bun, the stuffie’s pink little arms around gojo’s beaming face, the bunny’s cheek leaning on gojo’s. you giggle, saving the photo immediately before shrugging your head into your sweater.

“… okay? so this will be our little secret, bun – i’m serious!  i’m counting on you.” you hear him say seriously to the plushie as you shut the bathroom door, facing gojo with a raised eyebrow.

“what are you poisoning his mind with, gojo?”

“sheesh, babe. nothing! just guy talk, you wouldn’t get it.” you roll your eyes as he rises from your bed before looking back to ensure that bun bun was still tucked in comfortably.

“okay, so how does this work?” you ask him, as he grunts, distractingly stretching out his too long body, his joints popping. 

“well, the more surface area i'm in contact with while I teleport, the easier it’ll be for me –”

your eyes widen. surface area? does that  mean –

“- to get us to our destination accurately. which means, babe – c’mere.” he moves closer to you, almost chest to chest, arms reaching around you. you can feel the warmth radiating off of his body, his comforting scent close and aggressive. 

“uh – what?” you ask, surprised at the quick closeness, placing a hand on his firm chest to prevent him from moving any closer. gojo rolls his eyes sassily, his arms falling limply at his side.

“this worked the best. me and baby did some tests. i had suguru touch my shoulder, hold my hand and then hug me. naturally, the hug got the most accurate results, ‘cause ya know, surface area. but babe, like  sugu actually smells so good, m’not sure what it is but, he definitely changed his shower gel or something ‘cause he smells different but like good diff – ”

you cackle loudly. “pff – i bet suguru hated that hug. he probably showered twice to get the extra stupid off him.” you poke at him, deflecting easily hoping he doesn’t sense your nervousness.

“hey don’t be mean! that’s not the point! the point is, that’s what worked the best.”

you avoid his stare as you fidget with the buttons of your coat that you shrugged on, the low warm lighting of the room almost amplifying your nerves. 

why were you even feeling this way?

you trusted gojo, you knew that he'd get you there safely, you never questioned his abilities, you saw how hard he trained, you knew he was capable. was it the proximity?  but you were used to him sitting too close to you or poking your cheeks, but somehow lately things were different. you could no longer ignore how grossly your heart would flutter when he was near you or how you would annoyingly grin when he texted you. you couldn’t keep away from him any longer, and that annoyed you. 

he cocks his head to the side studying your strange silence, “..hey, it’s okay to be nervous.” 

“m’ not nervous…” you mumbled. sure, you'd let him believe that you were nervous just because of teleporting.

“if you’re not comfy with it you can just hold my arm or something." 

you nod shyly, avoiding looking into his eyes, too proud to see your embarrassment reflected in them. "ughhh guess i'll just have to work a little harder," he teasingly groans, hoping to make you smile. 

when you dont say anything he tries again, moving his hand to rub your shoulder, hoping to reassure you. "i got you.” he says, head turning to decipher your loaded expression. “i wont let anything happen to you, i swear." he whispers seriously.

catching your breath, you meet his unwavering gaze before slowly lowering your hand on his chest. instead you move to gently hook your arm around his right bicep. he smiles encouragingly at you, still soothingly rubbing your arm. you feel his towering stare as your cheeks heat up. his eyes twinkle, like being close this close to you was normal.

he lowers his head, "hold on tight, kay?" he whispers as you feel his arm wind around your waist. 

“gojo, you’d better get us there or else.” 

“c’mon babe! i promise! where’s the trust?” he says brightly as you scoff, shaking your head. 

“god, your ego is bigger than all of japan –”

“heh, not as big as my –”

your eye twitches in irritation. for the second that night you find your hands over gojo’s mouth, berating him of his idiotic behavior.

“ geez okay grumps” he says jerking his head back, “now let’s get those donuts!” he says enthusiastically after shrugging your hands away from his face with a smile, once again trying to ease the pout off of your face.  

you squeeze your eyes shut, increasing your grip on him, concentrating on how his soft hand felt around you. 

if you were with him, it would be fine – you trusted him before, this would be a walk in the park, right?

feeling the cool breeze on your face, accompanied by a gojo’s soft squeeze. you gently open your eyes. “see babe! we’re – oh shit heh...” 

you feel his hand on your waist, pull you closer to him. the too bright lights cause you to blink in confusion. you take a look around you, a large grand temple – wait what? sensō-ji?! that must mean you were not in chiyoda.. but in asakusa which was – 

you detach yourself from gojo’s still arm around you, crossing your arms poutily, you facing him defiantly. his eyes widen behind his glasses at your scalding expression. “hey! no, look – okay this doesn’t happen very often, trust me. i swear –” 

“this is nowhere near, chiyoda, gojo!” “it’s not that far babe, we got legs right? we can wa–” “an hour and a half away.” “i dont know why that even happened – hmm, did you feel anything funny? maybe you weren’t close enough?” “okay, this isn’t my fault!” 

“no,no, no, no –  i’m not saying it is, babe! i guess got nervous – “ “don’t blame this on performance anxiety, gojo! you have to always be prepared, what if we were on a mission! we would’ve been fucked.” 

he whines your name. “i always –” “oh my god, it doesnt fucking matter! we’re so far!” “lemme try again!” he pleads, moving closer to you, eager to please you.. but you quickly sit down on the cold ground, your legs folding underneath you stubbornly. “nope. i’m not teleporting. i’m not going anywhere.” you say firmly, your eyes giving away a streak of mischief that gojo doesn’t miss. 

gojo playful rolls his eyes and plops down next to you, leaning towards you at a dramatic angle so his shoulder touches yours. 

“one more chance.” he whines, as you stubbornly turn your back at him with a hmph. “c’mon, grumps – just one more! please?” he gently leans his head into the center of your back, repeatedly head butting your back like a stubborn little sheep. “you’re gonna teleport us further from the donuts.” you say looking up at the clear night sky, your act of being furious faltering slightly at the feeling of his head prodding you. he was ridiculous.  “no more teleporting. let’s just take the train or something.” “noooooo c’mon let’s walk then, grumps. it’ll be fun. me and you time!” 

“nope. you said you’d get us there, and you didn’t uphold your promise.” 

“i mean… technically, i promised to get us there but not the mode of transportation–” 

“i dont give a fuck about technicalities, dude.” 

“okay, okay, fine – get on.” he gets up into a crouch, a long hand gesturing for you to get on his back. “..what?” you scrunch up your nose in confusion. “get on. i’m strong enough to walk for us both, since you’re soooooooo lazy!” “you cant be serious.” you say scoffing, turning your body to face him slightly surprised by his serious face, expecting him to be joking. “why, you scared?” he asks, his glasses sliding down his slender nose. you catch his twinkling eyes. “didn’t know lil ol'grumps was scared of the most powerful, handsome, charming sorcerer of the modern age, satoru go–”  

your eyes narrow challengingly.

fuck it. if he wants to play, fine, you’ll fucking play. you had enough of his ego tonight. 

launching yourself with a burst of energy of something to prove, you practically jump on his back, your strong legs wrapping around his torso in a piggyback. “oompf!” he grunts at the abrupt contact, his bright laugh echoing through the empty street as he easily catches you, quickly reaching back grabbing your thighs. “you’re so spoiled, babe.” he says, shaking his head with a smile. 

“you’re the one who offered!” you hiss with a shove to his shoulder. 

ensuring that you were on snugly, he carefully stands up at full height. gojo laughs boisterously as he feels your arm hastily scramble to wind around his neck for balance. you never realised how tall gojo was. did he always see the world from this angle? being this high above the ground, you were slightly wary. you knew that if he dropped you it would hurt, so you had to mentally prepare for the pain when he couldn’t hold you any longer, for when he got tired of holding you up. the fall was inevitable. but feeling his soft breath on your arm, breathing in his familiar scent, a small hope bloomed in your heart when you considered that maybe, just maybe he would catch you. 

“onward! to donuts!” he playfully proclaims loudly, his steps quickening, enjoying how he feels your quiet laugh though his back, the warmth of your laughter renewing him with energy. 

draping your arms tighter around his neck you can’t help but allow your body to relax – he was unusually comfortable. you listen to gojo waffle on about the intricacies of digimon or complaining how shoko stole his conditioner the other day, “but joke’s on her, it’s actually suguru’s. i steal his all the time, that idiot hasn’t even realised yet.” 

“oh man, wait ‘til i tell suguru..” you snicker, unclasping your hands around his neck to take out your phone from your coat pocket. with a gasp, gojo jostles you obnoxiously, causing you to throw your arms around his neck again in an attempt to hold on. 

“hey! i almost dropped my phone, you ass. you’re such a baby.” you huff, making a mental note to still tell suguru as punishment for being tossed around like a sack of potatoes. 

“i have no idea what you’re going on about!” he says with a mischievous smile. 

“soooo, what were you like as a kid, babe?” he asks. “what do you mean?” you ask, caught off guard by his unusual question. “what was baby grumps like?” 

“what do you mean? me but just smaller.” you deadpan, continuing to absentmindedly stare up at the starless sky, it looked pretty from his point of view. 

“so, you’re tellin’ me that you’ve always been this grumpy, damn i feel sorry for – ouch, just a joke! i was just joking! ” he whines as you lightly tug on his hair. 

“m’ only grumpy around dumbasses.” you sarcastically smile at him. 

“pff you’re the dumbass, dumbass. okay, okay. well then what did you do to have fun with your friends?” he questions, easily carrying you through the darkening streets. “i… uh read books, and i’d cook..” 

“no, not nerd stuff, like fun stuff. did you sneak out? get up to some trouble with your friends or something?” “.. uh no. this is my first time sneaking out.” “no fucking way, babe!” he turns his head to meet yours. you blink, annoyed that your blushing face was prominent in the reflection of his dark glasses. you lean back slightly, unnerved at the sudden closeness of his face to yours, you could almost imagine the feeling of the brush of his cheek against yours or the feeling of his long eyelashes against your skin. 

“i mean… it’s kinda new that i have people to share things with...” you mumble, focusing your eyes on the button of his uniform instead of his distracting face, your twitching hands clasping tightly around his neck. 

“yeah, i get that.” he chimes in quickly, his warm hand squeezes your thigh gently, offering comfort. “but it’s fun though, even when it’s a little scary isn’t it?”

you nodded. maybe you weren’t so different, you and gojo. you were starting to see the cracks in his mask, or maybe you just knew him better or he was letting you see him – either way, you decided that knowing satoru wasn’t all that bad. 

“did you sneak out when you were a kid?” “uh,duh! no way i’d stay in that hellhole longer than I had to. everything and everyone was super traditional and boring.” 

you hum in understanding, gojo was never one for tradition often getting in trouble with the higher ups, yaga and even occasionally geto. although you understood the need for it, you did see gojo’s point – tradition did sound rather stiff and limiting. you couldnt imagine the security and pressure a child of the big three clans faced growing up, but gojo’s childhood must have been one that you couldn’t fathom. “where’d you go then?” you asked, enjoying the warmth radiating off of him, cozy and comfy as you leaned your chin on his shoulder, his soft coat against your cheek. “i’d wait til everyone was asleep and just wander around town.” 

“where’d you like to go?” 

“heian-jingu is pretty peaceful at night, i liked feeding the koi. heh, did you know, they like peas?” you giggle, “you fed them peas, gojo?” “well i tried different things! but i could sneak peas out of the kitchens the easiest and they liked them the best.” he counters, side stepping a puddle on the dark streets, “sneaking out was great until i got caught.” 

“eh? did you get in trouble?” “oh for sure, babe. but i’m the chosen one, so like, what could they do? stop me?” he jeers,  catching your grimace. “you’re such a brat.” you amusedly snort, catching his bright eyes behind his glasses. “you think im fun! im a cool brat though, right? i’m cool!” 

“mmmhm” you tease him, enjoying the little pout that threatens to grow on his face. “you must’ve been happy when you started at school, hey? must have been a big adjustment.” “god yeah, ya have no idea.” he says, “i couldn’t imagine that people lived like this all the time.” “like what?” you tilt your head. “with all this freedom.” “mhm, and… happiness.” you add softly, so quietly that you think he misses it. but when gojo turns to look at you with an expression you don’t quite understand and a slight nod, you wonder if that’s the only thing he’s heard. 

you blink in understanding as you lean down to lean your cheek against his shoulder. with the dark sky above and the silence of the streets acting as your only other companions, your mind wanders at the thought of you and gojo’s shared relief and confusion at finding a home at jujutsu tech. loneliness recognizes loneliness after all.  

and in this moment suspended in time, with your legs dangling in the cold air, thighs being held up by his strong hands, feeling his soft laughter against your chest  – you cant help but think that perhaps you might have found another home. 

gojo watches you in amusement as you happily carry your donut in a little paper bag, practically running to the bench at the park near the store. when you were happy, it was easy to tell – it radiated through your whole body, every part of you perked up in delight. 

he smiled at how happy this donut made you – these simple things. gojo was already planning to take you to other places, maybe to fancier donuts since you liked them so much. or he could teleport you to try that donut place in kumamoto or maybe to get the matcha mochi donuts ones in kyoto since you liked matcha so much, maybe he could take you to heian-jingu and find out if the koi liked donuts. he hoped they did, because that would definitely make you laugh. if you were there with him, kyoto wouldn’t be as bad even with the gojo estate being so close by. as he took his seat next to you on the bench, stretching out his long limbs, he felt his worries from earlier in the day disappear, your presence giving him new light. he grins, unwrapping his own donut. 

sighing dreamily as you take a bite out of your yuzu cream donut you softly groan in delight, finally getting what you were craving for all night. you were grateful that this place was 24 hours, this shop was your favourite ever since shoko showed it to you when you first arrived. god, you needed to thank her. “oy!” he says resting his head on your shoulder, you stare down at him with annoyance, ignoring the way his soft hair tickles your neck. 

“babe tax.”  he says simply, opening his expectant mouth. 

you sigh, shrugging him off your shoulder, you just wanted another bite and you were running out of patience. “small bite gojo – gooojoo!” you whine as you watch gojo unlatch his jaw, ready to take the rudest bite out of your donut. “– small bite!! I SAID SMALL –” “mmrphhhfff – that was a small bite!” he says with his mouth full, defending himself from your weak shove. with a defiant look, you lean down and take a rather large bite of his chocolate cream donut that he was holding as he rolls his eyes. 

“geez babe, you’re so bad at sharing.”  

“mhm, y’know that chocolate one is pretty good,” you say as you thoughtfully chew your stolen bite. 

“yeah? you wanna switch?” “nah, mine’s better.” you smile at him as he watches hypnotized by your tongue darting out to lick the chocolate cream off of your lip. 

“y’good?” you ask, catching his stare, his eyes quickly darting down to his chocolate donut. 

“ah, yeah. yeah, i am.” he recovers quickly, pink dusting the tips of his ears. 

you nod as you take another bite of your donut, too busy enjoying the contrast of the crunch of the sugar granules that lace the outside the pillowy dough of your sweet treat, the contrast of the slight tang of the yuzu pastry cream offers a refreshingly smooth and citrusy palette cleanser. 

“oh yeah! I got you something.” 

you blink owlishly as he rustles through his coat pockets, popping the rest of the chocolate donut easily into his mouth. “you didn’t have to, gojo..” you say shyly. you hated receiving gifts, you always felt awkward receiving something that you probably didn’t deserve. “close your eyes.” he says, wiping the sugar off of his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“... what? why?” you ask, a fourth of your donut still in your hands. “close your eyes – it’ll be fun. trust me.” 

playfully you stuff the last bite of your donut into gojo’s surprised mouth. 

“nmmpfffff babe, really?” his annoyed tone contradicts his softening eyes as you laugh at his cocked eyebrow. he quickly chews his mouthful of your yuzu donut as you dust the sugar from your hands.

hesitantly deciding to indulge him, you close your eyes with a sigh, your twitching palms splayed out. you could practically hear gojo’s excitement as he places a small rounded container into your small hands. opening your eyes you see that it’s a beautiful metal container filled with matcha from kyoto, rendering you speechless. “i just– i thought that.. i know they’re not matcha candies.. i tried looking for them.. but –” whipping your head to his face you see a rare sight – a bashful satoru gojo. your eyes widen. you blink, heart beating in your throat. he.. remembered? “ – whenever you miss your dad, you can have some.” you exhale quickly to ease the fluttering in your stomach. something was quickly building up within you, your eyebrows crinkle at the embarrassment of your watering eyes. your fingers feel the intricate swirling pattern engraved on the matcha tin. “ you don’t have to have it if you don’t like it, babe. i dunno, the lady at the shop said it was the best one they had… don’t worry i wont be offended if yo –” 

he thought you didnt like it? he was ridiculous, he was – you throw caution to the wind. with strange ferocity you launch your betraying body into gojo, your arms finding a familiar home around his neck, your breathing evening out when you feel his warm chest against yours, your beating heart connecting with his. beating stronger now that you feel his surprised arms cage you in his scent, a silent pleased coo sprouting in him. “no. i – .. i love it…” you whisper timidly, hiding your face into his shoulder.  

“yeah?” gojo starts rubbing your side soothingly. he hoped you couldn't see his pink cheeks in the dim light. he couldnt help but notice the way your frame felt that you easily slotted against his, the perfect fit. 

“hey.. uhm.. i .. just thank you.” 

he hums as you slowly release your hold on him – too soon for his liking. “you okay?” 

you nod, focusing your attention on the tin, trying to ignore the comforting way that one of his arms was still hooked comfortably around your waist. 

“hey, no running now, grumps,” he speaks softly, looking at you with a loaded expression. “yeah, i’m okay…” you lift your gaze to his, your eyes meeting a gentle blue, a softness you hadn’t seen before from him. 

“y’sure?” you noticed the slight crease in his brow. the warmth in the way that he’d unconsciously rub your side to offer the only form of comfort that he knew from his childhood. a memory of a servant comforting the lonely future of jujutsu society when he cried all those years ago. 

he was sweet when he wanted to be.

you nod. “i just.. i’m overwhelmed, I think.” “well, that’s better than being just whelmed right?” 

“i don’t think that’s a thing, dude.” you chuckle, stepping away from his touch, still holding on to the tin of matcha, the coolness of  the tin and the raised designs distracting you from his all consuming presence. if you were any closer for any longer, you think you’d drown in him. for once you were grateful for his stupid jokes. 

“guess you got up to some fun stuff in kyoto?” you ask, attempting to overcome your embarrassment with grace, playing with a button on your jacket. 

“ughhhhhhh, i guess you could call it that – those hags kept harassing me before i could sneak out. i'm just so glad to be home.” he says running down his face irritatingly. “‘m glad you’re back.” you say softly. you close your eyes immediately, berating yourself at the unintentional admission – it just slipped out , you couldn’t help it. but it was too late to take it back. “oh you are? so ya missed me, eh, babe?” he grins widely as if nothing pleased him more. and nothing has. “no, i’m just saying that it was too quiet when you were gone.” you stubbornly say fervently. he tsks impatiently. “just say it!” he stomps his foot irritatedly, leaning closer to you. “s’okay, i know you’re shy. here, here – i’ll start – i missed you when i was away, babe.” he says ruffling the back of his hair, the white strands picking up the artificial fluorescence of the street lights above. it looked as if he were glowing. “thanks.” “no! that’s not what you’re supposed to say!!!” throwing his hands up exasperatedly, deflating entirely at your words.

“you’re so bad at this, babe,” he groans, his arm settling around your shoulders. “you’re such an idiot, gojo,” you mutter, a new warmth apparent in your tone. but nothing gets past gojo, the warmth in your tone exploding in the pit of his stomach pleasantly. “you missed this idiot. don’t worry, you dont have to say it – i know sugu and shoko can’t bother you like i can,” he says as you allow him to rock your shoulder against his, pulling your body to sit close against him. 

regardless of the truth, you didnt want  to feed his enormous ego any more so you shrug off his arm with a scalding look. as you reach into your jacket pocket to fiddle with your phone charm – a nervous habit that you’ve unconsciously developed. taking out your flip phone your eyes widen in shock. 

“shit! It’s 5AM –” as you stand up quickly, whipping your gaze to gojo. 

“eh?! no way!” gojo stands quickly, dusting his thighs off, while taking out his own phone to confirm the surprising news, he whistles lowly, “damn, 5:13 that’s crazy.” 

“i know, i guess we lost track of time…” “seems like it.. c’mon, i’ll teleport us back” without any fuss you hook your arm with his. playing with the sleeve of his jacket, you hoped that he was more accurate this time, yaga was known to get up early and you needed to get to your rooms before he noticed. sure gojo and geto often got in trouble and were used to the punishments, but you and ieri were more sneaky about your mischief, managing to get away without any reprimanding and you wanted to keep it that way. 

“i’m sure yaga’s still asleep, we’ll be fine…” he mutters, raising an eyebrow as you wind an arm around his back. “just in case,” you whisper as gojo pretends to rolls his eyes, a smile peaking through his twitching lips. 

suddenly, you feel the soft plush of your bed underneath your thighs – your blankets messy right where you left them. releasing the breath you’ve been holding in,  you take in your surroundings unconsciously squeezing gojo’s arm tighter in relief as you hear him chuckle. 

although the bed was messy just like you left it, the colour of your bed sheets and comforter was.. wrong. blinking rapidly, you notice that the room was strangely larger than yours. thick, old books on jujutsu were organized neatly on tall bookshelves where your desk was supposed to be, there were many stuffies around the room in varying sizes some that you vaguely recognized  – “oh fuck – ” he swears loudly, realization on his paling face, an incredulous laugh dancing on his lips. you aggressively drop his arm that you were clinging on to, quickly catching on.

“are you fucking serious right now??!“ you whisper shout at gojo, his tall figure cowering amidst your outburst. “you fucking teleported us right into yaga’s room you fucking idio -“

you feel the mattress shift, and then you feel a familiar cursed energy surge, a tidal wave easily drowning both of you. 

fuck.

 “and what,” yaga’s deep baritone calls, fury carefully held back, “are you two doing up at this hour?” your panicked eyes meet his glowing mischievous ones, a laugh emerging faintly on his grinning face. “babe, run. run right now-” you feel gojo push you off the mattress, as your legs make a break for it. in the distance you hear gojo’s squawking as yaga grabs him easily by the collar. you quickly run across yaga’s room, thinking that you vaguely hear gojo’s smart mouth attempting to lessen the damage with lame excuses. 

yaga yells your name just before you reach the door but you don’t hear it. you’re not sure who’s laughing louder -  you or gojo.

snackies!tags: @starmapz @ghost-buddies

a/n: hi pals, it's been a while! thank you for being patient with this chapter. aren't they sweet? i just need them to get it together! AHH! see you in the comments (,,♡ᵕ♡,,)

[thelov3lybookworm]

Belonging with them

Day 3: Belonging.

Summary: He knew where he belonged now.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1150

Warnings: azzie continues being jelly of kaden lolll

A/n: i love hazel sm yall dont get it 🥺 this fic is based on a short i saw on yt and the dad is like the biggest hunk and gave such cassian vibes and he genuinely cried 🥺 i was gonna write this fic for cassian but then i decided to give this to azzie cus he deserves to cry hehe

(if you dont know hazel and kaden, theyre from my mini series overprotective bat. it was a 2 part series which can be found on my azriel masterlist. all the fic in this week will be revolving around these two cuties hehe)

@azrielappreciationweek

ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳

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"I don’t really know where I fit in anymore."

"I’ve been alive almost five and a half centuries and I’m not sure of that, either."

The day he had said those words to Feyre seemed like a lifetime away, as if experienced in a dream centuries ago when he was younger and could not differentiate between reality and what his brain had conjured up. But he knew, it had merely been five years.

The five years he had cherished the most in his life.

He loved his family. He adored the way Rhys and Cassian bickered during their annual snowball fight, the way Amren found a way to slide in a snide remark at every dinner, the way Mor would always be ready to go partying. Above all, he adored how all his family including the Archeron sisters would be ready to help him and be there for him any day. Even in the middle of the night when he did not want to wake up his wife but knew he needed someone to help him with his crying daughter.

But… they did not complete him. He loved them to bits and would readily give his life for them… before he met his now wife and decided she was the one he would spend his life with, mating bond be damned. He had lost all hopes of finding his mate back then after waiting for five centuries.

Imagine his shock when on their wedding day, he felt another thread of gold tying him to his wife.

Now as he sat watching his daughter pet a purring Nuts lounging on the low table in front of him while explaining to him how tea was made, he smiled.

He had found his place of belonging. And it was with his wife and daughter.

Of course, there had to be that boy trying to take his daughter away from him. What was his name? Kade? Kaden? Azriel thought bitterly.

He knew he was being dramatic. His daughter was barely four years at this point, no four year old was going to steal her away.

Hazel turned to Azriel, making him focus all his attention on her. He offered her a smile when she handed him a small pink cup.

"What is this?" He asked, bringing the empty toy to his lips.

She shot him an incredulous look. "It’s the tea you ordered daddy."

"Oh, yeah sorry, I was thinking about something."

She shook her head. "Stop thinking and focus, daddy. Kaden always pays attention."

Azriel stilled.

I am being compared to a four year old boy now? What has life come to.

He sighed, mumbling out an apology even though all he wanted to do was tell her to stay away from that boy.

He did not want to be forced to go apologise again.

She began fumbling with the littered toys on the desk once more, completely ignoring Azriel in favour of mumbling instructions to Nuts, as if teaching him how to cook.

As he watched her move over to the huge armchair and place a cup on it, conversing with what Azriel could only hope was not spirits of the deceased, his curiosity peaked.

Maybe it was a bad idea, but he needed to make sure that she was not getting overly friendly with Kaden.

"Hazel, this tea is amazing." He waited till she giggled before continuing. "By the way, how’s school?"

It was daycare to help her get accustomed to going to school next year, but Hazel insisted she was a big girl and attended big girl school.

"It’s fine. Miss Black gave me a gold star yesterday because I helped her." Hazel was focused on the air she was stirring in her red pot as she talked, lips pursed slightly in concentration.

"Hmm. Who’s your best friend?"

Please don’t say Kaden. Not Kaden. Please.

She turned around to glare at him, and he wondered if by any chance he had said the words aloud. But he knew he hadn’t. Azriel wouldn’t let himself speak without permission from himself.

Her brows bunched up, lips pouting and eyes narrowed, she looked as offended as an old grandma being told her grandchild was full and did not want more food.

"Daddy, it’s you. You’re my best friend." She rolled her eyes.

Azriel watched. He simply watched her return back to stirring her pot.

Cassian had been the one to teach her the eye rolling. Azriel had been amused. Seeing a child barely reaching his knees roll her eyes at him like she had lived five lives was nothing short of funny.

But right now, it felt anything but.

It’s you daddy.

His eyes were prickling, that was his first conscious thought after long moments of silence in his head. His vision was getting blurry, throat clogging. Tell tale signs of a sob session oncoming. But he could not bring himself to care as he stared at this little faeling, who did not even realise what she had done.

You’re my best friend.

Azriel simply sat back against the couch, the cushions pressing against his bare back, and let the tears have their way on his skin.

I’m her best friend.

Even despite the emotions Hazel had brought forth, somewhere in the back of his mind Azriel was rejoicing that her best friend was not Kaden.

Guess I’m never beating the territorial illyrian accusations.

The shadows settled down on his shoulders, swirling softly against his skin as they too watched Hazel play and pet Nuts occasionally. They did not inform him of his wife’s arrival in the living room. They did not have to. He simply felt when her presence was near. The all consuming feeling of love growing stronger in his chest being another indicator.

"Hazel, it’s bath time baby. Let’s go."

Hazel huffed as if what Y/n had said was the most outrageous thing ever. "Mommy, I can’t leave yet. There are customers."

Azriel practically felt his wife’s eyes narrow. "Daddy can attend to your customers."

Hazel turned to look at Azriel pleadingly, her eyes wide and placating before they filled with shock. "Daddy why are you crying!"

Y/n drew closer. "Azzie?"

Azriel blinked, smiling up at his wife before picking up his daughter. "It’s nothing. Just some dust."

Hazel turned to scowl at Nuts. "I told you to clean up properly. Now see, because of you my daddy is crying."

Azriel huffed out a laugh, pressing his lips to her round cheek.

"Let’s go shower baby. I’ll even get your toys, yeah?"

Azriel’s gaze swung to Y/n at the end of his sentence. She gave him a knowing smile.

"Can Nuts come too? Please daddy, mommy!"

"Fine, but no splashing." Y/n pointed a finger at the father-daughter duo, eyebrows raised.

Hazel had begun to whine, but even she knew not to argue when mommy was serious.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[swappermanent]

Life In Retrospect (Part 2)

I ran my fingers along my neck again, as if expecting it to suddenly materialize, but all I felt was smooth, muscular skin. If the necklace was gone... did that mean this was permanent? The thought hit me like a jolt of electricity, raising my cock to attention.

I hadn’t expected this, hadn’t thought I wanted something so drastic. But now that it had happened—now that I was staring at the face and body of a man who was young, powerful, and exuded raw sexuality—I could see exactly why this was the wish the necklace had granted. Deep down, beneath the polite smiles and quiet resignation of age, I’d wanted this more than I could admit.

And seeing it, feeling it now… I knew it was right. This body was wasted on Mikey. But now, the thick mustache, the powerful jaw, massive shoulders, the rich, dark hair—they were all mine. All mine.

My hand drifted lower, sliding down over my—his—flat stomach until I felt the warm thickness of his cock, already hard in my grip. I moved to the bed, sinking down onto it as I leaned back and let my hands continue exploring. With one hand stroking my cock slowly, I used the other to feel up my smooth, firm chest, indulging in the primal thrill.

The pleasure built quickly, my breaths coming in shallow gasps, my new voice low and rough as I gave in completely. I stroked myself with a steady rhythm, feeling the warmth pooling in my core, spreading through every muscle, every inch of skin. The sensation was dizzying, almost overwhelming. Finally, I cameMy body tensed, a shudder running through me as waves of pleasure crashed over me, leaving me breathless and grinning at the ceiling as I ran a finger across my stomach and brought it up to my mouth for my first taste. Fuck I could get used to this.

---

I settled into Mikey's life with surprising ease. The next few days were a whirlwind of hanging out with his friends, hitting the gym, running around town, and just enjoying the energy that came with this young, powerful body. I felt more alive than I had in years—every step felt strong, every laugh deeper, every meal tastier. Even the simplest things, like the weight of this body as I moved, brought me a thrill of satisfaction.

But about a week and a half in, the glow started to flicker. It was subtle at first—brief flashes of weakness, a strange sense of disorientation that hit me out of nowhere. I’d chalked it up to the gym, maybe pushing myself a bit too hard, but the feeling grew worse, and by the third day, it was undeniable.

One morning, I got home from a run, feeling the most drained that I had since the swap, and sat down heavily in front of my computer. A thought nagged at me. I pulled up the site where I’d first looked up the necklace and scrolled through the pages, scanning the text with growing dread. I found the entry that had originally described the necklace’s powers and read the section again, the words coming into sharper focus than they had the first time.

"The Amulet of Wishes grants the wearer the temporary experience of their deepest, subconscious desire. The magic is designed to fade with time, gradually encouraging the wearer to take action toward meaningful changes in their own life."

Shit.

I kept reading, my eyes darting over the ancient text as I searched for a way to make this last. My heart pounded with urgency as I came across the section I’d been hoping for: the conditions for making a wish permanent.

“In most cases,” the text read, “the wishes bestowed by the Amulet of Wishes cannot be made permanent, as they are based on creation—an inherent violation of the natural laws of the universe. Thus, the magic is destined to dissipate.”

My stomach sank, but I kept going.

“However,” it continued, “there exists one exception: the wish of a body swap. Unlike creation, a swap is an exchange of essences, preserving the balance of natural order. To make such a swap permanent, the grantee must transform their new body to better reflect their unique essence—through altering mannerisms, attire, personality traits, and any distinctive aspect that marks their identity. This process convinces the amulet that the body’s former inhabitant is no longer suited to reclaim it. Only then will the necklace bind the grantee to their new form forever.”

A spark of hope flickered in my chest, but I wasn’t out of the woods yet. The entry concluded with a note on how to summon the amulet if it had already disappeared: an incantation, ancient and direct.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I whispered the words aloud. The room seemed to shift, the air crackling around me. I felt a familiar weight settle against my neck—the amulet, its cool metal pressing against my skin.

I exhaled slowly, a mix of awe and anticipation coursing through me. The first step was complete. Now, it was time to begin the ritual to claim this body as my own for good.

I stood up, looking at myself in the mirror—the sharp eyes, the rugged face, the powerful build that I’d inhabited over the last week and a half. This would take more than superficial changes; it would take commitment, subtle shifts in behavior, and the kind of confidence that came naturally to Mikey but had always eluded me.

“Alright,” I murmured to my reflection, feeling a surge of determination. “Let’s get started.”

Stay tuned for Part 3.

[sundew199]

Birthday present

a/n: just smth cute to celebrate Zoro's birthday ♡

tags: Roronoa Zoro x f!reader, fluff, dad!zoro, family dynamics, post-canon

His hands shook as he wiped them from on the sides of his pants, clammy and moist from the nervous sweat he had broken out into as he waited.

It'd been a couple of hours since he received word that you'd gone into labor, caught up in a class and doing his best to rush back to the compound where the two of you lived. The whole day had been a mess, Zoro not anticipating you'd be close to delivering when he agreed to teach a class halfway across the island almost a year ago. Oh well, he can't go back and change the past, all he could do now was apologize and make up for it somehow.

"Everything went smoothly."

Not even hearing the door to the bedroom open, let alone spot the doctor slipping out of the room, snapping Zoro's restless thoughts back to the present. The man looked kind and forgiving, features creasing soft in a reassuring smile as he patted Zoro's arm.

"I'll give you all the time you need, congratulations."

Zoro barely smiled at the doctor as he turned down the hall away from the bedroom Zoro stood outside of. There shouldn't be any reason why he was nervous, right? I mean this wasn't a surprise, sort of planned and wanted so he should just go in and forget about everything swirling in his head. But his stomach flipped and churned and he wished he knew why.

Well. He can't stand out here for the rest of his life.

Slowly pulling back the shoji, slipping inside, Zoro just about melted seeing you cradle a small bundle in your arms, paired with the brightest and yet most tired smile he's seen on you.

"Hey." Falling to his knees beside the futon, grasping the back of your head and placing a kiss on your cheek. "I'm so sorry, I tried to get here as fast as I could."

A soft hand came to silence whatever else might've come out of his mouth next, gently laughing and kissing his cheek back, making the unease in his veins simmer into nothing.

"It's okay, this was kind of unexpected, for everyone."

Zoro cumbersomely laughed, pressing his forehead to yours and then following it with a kiss, reassured to know you weren't upset with him for missing the birth of his first child. You began to scoot over to make room for him, adjusting the baby in your arms and giving Zoro a brief glance. Shit he felt so emotional, a lump rising in his throat and finding no way to make it go away.

Slowly your hand moved the loose blanket swaddled around the baby out of the way so Zoro could see them properly. They were sleeping soundly in the comfort of your arms, it almost didn't look or feel real that he was a father now. He'd hope the realization would've set in sooner, but at the same time the overwhelming sensation coursing through him felt other worldly.

"Can I?" Asking nervously, watching you break out into a small laugh at his question to hold his own child, but Zoro was nervous and it couldn't be helped.

"Of course."

The exchange felt like it was in slow motion, Zoro something of a giant to this new life and instantly on pins and needles when the baby was placed in his arms. Moving as carefully as he could while sitting on the edge of the futon, Zoro looked at you with misty eyes, not quiet crying but overflowing with joy.

"It's a boy by the way."

Hearing you whisper the sweet words and smiling even harder, looking back down again at the baby and adjusting his hold to where he could move the blanket further away from their face. His son made little faces at the adjustments, worrying Zoro for a moment but calming when he continued to sleep.

"I meant to get you a proper gift, but I hope this is okay for now."

Quicker than he could process, Zoro was twisting to look at you fully, uncertainty taking over in his expression.

"Gift? What are you talking about?"

Your sweet laugh confused him further, wondering what you were talking about. Subtly, you scooted closer, hooking your chin over his shoulder and throwing an arm around the other, pressing your cheek to his as you both admired the sleeping baby in his arms.

"It's your birthday today."

Oh.

Oh-

Zoro slightly turned his head with wide eyes, the reminder dawning on him in that moment and suddenly he felt emotions he couldn't find proper words for. His birthday wasn't anything he cared much for, just another year getting older, but he did like the excuse of getting to drink as a form of celebration. He'd been so focused on you and the dojo that his birthday didn't even cross his mind once.

"Shit it is isn't it?"

Lips vibrated on his cheek as you kissed him with another laugh, running your fingertips along his shoulder and humming peacefully.

"Mhm. You don't mind sharing a birthday do you?" Asking with a bit of humor in your tone, pulling the corner of Zoro's mouth into a firmer smile.

"No," Moving to fully turn and face you now, getting himself properly adjusted on the futon next to you, checking in on his son still fast asleep. "Probably just made my birthdays more memorable from here on out."

With his free hand, Zoro cupped one side of your face, locking you into a deep kiss, stroking his thumb over your cheek bone when he pulled away.

"It's not going to bother me, but we never know how he'll feel about it when he's older." Motioning down towards the newborn baby with his chin, breathily chuckling at his own comment.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see." Leaning over to kiss the top of your son's head, proceeding to give Zoro a quick kiss as well before curling up into his side carefully, running your hand across the soft newborn hair with your fingers.

[dilf-docs]

hii i just read ur eddie x young reader. And i LOVE ITTTT

Can u please do something similar but with young neighbor reader? Where the reader moves in an apartment beside eddie . They meet each one day and they hit it off? (nsfw )

(Ignore this if u don’t like the idea or u can change it)

Knockin' On Heaven's Door

eddie brock x younger fem!reader

summary: you're what people call a ray of sunshine, probably the most likeable person in the planet. so why is this hot idiot next door so mean to you?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (you know this blog lives by its name), smut, sunshine!reader x grumpy! eddie (cause his ass just got dumped lol), enemies to lovers (one-sided), kinda mean!eddie, porn with little to no plot, power goes out so they get freaky in the dark, use of pet names, p. in v. (unprotected) (use protection guys pls!!! unlike this dumbasses fucking raw in the dark), oral (m. receiving), creampie, no venom :(

word count: 4,069 words (it's almost midnight again, me thinks I've forever messed up my sleep schedule cause ain't no way inspo only grows as per my eyebags lol)

side note: got my first request on tumblr!! (insert scarlett johanson dancing in marriage story gif). i love looove the neighbours trope so much (hey! if i had a hot older neighbour i would be doing the most to interact with them, bet); hope this lives up to ur expectations even if i tweaked a few things! also, this happens after eddie gets dumped by anne and moves out of the house lol so he's angry, moppy, horny and dry. what if i make this a series tho, would you like that? requests are open!

You're what people call a ray of sunshine. Ever since you managed to talk, all that comes out of you is happiness: the first sound to come out of your mouth was a laugh, your first word was smile, you have Love as your second name, you made friends on real time record, the profession you chose was that of a patissier and the first ink to grace your skin was a little heart tattoo.

Okay, maybe you've made it your whole personality to be likeable. So what? It's not your fault you light up every place you go, that people love you effortlesly and that life seems to smile your way.

It's the way the cookie crumbles, a fitting phrase for a pastry chef like you. Your friends often joked about it: you, a sweet person, baking little sweet goods to make other's lives sweeter.

And you loved it: your life, your job, your family, friends, cat and little apartment in San Francisco.

There was just one thing missing: because no matter how sweet you made other's peoples worlds by existing, no one was there to make it for you.

Alright, you had enough love and just loved love for the sake of it. Sometimes, a tidbit of romance through your screen or through the couple-d lives of your friends sufficed such desire, but its a lie to say you haven't dreamed of your own.

So when Johanna, the girl who lives across you, comes rushing with the newest gossip: "hot new neighbour moving next door!", there's something that tells you it might be time.

"You have to see him" she emphasizes, "a total eye candy"

That ignites the curiosity inside you, and after some weeks hearing through your walls grunts next door and a constant shuffle of things originally packed in boxes, you find yourself knocking on his door, tray of cookies in your hands.

Yes, you did bake them for him. After all, your chocolate chip cookies are a killer! People do lines to get them at your aunt's cafeteria, just to taste the warm soft dough, the chocolate melting on their mouths. You do this for every other new neighbour that comes around, it's just how you are! But the cookie choice is totally intentional though.

The door flinges open, and for the very first time in years, you find yourself at loss for words; speechless.

The stranger before you is a face you'll never forget. Handsome, of course, but there is something alluring in his beauty, one you can't exactly name, but comes along in a pair of thick lips, brown warm eyes and ink sprinkled across strong arms. Your heart hammers in your chest, and it takes all in you to not drop the tray in your chest right here and now.

"Hey!" you find your voice again. Clearing your throat, you proceed. "You're our new neighbour, right? I'm y/n, I live next door. Thought you'd like something sweet to eat after all that effort" you push the tray to the front, "I made this myself!"

He just stares back, blinking. You think he may be confused by your random act, but it's quite normal to do so with newbies. You love welcoming acts!

The awkward stiffness he radiates doesn't deter you away, though. "This are for you" you insist, "or just take one, if you don't want them all..."

"I hate chocolate" he finally says, with such a scowl on his face, you'd think you killed his entire family.

Oh! He hates chocolate? Who hates chocolate?!

You suddenly feel small and stupid. Without much else to say, you don't know how to proceed. You have your way with words, but no one has ever rejected you in the cold open before. It's left you baffled.

Then, a light bulb goes on in your head.

"Wait, I know you!" he quirks an eyebrow. "You're that reporter from TV, Eddie Brock" you gush, "I love helping others, but what you do is amazing... you're, like on other level, giving a voice to those who don't have one"

You admired him; he was someone who was brave and cared.

"Not anymore" and then the door slams in your face.

It takes you a while to process there, standing in the eerie silence of the empty hall, that Eddie Brock may be the very first person in the world who doesn't like you.

In the end, you'd given the batch of cookies to the homeless people living around your building. Even if it made you feel good, the pang in your chest didn't go away. You simply couldn't forget about the incident (because of pride and embarrasment in equal parts), plus, the fact that he lived next door and you couldn't go on about your day without hearing him pace around his apartment, made the task of forgetting about it difficult.

So in the following days you've avoided him, which has been pretty easy so far, since he barely leaves his apartment and you're busy with work and stuff.

It's friday night, and with the next week's groceries in hand, you take the elevator. The door's about to close when it opens again. You can't believe it: after successfuly evading him for five days, Eddie Brock is trapped with you inside the reduced space; you shouldn't been lazy and taken the stairs instead.

"'Night" he mutters, and you swear you've gone deaf because you barely hear so. You don't know what to do, so you just stand there, clutching your tote bag a little too hard. It could be an accident: he's too drunk out of his mind and doesn't know it's you.

It's not like he's been so nice, but after his asshole-ish move last time you saw each other, you don't expect basic courtesy towards you either.

You get a whiff of his scent, mixed with traces of whiskey. It's unfair how intoxicating it feels―how it's got you wanting more of what isn't yours.

God knows it's been long enough since you've wanted a man this bad.

It's not until the elevator dings again that you realize you've been holding your breath the entire time.

"Bye, pretty"

He casually exits out into your same floor never looking back, without realizing the effect his words have on you, hope slowly making its way through the creaks of your open heart.

Okay, maybe it's your fault for raising such high stakes based on two words and a silly little drunk interaction. Maybe you deserve it: because you've become a bit obsessed with the fact that Eddie hates you, but after yesterday, you've already traced a truce in your mind.

Even Johanna has told you to be cool about it. "It's time someone didn't like you" she joked, but you didn't find it funny. She insisted it's not important, but to you it is! How can he not like you? Maybe if he had a valid reason, you'd stop insisting, despite the let down. But he doesn't have one! And you've been nothing but kind! You think too much about it because it doesn't make any damn sense: you're loosing your mind and your friend just laughs.

The only reason you haven't talked to him again, is because work load has catched up to you.

But now you're here, out on the street, and the first person you see is him: on top of his bike, ready to go out.

"Nice!" you chirp. It may not be a top brand, but the black vehicle is as cool as its owner: the leather jacket, worn out jeans and beat up look is an insane combination that may or may not have you drooling.

"Huh?" he looks back at you, and you swear your cheeks reddened in embarrasment at his deadpan expresion.

"Nice bike, I mean" you nervously laugh, fiddling with a loose string of your sweater. "I love seeing them, but I don't think I'll ever ride one. I get scared too easily, you know?"

He puts his helmet on, "Alright"

Not even a thanks or an attempt of a small talk; what an idiot. Didn't he talk to you last time? Called you pretty? Why is he acting so curt right now?

"Hey, what is your pro-"

Your question doesn't get to be finished, because the engine roars and he's out of there, leaving you confused inside a cloud of smoke, the trail leaving with your last sparks of hope.

It's one of those nights where you just want to lay down and let sleep take control of your body. As soon as you get in your comfy pajamas and sink in the mattress, a noise erupts through the air. Startled, you raise on your feet, the slumber long gone.

Fuck. This hasn't been your week, has it?

The noise comes from outside, and you know who it is: the guy who lives in the corner, right next to the window; he who brings too many women home and plays his guitar a little too loud. It's late an he isn't getting the memo, clearly.

You swing your door open, ready to give him a piece of mind (and perhaps dump your accumulated stress from the week), until you realize you aren't the only one outside on the hall. It's Eddie, and he looks just as pissed as you do.

"Can't sleep?" he asks in a mocking tone, all while avoiding your eyes, rather focused on the common enemy's door.

"What do you think?" you reply, equaling his tone.

You both agree in silence, walking to his door. After some knocking, the guy opens his door: less thrilled when he sees Eddie and more complaint when he sees you.

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll keep it down" and winks. The nerve of this guy. Even Eddie is frowning, surely annoyed at his lack of etiquette. "You can knock anytime, noise or not".

The door closes, but it's Brock who did it, not guitar guy. You're too tired to ask, and after picking what's left of your dignity around him, you decide it's best to walk back to your apartment.

"You know what's funny?" you stop your tracks, laughing, but it's devoid of amusement, "I lost my sleep".

He just stares back, and you're tired of the way conversations have to run by your side, for the very first time. You keep on walking, but as soon as your hand touches your doorknob, he speaks up:

"Goodnight" a small truce, you think. But you're not falling this time.

So you do the right think: walk inside without saying a word, and just like him, never looking back.

You wake up agitated in the middle of the night. It's raining: not just a normal rain but a huge storm. You look over at your alarm, noticing its characteristically red numbers are as pitch black as the sky above you. It's also thundering, and God, do you hate noises and thunder.

You jump again at another one cutting through the sky, and decide it's for the best to just stay awake until it's time to wake up. According to your phone, you have about three hours until morning rises. That's enough time to watch a movie or two. Even to pet your cat, which is laying next to your bed, clearly unbothered―unlike his owner.

But there's a problem: when you try to turn the switch, no lights go on. Your incredulous laugh ecos in the room.

Not only a storm, but also a fucking black out.

Scare slowly creeps up, and the shivers you feel are definitely not only because of the temperature drop.

So you grab your phone and head out, without clearly thinking and obviously in panic, because the first thing you do is knock on your neighbour's door.

Eddie's.

"Oh!" it takes a while for him to answer his door, but when he does, his phone's flashlight burns your eyes. "Sorry" he apologizes, and you don't know if it's for that or the fact he didn't answer; maybe for everything too, "didn't hear the knocking with all the thunder".

You say it's fine, that you're just checking to see if you're not the only one without light.

He flicks a nearby switch to no avail, "I'm afraid everyone in the whole building too"

Eddie probably notices your frightened state, the way you shiver like a lost puppy, and feels sorry.

"Wanna come inside?" he offers, hands inside his grey sweater's pockets.

For the very first time since you met him, he looks at you, but really looks at you: eyes roaming over your body, an all too familiar feeling painted across his brown orbs.

You realize a bit late what you're wearing: a teensy short and top, a set of pajamas that happens to be your most comfortable. Favorite too. Appropiate for this emergency meeting? Maybe not.

"You want me to?" you asked, confused. "I thought you hated me"

The only sound across the hall is the droplets of rain outside, some tapping in the window next to you and his apartment.

He looks rather embarrased, "I don't".

"Then you're just an idiot" you counter back, and he doesn't fight you about it.

"Fair" he says, "I can make some coffee?"

Maybe he's pretty convincing or you're a people pleaser, but as soon as he proposes, you're caving in just like that.

"Fine, but you better let me bring my cat"

Truth is, Muffin plays hard to get, but now he's resting in Eddie's lap―purring, as you two sip quietly on your coffee. Traitor.

"I used to have a cat" he says, cutting through the silence.

"Oh!" you leave your mug on his table, next to the candle; the only source of light in the room, "didn't think of you as a cat person".

"Tecnically, it belongs to my fiancée. Sorry, ex-fiancée" he makes a pause, "bet that cat doesn't miss me".

"I didn't know you had a, uh-" you're not sure how to proceed, so you trail off. Muffin jumps from Eddie's lap to the kitchen, lost in the dark.

"Yeah, I had a fiancée, cat, house, and job. Then I lost everything" he dry chuckles, humorlessly, "guess that's why I'm so bitter"

"I'm sorry" you say on the most sincere tone you can muster. Eddie wonders how can you be so kind and forgiving, especially after he's been nothing but an asshole to you.

"Doesn't mean I should've been a douchebag for no reason. You didn't deserve it" he apologizes, embarrased.

You stay in silence for some more time but then he says: "Not an excuse, but it's been real bad days"

The candlelight is so flickering, you don't know if he's seen your eyes, but by the way he gulps, you think he did.

"Maybe... I could offer a helping hand"

Why had you said that? Are you out of your mind? You barely know the guy, who, by the way, had been a jackass to you like, five minutes ago. But he's hot! And you love to help!

Jesus, talk about dignity and boundaries.

"Y-you would?" he stammers, but the way his hand travels to your lap reveals nothing but security.

He's not asking if you've gone insane or what exactly you mean by that: he's just asking if you would do it.

Would you help?

"Don't you know, Eddie?" your voice drops a sultry octave, "I love to help".

You lean close enough for him to smell the cinammon scent of your skin. Soon, he's leaning too, playing along even against his better judgment. It's too soon, but he's so drawn into you and can't resist it no more; ever since he met you.

His cock twitches in his pants, "help me, then"

It happens too fast, one second you're sipping on your coffee, looking like the most warm and softhearted person in the world and now you're on your knees, deep into his carpet, tugging at his belt with your teeth, a hunger he hasn't seen before in your eyes and filthy needy mouth.

Sex with Anne was sweet and normal. Vainilla. You smell like it too, but there's a difference: you have the appetite of a siren.

Using your hands, you remove the leather your teeth had beggin with, moving them to tug his ripped jeans down, pulling the zipper too in the process. You keep using your mouth, now to get rid of his boxers, where the outline is tight over his cock. Eddie finds himself so aroused to the point he feels hot, even if there's a storm outside and the candle barely provides warmth.

"You sure have a mouth" he mumbles in ecstasy, drunk in the sight of your glimmering lips, coated in saliva. He's dripping too: everywhere.

His cock bounces out, almost hitting you in the face.

"Look at you" you coo, "already dripping for me. What a pretty cock you've got, Mr. Brock"

Fuck, he's going to hell after this. But you can't corrupt what's already corrupted.

"Then you better show me what you mean"

You lick the tip, already leaking with precum. He tenses momentarily, and then stiffle a moan when you take his balls into your mouth, a similar sound coming from you. You suck lightly at them, running your tongue along the sensitive skin.

His hips buckle into your face, and you have to chuckle at the fact it's probably the first time he's ever has his dick sucked this good.

"Don't stop" he huffs.

You obey, tongue tracing along the underside of his cock until you're back at his tip. Eddie's still inside his drunk haze when he feels you taking all of him inside your mouth in one single movement.

"Fuck-!" he chokes out, the thunder outside shutting the vulgar sounds coming out of his plush lips. "Think you can take more?"

His large hand touches the back of your head and pushes it forward with force. His cock presses deeper into your throat, tip hitting the back of it. You feel yourself gag, but the wet spot that's starting to form in your panties says otherwise.

He twists your hair tightly, holding you in place as he fucks your throat with his cock. You feel tears, and Eddie thinks he's never had a prettier sight than you: glossy eyes, looking up to him as you take all his cock.

"I know you can, baby" he presses, "help me like you said you would, yeah?"

His fat cock is blocking your air supply, but the subtle motivation and praise in his eyes is enough to keep you going, thought your throat ends up bulging from the size of his cock, stretching out to accommodate his size.

You said you would help, right? And even if you always do it for the altruist reward, something about being used in such a vulgar and rough way has your chest and panties feeling warm.

Brock groans, body sweating and muscles tense. He yanks you up by your hair, chasing the orgasm like an animal, every movement feeling almost primal.

"Stay there" he feels it coming, "don't move".

You gurgle something, spit rushing down your chin and dripping onto your chest.

"It's almost over, sweetheart" his eyes roll back, head resting on the coach he'd barely used until now, where he's fucking you in the mouth, "I knew that filthy mouth of yours could take me"

You open your mouth wider, anticipating. Tension releases: and he's pounding out his orgasm in your throat, hips banging into your face. You swallow it all, even if you can't taste it since he was so deep in you. He pulls out, a string of spit connecting his tip with your lips.

"Thanks" his voice comes out rough, "you do know how to help those in need"

You wipe your chin with your hand, voice hoarse, "I suppose"

There's some silence afterwards, and now Eddie is cursing he doesn't know what else to say.

"Power is still out" he speaks, "we've got some hours left until the sun rises again"

"So what's your idea?" you giggle, "tell scary stories in the dark?"

You both laugh, but you stop and deadpan. "Please don't, I get scared very easily" and you pout those pretty lips of yours out. How can you be such an adorable but greedy girl? It's hard to believe you're the same person.

"Not that" he swallows thickly. Why is he doing this? Was a blowjob (a fantastic blowjob, by the way) by a young insatiable thing like you enough to make him go mad? "I want to help you too".

Before you protest, he's pulling you and sealing your lips with a hot kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, playing with it. He pulls out, biting your lower lip.

"Eddie" you whine, "b-bed, now"

He's supposed to be older and smarter, so why is his resolve melting away this quickly? Following your orders immediately, your back bouncing on the soft mattress of his bed. As soon as you lay, his lips trail kisses down your throat.

"God, you smell so good" you giggle, "bet this pussy will taste as sweet, huh?"

His cold fingertips grace the fabric of your tiny shorts and the touch gives you goosebumps, "look at you" he tugs your panties, nudging at your cunt. "So soaked... is this for me, baby?"

"Yes, Eddie" the way you say his name is enough to make even the strongest man fold, his dick jolting in response. "Take it"

Both of you remove your clothes in such a hurry, you hope you haven't damaged your favorite pair of pajamas.

"Let me see her" he demands, so you spread your legs, revealing your dripping pussy.

When you kiss again, the underlying carnal desire is mutual, saliva connecting in a silver thread as you both gasp for aire. Your hands wander across his chest, fingers playing with his tensing muscles.

"I promise to reward her, okay?" he lines his cock up with your entrance, the fat tip nudging against you, sticky with precum.

You're desperate with anticipation, practically begging, "please do".

He pushes inside you fully, balls slaping against your sticky clit hard. He’s so deep, pushing against your cervix and stretching you out with each thrust, making even the task of breathing painful and laborious.

Brock feels like he's ruined you, yet you look rather content. You've been used to giving; your kindness of a caretaker nature. You're used to giving your all and not receiving, so with every new thrust against you, his hips slamming, you know you'll never feel this pleasure again with anyone else, the delicious sense hitting you in waves that make you feel dizzy. So, in a way, he has ruined you.

"That desperate for me to fill you?" there's no answer, but the sound of rain and skin clapping against skin.

"Yes, give it to me” you sob, "Eddie, please!"

"Focus on taking it" he guides you. It may make him a pervert, but he isn't changing the sheets any time soon; they'll be covered in you and he'll smell them everytime he gets inside them. "I'm gonna cum"

You moan, lightly tugging at the strands of damp hazel hair. He chokes out a husky groan, heat pooling on his stomach.

Eddie's dick twitches inside you, cum filling your eager insides with the biggest load you’ve ever felt. Your pussy clenches, spasming, wrapping tighter around his length in a needy way, your high coming almost at the same time.

Both your breathes come out in ragged pants. He nuzzles against your neck, skins equally damped.

"Fuck"

As soon as those words leave his mouth, the power returns. You should go now, as this is the reason you stayed, but none of you make the move to leave.

"Stay?" he pleads, "It's still raining outside"

How can you say no to those brown puppy eyes? Does he think he can fuck you this good and then make you leave?

"Alright" you swear he smiles, and it's the prettiest smile you've seen in your life. Could you fall this easily in love? "But turn off the lights: I have work tomorrow and need some sleep"

"Whatever you say, baby" he nips at your lower lip, "you know I love to help"

[seeingivy]

girl i've always been

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my dream girl fic

previous part linked here

songs mentioned: girl i've always been by olivia rodrigo and state of grace by taylor swift

--

--

sukuna very desperately wishes that he had a better sense of judgment. about three things specifically. 

first and foremost – he wished that he hadn’t let you walk off the night prior. he was filled with irritation, because he should have been smart enough to ask for your number. or question you farther to parse out where you were going to be next so he could meet you there. 

second – he wished that he had made a more productive use of the night that followed. that instead of listening to your entire discography and watching every interview he could find, he should have slept through the night. 

the pursuit only made him more irritated with every interview he watched, because he grew more curious the more he found out. 

there were a few things that were obvious to him. that you never went down without a fight, that your fans weren’t short of support for you, that you were cemented as someone who made major moves in the industry – without the help of previous connections like most people. 

but other things were entirely lost to him. like the fact that you used to be so close with kim and aimee at one point but they had never brought you up. that you never stood down to a fight, despite losing greatly at times. that there was some part of the image that you put out that he didn’t necessarily understand. 

yet. 

and third – he wished he hadn’t forgotten that one of his biggest pr interviews was going to be the next day. 

he was at almost zero energy and the cameras littered around the bar of the coffee shop were starting to stress him out. only because this was the last interview that he wanted to tweak out at. 

sukuna cracks his knuckles three, four times.

it’s only two hours. and drinks that he had made hundreds of times. 

“are you good?” yuuji asks. 

“yeah. just slept late last night.” sukuna responds. 

yuuji squints his eyes at him. 

“yeah i heard you. what were you doing?” yuuji asks. 

“just listening to music. was finding it hard to fall asleep.” sukuna responds. 

“mijo, you never change, do you?” 

sukuna turns the corner to find the source of the voice, only to find alina with a hand propped up on her hip, the features of her face all scrunched up and prepared to scold him, and freddie lingering behind trying not to laugh. 

if there was one thing that freddie hated, it was getting scolded by his mother. by proxy, watching someone else be the aim of her wrath filled him with the utmost joy. 

sukuna worked three jobs in high school. he got fired from the first two (a car garage where he assisted the mechanics and a dishwasher at a high end restaurant) and got very close to it with the third, which was being a barista at alina’s coffee shop, play coffee. 

he’s not sure what it was that kept alina from firing him – something he was convinced was a mix of pity and the soft spot she seemed to have for him – because he most certainly deserved to be fired. 

he couldn’t make the most popular drink, the lavender matcha, during rush hour and seemed to make things worse just by being around. he was less of an asset and more of a problem that persisted. 

but somehow, he’d spent the last ten years of his life keeping the coffee shop running by helping her make drinks (the ones he could actually make) or watching freddie in the back room when he was younger. 

more notably, he’d saved them from getting evicted from the building with the first paycheck he got from his acting job. 

it was only when he claimed that it was an investment that she gave in to such a hefty favor, which was followed by her cementing his name on the wall with yuuji’s as one of the co-owners. 

that and the fact that she had to give in, because yuuji and sukuna had already paid it behind her back. she thought it was too much. but to sukuna, he was just repaying a long standing favor. 

a true investment it was because sukuna was dedicated to getting the name out and bringing in more business whenever he could. which included today – an interview that he was doing for vanity fair while covering the morning rush at the coffee shop as part of the pr before the premiere of the show. 

“someone has to keep you on your toes, alina.” sukuna responds. 

it earns him a snort from freddie, who gets a consequent glare from alina, before she turns back to him and crosses her arms over her chest. 

“keep me on my toes? more like keeping me ten feet from my deathbed. do you know how much you stress me out?” alina asks. 

sukuna shrugs, ignoring the question, because he knows that he would hate the answer. he hated giving her more stress than she needed.

he makes his best efforts to divert away from that conversation, only because he knows he’s not even awake enough to deal with getting read to filth so early in the morning. 

“do you happen to know the dates for your graduation yet freddie?” sukuna asks. 

freddie glares at him. 

it makes his stomach lurch, thinking about him wearing a dark blue high school graduation gown and going to college a few months from now, when all he can remember is freddie biting him when he was trying to rangle him out of the car for the first day of third grade. 

“it’s september, dude. how would i know the dates already?” he responds, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

sukuna glares right back. he was getting just as snippy as alina. like mother like son he supposed. 

“okay fine. i’ll just retract the car i was planning on buying for you.” 

freddie’s eyes widen. he can already sense the immediate switch up. 

“you were going to buy me a car?” freddie asks. 

“going to. but you’ve got such a shit attitude that i’m reconsidering it.” sukuna responds. 

“cuidado con tus palabras! fuiste criado por lobos?” alina scolds. 

alina scuttles away to the other end of the bar to arrange the cups, as sukuna and freddie stifle down a laugh. 

“wolves? that means wolves right?” yuuji whispers. 

freddie shakes his head. 

“she gets more dramatic as time goes on. me wanting to move to new york doesn’t help either.” freddie responds. 

freddie was in the process of applying to colleges. three weeks ago, sukuna got an hour long run down from yuuji – that alina and freddie were in the midst of a big fight about him wanting to apply to colleges on the east coast and on the east coast only. 

safe to say that alina didn’t take it well. at all. he could feel the animosity lingering in the air from the way that they were glaring at one another. 

alina shortly returns and gives the two of them a look, before passing one of the freshly baked scones over to yuuji. it was a long standing tradition, to taste test the pastries for the day before the shop opened, and alina always showed her bias by letting yuuji take the first one. 

“none for us?” sukuna asks, wrapping his free arm around freddie’s shoulder. 

“maybe if you earned it.” alina responds. 

“and what did yuuji do to earn a scone? he’s been sitting on his ass all day.” freddie responds. 

alina shakes her head, before reaching forward to pinch yuuji’s cheek. 

“amor de mi vida, he’s always so sweet. the two of you should be taking notes. talking about staying up all night and sueños de new york.” alina responds, before walking away again. 

sukuna and freddie parse a glare for yuuji, who only smiles at the two of them gloatingly. 

“i can give lessons. you two have a lot to learn.” yuuji responds. 

“hilarious.” sukuna responds. 

“by the way, you don’t have to worry about the car. he’s just pulling your leg, we already bought it for your birthday.” yuuji responds. 

freddie widens her eyes, an excited smile spreading across his face as she looks up at sukuna, waiting for confirmation. he all but rolls his eyes, before yanking the key from his pocket. 

“did you really buy me a car?” he asks. 

“have to give it to you early since we’ll be in new york for premiere stuff next week.” yuuji responds. 

“senior year and all. have to drive there and go hang out with all your little friends, don’t you?” sukuna asks. 

freddie wraps him in a harsh hug, almost borderline painful, before scuttling over to yuuji’s side and doing the same. sukuna presses the key into his hand, letting yuuji show him the pictures on his phone, before shuffling over to the other side of the bar to where alina’s arranging the cups, to do some damage control. 

“you don’t have to worry about me. or freddie and his new car. you should worry about yuuji. and how hopeless he is.” sukuna jokes. 

sukuna can tell that she doesn’t find it funny. that freddie’s immediate excitement is something that worries her. 

“i should worry. about all of you. you can’t even put your shirt on the right way. you’d walk face first into the street if i didn’t worry about you.” she responds, tugging on the back of his shirt. 

sukuna lifts his hand to the back of his shirt, feeling the tag, as he feels his cheeks warm at being called out. he pulls the shirt over his head, readjusting it to the right way as she continues rambling. 

“yuuji is hopeless when it comes to love. pero, at least he’s sensible in the ways that matter. you and freddie, you think too much with your hearts. get a little reckless, too excited. yo pienso que you love him but he’s not responsible enough to take care of a car! and i’m going to call whoever is paying you because you should be more responsible with your money instead of buying him whatever he wants!” 

sukuna heaves a sigh. 

“creo que estas atacando porque no quieres que se mueva.” sukuna mutters. 

alina pinches her eyes shut. 

“of course i don’t want him to move away! do you know how far new york is?” 

“i’ll buy you a private jet. you can go see him whenever you want.” sukuna responds. 

alina reaches for the closest towel and smacks him with it. 

“you’re not funny. and he’s too young to move out there on her own. and you….you have some nerve saying yuuji’s hopeless in love. you’re even worse! don’t think i didn’t see what they were saying about you on the news two days ago.” she responds. 

sukuna rolls his eyes, before reaching forward and placing his hands on both of her shoulders. he squeezes hard, noting the stressed wrinkles that are imprinted into her forehead at this point, as he shoots her a smile. 

it’s moments like this where he feels bad for being reckless. when he’s reminded of the fact that he’s not the only one affected by his actions. 

“you should take things one day at a time. taking on so much does nothing for you, mi amor.” sukuna responds, mimicking her voice. 

“don’t repeat my words back to me.” she responds. 

“it’s good advice. you should take it. maybe worry less about freddie and new york and just focus on making sure he takes good care of the car and learns some responsibility. and yuuji is my responsibility, so i’m working on that.” sukuna responds. 

alina rolls her eyes. 

“and who’s going to work on you? you need some serious help too.” 

“i have to keep you in a job, one way or another.” he responds. 

sukuna hears the bell against the door ringing, accompanied by loud voices that he can instantly recognize. he watches as satoru, suguru, shoko, megumi, and nobara all stand at the front of the cash register, animated hands moving as they talk to yuuji and eye all the cameras. 

“which one is the boy?” 

“spiky hair.” yuuji responds. 

alina tilts her head to the side. 

“really? esto?” 

“trust me. he’s just as hopeless as yuuji. i think they’re made for each other.” sukuna whispers. 

sukuna pushes up off the counter and joins them at the register, trying to catch the end of their conversation. 

“sukuna and i have to sit out but we’d love to come.” yuuji states. 

“you’re no fun. it’s going to be such a great performance.” gojo whines. 

“plus, she’s like way more famous than all of us combined. it would be a good look for the show if we all go together.” shoko adds. 

“sit out of what?” sukuna asks. 

nobara turns over to him, a hand popped up on her hip. 

“megumi invited us to go watch y/n’s tiny desk performance with him. she told him that he could bring whoever he wanted since she knows about promotion for the show and all that and we’re all going so we can watch gojo shit his pants from excitement.” 

sukuna can feel his heart hammering in his chest. like it’s fate. 

like the stars are aligning in his favor, a clear cut sign from the universe that something was going to happen. that things were going to go his way. 

he looks back over at gojo, noting the tour merchandise shirts that he had seen on your website only hours prior, and feels his stomach lurch with excitement. 

at the opportunity. 

“i’m going.” sukuna responds. 

“what?” yuuji asks. 

sukuna shakes his head, almost too adamantly, as he reaches to unlock the cash register, now ready to speed through the interview and run over there right now. 

“we’re going.” sukuna repeats. 

“what about freddie’s car?” yuuji states. 

“we’ll drive it over afterwards. but pr is important and you know people will talk, so we should go.” sukuna whispers. 

yuuji narrows his eyes at him. 

“shouldn’t you be lying low? what if shoyo gets mad?” yuuji whispers. 

sukuna almost gets mad. at the thought of being stamped out of the opportunity in front of him. it’s why he responds so harshly. 

“you’re acting like i’m going to give an interview while i’m there. we’re just going to listen to her sing and leave.” sukuna seethes, convinced that the urgent tone is almost giving him away entirely. 

yuuji shrugs. but at the end, he gives in. and there’s a newfound energy as sukuna prepares to make drinks for the next two hours. 

--

--

the rest of the day, right up until he’s sitting in the front row seat waiting for you to come out, feels like a blur. he can barely remember the drive over, when his interview at the coffee shop ended, whatever it was that satoru was blabbing about in the car, because the sheer anticipation of possibility of a conversation was driving him insane. 

sukuna hadn’t exactly noted it yet, but he was too attached to the plan that he had dreamt up when he met you the night prior. maybe even obsessed with it, but that felt like it was a little on the nose. 

there was something extremely tantalizing and intoxicating about the thought – about getting revenge on aimee for tainting his good name so close to his show without having to do it himself, by getting a group of fans ready to rally behind him in the efforts that were being made to smear his name, and most importantly, getting to be around you and your snippy retorts you had offered him the night prior. 

it was making him sick to his stomach, thinking of all the different ways he could approach the prospect. singling out the best way to present it to you. thinking of all the mouthy responses that you’d give him in response. 

how does he get your phone number? he has to make sure that he finds out where you’re going next to make sure that if today doesn’t work out in his favor, he gets another chance to talk to you again. 

would he rub salt in the wound by bringing up your past with kim and aimee? or would that push your right over the edge into agreeing with him? there was clearly some vitriol there, if they were able to digress from dragging him under the bus to do it to you instead. 

and most importantly.

is his plan even viable? is it insulting for him to propose that you write fake songs about him to help his public image? surely there was nothing that you would gain from it, so was it even a legitimate thing for him to ask? 

the hours of research that he had done last night made it feel like he had a crystal clear image of what he needed to do. but the courage and bravery that he was feeling last night was dwindling close to almost nothing when he knew that you were only a few walls away, that he was subject to your mercy when it came to this entire thing. 

he thinks that the lack of sleep, coupled with the slight delusions that he’s entertaining at the current moment, are going to bite him in the ass.  

it’s right at that moment when he hears a clapping as you walk out onto the set, a purple guitar in your hand as you take a seat at the main stage. he can hear his heart beating in his ears, automatically stretching up in his seat as he watches you tuck your hair behind your ears and wave at the crowd in front of you. 

“hi guys! how are we doing today?” you ask, leaning into the microphone. 

there’s a resounding sound of cheers, one that you give a big smile to, as you press your hands to your chest to stop the beating. 

the facts are running through sukuna’s head. the purple guitar is the same one that you use on your tour. when you tour. the silver ring on your pointer finger is one that a fan gifted to you in lisbon. you learned how to play piano when you were five. 

“for those of you who are new here, i’m y/n. i’m so so flattered that npr invited me here to sing a few songs for you. i’m so excited to show you some of the new stuff i’ve been working on and play some old ones while i’m ahead. but yeah –” 

sukuna watches as you pause mid-sentence. he watches as you pause, almost in confusion, to the point where you stop talking. 

correction. 

sukuna watches as you pause mid-sentence at the exact moment that the two of you make eye contact. that you’re confused at his presence, that you recognize him, that it’s enough to warrant a pause. 

it sends a wave of elation through sukuna as he lifts his hand, giving you a polite wave from his seat, one that he watches you graciously return, with a sweet smile, before looping the strap of your guitar over your neck. 

sukuna pretends that it doesn’t make his heart swell up in hope, that he had elicited a reaction from you. that you returned the wave that he offered you. that this could go his way, in the slightest. 

“well, right. this first song is a new one that i’ve been working on. i wrote it around a few days ago after i went to this stupid afterparty from one of the events that my studio was holding and it’s about some of the company i’ve kept. it’s called girl i’ve always been.” you state.

"Baby doll, you have changed" That's the thing you always say Cursin' me, trash my name I rained all over your parade Now you're on my couch, you're fightin' tears You say I'm cruel beyond my years And as I'm walkin' out that door Say you don't know me anymore

sukuna quickly realizes that there’s something about singing that does it for you. because your entire demeanor changes. you relax your shoulders from the tense position they’re usually in, swing your hips to the beat of the song, and make very expressive facial expressions that seem even more lively than the videos he had watched all night. 

you seem electric. 

Well, I have captors I call friends I got panic rooms inside my head And I get down with crooked men But I am the girl I've always been I got wrapped up in the game again And you woke up in an empty bed And I can't say I'm a perfect ten But I am the girl I've always been 

“holy shit. i know jake’s somewhere shitting his pants over this.” nobara murmurs. 

“that’s what that dumbass gets for airing out that she wouldn’t have sex with him. like that’s something he’s entitled to.” megumi responds back. 

“an idiot like that probably thinks that he’s entitled to everything.” nobara responds. 

sukuna can feel his ears burning. his chest heaving – because there’s too much information, because he doesn’t know what to do with all of it – but he knows that it's important. that he could use it the way he needed, if he worded it right. 

jake was the guy from last night. he was friends with aimee, maybe a little too close with aimee, who you clearly weren’t fond of either. and if there was one thing that aimee was, it was possessive. jealous. angry when she felt that things weren’t going her way. 

that’s why she was so pissed when he ended it with her, since he was the one who had the upper hand. clearly she’d be even more mad if he retreated to the place that she hated the most – right into your arms. 

it almost feels like time is moving too fast, that his thoughts are plaguing the current moment, because before he knows it there’s a resounding sound of clapping, coupled with you leaving through the door on the left. 

he hadn’t even solidified what he wanted to say yet. 

sukuna’s not sure what wills him to act so quickly, but without saying anything to the group of them, he darts behind you and enters through the door, only to be welcomed to a darkly lit hallway and no sign of you. 

there’s a confusing mix of signs that are littered on the wall, none of which give him any aid towards finding the direction you went in, as he takes a sharp left turn and starts speeding across the plastic tiled floors. 

how could you have disappeared so fast? did he even go in the right direction? 

sukuna counts his lucky stars, because not even four doors down, he finds a paper tacked to the room, your name embellished in sparkly letters and glittering graphics as he reaches for the handle and opens the door. 

this was his chance. to spill it all out. 

his heart pounds as he opens the door, but much to his dismay, he finds the room empty and sans your presence. 

what the hell was he supposed to do now? 

but he takes the quiet moments to stake his claim, only because he figures – he hopes – that you’ll return here at some point as he takes a seat in the chair at the side. and even if you don’t, your belongings might have to give him some clue. at the very least, he could leave his phone number in here and pray that someone would return it to you. 

he’s drawn first to the vanity, the one that he figures you were sitting at only hours prior when you were getting ready for the performance. there’s an array of makeup spread across the table, a handwritten note at the top of the box. 

you’re a doll! good luck on your performance - mimi

your producer. the one that he had seen in the interviews, that you stated was like your sister. he categorizes the thought in his mind, trying to commit it’s importance to his memory. 

the next thing that catches his attention is a picture that’s tacked to the mirror on the left. 

he steals it off the glass, treasuring the image in his fingers, as he looks at it up close. he can recognize everyone in the picture – eren, mikasa, and historia – your self proclaimed friends that you talked about in almost every interview and megumi attached to your side on the right. 

he figures that you must be younger here, only because you look so different. your hair longer than it was currently, the smile on your face smaller than he’s ever seen it. he flips it over, noting the handwriting in the back, in each of the four corners. 

you’re the best friend i’ve ever had - mikasa 

my idol, always - historia 

the one and only love of my life (derogatory) - megumi 

cheering you on forever, star girl! - eren 

it only confuses him more, the premise of each of the messages. star girl means that it had to be recent, because your album had only come out a few months ago. then how could you look so different only a little while back? unless the picture was older? 

why you would feel inclined to tack it to the glass if you were only going to be here for a few hours. what did megumi mean by his statement? 

sukuna can feel his heart drop to the pit of his stomach as he hears the door swing open, coupled with the sight of you in the mirror, with a confused look plastered on your face. 

like a deer caught in headlights. 

“are you stalking me, princess bubblegum?” you ask. 

sukuna immediately drops the picture onto the vanity, turning around to find you standing there, a cup of iced coffee in your hand as you give him a sly smile. he lets out a nervous laugh, only at getting caught so blatantly.  

“just a very big fan, marceline.” he responds. 

you cross your hands over your chest, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“you weren’t even singing along.” you state. 

sukuna grins. 

“were you watching me?” 

“the pink hair is abhorrent. it’s almost hard not to.” you state. 

“most people are into the pink hair thing. it’s one of a kind, you know? and in my defense, two of those songs were new. i’m learning.” sukuna clarifies. 

you widen your eyes. he was too obvious. he was trying to be too obvious. 

“seems like someone’s been doing his homework.” you state. 

“i’m somewhat of an overachiever.” he responds. 

you push past him, taking a seat at the chair in the center of the vanity, and set the drink that megumi had got to you to the left. sukuna takes it as an invitation to invade your space, his hands braced against both of the armrests of his chair, his cheek lingering against your shoulder. 

“i made the drink for you, you know?” sukuna asks. 

“i have a sneaking suspicion that you didn’t know it was for me.” you state. 

“if i did, i would have written you a little note on the cup. i only do that for girls who are special, you know?” 

you roll your eyes. 

“and what did i do to gain such favor in your eyes?” 

sukuna smiles at you through the mirror. 

“i find you impressive. i’m entirely fascinated by how you work and i…i want to know more. i have a feeling that you and i could be very useful to each other.” 

you set the glass down on the vanity. 

“i’m guessing you didn’t just insist on showing up to my tiny desk, despite the fact that you were supposed to giving someone a car? for nothing. was there something you wanted from me? because i’d rather you be straightforward and say it to me instead of speaking in tongues.” you state. 

sukuna clicks his tongue in his cheek. megumi must have told you – surely you couldn’t be that good at predicting everything. 

“perceptive. are you always like this, princess?” sukuna asks. 

“does that bother you? it’s something you’ll have to get used to.” you ask. 

“quite the contrary. i enjoy a challenge.” 

you hum, twisting the plastic of the straw in your fingers. 

“really. what do you want?” you ask. 

sukuna nods, before crossing the way and leaning against the edge of your vanity at your side. 

“i think that you and i could be really useful to each other. i know that you’re not particularly fond of aimee, of jake and all of his bullshit, and i’m not either. that and the fact that she blocked you from getting the number one spot when you clearly had the better song.” 

sukuna watches your eye twitch. he’s found the soft spot. the thing that irritates you.

losing.

“your show is about to get tanked by whatever it is she has coming next.” you retort back. 

sukuna grins. he’s got you exactly where he wants you. you wouldn't get defensive if it didn't bother you.

“you know about my show? have you been stalking me?” 

you feel your cheeks burn. 

“because of megumi, sweetheart. nothing more nothing less.” 

sukuna feels his chest pang slightly, from the embarrassment. because of course you know about the show from megumi. 

“right, well. seriously. it would really piss them off if you started dating me, even if it was just for looks. what they don’t know won’t hurt them.” 

you sigh, pushing off the edge of your chair, as you stand close to him. and you’re able to smell it again, the minty musk, as you give him a smile. 

“i know that you know aimee. i don’t give a fuck about jake, but i do know that people who are as egotistical as that tend to get possessive. especially about things that aren’t theirs. and as scathing as your songs are, there’s one surefire way to piss them both off – to get two birds with one stone.” 

you ponder over the thought. and sink into your chair about how much he’s thought about this, caught off guard by the fact that he’s got it entirely on the nose. 

but you can’t. you need time to think. you don’t even know who he is. 

“i appreciate the offer. but, i’m not interested in getting tangled up with them again.” you state. 

“they started it already. you don’t want to bite back?” sukuna goads, leaning in closer to your cheek.  

“i’m not the type.” you respond. 

sukuna pauses. 

“from what i’ve seen, i don’t necessarily think that's true.” 

“do you think you’ve got me all figured out, sukuna?” you ask. 

he loves the way his mouth rolls off your tongue and the accusatory tone in your voice when you say it. like you’re trying to get him to take the bait, like the two of you are playing a game. 

and he leans closer, smiling down at you as he wraps he cups your cheek with his left hand, before pinching at your cheek. 

“i’m almost positive that i do.” he responds. 

and he’s quick with it, reaching forward and tucking the stray strands of your hair behind your ear, before reaching for your hand, and scribbling something onto your palm.

you only look down at your hand when he retreats, his phone number inked on your hand. 

“either way, you know where to find me if you change your mind.” he states, before slamming the door shut behind him. 

you think about it. think about it all night, the way his hand felt against your cheek, the warmth in his smile, why you even saved the number in the first place.

would it even make sense to help him? would they really be so mad the way that he anticipated?

the thoughts rumble through your mind , over and over, until something pushes you over the edge, right into his hand. 

[hisu]: SOS CHECK TWITTER 

[hisu]: WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP 

[hisu]: AIMEE STOLE YOUR SONG

--

--

next part linked here

an: anyways.

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[gotta-winwin]

2019 debut year <> slipping into to the diamond life

word count: 2.3k TW: fatigue, one swear word, woozi being kind of mean italics are in english, bolded words are in mandarin

Cyana woke up to the sound of pots and pans clanging heavily in the kitchen. Rubbing her eyes, she got up from her spot on the bed, padding as quietly as possible past a sleeping Minghao towards the open door. She winced as she walked, her leg muscles screaming in protest and her knees aching from last night's practice.

She found that she was pleasantly surprised at how easy her transition into life with Seventeen was. The rigorous schedule was not unlike her time at Disney, and it helped that she was still shielded behind the walls of Pledis. It also helped that Seungcheol had confiscated her phone the moment she moved in, insisting that she didn't need it and looking on SNS would not help her at all. She was grateful for the little things like that that he did.

Walking into the kitchen, her eyes squinting as she adjusted to the bright lights, she could just make out a blurry figure standing at the stove. Mentally, she scolded herself for forgetting her glasses on her nightstand.

"Who's there?" She asked tentatively, hoping it was one of the members and not an intruder. She was also hoping that it wasn't Woozi, who was often absent from home but came back at odd hours.

"Dino." The blurry figure stated, and Cyana could feel his stare on her. "Breakfast?" He asked, gesturing at whatever was on the stove.

She shook her head. The staff had her on a strict diet as they prepared for her upcoming debut and comeback. "I'm going to go wash up. But thanks."

Dino grunted, clearly still half asleep as he returned his attention back on whatever he was making.

Tiptoeing back into her and Minghao's room, she quickly snatched her glasses before heading for the bathroom. She had learned pretty quickly upon arriving that it was best to wake up early, as the bathroom became messy and crowded the later it got. Splashing her face with cold water and tying her hair back, she stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her stylist had died her hair blonde for the comeback, insisting that it complimented her skin tone better than brown. She didn't know how to feel about that. The girl in the mirror looked more like a stranger.

"yue liang~" Minghao knocked twice on the bathroom door. "We're all leaving soon."

She blinked. Had that much time passed already? She knew it was a terrible habit of hers to zone out and realized she had been getting ready mindlessly. She cleared her throat. "I'll be out in a second!" She called, hoping she sounded normal.

Today was a big day for her. The company had organized an interview for Seventeen to promote their new comeback, and she knew the main focus of it would inevitably land on her. Shaking her shoulders, she joined the others by the front door, pulling on her shoes and jacket.

"It's still snowing today, nana." Joshua wrapped a scarf around her neck, tucking the ends into her jacket collar. "You have to be healthy for our comeback."

She gave him a grateful smile. They'd grown close over the few weeks since she'd moved in and her Korean had begun to steadily improve thanks to his help. "Thanks, shua."

Cyana didn't expect how hectic the interview set would be, as she was ushered from station to station, foreign hands touching up her hair and makeup and outfit. The set ran in an orderly fashion compared to the sets in LA and she appreciated the speed in which everything was done. Her stomach was hurting due to the nerves and she couldn't help but feel a impending sense of doom settling on her chest. Getting mic'ed up, she took her seat next to Seungcheol, frowning a bit when she realized she was sat in the middle.

"Do I have to be in the middle?" She asked, leaning slightly towards him to whisper.

He gave her an apologetic smile. "Yes. We look the most balanced that way."

She supposed he was right. She could see them through the viewfinder of one of the biggest cameras, and they looked quite symmetrical.

"You got this!" DK tapped her shoulder from behind, smiling brightly from his place to the left. "Fighting!"

She told herself to relax. They all seemed to believe in her, and she had rehearsed many times over with Joshua while Seungcheol monitored. He must've believed she could do it if they were here now. The red light on the camera blinked to life and Cyana straightened her back. She was hyperaware of the fact that Wonwoo's knees were pressed up against her back, an unfortunate result of their seating arrangement.

"Seventeen interview - You Made My Dawn, take one."

"You did great." Joshua said to her, as the red light ceased blinking and the producer called the end of the interview. "Just like we practiced." She looked up and behind her at his happy expression.

"I think I blacked out during the whole process." She confessed, truly not remember anything that had happened.

He laughed and so did Vernon, who overheard from the very end of the line. "It gets easier. I remember our first interview. No one remembered anything until we watched the video online. It was the nerves."

"You were good." Seungcheol returned to the group, having left to speak to their manager. "They let me watch a portion of it. You did well."

Cyana smiled shyly at the praise. "Thank you. I'm glad."

Raising his voice, Seungcheol addressed everyone as a whole. "We're heading back to the company since a few members from the vocal team need to rerecord some lines for Hug. Everyone else needs to practice our performance for Getting Closer. The spin isn't coordinated perfectly yet."

Murmurs of agreement came from the group as everyone got up to leave. Returning her mic pack, Cyana hurried to catch up with Joshua, looping her arm with his as they followed the group out to the cars.

"We're rerecording things?" She asked, confused. She thought they'd all sounded pretty good.

Joshua hesitated and nodded. "Woozi wants to clean up a couple parts. I won't be going though, he said he just needed you and Jeonghan."

She paled. "Can't you-" She stopped, knowing her request was selfish. Time was precious during comeback season and Joshua was needed with the rest of the group.

He sent her an understanding smile, his eyes shining with warmth. He knew she was terrified. "Jeonghan's nice." He offered.

"I know he is, I'm just-" She paused, twisting her fingers in worry. "What if I say something wrong in Korean? Or if I mess up recording."

They had arrived in front of their cars now, needing to spilt up between three separate vehicles. "They're not scary people, Ana. Even if Woozi might seem like it, he understands that people make mistakes. And you sang beautifully last session. I'm sure he probably just wants to add more adlibs or something."

Cyana nodded, a little soothed by his explanation. "Thanks, shua."

He nodded, knowing that there was much more hidden in the simple thanks. "Anytime, Ana."

The atmosphere within the recording studio was stiff and heavy. It was Cyana's seventh time recording the same verse now, finishing each time only to receive a sharp sigh from Woozi.

"Again." He'd say over the intercom, and Cyana would go again.

She was getting a bit sick of the verse, and her skin was growing hotter by the second from both the humidity of the room and her growing annoyance. She was no stranger to producing, she'd dabbled in it before, and she knew the track already sounded extremely polished. The longer Woozi dragged it out for the more she felt like he was toying with her for the sake of it.

"Jihoon ya~" Jeonghan lounged on the couch behind Woozi, bored. "She sounds great, don't you think it's enough?"

Woozi shook his head. "She sounds great. Not perfect. We need perfect this comeback."

Jeonghan signed. "People will not hear the difference-"

"I will hear the difference." Woozi snapped. He pressed the intercom and spoke into the mic. "Again."

"At least give her some direction." Jeonghan chided. "You're only making her angry."

Woozi sighed, knowing his hyung was right. He didn't really know why he was so annoyed at the girl. Her verse was great, but there was that part of it that was missing. He pressed the intercom again once Cyana was finished. A little better, he thought. "Can you try singing with more strength?" He asked, unsure how to communicate exactly what he was envisioning. "More power, but soft."

Cyana scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion, putting the headphones back on. "Okay."

He was used to directing his members who already knew how he worked and what he needed done - what he was picturing in his mind. Cyana's next try came easier, and he could tell they were almost there.

"Better, again-"

"I think that's enough." Jeonghan cut in, sensing Cyana's growing frustration and Woozi's annoyance. He didn't particularly want to be in the room if they both exploded at each other.

"I'm okay." Cyana spoke, surprising both of them. "Let's keep going. I want to get this right."

Woozi turned his chair around to face Jeonghan, a look of i told you so written across his face. "You can leave if you want, hyung. We're already finished with your verse." He could sense Jeonghan's hesitancy. Rolling his eyes, he added "I'll walk with her back to the practice room. And I promise I won't yell at her or whatever."

The older boy scoffed but still got up to leave. "I'm more worried you'll end up killing each other and we'll be 12 instead of 14."

It was Woozi's turn to scoff, as he turned back to the soundboard and cued Cyana to start again. He had to begrudgingly admit that he pleasantly surprised at her dedication and felt a little bad for being a bitch.

"That one was good." He spoke into the mic, signalling the end of the session. "You're done."

Cyana took a little bit to reset herself before exiting the booth. She paused, lingering near the doorway as Woozi watched her, confused. "Can I-" She breathed out sharply. "Can I listen? Just once."

He frowned, but sat back down and cued up the completed track for her. He watched as she gingerly sat down on the couch, hands bunched in her lap as she listened silently. He was proud of this particular track. It evoked a feeling of home and comfort that only translated well if done correctly, and he had somehow managed to pull it off.

Cyana stood up to leave once the track was over, hesitating again near the doorway.

"For god's sake. Just spit it out." Woozi grumbled, annoyed at her hesitancy.

"I-" She blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

Woozi sighed when he remembered she probably didn't understand. Joshua probably didn't go around teaching Cyana what for god's sake and spit it out was in Korean. "Just say it. Whatever you wanted to say."

She paused. "It's at 135 BPM right now." She said quietly. "I think it'll sound better at 138."

Woozi blinked. Cyana pushed open the studio door and dashed out, scared of what he might say. Rushing in the direction of their practice room, she sighed in relief when she saw Seungkwan and Hoshi's familiar back profile.

"Hi." She breathed out, still breathless from the rush over.

They both seemed surprised but happy to see her. "Hey," Seungkwan replied, handing her a pinny he had been holding with her name on it. "We were just about to go look for you. Put that on, we're filming a choreo video to send to the event people today."

She nodded, throwing it over her baggy tee. "Sorry. Recording took a bit long."

Hoshi gave her a smile. "That's Woozi for you."

"Go get some water," Seungkwan reminded, throwing an arm around both her and Hoshi's shoulders, leading them towards the practice room. "You aren't too tired, right?"

Cyana knew she was a bit worn out. She hadn't slept for long last night, having been up till the AMs worrying about the interview. Her limbs screamed with pain every time someone reminded her she still had to dance. The roll in Getting Closer was killing her. Each time she spun, her world spun, and she had to continue the routine with obscured vision as tv static overtook her view. She gave Seungkwan a bright smile. "I'm still doing great." She lied, feeling better once she saw the relief shining through his eyes. "We're going to kill this choreo." She said, trying to pump herself up.

Hoshi frowned. "Kill this choreo?" He asked, a little confused.

"Ah~ like 'we're going to do very well." Seungkwan deduced.

Hoshi, upon seeing Cyana nod in confirmation, grinned as they entered the practice room. He greeted the others with a loud "We gonna kill this choreo!" and Seungkwan clutched onto Cyana as they doubled over in laughter. Everyone else looked mildly confused, while Vernon and Joshua could only share smiles at the chaos.

Seungcheol clapped for everyones attention as they all gathered in the middle of the room, cameras and staff both ready. Cyana noticed that Woozi had somehow gotten here as well, his own pinny on and his hair covered with a beanie. "Okay. We're going to do this choreo well and with no accidents, okay?"

Collective words of encouragement and cheers filled the room at his words as everyone took their place. Cyana tried her best to ignore how unnaturally light her head was feeling and knelt beside DK.

"Three." The director counted down. Cyana sent a weak smile in DK's direction.

"Two." She ran through the moves desperately in her mind.

"One."

author's note: thank you so much for reading! i know it's kind of on a cliffhanger haha thank you to everyone who's shown this series love ~ ik woozi's kind of mean right now but i promise it will all pay off soon

[heyheydidjaknow]

After a very long week of diving headfirst into this fandom I think it’s only right that the champagne bottle we smash into this here ship is a four thousand word Chuuya x reader. Here’s to what I’m sure will be another few years of this, everyone; hope everyone is down.

Candies

He was glaring at you.

You had no idea when he got on the train. You did not care enough to wonder. What you knew was that he— the man in the hat on the opposite side of the train car— had been looking at you for the past three stops, and while you were fairly certain that you had no idea who he was, you were almost as certain that whoever he thought you were had another thing coming from how intensely he was watching you. Sure, he had the decency to look embarrassed by his staring, but that in no way stopped him from looking at you like you had something to apologize for. It was disconcerting. It was borderline creepy. But neither of you moved, because it was a train, and the two of you would not see each other again anyway.

The train slowed to a stop. Most people filed off. You did not. Neither did the man. You checked your watch, head falling back as you considered the pros and cons of waiting for the next train. You would have to eat dinner late, but you would not have to wonder why exactly he seemed to hate you this much for nothing.

You heard the rustling of clothing next to you. “Excuse me.”

You opened your eyes to the man. You took him in, identified any features that might be helpful for a police report: cold eyes, reddish hair, too many layers. Pretty, but not reassuring. You pulled your headphones off, fearing the worst. “May I help you?”

A pause.

You smiled tentatively. “Is something wrong?”

“I’ll give you five hundred thousand yen if you’ll go out with me.”

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

Reality seemed to catch up with him. “Shit. Uh.” He pulled his hat off, fiddling with the brim as he lowered his eyes. “Is that too little? I can go higher.”

“Do you think I’m a hooker?”

“Huh?”

You leaned away from him a bit. “What kind of thing is that to ask someone? ‘What’s your price?’ Seriously?”

The realization seemed to strike him like a baseball bat to the head. He immediately backpedaled. “That’s not— shit, I mean, that’s not what I meant to—“ he stammered. “I— no, I didn’t mean anything like that!”

“Yeah?” You raised your eyebrows. “That work for most people, asking them what they charge for a night? For fuck’s sake, man.”

“Hey!” He sat up, defensive. “I never said I wanted to take you home!”

You crossed your arms. “Then what exactly are you trying to do?”

“Ask you on a date!”

“You sure have a funny way of doing it.”

He huffed, face red. “Look,” he grumbled, “I don’t ask many people on dates; I’m trying my best here.”

“You could just ask me,” you pointed out. “You could ask me in a way that doesn’t involve offering me money.”

He rolled his eyes, seemingly— and audaciously— annoyed. “I can’t just walk up to a stranger and ask them on a date. Why would you go? You don’t know me; what if I’m a creep? How do you know if I’m worth the time?”

An incredulous smile crept onto your lips. “And you thought that offering me money would make you seem less creepy?”

“At least then you have a reason to show up! At least then I have a financial interest in showing you a good time!” He buried his face in his hands. “It took me a while to get this far and my stop is next and I do not have the time nor ability to actually woo you.”

The absurdity of this whole situation— the sight of an extravagantly dressed pretty boy bemoaning his romantic failings— was starting to get to you. “This all seems like a lot for someone you just met.”

He sat up quickly, steam practically pouring from his ears. “Well,” he explained seemingly in an attempt to regain some composure, “I may not know you yet, but I know that I’ve never seen anyone who looks as good as you do, and we’re on a train; I may never get the chance to see you again if I don’t do something right this second.”

You grinned. “Really?”

“Really. I am fucking this up.”

“A bit,” you agreed. “But you’re bringing it back around, calling me hot.”

He brightened. “I am?”

You shrugged. “More or less, yeah.”

His hands were shaking. You wondered how long they had been doing that. “Well,” he mumbled, “does that mean your answer isn’t a hard no?”

You leaned back in your seat. “I can be convinced,” you said. “Try again.”

He cleared his throat. “Hello.” He made eye contact with you again, the sharpness you had assumed was being weaponized against you seemingly inherent in his gaze. You tried, for a moment, to make out what color his eyes were, but the answer seemed to elude you. “My name is Nakahara Chuuya.”

“Hello, Nakahara Chuuya.” You crossed your legs. “See, this is better. Keep going.”

He gave you a confused look. You liked him, you decided. “Well,” he continued, disgruntled, “I couldn’t help but notice you. You’re easy to see.”

“Interesting word choice, but alright.”

He shot you a look. “You’re nice to look at. Is that better?”

Your smile softened. “Much. Keep going.”

He looked down at his hat. “I was wondering,” he continued, “if you were already spoken for.”

You snorted. “Spoken for?”

“Single,” he amended, irritated. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You stretched out your legs in front of you, thoroughly enjoying this. “I am both single and without boyfriend,” you assured him.

He nodded sternly. “Then, can I take you out? On a date?”

You considered it for a moment. “Yeah, sure.”

He blinked. “Really?”

“Really.” You leaned back in your seat. “You’re cute, and I don’t think you’ll murder me, and those are my two big requirements, so.”

He chuckled. “High bars. No wonder you’re single.”

“What can I say? I’m hard to please.” You dug around in your coat for a pen, holding your palm up towards you. “What’s your number?”

The redhead paused. “I don’t have a number right now,” he said. “I’m having trouble with my provider. I can give you a time and place, though.” He held out a gloved hand. “May I?”

You gave him the pen and your bare hand. Quickly, he scribbled down an address (someplace in Yokohama), a date (the next Saturday) and a time (six o’clock). As he finished, the train came to a halt at the platform, doors opening with a quiet hiss.

Nakahara Chuuya stood up, fixing his pork pie hat securely atop his head before straightening out his clothes and giving you a stiff nod. “I will see you then,” he promised. “If you’re late by more than fifteen minutes, I’ll assume you stood me up.”

You gave the strange man a smile. “I’ll come early, then.”

He averted his eyes. “Thank you.” And with that, he left you on the train with a date, a time, and a great deal of confusion.

Foolishly, you showed up. You lived neither in nor near Yokohama. Getting to the address the man had given you— which he wrote with poor penmanship— took you some time too. You went through the trouble of dressing as well as he had been the day you met him— which was more formal than you would typically be for a first date with a stranger you met on a train— and went so far as to plan to be there fifteen minutes early. You had no idea why you were so interested in the man. You had no inclination as to what possessed you to show up to meet a stranger in the first place; after all, his assumption that you might think of him as some sort of predator would have been a reasonable one to make. But you had an inarticulable feeling that told you that this meeting would be worth your time.

Or you just thought he was pretty. You weren’t sure which it was.

The address he had given you brought you to a small restaurant close to the Tsurumi river which, if its sign was to be believed, primarily dealt in soba. Despite your planning, you arrived a mere five minutes early instead of fifteen which, in your defense, was still early, but apparently not so early that your date did not beat you there. As you approached him, a look of bewilderment briefly crossed his face.

“Damn,” you joked. “I thought I’d get here first.”

He looked over your shoulder. “You came,” he said, sounding surprised.

“I did,” you confirmed.

“Alone.”

“I was unaware I was meant to bring a plus one on a date.”

“No, I just mean—“ He stopped himself. “Whatever. I’m glad you came.”

You held your hands behind your back. “So am I, though I’m feeling a bit self conscious now.” You looked down at your clothes, then back to his. He had dressed much more casually than you in a loose, short sleeve button up, loose pants and a large dark jacket. He had kept the hat and the choker— which you had not until that moment realized you remembered— but you looked too formal next to him. “I thought you would dress the way you did on the train.”

He gave you a once over. “You look fine,” he said. “You look great, actually. Don’t worry about it.”

A smile spread across your face. “You've gotten more confident since then, too. I just wanted to make sure I didn’t look totally plain next to you is all; you look so stylish.”

He paused, eyes cast down towards his feet. “Thank you. I drank before I came.” He opened the door to the restaurant for you.

You walked past him. “Thank you. Did you drive?”

“Nah.” He shut the door behind the two of you. “This place is out of the way enough to make it not worth the trouble to park. I walked.” He nodded to the hostess, who sat the two of you in a corner away from the door.

The restaurant was a hole-in-the-wall: exposed crossbeams, warmly lit, nearly empty despite it being a Saturday. You took your seat across from him as the woman set a cup of water in front of each of you, leaving you to your conversation. She made no eye contact with either of you before she left. You picked up your cup, taking a sip as he draped his coat over the back of the seat and set his hat beneath his chair. The gloves, however, stayed on. “How long was the walk?” you asked.

“Not far. A couple minutes.” His elbows came to rest on the table. “I can walk you back to your car if you drove, or to the train station if you need. Just let me know.”

“Thank you.” You took a menu from the center of the table, scanning it absently. “To be honest, I’m glad you asked me to do something earlier in the evening; I’m not super interested in being on my own in the dark.”

He hummed in agreement. “Nobody does. I have work to take care of later, but I can’t imagine wanting to stay out past twelve alone otherwise.”

You groaned sympathetically. “Terrible. What do you do?”

He paused. “I… it’s complicated.” He laced his fingers together. “I operate a shipping company under a parent organization operating out of Yokohama. I technically and practically own the shipping company, but I can’t legally operate it unless it’s under the parent organization, so I have all the stress of a business owner with none of the freedom.”

Your lips twitched nervously. “Are you on a list or something? Why can’t you operate a business?”

“What do you– oh.” The brief look of confusion left his face. “I’m a skill user.”

“A what?”

“You know,” he repeated, “a skill user?”

You stared at him blankly.

“I have a gift?”

“Isn’t that a dog whistle?”

“What? No!” He crossed his arms. “I have supernatural abilities.”

You considered it. “You know,” you mused, “I’ve never been on a date with a guy who came out as being possessed to me.”

He opened his mouth to protest, blinked. “Well,” he conceded, “I guess that’s what I’m saying, but that would be a bad assumption most of the time; most gifted users aren’t possessed.”

“Wait, seriously?” Skepticism and deep curiosity battled for supremacy in your mind. “By what?”

He shrugged. “A god, I guess?”

“You guess?”

“It’s complicated.” To your– and his– surprise, he laughed. “It’s funny; I can’t think of the last time I had to actually explain what my deal was.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Do most people just know?”

“More or less.” He shrugged again, looking towards the door. “It’s practical. I use it a lot.”

“I see.” You sat up, taking your cup and turning it over in your hands. “What does it do?”

He did not say anything for a second, brow furrowing. He looked back in your direction, holding out his hand. “Give me your cup.”

You did.

He set the cup down on the table. Slowly, as though it had been set in a pool of water, the cup began to float upwards. “My ability,” he explained simply, clearly taking pride in the way your eyes lit up in excitement and awe, “allows me to manipulate gravity for any object I touch.”

You reached out towards the cup, moving your hand above and below it. If there was a trick to what he was doing, you had no idea what it was. “That is so freakin’ cool,” you gushed softly. “How can you keep it from flying away?”

He was practically glowing. “Basically, I’m counteracting the force of Earth’s gravity for just this object by creating a second center of gravity that only affects the cup.” He pointed to a spot near the center of cup. “It’s around here. So long as the force of the gravitational field I'm creating is greater than Earth’s, the cup will naturally try and be as close to the center as possible. If the gravitational pull were too strong, the cup would go through that point–” he pointed towards the ceiling, “-- and through the roof before coming back down. But if the force is weak, it’ll stay right around the center.”

You took the cup, moving it towards you before letting go. As if attached to a string, the cup moved back to its place, the water inside is sloshing.

The pure, childlike joy on your face was enough for the man across from you to forget, for a moment, the price of his gift.

The date continued on. The two of you went back and forth on a variety of simple, surface level topics. You learned that Chuuya was a dog person and that he enjoyed fashion. He said he had been in Yokohama practically all his life. He told you about his coworkers– no details, but enough to get a sense for the type of Motley Crew they were– and how that day was an anniversary for something, though he never got around to telling you what it was an anniversary of. At one point, before your food had gotten to the table, you asked about his gloves, which he had apparently not realized he was still wearing. He explained that he wore them all the time– he said it made work easier– but that he did have the good sense to take them off.

“I’m not a monster,” he had insisted. “I don’t want to get food on them.”

The conversation was surprisingly easy. He was nervous at first and clearly inexperienced– an observation that you chose to keep to yourself– but funny and over dramatic in a way that made the discussions flow jovially between the two of you. He was a sailor-mouthed, irreverent, sensitive man, you found, and he seemed to take great pleasure in your company and a surprising interest in the more tedious parts of your life: your occupation, your friends, your earlier life, all of which he found strangely fascinating. Though you knew little of substance about him by the end of the meal you shared, you could not shake the feeling that the sort of things you learned– the simple, stupid things most people gave out as icebreakers– held more weight than you could understand.

But you were grateful, nonetheless. You enjoyed talking to him.

Despite your protests, he paid for the both of you, and the two of you left the restaurant cracking up over some embarrassing story about school.

“Three days straight?”

You waved him off, laughter still bubbling from your throat. “I know; it was stupid!” you cried. “I swear I was possessed; by the end of it I thought there was a chance– assuming I didn’t have heart attack first– that I was immortal.” You sighed, trying to regain composure; you were gigglier than normal. “But I passed the class, so fuck that guy.”

He set his hat back on his head, pushing it down to rest snugly. “Fuck that guy,” he agreed, having about as much success as you did in wiping the stupid smile off his face. “God– being a teenager fucking sucked.”

“Dude, amen to that.” You looked in his direction, tears from the cold and from excessive laughter in your eyes. “Chuuya,” you sighed happily, “I am having an excellent time.”

“What a coincidence,” he grinned. “So am I.”

You looked up at the sky, which was significantly darker than you thought it would be; you supposed that you had spent more time in the restaurant than you thought. “I shouldn’t walk back to the station any later on my own, though.” You slipped your hands into your own pockets. “So–”

“Can you stand to be out later if I can get you back to the train?” He cleared his throat, apparently hearing the eagerness in his voice as clearly as you did. It was the same eagerness he had when he first asked you here. “What time is it?”

You took your phone from your coat, flipping it open. “Nine-ish.”

“Nine?” He pursed his lips. “Shit, I— no, I can make that work.” He leaned his weight onto one side. “I have to get somewhere at eleven, but it’s not a formal thing.” He looked away, swallowing. “If you want to, I mean.”

You held out your hand to him. “Nothing in this moment would make me happier than spending more of my time with you, Chuuya.” You wiggled your fingers in invitation. “Where should we go?”

He was staring at you, at your body bathed in the warm light streaming from the restaurant’s windows, at your face which betrayed nothing but pure intentions, to your hand which you offered him freely. He wondered if you knew how easy it would be to kill you if he touched you. He wondered if that was something someone like you considered at all.

“Chuuya?”

He blinked, clearing his throat. It did not matter. He took your hand. “Sorry.” He was breathless. “Lost in thought.”

You let him pull you closer, nudging him playfully with your side. “You’ll end up swallowing a fly if you keep your mouth open like that,” you teased. “Do you really like looking at me that much?”

He straightened up, heat flushing his cheeks. “So what if I do?”

“Well, I don’t imagine it’d taste very good.”

He snorted. “Shut up.” He nudged you back, looking forward. “We can sit by the river for a while if you’d like; the streets will be sketchy here pretty soon but nobody goes by the part of the river we’re by.”

“Really? How come?”

He shrugged. “It’s impractical. Nobody important goes to the river, anyway.”

“Nobody important?”

“Huh? Oh, right; you’re not from around here.” He looked back in the direction of the river, starting to lead the two of you there. “The Port Mafia doesn’t dump bodies into the rivers; they throw them out by the dock.”

“The mafia?” You started. “What, like La Cosa Nostra?”

“What you do and don’t know is really confusing.” He rolled his eyes. “The Port Mafia is a smuggling ring operating primarily out of the city; it has nothing to do with the Italian mob.”

“Oh.” You squeezed his hand, following close behind. “That’s terrifying.”

“It is?”

“To know that people are just chucking bodies frequently enough that you know about it? And that there’s more than one group doing it?” You tittered nervously. “I mean, I’d heard a little about Yokohama, but I didn’t know it was that bad.”

He squeezed your hand back, looking over his shoulder in your direction. A wry smile crossed his face. “Huh. That’s funny.”

You walked a bit faster to stay beside him. “What’s funny?”

“That you think it’s weird. I guess it never occurred to me that it was strange.” He tugged you to his side. “You don’t need to be scared, though; I’ll protect you.”

“Oh, will you?”

He shot you a look. “What,” he challenged, “you don’t think I can?”

“I never said that,” you protested. “It was just a very old-fashioned thing to say.” You lowered your voice to a growl. “‘Don’t worry, dollface; I’ll protect you.’ It sounds like something you’d hear in a noir.”

He opened his mouth to argue, considered it. “I guess if you found that weird, that would be an odd thing to say, wouldn’t it?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Because what would you need protecting from?”

“Exactly.”

A funny look came onto his face. “That’s funny,” he repeated. “That’s…” He trailed off, slowing to a stop on the road.

You looked back at him. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled. “Just that…” Startling eyes– they seemed to shine under the streetlamps– met yours. “You said you stayed up for three days straight,” he said. “Do you sleep well now?”

You looked away. “I don’t know if I sleep well, exactly; I don’t sleep as much as I should, at least.”

“But it feels normal, doesn’t it? To not sleep much?”

“I suppose.” You turned to face him properly.

His gaze shifted from you to the sky. “You know, I just remembered something.” He started to walk again, pulling you behind. “When I was little, none of us– none of the people I hung out with– had much pocket money, so we made a game out of stealing from the convenience stores in town. The competition was to see who could pay for as little as possible without getting banned from the store. I was never really good at it because I was an easy to read kid, but I remember always going for those… what do you call them? Bonbons?” He made a circle with his thumb and forefinger. “The little wrapped chocolates. I’d always shove one into my pocket because they were always left out and who’s going to give a kid shit for taking a piece of candy?”

You followed beside him quietly, watching him.

He continued. “The other day,” he said, “I went into a convenience store for the ATM, and I must have withdrawn twenty thousand yen or something like that– a good amount. I bought a pack of gum before I left because I didn’t want to be the asshole that just uses an ATM and leaves, and I realized– I think I’d walked a block away when I did– that I had one of those candies in my pocket.” He led you off the path. “I guess I must’ve picked it up while I was paying for the gum. They weren’t even the good chocolates; they were the hundred yen ones, and I knew why I’d grabbed that piece– because nobody’s going to lose their mind over a hundred whatever yen– but I couldn’t for the life of me remember why I’d grabbed it.”

The two of you came to a stop by the riverbed. It was quiet for a Saturday. The water shone under the moonlight, and the man beside you– whose gaze was now transfixed by the reflection– stood next to you, seemingly lost in thought.

You never let go of his hand. “Being a kid kinda sucks,” you said, running your thumb over his clothed knuckles. “You usually don’t have many responsibilities, but you don’t know enough to know what you should and shouldn’t get involved with.”

He looked to you.

“And you get so jealous of the Huck Finn kids– you know the type: no responsibilities, nobody to tell them no– until you get older and realize– too late– that the habits you picked up when you were left to your own devices probably weren’t the healthiest, but by the time you put that together they’re so deeply encoded in your being that they’re a part of who you are and part of how you got this far, so even if they’re unhealthy it’s not like you can give them up now.” You shivered. “It’s frustrating, looking back and thinking about what you could’ve been.”

The two of you stood there, staring at the water. Chuuya wrapped an arm around your shoulders, trying, in vain, to keep you from the cold.

Finally, he spoke. “I don’t think I’ve ever had this kind of conversation with anyone before.”

You closed your eyes, leaning against him. “It’s funny,” you said. “I don’t think I have either.”

His voice was soft. “I want to see you again.”

“So do I.”

“Then we should.”

“We should.”

You did.

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | epilogue

[chap seventeen] | [all chapters here]

Story Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, dysfunctional family dynamics, idiots-to-lovers, smut & nsfw themes

a/n: Well, we've finally made it, everyone, and I'm feeling emotional about it. This epilogue is just a lil something I thought up while I was considering what the future would hold for Eddie and ice princess, and I love it dearly.

wc: 3.2k

Epilogue

September 1985

I want to be somewhere big and interesting. New York, L.A.… fuck, even Florida for all I care, I just want out of Hawkins, out of this town.” “Then I guess we’ll be those high school sweethearts that run off to L.A. together after graduation, huh?” “Oh, I’m sure.”

September 1987

Eddie should’ve been home by now. You’d memorized his work schedule within his first week of starting at VIP Records, so you knew his shift always ended at 6pm on Tuesdays - so where the hell was he? It was nearly 8:30, and you’d been getting more and more antsy as the minutes ticked by, worrying over what could possibly be delaying him like this.

So much had happened in the two years since you and Eddie began dating back in Hawkins - your world had changed so much that sometimes you felt like a completely different person. It started with some big things, like reintroducing Eddie to your parents and begging them to start fresh with him - though your father resolved to never show any warmth to your boyfriend, at least your mother was kinder.

You decide that you wouldn’t be going to college following graduation, instead wanting to take a year to work, which was yet another thing your father didn’t warm to. Somewhere amidst that decision and the subsequent string of arguments that followed, you found yourself spending more nights with Eddie and Wayne than you did with your own parents, until one day you realized you had informally moved into the Munson home. So, by the end of summer ‘86, you were out of your parents’ house and working full-time to save up for whatever may come next (and to pay rent, despite Wayne’s insistence that it was entirely unnecessary).

You weren’t sure who proposed the idea first, but you and Eddie had decided one day that you were going to move out to California. Initially, this was just some fantasy for the two of you, something to give you hope that you’d hightail it out of Hawkins one day, but over time that fantasy started to look more and more real until finally you agreed that maybe the idea wasn’t half bad at all.

So, you began to set aside more cash, began to look into neighborhoods and cities around Los Angeles, began to tell everyone that the two of you would be leaving town soon enough. No one really believed you at first - all your friends were in support of the idea, but they didn’t think it was particularly realistic. And when you mentioned it on one of the very rare occasions you saw your parents anymore, your father had the gall to laugh right in your face. That, of course, only bolstered your resolve to get the hell out of Indiana, and a lot of your freetime was slowly consumed with library visits to figure out how exactly to make this move happen.

You and Eddie finally made the leap a few months back, spending a couple weeks road tripping your way across the country, finally arriving in Los Angeles with only your most important earthly belongings and little else. Leaving Hawkins had been harder than you expected - leaving Wayne being the hardest - but you found California to be utterly refreshing, to fit you almost like a glove.

After living out of a hotel for a while, you found this cozy little apartment down in Long Beach, and you’d been content ever since; sure, it wasn’t perfect and the neighborhood wasn’t impressive, but it was your space, and that made it just right for you and Eddie. You both got jobs to hold you over for a while, you started visiting bars and venues, hell, you even found a stray cat that you quickly adopted without a second thought.

You’d been leaving the dollar theater after seeing a re-release of Labyrinth when the little calico found you - something about the film, and David Bowie, had totally mesmerized you when it came out the year prior, and Eddie was happy to take you to the special showing that night. So, when this cat approached you curiously and began weaving playfully between Eddie’s ankles, you were both immediately smitten. You named the cat Sir Didymus only to discover it was female a few weeks later, but it suited her rascally personality just fine, and thus her name stuck.

And now here you were, five months into your new California life and driving yourself crazy over where the hell Eddie was and why he was late to return home.

You called the record store and asked if maybe he was working late and forgot to mention it, but his coworker informed you that Eddie clocked out right on schedule; he mentioned that Eddie seemed eager to leave, but didn’t have any further information for you. On the one hand, it made you worry that something had happened, but on the other, you were annoyed that he had possibly made plans without telling you, as unlikely as that may be.

You’d tried to think of all the places in town that he could have gone to, but nothing seemed particularly viable - he wouldn’t have gone to a show without you, wouldn’t have gone to the store without you, wouldn’t have gone anywhere without you. Not unless he was keeping some kind of secret, but you couldn’t fathom what that might be.

Considering that today was your birthday, you had originally thought maybe he was making a special stop to get you flowers or a cake or a last minute gift; it was so like Eddie to do that, even after you insisted he didn’t need to get you anything at all. But once 7 o’clock hit, and then 7:30, and then 8pm, you began to doubt this original line of thought and assume the worst instead. 

Decidedly, a few minutes past 8, you’d thrown on one of Eddie’s sweaters and your shoes, and made the short trek down to the convenience store on the corner - the two of you were in there practically every day, so maybe one of the employees had seen him. The familiar night clerks greeted you, but when you asked about Eddie’s whereabouts, they didn’t have a clue, which made your worries grow even more. As if to put your mind at ease, they gave you a free 6-pack and said they’d call you if they saw him.

You returned back to the apartment to Sir Didymus crying for dinner, which made you realize you forgot to set out food for her earlier. Cursing to yourself, you filled her bowl and began to pace nervously, trying to consider where the hell Eddie could be. Did you forget about a show that he had previously mentioned? Or was he hit by a fucking truck? Maybe he got caught up chatting with a customer like he was one to do, or maybe he got fucking mugged. All possibilities were on the table, and you hated each and every one of them for causing you such worry and distress.

Prying open a window, you crawled onto the fire escape and lit a cigarette, hands shaky with anxiety as you pressed it to your lips. The night was relatively quiet for your neighborhood, which wasn’t saying much - there were always cars cruising up and down the road, music blasting from a nearby bar, and people constantly arguing in alleyways and backyards. But the noise was soothing in its way, reminding you that the world was constantly in motion and that Eddie was probably just caught up in it all.

Sir Didymus came to sit beside you, meowing as if she, too, was wondering where the hell Eddie was and why he wasn’t back home. You considered throwing on some clothes to go searching for him, but aside from the bar and the convenience store, there was nowhere in the area that he would be; moments like these made you wish you two hadn’t sold your car, because it would’ve been really convenient to have right about now.

Each time you heard tires screeching or saw headlights shining down the road, you craned your neck to get a better look, but it was never Eddie. You’d already nervously polished off two cigarettes and were lighting up a third; Sir Didymus had retired to sleeping on the pile of blankets that she commandeered within a few days of moving in.

As you were caught up in your anxious thoughts, you thought you’d heard metal music from somewhere nearby, muffled and far off, but it caused your ears to perk; when you realized that it was specifically a Dio song playing, you immediately shot to your feet, clambering back through the window while dropping your cigarette into the ashtray.

Without bothering to slip on shoes, you rushed out onto the breezeway connecting all the little apartments in your complex, gripping the rails as you tried to find the source of the music, which was obviously louder from this side of the building. The street in front of your complex was crowded with cars, so if the music was Eddie’s, he must have had to park way down the block; eventually, the music stopped, and you became more anxious by the second.

When finally you spotted Eddie walking up the sidewalk towards the gate, you all but rushed down the stairs to meet him halfway; Eddie smiled largely, clearly not able to make out your concern under the flickering lights illuminating the path. A glare grew in your eyes as you realized he looked just fine; in fact, it seemed he stopped by the store, if the grocery bag in his hand was anything to go on. He held up his arms to greet you, but before he could get a word out, you hissed while jabbing him in the chest.

“Where the hell have you been?” Your eyes were alight with panicked concern, and you didn’t realize until that moment that you were on the verge of relieved tears. You swallowed, determined to hold them back, “It’s almost 9 o’clock, Eddie, I was worried out of my fucking mind.”

Eddie’s face fell, arms drooping at his sides; he didn’t expect you to have gotten so worked up over him not returning on time. He thought he could surprise you, that he could do something nice for your birthday, but the utter panic in your expression told him otherwise. He dipped his head down towards yours, hoping that he could sooth all the stress that had bubbled up inside you.

“I should’ve called--”

“No shit.”

Eddie clenched his jaw a little, taking a breath - he wasn’t about to get upset with you, he wouldn’t let himself, “Let’s go upstairs, okay?”

The impulsive side of you wanted to argue with him right here and now, wanted to grill him about why he didn’t come home and what he was doing. The more patient part of you, however, held back, shaky breaths heaving in your chest as you nodded with a twisted expression. You spun around on your heels and marched up the stairs, crossing your arms with a scowl; Sir Didymus sat just outside your open door, curiously waiting for you both.

Following just a step behind you, Eddie sighed to himself as he took in your rigid posture, realizing that he should’ve thought this through - after all, since your move to Long Beach, the two of you were essentially attached at the hip, doing absolutely any and everything together. Of course you would worry when he didn’t come home, when he didn’t call or give you a heads up - but, again, he’d just been hoping to surprise you, and hadn’t considered that a few hours would get you as stressed as you were now.

Back in the apartment, you took large strides towards the open window and retrieved your cigarette from the ashtray. To calm yourself down, you began to pace, watching as Eddie closed the door behind him and waited there a moment as if to collect his thoughts; when he turned to face you, you quickly looked away and took a deep drag.

“God, Eddie, I’m trying not to be mad, okay, I was just so worried and I thought maybe there was something you were keeping from me or that maybe you were in an accident or even dead in a fucking ditch, and I know it’s ridiculous to get so worked up over only a few hours but--”

“You can be mad.” He interrupted the inevitable rambling that was about to commence.

You had always struggled to express emotions considering the household you grew up in, so these past two years with Eddie had been a learning experience for you, which led to your feelings often spilling over when they became overwhelming. You shot him a confused look, still struggling to this day with the idea that it was okay to feel something; you bit your tongue so that you wouldn’t keep babbling, trying to collect your thoughts.

“I should’ve told you where I was,” Eddie started, walking the short distance from the front door to the kitchen, gently dropping the grocery bag atop the counter, “but I wanted to surprise you.”

You laughed smally, feeling stupid for getting so worried over seemingly nothing. Shaking your head, you took a deep drag from the cigarette and turned to face the window, eyes unfocused as you looked around. You dropped your head, beginning to feel more and more stupid the more that you thought about it; you could hear Eddie coming up slowly behind you.

“Get out of your head,” He instructed gently, to which you laughed again, “You’re probably already kicking yourself, am I right? As if you did something wrong?”

You narrowed your eyes at his reflection in the window - fuck, he knew you too well. Slowly, you turned to face him again, but you kept your gaze on the floor. Eddie took another couple steps closer, waiting for you to eventually look up at him.

“I’m sorry, princess.” He said simply, and the pet name nearly caused you to smile fondly; even after all this time, it stuck, and you figured it wasn’t going anywhere. You could tell in his voice that Eddie saw you resisting to grin, “I should’ve called, I just got caught up in the surprise.”

The corner of your mouth pulled up, and you looked at Eddie carefully through your lashes; his smile was gentle and sweet, eyes far more adoring than you thought you really deserved. Swallowing your trepidation, you asked smally, “What surprise?”

Eddie’s smile grew larger as he cocked his head, “Your dual birthday-anniversary surprise.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, relief slowly relaxing your shoulders as you took a final small inhale of the cigarette before tossing it out the window, “My birthday is not our real anniversary and you know it.”

You smiled fondly at the memory of meeting each other at that picnic table behind the football field, at the crazy fake dating scheme you had that ultimately led you to where you were now. It felt like a lifetime again that senior year happened, and yet it still felt as if it was only yesterday.

“So maybe we have two anniversaries.” Eddie teased fondly, his eyes taking you in as if you were still a breath of fresh air to him. Under those soft, adoring eyes, you could feel your ears growing hot even still.

You sighed affectionately with a shake of your head, crossing your arms as a gust of wind came up through the window; being near the beach, the air was always unexpectedly cold at night. As you took in the always pleasant sight of Eddie, you realized he had a bandage just above his collarbone, which caused your brow to furrow with concern as you looked between it and his face.

“What happened?” You asked, closing the gap between you two so you could worry over whatever the hell was on his neck; you wondered if maybe he nicked himself shaving, but the bandage seemed far too large for that. Did he hurt himself at work?

As you reached for the bandage, Eddie laughed, capturing your wrists in his hands before you could touch his neck. You met his eyes with confusion, to which he simply shook his head.

“That’s the surprise.”

Your expression deadpanned, “You getting hurt is the surprise? Geez, babe, how romantic.”

Eddie laughed again, fondly rolling his eyes, “Not hurt in the way that you think.”

Clearly enjoying your confusion, Eddie released your grip and reached for the bandage, hissing a little as he tried to gently peel it off. Your jaw dropped in both surprise and confusion at the injury beneath it, not prepared for what it would be.

It was a tattoo, though that wasn’t the surprising part, considering that Eddie was slowly becoming covered in them. No, what took you aback was that the tattoo was quite clearly your lips, done in a shade almost identical to the lipstick color you’d been trying just the day before. You stared dumbly at it, as if you couldn’t quite compute it, as if you didn’t quite think it was real.

When you finally managed to draw your gaze back up to Eddie’s face, he was smiling from ear-to-ear, eyes twinkling with clear delight at your stunned expression. You opened and closed your mouth a couple of times as you tried to find your voice again, eyes rapidly looking back and forth from the tattoo to his face and back again.

“You… got a tattoo for me?” Your tone was one of disbelief; saying it out loud made the moment more real, and suddenly your throat felt tight as if you could cry.

Eddie nodded with pride, “You like it?”

You stared at the replica of your lips, recalling the evening prior when you’d been testing out make-up samples that you’d gotten from work. Eddie always enjoyed watching you apply make-up, and of course lipstick was his favorite part; when he commented on a shade that he seemed particularly fond of, you leaned over and planted a loud, silly kiss at the base of his neck.

Considering that you crawled out of bed hours before him to get to your shift at the make-up counter, you didn’t see whether or not he’d ever cleaned the lipstick off; evidently, he must have worn it like a badge of pride all day until he could finally get down to the tattoo parlor and make it permanent.

Shaking yourself from your reverie, you looked at Eddie lovingly, your eyes a little more wet; god, you’d gotten so much more emotional since he entered your life, it was nearly ridiculous. Or maybe you’d just become more vulnerable, far less skilled at holding back when it was just the two of you alone.

You cupped his cheeks gently, being extra careful not to go near the fresh tattoo, “God, I love you.”

The smile he gave you was dazzling, mesmerizing even, “I love you, princess.”

You drew his lips down to yours, resting your forehead gently to his; Eddie hummed contently, whispering a tender “happy birthday” against your lips before kissing you fiercely.

.

.

addt. a/n: I'll try to keep this short and sweet. Thank you to everyone who has read this fic and watched it grow, to those that have been commenting and messaging with each update, and to all the incredibly fic writers I've met through this story! And, of course, a HUGE THANK YOU to my dear @eddiernunson for being so invested - you've helped me developed so many ideas, and it's truly warmed my heart to see someone else love the ice princess as much as I do <3 If anyone would like to be tagged in any future outings these two may have in store, please let me know!

@3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @adelalaaa @adversary713 @avalon-wolf

@costellation-hunter @daisy-munson @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie

@dreamerjj @eddiernunson @feralgoblinbabe @frogtape @fromasgardandback

@fckyeahlames @graciehams @kellsck @kthomps914 @littlexdeaths

@lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00 @maskofmirrors @mewchiili

@miaajaade @miss-celestial-being @mmmunson @moonisu @munsonssweets

@no-bueno-writer @nxrdamp @ollieolive @rach5ive @sapphire4082

@sav12321 @seatbacksandtraytables @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

@teethvenom @tvserie-s-world @twihard28 @urlivingdeadgirl @v1per1ne

@wefracturedmotivation @welcometohellsock @whats-my-question @xxsxdghxstxx

[violenteconomics]

remember this post i made about ace and epel (and eventually the other freshmen) pranking their upperclassmen?

yeah, so, here’s an idea for a significantly less funny prequel:

the first-years actually met their housewardens as kids, where they got very attached to one another, but absolutely none of them remember this. 

i’ve got a drabble written for riddle, ace, and deuce, but for the others, i’m completely lost, lol.

^

(warning: mentions of child abuse)

^

4-year-old ace trappola, a pint-sized brat who loses a ball in dr rosehearts’s backyard. since dr rosehearts has an extremely sour reputation around town for being impossible to be polite with, ace decides it’s not worth the patience it’ll take to knock on her door. so instead, he climbs her fence to retrieve it.

that’s when he notices the boy sitting by the windowsill, with a thousand books stacked all around him, looking very intrigued at the book in his hands. ace has never seen someone so engrossed with a book that doesn’t even have a picture on the cover, and having absolutely no filter, even at that age, he simply walks up to him and asks what he’s doing.

at first, riddle tries to shoo him away, knowing how his mother will react when she finds out there’s a random kid stepping on her perfectly-cut grass. eventually, though, ace’s childish stubbornness wins out, and riddle tells him about the history book he’s reading.

[ace is alice and riddle is alice’s sister in this scenario in case you don’t get the reference, they make me insane, okay—]

everyday, ace comes back to the windowsill at the same time (at riddle’s request, because he only has so much independent study time) just to listen to him. everyday, he says that it’s stupid, boring, and he can’t believe riddle actually reads book without pictures. everyday, he comes back to sit under riddle’s windowsill and listen to him go on about food chemistry.

but then dr rosehearts finds out.

ace doesn’t really know what happens after she showed up to their doorstep, looking down on him like he was a bug underneath her heeled feet, but next thing he knows, his dad’s telling him and brother that they’re moving to a different town. he tells ace that their house just isn’t pretty enough, but ace is young— not stupid.

(in the future, whenever ace scores high on a test, and riddle will smile and tell him he’s proud of him. every single time, it leaves a bad taste in his mouth for reasons ace can’t explain.)

^

5-year-old deuce spade only knows ace as “the kid who moved out”, but through some wicked twist of fate, he’s the next person to lose something in dr roseheart’s backyard.

deuce’s mom actually used to work for dr rosehearts as her secretary, but deuce doesn’t really like her, because she used to make his mom work long hours with little pay in return. his mom lived in dr rosehearts’s medical practice more than she actually lived in the crappy apartment they could barely afford. he was so glad when she quit.

but unfortunately, dr rosehearts’s house is right next to the park, and losing balls in her garden is unfortunately very common for most kids in the neighborhood. and since deuce really doesn’t want to talk to her, he jumps over her fence instead.

this time, riddle’s the one who notices him.

riddle’s missing ace a lot (he never found out why he stopped coming around), so to fill the hole in his heart, he invited deuce over. sheepishly, deuce walks over and lets riddle tell him about the book on agricultural trade he’s been reading. deuce doesn’t quite get it as fast as ace did, but unlike ace, he’s patient and hard-working and oh-so earnest in his attempts to understand.

of course, dr rosehearts isn’t going to help this relationship in the slightest. a few weeks later, she waits for deuce right outside the fence, before dragging him off once he’s out of riddle’s view. she mocks his attempts at trying to learn something that’s clearly above his mental capacity, for trying to be someone above his station, for knowing the rules and being too stupid to stick to them.

(“What sort of pitiful education have you received, that you cannot follow such simple rules?”)

when she delivers deuce back to his house, his mother says nothing. when she tells him they’re moving to a bigger house on the complete other side of the queendom, deuce doesn’t argue.

(deuce couldn’t tell you why doing so bad in school frustrated him to the point of becoming a delinquent. he really couldn't.)

[shalotttower]

Will-o'-the-wisp

Title: Will-o'-the-wisp

Fandom: Hunter x Hunter

Characters: Chrollo Lucilfer x Reader (female)

Summary: Reader encouters fae!Chrollo and breaks some rules along the way.

Word count: 1700+

Notes: yandere!Chrollo, fae!Chrollo, abduction, manipulation, AU, modern setting with fae, Chrollo is charming af and a bit creepy as usual, Reader is doomed long before they know it and slightly depressed

You walk home the same way every day, like many people do. There's comfort in routines. Comfort and security which you crave. The familiar routes, the repetitive programs on TV and the books you've read a million times. You like to know what happens next and hate surprises.

The fourteen-year-old you wouldn't approve.

Maybe even express a little pity, because she always thought you two were destined for an adventure, like in fantasy books you used to devour one after another. Every free second was spent reading or dreaming, but life went on and adventures didn't happen. The girl grew older, a lot more careful and a lot less hopeful.

When you finish work, it's usually around six. Your adult self is practical and prefers to save money on the bus, besides, every other time you take it, you end up having to stand, squeezed between people. It's not worth the frustration; a fifteen minute walk isn't that long and the crime rate in the area is low.

There's a small grove nearby that nobody has bothered to turn into a park. The residents made their own paths in time, put a few signs so the joggers wouldn't get lost, but that's it. Once or twice a month you stroll through there, picking up trash left on the side. People make you want to move to the woods altogether sometimes.

That's how the day starts or ends — with crossing a bridge which connects the grove to your neighbourhood.

And this is where you see him for the first time.

The man looks so out of place among the rustic wooden railings and rushing water below. Nobody wears this kind of clothes here. Expensive and elegant, something that blends well in a big city. They don't stare at passersby like he does either. You hate when people do that ─ block already narrow spaces by just stopping midway. Or groups who spread across the entire sidewalk.

"Excuse me," you say politely. Polite is good. Polite can be used as a shield and always makes you look better than you are. "I need to pass."

He smiles, then moves aside. "Of course."

His face is exactly what you imagine when thinking of pleasant: beautiful grey eyes with long lashes, pointed chin and a strange mix of delicate and sharp edges.

"Thank you."

The smile widens. "You're welcome."

---

It's time to accept that you've grown into an average person with a simple desire to live in comfort. Dreaming isn't your strength anymore, the last book you picked up was several years ago. Movies bore you fifteen minutes in, even if everybody else praises them; the idea of a relationship seems exhausting.

You do enjoy gardening.

Growing tomatoes is a far cry from distant fictional lands, but they taste nice with a pinch of salt.

The condo you live in doesn't have enough space and light, so you chose a small patch of ground in the grove to start a garden. A few tomato plants and some herbs like chives and basil. It might be illegal, yet nobody has come to yell at you. Most people don't pay attention to what's happening here, as long as you don't damage the trees or leave trash.

You water and prune, weed, add fertilizer if needed. There're some flowers too; mother told you that marigolds scare pests away from veggies and keep the soil healthy. They're pretty, little orange spots.

---

You find a crystal at you patch. Azure would be too bland to describe its color ─ maybe more like a mix of cerulean and moon stone. It's round in shape, polished so nicely that the outlines of your face are reflected in the surface. Did a magpie bring it? Or a kid? The thought of someone poking around your garden makes you frown. You hope they didn't step on your basil.

The stone is heavy and cool. You turn it around, entranced, before stuffing it into the pocket of your jeans. Maybe you can ask the neighbours' kids about it later.

"Would you look at that," you mutter and bend to inspect a tomato plant. Two green fruit, each no bigger than your knuckle, hang there, sprouted over the weekend. "Hello, my pretties."

---

You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. It's past 1 AM, you should sleep; instead, you keep twisting the stone in the moonlight.

You asked kids from around here, but nobody claimed it.

Maybe it's a lucky charm, you've had a wonderful day. Got a call from your cousin in the morning, she has't contacted you in a long while and it was nice to catch up. After lunch, the resource manager praised your work, then an elderly lady from the store complimented your cardigan.

At a certain angle, the stone seems almost glowing. A summer night sky condensed into a tiny orb. Your fingers trace its smooth surface without much thought until eventually it drops onto the pillow by your side.

You don't notice when exactly you fall asleep.

It's the strangest dream you've ever seen.

Gone is the condo building with its stuffy kitchenette and old pipes that constantly rumble. Instead, you feel damp grass underneath your feet. Wind brushes through the hem of your nightdress, carrying the scents of rain and moss. So many shades of black and raven blue swirl together that you barely recognize a signpost nearby. It's the grove, but you've never seen it like this, as dark as it can be only at night.

It's uncomfortable to stand barefoot, with a chill creeping up your legs.

After a while your fingers touch the rough bark of a nearby tree to get a sense of direction, and you start walking, because there isn't anything else to do.

There's the bridge, you think. If you just get to the bridge, the rest will be simple.

You're walking there, or that's what you think when a small ball of light appears right before your nose.

Fireflies don't glow blue. It doesn't falter, doesn't flicker, coming up closer then farther like a pendulum. There's something uncanny and fragile about it. For a second you forget everything and stand mesmerized, until it starts moving.

Through the trees, past the branches, onwards.

It's more instinctual than anything ─ you don't want to be left here alone again, so you follow. Light is good, darkness isn't. The ground becomes more uneven as you go, the grass changes to moss, but you can barely register anything at this point apart from that lonely glow. It halts at times as if making sure you're keeping up.

Is that a clearing ahead? Your eyes hurt from trying to focus.

The blue dot continues to float, never speeding up, never falling behind.

Then it disappears.

No. Not disappears ─ settles on the tip of a pale finger.

There's your tomato patch, your plants, the empty box that you forgot to take back to the condo.

But it's impossible.

Your garden should be not very far from the border, yet it feels like you've walked through half of the grove by now.

Why is he here?

"It took you a while," he says, the stranger from the bridge whose eyes made you pause before you caught yourself. "I was waiting, my dear."

Maybe you shouldn't ask. Maybe the wisest thing would be to turn around and run. You step back and trip on a root which somehow snuck between the moss. He catches your hand before you fall and doesn't let go. Instead his thumb caresses your skin in leisurely strokes.

There's a faint scent of lilies coming from him, and something else. Something heavy, equally sweet that lingers on the edge of cloying and enticing.

Smells aren't supposed to be so strong in dreams.

"I need to go."

"Where?"

This simple question asked in an equally plain tone makes you falter. What does he mean 'where'?

"Home," you say softly and try to free your hand again without success. The man leans in close enough that you can see his face, illuminated by that blue light.

"And where is home?"

"I-" you swallow. "I have to go."

He releases you with surprising ease; you don't waste any time rushing towards the path. The long walk has exhausted you, and the lack of light makes it difficult to tell which turns to take. You stumble multiple times. The hem of your nightdress catches a few twigs. You sprint past the trees, past the low bushes along the familiar trail, and it's there, suddenly in front of you: the wooden bridge.

Out of breath, you grab the railing. And then open your eyes on the same side where you started.

How?

Again and again, you dash across it, yet every time there's a single step left to cross over the stream, the view shifts. Your feet land at the beginning of the bridge. On the ninth time when it's impossible to run any longer, you press your forehead to the railing. Every breath feels short and raspy.

"That's enough, dear."

"What is this?" You grip the planks with trembling hands. "I don't understand. Why can't I-"

A coat falls over your shoulders; you clutch at it mindlessly, because it's warm and you're shaking all over.

"You thanked me. Claimed my land, charmingly audacious of you. Such care and love, right under my nose."

There's no malice in his voice. Gently, finger by finger, he uncurls the tight grip of your hand. The stone is there, cerulean blue like summer sky condensed into a tiny orb.

"Took my gift and kept it close to your heart."

It takes some effort but eventually you manage to speak. "I didn't," you whisper urgently, despite the shiny proof in your palm. "I didn't know! Take it back."

"I'm afraid it's too late for that."

"I didn't know!"

He lifts you in his arms when your knees give out and you sink to the ground, still gripping that damned stone. His coat carries the same distinct scent of lilies and heavy sweetness. The sceneries you dreamed of when younger pop in your head, like old postcards covered with dust, of mystical beings hidden from human eye, fantastical places no one has seen, grand adventures where heroes defy impossible odds and come out victorious.

Those were tales for the brave and imaginative. You're neither.

"It doesn't matter. The land claims you," he says. "And so do I."

[nakylvr]

Hello, could you do a one shot of Sophia from Katseye with a female reader? They are in the same group and like each other, but they never admit it, until one day when something happens in which Sophia gets jealous of the reader with some boy, and then declares herself afraid of losing her.

this was so fun to write, thank you so much for requesting! 🫶

— I LIKE YOU (I DO)

sophia laforteza (katseye) x fem!reader

summary: dealing with a crush in the same group is hard. dealing with the jealousy that comes with it is also hard. which is why sophia confesses out of fear.

warnings/tags: language, fluff, jealous!sophia, mutual pining, 7th member!reader, confessions

wc: 3,0k

main masterlist | katseye masterlist

Debuting was a dream come true. After dealing with two years of training and a survival show, you felt as if everything had worked out just the way it was intended to. You were close with all the girls that had debuted with you into the group and believed there was nothing that could go wrong from there. That was, except for the crush you had. 

You thought it was silly in the beginning, that it wouldn’t become anything too serious. You were with the other trainees since the beginning of the program, and grew extremely close to all of them. However, you realized within a few months that your “silly crush” was no longer silly anymore. It’s not like it was your fault! How could anyone not develop a crush on Sophia Laforteza? Still, you thought you were partially insane for it. 

The only thing you didn’t notice was Sophia’s feelings towards you were the same. 

Sophia felt like she had been shot in the chest when she was bluntly told by Daniela that it was obvious she had feelings for you. The “duh, it’s obvious” made her start panicking at the thought of being obvious about liking someone while being oblivious about it herself.  There was no way, in her mind at least. But, when she was told it she did realize it made sense, even if she didn’t notice the things she did herself. 

While Sophia was one of the older sister-like figure for most of the girls, it was noticeable that she would spend more of her time with you. If you were having a rough time during practice she would be there reassuring you and helping you with each step, when you weren’t practicing she was essentially always by your side, even if it was just sitting on the couch, Sophia made sure every time that she was the one sitting next to you, and if any of the other girls did she would throw a fit until one of them moved. She cooked for all the girls, but if you two were up in the middle of the night in the dorm she would make you food that was from your culture depending on what was in the dorm at the time. You two weren’t roommates, but the girls have multiple pictures of her making her way into your room to lay down with you and fall asleep that neither of you know about nor have seen. 

And yet, neither of you said anything. Both of you were too scared to do anything. It made sense. There was the initial fear of liking another person, then the fear of dealing with being in the same group as said person, and the many different outcomes that could come from it. Additionally, neither of you would ever believe the other reciprocated those feelings. 

You learned fairly quickly after debuting that Sophia could become jealous of when others would be around you, but you thought it was merely platonic and the sisterly love she had for all the girls in the group. You wouldn’t call yourself oblivious, but apparently, you were if you couldn’t figure this out. But, then again. There were a few times that made you start wondering about certain things. 

The first instance was when you were in Korea for the survival show, and she wakes you up in the middle of the night to go to a convenience store. 

“Psst, Yn, are you awake?” 

The answer was yes. You had been awake for the past two hours trying to get to sleep, so when you heard Sophia’s hushed voice ask you that question in the dark, you immediately responded. “Yeah.” You open your eyes to see Sophia crouching in front of your bed, the hood of her hoodie over her head and a small smile on her face as she hears you reply. 

“Do you want to go to a convenience store with me?” Sophia asks you. 

You can tell by the look on her face that she wants you to say yes, her eyes wide and filled with anticipation of your answer, the small smile on her face, and it’s what wins you over in the end despite your tiredness and dreading schedules for the next few days. “Yeah, sure,” You answer with a nod. “What time is it?” You ask, sitting up and rubbing your eyes with your hands. 

“It is…” Sophia’s voice trails off as she pulls her phone out of her pocket and looks at the time. “1:42!” She answers, showing you the phone. 

“Why are you even awake at this hour?” You ask her while yawning, grabbing your phone off the charger and swinging your legs over the bed, scooting yourself closer to the edge. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Sophia shrugs, standing up. “Plus, I’m really hungry and want ramen.” She finishes with a smile. 

You let out a quiet chuckle and nod your head. “Yeah, that makes sense,” You say, getting up off your bed. “Give me a minute to get ready, I look like a mess right now,” You add, running a hand through your hair to try and fix what you know is a mess. 

“You look perfect,” Sophia responds the second after you speak without a hint of hesitation. It's too dark for you to see the blush make its way onto her face when she realizes those words actually came out instead of just staying in her head, but you're also grateful for the darkness as it hid your own flushed face. “I-I’ll be in the living room. Just come out when you're ready,” She says after a moment of silence, trying not to sound panicked but her stammering is noticeable. Within another second, Sophia hurries out of the room quietly, shutting the door behind her and going to sit down on the couch. 

You have no time to respond before Sophia is out of the room leaving you back in the darkness. You can’t lie to yourself and say that hearing those words from her made you feel warm inside because it did. Even if it wasn’t meant to be taken that way, it was still nice to have it be said while looking like a zombie half-awake at one in the morning. All you do to get changed is fix your hair, put a beanie on to cover the top, and put on a pair of slip-on shoes before leaving the room quietly. When you enter the living room, Sophia is sitting on the couch with her phone in her hands, looking at it so intently that she doesn’t even notice you walking up to her until you are standing right in front of her and speaking. 

“Wow, for someone who woke me up at one in the morning, you sure aren’t paying attention to me, huh?” 

Sophia’s head shoots up from her phone and a smile immediately makes its way onto her face. “Sorry, I was looking at something,” She replies. 

“Something important enough for me to go back to sleep?” You say with a short chuckle. 

“Nope!” Sophia shakes her head and quickly stands up. “Come on, let’s go!” She grabs your hand and starts walking to the front door. 

You let her drag your tired body to the front door and leave the house. You had your hood over your head like Sophia as you two started walking down the streets of Seoul to find a convenience store. You don’t even realize her hand is still holding onto yours until you glance down to look at the time on your watch, and a blush forms on your face, but you don’t do anything as you let your other hand fall back down to your side. 

After around ten minutes of talking whilst walking the streets, Sophia eventually spotted a convenience store and dragged you inside along with her. You felt an odd sense of relief when she let go of your hand finally, but you also wished she held onto it longer. But, again, you didn’t say anything as you two walked inside the small store. 

You absentmindedly follow Sophia as she roams the store looking through each of the small aisles of snacks. You stop in a random aisle and let Sophia walk off in another direction, grabbing a chocolate bar before continuing on your way to where Sophia was. You turn the corner to see her ripping open a package of ramen and you silently walk up behind her, peering over her shoulder. 

“Which one did you choose?” 

“Jesus Christ!” Sophia jumps, turning to look at you. “You scared the shit out of me!” 

“Sorry,” You smile innocently at her. 

Seeing your smile has all the (petty) anger fading from Sophia’s body the second she sees it. She couldn’t lie, she did love your smile. It’s just she wished they were directed towards her more, even if there was already more to her than the other girls. She doesn’t even notice she’s staring until you point at the package in her hands. 

“You know that’s like, super spicy, right?” You ask her. 

“Huh?” She lets out, not hearing what you said due to being stuck in her thoughts and staring. “Oh! I think I’ll be fine,” She shakes her head, turning back to the machine that dispensed the hot water. 

“That’s what you say now,” You say, grabbing a package of ramen and one of the plastic bowls. You rip open the package with your teeth and pour the contents into the bowl, not noticing Sophia’s gaze on you out of the corner of her eye while you move. 

The two of you watch the water pour into both of the bowls and you yawn, covering your mouth with your hand and rubbing your eyes with your other hand. 

“You should get an energy drink,” Sophia says. 

“I’ll be alright,” You reply. “Plus, I’m used to Redbulls.” 

“Redbulls,” Sophia shakes her head mumbling to herself. “Those things are so bad.” 

“I just like the strawberry apricot flavor,” You shrug your shoulders, grabbing the bowl from the dispenser and covering it with its top. “All the other flavors are shitty.” 

“They’re all shitty, Yn,” Sophia retorts, grabbing her bowl and sitting down at the little 2-person table. 

“Not the strawberry apricot,” You respond, sitting down in front of her. 

“Sure, sure,” She replies sarcastically while nodding her head. 

There’s a moment of silence that fills the space between you two and the small table, and you’re not sure what to say. You’re so awkward with Sophia outside of practice and the dorms that going out in the middle of the night with her feels weird now that it’s just the two of you alone. It’s not an awkward silence, it’s calming given the chaos you were thrown into daily with the program. But, you don’t know what to say. Maybe there isn’t anything to be said in the first place, you’re not completely sure. All you know is that this isn’t so bad, spending time alone with her without the other girls nearby. Looking at it now, you two look like a couple going to a place this late into the night just for some ramen. The thought made your face flush, and you look down at the table trying to not show it. 

“Are you okay?” Sophia questions once you randomly look down. 

“Yeah,” You nod your head, looking back up and at her. “I was just thinking,” You reply. 

Your words have Sophia raising one of her eyebrows, looking at you with an expression you hadn’t seen on her before. “About what?” She asks another question. 

The new look she’s giving you has you not knowing what to say. You could lie and say you were thinking about something totally different or, you could tell the truth and lowkey admit your crush on her. You can tell she’s anticipating your answer, and you stumble out words before you can even think over them and determine if you should say them. “I was just thinking about how we kinda look like a couple going out alone like this.” 

Sophia’s eyes widen for a split second before they return to normal, which you fail to notice, and she isn’t sure how to respond. She’s always known what to say and how to respond to things, but for some reason, she’s struggling right now. But, she tries her best to not show it. “Yeah, we kinda do, don’t we?” She replies, tilting her head slightly and smiling. “You don’t feel weird about that?” 

Her response along with her smile has the prominent blush on your face growing bigger, and you shake your head at her question. “No,” You answer. “Do-” You clear your throat out of nervousness. “Do you?” 

“No,” Sophia immediately answers, shaking her head with the smile not leaving her face. 

You weren't really sure what that meant in the moment, but when you two returned to the house you found yourself unable to sleep due to the thoughts running through your mind of what it could possibly mean. But, you didn't voice these thoughts out loud ever. Except to Megan, who insisted that it was obvious, Sophia liked you as well. 

Once the realization dawned on you that surely, Sophia liked you back, you felt a whole assortment of feelings that you didn't know what to do about. You didn't want to confess, because of the possibility that you were wrong, accidentally mistaking the kindness for liking you. But, you were having a hard time keeping it inside at the same time. 

You ended up keeping it inside the whole time. Throughout the program, throughout debuting, you didn't say a word. You couldn't. You didn't want to ruin everything that was built just because you ended up developing a silly crush on her. You weren't stupid enough to do that. 

In the end, it was Sophia who confessed first. 

It was an off day after months of schedules after officially debuting, and you and Sophia were doing a Target run to get groceries for the dorm. She had left you with the cart while she went further down the aisle to get something, leaving you standing there tapping your hand on the cart to a random song. 

You heard your name from behind you, and you turned your head to see one of your old friends walking up to you. A smile instantly grows on your face seeing him walk up to you. 

“Jax! I haven't seen you in forever!” You say smiling, hugging him as he walks up to you. 

“How are you doing?” He asks you once he pulls out of the hug. “You’re like, famous now,” He laughs lightly.

“I’m good!” You answer, giggling softly at his second sentence. “I’m not famous yet, Jax. I just debuted.” You shake your head. “But uh, it's something.”

“Mm?” He hums, tilting his head to the side. “What do you mean?” He questions.

“Nothing,” You shake your head again. “Don't worry about-” You stop your words when you hear footsteps approaching from behind and stopping next to you. 

“Sorry, no pictures,” Sophia says while putting the items in the cart, putting her hand up.

“Oh, I’m not a-”

“Sorry, we have to get going now,” She cuts him off before he can finish. “Come on,” She grabs your hand and starts walking away.

“Sophia, what the hell?” You instantly say when she stops halfway across the store. “He was my friend.” You pry your hand out of her grip. 

“I don't like him,” She responds, shaking her head. 

“What?” You question. “Okay, so? I haven't seen him for months! And you just dragged me off! You can't just do that!”

Sophia shakes her head again, not knowing what to do. She acted without thinking, she rarely does that. Now she got herself stuck in a situation not knowing how to handle it. You're clearly irritated judging by the look on your face, and she's contemplating just outright saying the reason she did it, the reason she did everything when it came to you. “I-” She starts, but you're quick to cut her off.

“You're what?” You cross your arms over your chest. “You’ve been acting weird ever since the debut, hell, since the lineup was announced! Part of me is starting to think you secretly hate me or something!”

“What?” Sophia lets out, looking at you like you just said something insane. “No, no, no, no, I don't hate you!” She says quickly, panicking truly for once in her life. “Yn, you have to understand I can't-”

“Understand what, Sophia? That-”

“I have feelings for you!” Sophia raises her voice to speak over you, her face immediately turning red when she realizes what she said. “I mean, I, uhm,” She stammers out as the look on your face changes and you take a step towards her.

“Are you serious?” You question seriously. “Please don't be lying to me right now.”

“I’m serious,” She answers quietly. “I know it's not-” She stops abruptly when you cup her face in your hands, staring at you with wide eyes. 

There's a moment of silence that lingers in the air as you two stare at each other, before you hesitantly start leaning closer to her. You stop, hesitating again with your lips merely inches away from hers, trying to see in her eyes if she really wanted this. Before you can do anything else, Sophia closes the gap and kisses you. It's quick as she pulls away, smiling at you with you smiling back.

“You don't have a clue how much I’ve wanted that to happen,” You admit shamelessly. 

“Mm, I had a feeling,” She says jokingly. 

“Oh really?” You reply in the same tone, tilting your head to the side.

“Yeah, Dani claimed it was ‘obvious’ to everyone else,” She nods.

“I’m so going to kill her when we get back,” You grumble out.

“Oh be quiet, it's cause of her this happened anyways,” Sophia pats your head gently. “You can kill her later.”

“Fine.”