#I mean tbh it usually comes in waves for me

[rosicheeks]

did you get my last ask? idk if it went through or not _ 🎤

💖

[star-girl69]

Better Than Revenge

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: more jealous clarisse and this time she gets to be insane about it (I Can See You coded tbh)

a/n: soft clarisse MOVE OVER insane clarisse hiiiiiii ….anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

Better Then Revenge - Taylor Swift

warnings: possessive clarisse pleek i want you i need you, violence, swearing, punching lol, men, allusions to sex and this is just pretty suggestive, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The anniversary of Mr. D being sentenced to a life at Camp Half Blood has become his birthday over the years.

Of course, his children use that as an excuse to throw a rowdy party disguised as a simple bonfire.

Chiron turns a blind eye, as long as everyone swears to not give him any alcohol, and there’s still a modicum of responsibility among the camp population.

It’s one of the highlights of the summer, the heat from the fire, the dark night lit only by Selene, where it feels like you can do anything and get away with it.

It’s your first with Clarisse, and by the way she’s looking at you right now, you’re probably not gonna last more than an hour before you get dragged somewhere to make out. Which is not what you want.

You’re already in your outfit, the jean shorts you know she likes, the low-cut top you know she likes, leaning over in front of the mirror as you do your lipstick.

“Do you have something you want to say?”

Clarisse usually sits with you as you get ready for something, since you shamelessly take longer than her. She always calls you her prettiest girl, then expects you not to live up to it?

She doesn’t rush you. She’s never impatient. She just likes watching you, and it’s fun to put on a show.

She always looks at you, but something about the look in her eyes tonight is especially… feral.

“What’d you mean?” she says, smirking and leaning back on her elbows.

The Aphrodite cabin is a particular swirl of activity, but your little corner is just you and her. She refused to wear anything but her camp t-shirt and a pair of jeans, of course, but she looks good in anything.

“You’re looking at me like you want to pounce.”

“Took you this long to pick up on that?”

You laugh, bending over to grab a jewelry box that lives at the foot of your floor length mirror.

“Baby, let’s just stay back,” she groans.

“This is our first time going together, though. I want to go.”

“And I want to kiss you until we both pass out.”

“Oh, how romantic,” you whisper, holding earrings up to your ear. The dangly pearls look best. Some sort of dangerous thought slithers into your mind, and you turn around to face her with a slow smile.

“Oh, Gods. What?”

“If you can go an entire hour without kissing me…”

She looks up at you like you’ve just called her the worst warrior at camp.

“Then we’ll leave as soon as the hours up, and do whatever you want. But if you can’t, then we get to stay until I say so.”

She smirks. The only thing she loves more than you is competition, a challenge. You watch her eyes light up.

“I can do an hour.”

“Oh, really?”

“I have amazing self-control, actually.”

“Oh, really?” you repeat, drawing out the word.

“Really,” she says, rolling her eyes and mocking you.

She’s sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning back on her palms now, watching you as you step forward.

“Really,” she says again.

But her smile fades as you place your hands on her shoulders, her hands coming to your waist as you place yourself right down on her lap. She lies down and let’s you straddle her, tracing her lips with your pointer finger.

It’s so startlingly silent and tense, she can hear your breath, you can hear hers.

You squeeze her face in your hands. “Well, time to go!” you announce, climbing off of her.

“You’re a demon,” she hisses. “A witch.”

“I’m a daughter of Aphrodite,” you roll your eyes. “I prefer to be called a seductress.”

—-

The party is already buzzing when you get there, night just falling and the fire blazing high.

You wave to a few of your friends, dragging Clarisse by the hand as you lead her to the best group of chairs and benches, not too close and not too far from the fire. All of the camp counselors and the people around your age are there, drinking punch and talking amongst themselves.

You greet your half sister and head counselor of the Aphrodite cabin, Phoebe, with a kiss and a hug.

“You look so pretty, Y/N,” she smiles. “I love the pearls.”

“Thank you,” you gush. You look up to Phoebe more than you would like to admit. One day you hope to take her position, and it wouldn’t hurt to make a good impression now. “You look gorgeous.”

Clarisse’s hand falls from yours and she pushes you forward to the empty seat next to Phoebe.

You look behind you. She gives you a look that says “Are you dumb? Talk to her.”

You’re always so close to Clarisse, but she goes and sits nexts to a few of her siblings on top of a picnic table 5 feet away.

You hum and start talking to Phoebe about a few of the new arrivals about camp- you both agree one of the new boys is a son of Aphrodite, before Phoebe looks past you and cringes.

“One of the other new kids is staring at you.”

You risk a small glance.

There’s nothing special about him. Pale skin, brown hair and brown eyes. He’s not your type, to say the least, especially when you steal a look at Clarisse and find she’s already looking at you-

You stomach flips.

She taps her wrist as if there was a watch there.

“Almost halfway,” she mouths, smiling brightly.

You look pointedly back at Phoebe.

“He’s eh,” you shrug.

“If he doesn’t stop staring at us I’m gonna go insane.”

“Is he really staring?” you ask.

“Yeah. I think he thinks he’s flirting, or something? I don’t know.”

You shrug. He probably knows you’re dating Clarisse, and if he doesn’t, he probably will soon.

She bumps your shoulder.

“Any updates with Clarisse?”

You smile, playing with your fingers.

“No, not really. We’re still happy. Actually, we’re having a contest right now. If she can resist kiss me for an hour, then we’ll leave. But if she can’t, then we get to stay at the party all night.”

“Ooh, that’s evil,” she teases.

“I know, I’m having so much fun.”

You both laugh, and Phoebe opens her mouth just to close it. She fakes dropping something to lean closer to you.

“He’s coming over here.”

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.

“Hey, ladies,” he says. His voice is deep and scratchy, like he just smoked an entire pack of cigarettes. “How y’all doin’ tonight? Enjoying the party?”

You have to stifle a laugh. Phoebe was one of the cabin leaders who helped organize the party.

“Havin’ fun,” you smile awkwardly. He stares so intensely into your eyes you have to breathe out not to laugh.

“Good, good. Either of you know where the punch station is?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, it’s right by the Apollo cabin,” Phoebe points.

He follows her finger. “Great, thanks.”

He looks at you and winks. “See you around.”

Both you and Phoebe dissolve into a fit of giggles.

—-

You make your way over to Clarisse after a second, sitting down next to her on the table. You hug your knees to your chest from where they sit on the actual bench.

“‘M cold,” you moan, rubbing your knees.

Her siblings, Carrie and Nelson are now distracted by Phoebe’s animated talking, leaving the two of you.

She wraps her arm around your shoulder, letting you lean against her.

“You wore those shorts,” she says.

“For you.”

“Oh, you’re so mean.”

“Before the challenge. And I think you mean ‘thanks for trying to make me happy, Y/N.’”

Clarisse laughs.

“Okay, pretty thing,” she mutters. “That’s what I meant.”

“Right,” you mutter, pushing yourself further against her. It’s better here, closer to the fire, but there’s still this chill in your bones.

“Stop being so close to me,” Clar mutters.

You turn to her.

“What did you just say to me?”

“It’s almost irresistible to kiss you,” she whispers. “I’m not allowed to kiss your forehead, am I?”

You put your face into her warm neck.

“Is that kissing me?” you whisper, your lips brushing her skin.

“Shut up,” she mumbles, pushing you away from her. “You’re not distracting me. I’m not losing this. One hour, then we’re going back to my cabin and staying there for a long time.”

You smile, lifting your face up from her neck to stare in her eyes. She smiles softly back at you.

“Did you see me turn around and bend over to fix my shoes?”

Her eyes blaze.

“Should have guessed that was on purpose. What’d you call yourself? A seductress? I agree.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around yourself, deciding you’ll be nice and give her a few minutes reprieve. Ares kids are always so warm, and even just being pressed slightly against her is nice.

Someone places a jacket over your shoulders. You smile, turning to Clarisse, not remembering if she had a jacket on. Did she bring one for you?

“Clar, I-”

She’s not looking at you at all. She’s staring off towards the fire, holding your hand, and you know she didn’t just give you this jacket.

Harry walks around the table, smiling.

“Looks better on you then it did me,” he says, awkwardly. “You looked cold, so…” he laughs.

Clarisse finally realizes that he’s talking to the two of you, or well, you.

“Huh?” she says, giving him a bored look. Immediately slipping back into her mean girl persona, even though she was just blushing with your face in her neck five seconds ago.

She looks at you at the corner of her eye.

You’re sitting there, frozen with his jacket over your shoulders.

“Uh…” you say, stupidly, because your mind is literally empty. What are you even supposed to do in this situation?

Clarisse grabs at the black jacket.

“She looked cold,” he says.

She finally realizes what happened.

“So, you’re hitting on my girlfriend? Right next to me?”

His smile falls. “Y-your friend, yeah-”

She rips the jacket off of you and throws it at him.

“Girlfriend,” she hisses.

“It’s not my fault,” he says, scrambling to catch his jacket, getting defensive now. He knows he fucked up, his pride is hurt. “You weren’t even touching, and she was, like, shivering-”

She stands up, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

“Hey, hey, Clarisse,” her sister Carrie says. “What’s going on?”

Clarisse glares at him. He starts sputtering incoherently.

Carrie raises an eyebrow towards you.

“He gave me his jacket,” you mumble, still feeling a little dazed. “Clar, c’mon, let him go.”

Carrie takes a step back. “Oh, ‘kay. I don’t care if she beats him up then,” she laughs.

“It looked like they were friends!” Harry shouts, pushing Clarisse back.

She punches him in the face.

“Clarisse!” you yell, jumping down from the table. “Don’t you dare!” you grab her arm, she’s fuming, rearing to punch him again.

A crowd has formed around you.

Harry groans and holds his bleeding nose.

“You fucking bitch,” he mutters.

“Clarisse. Clarisse, please, let’s go. Let’s just go.”

“You weren’t even that hot anyway,” he hisses.

“Don’t fucking talk about her!” she yells, jumping forward to punch him again-

“Clarisse!” you shout, not wanting her to get in trouble but you’re a second too late. Her fist flies into his cheek, but he’s prepared this time, so he takes it and counters with his own punch.

Your heart squeezes, but she blocks it, and both of their respective siblings finally jump in to hold them back.

“Oh, Gods,” you mumble, staring at his blood on the ground. At least it’s not hers. “Carrie!” you shout, giving her a pleasing look, and she nods.

“C’mon, Clarisse,” she says. “You’re very strong and tough, stop beating up the twig whose got no chance.”

It takes three of her siblings to corner her against the picnic bench.

“Giving her your fucking jacket, I should kill you!” she shouts, thrashing against her siblings hold. “She’s mine, dumbass, we’re always around each other, did you not notice?!”

“Clarisse- stop!” Carrie grunts, putting everything she has into holding her back.

“Go fuck yourself,” he groans, finally having enough common sense to cup his nose and walk away, the groups of people parting for him.

You stand there, shocked. Phoebe comes next to you.

“Oh, I love this night,” she sighs. You shoot her an unimpressed look.

After he’s gone, her siblings let a fighting Clarisse out of their holds, and she scans the crowd, but Harry really has disappeared. Her eyes find yours immediately.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, marching towards you and immediately pressing her lips against yours.

Pride is her fatal flaw. And when her ego is wounded, especially when it comes to you, she feels an inherent need to try and get it back.

She can’t beat up Harry, but showing everyone you’re hers is what you guessed she would do next.

She grabs you by the neck, the other arm wrapping around your waist, bringing you two closer together. You’re touching everywhere, kissing her is like touching her electric spear, and she finally pulls away slowly.

She can’t say that she loves you, so she just kisses your temple instead, wrapping her arm back around your shoulder.

As much as you hate violence, that was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

—-

Clarisse drags you off to her cabin.

“Oh, fuck,” she mumbles, opening the door.

“What?” you whisper, squeezing her hand.

“The contest. We should have stayed-”

You snort. “Who gives a fuck about the contest? I’ve been swayed. Let’s go make out.”

She seems a little shocked, extremely excited, and starts ushering you towards the ladder of the loft.

“Well, who am I to deny you,” she says, holding your ass as you ascend.

“Also, stop punching people.”

“That’s where I deny you.”

You make it to the top, her hands on your waist as she follows you. She’s always touching you, like she’s addicted to you. You pretend, but you’re so in love with her you genuinely think you’re gonna fall over just thinking about her sometimes.

“Clarisse, seriously. You’re gonna get in trouble one day, and-”

She spins you around and throws you back on your bed. You yelp as she climbs on top of you.

“No. Kiss now, lecture later.”

You protest, but she shuts you up by smashing her lips into yours. It’s rough, you did tease her all night, all teeth and the sounds of your roaring heartbeats.

She starts kissing down your neck, your dig your hands into your curls.

“‘She’s mine’?” you say after a second, referencing her anger-haze of a rant.

“Yes,” she says. Softly, but not sheepishly. She says it confident and proud. “You are.”

“I am,” you mutter back, having a feeling she’s gonna leave hickey’s all over you.

You do your best to flip her over, but she’s all muscle and it’s hard, so she ends up grabbing your hips and helping you.

“What?” she gasps, confused at the change of position. Not that she’s complaining, though.

“You did lose the challenge,” you tease.

She doesn’t like to admit she lost.

You hover your lips right above hers.

“Say it.”

Her fingers dig into your hips.

“I lost,” she grits. “You won.”

“I did,” you mumble, lips grazing yours, but you’re getting bored and you want to kiss her just as bad.

And you do, your hands on her face, her fingers starting to slip under your shirt. She mumbles against your lips.

“Fuck, this is so much better than revenge.”

—-

(i’m actually the funniest person alive if you couldn’t tell)

—-

clarisse: oh, so you think i cant take care of my girlfriend? because we’re not close enough? because you think she’s cold? well guess what. now i’m never letting her out of my sight again, fuckfaces

y/n: FUCK YES i mean noooooooo noooooo that’s horrible omggg

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme

@jazhandzzz @urbisexualfriend

[mazeinthemiroh]

im not sure sent req or yet (-人-。) can i req skz when his friend pretend to be stay and carry a sign '__ marry me!' or shout 'that's my boy' at random event (¯ ▽ ¯)

stray kids when their best friend acts like a stay

genre: crack, fluff

warnings: cursing

please like and reblog if you enjoy :))))

chan

he's just happy you support him tbh. he doesn't mind how you support him so long as you're there for him lol. he gets a really good laugh when you're waving cringe or inappropriate signs at his concerts. you definitely tickle his funny bone when you pull stuff like that when he's literally doing his job. he can't help but laugh though because who wouldn't??

minho

he will stop to read your sign saying "marry me lee know" and smirk widely, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. might blow you a little kiss if you're lucky. he finds your little jokes and attempts like these to be very amusing and will never get tired of them, especially when you come to their concerts a lot just give him a little encouragement.

changbin

i mean he's used to his friends acting like fans; we saw how wooyoung was like in kingdom i live for them crumbs. changbin usually chuckles and plays along with you, making a joke out of it and pretty much encouraging this type of behaviour. he's honestly flattered because he knows no matter what type of jokes you pull, you do sincerely support him and his career.

hyunjin

debates on whether to ignore you or not most of the time. but of course, he can't ignore you for too long. you're the loudest one to scream his name in concerts, which says a lot. it's when you turn up to fansigns, unannounced, and he just bursts into his hearty laughter when he just sees you sitting them in front of him because he never expects you to do shit like this even though you do??

jisung

he thinks your little antics are hilarious but he's gotten so used to them now he almost expects it. what he didn't expect was you screaming 'HAN JISUNG' at the top of your lungs in the middle of a paparazzi shoot. the other fans were loud, sure, but you were louder. his face was shocked, but once he realised it was you, he couldn't stop laughing after that.

felix

he gets a little embarrassed or shy but he honestly doesn't mind in the slightest. he knows you're only playing around and honestly, he would do the same if the situation was the other way round. so even though he may pout and protest when he calls you out for your dramatic fan activities, he secretly loves it.

seungmin

will roll his eyes and ignore you, pretending he doesn't know you and acting like you're not even there. rude!! i personally wouldn't take that if i were you. might acknowledge you every now and then by pulling faces at you to make you laugh, but otherwise if you do anything to embarrass him he's blocking you irl 💀

jeongin

your antics are well-known to all the members as well as stays. they know you're besties with jeongin and that you also like to make an appearance during fansigns and concerts to show your support. so when you turn up to a fansign and yell 'innie, you're so handsome!' stays laugh and cheer once you finally get his attention, to which he usually grins shyly and covers his face.

[amhrosina]

It's Always Been You

Summary: You and Miguel are forced to confront your feelings for one another after a dangerous mission goes awry.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara (Spider-Man 2099) x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

masterlist // join my taglist // follow me on instagram & ao3

a/n: i cannot stop thinking about this man ohmygod anyways im overwhelmed by the love being shown for my other miguel fic and cant wait to add more to this community!!! thank you!!! (should i do a part two with smut? like friends to lovers first time?? lemme know <;3)

warnings: friends to lovers, arguing, some angst, love confessions!!!!!, reader calls miguel a name, idiots in love tbh, references to a dangerous situation (but no details i kept it super vague lol), starts to get a little suggestive at the end but is like 99% fluff

Miguel was ignoring you. Not in the usual, self-brooding, grumpy way he sometimes did when he was having a bad day, but in the way that told you he was furious with you. Anger had been radiating off of him in waves since your chaotic return to Nueva York a few hours earlier, and you, along with every other Spider-person at headquarters, was avoiding his workspace like the plague. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to console him, but you knew, probably better than anyone, that when Miguel wanted to brood, he would. You would try again later, and eventually you’d make him laugh, and the world would right itself again. It always did.

Spider-Woman huffed, plopping into the seat next to yours in the cafeteria, slamming her tray down hard enough to knock your tablet on its side. Clearly, she was upset about something. 

“Is everyone pissed off today?” You asked indignantly.

She glared at you, shoving a bite of sandwich in her mouth before answering.

“Miguel’s being pissy.” She glared at you. “And it’s your fault.”

“I can’t imagine why. We got the guy, didn’t we?” 

“We both know what you did was reckless.” Her glare intensified, and your annoyance shifted to guilt. It was a reckless move, but it worked. 

“He was being torn to shreds. I did what any of us would’ve done. If he has a problem, he can come talk to me about it instead of hiding from all of us like a teenager.”

Her gaze softened. “He has a lot on his plate.”

“So?” You combatted, annoyed all over again.

“So, I think maybe what happened today scared him, and he doesn’t know how to process his feelings about it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shrugged, refusing to meet her gaze.

“You’re his best friend, and he almost lost you today. Go talk to him.” She suggested, patting your shoulder. “I think it’ll do everyone some good. And I do mean everyone. He’s scary when he’s mad.”

You shrugged her off, finishing your dinner in silence. If Miguel was so pissed, why couldn’t he come talk to you about it? Why, after years of knowing each other, were you still the one approaching him with an apology? Why couldn’t he just say what he meant for once?

But of course, after you finished your dinner and realized, hopelessly, that the only person you wanted to see was, in fact, Miguel, you huffed and began the trek to his office, where you knew he’d still be brooding.

The tension in the building had lessened after many of the spider-people had returned to their own universes, glad to get away from the uncomfortable elephant in the room, but that didn’t stop your stomach from clenching when you rounded the corner into Miguel’s dim, untidy workspace.

He was hunched over his desk, scribbling something down on a piece of paper. From your position, you had a clear view of the damage that had been done to his back earlier that day. You winced, thinking back to the few seconds of absolute terror you’d experienced when you’d seen the anomaly tearing into Miguel’s skin. The claw marks had already healed a little, now just raw, nasty looking scratches down the curve of his spine. 

He turned at the sound of your footsteps, though he had likely heard you coming since you stepped foot out of the cafeteria. Anger flickered in his cold gaze, but he was still here, decidedly not hiding from you, which was a good sign. You stepped into the workspace, setting the extra food you’d bought for him down before fully turning to face him.

“Hey.” You murmured. “Brought you some dinner.”

His gaze flicked from your awkward stance to the box of food on the table. “Thanks.”

Short. Blunt. To the point. You sighed.

“You’re still mad, then?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“Are you saying I shouldn’t be mad at the stunt you pulled today?” He glared, standing to his full height and towering over you.

“I’m saying you shouldn’t be mad at me for saving your life, asshole.” You looked up at him, refusing to back down.

“I had it under control. It was my anomaly to handle.” His nostrils flared with anger. 

You threw your hands up indignantly. “It was our anomaly to handle, and I handled it just fine! In case you don’t remember, I was good enough at handling myself to be recruited by you for this stupid team!”

“What you did was incredibly stupid. The anomaly could have killed you. Don’t you get that?”

“The anomaly was killing you. I did what I thought was best-”

“Exactly. You did what you thought was best and didn’t think once about the team. You risked an entire universe to show off!” He cut you off, slamming his hands on the desk on either side of you, effectively cornering you.

Your voices had risen considerably since your initial arrival, and you were now inches apart, screaming at each other.

“To show off?” You pushed at his enormous chest, vision blurred with a mixture of tears and anger. “I risked an entire universe to protect you, you asshole! Everything I do is to protect you.”

He grabbed your wrists, easily stopping your arms from pushing him again. 

“You could have died.” He grunted, squeezing your wrists.

“Why do you even care, Miguel? The anomaly was taken care of, just like it always is. We’ll go take care of another one tomorrow, just like we always do.”

“Because I love you, obviously!” He yelled, releasing his grip on you and taking a full step backwards. Stunned into silence, neither of you said anything for a full ten seconds. He began pacing in front of you, hands on his hips, breathing heavily as the magnitude of what he’d just revealed fully hit him. He paused when he heard you sniffle, and began speaking.

“I love you. Can’t you see that?” He asked, stepping close to you. Tears welled in your eyes, and you couldn’t bear to look up at him for fear that it might be a dream, or worse, a cruel trick of his. “I care because I love you, and I almost lost you. I-” he swallowed thickly, “I almost lost it when I realized what you were doing. And when we couldn’t find you after? That was the worst thirty seconds of my life.” He shook his head, clearing the thoughts from his mind. “I can’t lose you. Do you understand that? You’re mine. I can’t lose you, baby.”

You finally lifted your chin, meeting his gaze. He tentatively cradled your cheeks, wiping away the stray tears that had snuck down your face during his speech. 

“I love you, too.” You murmured, nuzzling into his palm. “But you can’t expect me to just watch while you’re being torn to shreds. I had to do something.”

He nodded, though it clearly pained him to agree with you about it. “I know. And I know you can handle yourself. I’m sorry for getting so angry, but you have to understand that your safety is the most important thing to me when we go chasing after anomalies. And I know that it should be saving the universes that we’re in, but it’s not. It’s you, and it’s always been you. Don’t ask me to change that. It will always be you.”

You blinked up at him in stunned silence, nodding. You couldn’t remember when your feelings for Miguel had shifted to something beyond friendly, but you’d never before allowed yourself the fantasy of him loving you in return. It was something you’d come to terms with months ago, accepting that you’d never get to hold him the way he deserved to be held. But now he was standing with you, holding you, begging you to understand that all of his anger has been out of pure, unselfish love for you. 

“I won’t ask you to change that.” You conceded, a small grin forming on your face, “As long as you promise to at least try to stay out of harm’s way.”

“I promise, but you know harm seems to seek me out no matter what.” His grin mirrored the one on your face. He shifted his head down, stopping only centimeters away from your lips. “If I asked you to kiss me right now, would you?”

“That depends.” You breathed, heart thundering in your chest. “Are you going to be this dramatic every time I save your ass, O’Hara?”

He chuckled, cradling your head in his massive hands. “Maybe. Yes. Definitely.”

You shrugged, nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He asked, eyes flicking between your gaze and your lips.

“Okay.” You bobbed your head once and then leaned in.

He captured your lips in an earth-shattering kiss, exploring every inch of what you offered to him eagerly. His hands roamed the length of your body, pulling you fully against his heated skin. You melted into him, pliable to his every whim and desire, going exactly where he wanted you to go, doing exactly what he wanted you to do. Heat coiled in your entire body, poised to erupt at the slightest touch he offered. You reached forward, tugging at the material around his waist. If he wasn’t inside of you soon, you thought you might explode. His hands wandered below your waistband, too, eager to please.

A loud clunking sound from around the corner had you springing apart, panting, overheated, and completely high off one another’s touch. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed to be seen kissing Miguel. In fact, you were planning on kissing him at every moment possible, if he’d let you. It was the fact that you’d very nearly allowed him to strip you naked and have his way with you in his very public office. He seemed to be thinking the same thing, coming to his senses and adjusting the uncomfortable looking bulge in his pants as the sound of footsteps grew nearer.

“Miguel, you’re going to be in an even worse mood if you don’t just go talk to her. I mean, really, you’re both acting like idiots and clearly love each oth- oh!”

Spider-Woman came into view, waving her hands frantically and then doing her very best to hide the smile growing on her face. You shifted your feet awkwardly, trying your best to look like you hadn’t had Miguel’s tongue shoved down your throat ten seconds earlier. Miguel, as stoic and unperturbed as ever, had simply bent down and returned to scribbling on the paper from earlier, which made you involuntarily scowl. He always looked so cool. It was annoying.

“Am I…interrupting something?” Spider-Woman asked, smirking. Clearly, you weren’t doing a great job hiding anything from her. 

“What was that you were saying when you came in? Something about my mood?” Miguel asked, lifting his gaze to hers.

“Oh, nothing!” She grinned, turning on her heels and leaving the room as fast as she had entered it.

Miguel looked at you, suddenly shy now that you were alone together again. “Wanna bet how long it’ll be before she spills the beans to someone about us?”

You barked a laugh. “I’ll give you my entire paycheck if she hasn’t announced it to someone already.” 

Tag List:

@foxglove-grove @lavnderluv @khaleesihavilliard @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xshewayout @blep--bloop @kpopgirlbtssvt @aynsleywalker @queenofthenoobs @ostricx @horrorflix @anthonymackiehasmyheart

[saetoshi]

corazón de melón.

tldr; the one time you have a proper conversation with itoshi sae ends up unleashing a series of events you never imagined could’ve happened.

wc. 10.2k

¿?: roommates to lovers, college!au, idiots in love, this is pure domesticity tbh, fluff, lowk word vomit, ooc-ish sae (he’s a silly lil guy sometimes this is the hill i’ll die on), slow burn ig ??, swearing, someone’s mean to you (not sae), not proofread (no surprise)

a/n: i have so many emotions in my heart for sae, SOMEONE SEDATE ME PLEASE FREE ME FROM HIM I CANT LIVE NORMALLY ANYMORE, turned rue into a sae liker for this so real of me, @rintosei, enjoy ur meal my children this is probably the longest thing i’ll write in a hot minute

when others think of itoshi sae, many words come to mind: genius, talented, jerk, asshole, rude, mean, scary, lashes, pretty—the list goes on. 

you have no particular thoughts about sae. all he is to you is your roommate. you’d like to have an opinion of him, but that seems impossible with the way you can count the number of times you’ve spoken to him with one hand.

though, if you had to be honest, the only common thread in the few interactions you’ve had is that he very clearly does not care for your company—or anyone’s company, for that matter. 

not that you blame him. if you had to deal with having to go to practice after a day of classes, you wouldn’t want to interact with anyone else, either. (you’d also not have the energy to do anything.)

it’s why you’re used to hearing him get back to the apartment while you’re eating dinner; why you started leaving some leftovers for him to eat whenever he wants to.

it’s also why you’re surprised when he comes back from practice earlier than usual. you jump when you hear the front door open, placing your hand over your heart.

your turn to the door, eyes widening slightly when you see sae walk in. you don’t greet him—you never do—you don’t think he’d appreciate it. (he never greets you either, so you assumed it was fine.)

so, you turn your attention back to the tv, reaching out to grab the broom. you quickly start sweeping, humming a tune while the noise of whatever drama is playing in the background fills the apartment. 

you barely register that sae’s door doesn’t open, but the thought quickly leaves your mind when something dramatic happens to one of the leads. 

you take a step back, an unceremonious yelp leaving your lips when your back bumps into something. a second passes by before you slowly tilt your head back.  

your eyes are met with a pair of teal ones. a sheepish smile tugs at your lips, “hi?” 

he raises a brow, “what are you doing?”

“cleaning.” you move the broom from side to side in hopes to draw his attention to it. (he barely glances at it before his eyes snap back to yours.)

you take a step forward, moving to face him. he just stares at you. an awkward silence settles between the two of you.

“you’re back early.” you hope he didn’t hear your voice crack.

he blinks, clearly uninterested. “practice ended early.” 

you hum, nervously bouncing on the balls of your feet. you huff, tapping your fingers against the broom. “i see.”

it’s clear both of you feel uncomfortable. still, neither of you makes a move to leave. you’re more surprised sae’s still standing in front of you. (sae’s mildly intrigued you’re attempting to talk to him.)

you open your mouth to speak, but promptly shut it close. you repeat the action two more times before sae interrupts you, “what?”

your eyes drift away from his. you gnaw on your bottom lip. “it’s nothing.”

he glares at you. “just spit it out.”

your eyes widen, snapping back to look at him as you dismissively wave your hand. “it’s really nothing, you can just leave!”

“you clearly have something you want to say to me,” he deadpans, “so i suggest you get it over with so we can put an end to this lukewarm conversation.”

you take a deep breath, wiping one hand against your shirt, gently swaying the broom with the other. “i was just wondering, y’know since you’re back early–”

“hurry up.”

“do you wanna eat together?” you look at the ground, feet shuffling uncomfortably. the silence feels unbearable. 

“that’s it?” the confusion in his voice confuses you. you lift your eyes to stare at him, confusion etched in your face.

your head tilts to the side in confusion, “what do you mean ‘that’s it’?” 

“you wanna eat with me?” he points at himself. his brows knit when you nod. sae owlishly blinks, 

“okay.”

his eyes widen in confusion when he sees an elated smile bloom on your lips. 

“i won’t start cooking yet, since i at least have to finish sweeping,” you hum, “but if you’re hungry you could get started on something and i’ll join you when i’m done.”

“i can’t cook.” sae awkwardly coughs. he shoves his hands into his pockets, looking away from you, a soft flush spreading through his cheeks.

“oh,” you blink, smiling at him. “that’s fine! i can cook something while you clean instead.”

the blush on his cheeks deepens as his brows furrow.  “i don’t know how to clean.”

your smile tightens, eyes squinting as you inch closer to him.

there’s a beat of silence. “what can you do then?”

“play football.” you wait a few seconds for him to say something else. 

“that’s it?”

“yeah.” he says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. (as if it was the only thing that mattered.)

you rub your forehead, a dry laugh escaping your lips. 

if you were to tell others of this discovery you’re sure they wouldn’t believe you. you’re not even sure you believe him, yourself.

at least you didn’t, until he took the broom from your grasp. you have to bite back your laughter when he can’t even hold it properly. you wonder how he’d manage to survive alone.

itoshi sae is basically useless outside of football, you conclude. (and you’re not sure if this is the opinion you want to have about your roommate.)

it’s been a week since you learned about sae’s lack of ability to do seemingly anything other than kick a ball around.

it’s also been a week since he started coming back from practice earlier. you have mixed feelings about it. on one hand, you find it strangely comforting knowing you’re not alone in the apartment. on the other, sae just stares at you while you clean.

you’re sick of feeling his eyes follow you around. it feels like a predator watching its prey. having his eyes trail you makes you feel judged, and you’ve had enough.

so, you tighten your grip around the mop in your hands, turning around to look at sae. you take a deep breath, “why are you staring at me?”

he blinks, propping an arm on a couch cushion and leaning his head into his palm. “i’m trying to learn.”

confusion paints itself all over your face, “learn what?” 

“learn to clean.” you hate when he says things like they’re the most obvious thing ever. it makes you feel as if he expects you to know what goes on in his head.

“by staring at me?” you raise a brow. 

he simply shrugs, “i’m a visual learner.”

you don’t know if you believe him. 

so, you place one of your hands on your hips, tilting the mop back and forth with the other one. “in that case, you should try cleaning today.”

his eyes widen, mouth curling into a fine line. “i don’t think i’m ready for that.”

you take a step closer to him, holding the mop out to him. “well, i think that after a week of watching me you should start practicing what you’ve learned.”

“don’t ever think again.” he frowns.

“oh, please,” you roll your eyes, “don’t tell me the itoshi sae is afraid of a little mopping.”

that makes him get up. you bite back the satisfied smile threatening to creep up your face when he snatches the mop from your hands.

“i’m just supposed to move this side to side, right?” he stiffly holds the mop, looking at you with a raised brow.

“‘m not gonna help you out,” you make your way to the couch, mimicking his earlier position. “if you’ve been learning from staring at me for a week then you should know what to do.”

“i know what to do.” he rolls his eyes, “i just don’t know how to do it.”

“figure it out, then.” you lean forward against the palm of your hand, trying to hide your smile behind your fingers.

he glares at you and scoffs, redirecting his attention to the object in his hands. you fail to stifle your laughter when he moves the mop in a sweeping motion.

“don’t laugh!” his grip tightens around the mop, heat rushing to his ears. 

you bite your tongue, the ghost of a smile still lingering on your lips, “i’m not.”

he tsks, slightly pouting. he walks towards you, dragging the mop behind him. you look up at him, you eyes flutter closed when he flicks your forehead. 

“teach me.” your eyes snap open, flickering to meet his. a confused noise leaves your lips as your brows furrow. 

“teach you what?” your eyes flutter when he flicks your forehead again.

sae’s eye twitches in annoyance, “are you stupid or something?”

you glare at him, “not everyone thinks the same things you do!”

he clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes. he points at the mop and then at himself. “teach me to clean.”

“i thought you said you were a visual learner.” you deadpan. 

“consider this your punishment for laughing at me.” he huffs, a condescending smile blooming on his lips when he sees your pained expression.

his face leans closer to yours, “i look forward to learning from you, teach.”

you dumbly stare at him as he places the mop in your hands. he flashes you a shit-eating grin before retreating to his room. you blink twice before coming to your senses, punching the couch cushions in anger. 

you wish you hadn’t found out itoshi sae was a little shit. you much preferred when you only thought of him as your useless roommate. 

itoshi sae is the most infuriating student you’ve ever met. 

you thought someone described as a genius would be a much better student than he actually is. he doesn’t pay attention to anything you say at all. you wonder if his teachers just let him pass the class because they don’t want him around anymore. 

you have a newfound respect for his actual teachers. you don’t know how they manage to stand him for a whole semester when you don’t think you can even last two weeks. (it’s still longer than you expected.)

“sae,” you loudly sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, “you’re doing it wrong. again.” 

his grip around the broom tightens, his knuckles turning white, “i’m doing what you told me to do!”

“you’re not!” you groan, running a hand down your face, “gosh, how do you manage to do everything i tell you the wrong way?”

“what, so i’m the problem?” his eyes narrow, he takes a step closer to you, “have you ever thought that maybe you’re a bad teacher?”

an angry gasp leaves your lips, “excuse me?!”

“you heard me.” he grits his teeth, “you’re clearly the most lukewarm teacher ever. how do you expect me to learn when you don’t care about teaching me properly?”

“have you ever considered that maybe i don’t want to teach you because you forced me to?” you rub your temples in a poor attempt to prevent the coming headache.

he scoffs, brows knitting in annoyance, “you could at least put more effort into making sure i’m learning.”

“you think i’m not?” you point him square in the chest, glaring at him. “i’m doing my best here, okay? it’s not my fault you’re a shit student.”

“you–”

“you listen while your teacher is speaking.” you seethe, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, “i’m trying to do the best i can. i’m not qualified to teach you anything, especially not with how you don’t even pay attention to what i say!”

he frowns, “well, i–”

you shake him as hard as you can, angry tears pooling in your eyes, “you’re the most ungrateful, useless piece of fucking shit i’ve ever met in my life!”

sae grabs your wrists, letting the broom fall with a clang to the floor. he stares at you with wide eyes. you blink, heat creeping up your face in embarrassment.

there’s a beat of silence. sae’s eyes scan your face. “you good?” 

he lets out a soft sigh of relief when you nod. “are you going to punch me if i let go?”

he relaxes a little when you shake your head. he looks at you as he slowly lets go of your hands. you stare at him, wide eyed as he gently walks you over to the couch and sits you down.

sae plops down on the other end of the couch, glancing at you. he opens his mouth to speak, but promptly closes it. you stop yourself from laughing at his awkwardness. (it reminds you of how you must’ve acted when you talked to him a couple of weeks ago.)

you twist the hem of your shirt in your hands, looking away from sae, gnawing on your bottom lip. “’m sorry about that.”

“don’t apologize.” he coughs awkwardly, crossing his arms, “i probably stressed you out too much.”

“yeah, but, still,” you turn to face him, “i shouldn’t have said something so rude.”

“it’s fine. i really did deserve that, after all.” an amused laugh escapes his lips, “i’ve never heard you so mad before, though.”

you tilt your head to the side, “what do you mean?” 

“i mean,” a hint of amused smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “you tend to get really loud when you complain about your classes. i can hear you all the way to my room.”

your face heats up in embarrassment. you slump against the couch, hiding your face behind your hands. “sorry.”

“stop apologizing,” you slightly relax when you hear a sliver of empathy in his voice. “it’s better to let your emotions out instead of holding them in.”

you lower your hands from your face, staring at him. “do you do that?”

“it depends,” he hums, “feelings are lukewarm most of the time, so when i get angry or whatever i’ll let it out so i can get it over with.”

you narrow your eyes at him, scanning his face. “how does that even work?”

he shrugs nonchalantly, “if i get mad at someone i’ll say it to their face while i’m still mad so i can stop being angry.”

you mull over his words, “so instead of having pent up feelings and reaching your limit, you just act on your emotions as soon as possible so you go back to feeling nothing?”

“pretty much.”

a small hum leaves your lips. silence settles between the two of you before a loud growl echoes through the apartment. laughter bubbles in your chest, spilling out of your mouth when sae’s face flushes.

“shut up!” he hides behind his hands, “i haven’t eaten all day!”

you stand up, walking over and extending a hand out to sae, “wanna help out with dinner?”

he lowers his hands from his face, glancing between your eyes and your hand. he blinks, “i can’t cook.”

“i know,” a smile blooms on your lips, “you can consider it your first lesson.”

sae’s eyes light up, the corners of his lips tilting up ever so slightly. “you’re still gonna teach me?”

“i can’t let you stay useless forever.” you stick your tongue out at him, smiling when he grabs your hand.

a huff of laughter escapes his lips when you fail to tug him up. you flip him off before leaving him behind on the couch. a smile lingers on his face when he follows you to the kitchen. 

he’s not a good assistant. (and he’s an even worse cook). in fact, if you’d known that letting him into the kitchen would’ve resulted in having to evacuate the building due to the fire alarm, you wouldn’t have asked for his help at all.

however, you do appreciate that he invited you out for dinner later as an apology for stressing you out. 

(it makes you think he’s more considerate than he pretends to be.)

you’ve lost track of the times you’ve had to apologize to your neighbors over sae activating the fire alarm. 

it’s embarrassing enough that seemingly everyone in the complex goes to your college, but sae seems to make it worse by glaring at anyone who so much as looks in your direction with a judgemental stare.

“i can’t keep going on like this,” you cover your face with your hands. you shrink into yourself when you feel multiple eyes staring at the back of your head.

“stop overreacting.” sae clicks his tongue. still, he discreetly grabs the hem of your shirt and gently pulls you closer to his side. 

you lower your hands from your face, frowning at him as tears of shame pool in your eyes. “everyone’s judging us!”

“just ignore them.” he awkwardly pats your head, “they’ll forget about it soon enough.”

“sae, this happens almost every week!” you cry, gnawing your lower lip, “some guy yelled at me last time because we interrupted his studying! do you have any idea how long i had to apologize for?”

his jaw clenches as anger flashes through his face for a split second before his uninterested expression returns. “what’d he look like?”

“i don’t know,” you blink, “he was tall. he also had brown-ish hair, i think?”

he shoves his hands in his pockets, tilting his head in the direction of the building, “do you know his apartment number?” 

“no,” you sigh. “why?”

the corners of his lips quirk up into a mischievous smile. “i was thinking of baking him some apology cookies.”

you cover your mouth in a feeble attempt to stifle your laughter. (if everyone was staring at you in judgment for triggering the fire alarm, now they’re judging you for laughing in this situation.)

sae tugs you into the building when you’re all cleared to enter, glaring at a few neighbors who shoot dirty looks at both of you.

you smack his arm, “stop doing that, you’re embarrassing us!”

he scoffs, flipping off anyone who’s still staring, “does it look like i care? they’re all too scared to say anything to my face, anyway.”

“yeah, but they always say shit to me when you’re gone,” you click your tongue, frowning. sae drags you up the stairs to your apartment.

both of you stand in front of your door when sae puts his hands on your shoulders, staring at you in the eyes. his eyes are a pretty shade of teal, you note.

“if anyone gives you shit when you’re alone, just remember what they look like, ‘kay?” he flicks your forehead, a malicious gleam in his eyes, “i’ll make sure to personally apologize for the trouble.”

a smile blooms on your lips, “you’re so mean.”

“shut up,” he rolls his eyes, pinching your cheek, “as your roommate, i’m the only one allowed to give you a hard time.”

“whatever you say, freak,” you rub your cheek, smile widening, swatting his hand away when he reaches out to pinch your other cheek. 

sae bites back a smile as he nods his head toward the door. “did you bring your key?”

you reach into your pockets, feeling around for the key. your head tilts down, eyes widening in panic when you don’t find anything. 

an embarrassed chuckle slips past your lips when you lift your head back up to look at sae. he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“gosh, you’re so useless.” 

you kick his shin, sticking your tongue out at him, “you don’t get to say that to me.”

he sticks his tongue out at you in return, crossing his arms. “whatever. just go and ask the landlord for a key.”

“me?” you raise your brows at him, haughtily tilting your head to the side, “you’re the reason we had to evacuate the building in the first place! i think it’s only fair that you get the key.”

sae opens his mouth to tell you off, but seemingly decides to sigh loudly in annoyed defeat instead, “fine.”

you smile triumphantly, turning to face him, your eyes closing as your chest puffs out in pride. sae rests his index finger on your forehead. your eyes flutter open in confusion at the contact, smile dropping into a curious pout. 

“tell me if anyone bothers you while i’m gone.” he flicks your forehead one last time before turning around and walking away. a content smile blooms on your lips as you stare at his back, sliding down to sit next to the door.

you don’t tell him the tall guy from last time dropped by to yell at you again. sae didn’t even have to ask to tell something was wrong with the way your smile seemed dimmer when you told him you’d take over making lunch.

he doesn’t tell you he’s going to give that asshole the ‘apology’ cookies he’d mentioned before. (and he definitely doesn’t mention that he got his apartment number from the landlord when he got the key to your apartment.) but you had an inkling of what he was going to do when you saw him take out some bowls and a whisk from the cabinets. (you didn’t stop him.)

you bake him some actual ‘thank you’ cookies and place them by his door before heading to your room for the night. the next morning you find a post-it with an ‘anytime’ messily scribbled on it and a ‘thanks for the cookies :)’ on the other side.

you smile fondly at the teal-colored square. you think it resembles the color of his eyes. (it makes you feel warm and fuzzy.)

sae’s gotten slightly better at cooking. he’s able to make at least one meal without triggering the fire alarms.

you feel proud. you suppose that’s what teachers feel when their most lazy, unmotivated student finally manages to put effort into something. 

it makes you feel proud enough that you take a detour to the convenience store on your way home. a fond smile lights up your face when you walk out of the store, plastic bag in hand with a chocolate bar and a pack of star stickers.

there’s a skip to your step as you head home, swinging the bag back and forth. 

you’ve barely even opened the door to your apartment when it swings open. your eyes widen in surprise when they meet sae’s. 

his eyes narrow, “what took you so long?”

a slightly burnt scent wafts the apartment. your nose scrunches, “is something burning?”

“answer my question first,” he points the spatula in his hand at you. 

“i got you a reward,” you smile, lifting the bag in your hands. 

his eyes light up, “what’d you get me?”

you quickly hide the bag behind your back when he reaches out for it. “answer my question first.”

a small smile tugs at his lips. he rolls his eyes, “nothing is burning. i turned off the stove before opening the door just to be sure.”

you reach out to pat his head, a teasing smile on your lips, “good job, sae!”

he scoffs, a soft blush dusts his ears. “you make it sound like you’re praising a dog.”

you huff, “stop complaining when you’re getting praised.”

“whatever.” sae pouts, brows knitting, “when are you giving me my gift?”

“so impatient ,” you tsk, shaking your head, “let me in first, i don’t wanna stand in the hallway any longer.”

he grabs your arm and pulls you close to him, kicking the door closed. you bump into his chest, eyes widening as heat rushes to your ears.

the first thing that pops into your mind is that he smells nice. there’s a hint of a burnt scent that clings to him, but he still smells nice. (you note that he feels warm too. it makes you feel warm.)

you feel a slight pressure against your brows. it makes you blink as you slowly snap out of your stupor. 

“you good?” your eyes meet sae’s worried ones. he leans in closer to you, scanning your face. you awkwardly nod. 

his brows furrow. “are you sure? you zoned out for a bit. are your classes stressing you out too much?”

you shake your head, slightly leaning away from him. your lips press into a fine line. sae’s eyes narrow as he scans your face. he steps back, his hands resting on your shoulders. the spatula lightly digs into your skin.

“is it that guy again?” he tightens his grip, making you wince when the spatula presses harder against your skin, “is he still bothering you?”

“i think you scared him away,” you quickly swat his arms away. “i’m fine, though.”

“are you sure?” he sighs when you nod, “why’d you zone out then?”

“i got distracted,” you gnaw on your bottom lip. 

his expression morphs to confusion, “with what?”

your eyes widen slightly. you don’t want to tell him he’s the reason you zoned out. so, you settle for the only thing that comes to mind, “the smell of something burning. are you sure you turned off the stove?”

“yes.” he groans in annoyance. there’s a small pause. sae turns around, tugging you into the kitchen with him. 

“look!” he points at the stove, “it’s off. stop making me second-guess myself.”

an amused smile blooms on your face, “i can’t believe you had to come check if you actually turned it off.”

“i can’t believe you actually haven’t given me my gift yet,” he scoffs, pouting. 

you laugh, reaching out to flick his forehead. “patience is a virtue, sae. it’d do you well to have it.”

“whatever.” he tries to grab the bag from your hands. “just give it to me already.”

you smile, pulling out the chocolate bar from the bag. laughter bubbles in your chest when you see his stunned expression.

“chocolate?” he glares at the bar in your hand, “do you know how unhealthy that is for me?”

“if you don’t want it i’ll just keep it, then.” you nonchalantly shrug.

he snatches it out of your grasp. “i never said i didn’t want it.”

his eyes twinkle when he unwraps it. he glances up at you, “do you want a bite?”

“just a small one,” you reach out to grab the bar. 

sae moves the chocolate out of your reach, “open your mouth.”

you blink, tilting your head in confusion. he sighs, “i’ll feed it to you. i need to make sure you don’t bite off half of the bar.”

“do you trust me so little?” you scoff, crossing your arms. still, you open your mouth, heat rushing to your ears when sae tells you to take a bite. 

“is it good?” he stares at you, taking a bite of the chocolate when you nod. 

you both swallow at the same time, a smile lighting up your face. “i think you deserve another reward for sharing.”

his brows raise in intrigue, “another? gosh, you’re really spoiling me today, aren’t you?”

you take the pack of stickers out of the back, waving it in front of him. he gives you an unamused look. 

“i bought these for whenever you do something nice,” you place a sticker on his cheek.

“that’s stupid,” he frowns. 

“shut up, you look cute.” you pinch his other cheek.

he clicks his tongue, “whatever. now get out of my kitchen i need to continue making dinner.”

laughter spills out of your mouth when he pushes you into the living room. “do you want me to help?”

“no.” he huffs, “i can do it myself. now go relax or something, i’ll come get you when dinner’s ready.”

“are you sure you’ll be fine on your own?” you snicker, “i’d hate to have to evacuate the building.”

he lightly smacks your shoulder, “i can cook by myself!”

“sae–”

“just let me cook something for you this once,” he mutters. 

a soft, defeated sigh leaves your lips, “okay.”

“i’ll let you cook alone,” you smile, “just this once, though. i can’t leave you unsupervised for too long.”

he hums, patting your head before heading back to the kitchen. a small smile lingers on your lips as you make your way to the couch, turning on the tv.

it doesn’t take long for sae to walk over, two plates in his hands, and a self-satisfied smile on his lips.

you’d be lying if you said the meal was good. it was slightly charred, and a little too salty. you’re sure you would’ve managed to turn it into something decent if he’d let you help. 

still, as bad as the food was, you can’t help but eat it with a smile on your face, a warm, fuzzy feeling tugging at your heart. 

sae groans in annoyance when you place another sticker on his forehead. (your heart leaps when you notice the soft flush to his cheeks.)

he lets you help him wash the dishes, complaining when you flick soapy water in his direction. laughter fills the apartment when he flicks water back at you. time seemingly slowing down to let you savor the moment just a little longer before you head back to your room.

you drift off to sleep with a smile on your face. your heart drums against your chest when you recall the smile on sae’s face. 

(you wish he’d smile at you more often.)

you’ve discovered sae is much better at cleaning than he is at cooking. you’ve also discovered that he’s more thoughtful than he lets on. 

he tends to clean the apartment while you’re in class. he claims it’s because he absolutely must practice cleaning in order to get better. (you don’t believe him.) he swears he ensures the apartment’s clean by the time you get home because he can’t stand your nagging. (you still don’t believe him.)

it’s why you’ve had to go out and buy more stickers to reward him with. it’s also why you’re a little surprised to see him still mopping the apartment when you get back.

you take your shoes off, quickly putting on your slippers. “you’re still cleaning?”

“i’m almost done,” he hums, “practice ended a little later today.”

you make your way to the couch, careful not to slip on the floor, “why? is there a match soon?”

“there’s one tomorrow,” he turns to look at you, frowning when he sees you pull out a pack of stickers with a teasing smile on your face. (he still makes his way over to you when you tell him to come closer despite knowing your intention.) he watches you place the sticker on his shirt, a concentrated look in your eyes.

he sticks his tongue out at you when you look up at him with a satisfied grin. sae rests his hand on top of your head. “wanna come watch?”

you tilt your head to the side, “i’m not a big football fan.”

he playfully shakes your head, brows knitting, “have you ever even been to a football match?”

“no,” you pry his hand off your head, “but i don’t really see the point of going when i know i’ll get bored.”

he rolls his eyes, “you won’t.”

“how do you know?” you lean closer to him, raising a brow, a playful grin on your lips.

he leans closer to you, nose playfully scrunching, “because i’m going to be playing.”

your face scrunches up in mock disgust, “you’re making me not want to go even more.”

he teasingly clutches his heart in faux pain, a smile on his lips as he tries to hold back his laughter, “you’re so mean. you’re hurting me right now.”

“are you trying to make me feel bad?” you bite back a smile, fondly rolling your eyes. “because it’s totally working.”

“your sarcasm wounds me,” he frowns, shaking his head. “i can’t believe my roommate won’t support me at my match.”

you punch his arm, “keep this up and you won’t be eating any dinner.”

“fuck,” a hearty laugh escapes his lips, “when’d you get so mean?”

“i learned from the best,” you stick your tongue out at him. a soft laugh leaves your lips when sae scoffs, looking away. 

“are you really not going to go see the match?” he turns to you, pouting. you hate when he uses that little pout to guilt you. (you hate that you fall for it even more.)

you sigh, slumping against the couch, “i’ll think about it.”

“just give me an actual answer, damn.” he taps your forehead, “are you going, yes or no?”

a teasing smile creeps up your lips, “maybe.”

you laugh when he calls out your name in annoyance. he groans, glaring at you, “i hate you.”

“no you don’t,” you smile at him, “if you did you wouldn’t have asked me to go see you play tomorrow.”

his face flushes in embarrassment. “you’re not even going anyway!”

you rest your head on your hand, “i am, though.”

he stares at you, unimpressed. there’s a beat of silence before he huffs, the corners of his lips quirking up, “i really can’t stand you sometimes.”

“it’s not my fault you’re fun to tease!” you laugh. he flips you off before turning around to continue mopping. you sigh, stretching your arms up. a couple of seconds go by before you get up to make your way to the kitchen.

“where are you going?” 

“the kitchen,” you hum, turning around to look at sae. your ears burn when your eyes meet his. you wish you knew what goes on in his head when he stares at you so intensely. you wish you knew if he even knows he’s staring at you so intently. a small, awkward cough leaves your lips, “i wanted to get started on dinner.”

“you’re not even going to wait for me?” you fiddle with the hem of your shirt at his teasing tone. 

sometimes you wonder if he knows how domestic your dynamic has become. if he’s aware that people have started associating him with you, and vice versa. if he’s aware of the effect his words have on you. (you really wish you could take a peek inside his mind.)

“you’d just get in my way,” you tsk, “besides i wanna finish quickly, my head hurts a little.”

he quickly walks over to you, dragging the mop behind him, “have you taken any medicine?”

“i’m fine,” you wave off the hand he placed on your forehead, “it’s probably because i’m hungry.”

“are you sure?” your heart pounds against your chest at his concern. 

you give him a reassuring smile, “i’m sure. if it still hurts before i go to bed i’ll take some medicine.”

“fine.” he huffs, lips pursing, “but if you still feel bad tomorrow, promise you’ll let me know.”

you feel your heart squeeze. you gnaw on your bottom lip, twisting the hem of your shirt with your hands. 

“i promise.” your voice is barely above a whisper, it’s just loud enough for him to hear.

he smiles, patting your head, “don’t push yourself too hard, ok?”

sae turns around. you stare at his back, his name tumbling out of your lips before you can stop yourself. he turns around with a curious hum.

you feel like your heart rests on your throat. he patiently waits for you to continue. heat rushes to your ears and you wipe your hands against your shirt. “i also promise i’ll go see your match.”

the smile that lights up his face makes you wish it was tomorrow already. you want to go. (because you like seeing him smile.) you want to go see his match. (because it’ll make him happy.)

you want to see him do his favorite thing in the world. you want to share that happiness with him, despite not caring much for the sport. (because you think it’ll make him happy to see you there, even if he doesn’t say it. you want to be the reason he feels genuine happiness.)

you’re not there.

it’s the first thing sae notices when he looks at the stands. it’s what he keeps noticing whenever he turns to look at the stands throughout the match. when they reach halftime and you’re still not there, so he texts you. the second half starts and you’re still not there. 

the game ends and you never showed up. his brows knit when he checks his phone only to find out you never even read his messages. concern carves itself into him. 

he makes his way back to the apartment as quickly as he can, secretly hoping that nothing bad happened to you.

his heart beats faster, anxiety seeping into him when he opens the door and he doesn’t see your figure on the couch. 

sae hastily kicks his shoes off, dropping his duffel bag somewhere on the floor. he lets out a deep breath when he stands in front of your door, quickly knocking.

a couple of seconds go by before he knocks again, frowning when there’s no reply. he quietly opens the door, mentally apologizing. his eyes quickly scan the room for you. there’s a lump in his throat when he sees something stir under your bed sheets. 

he quietly walks over to your bed, slowly lowering your comforter. his chest tightens, brows knitting with worry when he sees your face twisted in pain, a slight sheen of sweat on your forehead. he grabs a tissue from your nightstand, gingerly wiping the sweat away. 

he sharply inhales when you stir under his touch. sae stares at you as you slowly open your eyes. his eyes fill with concern when he notices how heavy, and unfocused yours look.

he presses the back of his hand against your forehead, brows furrowing even more, “gosh, you’re burning up.”

“sae?” he can barely hear your voice. “why’re you here?” 

he clicks his tongue, wiping more sweat off your forehead.

“what about the match?” you blearily look at him, voice laced with soft concern. you try to keep your eyes open when he heads out, grogginess catching up to you when he returns with a bowl in his hands, a hand towel over his shoulder. 

he dampens the towel, wringing out the excess onto the bowl. sae gently presses it against your forehead, “have you had a fever all day long?”

“did i miss it?” his heart aches at how choked up your voice sounds. 

“i thought i told you to tell me if you weren’t feeling alright, dumbass,” he nags, carefully lifting your head up to prop another pillow under it. 

“‘m sorry.” your eyes fill with tears, a pout tugging at your lips. he gently adjusts the towel against your skin. 

“don’t apologize,” he softly tsks, “worry about getting better, not about missing the game, idiot.”

he panics when a tear rolls down your cheek, hastily brushing it away. his heart squeezes in pain when more tears freely roll down your cheeks. 

“i didn’t,” you sniffle, “didn’t wanna miss the game.”

he shushes you, grabbing another tissue to wipe your tears away. “it’s fine.”

“‘s not,” your breath quickens, brows knitting in sadness, “i promised.”

he firmly calls out your name, “it’s not your fault.”

“i promised,” you hiccup. sae frowns, reaching out to remove the towel from your forehead, pouting when he notices you’re still burning up. he quickly dampens it again before resting it against your skin once more.

“i’ll go get you some medicine,” he whispers, turning around to exit your room.

sae stops in his tracks when he feels something weakly tug at his fingers. he turns to look at you, sucking in a shaky breath when he sees you holding on to him.

“don’t leave.” you weakly try to pull him closer. 

there’s a slight flicker of hope in him that tells him you’re aware of what you’re doing despite your raging fever. but he quickly extinguishes it by reminding himself that you probably think you’re dreaming. (because there’s no way you’d tell him to stay with you otherwise, he’s sure of it.)

“i have to get you some medicine,” he mutters. still, he makes no attempt to free his hand from yours.

“stay.” he wants to. he wants to stay with you more than anything. but he needs to get you something to relieve your fever.

he sits on your bed, readjusting your grip on his hand, “i need to go get your medicine.” 

he gingerly readjusts the towel on your forehead, slightly smiling at you. his heart pangs with worry when he notices how clammy your hands are. 

sae’s eyes widen when you lift yourself up, wrapping your arms around his neck. the towel on your forehead drops into his lap. he feels you rest your head on his shoulders, frowning at the heat emanating from you. (still, he wraps his arms around you so you don’t fall.)

his worried eyes meet your hazy ones when you slowly lift your head to look at him, a sleepy smile on your lips. 

“so stubborn,” your hands cup his cheeks. 

sae freezes when he feels your lips press against his. his heart beats faster, blush spreading through his face like wildfire. 

a sharp inhale leaves his lips when he feels your hands drop from his cheeks, your body tilting back. he cups the back of your head before it hits the pillow.

his eyes scan your face. he lowers his head when he feels your feeble grip on his jacket. his eyes flicker to yours when you weakly tug him closer in an attempt to press his lips against yours again. 

he slowly lifts your head up, a soft huff of laughter slipping past his lips when a glimmer of anticipation flashes through your eyes. he presses his lips against yours in a short peck, a startled noise leaving his mouth when you pull him back in. 

his face heats up more and more every time you chase after his lips when he pulls away for air. he pants when you pull away, trying to catch your breath. he rests his forehead against yours, his breath fanning against your lips. 

you softly call out his name. butterflies erupt in his stomach. he really hopes you know you’re not dreaming. 

his arm tightens against you, the hand resting on the back of your head gently tilting it to the side. he doesn’t think twice before pressing his lips against yours again, a content sigh escaping him when you melt under his touch. 

he presses his lips against yours over and over again, gently lowering you back onto the bed. your kisses feel like they’re the very air he breathes. like he’ll suffocate if he’s apart from you for more than a second.

sae kisses you silly until he feels your grip against his jacket soften. he pulls away, panting, face ablaze, eyes looking at your sleeping face with a softness that is so unlike him.

he carefully removes your hands from him, lifting your comforter to tuck you into bed. a smile lingers on his lips as he places the towel on your forehead again. 

he quietly makes his way out of your room, pressing the pads of his fingers against his lips. his heart feels like it wants to jump out of his chest. a deep sigh leaves his lips. he makes his way to the front door, quickly putting on his shoes to go buy your medicine.

sae really hopes you get better soon. (he wants to kiss you again, and he wants to be sure you’ll remember it properly.)

if you thought sae was a bad student, he’s an even worse patient. he is the most uncooperative sick person you’ve ever met in your life. 

you suppose it’s only fair to put up with him since he took care of you while you were sick. (even if it makes you want to knock him unconscious.)

still, it never fails to make your blood boil when you find him wobbling around the living room with a broom in his hands.

“would it kill you to stay in bed?” you stomp over to him, prying the broom off his hands before propping it against the wall.

he blearily looks at you, pouting. he sniffles, “yes.”

you frown, grabbing his hand and dragging him to his room. he glares at you when you force him to lay down on his bed. 

“stay here while i get your medicine,” you point at him, glaring back. “or i’ll suffocate you with a pillow until you fall asleep.”

“you can’t be rude to me while i’m sick!” he angrily crosses his arms, scoffing.

it’s still surprising that he’s still in bed when you get back. it’s even more surprising that he’s staring at the door, his face lighting up when you enter. 

his nose scrunches up in disgust when he sees the cough syrup in your hands. he burrows himself in his comforter, turning his head away from you. 

“sae.” you gently call out, sitting next to him. a small smile blooms on your lips when he slowly turns to look at you. “you know you have to take your medicine to get better, right?”

“if i take my medicine,” he sneezes, “will you give me a reward?”

“yeah, sure, i’ll give you a sticker.” you absentmindedly hum, uncapping the syrup. 

“no,” he shakes his head,  “i want another reward.” 

your brows raise in confusion, your turn your attention to him. “what kind of reward?”

he smiles, lifting a hand to tap his lips and then tapping yours. your face heats up, jaw dropping. you gently swat his hand away, pouting. “you shouldn’t tease like that.”

“‘m not,” he sticks his tongue out at you, “i want another kiss.”

“another?” you blink in surprise. your eyes widen slightly when a cheeky smile creeps up his lips. 

“you kissed me when you were sick,” he snickers, nose scrunching up when you force the syrup into his mouth. 

“no i didn’t,” you frown. he forces himself to swallow the cough syrup, a choked gasp leaving his lips.

“you don’t remember?” he whines, sniffling when you shake your head. 

you feel a pang in your heart when sae looks at you, eyes swimming with sadness. “‘m sorry, sae.”

“‘s fine,” he playfully smiles, “i’ll just have to make up for it later.”

heat spreads through your face. a pout tugs at your lips, “don’t say stuff like that. i might take you seriously.”

“i’m being serious,” he sniffles, “wanna kiss you again.”

you shyly stare at him, shrinking into yourself. you suppose being sick must’ve made him bolder. or maybe he just wants to get back at you. but you have to admit it gives you the perfect excuse to make him stop being so difficult.

“i’ll kiss you if you stop complaining about taking your medicine,” you quietly huff, fingers playing with your shirt. 

your ears feel like they’re on fire when his face lights up. “but only when you get better! i don’t wanna get sick again.”

he nods, a satisfied grin blooming on his lips. “sounds good to me.”

there’s a beat of silence before you stand up. sae’s eyes widen, “where are you going?”

“i’m gonna go make you some soup,” you hum, “you should sleep while i’m gone.”

sae pouts, “‘m not tired.”

“that’s too bad, then,” you stick your tongue out at him. he clicks his tongue. 

“i’ll be back soon,” you pat his head. he huffs, pouting.

you barely take a step forward, yelping when you feel something yank you back. your brows knit in annoyance when you feel sae wrapping his arms around you. 

“sae.”

“‘m only going to sleep if you stay with me.” he mutters.

an amused smile tugs at your lips. you’re starting to think he’s cute when he’s sick. a little clingy, but cute. (you also think you might indulge him just this once.)

“fine,” you sigh. “but i’m leaving as soon as you fall asleep.”

you don’t. 

you’re not sure exactly when you fell asleep, but you’re sure it wasn’t dark outside when sae pulled you towards him. part of you wants to stay with him, just to let him sleep longer. but you also know you need to make him some soup. 

so, you gently try to pry yourself off of him. a soft groan leaves your lips when his arms tighten around you. 

his name tumbles out of your mouth. “i have to go make your soup.”

“‘m coming with you.” his voice sounds hoarse. (his nose sounds stuffy, too.)

“sae,” you try to pry his arms off, “you need to rest.”

“‘m going with you.” he huffs, “there’s nothing you can say to make me not join you.”

you begrudgingly decide to indulge him again. which is why he’s slumped over your shoulder as you make your way to the kitchen. it’s why he’s holding onto your waist, burrowing his face in your neck as you move around the kitchen. 

(it’s why your face feels like it’s on fire when he nuzzles closer to you, smiling.)

and you think that maybe him being a little too clingy isn’t that bad.

when a girl in your class asks you what sae is to you, you’re not sure what to say. 

you could say he’s your roommate, like you used to. but you don’t think he’d make himself extremely comfortable in your personal space if he was just your roommate. you could also say he’s your friend (much to everyone’s surprise.) but you’re not sure if he’d be so obsessed with kissing you whenever you’re both home if he was just your friend. 

(still, he’s not exactly your boyfriend, either. you’re not sure what he is. neither of you have brought it up before.)

either way, she wouldn’t be satisfied with the answer you give her. at least, that’s what you think with the way she glowers at you.

so, you just say he’s nothing. (which is a lie. but she doesn’t need to know that.) 

the result is what you expected, some angry huffing and empty warnings to stay away from sae. (not that it’d work seeing how you live with him.) except, things take a turn for the worse when your phone screen lights up, displaying sae’s name on it while it rings on the table. 

a pained expression flashes through your face when she clears her throat. you tilt your head up to look at her, an awkward, tense smile on your lips.

“i thought you said he was nothing to you?” she scoffs. 

“he is.” you internally curse how fast you replied. you hope she didn’t notice. 

she rolls her eyes, “then why do you have his contact saved with a star on your phone?”

you blink, your lips pressing into a fine line. “because he’s a star?” 

she doesn’t look convinced. (neither are you.) a loud, annoyed groan leaves her lips as she looks you up and down, crossing her arms.

“listen here, idiot,” she glares at you. anger flashes in her eyes when your phone rings again. “i don’t know who you think you are–” 

(you don’t know who she thinks she is, but with the way she seems to be unaware that you literally live with sae, you assume she must be some clueless freshman who happened to go to one of the football matches, saw sae, and became one of his many fans.)

“–but if you even consider the idea that sae might be into you–”

(you don’t even have to consider the idea, it pretty much solidified itself as a fact given with the way he kisses you until both of you are struggling to catch your breath whenever you two are alone.)

“–then you’ve got another thing coming,” she grabs your wrist, digging her nails into your skin. “i don’t know how someone like you got his number, but he doesn’t need freaks like you bothering him.”

she looks at you with contempt, “so stay away from him, or else–”

“or else what?” 

you both turn your heads to the door. her grip on your wrist loosens. you bite back a laugh when she removes her hand, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“sae,” she takes a step closer to him. you hide your smile behind your hand when you see his clearly annoyed and disgusted expression. (you note he looks disheveled. you also notice his duffel bag slung over his shoulders.)

“or else what?” you snort at the clear anger in his voice. he glares at her, crossing his arms. she shrinks into herself, clearly nervous. 

“i was just trying to keep this freak away from you,” she plays with her hair. you feel embarrassed for her when she continues, “you shouldn’t have to deal with–”

“who the fuck even are you anyway?” he cuts her off, scowling. 

her eyes light up, “i’m–”

“leaving? i sure fucking hope so.” he scoffs, walking over to you. his face softens when he looks at you. 

sae extends his hand out to you, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips when you slip your hand into his. he reaches out for your backpack, quickly shrugging it on his shoulder before you can protest. 

“i thought you were one of the first people out of class,” he hums, lacing his fingers with yours.

your eyes flicker to the girl, who is still standing next to the table, face flushed in embarrassment. “i got held up.”

sae glances in her direction, scoffing in annoyance. “you’re still here?”

you can’t help but feel a little bad for her when her eyes well up with tears of embarrassment, her hands bunching up her skirt. “i thought–”

“you thought wrong,” he clicks his tongue, “now get lost.”

her eyes snap to yours, anger replacing the embarrassment, “i thought you said he was nothing to you!”

sae gasps, looking at you, hurt written all over his face. you look away, biting the inside of your cheek. he calls out your name, “why’d you say that?”

“i didn’t know what else to say,” you mumble. 

“say i’m your boyfriend!,” he huffs. “or do you not want to say that?”

heat floods your face. you hide your face in sae’s back when you hear choked sobs. you tug at his jacket, “can we just go home already?”

you take a peek at the girl from behind sae’s shoulder. “i don’t want to talk about this here.”

“fine,” he mutters, “but this conversation is not over.”

he drags you out of the classroom. you don’t look back, but you gnaw your bottom lip when you hear muffled sobs coming from behind you. 

you both walk in silence for a bit. a small smile blooms on your lips when sae slows down his pace to match yours. 

“i’m surprised you didn’t tell her off.” he hums. 

“you got there before i could,” you fondly shake your head, “i would’ve loved giving her a piece of my mind.”

a soft laugh leaves his lips, “i’m sure you’ll find another occasion to do so.”

the walk home feels quicker than usual. you suppose it’s because sae’s actually with you instead of over the phone.

you’re barely past the door to your apartment when sae wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. he relaxes when you wrap your arms around him. 

“if someone asks you what i am to you,” he nuzzles his face into your neck, “just tell them i’m your boyfriend.”

“are you sure?” your hands clench around his jacket. 

he pulls back slightly to look at you, confusion written all over his face. “yeah? am i not your boyfriend already?”

“i don’t know?” your brows knit in confusion. 

“i thought it was clear?” he blinks. “it wasn’t clear to you?”

“i don’t think i would’ve been threatened by one of your fangirls if it was clear,” you deadpan. 

“oh.” he presses his lips into a fine line. “well, now you know.”

your jaw drops, “you’re not even going to ask if i want you to be my boyfriend?”

“i think it’s safe to say we’re well past asking,” he stares at you. 

“still,” you pout, “it’d be nice if you did.”

“what, are you going to give me a sticker if i do?” he scoffs. 

“i was gonna give you a kiss, but if you don’t wanna ask, then–”

“would you let me be your boyfriend?”

laughter spills out of your lips, “you didn’t even let me finish!” 

“just answer my question.” he smiles. “and hurry it up too, i have to clean.”

you playfully shake your head, “so demanding. but, i suppose you can be my boyfriend.”

sae’s lips are on yours as soon as the words leave your mouth. you gasp in surprise when he nips at your lower lip. 

you’re not sure how long he kisses you for, but you feel dizzy when you pull away. you angle your head away from his when he chases after your lips again. 

“i thought,” you pant, “thought you said you had to clean.” 

“it can wait.” he breathes out. 

“i have to cook.” 

he angles your head back to face him, “it can wait.”

“but–”

he calls out your name with a smile, “it can all wait. just let me kiss you again.”

“okay.” you smile when he tilts your head towards his. 

you think you’re starting to understand sae’s obsession with kissing you.

when you think of itoshi sae, the first thing that comes to mind is: boyfriend. you’re not sure if you’re ever going to get used to calling him that. you’ve told him it still sounds weird, he simply says it sounds perfect. 

you’re also not sure you’ll ever get used to the many pairs of eyes staring holes into the back of your head. (you blame sae for insisting you wear his spare jersey to his games.)

still, you suppose you could put up with all the staring if it means you get to see sae play.

(even if it means you have to endure his showing off for the next hour.)

“did you see how great i was out there?” he puffs out his chest. 

“you were the best!” you smile when he laces his fingers with yours. “i think you deserve a reward.”

you bite back a laugh when his head turns to look at you, eyes twinkling with anticipation. “close your eyes.”

you can practically feel the excitement rolling off of him as he closes his eyes. you let go of his hand, snickering when his brows furrow. you quickly reach into your bag, pulling out the sticker sheet you stashed in there. 

a laugh leaves your lips when you gingerly place a star sticker on sae’s cheek. “you can open your eyes now.”

you heartily laugh when sae touches his cheek, glaring at you when he feels the outline of a star. he huffs, “you’re the worst.”

“shut up, you love them.” you flick his forehead. 

he tsks, poking your nose. “when you said i deserved a reward, i thought you meant a kiss.”

“i can kiss you if you want.” you cheekily smile at him. he huffs, crossing his arms.

he turns his head away from you, “you ruined the moment with those stupid, lukewarm stickers.”

“you say that as if you don’t stick them against your mirror.” you stick your tongue out at him, the corners of your lips lifting into a smile when his cheeks flush. 

“i hate you,” he frowns, looking at you.

“no you don’t,” you peck his cheek.

“whatever,” he grumbles, “let’s just go home already.”

you laugh when he grabs your hand, tugging you in the direction of your apartment. (you don’t mention the smile on his lips.)

“i’m going to cook today,” he laughs when you groan in disgust. “i’ve gotten better!”

“yeah, right.” you quip. “i think it’d be better if you clean while i cook.”

“what if we cook together?” he hums.

“you’ll just get in my way.” you smile, laughing when he shakes your arm. 

“what if we go out to eat?” he shrugs nonchalantly. (you still notice the flush on his ears.)

“itoshi sae!” you gasp dramatically, “are you asking me out on a date?”

he scoffs, cheeks turning bright red. “don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“i’d be honored to go out with the itoshi sae,” your voice drips with mischief. a soft gasp leaves your lips when he tugs you to him, wrapping his arms around you.

“i think it’s me who’s honored to go out with you,” he mumbles. you hug him back, nuzzling into him. 

“we still need to head home, though,” he pulls away, “i want to take a shower.”

“want me to join you?” you laugh when you see his scandalized expression.

“you’re so shameless!” he bites back a laugh, hiding his face behind his hands.

“oh, please, like we haven’t showered together before.” you playfully scrunch your nose. 

he clicks his tongue, “as tempting as it sounds, i really would like to go eat early today.”

you fondly roll your eyes, tugging him towards your apartment. “fine.”

“but i’m not opposed to taking a shower with you when we get back.” he bites back a smile when you smack his shoulder.

the walk home is filled with laughter, teasing smiles on both of your faces. and, for once, you’re glad to have an opinion of sae.

(especially because it’s based on the version of your sae, and not the one everyone else thinks he is.)

[c4ttheart]

okkotsu yuta x gn!reader, 1.7k wc.

based on prompt ; "you’re in love with me." "you just found out ?"

reader is kinda weird tbh, i would not fw them, yuta is so awkward and in love, i love him, weird dynamic idk, confession but not really. maki is ooc. written for @daosies !

it’s not often students at jujutsu tech get to have a day off. you think it’s abnormal, to overwork teenagers even if it is for the greater good. so when you do find yourself free from the shackles of the overwhelming school, you do not hesitate to leave and explore Tokyo. unfortunately for yuta, that means he has to come with you.

unfortunate is a bit of a stretch, but he likes to tell himself that his personality is not completely attached to yours and he doesn’t like following you wherever you go. it’s alright though, that’s what best friends are for. (at least, he thinks so- he doesn’t really know, it’s been a long time since he had a best friend.)

you don’t even have to ask for him to come with you. he just does. he knows you guys do not have anything tomorrow, so when you scroll aimlessly on your phone and say "oh hey, it’s sales season." he just smiles from his end of the common room couch and looks at the itinerary. "okay" he whispers back, and you smile too. you do not worry about anything, because yuta probably already has everything planned, except your budget. you’ll think about that later. you like to ponder on the possibilities only when they’re right in front of you.

one thing you hate about the school is how far it is from civilisation. the train is agonisingly long, and the nearest train station is so far away you fear you do not feel your feet anymore. it’s alright though, the excursion is worth it and yuta carries your bags because otherwise you’ll complain about how sore your arms feel. he thinks you’re lucky, he has collected an increasing amount of physical strength due to maki’s training. if your muscles are weak, although he does not mean it in a bad way, that means you have not gone through the torture he was put through.

he likes you, so so much. and his heart throbs whenever you smile and take pictures with him, because all of this feels like something he could get used to. it feels like he could live this way forever and forget about the truth of the world he lives in. you’re happy, he notes, because if you weren’t, then the negativity of the people around him would be noticeable. but it isn’t, because you have a way to make all bad things disappear. and if you’re happy, that means you’re enjoying yourself. with him. and that is enough to make him happy too.

"yuta, crepes." you mutter as you point to whatever has your attention. he does not respond, he just follows, with that giddy smile on his face as if he had just gotten engaged. and it doesn’t matter if, for whatever reason, he disliked banana before, because now as you savour your crepe and offer it to him so he can take a bite, he thinks that nothing has ever tasted more wonderful than this.

(it takes everything in him not to turn beet red at the fact the two of you just shared an indirect kiss.)

it’s late when you return to campus. you’re tired, and exhausted, and you don’t think your feet (and wallet) have ever hurt this much. you say goodbye to yuta with a small wave and he smiles, his cheeks still slightly dusted pink from the fact that your hand brushed his when you took your bags back.

maki is sprawled out on your bed when you arrive. she does that often, claiming the connection is better in your room than hers. you know she likes your presence though, not toge’s, not panda’s, not yuta’s (and definitely not gojo’s), yours. you don’t understand why, unless she appreciates the silence and indifference you give to her. she’s your friend, of course, but that is just the way you are with everyone. except for yuta. you do try and keep the conversation going with him a little more than usual, but that’s different, because he’s your best friend.

yuta is your best friend because he does not complain. you like that about him, how he understands you without much words. you like how he knows what you like and complies. you like how he does not prod, and how he speaks for you to the cashiers. maybe you sound like a dictator, according to maki, but yuta does not seem miserable, so you don’t say anything.

"how was your date with that slave of yours ?" she asks, shutting her phone off to look at you. you frown.

"get off my bed. i sleep there. your clothes are dirty." you reply, organising the stuff you brought. it cannot wait until later, because if it does, you will simply not do it.

she shrugs, although a ghost of a smile is present on her face. you did not push her off this time, and that much is enough.

"you seem less cranky than usual. oh, i know-"

"i’m not usually cranky." you speak as you glance to her again. she’s sitting criss crossed, and although she is still on your bed, the covers are pulled up. you supposed that’s alright.

"yes, yes you are." you roll your eyes at her statement. you will not deny her her delusions, everyone is allowed to dream. "did he finally confess his undying love to you ?" she half snorts, and you already know she is ready to text toge your answer, considering how she pulled her phone back out.

you shake your head slightly, indicating her that no, he did not do whatever she thought he would, because that’s absurd. because, "we’re best friends." you answer.

maki frowns. "but he likes you."

oh. you think, what ? okay. you hum, okay.

the green haired girl leaves your room with a smile on her face and when you touch your cheeks you realise that they are hot. oh.

and you notice that you cannot stop thinking about him now. and whenever you do, your chest tightens. oh.

maybe, you think, you do like yuta too.

oh.

the next few days are quiet. you do not speak. oh, oh, and oh’s are all that you let out. suddenly, you are hyper aware of everything. everything yuta does. everything yuta says. everything yuta wears. and oh, you do not like that. you liked caring about nothing other than yourself. maybe, if you let him go, then everything will go back to the way it was. that sounds good, right ? but then again, you do not want to let him go. what will happen to yuta if he also stops to care about you ?

that does not matter right now. you will face the consequences later. you always do. and so you become quieter, if that is even possible. but yuta has always been an exception. yuta will always be an exception, and that worries you because you find yourself humming and nodding to whatever he says instead of just saying ‘oh’.

even though you do not have a plan to follow, you know that this is not a part of it. so you stop smiling to him. and then you stop nodding. then, finally, you stop humming too. and somewhere in between you forget to say ‘oh’. you forget to answer at all.

"(name)," he says, one breezy afternoon. you turn to look at him, but you do not hum.

he sits down besides you, on the cool stone stairs leading to the field. he shivers slightly, and you look back ahead. he watches you with that type of longing. you are not looking at him. you are looking at the horizon. something bigger. something unattainable. he repeats your name slowly, until your gaze is fixated on him again. he feels safer this way. he feels seen. this is all yuta has ever wanted, so he smiles.

"what’s wrong ?" he asks, tentatively.

you stare at him some more. nothing beneath those colourful eyes of yours. you like it when he cares about you, so you have to suppress a smile. "you’ve been avoiding me." yuta adds. "oh." you answer.

he lets out an awkward laugh, and when his eyes scan your face again before meeting yours you understand he’s asking why. it’s odd, to know you can read him too without words. oh, you think. you blink.

"you’re in love with me." you state. he blinks too, although incredibly faster, and you swear you’ve never seen him this red, as he tries to hide his face between his hands.

someone snorts very loudly from behind, and you cradle your neck to be able to see who it is. "you just found out?" panda hollers, gasping for air in between laughs. you should have known yuta would have not come alone. he is too scared of confrontation to talk to you himself. he buries his face even deeper in between his palms, wishing for nothing more than to carve his eyes out because if he doesn’t he might start crying.

panda runs away, still wheezing, as he exclaims something along the lines of having to tell toge. you shrug. yuta sniffs.

"i-i’m sorry. i understand if you never want to see me again, i should’ve known that-" yuta’s rambling is cut short when you lower his hand back down to the cement to place your own over his. he sniffles some more.

your heart aches, and you think oh, you do not like to see yuta cry. specifically not because of you. and you know that you should not be doing this because it is not what was supposed to happen but it’s okay, because there was no plan to begin with. after all, you like to ponder on the possibilities only when they’re right in front of you.

you smile at him, tentatively, before entwining your pinky with his. "it’s alright. stay."

and this time, yuta is the one to think oh, because he understands what you mean. maybe he does not understand why, but he shall ask you (or not) another time. for now, he lets the wind dry his tears and your head lay stiff on his shoulder. he wants to laugh at your awkwardness, but he decides against it. it is not his place to laugh. so he intertwines your fingers with his, and smiles back.

[rainee-da]

🍀 Your First "I Love You" [2]

CHARACTER �� Delisaster 🍾 / Domina Blowelive 💧 / Cell War 💎

W A R N I N G ⚠️ PG-13 fluff with hurt/comfort on some / BIG SPOILER!!!! / might be too OOC for you.

D E L I S A S T E R 🪞

He was simply lounging around, stuffing himself with booze (rip that liver) when you suddenly come into the room.

At first, he didn't pay any mind to it. He gave you one of his toothy smiles as he leaned back on the chair lazily, waving a bottle of booze to your face, saying "Eyy sup', want some?"

When you finally say the magic word, he suddenly goes blank.

Not like a 'mind-blank' type of blank, but his face suddenly goes blank. All the shine in his eyes, his smiles, vanish into the void.

Honestly, this will make you feel afraid. Did you anger him? Did he not feel the same?

He suddenly picked up his phone and made a call to someone with a low whispering tone, too low for you to hear anything, and walked away. Leaving you alone with your thoughts.

But before you could think of any worst-case scenarios, a bunch of his goons suddenly barge into the room bringing... party popper???

Delisaster finally comes back being brought in by his goons... on a sedan chair???

At least, you're now relieved because he's now giving you a wide smile. A bit too wide. Scrap that- now you're creeped out.

Before you could ask about what the hell was going on, all of his goons popped the party popper, and a bunch of pink-shaded confetti flew across the room. Good luck seeing anything at all.

As soon as you're able to scrap off any of the confetti that is stuck on your face, you've now realized that the confetti is shaped into a heart. Kinda cute tbh.

And out of nowhere, he's already in front of you. Smiling wide, hugging you tight, laughing maniacally.

"YAHOOOOOOOO YOU SAID THE MAGIC WOOOO-" rip your ears.

All of the goons that surround you are now crying for some damn reason, passing a box of tissues around. Is this a wedding? a funeral??

Finally calming down, Delisaster finally leans back to take a look at your face. Now you can see that his smile is so gentle and he's looking at you oh so fondly.

He's caressing your face as if you're made of glass, and this is the most gentle and affectionate you've ever seen him. Usually, he's a menace to society

"I know I never really made you feel easy around me, especially with my reputation and all... not even my brothers can stand me... I don't even know if I deserve you," his voice breaks slightly as he leans closer your ear, "But you made me the happiest man, and I can never thank you enough for that... I love you too, baby."

... That would be so romantic if only the goons around you aren't screaming an ugly-ass cry, with the sound of snots being sniffed as ambience.

D O M I N A B L O W E L I V E 💧

He chokes on his apple juice, almost snorting liquid through his nose when you suddenly come up to him and say those.

"W-what do you mean??" he stammers with his face now as vibrant as his hair, eyes shaky as they darted around to avoid your gaze. "Do... do you even understand what you're saying? how serious that word is??"

Man is so melodramatic, but you can't blame him. All his life he believes that any form of endearment given to someone means that there is any ulterior motives behind it and things such as 'pure love' is just a thing from a fantasy book.

You are fully aware of his upbringing, so you wouldn't be surprised if he didn't believe you right away.

What you didn't expect though is for him to go into full-teacher mode and info-dumping you about the definition of love.

He deadass mansplaining 'Love' to you by citing sources from dictionaries, biology, and psychology studies.

He's so academically smart and his brain is like a walking dictionary but he's misusing it in such a weird way.

After he's done with his rant explanation that who knows how long it is, he'll avert his gaze from yours. He's panting slightly as he broke in with his question, "Now that you understand, next time don't say those words so easily to someone," he huffed slightly and crossed his arms, "It's not like I've ever done anything to you that warrants something such as that, you know."

Okay, now that understandably pissed you off. So it's now your turn to go on full-tangent on why you love him, what you love about him, how you didn't need him to do anything for you to love him, and about how his view of love is full of shit.

And now it's his turn to be bewildered. Your outburst has effectively overwhelming his heart with warmness that he never felt before in his life.

By the time you're done his face that is previously tinted pink now goes scarlet red. His mouth is agape and shaking slightly like a fish in the open air, and all of the retort he intended to throw is stuck in his throat.

Domina_Blowelive.exe stopped working lol.

"Whatever! You're stupid anyway," is the only counter he could throw back at you, and Gods he hate how weak that ended up coming out from his mouth.

Before you could say anything back to him he already turned his back and stomped away from you, huffing and mumbling profanities.

He's so embarassed that he didn't pay any attention to his path and ended up turning left a bit too early, and slamming his head onto the wall.

If Levis and the gang are around to see that, they'll not be alive for long lol.

You're the only one who could make the top students of the prestigious magic school Walkis Academy turn into a cuckoo mess. Congratulations!

It will take you a while for him to finally believe and accept your feelings. Even so, you didn't need him to say anything to know that he feels the same way.

His journey to recovery is still long ahead, he needs more time to unpack those childhood trauma that led him to become the person that he was. But I swear it will be worth it.

Please be patient with him ♥

C E L L W A R 💎

"What do you want now?" he said as he stared at you with an exhausted look on his face, checking you out to figure out your intention based on body language alone.

Because that's the only reason for his whole existence in this world, right? to give and to serve?

You repeated your confession, and now he stares at you dumbfounded. He narrowed his eyes and exhaled in frustration as he ruffled your hair slightly.

"Don't say such a useless thing next time. It's a burden."

Yeouwch that comes out wrong doesn't it?

Even though what he means by that is that it is useless for YOU to love HIM, and it will only burden YOU to love HIM.

But what do you expect? he survives his whole life in the attendance of Innocent Zero's deranged family by belittling himself down, doing all the nuisance and humiliating tasks to stroke Innocent Zero's children's ego. what a bunch of manchild.

Being negative and blunt comes as a second nature to him.

But then again, now you're hurt. What makes it worse is that before you can ask him to clarify what he means he's already out of sight, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

He realizes that you seem like you're about to cry before he goes, and he can feel his heart ache to see you making that expression. Then again, what he said is not exactly wrong, right?

He's only realized what he did when Delisaster waltzing to him out of nowhere, whistling towards him and teasing him about "being so cold to your booboo."

He can feel his soul draining out of his body as he listens to Delisaster's explanation that is filled with a bunch of degrading mockery because let me remind you again he's a menace.

Delisaster finally saunters off somewhere else. Cell takes this short amount of time to his advantage and goes hell-bent on finding you.

The maid and butler that come past him are confused because they never see Cell that mortified.

Upon finding you, he wastes no time and lunges towards you on instinct, effectively tackling you to the ground as if he's a bounty hunter. But he made sure to hug your head before it slammed to the ground, burying it in his chest.

His mind goes blank at the sudden closeness and now he has no games. Honestly, he didn't know what to say either even if his mind did not go blank. Man really had no games.

But he still tries his best, like he always does. He leans back slightly while still pining you down, staring at you with eyes wavering, a mixture of anxiousness and affection.

"I... just realized I worded it wrongly before..." he stated hesitantly as a start as he proceeded to explain his thought process, "Honestly, I don't know if I should even be indulging in these feelings... I have my master to serve, and I'm afraid you will get hurt if he finds out."

His mouth clumsily formed into a thin smile, his hand reaches towards your hair, twirling it on his finger and taking a mental note of how soft it was, "But, to answer yours... I feel the same, and always has been."

The smile that grows on your face makes his world stop for a moment. Stunning him into silence as he stares into your eyes that is full of life and affection. His mind then wanders, imagining things that a tool like him should have no right to dream of.

'Wouldn't it be so nice... if I could live a normal life with you?'

This is the continuation of this headcanon! I initially intended for this to be included in the previous post but alas; I hit a roadblock lolol-

I've been thinking back and forth between adding Cell War or not. But I didn't care what anyone say; Cell War is part of the family too! I want to make hcs this angsty boi so much

I'll be ending this prompt right here and move on to the next one I had in mind (I'm currently in Mash's brother hyper-fixation phases and will be writing tons of them in the future lol). If you want me to write for other character feel free to request one as long as the ask is open!

Thank you for reading!🍀

[oepionie]

KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR & THE UNWILLING DAMSEL IN DISTRESS. silver vanrouge

"And you don’t have to say anything now, of course, I just thought I owed you an explanation as to why i acted the way i did…”

Synopsis: Dragged into another one of Azul's contracts, you're forced to go on a date with some doe-eyed prince named Phillip and it seems that Silver has offered to serve as your bodyguard.

Character/s: Silver Vanrouge x GN! Reader

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Reader wears Heels&Dress, Silver cries, Bodyguard! Silver, Prince Phillip, Hidden feelings, Confessions, Im just thirsting for Silver here tbh

Word Count: 1k+ | 🎸Event Masterlist

Nervously taking a sip of your drink, you smoothed out the wrinkles on your dress and attempted to act normal. Well, as normal as someone in your situation could be. After getting dragged into a contract by the one and only Azul Ashengrotto, you were made to meet up with a client of his.

The octopus needed valuable information from him and told you to "use your charms" on the boy.

Whatever that means...

Sighing, you glance over at the shadowy figure sitting a few tables away from you.

Azul was suprisingly generous enough to grant you some protection. Protection which came in the form of a bodyguard named Silver Vanrouge.

Now, he was hardly the worst person in the campus but after your argument with him a few days back, things were still a bit...tense.

Obscured by the curtain drapes and dimmed lights of the lounge, you could barely make out Silver's sharp auroral gaze piercing through you. In all honesty, you were taken aback by just how well-hidden he was. For someone with his stature, he sure was remarkably stealthy.

Silver was casually leaning back against the plush couch, legs spread with his leather-clad hands clasped between his thighs. Instead of his usual outfit, he was dressed in a silky light green button-down shirt.

His legs donned black high-waisted slacks which was held up by a leather belt. Azul had given him the outfit to serve as a "uniform" of sorts. In addition to that, he carried his magic pen and sword, both of which were sheathed at his left hip.

Before you could continue ogling at your "bodyguard", a hand waves itself over your face. Blinking, you look up to see a bright-eyed brunette beaming down on you. The boy was slim but fairly built. He had on a grayish-tan vest over a black turtleneck shirt, dark brown pants, and black boots. Most notable was the red cape draped onto his shoulder, the vibrant crimson an odd contrast to his otherwise muted outfit.

"Hello there, are you the prefect?" The stranger smiled at you, revealing two dimples on the sides of his cheek. Stammering, you hastily scrambled to your feet.

"A-Ah, yes! That w-would be me. I'm assuming you're Philip?" A wobbly smile spread across your face as you held your hand out for him to shake. The boy chuckled and took your hand in his, swiftly pressing a kiss against your knuckles. "Yeah, I'm Philip. Well...Prince Philip."

"P-Prince?!" You squawked, eyes wide open. Just who did Azul set you up with?

"Ah, it's no big deal. I'm not too big on any of that royal stuff." The young prince winked, throwing an arm over your shoulders and pulling you close.

"Now, shall we carry on with our date?"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Great Sevens. When was this going to end?

While initially charming, you soon found out that your date had no respect for your boundaries whatsoever. Prince Philip was extremely touchy. If him being pressed up snug against your side at this very moment wasn't enough proof of that.

"You know, I think I've actually met you before." Philip mused, tapping his fingers against your waist. "In a dream that is. Ah, which reminds me! Do you dance?"

"I trip over my feet all the time. So no, I don't." You chuckled awkwardly, twiddling with your thumbs. Philip snorted and stood, pulling you up with him. "Oh, but you must try it! Come, let's-"

"Philip, I'd really rather not." You frowned and tried to pull his hands off of you, but the prince refused to budge. His grip tightened and you whimpered. "Aw, it's just one little dance-"

"I believe they said no." Before Phillip could continue, Silver appeared and swiftly yanked the boy's hands off of you.

He guided you behind him, shielding you from the young prince with his body. "I think you've overstayed your visit. Come, I’ll guide you to the exit."

You watched helplessly as your bodyguard dragged the prince out of the lounge, ignoring each and everyone of Philip's protests.

Well...there goes your date.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I can't believe you did that, Silver." You grumbled.

You sat on the pavement, pulling your tall heels off and massaging your feet. The back of your ankle swelled red, evidence of all the hours you spent in this fancy get-up. Hours of hard work wasted and ruined in a single minute. "You didn't have to kick him out! I nearly got him to spill the secret!" 

"He clearly couldn't understand what a simple 'no' meant." Silver murmured. The look he sends you is one of concern, and probably disappointment, as he strides to your hunched over form. 

Silver placed his hand onto your back, but you pushed him away, far too disheartened to accept his aid. His eyes flashed hurt for a brief moment before he regained his composure, brows pinching together. "I was trying to help."

"Well, you weren't! I'm not some damsel in distress." You scoffed, slipping your heels back on. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"If that's the case then why didn't you tell him to stop?" He spoke, voice cracking. When you didn't respond, Silver stared at you with a wounded look in his eyes. "Do you like him?"

"Enough, Silver!" The back of your head throbbed and your eyes burned, the frustration from earlier finally sinking in. Throughout the entire night, you were left to deal with both Philip's advances and Silver's icy demeanor. It wasn't surprising to say that you were at your wit's end. 

You rose from the pavement, dusting your dress off before walking in the direction of your dorm. Silver blinks at you and swallows painfully as something shifts in his features. "Where are you going?"

"The night's over. You don't have to play bodyguard anymore. I'm leaving."

"Don't." You snapped your head around, fully prepared to start arguing once more, only to end up clamping your mouth shut when you saw his eyes glistening with tears. Silver ran a hand down his face, fingers roughly rubbing at his eyelids. "…. I'm sorry. Please don't."

"Silver...I got frustrated. I-I didn't mean..." you whispered, cupping his cheeks in a delicate touch - afraid that he might crack were you harsher with him.

"You don’t have to say anything...I-I just think I owe you an explanation as to why I acted the way I did." His hands cupped atop yours, squeezing tight.

"I know I do get overprotective at times, but I mean no harm. I just..." Silver trails off as he hesitated, which coaxed you to look up and meet his gaze.

"....I love you." He gently took you in his arms and wrapped you in a tight embrace, sighing deeply as he felt the welcome weight of your body against his. "I really love you."

Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!

Taglist: @keedas @spadecentral @crypticbibliophile @pastellepastary @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisoniousheart @anonima-2 @kawaiipotatoghost

↳ want to be added?

[shybunnie20]

Eddie Munson x Alt!Fem!Reader

★Teaser ★My Masterlist

Summary: Eddie seeks Steve's assistance in wooing you, but it doesn’t go the way he planned.

Author's Note: This was so fun to write! I don’t think it turned out particularly angsty tbh. There's a little bit of Halloween in it, 'tis the season.

Proofread to an extent. 90s AU with no Upside Down. No use of Y/N. Reader is vaguely depicted: wears black, has tattoos and piercings (no amount or locations indicated for either), enjoys spooky movies, and likes metal music. Happy ending!

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: brief mention of alcohol consumption, includes more swearing than usual

The sun hangs low, blowing kisses of dusk through the streaky panes of Family Video. Inside the store, the sporadic popping of kernels sets the tone for the evening shift.

When it comes to this job, unboxing shipments of snacks is the one task that manages to hold Eddie’s fleeting attention, simply because it gives him an excuse to wield a box cutter. Alas, today is not one where a shipment has been delivered. He’s more or less getting paid to hang out and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Leaning beside the register, Eddie lazily flips through a dated issue of Rolling Stone magazine. He’s not even reading the articles, just skimming the pictures.

In the documentary section, Steve is busy restocking the shelves. “I heard Keith’s giving out a plaque for 'Least Productive Employee' this year. If ya ask me, I think you’ve got Robin beat.”

“That’s debatable,” Eddie licks the pad of his finger and flips the page. “You’ve got it handled, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but there’s plenty of stuff that needs to get done before we get slammed tonight.”

“I’m doing my part,” Eddie raises his head and a smirk slowly overtakes his bored expression. “Someone’s gotta keep the front counter company. It gets lonely.”

“Aw, how touching. Of all things, you’ve found true love with a piece of furniture,” Steve scoops up the bucket of go-backs and sidesteps to the neighboring genre. “That’s gotta be the closest thing you’ve ever had to a relationship.”

Burn, but an accurate one. Eddie isn’t a Casanova but there’s nothing wrong with that, not at all. He’s got his hobbies and friends, what point is there in trying to convince the town that he’s up for a little romance? Besides, the absence of encounters means that flirting isn’t in his wheelhouse.

Eddie looks down at the face of his Casio, reading that it’s nearing seven o’clock. “Hey, do we still have a copy of Beetlejuice around?”

“I doubt it. All of the spooky shit has been going like hotcakes since Halloween is right around the corner.”

As customers trickle through the door, Eddie shifts to the computer system and types hurriedly on the keyboard. “Fuck, it’s gotta be here,” He abandons the register and searches the store.

Steve opens a case and snaps it closed, entirely oblivious to the commotion until Eddie whizzes by in his peripheral vision. “Okay, this is a whole new level of obnoxious,” Steve huffs. “Why are you so hell-bent on finding that specific movie?”

“Because she’s probably gonna wanna rent it, and if we don’t have it…” Eddie trails off as he flies by on the other side of the store.

“Cool your jets, turbo,” Steve notices that more people are coming into the store so he waves Eddie over. The last thing they need is a lawsuit because an old lady got plowed down. “Seriously, what gives?”

Wheezing at the end of the aisle, Eddie hunches over and bows his head. He grips his knees for dear life while he tries to catch his breath. “There’s this girl.”

Steve’s feathered brows mirror the nosey tone of his voice. “Who is it? Do I know her?”

“I doubt it,” Eddie coughs. “But she stops in every Friday night.”

“News flash, butthead. It’s the busiest day of the week, that’s not exactly narrowing it down,” Steve feels a creeping presence over his shoulder. Speaking of old ladies; he peeks, just to find an elderly woman encroaching on his personal space to view the titles that he’s blocking. “Sorry,” he says halfheartedly before directing his coworker toward the register with a toss of his head. “Is it Tara P.?”

“Nope,” Eddie follows and plops on the stool furthest from the computer. “She wears a lot of black, has tattoos, piercings-”

Steve shakes his index finger. “Okay, yeah, I know who you’re talking about now. She’s always dressed for a funeral,” He snorts.

“I know, isn’t it hot?” Eddie sighs dreamily while he tugs at his green coil key ring, stretching it as far as it’ll go.

“I mean, if you’re into that kinda thing,” Steve shudders dramatically. “Gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

“I’m definitely into that,” Eddie gnaws on the soft pink flesh of his lips as he pauses. “There’s this aura around her, y’know? Not just her looks either, it’s her energy too.”

“Dark and brooding, huh? That’s what gets ya going?” Steve switches to his customer service voice as he checks out the elderly woman with minimal back and forth.

“Yeah, whenever she’s around my hands get all sweaty,” Eddie looks down at his large palms that are growing slick from discussing you. “She hangs out at the bar where I play. God, just seeing her makes my heart sing.”

He loses himself in thinking about seeing you at Wraith. You’re the only one that he strives to impress but he has yet to. You dance to other bands but not Eddie’s. Sometimes you nod your head to the beat, though it’s never enough for you to acknowledge his existence.

“Pass me a barf bag,” Steve gags. “Makes your heart sing?”

“Whatever, dude. It’s not like you’re gettin’ any action with your Harrington charm.”

“Excuse you,” Steve looks at Eddie pointedly. “I almost got that girl’s number on Monday, thank you very much. She was totally digging me.”

“Was she, though? ‘Cause she left without giving you her digits,” Eddie chuckles mockingly and tilts his head. “How many more times do you have to strike out before you finally throw in the towel?”

“That’s rich coming from the guy who canoodles furniture,” Steve scoffs. “Don’t come for my manhood. At least I have the balls to make a move.”

“So many moves, and yet, so few takers!” Eddie throws his head back and laughs boisterously.

“Put a sock in it,” Steve groans.

Speak of the devil. Eddie spots you walking into the store, just as you always do at this time. “Oh god,” He gulps and his joints lock, freezing time and space simultaneously. His mouth is slightly agape as the world comes to a standstill. His vision narrows to a tunnel, rendering him deaf and mute.

Steve snaps his fingers in front of Eddie’s face. “Jesus, man. Try to act somewhat normal,” he rolls his eyes. “If you even know how.”

Eddie does not know how especially not after being literally snapped out of his trance. His palms are clammy, his breathing is rigid, and he’s dizzy as all hell. “Look at her,” He whispers. Christ, you look so fucking pretty today.

“Are you trying to catch flies, dude?”

“No,” Eddie scowls, promptly tightening his lax jaw. “Fuck off.”

Steve takes notice of your figure moving down the aisle and turning in their direction. “Duun dun,” he begins to imitate the Jaws shark theme. “Duuun dun,” As you approach from the other end of the store, Steve gets progressively louder. “Dun dun dun dun dun-”

“Quit!” Eddie barks through gritted teeth and kicks Steve’s calf. “Don’t be an ass.”

“Ow, that was uncalled for,” Steve bends over to rub his leg in an attempt to soothe the ache. 

“Jesus Christ! She’s coming over here,” Eddie paces in the cramped area, nearly colliding with Steve when he pivots. “What the fuck do I do? I don’t know how to be Mr. Cool Guy.”

With your chosen film in hand, you are in fact approaching the register. Steve’s voice becomes discernible as you get nearer. “...if you keep acting like such a wuss. Grow a pair and just-”

“Shut up! Shut it,” Eddie makes it appear as though he’s doing something productive to the snack display, but he’s really just shifting the packets of Skittles around.

“Just this,” you confirm by setting down the tape and digging into your purse. The atmosphere feels tense, to say the least. You’ve clearly interrupted something. It’s plain to see on the other employee’s tomato-red face.

Steve offers a straight-lipped smile and scans your membership card. “Find everything alright?”

You hum in response. While he carries on with the transaction, you notice how peculiarly still the other guy is. “Hello,” you greet him softly, hoping to ease the atmosphere.

Eddie’s hands come to a halt and he looks up at you with wide eyes. “Heh,” He meant to say “hey” but only the first letter made it out alive. As you pay for your purchase, his mouth is still moving and he doesn’t know why. “That’s a good one,” he gestures to the movie.

You startle inwardly, not having anticipated an actual conversation to start. He seems nice enough. “You’re a fan of scary movies too, I take it?”

Eddie nods timidly. He flexes his fingers to combat the overwhelming numbness that’s plaguing his hands. His heart is beating so goddamn hard that it’s on the verge of bursting through his chest and landing wetly at his feet. “Yeah, I like them. They’re good. Really good.”

“Agreed,” While you tuck your wallet away, a polite smile rests on your face. “I was actually in the mood for Beetlejuice but it doesn’t look like you have it,” Your smile falls ever so slightly.

The sight causes Eddie’s pounding heart to twist and plummet to his ass. He’d give you every copy on the planet if he could.

Steve listens in over the sound of your receipt printing. His brows arch in genuine surprise that Eddie knew you’d want that movie tonight. Creepy, but impressive nonetheless. “Sorry about that,” Steve tears the paper from the machine and hands it to you. “Maybe next time.”

“Maybe,” you nod, accept the receipt, and pick up the tape. “Have a good night,” you say to both of them and head out.

Once you’re through the doors, Eddie clutches Steve’s forearm to ground himself in reality.

“Ugh!” Steve yanks his arm away to escape the muggy grasp. “That’s gnarly, man.” 

“Do you believe me now?” Eddie wipes his sopping palms on his jeans.

“Oh, I believe you, especially after witnessing that. I’m pretty sure Henderson has more game than you.”

Eddie returns to the stool with a plop. “Just kill me already,” he rubs his face, sighing. “Put me out of my fucking misery.”

“Don't threaten me with a good time,” Steve laughs to himself. “Anyway, back to Little Miss Dead Inside. What’ve you tried?”

“Nothing,” Eddie drops his hands and slouches in defeat. “I don’t think she even knows my name.”

“You gotta give her a reason to,” Steve continues conversing from over his shoulder while he checks out another customer. “What about notes? Y’know, old-fashioned love notes.”

Eddie scrunches his nose. “I dunno about that.”

“It’s right up your alley, Shakespeare. Besides, the ladies love melodramatic shit like that.”

Eddie suddenly perks up. “Wait, I could be totally anonymous! She could figure it out on her own. That way she comes to me and I don’t even have to approach her.” 

“That’s not what I said at all.”

“This could totally work,” Eddie motions to Steve’s head. “Who woulda thought there’s a few marbles rollin’ around in there.”

“Ha-ha,” Steve continues to slowly but surely shorten the line. “Don’t think I’m helping you.”

“The hell you aren’t,” Eddie hops up on the counter beside the register. He swings his legs with newfound optimism and tears open a package of red vines. “You’re obligated to help since it’s your idea.”

“I absolutely am not, and I have no interest in being inadvertently bitten by some vampire chick. Leave me out of it.”

“C’mon, I’ll owe you big time,” Eddie begs with his mouth full of waxy candy.

“You have to clean the restroom for two weeks,” Steve declares with a smirk.

“No fucking shot,” Eddie points with a half-bitten licorice rope. “Pick something else.”

“Do you want help or not?”

Eddie did indeed want help, so he agreed to the bullshit terms and conditions. He can scrub a toilet, no problemo. Honestly, he’d polish a hundred of them with a toothbrush if that meant you’d step into his life. You’re worth cleaning toilets for.

After closing up shop for the night, Eddie sits at his desk in his bedroom until the early hours. He writes draft after draft, struggling to find words that are forward and inviting without coming on too strong right off the bat.

Upon your arrival the following week, Eddie is shaking like a leaf. He listens to your interaction with Steve while being partially concealed behind a tall cardboard cut-out. Despite not being able to see you, he can see your lips forming the words in his mind. Your voice alone is making him weak in the knees. Eddie’s certain that if you don’t hightail it out of here soon, they’ll buckle and his cover will be blown.

Once he’s certain you’ve left, Eddie releases the breath he’s been holding since you walked in. “How’d it go? She didn’t see you put the note in there, right?”

“Why are you even asking? You eavesdropped the whole time. Yeah, it went fine, she didn’t notice.” Steve grumbles.

“Okay, cool,” Eddie chews on his thumbnail. “Shit, what if she thinks it’s creepy? What if she thinks it’s the lamest thing ever? Fuck, what if-”

“Dude,” Steve closes his eyes and holds his hands out. “You’ve gotta stop.”

In the comfort of your home, you plop down in front of the VCR and open the case that holds the reels of this evening’s entertainment; a movie you’ve rented a few times before, but not enough that you could quote it. Instead of a hard plastic shell, your fingertips find wrinkled notebook paper. Your brows furrow as you inspect it, shredded pieces dangling from where it was yanked from the spiral binding.

You unfold it three times. 

In the aisles of the video store, I've found a treasure unsurpassed. Not on the shelves, but in your eyes, I fell so fast.

It’s a prank, whatever the fuck this is. 

Never in your life have you ever thought about Steve, like, at all. You’re aware of his reputation, that he apparently has the tendency to be douchey and arrogant. But the more you think about it, he’s nothing like that when you interact at Family Video. Maybe he’s not that judgmental and he sees past your midnight exterior. This note is stupidly genuine and endearing. Who would’ve thought he had it in him? Certainly not you.

That’s the thing, though. Steve isn’t your type and you’re certainly not his. But you can’t recall a time when he’s ever looked at you like you’re some kind of freak. Most guys do, that’s something you’ve grown used to over the years and learned to ignore. This poem basks him in a new light, and you’re not quite sure how to process it.

Like clockwork, you’re back again but this time your chest is thrumming. The note could’ve been a fluke or maybe it was meant for someone else, you’re not entirely sure. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to be the intended recipient. Right now, it would be ideal to appear composed but you’re already wearing an unusual expression—a pleasant one—while you make your way to the drama section.

Tonight, it’s Robin and Eddie holding down the fort. As your combat boots scuff across the forest-colored carpet, Eddie can feel your arrival in his bones. He’s immediately seeking you out and when he locates you, he just about faints. Admiring from afar while manning the register, his mind races. Kissing is what’s on the curiosity menu tonight. Eddie wonders what flavor of toothpaste you prefer. If he could just get a little taste…

You meander your way around the shelving and through the dotting of customers. Eddie snaps his head in the opposite direction to avoid being caught staring. The sudden motion causes a pinch in his neck and he winces.

Lost in his own little world for a minute or two, Eddie’s attention is violently brought forward when you place a tape down in front of him. He buffers, noticing how you look subtly disappointed all of a sudden. He can’t imagine why, but he hates it with every cell in his body. Eddie fails to greet you and instead, he stares at your wine-painted fingernails as they tap the surface of the case.

“Is he not here?” You glance around with a lack of determination.

“Steve? Er, no. He called in sick,” He clears his throat harshly, all of the moisture drying up in his mouth by the millisecond.

“Oh, okay,” Over your other shoulder, you admire the new promotional display that was put out during the week.

Eddie seizes the opportunity to slip the second note into the case. His hands viscously tremble despite his best efforts to steady them. “Not to worry though, I can check you out way better than that walking hairdo,” Stop while you’re ahead, man. “Ring you up, I mean. I can ring you up better… than him.” Jesus fucking Christ.

“You’ve got quite the mane yourself,” A smile blooms as you look into the chocolate pools he has for irises. “I like your curls,” You can’t help but softly giggle at how bug-eyed he goes at your compliment.

“Uh, thanks,” Eddie bites back the cheek-splitter of a smile threatening to form. His trembling hands tingle unbearably from being able to make you laugh, despite not knowing what he did to earn it. He grabs a packet of M&Ms from the rack and slides it across the counter to you. “Here, free of charge.”

Your tightly sewn brow is accompanied by a slight pout. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Nonsense,” Eddie insists. “Everything’s on the house.”

“Is this some loyalty reward thing you guys do now?”

“Right on the money,” Eddie winks.

“Sweet,” you chirp. It’s as though your spirit has been replenished by saving a few bucks. “Do I get one of those little punch cards? I love those things.”

With the way your eyes are shimmering over a stupid piece of paper; Eddie would build you a house made of punch cards if that’s what you wanted. “Yeah,” he searches aimlessly. “But, uh, we haven’t gotten them yet.”

Your gaze finds his name tag and then returns to his flushed face. The corner of your mouth quirks as you notice the faint freckles dotted across his cheeks and nose. “Okay, well, thank you, Eddie.”

“No need to thank me, I should be thanking you! You’re a valued customer,” he exclaims. “My favorite of them all!”

“If you say so,” you exhale with amusement and turn to leave. “See you around.”

Eddie holds his palm open as a farewell gesture until you’re out of sight. He then brings his hand directly to his forehead in a ruthless smack. “You’re my favorite customer,” He mocks himself in a nasally voice.

With the press of a button, the register drawer launches open with a thunk. He nonchalantly retrieves his wallet, plucks out a five-dollar bill, and tucks it under the stainless steel clip to pay for your “free” movie and candy. Eddie finds Robin staring at him with a knowing look on her face. “Not a fucking word, Buckley. Not a word,” he glares, to which she throws her hands up in defense.

You couldn’t possibly wait until you got home to see if there would be another note. As you hop into the driver's seat of your car in the parking lot, you find an identical piece of folded paper. Your heart pitter-patters with the assumption that Eddie is in on it and he did Steve the favor of delivering this one for him.

With your illuminating smile, Baby Ghoul, you're the moonlight in my darkest night.

This note takes you by surprise for a different reason. It feels far more personal to be bestowed with the cutest goddamn nickname you’ve ever been given; ghouls are so metal. You obsessively reread it through the duration of your movie, while you brush your teeth, and as you lay in bed. You’re swooning over each messily penned letter, memorizing the spots where the ink drags and smudges.

It’s a bit difficult to imagine Steve saying this to you, but your insides are lurching at the thought. You hold the note to your chest and squeal.

The following visits are heavenly. Eddie loves seeing you bounce around on the balls of your feet like you’re on cloud nine. It’s becoming damn near impossible to fight the urge to smile because he knows that you’re looking forward to his imminent written affection.

Note after note, confidence simmers in his belly from seeing how the expression of his feelings is affecting you. To know that he’s the reason you’re glowing like this is turning his brain to pudding. Not tapioca, though. Ew.

With wide puppy dog eyes and a glossy lower lip, you present your past-due rental to Steve. He sucks his teeth, crosses his arms, and scolds you playfully. You successfully get out of paying the fee by simply batting your lashes at him.

Steve is eating this shit up. While you might not be his flavor of choice, he’s suddenly feeling open to sampling the femme fatale vibe. You’re beautiful, he wouldn’t waste his breath denying that. Not to mention, you’ve got a great sense of humor, considering you’re laughing at his awful jokes. That’s something he will admit—they’re bad.

Eddie doesn’t have to hear the conversation to know what’s unfolding. He feels like he’s gonna hurl when Steve leans down to shorten the distance between the two of you. He's supposed to be the middleman, not stealing Eddie’s thunder. In hindsight, there haven’t been any hints at his identity and Eddie’s been too chicken shit to give them to you except for the other day when he had no choice.

To put it simply, he’s torn. Eddie wants to scream that he’s your admirer, that he’s the one who dreams of you, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He can’t possibly reveal that it isn’t dashing Harrington who’s pining for you, but instead, it’s the dork. That would be a world-crushing level of disappointment.

This deal turned out to be a massive ego boost for Steve. The conversation is easygoing and it quickly progresses past small talk. The best part is that you haven’t even mentioned the notes. You think he’s some poet when in reality, he doesn’t even have a clue of what they say. You’re smitten without him having to bend over backward to impress you. He’d be nuts not to take advantage of it.

During closing time, Eddie stomps around while collecting the flimsy trash bags full of receipts and candy wrappers. For the past hour, he’s been pondering ways to “take care” of Steve. Sadly, it would be tricky to avoid raising suspicion if he suddenly disappeared, but hey, a guy can dream.

After dishing the silent treatment all night, Eddie finally speaks up. “You think you’re pretty clever, huh?”

“What?” Steve briefly looks up from counting the cash drawer.

“Cut the crap. You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Eddie drags a clunky vacuum out of the cramped utility closet and unwraps the lengthy cord.

“It’s not that serious. Look, it’s not my fault that she’s into me.”

“Is all that hairspray finally soaking into your brain? She’s not into you,” Eddie growls, throwing the canary-colored cord to the carpet. “She likes the person who’s writing to her. Last I checked, that’s me.”

“Yeah, but she thinks it’s me,” Steve shrugs. “She’s happy, I’m happy. I don’t see a problem here.”

“The problem is that you know how I feel about her,” Eddie retorts while staring daggers. “The shit you’re pulling is really fucking unfair.”

“Life’s not fair, buddy. It’s not like you’re gonna do anything about it.”

“We’ll see about that,” Eddie mutters, clenching his jaw as he turns around to plug in the vacuum.

“Will we?” Steve snickers. “I don’t think I’ll live to see the day.”

It’s Saturday night and Eddie’s praying to every conceivable higher power that you’ll be here. You don’t come to Wraith every weekend, but when you do show, he’s nothing short of a nervous wreck.

He peeks out from behind the velvety black curtain of the concrete stage. Eddie’s heart stops when he finds you in your usual booth. You look hot, so so hot. It’s already hard enough to perform in front of you but when you look like this? Oh, brother.

Every year, you look forward to coming here on Halloween. Your friends have gone all out with their costumes and the hours you spent getting ready were well worth it. The typical dark and dingy ambiance is heightened by the plastic skulls and bones strung from the ceiling. Your drinks emit wisps of dry ice fog and each table has a bowl of candy.

Seated at the end of the booth, your eyes drift from your drink to the floor. There you find a pair of dirty white Reeboks. Your gaze travels up the lanky figure shrouded in navy coveralls.

Eddie twists his ring around the base of his finger and the glide is effortless, thanks to the premature perspiration. “Hey.”

“Uh, hi,” your expression reflects a mix of hesitance and confusion, though you maintain a kind demeanor. “Eddie, right?”

“Yeah,” She remembered my name. Eddie motions to your getup. “I like your costume. Elvira, right?”

While you may not be sporting a ceiling-high black wig, your costume is unmistakable. “Right on the money,” you flash a pert grin, quoting him from the other day. “And you’re a…”

“Supposed to be Michael Meyers,” he clarifies, pulling a plastic knife from his oversized back pocket. “The mask was too hot to wear so, I guess I’m a killer repairman?” Max’s borrowed mask was indeed suffocating.

“Or a plumber who secretly dreams of being a professional chef,” you shrug, your irises glistening with humor.

Okay, so far so good. Talking to himself in the mirror for an hour is really paying off because he’s not a bumbling idiot for once. He could be imagining things, but it looks like you’re leaning closer. Maybe you’re just trying to hear him better over the music. He shouldn’t be overanalyzing your body language but it's the only thing keeping him vertical.

Eddie wants to prove Steve wrong but most of all, he wants to tell you how incredible you are. He’s not sure that you’ll want to talk to him after this. You might be hurt when you realize that you’ve been misled and he’s not the one you want. There’s only one way to find out.

The sound of his band getting set up beckons him. “Show time,” Eddie shakes jazz hands with the toy knife still in his grip. Of course, he just had to make it weird.

While he’s playing through the usual set with Corroded Coffin, you don’t pay them any mind, per usual. Their final song is a new one. Eddie may lack the confidence to confess, but he’s gonna sing this with all of the moxy he’s got.

In this world of shadows, what else is there to do

Wanna explore life’s cemetery with you

Your haunting beauty tells no lie

The one thing I cannot defy

The familiarity of the lyrics floods your head. You look up and find his dark, gleaming eyes locked onto you. Your heart leaps in your throat as he repeats the verses. Eddie leaves no room for uncertainty, confirming that the lyrics are pulled from the notes you’ve received. The tone of his voice is raw and passionate as he sends his affection across the room.

As soon as he steps off stage, you’re on a mission to find him. He feels a tap on his shoulder and turns to find you beaming at him. Eddie finally allows himself to do the same, all the while blushing with exhaustion and anticipation.

“Hey, again,” you stare down at your shoes and scuff them against the floor. “You sounded great up there.”

“Yeah?” he swallows hard. “You liked it?”

Your eyes snap back up to his. “All of it, every single word.”

“I’ve got like half a notebook’s worth of stuff like that,” Eddie chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. “Is that weird?”

“Far from it,” you tilt your head toward the bar. “I’d love to hear what else you’ve got to say.”

Eddie hovers his hand over the small of your back to guide you through the crowd. “I’ll sweet talk you until the sun comes up, Baby Ghoul. Anything for you.”

Reblogs are greatly encouraged and appreciated! ♡

Consider reading From Bar to Billboard, I worked really fucking hard on it 🖤

★My Masterlist

★Tip Jar

tags:@nj01@tlclick73

[kiddbegins]

Secrets Kept - Matt Casey [Pt. 1]

Requested: kind of. The request I got gave me the idea, but I decided to split it up into a mini-series on my own

Word count: 3,759

Warnings: nothing really tbh

A/n: that little comment she makes is a canon event for me... didn't break my wrist though

Masterlist

Working at 51 was a blessing. Truly. Moving to Chicago from the east coast and so having a group of people practically invite you in with happy, open arms was exactly what you needed. 

You were content with your crew, the boys shockingly open for having you be one of their first female firefighters, even the older men of the group were welcoming. Something you were sure was by some grace of god. 

Regardless, your first year has been going great, and the closer you got to the one year mark the more you wanted to tell your lieutenant of your plans to apply to squad. Sure you could have put in an application months ago, got a head start on things, but you wanted the regular truck experience under your belt.

Get to know the way the Chicago fire department worked, get to know the people in the house in case you were detailed to somewhere that wasn’t 51. Which would suck. Not only because you liked the crew, 81 specifically but Severide was someone you wouldn’t mind working under.

“What are you thinking about?” A voice pulled you out of your thoughts and back to reality which was that you were staring in front of you at the mug that was still sitting completely filled. 

You lifted your head, shrugging faintly as Stella took the spot across from you, “Uh, nothing, honestly. Kind of just zoned out.” In an attempt to cover the fact you were lying, you chuckled, “Not my best habit.”

Stella nodded, crossing her arms. “Yeah I have noticed that about you. Except that was usually when you were looking at someone,” A smile on her face as she not so subtly gestured towards the lieutenant at the opposite end of the table.

There was no real way to hide the way your cheeks tinged pink, a light scoff leaving your mouth. “I… I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.” You tried to divert your attention to the mug in front of you but Stella’s smile tightened.

“Oh, you so do.” She laughed quietly, leaning closer to you, elbows to the table. “You got the hots for-”

“Shush, don’t you dare say a thing. If I’m admitting this to you, you’re being bound to secrecy.” Your finger pointing at her made her zip her lips with an imaginary key, tossing it over her shoulder. “Thank you. New conversation topic now?”

Stella nodded, starting to go off about how she was gonna try and get a job at Molly’s, put use the mixology knowledge she had tucked into her pocket to use. Except Herrmann was apparently not entirely sure that was a good idea.

You rolled your eyes slightly, “You’d be great, you’ve made me a cocktail before and it was freaking delicious.” 

“Right?! Thank you.”

“Not to change the topic again but can I run something by you?” You took advantage of the pause in conversation, Stella gesturing forward, urging you to continue. “Do you think I’d be a good fit for squad?” The question made the other girl raise.

Her lips tugged down as she nodded, “I don’t see why not? I mean everyone is if they get the right training? Why? You thinking about leaving us?” Stella was usually supportive and that was pretty soothing.

When you first joined 51, she made sure you felt welcomed, and maybe that was why you got the open arms as you got used to those around you. “Leaving us?” Casey looked up from the magazine in his hands, Stella’s voice coming out louder than she meant to.

You turned to him quickly, shaking your head, “No, no, not leaving.” You attempted to clarify with a waving of your hands.“I just uh, I was kind of thinking about trying out for squad is all. And I wasn’t going to say,” A pointed glare at Stella, “ anything until I knew if I was going to go through with it or not.”

Matt put the magazine down, leaning forward onto the end of the table. “You wanna join squad?” His eyebrow cocked up, something being said in between the words that you couldn’t put your finger on. Not disapproval but also not support. 

Some sort of middle ground. “Uh, yeah? Is that an issue?” Your voice came out just a bit snippier than it was meant to, reading too much into the way he seemed to not think she could do it? To not want her to do it? “Sorry, that came out wrong.”

Mentally you slammed your head to the table, Casey shaking his head slightly, “No, it’s okay, you just uh, never seemed like you had an interest in it before. That’s all.” He replied, eyes lingering on you before glancing at Stella who had sat back, watching the two of you talk.

She was perfectly content in staying out of the conversation, letting you and Casey continue at it. “I’ve been thinking about it for a couple months. It’s no biggie. Sorry if I should have told you sooner.”

He waved off the apology, it wasn’t like you owed him the knowledge of your interest in the switch. And you knew that as your lieutenant and friend that he’d support you whether you gave him a big heads up or not. 

“No worries, keep me updated?”

“Uh, sure…” You glanced slightly at Stella before standing, making a beeline for… well anywhere but where you were. It didn’t have to be so awkward around Matt, hell it felt wrong to feel so awkward around him.

But he was just so open about welcoming you in with open arms and the fact that he consistently checked in at the end of shifts made you feel all… warm inside. And sure, he was just doing his job, being a lieutenant and/or being a friend, but you couldn’t help the fact it made you want to grab him by the face and kiss him.

Which is a totally normal thing to feel. Kinda. You collapsed into a chair out on the apparatus floor, forehead leaning against squad’s table, each of the other guys just looking at you in confusion. The table was meant to only be for them but she’d already taken to it. 

“Well hello to you too,” Cruz laughed out, tossing his hand of cards onto said table in annoyance, “alright I’m out,” they were playing some card game you didn’t know, just listening to them bicker back and forth.

Mainly Kelly telling Capp that his hand was crap and that he wasn’t bluffing (he was), but mixed with him arguing the same thing back. You sighed as the game came to an end, Kelly winning just like you assumed he would. 

“Severide, could I ask you something?” You asked as the others went inside, the food for lunch being done and them apparently starving from what Tony had said. 

Kelly nodded, “Shoot.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to ask, didn’t want you to think I was looking for an in or something but if I was gonna try for squad, do you have any specific classes and stuff you recommend?” 

He went off into an entire list of classes, your eyebrows lifting as you sighed, “God. Alright, uh, could you… write those down? At least the last few, I got the diving and the hazmat but other than that.” 

Kelly chuckled before pulling the notebook on the table closer to him and jotting most of them down. “Here, if you need to, I give you full clearance to name drop me to the higher ups.”

“That offer is greatly appreciated Kelly, thank you.”

-

Later that night, as always, the firehouse met up at Molly’s. Drinking, chatting, snacking on the small bowls of peanuts that Herrmann put out. Everything. 

You were currently sitting at the bar, Otis on the other side rambling on about how he would like to start offering at least some sort of food that wasn’t the nuts but Herrmann was apparently fully against it. 

As he was with most things. “I just don’t understand why he wouldn’t want to. It would help the bar immensely, don't you think?” 

Stella, who was sitting next to you nodded, but you didn’t answer. Too busy gazing off to the one man in the entire building that you couldn’t have. “Earth to y/n.” She muttered on behalf of Otis, sighing as she followed your line of sight. “Jeez, alright, look at me.” 

Stella snapped her fingers in front of your face. “What, what?” You flinched, turning to her with a slight glare in your eye. 

“What? Dude,” She lowered her voice and turned to be away from the man who got pulled away seconds later, “you were staring at Casey. Again. Look, either you suck it up and ask him out, or you throw your crush off the roof of a burning building into the chicago river. Because you can’t pine forever.”

She leaned away as Sylvie came over, sitting directly next to you. “Hey, what are we talking about? I don’t know how much longer I could listen to Casey talk about construction jobs.”

“I would.” You commented before sighing and shaking your head, forcefully pulling your eyes away from the blonde Lieutenant. “And uh, just firefighting stuff. I’m starting to train for squad.”

Sylvie nodded faintly, “Hm, right, I’ll just listen in then,” she chuckled, ordering some fruity drink right after. The conversation ended up mainly being about movies you’d all seen, and making plans to see a new one together soon. 

After a while you sighed, “I think I’m done, gonna head home.” Stella frowned before nodding. 

“Alright, be careful getting there.” She spoke, knowing you had a few drinks and were a decent lightweight. 

You nodded before standing, putting your jacket on and heading towards the door. “Oh hey, you leaving too?” The familiar voice of Matt Casey caught your ear as you grabbed the door handle. 

Softly you nodded, pulling it open and letting him out first. It wasn’t awkward per say but there was an unexplainable silence as you both walked to your respective cars, his truck parked right in front of yours.

“You shouldn’t be driving.”

“Neither should you.”

Matt looked over at you, eyes lingering just too long that you felt yourself go warm. He nodded faintly, “Fair enough. How about I walk you home then?” He offered genuinely, always happy to make sure someone got home safe.

Even more happy to walk and talk with you the entire way there. Not that you lived far but it was far enough that you’d be walking for a decent amount of time. “It’s a bit of a walk.” You muttered, hands deep in your pockets.

“I don’t mind.”

It was so hard to ignore the way those three words made your heart skip a beat. Like he knew how you felt and all that. You nodded just slightly, not trusting your voice to be steady as you started in the direction of your apartment.

In actuality it would have made more sense to uber. Get there quicker, no awkward conversation with the man you wanted to kiss regardless of all those regulations. But how could you have said no and wasted the way you walked together?”

“So, Sylvie said you have a construction job coming up? You only talk about those if you’re not sure how to do them.” You glanced over at him, the blonde chuckling in response. He was aware that he did that, but he didn’t know anyone else picked up on it.

Slightly he nodded, “Yeah, these people want a shed, but they want it two floors, with an actual staircase but they don’t have the space for one. It’s frustrating.” Matt chuckled, fondly glancing over at you as your eyes stayed on the ground in front of you.

You nodded, “What about a spiral? Those aren’t like, a lot of space right?”

Matt stopped, looking over at you. “That’s actually a really good idea. I don’t know how I didn’t think of that.” He laughed softly before continuing on next to you.

“My apartment has one that has definitely given me tons of space so, I figured I’d offer it up.” You shrugged faintly, smiling warmly to the man. “Glad it wasn’t a stupid idea at least.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever had a stupid idea.”

“More like you’ve never seen or heard my stupid ideas. I have plenty.” You joked as you turned the corner, taking the chance to look up at him, the same smile on your face that didn’t seem to want to go away.

He raised his eyebrows slightly, looking at you. “Maybe you should tell me some of them then.” When you looked over at him he had a soft smile on his face, as if he actually wanted to hear anything and everything you could have thought of.

You immediately blushed, the thought of sharing half of the shit you thought throughout both your life and more importantly, the shifts you had together. “Uh, mmm, maybe if I wanted to embarrass myself I would.”

It was a good reason, hopefully a satisfactory one. “Oh come on, we’ve been friends for how long now? I don’t think anything you tell me could be that bad.” Matt lightly elbowed you. It was nearly impossible to give in.

Like seriously, he looks over at you with the stupidest and shiniest blue eyes and you’re expecting to not give in but then he gives a reassuring smile and it’s like he flicked the heel of Achilles. 

“God fine, only because I can’t say no to your stupid blue eyes,” You huffed, looking down at your feet as you paused at a crosswalk. “When I was a kid, I thought it was a good idea to ride in one of those red Little Tikes cars on my mom’s friend’s porch.” 

Matt shrugged, “Couldn’t have been that bad?”

“There were no railings and I went right off the side. Broke my right wrist.” You laughed quietly, shaking your head, “Not the first time I’ve broken a bone because I thought something seemed like a good idea.”

He rolled his lips in an attempt to not laugh, failing as he chuckled in response, “Okay, maybe not your best call but hey, you managed to make it here and you’ve had better ideas now.” Matt offered, “Like that call at that house fire last shift.”

You waved off the comment, “Someone would’ve thought of that too.”

“But you thought of it first.”

You didn’t get a chance to retort, your apartment complex coming up in just a few more steps. “Well, this is me.” You breathed out, turning to Matt as you stopped at the front stoop. 

He stopped, just barely glancing over your shoulder to the apartment building before back at you. There wasn’t a bone in his body that wanted to leave you. Talking just.. Came so easily. It was probably the simplest conversation he’d had all day and between the other firefighters and the higher ups he was forced to talk to that day, he needed it.

“Oh, alright.” 

There was no way to deny the fact you didn’t want him to leave either. Maybe you should have just kept walking. Take a tour of Chicago as if you’d never been before, maybe that would be a good way to get him to spend more time with him.

Just slightly you nodded, stepping forward to hug him, arms over his shoulders. The choice you made to do that was split second, not giving any chance to second guess. Matt hugged back, only a tiny bit shocked.

He wanted to have his arms around you longer, his grip not loosening as you pulled back. Your arms stayed over his shoulders, eyes darting over his face. What was he doing? Why didn’t he let go?

His gaze was on you with the intensity of about a three alarm fire, “Casey?” You muttered just barely, unable to pull your eyes from his once they locked onto one another. It felt like there was buzzing all around as he just slightly leaned forward.

Against everything you wanted to do, you slightly pulled your head back, “Casey, we can’t.” You sighed, punching yourself mentally and repeatedly, wishing you could’ve forgotten that he was your lieutenant, your superior. That it was wrong.

“Why not?” He muttered, already knowing the answer. Matt wasn’t unknowing of the rules. “You’re trying out for squad soon right?” That was why he was acting differently. How you hadn’t realized that before was a mystery to you.

You gaped slightly, “I mean yeah, but that’s not for a while.” You wanted to give in. Truly it was like he was mentally pulling you in and you were just strong enough to not let it phase you. Sort of.

But squad was far out. Months away. Hell you hadn’t even applied yet. But for some reason, Matt didn’t seem to really care. Well, he didn’t mind, but you on the other hand, were worried. 

Matt moved a hand from around you, putting it on the side of your face, “It’s still going to happen.” He moved slightly closer, your body not moving that time. It wasn’t like he was wrong. It was going to happen.

What exactly could go wrong?

He noted the lack of rejection that time, eyes locking on yours before onto your lips, officially moving the rest of the way and pressing into a kiss. Every single neuron in your brain seemed to fire at once, your body immediately going warm.

Matt kept his hand on your cheek, your arms over his shoulders just enough to keep him to you. The way he held you made every thought, every bit of concern fly right out of your brain. As if you never even thought of it.

You leaned in more, grabbing at the front of his jacket like he’d suddenly disappear if you didn’t. He pulled back just slightly, the both of you needing to breathe. “Do you want to come upstairs?” Your voice was soft and low, Matt almost immediately nodding and muttering a yes under his breath.

In seconds you dropped your hand to grab his, pulling him upstairs and into your apartment.

-

The last thing you expected in life, well, in the last few months anyway, was to wake up to your boss looking over at you. Matt Casey being the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes made your breath catch and your heart nearly stop.

If you didn’t already think he was attractive, the way his hair was tousled from the night before along with the lazy smile that grew on his face at the first sign of your consciousness would have been enough for you to sleep with him.

Again.

Oh fuck, you slept with him. With god damn Lieutenant Casey. “Oh my god, we-”

“We did.” Matt cut you off, looking down at you, “And if you want me to leave and forget it happened I will. But if it matters at all, I would like to not do that.” He spoke soothingly.

Once again you were a snake and he was the charmer, calming you down as you sighed, “Don’t leave, but we definitely need to talk about this because honestly we shouldn’t’ve done this and if Boden finds out or worse-” Matt leaned down to kiss you, his lips probably the best form of being shut up you’d ever had done.

He hovered over you, a hand next to your head, “Breathe. It’s okay,” His hand moved to stroke through your hair. “Just, take a second.” Maybe it was you being blinded by your feelings but you felt like you had to listen, sighing softly.

“Go ahead.”

“Alright, maybe last night was a lapse of judgment, but, I have wanted to do that for at least the last two months.” Matt started, moving to sit up in the bed, you following suit, the blanket pulled up over your chest.

You could tell he wasn’t done so you simply nodded, “And finding out you wanted to try out for squad was probably the best thing I could have heard cause, working with you but not being able to do anything was suffocating me.”

Matt picked at a loose string on the blanket before he continued again. “If it means anything. I want to do this. Be with you.”

“Casey, we wouldn’t be able to at work-”

“So we don’t tell anyone. I don’t care if I have to become a hermit if it means being able to be like this again. And, I don’t just mean the sex. I mean, sitting and talking. Laying together. All of it.” His words were convincing. Almost like an angel on your shoulder.

Of course there was the devil part too. Your own thoughts being the negative side. Except, what exactly was there? Sure, no kissing or hand holding at work but would that be much different than the usual already? No.

Maybe it would be worth it. Having time like this with Matt was alluring. It was something you’d been thinking about for ages so why were you so hesitant to do it? “You’ll have to promise something then.” You spoke after a few moments.

“Anything.”

You let out a soft sigh, biting your lip, “You don’t treat me differently at work than how you always do. No, suddenly not putting me in harder situations. Or dangerous ones. I’m still a firefighter and I’m still a good one.” 

Matt nodded, “You’ll still be one of my subordinates. No special treatment. I think in turn that means I have to tell you not to do anything stupid and expect me to let it slide.” He added and you immediately nodded.

“I expected nothing less. I won’t expect anything special and you don’t do anything special.” You thought before holding out your pinky to him. Matt looked at you with amusement. “C’mon. Pinky swear. Everyone knows that if you break one of these you get bad luck or whatever.”

Matt chuckled, nodding as he latched his pinky to yours. “Alright, I promise.” After a couple moments, you sank back into the bed, looking up at him. Without needing to say anything, he leaned over and pressed a firm kiss right to your lips.

“This mean you’re my girlfriend then?”

“I believe it does.”

“Perfect.”

JOIN MATT'S TAGLIST HERE!

tags: @winchesterszvonecek, @halsteadbrasil, @wnbweasley, @firetruckstuckley @onechicagogrl @whiskeymeaway92 @neapolitantoebeans @kellykidd

[rainthespiritual]

pt 1 , pt 2

Pre-death Tate Langdon fic PART TWO

btw some trigger warnings for the series as a whole are deffinetly: drug abuse, depression, suicide, and topics similar to that even if they don't show up in this specific part THEY WILL EVENTUALLY so I just want yall to be warned ty

TRIGGER WARNING : Tate langdon is a tw tbh and American horror story in general, smoking, talk of abusive dad and family slightly(it'll be talked abt more in other parts), angst, this part is more tame that the other parts will be, and alot of talk on bullying and angsty teen bullshit yk the drill

summery: Tate invited you to his house and talked to you about wanting to be friends again!

sorry if this is bad I didn't get to edit it cuz im using my phone PLZ ENJOY LETS GET INTO IT YUH

"Meet me here again tommorow, same time."

His words have been repeating in your head since yesterday. I mean yeah almost being caught by a teacher scared you shitless... and you didn't want it to happen again but it seemed almost worth it. the way he makes you feel is worth it. I mean this is the most validated you've felt in months.

You are pulled back to reality, to the smell of musty books and to the sound of the library, "___ you aren't listening again." sighing at your so called friend. you almost snap at her but she continues before you can knowing she now has your attention again. the sound of a distant clock ticking puts you more at ease as you try not to get too deppressed. The library is usually a nice safe space for you but sometimes you are followed, but you just have to deal with it. she goes on for a while before saying something that actually causes you to look up at her,

"Do you see that guy staring at me." she waves her head and your eyes meet Tates. he's sitting down at a distant table with a book in his hands but it's clear he isn't reading it. He smiles when you notice him and its also clear he isn't looking at your friend. He's staring at you.

"Yeah I do Heather.." you break eye contact with him hoping the hotness you feel in your cheeks isn't them turning red. Tate also stops looking in your direction and his attention goes to the book.

"I mean he's cute but he's all quiet and weird, ya know? ..kinda like you." she smiles as you sigh. you aren't quiet she just won't let you get a word in. You look back to the table where Tate was at but he is gone, you look around wondering if he was still in the library but there is no sign of him. not even the book he was reading, he must have taken it. it is common for kids at your school to take books to the tables and leave them if they weren't interested or more likely if they were just trying to seem busy. Tho it being frowned upon it happens quite alot.

"I've gotta go." You gather your things and start to stand.

"..where do you have to go?" Heather your friend scoffs slightly thinking you have nothing better to do.

"I've gotta go to the bathroom actually so.. And class is starting soon, see ya." with that you leave almost as fast as you did yesterday, mostly to avoid more questioning and bitching.

It almost being time to meet Tate you make your way to the bathroom you both were at yesterday. its pretty early but it's nice to have some thinking time. you stare at the door listening making sure no one is coming your way. you'd get questioned deffinetly, especially class starting so soon.. you fidget waiting for the bell to ring but it feels like time is going by way slower than it is. After thinking for a while and the bell not ringing still you decide to go in early, I mean maybe no one's in there? like Tate said almost no one ever comes this way. or maybe Tates there early too? maybe that's why he left the library so soon..

"Tate..?" you walk in slowly praying no one other than Tate is in this bathroom. You cautiously have your eyes closed just incase.

"___?.. You're early, hey." you open your eyes to find a nervous looking Tate.

"Hey yeah I am... is- is that okay, or?" you take a deep breath, the bathroom smells like harsh chemicals and it slightly irritates your nose. "Yeah no its fine, just surprised me is all." what he says makes you feel better and you look up to see him smiling at you, his eyes are red and watery and hes repeatedly wiping his nose.

"is there anything wrong?" you ask genuinely concerned. You seem to notice a wave of sadness on his face, or maybe it was just the smell of this bathroom you felt it irritating your eyes so maybe the same was happening to him? or maybe he was sad, he did tend to look sad. remembering all the small times you looked at him in the halls or at him if he was in the same room as you, he was sad. or atleast not smiling.

"Nothing at all, now that you're here." he walks closer to you, looking down at you.

"me? what do you mean?" you knew exactly what he meant, it just felt so surreal that this tall blonde good smelling guy that just so happened to go to school with you they you also used to be friends with could say this. I mean who would have known. all the boys you were used to interacting with never payed that kind of attention to you.

"I just mean I'm glad you're here. what else would I mean?" you smile again enjoying him saying these things. the validation you felt made you feel great, and he knew exactly what to do to make you feel special. not to say he was lying or anything, he wasn't. His confidence radiated off of him and he knew just what to say.

"well you could mean alot of things." he smirks at your response before pausing.

"Here, sit with me again." He climbs up on the sinks, making sure they aren't wet with his sleeve first. you notice a brownish red stain on his sleeve and decide whether ot not to bring it up. you choose to ignore it climbing up next to him. you take a deep breath noticing how your nose is now used to the harsh chemical smell that is all around the both of you.

"I'm surprised you came," he states looking into your eyes, a weird wave of guilt builds up in your stomach remembering how well you two got along. you truly regret not talking to him and hope you can make up for all the time you two have lost together.

" you know... I think about you all the time." he pushes a section of your hair behind your ear, admiring your face again.

you smile wider at him focusing on his pretty brown eyes. They are so dark and mysterious its not even funny. you also take notice of how dark his undereyes are, he must be tired.

"Is that why you were looking at me earlier? " you nervously smirk watching as he gets up off the counter to stand infront of you.

"we should go to my house." he places his arms on the counter making it so he is looking down on you slightly.

"your house?" you gulp.

"yep, my house," he nods, "we'd have fun I swear. I mean no one's even home." this catches you off guard. I mean a boy inviting you to his house was the last thing you expected to happen. Especially at school, a boy is not only inviting you to his house hes inviting you to ditch school with him at his house.. while no one's home.

"Sure, fuck it!" He leaves first making sure no one is around, you sneak out thanking God no one is around. and somehow you guys make it out without being caught. He leads you and you start to get nervous.

"is- is your house close or?" you gulp feeling a tad bit guilty. You've never missed school on purpose before.

"Actually I was thinking of going somewhere first.." he smirks and puts his hand around your shoulders.

"oh.. where?" the ideas of where he could bring you excited you slightly. The air was clear and the sun was hiding behind some clouds. its a gloomy day yet you were glad you were getting to spend it with Tate, something about him hypnotized you and made you feel ways you never felt before.

"The beach, trust me it's cool. especially on days like this.." he smirks more putting your hand in his, his warm soft touch made you blush. You never felt this way about anyone, he made you feel special.

You both walk in silence just enjoying eachothers company until you make it to the beach. You both sat in the sand admiring the ocean and the gloomy sky.

"do you play hookey alot?" you ask smiling already knowing he often does, you just didn't know what else to say.

"just when I get bored, or sad I guess.. I like to come here, y'know when everything gets too much? I come here.." he sighs looking off into the sea, his eyes are shining with the water and you can't help but to admire his beauty.

"No, I totally get that. I get sad alot too, thats why I go to the library. Usually no one follows me." he frowns looking away in the distance making you unable to look in his eyes anymore.

"y'know.. I don't get why you hang out with those assholes, it's clear they give zero shits about you. all they care about is themselves, even I can tell you that." you frown along with him, you want to tell him off but you can't bring yourself to because in the end... he's right. they don't and never cared about you. they never listen to you about your problems or your feelings. It's always about them them them.

"I know.. that's exactly how it is.. but I have no one else, I'm too scared to be alone." you open up a bit to him about how you feel hoping he will actually listen.

"you wouldn't be alone ___, I'd hang out with you. I mean trust me I'm cooler than all those bitches combined!" he laughs knowing he made you smile.

"then I guess I won't be hanging around them anymore. I got you now." you both smile walking the rest of the way to his house, talking about your past and goofing off.

[pedroshotwifey]

Christmas Countdown Day 1 - Mistletoe

This Christmas

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader

Word Count: 1k

Tags/Warnings: Pretty tame one tbh, mentions of sex, lots of fluff, no use of Y/N, Papi kink? like once?, Javi being a good husband, stuff I'm forgetting, not beta'd so pls lmk if u see any mistakes

Summary: You wake to find Javi trying--and miserably failing--to spread some holiday spirit.

A/N: WOO!! I did it y'all; day 1!! First thing I've posted without smut. Lets see if I can keep it up.. Tomorrow's prompt is with Din Djarin and there will be smut in that one, so if this isn't your thing, please just stay tuned. Biggest Fattest thank you to the lovely @mandoalorian for the prompts and for allowing me to participate <3

***

You wake up with a jolt as a loud crash sounds from your living room. Your heart is racing as you quickly pat the bed beside you to wake your husband up to investigate. You gasp when your palm collides with the mattress where Javi should be laying. 

You panic for another moment at the thought of being alone in the room with something outside, but as you wake up a bit, your brain kindly reminds you that you’re being stupid. 

If Javi’s not in bed, that only means that he must be somewhere else within the house—which means that he is likely the one making all that noise. 

You sigh a breath of relief as your panic subsides, but furrow your brows as anger quickly replaces it. What in God’s name is he doing out there at—you glance at the clock—2:14 in the morning? 

Huffing a breath in annoyance, you throw back the covers and a wave of cool air engulfs your body, only serving to make you more agitated. Your feet hit the cold hardwood floor and carry you out to the living room. 

You’re confused at first as you stand there in the midst of apparent chaos, hands on your hips which are covered by a baggy T-shirt. Glancing around, it looks like someone dumped a box of miscellaneous Christmas decor on every available surface of the room.

“Javi?” You call for your husband and receive a pained groan coming from the hallway in response. 

You immediately gravitate towards the sound, walking into the hallway only to find your husband laying flat on his back next to an overturned step-ladder. 

“Javier Peña!” You exclaim as you take in the scene with equal amounts of concern and confusion. He winces like a child in trouble as you say his name and it almost makes you laugh. 

You make eye contact with him from where you stand near his head, and he shoots you a smile that makes you giggle anyway. 

“Surprise,” he says quietly but with a hint of excitement. 

You stare at him with an amused but sympathetic smile as he attempts to get up but fails. He and you both know that he should most definitely not be putting himself into situations where he could end up on his aching back. 

Unless, of course, its for *ahem* bedroom activities, in which case he certainly doesn’t seem to mind. 

You sigh his name in mock disappointment as you slide down to the floor and lay on your back next to him. You both turn your heads to look at each other and then proceed to giggle like a couple of mischievous teenagers in the dimly lit hall. 

“What were you trying to do, anyway?” you ask once you can contain yourself. He looks at you again and his face reddens slightly. You cock an eyebrow and squeeze his hand which you took in your own, prompting him to spit it out. 

“I was trying to decorate,” he says almost reluctantly, and you giggle at him again. 

“Well, I figured that much, honey,” you say and he blushes harder. You both know the sentiment behind the gesture. This is your first Christmas as a married couple, and he knows that you usually don’t decorate for yourself. 

He wanted to do something good for you, and after you get him off his ass, you’re going to show him exactly how much you appreciate his effort. 

“I was trying to put up the mistletoe,” he says as he raises his other hand to reveal said object. “I wanted to greet you with a kiss in the morning.”

You smile at him and glance at the small bulk of holly and berries that he has suspended in the air for you to see. 

“Well,” you start, “It is technically morning, and you are holding a mistletoe.”

You lean toward him and he pulls the leafy decoration closer to the two of your heads. Tucking yourself into his side, you place your elbow beneath you and he slides his now-free hand up to cup your cheek as your lips meet. 

You sigh into him, and him into you as you melt into each other. His lips feel soft and plush against yours as you swipe your tongue against him. You feel his hand move up until it’s grasping a fistfull of your hair and pulling you closer to him, as if your body could literally meld into his. 

Your brain is foggy as you move to place your hips over his and grind down, enhancing the blissful feeling as you grind your core over the rapidly rising tent in his sweatpants. Javi whines into the kiss and his hips jolt up, involuntarily trying to get more friction. 

Suddenly, he groans in a way that sounds very obviously painful, making you accidentally bite his lip. You quickly slide off of him. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, baby,” you say, genuinely worried and internally chastising yourself for forgetting. “Are you okay?” 

Javi groans again, this time from the loss of your body against his. 

“Yes, Hermosa, I’m okay,” he tells you hurriedly. “C’mon, get back up here, Papi’s not done yet.” He grabs for you and winces again, immediately disproving any chance that he might not be in pain.

You laugh and move away so he can’t lay even a finger on you. 

“No, I don’t think so, Papi,” you mock his self-appointed name. “C’mon, you need to get up, old man; it’s not good for your back,” you finish with a more serious note. 

He looks at you and sighs deeply because he knows you’re right. 

“Fine, fine,” he complies. “But we’re going straight to bed.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you laugh again before wrapping your arms around him to help him up. You’ll just have to decorate later. Not that you mind. 

For once, such a thing sounds enjoyable. Just the thought of putting Christmas music on and dancing with Javi as you find spots for all the decor seems like a dream. Maybe this Christmas won’t be so bad. 

***

Link to prompts

[lilislegacy]

The real question is: who would ✨you ✨ be the most scared of if they were coming towards you angrily?

honestly i’d be freaking terrified of all of them. they’re all terrifying and any of them are valid choices.

but for me personally, percy. without a doubt. and here’s why

reyna, i’d be terrified, but i also feel like she wouldn’t waste any more of her time on me than she needs to. she’s got shit to do. she might slam me against a wall and call me some roman insult, maybe break my wrist or something, but i’ll live.

annabeth is very scary, but she also is a logical and level headed person. if she knew i didn’t mean to do whatever she’s mad about, she’s not gonna judo flip me or stab me. i think more than anything i’d just feel really bad about myself cause she’d lay it on thick about how stupid i’d been. but i def wouldn’t go anywhere near her anytime soon

nico is very powerful and very creepy scary, but he gets worked up so easily. and then never handles it well himself. i’m kinda just used to seeing him mad to be hoenst. he also gets drained so easily, it would take a LOT of his energy to do something really bad. so he’s probably by 2nd biggest worry, but i know hurting me would hurt him too, so he’d think carefully about it.

jason i’m not that scared of tbh. not becasue he’s not powerful, but becasue it usually takes a lot for him to actually, like, do something worth being terrified. he’s calm and level headed. he has to build up to deadly-level actions, it doesn’t just happen.

percy jackson however… he’s too powerful for his own good. he’s the most powerful AND the least in control of his power. the worst mix possible.

first off, we know his “however bad you are, i’m worse” wolf glare is terrifying. when percy glared at leo in MoA, leo was shaking, and said percy’s look felt the same as when jason summoned lighting.

let that sink in.

a single look from percy feels just as dangerous as the son of zeus summoning an ear-piercing, earth shaking lightning bolt. like… HELLO?? i’d throw up and pass out the second he glared at me.

but also, when percy’s mad, water reacts before he does. toilets explode, geysers shoot up out of nowhere, oceans and lakes form 100 foot tall deadly waves, hurricanes dominate, need i go on?that’s not even including the most brutal stuff he’s done. and the most terrifying part: he does a lot of this without even thinking. they are all aquatic and earthly reactions to his emotions. there’s a certain uncontrolled brutality to percy that none of the others possess. the sea cannot be controlled.

so if the others are mad, yes i am very, very scared about what any of them might do on purpose. but with percy, i am most scared of him because he’s an untamable powerhouse, and his emotions unchecked might kill me on accident.

[sailorshadzter]

Jonsa prompt: Jon is a Targaryen who was with Daenerys in Essos.

HELLOOOO THEREEE.

*insert my usual apology about how long this has been in my inbox*

tbh anon i had to force myself to stop writing, i really love toying with ideas outside my usual settings, so this was really fun. i definitely can see myself writing more for this au!

hopefully you see this!!!!

send me prompts

When the raven arrives, she’s surprised by the seal it holds. 

She blinks, turning it over twice, thinking perhaps she’s only seen it wrong, that there was no way at all that a letter had come bearing the Targaryen seal. However, when she breaks it open, even more surprising is the somewhat familiar handwriting sprawled across the page- her one time husband, Tyrion Lannister, has penned this letter for the foreign queen he’s come to serve in their years apart. 

Reading the words written, she feels her heartbeat quicken its pace, her eyes widening ever so slightly. He writes that his queen, Daenerys Targaryen, intends on sailing for Westeros to reclaim the throne she believes belongs to her. Of course, Cersei Lannister sat upon that throne right now and something tells Sansa she won’t give that up without a fight, no, not without a war. Tyrion writes that Daenerys hopes for her support to claim the Iron Throne, as with her she brings Sansa’s own kin, a cousin born to her long dead aunt Lyanna Stark.

Ah, him.

Sansa has known of Aegon’s existence for many years now, her father had often lamented over not being able to bring the child into their home. He’d been spirited away at the very last moment by his father, sent away to live with his younger siblings Viserys and Daenerys, the latter of the two being just a little older than he was. Due to this, Aegon had lived away from Westeros and his Stark family for all of their lives- truth was, that was better for his safety these days, certainly Cersei would have him killed in his sleep at the first chance. After all, there were many out there who whispered that Targaryen or not, he was the best claimant to the Seven Kingdoms. Save for the North, of course.

“Your grace?”

She jumps at the voice, the letter falling out of her hands and back to the top of her desk. A very flustered Lord Royce stands there, stammering over an apology for startling her. “No mind, my lord, I was so lost in thought I didn’t hear you knock.” 

“I only wanted to let you know the other lords have arrived for the council meeting.” The older man says, her Hand to the Queen, her most loyal of advisors- perhaps the only man in this world she fully trusts. 

“Good, for we have much to discuss,” she says, rising up to her full height, giving the letter she holds a wave. “We are to have visitors.. And soon.” She doesn’t know what the right answer is, but she does know one thing- there would be no fighting back against three dragons, not in a physical fight that was. 

So she will discuss with the lords, but she knows Daenerys Targaryen will arrive all the same. 

[ x x x ]  

It is bitterly cold, but somehow, it feels like home. 

The Northern landscape is beautiful, with its freshly fallen snow drifts and gray skies, wild and wonderful in its own way. Daenerys complains bitterly, but she is a dragon and not built for such temperatures. Overhead her dragons soar through the sky, shrieking and belching fire as they weave in and around one another, surely terrifying the locals that gather to watch the arrival of the first Targaryen in decades. 

“How do you like it?” 

The voice draws him from his own thoughts and he casts his gaze to the right, where Tyrion has slid up beside him on his black horse. “How do I like what?” He asks in reply, never eager to entertain the dwarf’s conversations. 

The imp chuckles, his scarred face twisting with amusement as he leans over, just a little bit closer. “The North, I mean, it should have been your home after all.” Like everyone else, he knows that Aegon was never meant to live the life he has- he should have remained North, in the custody of his mother’s family, never to have his royal blood acknowledged. Instead, just before he was slain, his father had managed to find him and sent him with his most trusted knight to Dragonstone, where Viserys and Daenerys still lived with their nurses and maids. That knight never made it back to Rhaegar before the fighting began and would drink himself to death when the war was over.

“It is as I expected it to be,” Aegon says, flatly, returning his gaze forward. 

“Well, I imagine you are eager to meet your cousin,” Tyrion says next, eyeing the young man with those green eyes. “As am I, we were married, you know.” Aegon turns back to look at him now, arching a brow. “She was quite young, too young, even for me,” he goes on with a dismissive wave of his hand. “From what I’ve heard, she’s been quite unlucky in terms of marriage.” Tyrion had heard of her marriage to Ramsay Bolton and the rumors of what that marriage had cost her… And, in the end, what it had gained her. “My nephew would have been a saint in comparison to her last husband.” Aegon has heard all about the terrible boy king Joffrey, not just from Tyrion, but other men who had fled his rule over the years. “Ah, I see the gates now… I must fetch the queen.” He’s lagging behind now, for the queen rides several yards behind them, surrounded by her loyal Dothraki. 

Sure enough, when Aegon turns to look ahead once more, there’s the gates that will lead them all to a new chapter, a new life entirely. 

[ x x x ]

When the gates open, she’s standing there in her courtyard, looking every inch a Northern Queen. Her hair twisted back in braids, her finest furs draped over her shoulders, she holds her head high as the silver-haired Targaryen queen slides down from her mare with help from an older man she knows must be Jorah Mormont. She has learned the names and lives of all of the men who serve this woman- at least, the best she can, based on old records and the recollection of her lords who once knew these men. She’s learned as much as she can about the Targaryens and their past, more than she’s ever bothered to learn before. None of it prepared her for the sight of the dragons flying overhead, creatures certainly too fearsome to exist, despite them being there in front of her own two eyes. 

She forces herself back to the present, watching as the woman approaches; Daenerys is just a little older than she is and she’s beautiful. Silver hair hangs down her back in soft curls, though she wears elaborate braids and when she smiles, she dimples prettily, but her violet eyes are cold in their gaze, never once brightening up with the smile she wears. “You must be Lady Stark,” she says in an accent she doesn’t recognize- one born in Essos, she supposes- taunting her openly in her own home by choosing to not refer to her as the title she holds. “Thank you for welcoming us into your home.” 

Sansa knows she has but a split second to decide what to do- suddenly, she is fourteen again, caught in this very same game with Joffrey. And just like that, it all comes flooding back. Just like that, she knows what to do. “Welcome to Winterfell, your grace, I hope we can become fast friends.” It does the trick and the dragon queen smiles, again, the light never reaching her violet colored eyes. “I’m certain you are tired and cold from your journey, allow me to have someone show you to your rooms.”��

A moment later, Agatha is there to lead the way, but a single man remains in the courtyard, choosing not to join his queen as she enters Winterfell. 

And at once, Sansa knows who this man must be.

He has the look of her father, the look of Arya, a steady reminder of all she’s lost. “You’re Aegon,” she says without preamble, watching as he flinches, as if the name brings him nothing but pain. As if it is a name not his own, much as she once felt living as Alayne. “You are most welcome here, cousin.” Now that she thinks about it, he is all the family she has left in the world. Gone were her parents, gone were her siblings… The last of the Starks, but perhaps, not entirely. 

A smile crosses his features, foreign, but warm. 

[ x x x ]

He finds her on the battlements the third day of their arrival.

It has been a long three days, full of sharpened stares and venom laced words. Daenerys and Sansa Stark seem as if they will never get along, not that he can blame her, not really. Daenerys was hard to get along with, even for her most trusted advisors, even for him, her only living relative. “Your grace,” he greets, the only one in the Targaryen queen’s entourage to use her true title. “I’m sorry for interrupting.” 

She turns to him then, a smile curving on her lips, the beauty of it striking. “You aren’t,” she assures, gesturing for him to fall into place at her side. He does, their shoulders just barely brushing as she leans forward, gloved hands gripping the railing as she stares ahead into the forest that borders the palace walls. Once, she had jumped from these very same battlements, to run into the forest, to hope to escape the hell that was her life within the walls of Winterfell. “I was just taking a moment before the day began.” She shifts her gaze back to him, only to find he’s already looking her way; the realization of that makes her heart skip a beat. 

She doesn’t know it, but he does the very same thing each day. 

“You are an early riser,” he notes, for the morning call has not even yet sounded, though there she was fully dressed and her hair perfectly pinned. It’s hair so red, so vivid in color, he’s never seen hair such as hers before. The color of it reminds him of a sunset, crimson, yet with gold  woven into the strands. She laughs at this, nodding, her blue eyes bright as she turns to fully face him. 

“Shae hates me for it, but aye, I am.” She replies, thinking of her handmaiden who would always prefer the extra hour or two of sleep, but who never outwardly complained. “I find it is the only way to have any time to myself at all.” The rest of her days are consumed by council meetings, by running the North, by every little in and out of being their queen. It left next to no time for herself, save for these early mornings. “You, too?”

It is his turn to smile, only the second one she’s seen since his arrival- a stoic man, this Aegon seems to be, again, reminding her of the father she’s lost. “Since I was young,” he admits, thinking back to his earliest of days, running through the market streets of Essos with the sunrise warming his back.

“You are a Stark indeed,” she says next, thinking of her father who always rose before the morning call, of Arya and Bran who were always out causing trouble before the sun even rose above the horizon. “My father always said your mother would be out riding her horse before the morning call.” She hasn’t thought often of her long dead aunt, dead before her own birth, but she imagines Aegon must think of her often, must wonder how his life could have been different if only she’d lived. 

If he means to reply, he’s interrupted by the morning call, shrill in the morning cold. “I must go,” she says with an apologetic sort of smile. “Let’s talk again, Aegon.” There it was again, that flinch, as if he hates hearing his own name. He nods then, recovering, offering her a bow any courtier might offer his queen. 

When she heads back inside, she finds her heart is thumping madly. 

[ x x x ]

In the godswood, just after dinner, she finds him.

“I don’t mean to interrupt your prayers,” she says when he looks up at her from his place beneath the heart tree. Somehow, she finds it amusing how they’ve both stumbled across the other today. 

“I’m not praying,” he says, mirroring words she’s said before. “I’ll go, so you can…” 

He means to rise up, but she shakes her head, giving him enough reason to pause. “I don’t come here to pray,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand, closing the gap between them before she sinks onto the ground at his side. For a moment he finds himself staring at her, realizing then how much of a regular woman she was, this Sansa Stark. Queen or not, she was like a normal woman, easy to understand, easy to get along with. Easy to love, some might even say. “I have not prayed in years.” He blinks and in that instance, she was not the bright ray of sunshine she seemed to always be, but rather, a woman wrapped in darkness. A woman full of regrets, full of grief, a woman who had lived through things she could never put to words. 

“Neither have I,” he says softly, thinking how no god has ever answered any of his prayers before. 

Her blue eyes meet his gray and for a long moment, they are two people who understand one another in perhaps a way no one else could. Despite being little more than strangers, they understood the gravity of that feeling, the overwhelming sense of knowing that nobody was listening, no one was hearing their cries. “Can I ask you something?” She asks, her gaze never once wavering. He nods. “You don’t like your name, do you?” 

My name… He thinks about how for all of his life, he’s lived with this Targaryen given name, yet somehow, it has always felt foreign. It has never felt like his own. “No,” he admits, softer now, hands curling into fists atop his thighs. He’s never admitted such a thing to anyone ever before. 

Her eyes soften, rosy lips twitching with a frown. “My father intended to take you in, you know,” she says with a tilt of her head, red hair cascading across her shoulder. Jon nods, again, silent and somber. “He once told me that had he achieved bringing you home, he’d have named you Jon, after our ancestor Jonnel Stark.” Those gray eyes widen, his mouth falling open in silent surprise. “Somehow I find it fits.” 

Jon… Had he remained North, his name would have been Jon Stark, or perhaps Snow, if he’d been passed off as a bastard son. Jon… That could have been his name… It should have been his name. “I might like to call you by that name, if it pleases you,” she says, softer than before, the lightest of blushes staining her ivory cheeks pink. 

“It would,” he says with a nod, watching as her face lights up from within. 

[dansevilpianotea]

what are some phancoded songs?

hiiii omg thanks for the ask!! i absolutely love talking about songs i associate with my interests!! (autism has been activated to the highest degree so this will be a long post, you have been warned)

here are some of what i think are classic dnp coded songs:

Guys by The 1975 (i see this as more about the phandom than about dnp tbh but its very very dnp coded no matter how you interpret it) That's So Us by Allie X Still into You by Paramore The Only Exception by Paramore

i have a whole ass 100 song long playlist about dnp but let me give you my favourites that aren't the usual classics:

Eighteen by Pale Waves

This city depresses me But you try to be everything I need We sat on the corner kissing each other Felt like I could finally see in colour I was 18 when I met you Poured my heart out, spilt all my truth I finally felt like I could feel for the first time When I met you

i mean????? thats 2009 dan and phil????? dip and pip??? hello!!??

also fun fact!!: this band is from manchester and this song was written by their non-binary drummer and lesbian lead singer (who lowkey gives lesbian version of dan). you should rlly listen to pale waves. idek if theyve heard of dnp but theyre true phannies to me.

Starlight by Muse

this song, man. never heard of muse until i got into dnp and then i this song was the first one is listened to.

Hold you in my arms I just wanted to hold You in my arms

i feel like it says sth about the expectations of being in a relationship while also presenting yourself on a massive public platform. wanting to be authentic and produce content^tm vs. being closeted and wanting to protect your relationship. 'I will be chasing a starlight, Until the end of my life, I don't know if it's worth it anymore'. Is worth it to constantly push the content out while feeling like a fraud for being inauthentic about your identity? 'And our hopes and expectations, Black holes and revelations'. the future may seem very dark and hopeless sometimes, it may not turn out how we expect or hope, but only once we face instead of fight it (embrace the void etc) we will forgive our past selves and see that the future really is bright. so yes, very dnp coded.

Anniversary by Autoheart

Years of nothing have subsided We have fixed each other up Giving you up? What are you on about? I'll never give up believing in us Giving you up? Now why would I do a thing like that? No I’m not giving you up, no way I will never stop when it comes to you

this song is not only dnp coded (kind of an october 19th theme song) but also has gained a new meaning since the return of dnp games <3. they didnt give up on us. they came back. and we really helped each other get here <3. think about it like that when listening and i guarantee you will be sobbing. the song also has some marriage themes bc theres wedding vows during the bridge so i will just let you live with that <33

Where the Lines Overlap by Paramore

Tracing patterns across a personal map And making pictures where the lines overlap No one is as lucky as us We're not at the end but oh, we already won Call me over And tell me how Well, you got so far Never making a single sound I'm not used to it But I can learn

we werent ready for their comeback / we're still learning to get used to it / just look at them / boiling frog theory / hard phaunch / do i need to say more

Yellow by Coldplay

this song became part of my playlist when phil didnt know a single coldplay song. unfortunately i cant take it serious anymore after dan was turned into a golden pig, then was literally glowing golden during a book event all while #pissyourself4dan was trending and every phannie on twt made their pfps yellow. i will curse your mind to with the lyrics and mental imagery: (im sorry but im also not bc this is how my autism thinks humour works)

Look at the stars Look how they shine for you And everything you do Yeah, they were all yellow ✨✨ Your skin, oh yeah, your skin and bones Turn into something beautiful ✨✨✨ And you know, you know I love you so 💛

✨✨✨

(im sorry again)

Safe & Sound by Tonight Alive

Dan in BIG: "for the first time since I was a tiny child I actually felt safe."

Nothing compares to what we share I don't have a care in the world Cause even if it all came crashing down, As long as you're around, I'll be safe and sound. 🧡

ending it with a nice one because its beautiful and sappy and its so them afterall. they really won rpf.

thank you for this ask, i enjoyed answering it!! (im sorry for taking so long. im on day 11 of a cold so ive not had much energy.)

[deadeyeedangel]

trial run - moira o'deorain x intern!reader

˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ hi ! it's my wife's birthday today, so naturally i thought i'd finally get around to those hcs i was planning on writing! these posts will probably never be formatted with those pretty little headers i see around and i'm pretty unapologetic about it, i can't lie i kiiiinda care a lot less about the presentation and more about the actual writing and i'm a pretty busy person, soooo... sorry i guess? anyway sorry for yapping and i hope you all enjoy, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DOCTOR O'DEORAIN!!!

˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ TAGS: sfw, reader was meant to be fem but tbh no gendered terms are really used so reader can be seen as gender-neutral, age difference (reader is implied to be a doctoral student in early 20s), canon-divergent/au because i'm projecting my own internship problems here i cannot help it, moira being moira but it's way tamer than usual, actually kinda really fluffy i needed some comfort oops, mayyy make a part 2 with the date if you guys reeeeally want it :p

✧˚ · . suffice to say she wasn't a fan on your first day- to be honest she wasn't a fan even before then. the doctor preferred to work in solitude and silence, and hearing that she would have to practically babysit a doctoral student for a whole summer? forget it.

✧˚ · . she very begrudgingly opened up to the idea of having a shadow, however, after she found out her lab would be receiving more funding as a result of the research you were being hired to do. unfortunately that still didn't mean she liked you, though.

✧˚ · . you were young, fresh-faced and naïve, and when you shuffled in through the doors to her lab you were met with a cold presence that you didn't necessarily care for at all. it was what you were expecting when you were told who you would be working with, though, so it didn't come as a surprise. after all, no matter how much better you thought you would fare working alongside your sweet professor dr. ziegler, there was only one in the facility that could find even some use in a bioinformatics student.

✧˚ · . you barely had a moment to introduce yourself before the lanky irishwoman waved off your extended hand.

"wasting time will get you nowhere. unless you wish to bring me my coffee and just sit there every day, make yourself actually useful."

you were silent after that, doing exactly as she said and leaving her alone. no words were exchanged for the rest of the day.

✧˚ · . your first week was pretty unremarkable, but you were easing into the schedule you had made, making a small dent in the large workload you had to do for your thesis. moira was always just moira, working silently in her own corner of the lab and occasionally taking a break to examine your own work but saying nothing at all. by week two, however, the silence was beginning to drive you insane.

✧˚ · . your first real conversation was initiated, surprisingly, by moira. the older woman was hovering over your shoulder as usual, examining your catalogs of the dna structures and compositions of the various modified rabbits she kept in the lab, and she decided to snarkily point out you had missed a section. expecting that to be the only thing she had to say, you sighed and corrected it before moving on but she kept speaking, pointing out areas that you missed in a tone that you could only describe as pointed and patronizing.

✧˚ · . in certain... other situations, you'd find being talked to in this manner by a quite attractive older woman to be much more pleasant, but this was your hard work she was critiquing.

✧˚ · . don't worry, though, it's her love language. she might not say it but she wants you to succeed.

✧˚ · . expect more conversations about your work and hers. you begin to speak more in the mornings when you first walked in, and at nights when you left.

✧˚ · . as the days went by and your final deadline for your thesis was approaching quicker and quicker, you ended up spending nearly all 24 hours of each day in the lab, and of course, moira had noticed.

✧˚ · . she leaves small things out for you that she'd usually leave for just herself: two mugs of coffee now, two plates with some small meals, two shot glasses in case things got rather dire... but don't ask her about them, she'll shut down that it was her doing quite quickly.

✧˚ · . one very early morning she returns from the bathroom to find you slumped over your desk, fast asleep. your face was smushed against your keyboard, keying in a constant and ever-growing string of the letter h into your catalog. if you ever found out and asked, she would have simply said she didn't want the data to be messed up. however, that was most certainly not the case as she gingerly lifted your head up carefully to delete the keyboard smash, saving your work and turning off your computer before leaving you back to your rest.

✧˚ · . she was back at her work for a good five minutes before she decides to take her lab coat off, draping it over your still-sleeping form like a makeshift blanket. you woke up that morning confused but grateful, with a slightly flushed doctor o'deorain saying she simply didn't want you to get sick, as it was cold in the lab anyway.

✧˚ · . your thesis was due the day before your last day of work, and moira was quieter than usual. you've been stressed and working dilligently all day, but when you finally submit it right before the clock struck midnight, moira got up from her side of the lab, and retrieved two glasses and a bottle of champagne.

✧˚ · . you never thought she'd be the type to celebrate this sort of thing, especially when it took her away from her work, but when she motioned you to come over, you couldn't help but listen.

✧˚ · . clinking your glasses together, moira congratulated you on your work, and over the alcohol, conversation brewed quickly. you spoke of your plans for the future, your research, her research, discussion flowing for hours, as if it were meant to be. a well-received moment of relaxation for the doctor, you assumed, surprised she'd spend it with you rather than alone.

✧˚ · . she never got the chance to ask if perhaps the two of you could see each other... outside of the lab, maybe for dinner or a coffee. a trial run if anything, she said.

✧˚ · . or- well, she didn't really say it. angela came up to you after a class and told you on her behalf. nerd with a crush doing nerd with a crush things, i guess.