#I'll be writing actual fics tomorrow so be ready for that!

[artiststarme]

Eddie saw the kids treating Steve like he was the dumbest member of the Party. He saw them ridiculing him about his verbiage, his confusion over DnD, and his lack of dating. Hell, they found fault in basically everything he did. Eddie saw Steve losing more and more of his confidence until he had hardly any left. He would wilt under the force of their judgment, his smile would dim, and he’d make his entire being smaller. 

It made Eddie furious. Steve might not be the best at reading or playing roleplay games involving excessive amounts of math but he had his own strengths. He knew how to survive. Steve had told him about being left alone at home from a young age and having to figure out how to change the batteries in the smoke detector. How he’d had to figure out how to clean the pool and handle the chemicals when he was eleven because his parents wanted to come home to a clean pool. He’d seen him decipher sports plays on TV that had Eddie’s mind boggling.

Not to mention the fact that Steve had been keeping those bitchass kids safe for the past three years. He’d provided first aid, fought monsters from hell, and still managed to keep those little shits alive. So, the next time he hears one of them say something derogatory about Steve, Eddie might lose it a little.

Importantly, his words met their mark. There was some screaming involved, some finger-pointing, and blame thrown around. The kids may have been in shock for part of his tantrum and in tears for the rest of it. But from that day forward, they treated Steve with the respect he deserves. They stopped calling him names and insulting his intelligence. They stopped expecting the most of him and treating him the worst. Most of all though, they started showing their appreciation. 

And it made Eddie happy. No one, according to him and everyone else’s opinion that mattered, deserved it more than Steve. He let him know as often as possible, whispering it into their kisses or into his ear as he cuddled him at night. For the rest of their lives, Eddie would make Steve understand how smart and how important he is.

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Fuck it, Babes! I'm Fixing This in Denial-verse!

You know what? Like the song title that started this fic says, "Say No More", Tim. You don't see the joy in BuckTommy? You don't see the love and happiness in Tevan? You aren't interested in the stable relationship that is Kinley? I got this. I'm okay with taking Happiest-We've-Ever-Seen-Him-Buck and Fantastic-Boyfriend-With-Baggage-Tommy off your hands, good sir!

It feels apt that I named this fic Denial-verse 😂 That the singers of the song are called Fickle Friends. We had a good canon run. There's a lot of wonderful stuff there. And okay, are there one or two minutes at the end that we have to change? Not hard to do. Take my hands, babes. We're going off the paved roads, onto the beaten path of fanon by the end of this.

I get it. I was reeling. It hurt. I was hurt. It wasn't fair or kind. It was honestly cruel in its execution. I didn't get sleep. I've never lost sleep over a show before. It was wild. But I listened to the song that inspired the first fic in this series originally recently and I just smiled because - fuck it.

I didn't know where this was going back then either.

I thought it might end at any moment.

I'm happy with what we have despite the bullshit that happened. It's more than most ships I love get. And I've never hated writing in the realm of fanon. Why would I hate it now?

I'm actually a little excited. I don't have to worry about whether shit I make up is going to contradict canon anymore.

Now, as my goal in Denial-verse always is, I will be sticking as close to canon as I can. But I won't be ending it like it ended on the show. This might get a little angsty, but I promise you a happy ending. I'm always good for a happy ending.

I don't know who wants this. Maybe I'll be the last clown sitting here reading the end of this epic I didn't intend to write. But fuck it, if I'm the last clown at the circus, I'll be happy.

So.

As the song goes, "Paradise, I'm your beholder!" Now, get "caught in this denial" with me and let me "show [you] the way"! 😆

Be ready for some Denial-verse soon! Possibly tomorrow or the day after!

[allaboutnayeli]

ICE CREAM IS THE KEY TO MY HEART | a.russo x reader

summary: for your first date, alessia takes you out to go eat your favorite: ice cream.

author notes: so i made a poll a long while ago for which player i should write for when i had hit 600 followers and alessia won, so i was supposed to had made an alessia fic back then but i hit over 700 followers way faster than i thought i would 🫠 so instead of this being the 600 follower special, i have something else in the works since i hit 700. anyways enjoy everyone 💞

contains: alessia russo x reader, lesbians being lesbians, fluff!, reader is a total foodie, this is short & sweet

playing melting by kali uchis 🎵

"are you sure this looks good?" you say, gesturing to your makeup as you look at laura who's sitting on your bed. the austrian player narrows her eyes, checking out your face. after a moment or two she smiles and nods.

"yep! i think it looks great on you. especially the mascara," laura stands then walks over to where you are sitting at your vanity. she makes you turn back to the mirror so she can help you out with your hair. "i feel like a slickback would fit your look for today.." she says, grabbing a brush and some gel without even waiting for a yes from you.

"wow, thanks.." you say sarcastically as she starts to brush your hair back.

"awe, you're welcome," she says back just as sarcastically, which makes you scoff, but still you sit there and let her do the hairstyle. while she's doing that, you start to zone out, thinking about the reason you're getting ready right now. alessia, the pretty blonde with the bright smile, asked you out on a date after practice yesterday. the two of you have been acting oblivious about your feelings toward each other for weeks at that point, and everybody else at arsenal was sick of it. apparently, lotte told ella to tell alessia she should just go for it and ask you out (that's what you could make out in the blonde's jumbled rant while she was asking you out) and alessia actually took that advice.

of course, you agreed right away when she asked. you remember how she gave you a shy smile before saying, "i'll text you the details, okay?"

"yeah, okay," you smile back at her, then you two went to your separate cars. that smile was permanently struck on your face for the entire ride home.

the good thing about being teammates is that you and alessia didn't have to exchange numbers when she asked you out since you two exchanged numbers the first time yall met. later that day, the english player texted you a simple message ice cream? 3pm tmr?

you immediately agreed, replying back with your own message 100% yes. i love ice cream 💗. alessia replied back with see you tomorrow!! and the conversation ended there. just because the conversation ended doesn't mean your mind stopped thinking about the date. all your thoughts were centered around alessia and ice cream since 6:20pm when that text convo ended to now.

laura talking snaps you out of your thoughts. "alessia is going to be even more love-sick when she sees you," she says. you look in the mirror to see your hair slicked back nicely into a ponytail; laura can do a pretty good slickback.

"thank you, and alessia is not love-sick," you say as laura moves away from you. the blonde goes back to sitting on your bed, grabbing her phone off of your pillow before laying back.

"she totally is, but okay, we can pretend that she isn't for your sake." you are quick to throw a hello kitty plushie that's near you at her. obviously, she doesn't dodge it as she was busy on her phone, but laura throws it right back at you. unlike her, you dodge it, laughing when she sticks her tongue out at you.

you are about to continue bickering with her, but your phone ringing interrupts you.

"must be your lover girl," laura says when you pick up the device. you give her a nice middle finger before leaving out of the room. it is infact alessia on the other line. you smile right away when her soothing voice comes through the phone.

"are you ready? because i'm outside and really want to see you right now," the blonde says. you giggle at her words; alessia seems to talk with the motto of talk now, think later which you can't help but to find charming.

"i really want to see you too. i'm coming, gimme a sec," you say. the two of you stay on the phone for a few more minutes, then you hangup, going back into your bedroom to grab your wallet. before laura can even speak a word you say, "don't start. she's outside, so i have to go."

laura with her annoying playfulness speaks anyways, "whatever. have fun, lovebird."

you stick your tongue out at her, then grab your wallet. you turn around to see her sticking her tongue out right back at you.

"shut up. don't burn down my house while i'm gone!" you leave out of your bedroom and quickly make you way down the stairs then outside. you smile as your eyes land on alessia's mercedes. the english player gets out of the car, giving you a small wave as she smiles.

you smile back at her, walking down your stairs then over to her.

"hi lessi! you look stunning," you take in alessia's look for the day as you stop infront of her. she's wearing a simple pink sweatshirt and jeans that really make her legs look nice.

the blonde blushes at your compliment, her smile becoming brighter if that's even possible. "thanks. you look amazing too," she says. pushing some strands of her hair behind her ear out of nervousness.

"flatter-er," you chuckle before pulling her in for a quick hug. she wraps her arms around you, resting her head on your shoulder. it's a warm hug that lasts a few minutes until you pull away, making alessia whine.

you gesture to her car, "we should get going, yeah? we have ice cream to eat."

alessia lets out a soft oh, remembering that, oh yeah, this is a date. like the gentleman she is, alessia walks around the car to the passenger side and opens the door for you. your smile doesn't leave your lips as you go over to the side too, sliding into the passenger seat.

"thanks lessi."

"anything for a pretty girl," alessia smiles at you before closing the door. smiling seems to be the theme for today because you can't stop smiling even when alessia gets into the car. she buckles her seatbelt, then looks over at you, "need some help?"

you look down at yourself and realize you aren't wearing your seatbelt. quickly, you snap it in before replying, "no, i'm not a child." your tone holds no malice, more teasing than anything else. alessia shrugs before looking ahead, "wow sorry for being polite. i'll be ruder next time. nice girls always finish last."

you look at her, then burst out laughing. she laughs as well as she starts to drive.

"please never say that again," you say. alessia is quick to nod with a smile, "sorryy. don't know what got into me."

the conversation continues to flow as she drives. alessia looks great in the driver's seat. the focused look in her eyes almost makes you flush. the main perk of being the passenger is being able to stare at alessia with no other distractions. the tall woman notices you're staring a few times, a light blush coloring her cheeks every time she remembers you are in her car right now, admiring her.

it doesn't take long for you two to reach the ice cream shop. alessia parks behind a jeep with the ugliest shade of neon green you have ever seen (ew) then gets out of the car. coming over to the passenger side to open the door for you like earlier. again, you smile at her as a thanks as you get out.

"didn't know you were so charming, lessi," you say, linking arms with the striker as you two start to walk around the car to get to the pavement.

"yeah, been like that since birth i guess," she chuckles. grabbing the door handle to the shop when you two reach the door, opening it up to let you inside.

"i can open some doors too, you know." still, you go inside of the shop (which is thankfully empty expect for the cashier and whatever other staff is in the back), again smiling at alessia as a way of saying thank you. alessia smiles back as she walks in after you.

she links your arms again, "i know, but i'm the one who asked you out, so i think i should be treating you like a princess today."

"so what you're saying is if i ask you out, i can treat you like a princess?" you look at her, heart pounding. her words had made your heart flutter; how could one woman be so sweet?

alessia just shrugs, "maybee. that's a question for later."

you two go over to the counter. the various ice cream flavors have your eyes lighting up like a kid in a candy shop. ice cream has been your favorite since forever. you have had an ice cream cake for every single birthday since you were sick and always keep your fridge stocked with at least one tub of your favorite flavor of the month. to say your ice cream obsessed would be an understatement.

"what can i get for you two?" says the brunette behind the counter. your eyes look at the various flavors before answering, "mint chocolate for me, please."

alessia grimaces at your choice, obviously judging. "uh, i'll get cookies and cream. thanks."

"alright, sizes? cone or cup? any add-ons?" the brunette says. you two start to list off what you want for the ice cream with you getting a large with a waffle cone and alessia get a medium in a normal cone. alessia gives her name for the order and ends up paying for both ice creams like the gentleman she is.

"you didn't have to pay really," you say as the cashier moves from the counter to go make yall ice creams. alessia just shrugs with a smile on her lips, "told you.. i get to treat you like a princess today."

"yeah, thank you. you have been giving me true princess treatment this entire time.. expect for the fact you don't like mint chocolate."

"i like you, but the doesn't mean i have to like all of your choices. mint chocolate basically just tastes like toothpaste," alessia grimaces again. you nudge her with your shoulder, "it does not."

alessia shakes her head, "it so does."

before you can come back with defense of your beloved mint chocolate, the worker is back with you two's ice creams. both of you give a quick thanks before going to go sit at one of the tables in the small shop. it's right by the window with two seats on either side. of course in lesbian fashion, you move your chair from your side of the table to be closer to alessia who scoots her chair over a bit too, so now you two are sitting together in the middle of the table.

"sooo.." you say after getting some licks in on your ice cream, "how long have you liked me for?"

alessia looks a little surprised at the question, but answers anyways.

"uh.. for like four months now? i don't remember when i started liking you exactly. it just sorta snuck up on me," she says. there's a shy smile on her lips, and she continues to eat her ice cream to hide it.

you giggle, "same thing for me. i didn't know how or when, but i just knew i liked you one day."

the blonde smiles at you when she pulls away from her ice cream. it's warm and soft and so cute it almost makes you close the short distance between you two.

okay, slow down. it's the first date. there'll be time for that later. you think to yourself, but still, that urge sticks to your mind like gum.

"guess we're both idiots then?" alessia chuckles and you chuckle along with her.

"guess so," you shrug, then continue to eat your ice cream. the rest of the date goes like that with the two of you talking anything and everything while eating ice cream. alessia finishes first, bragging about it when the two of you leave the shop.

"-it's not my fault your tongue is slow!" alessia laughs while opening the passenger door for you. a small frown sits on your lips as you get inside.

you defend yourself when alessia gets in the car, saying, "my tongue is not slow. i just like to savor my food, unlike you, who just gobbles it all up in one go."

she scoffs, shaking her head, "i do not."

"you do too." both of you snap in your seatbelts, then the english player starts the drive back to your house. there isn't much conversation on the way back expect for the slight bickering when first getting into the car, but that's okay. it isn't complete silent as alessia lets you use the aux; you blast some partynextdoor and sza on the entire way back. shutting the music off once alessia parks infront of your house.

"we should listen to some country music on our next date," alessia says, looking over at you.

you grimace then shake your head, "country music? c'monnn, lessi. that's barely listenable."

alessia fake gasps, "what? don't let leah hear you say that."

"it's the truth!"

"no, you just don't get it!"

"yeah whatever," you roll your eyes playfully before laughing.

alessia laughs too, smiling as she says, "anyways.. our next date? let me take you out again?"

you smile back at her as you say, "not until you let me take you out."

"that can be arranged," alessia's heart is pounding in her chest, and her mind feels like it's spinning because you actually want to continue this connection. this date went so well, so she's already hyping up the next in her head.

you lean over the middle console to pull alessia into a short hug. she hugs you back, again resting her head on your shoulder. when she pulls away, you're both smiling.

"text you the details?" you say.

"yeah, okay. text me the details," alessia says back.

and with that, you get out of the car. your smile permanently ingrained on your lips as you walk up to your house. when you reach your front door, you turn to give alessia one last wave. the blonde waves back, a smile on her lips.

she pulls off when you go into your house. not even a moment after you take off your shoes, laura comes out of your living room.

"did you get a kiss from lover girl?" she teases.

"dear god, shut up!"

author notes: this feels like the easiest thing i have ever wrote 😭😭 and also very adorable. thanks for reading guys 💗

© THINKINGABOUTJAEDYN

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Gorgeous

kai parker x reader (both 18+!) (shy!virgin!kai)

summary: troubled by his own body, kai's afraid to go all the way with you. that is, until you confess you love him regardless of the way he looks, giving him just the confidence he's needed all along.

tags: friends to lovers, kissing, minor fingering, shy!kai, mentions of child abuse / physical abuse [I can't just write a normal fic, can I?], implied s3lf h4rm, emotional hurt / comfort, confessions, making out, blow jobs, virgin!kai, top / bottom switching, reader is a little freaky, nipple sucking, pet names, aftercare, cuddling

word count: 5.5k

a/n: sooooo... this has been sitting in my wips for over a year. for some reason, i just never posted it. but unfortunately, i have work tomorrow, so i'll be dead as a doornail that evening, and the work i wanted to post isn't done yet, so i'll post this in the meantime. that being said, i think i'm finally starting to get back in the swing of things. i'm still working on requests as well as other stuff, but i'm coming back slowly!

also, if this idea is totally unusual, that's probably why it sat in my drafts for a year. it's a year old fluffy smut with a strange premise. bare with me. 😅

The minute you get back from work, you collapse onto the nearest chair and groan.

“You okay there?”

Looking up, you see Jo and her boyfriend on the couch watching a movie. Oops.

“Sorry. Yeah. Long day. Where is everyone?”

“Our dads went to the flooding company people to try and get that situation covered, and our moms took the kids to the park.”

“My brother too?”

“Your brother, but not mine.”

“Cool,” you give the girl a thumbs up. “Hey Cody.”

Jo’s boyfriend looks over at you, “hey, Y/N.”

“Alright, I’m gonna go shower.”

“Okay!”

You make your way up the stairs slowly, wondering where Kai is. Poking your head in his room, you see he’s not in there, but you don’t hear him anywhere else. Oh well. You’ll find him after your shower, because you really, really need that shower. 

In your room - also the Parker’s guest room - you grab a new set of clothes and your hairbrush, before going into the guest bathroom in the hallway. See, you and the Parkers are neighbors and have become close family friends. Though one night after a really bad storm, your basement flooded, as did several other houses nearby. This is a problem Mr. Parker could easily fix with magic, but considering the electric and flooding companies know your house was one of the ones affected, he can’t do anything without revealing his coven. Instead, your family temporarily moved in with his until the county could fix the issue.

It’s been two weeks, no progress. But you’re not complaining; you get to spend more time with Kai - your best friend who you’ve recently started dating in secret. 

As you’re busy undressing and getting the water ready, you don’t hear Kai come in from outside. The boy stands in the kitchen, staring at nothing in particular.

“Is everyone still out?” He hesitantly asks Jo.

“Yeah. But Y/N came home.”

“Oh. Where is she?”

“Mhm, went upstairs.” Then she snaps her fingers, “oh wait! She said she’s taking a shower. So don’t bother her. Just go to your room and wait for her to come out. Don’t be weird.”

Kai scrunches his nose. As if he’d ever make you uncomfortable on purpose. “Okay, thanks.”

Quietly, he makes his way upstairs. When he hears the water running, he bites his lip. Don’t be weird, Jo had just said. But she doesn’t know how close you two actually are. Swallowing hard, he slowly turns the knob to the bathroom door, trying not to alert Jo to which door he’s opening. Inside, the hot water steams up the mirrors, making it hard to see, but he can vaguely point out your figure through the glass. 

“Y/N?”

You hear him and pop your head out of the door, “Kai! Hi. Come in,” you gesture for him to enter all the way.

He does, then shuts the door just as quietly. “I don’t mean to bug you, I just wanted to make sure you were here. Jo said you were, but…” he shrugs.

“You’re not bugging. Come on, join me.”

“What?”

“In here.”

“But… I’m wearing jeans.”

“Well then take them off, you goof.”

“I-I… um.”

Deciding to give him privacy, you stick your head back in the shower and rinse out the shampoo. The whole time you’re finishing your shower routine, you assume Kai’s going to join you at any time. You haven’t gone that far in your relationship yet, but he is a teenage boy, and he does love kissing you every chance he gets.

You two have done more than kissing, of course, but just haven’t gone all the way. And there’s plenty of reasons for that: too many people in this damn house, someone might walk in, someone might overhear, etc. etc. etc. But aside from the obvious reasons, you can’t help but feel like there’s also reasons that Kai isn’t sharing. 

He likes to spend a lot of your time together practically worshipping your body. His lips and fingers have touched nearly every part of you, but he isn’t too keen on letting you do the same. 

Kai holds you in place with a hand on your neck. His lips are attached right below, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. His other hand’s busy farther down - two fingers pumping in and out of you quickly. You bite your lip hard to not moan as you cum on his hands. He continues to finger fuck you through your orgasm, not letting up until your body stills. Then, he tastes one finger before putting the second in your mouth. You suck on it, eyes trained on him the whole time. 

“My turn. Let me make you feel good, Kai.”

“You are. I like watching you like this.”

“No, I know. But I want to taste you, too. Let me blow you.”

Kai bites his lip as if he’s having an internal debate. “Isn’t this so much better, though?” Before you can say anything else, he kisses you, feeling his hands up and down the sides of your body as he does. “Now let me cuddle you, m’kay? Let me take care of you.”

You’re too overwhelmed in pleasure to fight, and succumb to his open arms. Minutes later, you’re both asleep. 

You don’t pry if he tells you ‘no’ the first time, but of course, you can’t help but wonder why he’s never let you even see his body. 

“Take your shirt off, why am I the only one exposed?” You joke, pulling at the hem.

“Hmph, no, baby, I’m too focused on you,” he says. 

Every time. He won’t even take his bracelets off, let alone any of his clothes. Again, you don’t push him - he’ll take that step when he’s ready - but you really want to pleasure him the same way he does you. And besides, he just has to be hot under there; his face is insanely attractive, arms are strong, and figure is lean. You’re dying to know. 

“Y/N?” His voice snaps you from your thoughts.

“Mhm?”

“I, um, actually nevermind.”

“You okay, angel?”

“Yeah, just…”

Done with your shower, you turn off the water and grab your towel. You would just go out nude despite him there, but you know the air will be cold, so you wrap the blue cloth around your body. “Well now I’m done.” Carefully, you open the door and step off the slippery floor.

In front of you, Kai is standing awkwardly. His jeans are still on, but his shirt is off and folded neatly on the bathroom counter. You gulp the minute you see his body for the first time. As you expected, he’s lean and rather well-toned for someone not allowed out of his house much. His arms have some muscle to them, and you can see several prominent veins close to the surface of his skin. What catches your eye most, however, is the sharp v-line shaping his hips, leading to somewhere still hidden from your sight. “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath.

Kai swallows hard. His eyes are red. You don’t notice the signs of discomfort, though, until a small sigh escapes his lips. 

You narrow your eyes when you hear him. “What's wrong, pumpkin?” Hurrying towards him, you cup the sides of his face. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I hate it.”

“Hate what?”

“Hate my body.”

“What do you mean? You’re gorgeous, Kai.”

“All the ew, all the stupid… everything.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t see anything ‘ew’.”

“Look closer.”

“Are you sure? If you’re uncomfortable, I won’t.”

“Just do it.”

Nervous, you step back to look at him closer. “Oh,” you mutter, suddenly saddened. Discolored skin in shades of green, yellow, and purple. Bruises, new and old. Handprints, whip marks, slaps from an open palm, all fading from red. Then there are the cuts, up and down his arms, some on his stomach, some on his shoulders. Clearly self-inflicted, though the bruises were all clearly marks of abuse. 

“Now you see how ugly I really am.”

“No, no, Kai…” Gently, you run a finger across a row of evidential abuse. He flinches a little and you can’t help the tear that falls from your eyes. “You’re still gorgeous, baby.”

“Hm,” he mutters, shaking his head ‘no’.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay. I promise. You are still beautiful to me. And I still want you, I still want every inch of your body. You don’t have to hide from me. Hey, I have some, too.”

You peel the towel away a bit to expose several cuts along your upper arm. 

He sniffs, “those weren’t there the other day.”

“I know, baby. But yesterday was really hard with my dad, and this was the only way I could think of to cope.”

Kai remembers yesterday. Your dad had forced you to go out with him to visit different universities in the area. By the time you both got back, he was fuming and you were holding back tears. 

“He got pissed at me when I said I didn’t want to go to college. He asked me why I was the family failure, and why I couldn’t be more like him.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s okay. I’m okay, now that I’m back beside you.”

“He’s a dick. Your brother’s a dick.”

“My point is, Kai, that we have a lot of the same scars. You don’t think I’m any less beautiful because of them, so why should you think that about yourself?”

“Because I also have bruises from my fucking dad.”

“That’s not your fault, baby. Your dad is an even bigger dick than mine. And just because you have wounds on your body from his hand doesn’t mean I don’t love you or your body any less.”

Kai freezes, “you love me?”

You then freeze, too. “I, um…” Then you realize that that confession may be exactly what he needs to hear. “Yes. I do love you, Kai.”

Tears that were welling in his eyes are now falling, “why?”

“Why? Why not? Because on top of being absolutely gorgeous, you’re an amazing friend and boyfriend. You’re sweet and gentle and trying your best despite the awful circumstances you’ve been given. You’re always there through the good and bad, and I could never get tired of being with you.”

“Can I admit that I love you, too?”

You smile and nod happily before leaning in quickly to kiss him. Amidst your excitement, your towel falls from your body, and your breasts rub up against his bare chest. Kai lets out a moan at the contact, but then separates from the kiss to cover his mouth with his hand. You just raise your eyebrows at him. 

“Feel good?”

Instead of answering, his hands find your breasts and feel them. His eyes roll back in his head. “So soft,” he mutters.

“Kai?”

“Hm?”

“Does this mean I can see you now?”

“Um, I, n- uh-” he stutters over every word. 

“You know what? It’s okay. Later?”

“Okay.”

“Sounds good. And I hate to say it, but we have to stop,” you pause to pull on your panties and jeans, “because Jo will start getting suspicious soon,” you have to ignore Kai’s pouting face as you put on your bra, “and she doesn’t need to see us like this, because she’ll tell your dad.” Your shirt is on next, “and then my dad. And then you’ll get hurt.” He watches you pull your hair out from under your shirt and flip it to curl around your face, “and you’re not getting hurt on my watch. Okay?”

Kai nods, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, pumpkin.” You two share another kiss before leaving the bathroom. Kai grabs his shirt on the way out, fumbling to put it on, along with his multiple bracelets. “Downstairs? I need some water.”

“Sure.”

The minute you reach the last step, Jo calls out to you, “did Kai find you?”

“Yeah, he’s here.”

“Okay. He came in a little bit after you went up. I told him you were in the shower, but not to bother you. He listened to me, right?”

“He didn’t bother me at all. Was very gentlemanly and waited in his room for me to come out.” You wink at Kai as you lie straight to Jo’s turned face. Luckily, she’s fixated on the movie. 

“Okay, good.”

“I’m just going to get a drink and then we’ll be out of your hair shortly.”

◇◇◇◇

“Y/N, are you sure you don’t want to come with us? It’s a huge festival, it’s a lot of fun,” Mr. Parker asks one more time as he’s halfway out the door. 

You take another glance at the amount of people crowding the doorway: your brother and parents, plus Kai’s parents and all his siblings. Minus him, of course. “I’m sure. I’m not too big on crowds, and I’m kinda tired. Might just see if Kai wants to watch a movie.”

“Okay, but be careful.” Then, Mr. Parker leans closer to whisper in your ear. The gray hairs of his beard lightly touch your skin, making you shiver in fear. “And don’t get too close to him.”

“Noted.”

“We should be back around three-ish, more or less,” your Dad adds. 

“Okay.”

“Don’t leave the house, and certainly don’t let him sneak out,” Mr. Parker piggy-backs off your dad’s comment. Jeez, it’s like they’re long-lost irritating brothers.

“I won’t. He’ll stay here with me.”

“But not too close, becau-”

“I heard it the first time, Dad. I trust Kai enough that we’ll be fine for a couple of hours. Go have fun, okay?” You had to downplay your friendship to make them think you only trusted him a little. If they knew the truth - that you’d trust him with your life - they’d definitely stage an intervention and never let you see each other again. 

“Okay, just making sure. See you later, Y/N.”

“Bye.”

Finally, they leave. It takes ten minutes for nine kids to assemble between two cars, between the Parkers’ van and your parents’ SUV, but they eventually make it work. You can literally hear two kids crying over “having to sit in the back again”, but then you hear your Dad’s voice, “ride with me, if it’s okay with your Dad.” The crying ceases at last, and the cars pull out of the gate. 

“Are they gone yet?” Kai comes downstairs about a minute after they left.

“Just pulled out. What were you doing?”

He swallows, “um.” While struggling to answer, you give him a look. “I’m used to hiding during the van-packing process.”

“Okay,” you answer, not entirely convinced. 

He bites his lip, “okay, that part is true. I do hide when they do that because sometimes someone storms back in to grab something to appease the ones stuck in the back, like a snack or whatever. But, um, what I was actually doing was… trying to,” he pauses, and you let him find the words, “build up the courage to, um… can I just kiss you?”

You’re confused, but you’ll never deny him a kiss. Smile forming on your lips, you close the three foot gap between you two, hands tracing his jawline, capturing his face, while kissing him softly. His hands find your waist, gripping your hips. There’s something different about this kiss than your usual ones. Something more hungry… willing, maybe. Whatever it is, you let him take charge. 

As soon as the shift in control changes, he spins the both of you around so that you’re pressed into the counter, rather than himself, while he kisses you deeper. His lips leave your mouth to trail down your jaw, to your neck, but then he suddenly stops to look up at you. 

“Everything okay?”

“Can we go upstairs?”

“Of course.” You joke, “afraid someone’s gonna walk in?”

He misses your teasing tone and replies bluntly, “no, I wanna fuck you.”

You nearly trip up the first stair, causing you to grab a tight hold of his hand. “What’d you say?”

“Is that okay?”

“I-uh-um- yes, just caught me off guard. What brought it on?”

“You said you loved me. And that you liked my body even with all the scars. And that if I can love yours with scars, you can love mine.”

“I did say that. I meant every word.”

“And so now we’re here alone, and I’m going to act on something I’ve wanted to do a long time ago.” 

You reach the top of the stairs. He has an arm around your back to prevent you from falling, just in case, as he stares into your eyes for hesitancy. You give none. “Then do it.”

Instantly, your back collides with the hallway wall and he kisses you with the same tenacity he did downstairs. Out of habit, your hands find his hair; his, your waist, but he’s a lot more confident now. Slowly, he inches the both of you towards his door. His hand fumbles with the knob, making him frustrated.

“Wish I could just open the stupid thing with magic.”

“If I had magic, I’d let you take it whenever,” you answer, again, with no hesitancy. 

He stops to stare at you. “You would?”

“Mhm. I mean it, Kai, I love you.”

“But the siphoning hurts.”

You shrug, “can’t hurt that bad. I imagine it’d probably actually feel good. At least for me, maybe not other people. Send little tingles all the way down to my-”

He cuts you off with an open mouthed kiss. “Now I really wish you had magic.”

“-and then a part of me would kinda be in your blood, too, right?” You finish the second part of what you wanted to say. 

“Holy fuck, you’re turning me on.”

“Open the door, Kai,” you urge. 

He finally does, but in the second you take to catch a breath, he’s back on you. He takes advantage of your state and slips his tongue in your mouth, no regard for anything but his and your pleasures. You go weak in his arms and let him explore, enjoying the feeling much more than you probably should. Then, he taps on your hips signaling for you to jump. You do, wrapping your legs around his waist. He carries you to the bed, finally, and throws you down rather roughly.

Immediately, panic takes over his face. “Shit, that was way harder than I meant to! You okay?”

You, on the other hand, can’t get a word out because you’re giggling too hard. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” He tries again.

“You’re so hot when you’re all dominant. Well, you’re always hot, but-” and then you continue to giggle. 

Kai relaxes, realizing he didn’t hurt you. “Oh you little-” he climbs on top of you until he’s hovering over your face. Legs tangle together, bodies close but not close enough… You buck your hips. There, now they’re close enough. “You’ve been wanting this,” he observes, fighting back a moan at the contact. 

“Yes, but also, your comfort is my number one priority. It’s much better now, with you enjoying it too, than if we were to try when you weren’t ready.”

“Thank you, princess,” he kisses your nose sweetly. 

“Thank you for trusting me. One thing though.”

“Mhm?”

“Do you trust me right now?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” Without further warning, you grab his wrists and flip him over so that his back is pressed into the bed. It’s the first time you’ve ever been on top of him, and the power makes you giddy. 

“I thought you liked me being dominant?”

“Oh, I do. But I also want to see you writhe under me,” you wink at him. 

Kai gives you a look, and you know he’s going to start fighting any minute now. It’s in his eyes, and you can feel his muscles under you tensing to build up the strength. In the last second before you think he’s going to try and take charge, your hand goes down to the outline forming in his jeans. All fight is immediately gone as soon as you start to feel him. He can’t even fight the moan he’s been holding back since you started making out downstairs. The sound spurs you on and you rub him harder.

“More, princess. Please.”

You move your legs to straddle him, hands going to his belt. “This okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Words, please.”

“What am I, five?”

You cock your head at him. “Words, or no further touching.”

“Princess,” he tries to buck his hips like you did, but you’re holding him down.

“Come on, Malachai.”

“Don’t use that name.”

“Mala-”

“Fine! Yes, please. It’s okay. Please.” You smirk, not expecting the begging, but loving it. “You little sadist.”

That only makes you love it more. Not wasting another second, your hands are undoing his belt. As much as you want to take it slowly, you’re both too excited to drag it out any longer. Besides, just by looking at him, you can see how hard he is, and you know you’re almost soaking your panties with wetness. 

“Wait,” he pants. 

You stop immediately. “You okay?”

“I need… I need. C’mere,” he beckons you forward, and you listen. “Need this off,” he pulls off your shirt. “And this,” next is your bra. The minute it’s off, he loses control and grabs your tits like he did in the bathroom a couple days earlier. Before you know it, he’s fondling one while the other’s in his mouth. 

“If mine is, this is coming off, too.” You make a grab for his shirt. He pauses, tongue still around your nipple. “Is that okay?”

“Yes,” he seems to decide in that instant. 

In order for you to pull the fabric over his head, he has to disconnect his mouth from your breast. But when it’s off, he swallows hard and doesn’t reach for them again.

“Kai… c’mon, pumpkin.” You take his hand to put it back on your body, trying to return that sense of comfort, but he doesn’t grasp your breast again. Sighing, you take it as a moment to get a closer look at his body. The bruises, the scars, everything. A tear escapes your eye, and you lean down to press a kiss to one of the purplish wounds. Then, you start to do that with all of them. From his neck to his hips, you kiss every mark made on his body, whether by his dad’s hand or his own. On the fresher ones, your lips are more gentle, barely there, not wanting to cause him more pain. But on the older ones, you leave multiple kisses, or even lick them with your tongue before kissing. “I meant it, Kai. You’re gorgeous. These marks don’t stop me from loving you.”

Slowly, he makes eye contact with you again. His hands reach out to your face, and when he gets a hold of you, he pulls you in for another deep kiss on his lips. “What did I do to deserve you?” He asks with a tear emerging.

“You don’t have to deserve love, baby.” You kiss his collarbone. 

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Your lips travel to his chest. Giving him a taste of his own medicine, you swirl your tongue around one of his nipples. He moans loudly, arching his back.

“Holy shit, I didn’t know that would feel that good.”

“Can I continue to make you feel things like that?”

“Yes, please. I need it, I need you. Wait, but let me-” he suddenly sticks two fingers into your wet heat, hovering over his own body, and pops them in his mouth. “You taste so good.”

“Are you gonna let me taste you now?”

“Sure. Yes. I meant yes.”

Your eyes warm and you continue to kiss him further down - this time, trailing his v-line. You had noticed the prominent indents the other day, but are now getting to see it up close. He moans again, enticing you more. 

“Princess.”

“I’m working on it.” Finally, you shrug his jeans down and off his body. You can tell he’s fighting the urge to hide his now-bare legs, but you opt to not pay attention to them anyway. Your gaze goes straight to the bulge in his boxers that looks even thicker without his jeans in the way. Mouth watering, you touch him first, enjoying the feeling. 

“Y/N, please. It’s uncomfortable. Too tight.”

Succumbing to his wishes, you tap his hips for him to lift them, then peel back the final confinement. His cock springs out, slapping his stomach in the process. You’re quick to lean forward and lick a stripe from the base to the tip. Kai sinks his head into the pillow, groaning huskily. After pulling his boxers all the way off, you refocus your attention back to the length in front of you. 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” you mutter. The praise makes him twitch, and you immediately reach out to grasp him between two of your fingers. “Need to taste.” And then you finally do. You start at the tip, rolling your tongue over the slit counter clockwise, stimulating precum in the process. Some of it leaks into your mouth, straight down your throat, but most of it drips down the side of cock. It doesn’t get far, though, before you move your head to catch it, licking your way from the base to the tip, again. 

A shiver runs through his body. “Feels so good.” Barely audible, but you hear him. 

Positioning your head over him, you prepare to take him fully. To you, it’s a five second break of deep breaths, but to Kai, overwhelmed in pleasure, there’s almost no warning. As soon as you’re ready, you sink your mouth down on him until you get about halfway and your gag reflex kicks in. Cock hitting the back of your throat, you gag around him.

“Y/N, you okay?” He sits up on his elbows, worried he’d accidentally hurt you.

Slowly, you lift your head back up, “I’m good, baby. Just training my throat to take you.”

He swallows so hard that you see his Adam’s apple bob. “Oh, um…” He doesn’t lay back down, opting to watch you instead. 

You don’t mind as you go down for a second time, getting further now. You do it several times, taking more and more of him each time. Your tongue swirls around his length and traces his veins. In fact, there’s one vein in particular that especially makes Kai moan every time you hit it. It’s on the underside of his cock, and you start to pay special attention to it. The rest of his length sits against your face as you focus on it.

Kai doesn’t know if the sight or the feeling is affecting him more. Either way, he feels himself getting close to release. Your mouth is around him, head bobbing up and down rapidly, when he twitches. He whines, resisting the urge to hold your head where he wants. Suddenly, though, you stop and remove your mouth completely. 

“Fuck, wait, I’m about to…”

“I know, pumpkin. Can’t let you do that yet.”

He’s about to ask why, but then sees his answer. In one quick motion, you’re removing your own pants and lining your bodies together. “Ready?”

“Mhm. Yes.”

You smile, grab his cock to hold it upright, then sink your heat down onto him. Kai collapses, elbows no longer supporting him, as pleasure consumes him.

“You okay?”

“Yes, oh- oh god.”

“Can I move? I’ll start slow.”

“Please.”

As promised, you slowly begin to ride his length. Your hands rest on either side of his body and lips are pressed to his chest, leaving hot kisses all over his skin. 

“Let me know if you want to try and take over.”

“Okay.”

When Kai starts to relax, you pick up the pace. Not too fast, but little by little. Soon, his hands find your hips and he helps guide you. His fingers have a tight grip on you, but it only makes you wetter. 

“I think, I wanna… wanna try…”

“Want to be on top, angel?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay. You can just flip us or I can move, what are you feeling?” But the hungry look in his eyes already gives you your answer.

As soon as you nod and grab onto his shoulders, he flips the both of you so that you’re now pressed into the bed. With his usual role re-established, so does his dominance. You open your legs wider to give him more access, and he immediately takes advantage of it. With a lick of his lips, he pushes his cock into you, not stopping until he’s run out of length. 

“Oh my god,” you mutter. 

“Is it too much?”

“No, you’re perfect. Move when you’re ready, mmkay?”

He nods, then copies the way you rode him when he begins to move: arms on your side, head ducked into your chest. His lips attach to your nipples, sucking, and pulling them between his teeth. When he gets a hold of his balance, you feel pressure on your clit, too. 

“Fuck, Kai. You’re so good.”

His body jolts, “say it again.”

“What?”

“Name. Say it again.”

“Kai,” you pant as he quickens pace.

“No one else is home baby, say it louder.”

You had forgotten this fact, actually, but the minute he reminds you, you let yourself go. “Fuck,” you moan, rather loudly, “feels so good, Kai! Fuck. Harder.”

He spreads your legs wider and thrusts harder upon request. Obscene sounds fill the room, mixed with your moans and whimpers.

“Kai,” you pant, “need to hear you, too.”

“I’d rather hear you, Princess.”

“Aw, come on, gorgeous. Nothing turns me on more than men moaning,” you admit. “Need to hear you.”

Previously held-back grunts and groans tumble from his mouth at your confession. When his lips return to your nipple, he makes sure to keep up with your request, sending vibrations throughout your body. 

“I’m close, Kai. So close, so close… don’t stop what you’re doing.”

“I’m getting there, too,” he twitches again. “Come for me, Princess.”

As soon as he asks, your orgasm rips through your body. Loud moans follow, and your eyes roll back in your head. Kai rides you through yours, before pulling out and immediately releasing all over your face and chest. Some drips off your shoulders, down to the bedsheets.

The minute he catches his breath, a worried expression takes over his face, “I’m sorry! I knew I shouldn’t do it inside you, but wasn’t sure where else to. I aimed for your chest and misfired.”

You make direct eye contact with him, then swipe a bunch off your cheek with your finger before sucking it off. “Oh, I’ll never complain about a facial.” You dart your tongue out to the side to gather more. “And don’t worry, I kinda like the taste. How the hell were you a virgin, Kai?! You were amazing the whole way through!”

He blushes, “um, thank you.”

You can’t help but giggle. Only Kai would be sweet enough to thank you for complimenting his sexual ability. Your ex-boyfriend, to whom you had lost your virginity, threw you an, “I know,” when you told him he was good. This little fact just made you love Kai even more. 

Then, as if he couldn’t get more perfect, his next words are, “can I clean you up now, Princess? And then we can cuddle and nap?”

“Of course. Give me a kiss first.”

Kai leans forward and kisses you sweetly. His tongue sweeps over your bottom lip, wetting it gently. 

“Blood,” he comments.

“Hm?”

“There’s blood on your lip.”

You run your own tongue along it, “must’ve bit it in pleasure.”

“I’ll be right back, okay?” He pulls on a loose pair of sweatpants from his drawer, giving you a wink. 

“Okay, darling.”

Two minutes later, Kai returns with a warm rag and a water bottle. First, he cleans the small sore and any remaining blood off your lip, then hands you the bottle. “Drink,” he insists. As you do, he moves the rag over your face and down your neck and chest, cleaning off his drying cum. He rubs your lower body next, easing some of the soreness as well as wiping away your cum. “Anywhere else?”

“No, I’m okay. Do you need anything?”

“Just you,” he sappily replies. 

“Okay, come here then.” Arms wide open, you gather him up and pull him close. You take a hand away for a split-second to pull the blankets over you two, earning a whine before he realizes what you’re doing. As soon as your arm is back around him, he snuggles into your body. “I love you, Kai,” you whisper with your lips against his cheek.

“I love you, too, Princess. Thank you for making me feel like I’m worth something to someone.” 

As much as his words sadden you, they also make you feel warm inside. You’re the one that makes him feel that way, and that’s pretty fucking special. 

“Always, my sweetheart.” You give him a kiss to the cheek, keeping your lips there even afterwards. His heartbeat slows into a comfortable rhythm and breathing evens out, and soon, he’s fast asleep in your arms. 

[asdfghjklmals]

SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff. WORD COUNT: 3.8k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc. lovesick!gojo, lovesick!oc. hardcore mutual pining.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend and satoru are assigned an overnight mission together, but what happens when there's only one bed? AUTHOR'S NOTE: this fic takes place one week after love at first fight, so be sure to read it to know what happened last week 😊 and yes, satoru is the enemy in this title. the one tricky thing about writing student!satoru and oc gojo girlfriend is doing the research of what was used back in 2006-2007. like earphones and an mp3 player?! REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

“hey (y/n)! yaga-sensei is looking for you.” suguru greeted you as he passed by you in the hallway of tokyo jujutsu high. you had just got out of the community showers after a very tiring close combat training session with mei mei.

you tossed your towel behind your shoulder, “he is? why?”

it's never a good thing when yaga-sensei is looking for anyone—that meant that you were in trouble or you had a mission. you haven't been assigned any missions yet, and you already got in trouble the other day for hemming your uniform skirt too short.

“he said to meet him in the classroom,” suguru said with an amusing smile, “i think you’re going to go on your first mission.”

“what?! really?!” you were so excited. you had been at jujutsu high for over a month now. yaga-sensei didn’t want to send you on any missions until you brushed up on your close combat. he knew that you could defend and attack in long ranges due to your cursed technique, but he didn’t want you to risk getting injured because you couldn’t fight at a close range yet—so you worked extra hard to get better at close combat.

“yup! i think you’ll have a great first mission.” suguru confidently said knowing damn well that your first mission would be with the one and only—satoru gojo.

you entered the first years' classroom, sliding the door shut behind you.

"hi (y/n), glad you could make it." yaga-sensei started, "i'm sending you on your first mission tomorrow."

"okay, that's great, but what's he doing here?" you pointed at the white haired sorcerer.

yaga-sensei cleared his throat, "he'll be your partner for your upcoming mission. satoru has kindly offered to join."

"hey." satoru waved, greeting you with a smug smile.

you started to feel your cheeks burn in mortification, "can i go with suguru instead?"

satoru was offended and wanted to know why you didn't want to go on a mission with him. he wanted to spend time with you, so how could you ask for suguru instead? the girl he was chasing wanted his bestfriend out of all people? he folded his arms in dissatisfaction, "suguru is busy. what's wrong wi—"

your sensei saved you by interrupting, "i'll brief the you two tomorrow before you leave on your mission. make sure to be ready by 5pm."

later that night: (y/n)'s dorm room

you and shoko were painting your nails in your dorm room as you updated her on what had happened earlier today.

"sensei's sending you on your very first mission with gojo?" shoko giggled, painting dark green nail polish on her fingernails.

you frowned, "i mean... it's not a bad thing, since satoru's really strong and all. but out of all people—why does it have to be him?"

"probably because there is a whopping total of 6 students here at jujutsu high. that gives you a high probability of going on a mission with gojo at least once in your life."

"we haven't really talked since last week." you sighed.

"you two haven't actually had any alone time since that day he took you shopping for your birthday." shoko realized, "—and then the idiot got in trouble for sneaking out of your dorm room that morning..."

"yeah, let's not talk about that," you blushed at the memory, overflowing your nails with baby blue nail polish on accident. (read 'love at first fight' here)

shoko reassured you, "you'll be fine! it's gojo after all—the mission should be a piece of cake and you'll be back in no time."

the next day: mission briefing

"the city of chiba has requested that we exorcise any curses that are in the area of a new department store that they are in the process of building." yaga-sensei started, "they requested one sorcerer grade 1 or higher as it's a time crunch for them and they’re willing to pay the premium. this is easily a grade 3 or 4 mission, so i figured this would be a great first time mission for you to shadow, (y/n)."

"and you get the best person to shadow." satoru bragged knowing it was him you were shadowing.

you rolled your eyes at him, adverting your attention back to your sensei, "i'm guessing this a one-day mission and we leave tomorrow?"

yaga-sensei cleared his throat, "actually, it's overnight. jujutsu high has a reservation at the daiwa roynet hotel across the street from the department store lot. you two will be leaving tonight, spending the night in chiba to get an early start on your mission and then coming back in the evening. i expect a full report the morning after you come back."

overnight?

you and satoru had to share a hotel room overnight?

you peered over at satoru. he was tipped back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs, his arms folded behind his head. he looked very content with this mission. your heart felt like it was going to jump out of your chest and roll out the door.

satoru turned to look at you, "ready to go, (y/n)? you got your big girl pants on for your first mission?"

you shot an ice shard at him, hitting his infinity as he hehehe'd in his seat. yaga-sensei massaged his temples watching his two special grade students go at it.

‘are these two ever going to finally admit they like each other?’ the sensei asked himself.

"are we leaving or not?" you barked at satoru, holding out your arm for him to link his through so you could teleport with him.

satoru winked at his sensei and gave him two finger guns before taking your arm to loop over his, "see you later, sensei."

satoru clasped his hands and just like that—you were in shibuya station.

*****************************

"you have to work on your long distance transportation so we don't have to take the subway, satoru." you bullied your partner.

"i told you last week that i was working on it." satoru rolled his pretty blue eyes at you. "—i'm able to teleport further and further now."

"so how long until we get to chiba?" you asked satoru.

"it's about an hour by subway."

you and satoru were sitting side by side in the subway car. you could hear the rubber wheels rolling against the tracks, the voices of people talking, and the sounds from a teenager's video game sitting across from you. as you leaned over to dig in your bag for your earphones, your hand accidentally brushed satoru's.

you murmured an apology, "sorry..."

satoru raised his eyebrow, leaning into you and whispering in your ear. "if you want to hold my hand, all you have to do is ask."

"i don't want to hold your hand, satoru." you lied.

you looked over at satoru's hand that rested on his left thigh. his fingers were slender, nails and cuticles trimmed neatly. they looked soft. you wished that you had the courage to hold his hand.

he grinned, shaking his head in disbelief. he loved your feistiness. he could never get you to flirt back with him to save his life, but he lived for your retorts.

you went back to untangling your earphones so that you could listen to your mp3 player. after a moment, you turned to him, holding out the other half of your earphones, "wanna listen?"

"before i take this, what kind of music do you listen to?" satoru jabbed at you, "you seem like you'd only listen to pretty boy idols."

you rolled your eyes at him, "i actually have a wide taste in music. right now i'm listening to american 80's. they're my dad's favorite songs."

you smiled at the memory of touya handing you a cd from your father’s large collection of music. he told you that your father was a huge 80's fan before his passing. you spent a majority of your childhood listening to your father’s collection growing up.

satoru took the earphone from you and stuck it in his ear. his stared off into the corner of the subway car.

"so what's this song called?" he asked you, genuinely curious. he wanted to get to know you more, so this was his way of trying.

"it's called 'nothing's gonna change my love for you' by george benson." you beamed, "the love songs were so great in the 80's."

"it's nice."

"you haven't even listened to the whole song yet." you giggled, "do you even know what it's about?"

satoru laughed, "obviously nothing getting in the way of this guy's love for his girl."

"ooh! let me show you another one of my favorites." you said excitedly, "it's called 'nothing compares 2 u' by prince! he wrote it in the 80's but sinead o'connor released it in the 90's..." you continued to ramble.

satoru heart melted at the way your face lit up while you showed him some of your favorite old school songs. he had no idea what the hell you were talking about, but your bright and animated smile drew him in. he couldn't not listen to you talk about your favorite things in the world. he wanted to know every little thing about you. he wanted to always be by your side so that you could tell him about anything that made you happy.

later that night: checking into the hotel

after the hour long subway ride, you and satoru walked to the daiwa roynet hotel so you could check-in for the night.

satoru held your backpack for you as you walked up to the front desk. the front desk employee greeted you. "hi! welcome to the daiwa roynet hotel. how can i help you?"

"hi! we have a reservation under (y/n) (l/n) or satoru gojo. jujutsu high school should've made the reservation."

the employee smiled and nodded as they looked up the reservation. they started to furrow their eyebrows. it looked like something was wrong.

"i'm sorry, miss. we tried to contact you about your hotel room reservation, but we couldn't reach anyone."

"what's wrong with the reservation?" you asked, confused.

"it was originally booked for two queen beds, but we only have rooms with one standard queen bed at the moment."

"that can't be right..." you panicked, "what phone number did you call?"

you looked at your phone to see if you got a missed call. no missed calls were in your log.

“satoru, did you get a phone call by any chance?" you called out to him. satoru walked up to the front desk to join you. he looked at his phone as well, seeing no missed calls either.

"we called this number," the hotel employee recited a number that wasn't yours or satoru's.

"it's yaga-sensei's phone number." satoru said as he recognized the number.

the hotel employee apologized, "i'm sorry. will one bed do? we can refund you the cost of the two beds. or we can give you two separate rooms."

"ummm—" you bit your lip in hesitation. you weren't sure what to say. even though you and satoru shared your bed last week, would it be okay for you two to do this again? should you get an separate room instead and ask for reimbursement from jujutsu high later?

"that's fine. we'll just take the single bed. no need to make a huge fuss out of it." satoru replied back to the hotel employee with a wink. the employee handed him the room key and bowed to the both of you, appreciating your understanding.

as satoru led the way to the hotel room, your face started to fill with worry. were you really supposed to share a bed with satoru tonight? you were already so embarrassed about what happened last week in your dorm room. how could this happen?

satoru stopped in front of the room, unlocking the door with the room key and opening the door to enter. there was the dreaded single queen sized bed, an arm chair in the corner, and a tv sitting on top of the large dresser. not only did you have to share a bed with satoru, you had to share a bathroom too?

'could this mission get any worse?' you thought to yourself.

"you can take the bed. i'll sleep in the arm chair." satoru said nonchalantly.

"are you sure? i can sleep in the chair. i'm smaller than you." you said. by a whole foot, to be exact.

satoru feigned chivalry, "my grams would kill me if i did such an un-gentlemanly thing."

"i'll have to thank your grandma one day." you said with a giggle. "you take the shower first then."

"don't gotta tell me twice." satoru sang. he loved hot showers. he would always fight for who would get to shower first back at the dorms. satoru set down both of your backpacks and dug for his clothes and toiletries.

*****************************

you sat in the arm chair that satoru was going to be sleeping on. it was uncomfortable and barely had any cushion. was he really going to sleep on this? you felt guiltier and guiltier the more you sat in this chair. you ordered extra pillows and blankets from room service in hopes that it would help provide some comfort for him tonight.

you spent time reading over the mission details, twirling your long black hair between your fingers. you heard the bathroom door open, steam flowing out of the bathroom. satoru stepped out, tousling his damp hair. he was wearing gym shorts and a t-shirt.

"your turn." he motioned for you to hit the shower.

you teased him, "i hope you didn't take all the hot water."

"i saved some for you, princess." he shot back with a grin.

you quickly grabbed your clothes and toiletries, closing the door behind you. back at the school, the community showers were separated by women and men. sitting outside this bathroom door was satoru gojo, and that made your heart race.

while you showered, you wondered what satoru was thinking about right now. you thought about the subway ride and how he listened to your father’s favorite songs with you. you thought about how you actually wanted to hold his hand, even though you lied and told him no. and lastly, you thought about your feelings for satoru... they were growing day by day. did he feel the same way about you?

after your shower, you blew dry your hair (it always took a long time since it was so long), did your skincare routine, and brushed your teeth. you changed into a baggy long sleeve shirt and pajama shorts. you flipped off the bathroom light, finding satoru curled up in the arm chair with the extra pillows and blankets you ordered for him. he was trying his best to sleep in the unbearably cramped chair that was clearly not made for men over six feet tall.

"goodnight, satoru." you said, climbing into the bed. you frowned while looking at him. your heart shattered at the poor sight.

"night, (y/n)." he replied, eyes closed, brows furrowed. he was clearly miserable.

*****************************

you tossed and turned for the last hour. you couldn't sleep. you watched satoru sleep in the arm chair—or tried to sleep in the arm chair. he had adjusted his freakishly tall body so that he could lay upright. he said he wanted to be a gentleman and let you sleep on the bed, but you still felt guilt-ridden.

“satoru.” you whispered his name. no answer came from him. you tried calling his name again, a little louder this time, “satoru gojo.”

he opened one eye, squinting at you with his arms folded against his chest. “what do you want, (y/n)? i'm trying to sleep.” he asked you, voice groggy and laced with a hint of annoyance.

kissing the back of your teeth, you got out of the bed and stomped over to him, grabbing his hand and pulling him off the chair towards you and the damn hotel bed. satoru raised his eyebrows.

“i like women who take the lead.” he joked while rubbing the sleepiness away from his face.

you shot him a glare, “shut up—i just feel bad that you’re sleeping on the chair when this bed can clearly fit two people…” you trailed off awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with him. you felt your cheeks turning cherry red, thankful that it was dark so that satoru couldn’t see your blushing face.

satoru smiled at you, his hand scratching the back of his undercut. you were still holding his hand—and honestly? he hoped that you wouldn't let go.

“just keep your hands to yourself this time.” you muttered as you quickly let go of his hand, still embarrassed from the events of last week. deep down, you secretly hoped he wouldn't listen to you.

he gave you his signature shit eating grin and saluted you, “yes ma’am.”

the next morning

your alarm rang at 7am. you and satoru had to be at the department store lot by 9am. 2 hours would give you enough time to get ready and grab breakfast downstairs.

you yawned as you turned into a bare, broad chest. your head resting on a strong right bicep. your eyes widened, your hand came up to cover your mouth. '

damn it, not again!', you cursed yourself.

"glad we were able to do this again." satoru greeted you in reference from his statement last week, his eyes still closed. he felt you wake up when you turned into his chest just moments ago.

"ugh, satoru gojo! what did i say about keeping your hands to yourself?!" you hissed at him.

"i kept my hands to myself. you're the one who cuddled up right next to me and then attempted to use my arm as a pillow. as a gentleman, i couldn’t not let you use my arm as a pillow." he sat up, dramatically rotating his arm from having its' circulation cut off. "ugh, i have dead arm now from your big head."

"hey, i don't have a big head!" you threw your pillow at him, only for it to hit his infinity.

satoru's frosty white bedhead caught your attention. it was so unfair how statuesque he looked in the mornings. you felt like you looked like a troll doll compared to him.

"do you always have to take off your shirt in the middle of the night? or do you only do this when you get a chance to sleep next to me?" you questioned him with a strong but sleepy glare from your emerald green eyes.

satoru slyly admitted, "it gets hot at night. especially when you're cuddling."

"i never asked you to cuddle me, so you didn't have to take off your shirt." you retorted.

"well, i don’t think i can ever sleep alone anymore. having a personal heater is nice, especially during the cold winter months.” satoru sarcastically teased. sleeping next to you was something he could definitely get used to, even if it wasn't cold.

you folded your arms and looked away from him, “well, you’re going to have to get used to sleeping alone again when we get back to jujutsu high. you’re not my boyfriend so you can't just sleep next to me whenever you want.”

satoru leaned in towards you, grabbing your arm. he asked in a lower tone, sending shivers down your spine, “can i be your boyfriend then?”

“no.” you quickly answered before flicking his forehead.

satoru winced and palmed his forehead, chuckling as he watched you get out of bed to dash to the bathroom in embarrassment.

EXTRA:

you were in your dorm room writing your post-mission report for yaga-sensei that was due in the morning, your pencil scribbling and scrabbling as you watched the snow fall outside your window. you were unknowingly tracing hearts on your paper.

you thought about how satoru always made you feel so shy ever since you came to jujutsu high. as a matter of fact, your heart never failed to race around him. you couldn’t tell if he liked you or not—or if he just flirted with every girl like that. you could feel your heart opening up to the white haired sorcerer with each passing moment you spent with him. this last mission didn't help either as you spent a close proximity with him at all times.

love. something you never thought you’d find here at jujutsu high, especially with satoru gojo. was love really possible between you and him? no way. satoru was... well—he was the satoru gojo. why would he want to be with someone like you? a sorcerer who couldn't even control her own powers, someone who could barely fight in close combat, someone so weak... you beat yourself up over your flaws, not knowing that somebody else might love you despite them.

you heard four knocks on your door. it was well past curfew, who would be knocking at your door this late? maybe shoko needed to borrow your pre-calculus notes? knowing her, she was usually up late studying.

you got up from your desk and tightened your robe. you opened your dorm room door to find satoru gojo standing in front of you—speak of the handsome devil.

“w-what are you doing here? it's past c-curfew.” you stammered, feeling a flush fill your cheeks. you didn't want satoru to know you were just thinking of him. he would never let you live it down.

he gave you a sheepish look, scratching the back of his head like he always did when he was nervous. “can i spend the night?”

you stared at him for a moment. was satoru gojo really asking to spend another night with you? he gave you his signature grin in hopes that you’d let him into your room—and maybe into your heart one day.

you rolled your pretty green eyes and sighed, “fine... only because it's cold tonight.”

you opened the door for him to enter your room. satoru snuck by you and quickly jumped onto your very comfortable king sized bed, getting under the covers before you changed your mind and kicked him out.

“—and keep your hands to yourself.” you reminded him again as you walked towards him.

“no promises, sweetheart.” he cheekily retorted as he laced his fingers with yours to pull you into your own bed. you plopped down next to him.

“want an arm pillow?” he asked softly. looking over to see your pretty face that he couldn’t stop thinking about. he’d gladly wake up with dead arm in the morning if that’s what it took to sleep next to you every night.

you shyly replied, “yes, please.”

satoru gave you his right arm as you snuggled up next to him, laying your head on his bicep. he curled his arm against your back and pressed you against his side. you could hear his heart beating rapidly. was it possible that he could hear yours too?

“(y/n)?” he called out your name, interrupting your sweet thoughts.

“yes, satoru?”

“do you like suguru more than me?”

you groaned, “god—satoru, go to sleep.”

he squeezed you tightly in hopes of hearing what he wanted you to say, “answer the question.”

“yes, i totally like suguru more than you.” you lied as you sighed in disbelief, “satoru, you’re literally sleeping right next to me for a third time since we met over a month ago. make it make sense, please.”

you could sense that satoru had his signature shit eating grin on his face. “alright, (y/n). just making sure.”

and in that moment, you thought that maybe love was possible with satoru gojo.

© 2023 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

[xpao-bearx]

"Like A Virgin"

Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Read Part 1 HERE

Read Part 3 HERE

Read Part 4 HERE

NOTES: Y'ALL the way my jaw literally DROPPED when not even H A L F a minute after I posted the first part, you guys were already exploding my notifs which I wasn't expecting AT ALL I swear Oscar Isaac's really got us sluts in a chokehold O_o

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOUUU!!! 😭❤️❤️❤️ This is truly wonderful and encourages me a lot, especially since this is my first ever Moon Knight fic AND the first time a story of mine blew up this much! This is also great cuz I've been terribly sick, but of course ✨️priorities✨️ I gotta shower our Moon Boys with some much deserved lovin' and it's just so fucking nice to see that it's paying off! \(^o^)/ I was so happy and inspired that I couldn't resist and just HAD to write this second part ASAP!

Dissociative identity disorder is also briefly mentioned here and if I made any mistakes, then I apologize and please kindly correct me. And I feel like the ending may be a bit rushed, but it's the best my tiny brain could think of!

I'll shut up now and I'm very proud and excited to present... PART 2!!! 🥳 And if you'd like to be tagged for any of the next parts, feel free to tell me!

Also Marc does something very asshole-y here oop

TAGS: @autismsupermusicalassassin @ungracefularchimedes @pimosworld @ababynova @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @anapnovo-blog @am-3-thyst @harrys-tittie @zukoisbabee @wiltedwonderland

Part 2: You made me feel I've nothing to hide

After work, instead of heading home, you rushed straight to the nearest boutique to buy yourself a new dress for tomorrow night. The butterflies in your stomach were doing somersaults and you felt as if you could spontaneously burst into song like in those cheesy musicals your former college roommate was so obsessed with.

You knew the employees were all looking at you oddly as you constantly giggled to yourself like some lovesick schoolgirl while you perused through endless racks of the latest fashion. Of course you knew you were acting ridiculous--crazy--but wasn't that what attraction or, dare you say, love did to you?

Besides, you wanted tomorrow to go perfectly. In your eyes, Steven Grant was already perfect--perfectly imperfect or imperfectly perfect, you didn't know or care which was which. You just knew that you liked him. A lot.

And it relieved and pleased you to the moon and back that he actually felt the same! So, who cares what anyone else thought?

You just hoped that after tomorrow, Steven would like you enough to go on another date. And another. Then another...

Maybe you were looking--wishing--too far into the future, but you swore you could almost hear wedding bells chiming in the distance.

God, is this what happens after being a total virgin for twenty-something years? There was absolutely nothing wrong with being a virgin, but your insecurity bugged you. What if you weren't at all what Steven expected?

But another part of you, a positive ray of sunshine, clobbered all your doubts. For once, you were going to be brave! You were going to take a leap of faith! You were going to control your life!

Because, in the end...it was worth it. Steven was worth it. Sure, you've experienced various crushes throughout your life, but not like this. Not with Steven. This felt more...serious. Adult.

It felt as if right from the get-go crossing fates with "Steven with a V", your life was about to change--for the better.

Of course you were afraid, and yet you've also never been more sure of something in your entire existence. You've been waiting this long and you're glad you did, and now you were ready to jump head first (and head over heels) into whatever adventure was in store for you--with Steven.

You then squealed excitedly when you spotted the perfect dress, ignoring the judgmental stares other customers shot you as you hurriedly grabbed it like a child in a toy store.

Yes, tomorrow was going to be a dream come true.

♡•••🌙•••♡

You arrived at the restaurant thirty minutes early. It was totally embarrassing how eager you were, but you couldn't help yourself. Though at least with how early you were, you snagged a good table overlooking the restaurant's beautiful back garden strung with fairy lights and you can have some time to calm down before Steven came.

And you looked stunning. Your hair tumbled down in elegant waves, light makeup adoring your face and donning the contact lenses you rarely used. And the dress you bought fit like a glove; it was the shortest dress you now owned, stopping around your thighs. It was baby blue and had an off-the-shoulder style with some frills, and it hugged your figure just right.

You felt very self-conscious. You've always fancied clothes like this, but never actually had the guts to wear them--until now. Did it really suit you? But you couldn't deny that you were happy and, truly, isn't that all that mattered?

"Shall I get you started, ma'am?" A waitress snapped you back to reality and you shook your head.

"Not yet, thank you. I'm still waiting for my...date." The word made you blush furiously, as if sharing a dirty little secret.

The waitress smiled and nodded, leaving you by yourself once more as you sighed wistfully.

You took out your phone from your purse, checking the time. 6:45 p.m. Alright, not too long now. And you double checked that the address you texted Steven was correct, which it is.

You settled back in your chair, peering over the garden and giggling softly.

"I'm right here for you, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

"It's about time, innit?" Steven murmured, glancing over anxiously at his wristwatch for the umpteenth time. It was already eight p.m., a whole hour past your meeting time (not to mention he arrived embarrassingly early). And he was just informed by one of the servers that the restaurant was closing in thirty minutes, to which a pitiful look was also casted to him.

"It's not 'about time', Steven. It's late." Marc gruffly pointed out, Steven seeing Marc's reflection glaring back at him from the shiny silver flower vase set in the middle of the table. "Face it: she's NOT coming."

"Don't you dare say that." Steven's voice was barely above a whisper, but there was a certain edge to it that one would normally not hear from the soft man. "Y/N would never do that. Not her. She's just running late, I'm sure. Traffic and all."

"Oh, please, we both know that even the traffic here doesn't take this long." Marc scoffed. "Stop kidding yourself, Steven. She's. NOT. Coming."

Steven frowned, and with a shaky hand he pulled out his phone. He should've called you since way earlier. It was the logical thing to do, after all. But he was...scared. Scared that, maybe, a terrifying maybe, Marc was right.

He found your number and called you, pressing his phone to his ear as it began to ring. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until you finally picked up, voice groggy.

"Hello..?"

"Y/N..." Steven heaved a relieved exhale. "Hey, uh, I'm at the restaurant. Guess you got stuck in traffic?" He chuckled halfheartedly.

A long, dreadful pause. And then:

"Fucking EXCUSE me?"

Steven's eyes widened, having never heard you swear before. He was just about to ask what was wrong when you continued without skipping a beat.

"Are you playing with me, Steven? Is this what it is?!" You definitely sounded angry, but he didn't miss the faint sniffles coming from you. Shit, were you crying? What the hell was happening?

"How can you be such a...such a DICK?!" You shouted, causing him to jerk his phone a few inches away from his ear. "I fucking waited for you like a total idiot until closing time, you prick! You never showed and you never answered my calls! What the fuck can you POSSIBLY gain from toying with me, huh?!"

"W-Wait, I don't understand!" Steven was nearly hyperventilating, all the colour draining from his face and his mind running a mile a minute. "I-I'm here! Right now! D-Didn't we agree? Friday night, seven p.m.?"

You were dead silent. Steven was going to check if the call was still connected when you beat him to it.

"Steven... It's Sunday."

Steven froze. Then his eyes landed on Marc's reflection, refusing to meet his gaze and it clicked.

"Y/N." Steven said slowly, steadily, despite feeling like crying himself. His eyes were still on Marc, cold and pissed. "Please. I promise I have an explanation. I just... God, can we meet? Y/N, please, I'll come to you."

"No need." Tears threatened to spill from Steven's despondent eyes at your flat response, before you suddenly added: "I'll come to you. You said you were at the restaurant, right? Stay there."

You ended the call, and Steven flared at Marc--no longer caring if other people perceived him as a lunatic fighting with himself.

"Why the fuck would you do that, Marc?"

"Steven..." Marc struggled to find the right words, and the asshole actually had the audacity to look ashamed. "Listen, she's nothing but a distraction--"

"You always think you know better, yeah?" Steven laughed humourlessly. "A distraction? YOU stop kidding yourself, Marc. This is not just your life, but mine. And it's about fucking time you stop being such a selfish bastard!"

"Um, sir?" Steven winced, greeted by a baffled waiter. "We'll be closing soon, so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave if you're not ordering anything."

Humiliated and repeatedly babbling apologies, Steven abruptly sprang out of his chair and dashed outside. He sighed deeply and collapsed listlessly on the ground, finally allowing the tears to fall.

He vaguely heard footsteps approaching until he saw a pair of worn bunny slippers in front of him. His eyes heavily dragged upwards, finding you staring back at him with an unreadable expression and breaths coming out in ragged pants.

"Y/N!" Steven jumped up, surprised you actually came despite the way he--the way Marc--treated you. Your bloodshot eyes and the dried tears on your cheeks only made him feel even shittier, much more fucked up than any beating he suffers on a mission.

Because at least with those, he can be confident that he and the boys would win no matter the challenge. But with you?

He had everything to lose.

Your hair was a total mess; glasses slightly crooked and you were in your pyjamas, a matching set of a purple tank top and shorts with stars and moons. The only thing you had covering you was a purple silk robe, drawing it closer to your chilly body as your eyes narrowed at Steven.

You should be mad at him, and you were. Still, despite everything, you hopped on to the first bus you saw and scrambled the rest of the way here as fast as you could.

But now that you were here...what in Khonshu's name were you going to do? You could scream at him with all the pain you haven't had the pleasure to release like you did on the phone, but you'd just be wasting your breath. Then again, he wasn't lying. He really is here. And it confused you more than anything.

And seeing him like this, looking so...sad. Well, it made you sad. Him miserably clenching onto a heart shaped chocolate box, fat globs of tears cascading down his cheeks as he gawked at you with his pretty doe brown eyes.

You raised your hand, and Steven shut his eyes as he braced himself for the slap he very much deserved--only to be met with your soft palm, wiping away his tears tenderly.

"Explain to me, Steven."

♡•••🌙•••♡

The travel to Steven's apartment was spent in deafening silence, but it brought upon a strange sort of comfort. Unconsciously, you hugged Steven's black jacket that he had offered you earlier even closer to your much smaller frame. It soothed your nerves, being completely enveloped in his smell; fresh soap with a hint of musky cologne.

Once you reached his unit, you couldn't help but smile. It was just so...Steven. It was a bit messy, but a good kind of messy. You didn't really know how to describe it, but it warmed your heart especially when you saw a giant fish tank with only one goldfish.

"Cuppa tea?" Steven asked to which you shook your head, facing him fully.

"No. I'm a 'get over it' kinda girl so whatever your explanation is, I'd rather we just nip it in the bud." You huffed before you halted, biting your lip. "Oh, uh, sorry... Of course, if you wanna have tea, you can. It's your home, after all."

Steven laughed, his first real laugh that entire day. "Are you always this nice to blokes you should be mad at?"

"Only if they are really into Egyptology and have beautiful brown eyes and gorgeous curls." You rolled your eyes though you couldn't suppress your grin before you cleared your throat, getting a hold of your stupid giddy self. "Now, explain."

Steven's demeanour instantly shifted, serious now and quite uneasy. But he nodded and gestured towards the couch. You walked over and plopped down, Steven sitting next to you and keeping a respectful couple inches between the two of you.

He looked down at the ground, carefully considering his words before meeting your gaze solemnly. "Have you ever heard of dissociative identity disorder?" You nodded, previously learning about it in Psychology class and researching about it due to personal interest. "That's...what I have. I'm an alter within a system, and there are two others--Marc Spector and Jake Lockley."

"Am I correct to assume that when you asked me out...it wasn't actually you?"

Steven blinked, rather startled that you were taking this so well. "Yes. Jake was the one who asked you out."

"Was he also the one who didn't show up for the date?"

"No, that would be Marc." He grumbled. "And listen, I'm truly sorry about him. He's a right twit. It may not have been me who didn't show up, but that absolutely doesn't excuse the hurt it caused you. I am so, so sorry, Y/N."

Your brows furrowed, mulling over this new revelation. But...you believed him, especially when it explained all those times you secretly caught Steven muttering incoherently to himself or staring at his reflection and quietly reacting to something. You were curious about more, of course, but Steven didn't have any reason to lie about such a serious matter. And if he was lying, there were plenty of other things he could say. But the way he acted, and just the look in his eyes--he knew the risks of opening up to you, but he did it anyway.

You clasped his hands in yours, sighing. "I know I look calm right now, but trust me, I'm freaking the fuck out." You chuckled, and Steven felt safe enough to join you. "But... I trust you, Steven. And I believe you. Tell me one thing, though. Are you...into me? Like, at all?"

"Of course I am!" He replied in a flash, making you both pause before erupting into easy laughter. "Why would you even have to ask that, love?"

"It's just... Well, if Jake was the one who asked me out, it made me wonder if you really did like me." You mumbled, looking away.

Steven gently grasped your chin, tipping your face back towards him. "I've liked you since the day we met, Y/N. In your pink skirt and the cute little pigtails you had." He smiled, eyes so amorous and gleaming with sincerity. "Truth is, I've wanted to ask you out since forever. I'm just not as...forward as Jake is."

"And that's fine. But hey, we gotta thank him 'cause Lord knows I'd just spiral into a panic attack if I ever made the first move." You chuckled. But it gradually died down as Steven continued to stare at you, and you never thought you would ever have someone look at you the way Steven did; as if you were precious treasure hidden within a sacred tomb.

Slowly, ever so slowly, your body started moving of its own accord. You were leaning closer, closer, closer--a mere breath away from his lips before he piped up.

"I'm also Khonshu's Avatar!"

"Say what?"

"Um, well, you see--" He stammered, mentally slapping himself.

'Don't say anything, Steven.' Marc warned, and it took all of Marc's willpower not to seize control and actually slap Steven.

But it was too late now. Steven already said too much, but he wanted to be honest with you. Utterly so. And since you wanted to nip this in the bud, now was the best time more than anything.

"Erm... You've seen the news, yeah?" He didn't grant you the chance to respond as he rambled. "Masked vigilantes... Moon Knight and Mr. Knight? They're actually...Marc and I."

"Steven, this is--"

"I'll show you, Y/N. I'll summon the suit."

"Summon the soup? What is happening--"

Steven stood up, and a split second later there was a whirl of white. And sure enough, there was none other than one half of the mysterious heroes you've been seeing a lot on the news recently; his glowing white eyes locked with yours, crisp ivory suit and batons clutched tightly in his hands.

"Look, I know this is a lot to take in--"

"Handsome..." You blurted out before you can restrain yourself.

"Huh?" Steven blushed underneath the mask, and you were the same as your cheeks tinted crimson. Then you rose from the couch, closing the gap between you two and removing his mask.

His curls stuck every which way and his eyes were as wide as the full moon, making you giggle. "You're so handsome, Steven. And yeah, this is a fucking lot to take in. To be honest, a part of me is still wondering if this is all just a dream." You reached up, caressing the side of his face sweetly and smiling. "But...thank you. Thank you for being honest with me."

His batons dropped to the floor, trembling hands hesitantly settling on your hips. You noticed his Adam's apple bob as he looked down at you, tears once again glistening in his eyes. Happiness, relief, adoration--how can so many exhilarating emotions crash over him all at once?

"Can I be more honest?" He whispered, resting his forehead against yours as he gazed deeply into your eyes. "I...want you to stay with me."

Your cheeks hurt from how impossibly wide your smile has stretched, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling his nose with yours.

"I'm staying whether you like it or not, Steven with a V."

[localplaguenurse]

Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone x Male Reader) pt 6

So ever since my last update, I've gotten a new laptop because deadass the same day I posted chapter 5 like "oh hopefully I'll get it back soon," they told me my old acer aspire is so old they don't even make the parts for it anymore. This has nothing to do with the fic, I just thought it was funny.

Notes: still sfw, semi dysfunctional/controlling family dynamics (I assure you they will get progressively worse), ableism in the form of reader being coddled and patronized by his parents. Check masterlist for previous parts, will eventually make an actual masterlist for this fic.

@thedeimoshimself @eli-chris

You did not immediately tell your parents about your interaction with Pantalone when you finally returned, as once again they were in the midst of an argument. Your mother’s scoldings about how your father knows better, and your father’s arguments about how you’re a grown man who should fend for himself by now could be heard the moment you stepped through the door. Colleen gives you an awkward, sympathetic smile as you shuck off your coat. Before the maid can hang it up, you fish the letter from your pocket, and seeing your name in the Guuji Yae’s handwriting fills you with nervous excitement once more. 

You can’t really hear the fighting from your study. If you try to listen, you can, but otherwise it is very peaceful. You open the letter again and set it next to your typewriter, while also tucking the briefcase with your manuscript under your desk. You proceed to load your typewriter, ready to type a response, when it occurs to you that maybe you should hand write this letter. Would it be disrespectful to just type a letter? Maybe. A handwritten letter is more personal, after all. 

By the time you finish your letter, there are six other letters crumpled up in your bin, and you hear your mother’s voice informing you that it’s dinner time. The tense atmosphere of dinner keeps you from talking, let alone telling your parents about Pantalone. You really don’t want to set off yet another argument with how much these two have grown apart. As horrible as it is to think or say, you will not be surprised if the word divorce comes up in their next fight, and that next fight is probably tomorrow. 

This tense silence continues the next day, and the day after that, until a full two weeks have passed where you have not heard a single argument. Not because your parents made up, mind you, but because they have barely spoken to each other. Nothing beyond standard small talk or informing the other person about meals or receiving something in the mail. The air is oppressive, and you try not to let it show how much it is starting to stress you out. Instead, you have been waiting patiently for a letter back from the Guuji, hoping to surprise them with some good news for once. 

(You’ve also been replaying your last interaction with Pantalone in your head, because you know you did not mishear him.)

The silence breaks when your father throws your bedroom door open one morning, when you are in the midst of getting changed out of your sleepwear. 

“You!”

You jump, having just put on your pants. Your face heats up in embarrassment. “Would it kill you to knock?” you snap. It’s not even ten. 

You hear your mother somewhere behind your father. “Darling, calm down.”

Your father storms inside and an envelope is shoved in your face. “Do you care to explain this?”

You step back and take the envelope. You rub your eyes, shoot your dad a dirty look, and read the envelope. That’s your name and address, but you don’t recognize the return address in the corner. The name, however, you do recognize, and your father does too.

“Why is it that I haven’t had contact with the Regrator in two weeks,” your father asks, “but when I finally get a letter back, it’s for you?”

“Yes, why is Pantalone writing to you?” your mother asks in turn. 

Your brow furrows, and with your father glaring daggers at you, you break the seal on the back of the letter. Before you can actually open it, your dad snatches the letter from you. He tosses the envelope aside and unfolds the paper within. 

“Hey!” You grab your father’s arm. “If you’re going to barge into my room, at least let me read my own mail!”

“There has to be some mistake,” your father says. “There’s no reason for the Regrator to talk to you.”

“While I disagree with his approach,” your mother says, “your father has a point.”

“Maybe if you let me read my mail, I could tell you,” you reply sarcastically. Your father rolls his eyes but hands the now crinkled letter back to you. You straighten it out and let your eyes scan over the words.

Your father’s voice is impatient. “Well?” 

You squint. “It’s an invitation.”

“An invitation?” your mother asks.

“What the hell for?” your father asks.

“An invitation for tea,” you answer, “for… tomorrow, at two.”

“Anything else?”

You flip the paper over. It’s blank. You flip it back over. “No, it’s just tea at two at his estate.”

“No, you fool,” your dad says, pulling the letter out of your hand again. “I meant if he mentions your sister or myself, because I find it hard to believe he’d invite you to his estate.”

You cross your arms. “Why’s that?”

“Your father means it’s odd that you would be invited over when you are not, ah, working with him,” your mother says, making up an excuse on the fly. “You’re not working with your father and sister, so if you were to be invited over, then that would include the rest of the family.” Though she’s out of your limited line of vision, you know she’s glaring at your father based on the way he averts his eyes from you.

“Then why is it addressed to him? It doesn’t address anyone else in the family.”

“I’m not sure, dear. Perhaps there’s been a mistake?”

“Pantalone would not make a mistake like this. Perhaps the post office lost our invites, but not his.”

“Or he just invited me,” you butt in.

Your father gives you a look. 

“Think about it,” you say, “if we all got an invite, surely mine would have said something about it, right? Hope to see you and your family, or something along those lines.”

“Perhaps mine would have it,” your father retorts, “as he’s my business partner.”

More like marriage partner at this point, you think and know better than to say. “You’re also assuming this has anything to do with work,” is what you say instead. “What if it’s just tea?”

“No, a man like him wouldn’t invite someone over for just tea,” your mother says. 

Your father goes to put your invitation in his pocket, but gives it back to you when your mom gives him a look. He clears his throat. “Well, we’ll have this sorted when we visit tomorrow.”

You blink. “Wait, what?” 

“We’re not going to just turn down this invitation,” your father says, as if you’re an idiot for not understanding what he was getting at. 

“We? We?”

“That’s right,” your mother chimes in, “we really shouldn’t go if we don’t know his intentions.”

“That’s not…” You groan, annoyed. You point at your father. “You aren’t on the invite.” You turn and point to your mother. “And we’ve talked about the coddling.”

Your mother shakes her head. “That was about when he visits us, I don’t want you alone at his estate.”

“No, no, we’re not getting into the semantics,” you say, “I have told you time and time and time again to stop treating me like I’m seven! I should be allowed to go have tea with someone else by myself.”

“Watch your tongue,” your father snaps, “and our decision is final. If you want to go to the Regrator’s for tea, then your mother and I are going as well.” He turns to walk off, and stops in the doorway. “And put a damn shirt on.”

The door slams shut, leaving you and your mother in your room. She offers you an apologetic smile, and gets the hint you want space when you pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh. Her exit is much quiet, a soft apology and a gentle closing of the door. 

It takes you a moment, but you manage to find the envelope your father carelessly tossed aside. It slid most of the way under your bed, only the corner of it is immediately visible. You pick it up and feel your heart thump in your chest.

So this is what your name looks like in his handwriting.

----

While the novelty of Pantalone’s social status has worn off, the estate that comes into view through the snowstorm is a reminder of his intimidating wealth. It’s a beautiful building, and significantly larger than your family home. Your eyes are glued to the sight of it through the covered sled’s window. You can also just see your mother looking at it as well through the reflection of the glass. 

“Remember what we talked about,” your father says, and you make a face of annoyance similar to the face your mother’s reflection makes. “Hey, are you listening?”

“Don’t touch, trip on, or break anything,” you reply, “and only speak when spoken to. I’m aware of the whole routine.”

“And watch the attitude.”

“And you remember what I told you,” you reply, not bothering to turn your head. “If it turns out Pantalone didn’t invite you over, you need to leave.”

“Look at me when you talk to me.”

There’s a thump. Your mother most likely gave your father a nudge with her foot. Silence takes up the last few minutes of the ride as it slows to a stop right outside the snowy steps. You slide over to the opposite end of your seat and open the door, sucking all the warmth out of the sled. You make no effort to wait for your parents before you step down from the stairs. The snow pelting you in the face diminishes your vision, so you only make it a few steps before you trip on the first step. You catch yourself before you tumble forward and smash your teeth into the stairs. 

You hear your mother’s voice from the sled. “Please be careful!” 

You shout back that you’re fine, and climb up the stairs. Pantalone must have just had the steps cleared off before the blizzard hit, as there’s no crunch beneath your feet, merely the puff of snowflakes puffing out of the way with each step you take. Your father calls for you to wait for them as you stand before the door. You grab one of the large knockers and give it a few hard knocks on the door.

You feel your father’s firm hand on your shoulder just as a gust of heat rushes out and envelops you. You find yourself standing face to face with an older gentleman dressed in pristine servant’s attire. The two of you lock eyes, and for a moment he offers a welcoming smile before he notices you’re not alone, then it becomes confusion.

“Oh, hello there,” he says, “this is a little unexpected.”

“We’re here for tea with the Regrator,” your father butts in before you can even open your mouth.

“I had assumed as much, but I was told we were expecting a single visitor,” the man says. He brings his gaze back to you. “Now, you fit the description, but these two–”

Somewhere behind the man, you hear Pantalone’s voice. “Fyodor, what’s going on? Why have you not let our guest inside?”

The man turns around to address his master. “Apologies, my lord, but there seems to be some sort of… misunderstanding?”

You hear heeled footsteps descending a flight of stares and across the floor before your host comes into view. You feel yourself salivate and swallow it down quickly. You’re so used to seeing him in mostly black clothing, so the white lace up shirt with puffy sleeves immediately catches your eye. It’s tucked into a pair of black corset pants, which you make a point to not look at either. His hair is not tied back, and the chain on his glasses seems different. Though he still has his rings, he’s not wearing his gloves. Even in more “casual” attire, the Regrator is the pinnacle of wealth and beauty.

This very beautiful man tilts his head at the sight of your parents, namely your father. “What are you doing here?”

“You… You invited us to tea,” your father says.

“No I didn’t.”

Your father is quiet, and you turn yourself to see the confusion on his face. “You sent an invitation, i-it had our address on it.”

“Yes, and I believe I put your son’s name on it, did I not?” Pantalone asks. When you turn back around to him, you find he’s looking right at you. 

“You did, b-but I presumed you… you forgot to mention us, or maybe the invitations for my wife and I got lost in the–”

Pantalone lifts his hand, silencing your father. “If that were the case, I would have either addressed it to your family as a whole on the envelope, or I would have mentioned it in the invitation itself. Likewise, I did not send this through the post office, I had one of my staff deliver it personally.”

“But, b-but I’m your business partner!”

Pantalone turns to you. “Did you invite them with you?”

You stumble on your words, feeling too humiliated to answer honestly. What’s worse, saying yes, or saying no, but your parents wouldn’t let you leave unless they came along like they were chaperoning a child’s first field trip or playdate? You manage a shake of your head, and fortunately Pantalone seems to understand your plight after having many interactions with your family.

He sighs, and steps aside. “You’ve already made the trip, and the weather is taking a turn for the worst,” he relents, “you may come in.”

Your father pushes past and marvels at the interior of Pantalone’s estate. Your mother gives you an assuring pat on your shoulder. Pantalone whispers something to Fyodor, who nods and goes to help your parents with their coats.

The door shuts behind you, and you turn to Pantalone. You clasp your gloved hands together and lower your voice. “I am so sorry, I tried to tell them–”

“I know,” he replies in a voice as soft as yours, “perhaps I should have seen this coming, but I didn’t think I would need to be more specific in the invitation.”

With that, Pantalone stands up and claps his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Once you’re all settled, please follow me for a short tour on the way to the tea room.” He turns to Fyodor, who is carrying your parents’ coats. “Fyodor, please be a dear and let the chefs know to prepare some extra refreshments for our unexpected company.”

Fyodor nods, and you give him your coat before he leaves. Your mother is already hovering right next to you protectively, and Pantalone gives you a subtly sympathetic smile, which your mother seemingly interprets as an underlying threat judging by the way she wraps her arm around yours. You imagine your father is rolling his eyes.

The tour is short as promised, only staying in any given room long enough for Pantalone to state what the purpose of it is. You pass through the dining room, where Pantalone points out the doors to the kitchen, before you’re in a corridor passing by a ballroom entryway. You try to have a look at the oddly macabre paintings your host has displayed on the walls, but your mother is practically dragging you along so she can get this event over with quicker. You want to ask questions about what the chandelier in the foyer is made of, but your father already asked that in his never ending ramblings of praise for Pantalone and probably isn’t going to stop so you can actually ask the man anything.

Your father finally shuts up and your mother lets your arm go when the four of you step inside the tea room. Something you notice immediately is, while there are paintings on the walls, a table in the centre of the room, and a large cabinet with various tea sets, there is actually very little decor and furniture here. You passed by some sculptures and house plants and other miscellaneous extravagant pieces on the way, but the small room is oddly empty compared to the corridor just outside. 

When Pantalone takes a seat, your parents end up taking a seat on either side of him. Your father is immediately praising the barely furnished room, while your mother acts as barrier. As such, you end up seated across from him. On cue, you hear two people come in through the door behind you. You hear a soft squeaking, and a servant pushing a cart with a tea set on top of it. The porcelain teapot and cups have a vaguely floral pattern, with the handles shimmering with gold leaf. You jump when the second person, another servant, comes up beside you with a tray of food to place on the table. Your father marvels as they get to work setting the table, your mother politely thanks the staff, and you just sit still as your cup of tea is poured.

“This is quite lovely, Pantalone,” your father says for the millionth time, “really, I expect nothing less from you!”

Pantalone gives your father a smile, a polite gesture that does not reach his eyes. “I’m flattered.” When he looks your way, his smile seems fonder. “How about you? You seem to have something on your mind.”

“Oh! Um…” You lean back and glance around the room once more. “I was just… curious about your decor.”

Pantalone tilts his head curiously. “Oh? And what would you like to know?”

You hesitate to answer out of fear you would offend the man.

“Well? Out with it,” your father remarks.

“This room is a little bit… um…”

“Bare?” Pantalone finishes. “Yes, I had some of the furniture moved around in preparation for your arrival.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your eye condition,” he answers, “you said you used to trip on furniture because you didn’t see it, correct? I figured with a room this size, it would be safer to move some of the decor out of the room while you were visiting.”

“Oh, that’s… actually rather sweet,” you say, “b-but unnecessary. I’m not as clumsy as I used to be.”

“Ah, yes, my suit can attest to that fact.”

You chuckle.

Your father chimes in. “Yes, it’s better we avoid any more expensive accidents.”

Pantalone hums. “While I would rather avoid paying for a replacement or repair job, I was more focused on ensuring your son’s safety. I would hate for my guest to get hurt at an event I invited him to.”

You pick up on his passive aggressive comment, and your father does not. That, or he’s elected to ignore it. “Ah, that too,” your father says. He gestures to your mother. “I would have never heard the end of it if that were the case!”

Your father was expecting someone to laugh. He is ignored by Pantalone and gets glared at by your mother. You just grab a couple pastries, honestly wishing you had just turned down the invite altogether.

Your father clears his throat. “So, about that thing I-I had proposed a few weeks ago–”

“How is the book deal?” Pantalone asks you.

“O-Oh,” you stammer, not expecting him to bring up your book, “well, I’ve decided to go for it, and I’ve written back saying I would like to move forward with the deal. Now I’m just waiting for them to get back to me.”

Pantalone smiles and nods. “That’s lovely to hear.”

Your mother looks at you, confused. “What is he talking about?”

Fuck. You swallow, and nervously, sheepishly smile. “Right, um… I was, ah, saving this for when the deal was finalized, but my book might be getting published now.”

“By who?”

“... The Yae Publishing House.”

Your mother’s squeal could shatter porcelain. “The Yae Publishing House?! Sweetheart, that’s amazing! Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

You awkwardly laugh, avoiding Pantalone’s knowing gaze. “They’re just s-such a big deal, you know? I didn’t want to get your hopes up before I knew for certain they were going t-to publish the book.”

“Still, you could have at least told me you sent your book to them! Oh, goodness, I’m getting all worked up now. My sweetheart, being published by the Guuji Yae…”

Pantalone chuckles. “Yes, quite exciting. It warms my heart to see hard work being recognized.”

“I’m very excited,” your mother says, “he hasn’t told me what his new book is about, he keeps telling me to wait until it gets published. I was worried I’d never get to read it when your first deal was cancelled!”

You sheepishly rub the back of your neck. “This one’s kind of, well, different from my usual writing. I wasn’t sure how people would react to it.”

“Your stories are lovely, sweetie,” your mother insists, “you should never worry about what your mother thinks because I will always support you.”

You hear your father lean over in his chair towards Pantalone, and in a room of four people, his whisper is very audible. “He was worried he would have to get a real job, haha.”

“Which would be difficult given my disability,” you add, “seeing as most jobs require you to have awareness of your surroundings, and my eyesight is only going to continue degrading.”

Your father glares, and clears his throat. “... It was a joke.”

“And it wasn’t very original.”

“You’re also one to talk, considering our little deal,” Pantalone remarks. Your mother looks at your father for an explanation, to which he just sips his tea, embarrassed. 

The rest of the afternoon isn’t less awkward. The momentary embarrassment does not stop your father from badgering Pantalone with questions about what he’s been doing the past two weeks (settling some financial matters in Liyue), and praising him for the pastries he’s provided. Pantalone answers out of politeness, but his responses grow shorter and shorter every time your father opens his mouth. Your mother just silently eats, disinterested in conversing with the Regrator. You try to engage in conversation with Pantalone, but despite glares from everyone at the table, your father continues to interrupt you or answer questions Pantalone could not have more clearly directed towards you. You also just keep your answers short, not wanting to divulge too much about your book or true thoughts in front of your parents. 

Your father pops the last cream puff in his mouth. He’s already eaten most of them. There is no more tea, bringing the meeting to a close.

Pantalone claps his hands together. “Well, this has been a meeting!”

“We appreciate the invitation, Lord Pantalone,” your father says.

“What invitation?” Pantalone asks. “Remember? You two never received an invite.”

“... Right.”

Pantalone leans forward, propping his head up in his hands. He’s looking right at you, and he smiles so sweetly. “Would you care to stay for dinner?”

“Oh, we couldn’t possibly overstay our welcome.”

Pantalone nods, acknowledging your father. He then looks back at you. “So? Would you care to stay?”

“We just said no,” your mother says.

“That’s fine, you two are free to leave. I’m talking to your son.”

Your mother and father lock eyes, before your father turns back to Pantalone. “Wait, why are you asking him if he wants to stay, but not us?”

Pantalone sighs, and grins at your father. “Well, I think I’ve played host to you two long enough, so I’ll tell you honestly.” At that, Pantalone drops his smile. The atmosphere immediately grows tense as he speaks, his voice cold. “I invited your son to my home because I wanted to discuss his upcoming book over tea. I did not invite you over to discuss work matters on my day off. Now, I would like to have the discussion I cleared my schedule for, and I would like to do it with the guest I actually invited.”

Your father balks, while you feel your jaw drop to the table and your eyes go as wide as saucers. You slowly turn towards your mother, and she is immediately seething. She stands up, her chair scraping on the floor. Pantalone smiles at you once more.

“So will you be staying for dinner? I have many questions about your writing process.”

“I–”

“Absolutely not,” your mother snaps. She grabs your arm hard and attempts to pull you up to your feet. Your father is torn between being shocked over being called out for his behaviour, humiliated for being scolded like a child, and incensed that your invitation did not extend towards him. Your mother tugs your arm again, and you stand up so you can better shake her off your arm.

“We’re leaving,” your father says. “Come along, you two.”

You brush some crumbs off your lap and sit back down.

Your father shakes your shoulder. “Didn’t you hear me? I said we’re leaving.”

“Have fun,” you reply dryly, “I’ll be home late.”

Pantalone absolutely beams. “Oh, wonderful!”

You flinch at your mother’s shrill voice. “No, you’re not! I am not leaving you with this disrespectful–”

“Violka, he has made up his mind,” your father growls. You feel him glaring daggers into the back of your head, and do not move. You hear your mother start to protest, but then the door shuts behind you.

Pantalone lifts a small plate up off the table. On it is the final little piece of cherry bublanina. He offers it to you with a sly smirk, like forbidden fruit. 

With this in mind, you take it.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

God loves a trier though, right? | Inner Demons

⟫ Alphabet Challenge, G - God loves a trier though, right?

Pairings: leah williamson x teen reader, arsenal wfc x teen reader

Hi, sorry for the wait on this. This is a bit scrappy, not been proofread at all and I'm currently battling a headache while writing this so apologies if it doesn't make much sense, like at all!

I'm overwhelmed by the amount of support on this. It's definitely become one of my favourite things to write!

As always, my asks are open for anyone to drop me any ideas’ on this fic or anything else that people would like to see be written, however, I am only comfortable writing anything platonic though :)

Reader returns from the hospital, which leads to a heart-to-heart with some usual classic teenage sarcasm.

TW: heavy angst and mentions of SH, MH, suicide and death.

"Home sweet home" Leah pulls the car into the driveway and turns off the ignition, turning to look at you.

You fake a smile in the blonde's direction as you tug at the sleeves of your hoodie to fight the urge. "Glad to be home" You speak quietly.

You knew going home wasn't going to be as easy as you thought it would be, the reminder was right there in front of you.

A reminder of what you did, what could have been your end.

Until Leah had walked in and saved you.

You didn't really want to die, the voices on the internet were just too much to deal with.

The hate from the fans. The pressure from the media.

At times, everything can be overwhelming. But, being home makes it easier to regain control of being able to hurt yourself.

If you're being honest, that really does scare you.

The vague memory from that night still haunts you as you walk through the flat, sending a chill up your spine.

"Bubs?" Leah calls out to you, as she watches you freeze as you pass the bathroom.

"Uh, I'm... I'm a bit tired. Think I'm gonna have a nap" You tell her, slowly moving in the direction of your bedroom.

"Alright, I'll go and cook us some dinner. I doubt you've eaten much in the last few days if hospital food is anything to go by huh?" Leah jokes as she presses a light kiss to the top of your head. "Have a good nap, I'll wake you up when it's ready, yeah?" She adds.

Slumping into your own space, you glance around your bedrom and you're glad to see it's exactly how you left it.

You had missed your private space when you was in the hospital and you're just glad enough that the blonde hadn't gone to the extreme measures of removing your bedroom door at least.

"So the girls wanted to come around tonight but I thought it was best to hold off for now" Leah slides the dinner plate in front of you, you can't help but smile when you see it's smiley faces and nuggets.

One of the only things that Leah can actually cook.

You actually missed the small things like that while you were on an extended stay in the hospital.

"Sure" You agree as you reach for the ketchup bottle and squeeze a decent amount on your plate. "I'll be able to see them tomorrow at training, won't I?" You ask.

"Bubs" You can tell Leah is cautious to speak.

"I can train, can't I?" You look directly at the blonde as you await her answer.

Although you have a feeling that you're going to be sitting on the sidelines for a while.

"I have to train, Le! I can't put it off. I've gotta be ready to be selected for the matchday squad!" You insist as you stab your fork into a chicken nugget.

You watch as Leah frowns and hesitates to speak and that confirms your thoughts about it.

"We have a meeting tomorrow with Jonas, Kim, and some of the other staff at the club to discuss things--" Leah begins to explain, starting to eat her own dinner.

"I'm being sidelined?!" You interject in disbelief.

Leah shakes her head as she swallows her food before she speaks. "I didn't say that, Y/N" She states.

You can't help but scoff. "But you sort of did. I can't be sat on the bench-- I can't do it!" You try to insist. "I... I need some kind of purpose. I need a reason to get up in the morning!" You fight back the tears that threaten to spill.

You have to play. You have to be able to do that. You can't have that taken away from you.

"Bubs, let's just see what is said tomorrow. Okay?" Leah frowns and tries to take hold of your hand as you snatch it back.

"I have to be on the pitch, Leah. I can't be sidelined. I... I just can't do it" You state as you push your chair back and bolt up from the table.

"Where are you going?" Leah asks, confused.

"I need to get out. I'm going for a walk, or is that not allowed now?" You sneer as you move to walk over to the coat rack and grab one of your jackets.

"I'll come with you" Leah stands up from the table.

You huff and roll your eyes. "I don't need to be monitored. I want to be alone" You all but plead with her.

"I... I can't let you do that. You know I can't" Leah shakes her head in disagreement. "So we either go for a walk together, or we don't go at all" She states sternly.

"Guess we're both going then, wonderful" You mumble sarcastically and shove a pair of trainers on.

"It's cold out here this evening" Leah mumbles as she tries to pull her jacket more around to try and get warm, you decide to take a walk alongside the canal not too far away from the flat as you always thought clearer when you were near water.

"You didn't have to come with me" You mutter as you keep your hands shoved in your pockets.

You'd never been too much of a fan of the cold, but you just needed an escape as you felt like the walls were caving in around you being inside the flat.

"You know that I did" Leah replies quietly, exhaling a sigh.

"Oh yeah, of course, that's cos' I'm on suicide watch, right?" You can't help but joke with the blonde.

Leah tenses up at the mention of the subject that's joked about so casually as the two of you walk alongside the canal.

The blonde can't help but try and reach for your bicep to try and pull you away from being too near to the edge of the water.

"You can relax a bit Le, I'm not gonna try and off myself again" You continue to crack jokes about death like you're talking about the weather. "Although jumping into the water seems like a great idea" You add.

The blonde clicks her tongue. "I wish you wouldn't say things like that sometimes" She states in disagreement as she hesitantly looks at the water, trying to pull you back from the edge.

"It's the easier coping method" You quietly admit as you shrug your shoulders as you linger dangerously close to the edge of the water. "How deep do you think it is?" You ask, looking in the direction of the blonde.

"Come away from the water" Leah tries to pull you away from the edge again.

"Why? Afraid I'll actually jump in" You fire back as you can't help but laugh slightly. "You know I can swim, right?" You ask her.

"I know you can swim, but..." Leah looks nervous as she eyes your every move.

"But you think I'd rather try and purposely drown instead?" You wonder, already knowing her answer.

Leah shakes her head and exhales a sigh. "Y/N" She states in a knowing tone of voice that you knew all too well.

"The pressure is too much sometimes, the media... They can be ruthless" You admit quietly, looking back out to the water in front of you.

"I know" Leah replies just as quiet, waiting for you to speak again.

You tug at the sleeves of your hoodie and bite your bottom lip. "It's all too much sometimes. Sometimes I think the world is against me" You tell her, honestly.

"Bubs..." Leah starts to speak.

"Why were you and Katie fighting when I was in the hospital?" You change the subject, refusing to let your vulnerability show.

Leah exhales another sigh. "It's complicated" She says.

"Bullshit" You can't help but scoff and roll your eyes.

"Language" The blonde scolds.

"Well, why aren't you?" You repeat the question, wanting to know the answer.

"Well, adults have disagreements sometimes" Leah states, looking out to the water.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "C'mon Le, I'm a not naive kid-- Why're you not getting along?" You feel like you're constantly repeating yourself right now.

Leah exhales a sigh and hesitates to speak. "She just thinks that my decision was wrong, to allow the doctors to detain you in the hospital" She explains.

"I know that. You guys were literally fighting about it right in front of me" You remind her with the usual teenage cocky attitude you have.

"She thinks you should've been at home instead, with all of us watching out for you" The blonde defender continues to explain. "But Y/N... I don't know how I can keep you safe when you're at home. You joke about death so casually, I'm so scared that I am going to have to leave you alone, that when I come home, I'll find you lying dead on the floor in a pool of your own blood. At... At least this way when you were in the hospital, I knew you were safe and you couldn't hurt yourself" She confesses the truth.

The truth that leaves an eerie silence.

"I knew you were safe and you couldn't hurt yourself" Her words were like a continuous loop in your head.

Her confession hits you suddenly, leaving you feeling numb.

[toomuchracket]

all i want for christmas (birthday party!matty x reader fluff)

back from the dead (a depressive episode) with a fluffy pre-dating fic that's honestly longer than it needs to be. whatever. it's christmas. this fic is also part of christmas75/twelve days of christmas, organised and curated by my lovely friend @abiiors. hope you all enjoy <3

wednesday, 3:34am

as soon as the “email sent” pop-up appears, you feebly close your laptop and lay your head on the desk, ready to finally give in to the sleep that's been edging ever closer to your eyelids for the past hour. but before you get the chance, your phone buzzes with an incoming notification, the vibrations rattling through the wood of the desk and into your skull.

swearing, your voice scratchy with underuse, you open one eye and tilt the screen towards you - the name it bears above the unread text makes you shoot back up to a sitting position, and knocks all traces of grumpiness and tiredness from your brain and body.

matty.

pointedly ignoring the butterflies in your stomach when you see he's opened his message with hi, darling, you continue reading: hope you're alright, and that the new book isn't kicking your arse too much. saw a group of kids in barnes & noble raving about your last one earlier. would've joined them if i wasn't in a hurry, to be honest. fucking brilliant. anyway, i know it's late, but i had to text you before i forgot. can you give me a call when you get this, darling? flying home early tomorrow so i'll be up from about… 8am your time? i've got a favour to ask you. nothing crazy, though, and nothing urgent. but yeah, just phone me when you can. thanks, darling. miss you, talk to you soon. bye! X

just as you're reeling from the three darlings and the kiss and the miss you, another text from your best friend comes in, accompanied by a photo: also look at who you were next to on this display. i got so excited. my three favourites!

you laugh out loud, a combination of shock at the fact your collection is between slouching towards bethlehem and consider the lobster and adoration at matty's beaming face next to it all. fuck, he's cute.

so cute. enough for you to forget that it’s 3 o'clock in the morning, and happily pick up your phone and dial his number - you've spent so much time poring over your message threads that you know it off by heart - as if it was mid-afternoon. you kick your legs back and forth as the call connects, smiling to yourself at the thought of hearing his voice for the first time in over a month.

luckily, you don't have long to wait; your heart flutters as he picks up on the second ring, voice thick in the way it only goes when he's smoking. “you know, you didn't have to call me right away, darling. thought you'd have been asleep. but hiya!”

“hi, matty,” you smile. “and come on, it's deadline week, of course my sleep schedule is fucked. questioning why i'm not asleep, christ, thought you knew me better than that.”

he takes your teasing in good faith. “i do, darling, i do know you,” matty's voice is soft, his tone as tender as you've ever heard it. it's driving you batshit insane. “but you know me. i just want to make sure you're not stressing yourself out about your work too much. rather have my best friend's wellbeing intact than another book, even though your writing is my favourite. speaking of, that display! i'm recreating it at home. genuinely. s'amazing.”

you can feel your cheeks burning. “i can't even comprehend that display right now, m'too tired. but i’ll text you my thoughts once they make sense. and i'm alright, matty, honest. please don't worry about me, lovely.”

“that'll never happen, and you know it.”

“god, you're obstinate. but thanks. i appreciate the care.”

“even when you're insulting me, you're so eloquent. you've got a gift,” matty laughs down the phone. “how's deadline week going, anyway?”

“it's done. just sent the final draft away for edits. s'why i'm still up, actually.”

“really? congrats, darling!” the genuine happiness in his tone makes your heart hurt. “god, i wish i was home now, so we could go out and celebrate.”

“me too. but we'll see each other this weekend for early christmas dinner, yeah?”

“that's what i wanted to talk to you about, actually. you know those roast potatoes you made last year?”

“you mean the ones you and alexa fought over the last spoonful of?” you laugh, remembering the two of them racing to the tiny kitchen in your flat to try and nab them.

“m'still fucking fuming that she got them. bitch,” matty grumbles, then giggles. “nah, she's like my sister, i love her. but yeah, those potatoes. can i have the recipe for them, please?”

you suck air in through your teeth. “well… no. that’s a family secret, lovely. m'sorry.”

“oh,” matty sounds so genuinely deflated that you could cry - you seldom see him upset, but the thought of his pretty face all sad makes you feel incredibly guilty. “that's alright, darling, i understand. my nana was the same with her soup recipes. you'd have to marry me if you wanted them.”

you hum out a laugh, brain suddenly scrambled at the thought of walking down the aisle towards him. god. get a grip! 

scrunching your eyes closed and blinking them open again - a tried and tested way to stop yourself going off on tangents - an idea pops into your head, so obvious that you’re not sure why you haven't suggested it already. “well, in lieu of us getting hitched within the next week,” you smile, enjoying the way matty laughs softly at the other end of the line. “i could come over early to yours and make the potatoes for you, if you'd like?”

“i quite like the sound of the first option, to be honest…”

what the fuck?! you have to clap a hand over your mouth to stop a gasp. or a scream. perhaps even a moan.

“...but i'm more than happy with the second one. thank you, darling,” matty's smile is as audible as his relief. “you're a lifesaver and a legend. come over whenever on sunday, yeah? wake me up if you have to. actually, no, i'll pick you up. s'the least i could do to thank you. and it means we get to spend even more time together.”

“that sounds nice,” you all but sigh into your phone. “i'm excited to see everyone.”

mostly you, though.

“as am i, darling,” matty yawns. it's the cutest sound you've ever heard. for fuck's sake. “m'not bored talking to you, honest, just tired. this is actually the most fun i've had in weeks, this phone call.”

you want to assume he's lying out of politeness, but something in your brain tells you he's being sincere; it's not like you can say anything to dispute him, either, given it's also the most fun you've had in weeks. “matty, you’re in new york. at christmas time.”

“yeah, alone! s'boring. macaulay culkin made it seem a lot more fun when i was a kid,” matty snorts. “plus, i saw you the last time i was here. any trip you're not on is just automatically a bad one.”

christ, what is with him today? “flatterer,” you smirk, before grimacing and continuing to talk. “but i assume you've not been… totally alone, the whole time? i don't like the thought of that being the case.”

you hope to god he's too tired to pick up on your actual meaning; the sight of him with another girl isn’t unfamiliar to you, but that isn’t to say you don't mind it. quite the opposite, in fact.

thank christ, he misses it. “no, i’ve been good. slept by myself every night,” he laughs.

you giggle, relieved. “really? wow.”

“why are you surprised at that?”

“you're you, matty.”

“yeah, well, i'm going through a metamorphosis-”

“kafkaesque of you.”

“knew that one was coming as soon as i said it,” matty sighs. “but in all seriousness, in the past couple of months, i've just… fully realised what i want in life, you know? and it's not what i used to want, or get up to.”

interesting. “well, that's good. m'happy for you, lovely.”

“yeah, thanks. and what about you, miss? you, um, bringing anyone to christmas dinner?”

you snort. “obvs not.”

matty hums. “why'd you say it like that?”

“like what?”

“like,” he pauses, trying to find the words. you can just picture the shape of his eyebrows as he does. “derisively. as if it's a silly question.”

“because it is a silly question, matty.”

“is it?”

“yeah,” you giggle. “i wouldn't even have time for a one night stand, let alone a relationship. not that there's anyone particularly interested, right now, anyway.”

“oh, there is,” comes the reply. “there really is.”

“if you say so.”

“believe me, darling, people want you. they're down bad. totally in love with you.”

“oh, you are so high right now, aren't you?”

“i mean, yeah. but i'm right!”

“uh huh,” you smirk. “i think you need your bed, matty.”

“pot, kettle.”

“alright, point taken,” you peel yourself off your chair, joints cracking slightly worryingly as you stand and pad across the flat to your room. “i'm going there now.”

matty sighs happily. “good. but send me a selfie as proof. accountability and all.”

it's an innocent enough ask, and not a totally unprecedented one - in the times where your self-neglect was at its worst, you would send matty and your other friends selfies so they could make sure you were alright - but the concept of sending matty a late-night pic from your bed does something quite odd to your brain and stomach.

still, you’ll oblige. but will he?

matty giggles when you ask him as much. “yeah, i'll send you one in return. i'm all about reciprocation, me.”

the words leave your mouth before you can stop them. “good to know.”

he laughs, that stupid hyena cackle of his that might be your favourite sound in the world. “christ, i've missed you.”

“it's reciprocated,” you smile, switching your phone between hands as you get into bed and hissing quietly at how cold the sheets are. “alright, i'm in my bed. and you should be too.”

“you're right, i should be,” matty says. his voice is lower than you've ever heard it, the rasp of his cigarettes prominent; despite yourself, it goes straight between your legs. “soon, though, darling. promise.”

“good,” your voice comes out breathier than expected, a setting you haven't used in some time. “i think we both need it.”

“yeah, i think we do, too,” matty yawns again, following it up with a sigh. “right. i'm going to hang up now, darling. i really don't want to, but i feel like if i don't then one of us is gonna fall asleep before we can exchange pics. and i can't be having that, honestly. miss looking at you.”

you giggle, rolling onto your stomach and kicking your legs back and forth. jesus christ, what is this man doing to you? “don't get too excited, i look like shit.”

well, you've looked worse lately - you at least showered and clipped your hair up and put on a clean outfit today. but still, far less glamorous than matty's used to.

or not - “i've literally held your hair back while you yoshed in a plant pot, darling, i think you're alright.”

“and on that note, let's wrap it up,” you laugh, rolling back to lie down. “what time should i be ready for on sunday?”

“oh, um… half twelve? that should be enough time to get everything sorted.”

“half twelve it is,” you yawn. “ok. bedtime. have a safe flight, lovely. talk soon?”

“‘course. don't forget that selfie, by the way. eagerly awaiting it.”

“et toi. lots of love, see you soon.”

“back at you, darling. goodnight.”

the call ends. you close your eyes and, for the briefest of moments, let yourself dwell on the fact your best friend - who, let's be honest, you have a bit of a crush on - shamelessly flirted with you to the point of bordering on phone sex, and let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, there's a chance he might feel the same way you do.

but it's matty. sweet, cheeky, affectionate matty, who'd find a way to flirt with a brick wall if he was bored enough. because that's what he is, really - bored, high, alone on a phone call with a girl late at night. it's just a natural thing for him to do in those circumstances. you're not special, you were just… there.

that notion stings more than you expected. but you persevere, opening your camera and fixing your glasses. he's your best friend, after all, and he asked you to do this to make sure you were alright. nothing more than that.

still, as you close your eyes and smile, you hold the phone with both hands so your boobs push ever so slightly more together. just in case. then you caption the pic as requested, and hit send.

matty’s reply buzzes in a few seconds later, eliciting a shocked giggle from your lips: fucking love it when you wear your glasses. a follow-up appears in another few seconds: if that's you looking like shit… you're defo the sexiest bit of shit i've ever seen.

fuck him for getting you flustered like this. honestly, fuck him.

and, oh, when he sends a selfie in return, shirtless in low light, hair in its natural state, one hand behind his head… don't you want to do just that?

you bite your lip as you compose your response: my condolences to the single girls in nyc who are missing out on you looking like that tonight.

matty: i know, poor them lol. but their loss is one specific single girl in london’s gain, though, yeah?

you: fuck yeah

matty: you crack me up

matty: miss you sm

matty: anyway, sweet dreams. see you in them, i hope

matty: but see you irl on sunday lol xx

you: miss you too, lovely. goodnight xx

***

sunday, 12:56pm

a mass of black fur rams into your legs as soon as you step through matty's front door. you laugh, dropping your bags and crouching to pet an over-excited mayhem, while matty grumbles behind you. “at least let her get in the house, mayhem, christ!”

“don't listen to him,” you coo at the dog, nuzzling into you quite adorably. “i'm just as happy to see you as you are to see me, baby. got a present for you and everything.”

“you did not buy the dog a christmas present,” matty groans, gently pulling the coat from your shoulders.

“of course i did. got you one as well.”

“thought we agreed we weren't doing presents this year?”

“well, i'm a dirty liar,” you brush down your dress and turn to face matty, smiling. “that, and i saw something when i was in glasgow that i couldn't resist getting you.”

matty's eyes widen near-imperceptibly as he takes in the dark red fabric clinging to you like a second skin, raking up and down your body almost too quickly for you to clock. 

almost. you bite back a smirk. got him!

much to your chagrin, though, he recovers quickly and turns the tables. “well, it's difficult to keep control when you see something… attractive,” he murmurs, gaze lifting to meet yours. “i like that dress, darling, you look gorgeous. and,” his tone and face brighten. “i actually got you a gift, too.”

the revelation is just as shocking as the way he looked at you is. “you did?”

“we're both dirty liars, it seems,” matty grins. he nods towards the kitchen. “make yourself comfortable in there, darling, and i'll go and get it. only be two minutes, promise, and then i'll help you find whatever you need, yeah?”

“you've not done a mad rearranging of your kitchen cupboards since the last time we all came over for dinner, have you?”

“nah.”

you wave nonchalantly. “then i'm good, i know where everything i need is.”

matty smiles down at you - there's an expression in his eyes that you can't quite name - and gently nudges you down the hall. his hand is light against your back, but it sends shockwaves through your nervous system regardless. “alright. give me a shout if you need anything, though, please.”

“i will, lovely,” you smile back just as sweetly. “want me to put some christmas music on? get into the festive spirit and all?”

“anything but band aid.”

you laugh, and matty joins in. “i was thinking more sinatra, anyway.”

“perfect.”

and that's exactly how he'd describe the scene in the kitchen he walks into thirty minutes later. the room is warm, made cosy by the oven that's been slow-cooking turkey for a little while now, soundtracked by frank crooning out have yourself a merry little christmas. mayhem snoozes in his bed by the massive window, which shows snow dusting over the garden like icing sugar on a cake, and then there's you. still keeping an eye on the potatoes bubbling on the hob, you sway gently to the music as you pour dried spices and seasonings into a bowl, your face as content as matty feels.

it breaks into a big smile when you see him in the doorway, white dress shirt hugging his chest quite deliciously. “oh! you got changed. i like it.”

“had to keep up with you, didn't i?” matty smiles, wandering into the room and laying a gift bag on the counter. he peers into the pan of potatoes. “thank you for doing this, by the way, darling. means a lot.”

he opens his arms, and you slot into them before they wrap around you tightly, resting your chin on matty's shoulder and smiling. “no one else i'd do it for.”

matty hums happily. “god, i've missed you. you're always a total peach to me. makes me feel good.”

“a peach? you've spent too much time stateside, matty,” you giggle, pulling away just enough to look at him. “thank god you're home for a bit. but thank you, lovely, i'll take the compliment.”

“for once, you'll take one,” matty teases. his face turns slightly more solemn. “yeah, m'glad to be home. it's a shame you won't be at any of the UK shows, though. i always like them more when you're there.”

“well, when hollywood calls, you have to answer,” you shrug, then smirk. “you just want me at the shows so i'll praise your narrative structuring again, don't you?”

matty's eyes close in bliss. “don’t tease, you literally barrelling towards me backstage screaming about midpoints and how proud of me you were is genuinely the best thing that's ever happened to me.”

“oh, shush,” you roll your eyes, suddenly shy.

“i'm serious! it'd be like joan telling you she thought one of your sentences had perfect structure. a writing compliment from you is a gift, darling.”

“well… thank you. and speaking of gifts,” you - with great reluctance - pull away from matty, bending down to grab a wrapped box from your bag. “here. joyeux noël.”

your best friend takes the present from you, murmuring a “thank you” and smiling at the tag addressed to him. he holds it to his ear and shakes the box, eyebrows raising at the slight rattle.

sighing, you roll your eyes. “just open it, matty.”

his face lights up. “alright.”

after carefully peeling the tag from the box and placing it in his pocket, matty tears through the paper and lifts the lid off. he squints at the sides of the smaller plastic boxes inside, before realisation hits and his jaw drops. “this is…”

“cassette recordings of ten blue nile gigs throughout the eighties and nineties, in their entirety,” you finish, smiling. “thought you'd like them.”

“like them? darling, this is- i don't even know what to say, other than thank you,” matty looks at you, awed, and pulls you into another tight hug. “how the fuck did you manage to get them?”

“the guy in one of the record shops i went into in glasgow was selling them. they're his recordings,” you say, half into matty’s neck. “and he'd digitised them, so he didn't need the tapes anymore, and he wanted them to go to someone who'd genuinely use them. remembered you saying you'd bought a tape deck, and i know how much you love that band, so… i kinda had to buy them.”

matty turns his head and presses a kiss onto your temple; while you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from screaming in delight, he speaks again. “you really are one of the best people i know. christ, i'm so overwhelmed by how perfect that present is. i need a drink,” he pulls away and heads to the fridge. “d’you fancy some champagne, darling, before i give you your gift? you might need it, actually.”

“that's not ominous at all,” you quip, then nod. “pour me a glass while i sort the potatoes and get them in the oven, please.”

matty nods, pulling out a bottle of perrier and grabbing glasses to take over to the table, while you drain and pat-dry the potatoes. he hums along to the background music while he fiddles around with the foil covering the champagne cork; you smile, eyes flicking up periodically to look at his cutely confused face, then back down to the food you're currently buttering and seasoning. it's incredibly domestic, a cosy little christmas dinner tableau, so much so that it hurts your heart to think that life isn't always like this for you and matty. and mayhem, obvs, curled up so adorably in his bed that you have to resist awwwwing every time you look at him.

still, it's hard to be melancholy when matty's irritation at the bottle foil is so amusing. you giggle at his grumbling, turning around to look at him scowl once the potatoes are safely in the oven. “need a hand?”

“no thanks, darling, i'm- ok, yeah, please,” matty sighs, leaning back in his chair and stretching. you pretend not to notice the way his shirt rides up and exposes his hip tattoo. “can't find the tab on the foil.”

“hmm, let me see,” you wander to the table and sit beside matty, moving your chair closer to him. well, to the bottle. “ah - that's because there isn't one.”

“well that's fucking stupid. how are you meant to open it?”

you smile, swiping your index nail across the foil; it slices clean through, and you're able to peel the covering off the cork. “like that. these aren't just for aesthetic purposes, you know.”

“that was actually quite hot. let me see them?” matty gently takes your hand in both of his own, admiring the abstract line pattern on your fingernails, tenderly rubbing his thumbs over the gel. “yeah, definitely hot. let me open the champagne from here though, darling, yeah? can't risk these pretty nails being damaged.”

you bite the inside of your cheek again; this time, to stop from giggling flirtily. “have at it, lovely.”

“i like it when you call me that,” matty smiles, grabbing the neck of the bottle in one hand and the cork in the other, and slowly twisting. “makes me feel good.”

“well, you are lovely,” you smile back. “and opening that champagne quite effectively, i must say.”

“learnt from the best,” matty winks. “you're right, though, it's a lot less messy. although i don't mind that, sometimes. s'fun.”

“yeah, me too,” you smirk, glad to be sitting down and not having to worry about your legs caving in at matty and his words. “kinda fun getting it all over your hand, isn't it?”

matty's eyes widen again, and the cork breaks free with a loud pop; before either of you can cringe at or make light of it, though, mayhem jolts awake with a yelp at the sound, and quickly runs over to sit at your feet. 

you coo at him, reaching down to scratch his sweet head and reassure him (and berate his dad). “aww, mayhem. you scared the baby, matty! look at him, he's terrified! s'ok, sweetheart, i'll keep you safe. come on, you can have your christmas present to cheer you up.”

matty rolls his eyes, but he can't keep the smile from his face as he watches his dog eagerly follow you to your bag. “you know, mayhem, you're such a sap, honestly.”

“oi, don't talk about my friend like that,” you frown, face lighting up as you find what you're looking for in your bag. “aha! here you go, mayhem. merry christmas.”

the dog takes the guitar-shaped dog toy with relish, plodding back over to his bed and playing with it contentedly. matty leans to the side to look at mayhem's gift, bursting into laughter when he sees it. “fucking brilliant. that'll be his new favourite, by the way. but you're his favourite, so it checks out, i s'pose.”

“really?”

“oh, he loves you. he never gets so excited to see anyone else,” matty nods, pouring champagne and sliding a glass to you. “bet he'd enjoy seeing more of you. as would i, actually - i really like spending time with you, darling.”

you nod, touched. “so do i,” you raise a glass. “to seeing more of each other next year.”

matty clinks his glass off yours, repeating your words with a soft smile. you take a sip of your respective drinks, humming in satisfaction as the champagne hits your lips. you nod again as you swallow. “christ, that's good.”

“agreed. and now that we've had a drink,” matty puts his glass down, then leans back in his chair and reaches to grab your gift from the counter. he presents it to you with a grin. “merry christmas, darling. save the box til last, yeah?”

“ok. thank you,” you smile sheepishly, opening the bag and pulling out its contents: a notebook, with a pen tucked into the front cover, a book, and a thin, a4-size box. laying them on the table, you inspect each facet of the present in turn, starting with the notebook. “a parker pen? matty, this is beautiful.”

“that one's also kinda a congratulations gift for getting your manuscript in. there's a little message on the inside, too,” comes his reply. 

you flick your gaze up to find him blushing, and it makes you smile even wider. carefully, you lift open the black cover, and find matty's familiar scrawl on the inside: to my favourite writer… this is for the next one. lots of love, matty ♡. a little giggle leaves your lips, and you reach for your friend's hand to squeeze it. “you really are the loveliest, you know.”

“shhh, it's nothing,” matty softly rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. “the next bits are the good ones, really. m'excited to see you react to them.”

“better not keep you waiting, then,” you smile, reaching for the book; you let out a little cry of excitement when you read the title. “on beauty! i haven't read this since i was at uni, my god. thanks, matty, i can't believe you remembered me saying that! oh, this is amazing.”

“open it.”

your head shoots up. “what? why?”

matty smiles. “just do it, please.”

“alright,” you do as requested. when you see what’s on the title page, your jaw drops. “matthew…”

“oh, shit, the full name. am i in trouble?” matty quips, smirking as he takes another sip of champagne.

“no, no, just… you got zadie fucking smith to sign a book for me? with a personal message?” you all but sob, lip quivering, completely overcome. “she's telling me she loves my work? what the fuck?”

“well, she's got good taste.”

“matty,” you wail. “this is the best gift i've ever been given.”

matty giggles. “no it isn't.”

“i'm telling you, it really is.”

“nah,” matty gently tugs the book from your hands and replaces it with the box. “this might be, though. but you need to stop crying before you open it, though, darling. can i just…?”

tenderly, so tenderly, matty takes your face in his hands and uses his thumbs to carefully wipe the tears pooling on your lower lashline. at his touch alone, your breathing starts to regulate; the same can't be said for your heart or brain, which both go haywire at the intimacy of his actions, something not helped by him whispering reassuringly to you. “there you are, darling. you're alright.”

it's not a question, but you nod anyway. “thank you.”

“anytime,” matty lets go of your face and sits back; you miss him as soon as he lets go. “right. now you can open it.”

with a smile, you lift the lid from the box - it falters, though, as soon as you take in the words on the paper in front of you. “these are outlines.”

“yeah, they are. look closer, darling.”

you squint at the paper, a choked noise escaping your lips. “feel free… fuck off. zadie gave you her essay notes?!”

“she did. and told me to give them to you.”

“how?”

“well,” matty grins, shuffling in his seat. “i went to see her and nick while i was in new york, and i asked her to sign the book while i was there. when she found out it was for you… she insisted you have those. printed more off for me and everything. she thinks you're the shit, darling.”

“you're sure she didn't say i was shit?” you hiccup, sliding the box onto the table before your tears hit the paper and picking up your glass for a long drink.

“positive. she only had lovely things to say about you,” matty takes your glass and refills it, beaming at you. “so, yeah. bit of a weird present, i know, but i knew you'd appreciate it.”

you laugh through your tears, wiping your eyes and shuffling your chair next to matty's to hug him. “i really do. and i appreciate you even more. thank you, lovely, you're too good to me.”

“nah, you deserve the best, darling,” matty’s hand comes up to rest on the back of your hair, stroking it gently.

you wallow in the tender moment for a second, before pulling back to smile at him. “m'sorry for crying, christ.”

he shakes his head. “don't worry about it, s'cute. and you still look fit when you cry, so…”

“shut up,” you laugh, shoving his shoulder.

“really, you look perfect,” matty smiles, eyes soft. “m'glad you came over early today. not just because it means we get the good potatoes, but because we get to do this, have a bit of peace before everyone gets here. s'nice. really nice.”

you nod. “it is. thanks for having me. and for the gift.”

he kisses your hand. “anytime. thank you for my gift. and just for being you, i s'pose.”

“it's like you want me to keep crying.”

“well, like i said, you look fit,” matty grins. “but nah, i'll stop. let's have a nice time and get rid of this champagne before everyone else gets here, yeah?”

“sounds like a plan.”

so that's what you do - sit at matty's kitchen table, drinking champagne and watching mayhem playing with his new toy, talking and laughing with your best friend. outside, the snow falls faster and faster, blanketing the garden in pristine white, but it's falling nowhere near as quickly as you are for matty. when the front door goes, you’re actually welcome for the excuse to leave the table, the kitchen, the intense care in those beautiful eyes that threatens to shatter your sanity and perspective.

it's your newly engaged friends, laden with more champagne and christmas crackers. once you've exchanged pleasantries, your friend sends her fiancé into the kitchen with the bags so she can interrogate you. “now why are you here so early? you're a little bit unsteady on your feet… oh my god, did you and matty fuck?”

“no! christ! and keep your fucking voice down,” you hiss, looking back down the hall to make sure the coast is clear. “i came over early to help with dinner. and we opened champagne. that's it.”

her eyes narrow. “but you want to fuck him, don't you?”

you open your mouth to answer, but pause for a split-second too long; she cuts back in again. “oh, you do! well, you should.”

“i don't just want to fuck him, babe,” you sigh, leaning against the cold concrete wall. your brain is screaming at you to shut up, but you can't. “i… like him. in a more-than-platonic way. like in a deep way.”

“so… tell him that.”

you blanch. “today?”

“yes! it's christmas. we've all seen love actually - it's the perfect time!” she quietly claps, beaming. “and you won't see him again until my birthday dinner, so if the revelation goes tits up… you've got two months to get over it.”

“really filling me with confidence here.”

“sorry,” she kisses your cheek. “i just like the thought of the two of you being happy, that's all.”

“i know, it's just-”

“darling?” matty wanders down the hall to you, pulling your friend into a welcoming hug, then turning to face you. “sorry to interrupt, but your timer is going off.”

“oh, thanks, lovely,” you smile at him. “be in in a minute, yeah?”

“alright. looking forward to it,” with a wink, he's gone again.

your friend smiles at him, then turns to you. “he is looking forward to you returning to the same room as him. how interesting!”

“yeah, because it means we all get the roast potatoes i made. that's it.”

“oh, you made those again? amazing,” she nods appreciatively, then looks at you and tilts her head. “he could still just be looking forward to being in close proximity to you again, though. wonder if there's any mistletoe around.”

“shut up, please, i am literally begging.”

she laughs, tucking you under her arm and walking to the kitchen. “alright, i'll leave it be tonight. but i'm just saying - i think you have to seriously consider that matty might want you under his christmas tree this month just as much as you want him under yours.”

“and i think you have to seriously consider that you might be delusional.”

“well, we'll soon find out, i'm sure.”

[radiant-reid]

so i just read eleventh hour, and you want me to tell you what i think?

ILL TELL YOU WHAT I THINK. I THINK I NEED MORE DOMESTIC REID OR ELSE I MIGHT EXPLODE.

that was so fucking good, i might have to read it again and again and again!!!

i could write a book on domestic reid, but I'll start with this, and similar to the fic, it's expecting!dad!spence

One of the last things you expect to wake up to- at four in the morning- is the sound of the blender whirling in the kitchen.

Spencer hates being up early and he's never been one for smoothies so what he's doing up, probably blending fruit, is puzzling and slightly concerning.

You haul yourself out of bed, a task that's becoming harder and harder, and make your way to the kitchen, squinting as your eyes adjust to the light.

Your husband actually must have lost his mind, standing there in pajama bottoms and a shirt with an apron around his waist while he chops fruit. There are four pots on the stove as well as a tray in the oven and the blender is liquefying what looks to be sweet potato.

"Good morning." You say, startling him as you switch it off.

He turns around in surprise, relaxing when he sees it's you. "Did I wake you?" He asks.

"Yeah." You answer. "But I'm more worried about what you're doing up in the middle of the night cooking and blending fruit."

"Oh." He scratches the back of his neck and blushes like he's been caught doing something terrible. "Uh, I'm making puree."

"Are you anticipating losing the ability to eat?" You tease him, stepping closer and tucking yourself under his arm.

He chuckles, caressing his palm over your back. "No, it's for the baby." He tells you, touching your stomach with his other hand.

"You know they don't come out ready to eat anything but milk, right?" You check, raising your eyebrows.

He chuckles, nodding. "I know. It's just... we might not have time to get some when they're ready."

"We might not have time to go to the store just around the corner and buy baby food?" You clarify what it is he's saying. "So you're making puree, like, 9 months early?"

Spencer laughs, shaking his head. "It is a bit early."

"It's sweet." You assure him. There's no one more prepared to be a dad than Spencer, and this just proves it further. "And I love you. I'm just not sure this is a four-in-the-morning job, three months before the baby is born."

He leans down and kisses your forehead. "You're right." He agrees. "I'll clean it tomorrow, let's go to bed."

[golbrocklovely]

let's fall in love for the night // colby brock

A/N: wow, this fic felt like it took a decade to write. and fun fact, after finally finishing it (editing wise), come to find out it's one of my longest fics. not the longest, but one of them. so now it makes sense. so, the inspo for this fic is the song, and i hear it all the time at work. i love it a lot, and thought it was a good fic idea. hopefully that translate well. it's not a direct interpretation of the song, it's more just a couple of the lyrics at the beginning and end and the rest is vaguely related to the song. sorry this one doesn't have an outright happy ending, but i promise the next fic will be. please let me know what you think, and i'll see yall later :)

inspired by the song "Let's Fall in Love for the Night" by Finneas

prompt: it was simple idea: act like the two of you were dating for one night. what possibly could go wrong in just a couple hours? || colby brock x fem!reader

trigger warnings: light smut (but no sex), pretend dating, angst, possible happy ending (but still heartbreaking), club scenes/partying, drinking, romantic moments, super cheesy at times, fluff, cursing??

word count: 5590

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Let's fall in love for the night / And forget in the morning

~~

It started out as a silly joke - "let's pretend to date for a night". You were the one that brought it up, but immediately felt embarrassed by it. Of course, you were joking. You would never want to actually date your best friend, Colby. The only reason you even suggested it was because after a long night of talking about life, you both confessed how lonely you guys felt. How you both deeply wanted someone to be in love with. How much you yearned to have someone that was yours. But there was a lot of things in your way. For Colby, he didn't trust many. And it was hard for him to open up to those he wanted to be close with; including you, at first. And for you.... it was a bit of a laundry list of reasons. The main one? You just weren't sure there was "the one" for you. And for that reason alone, you didn't feel like breaking your heart over and over again just to search for someone that wasn't even real.

So, your suggestion was quite simple: pretend to date each other for one night, to get the experience of being in love. Maybe pretending even for a couple hours might alleviate some of the desire you felt. Maybe it would cool the fires in you that only came out when drunk and vulnerable.

Colby at first was against it, only because he couldn't imagine actually dating you. You were one of the few girls in his life he never had a thing for, but that wasn't because he didn't find you attractive. You definitely were, which is why he found it hard to believe your love life was as dry as his. But him... dating you? It felt strange. But the more he thought about - not spending a night alone again, going out on a date, actually planning one for the first time in months, holding someone's hand - it sounded nice. Relaxing, even. And having it be you and not someone he had to keep his guard up around made it all the more enticing.

He eventually said yes weeks later, which surprised you immensely. Especially given the distain look he had when you mentioned it, you thought there was no way in hell he would say yes.

"How do we do it?" He asked, taking a sip from his drink.

“Well... we would only date for the night. Until midnight. Tomorrow.” You stated.

He agreed. “That sounds good. Where would you like to go?”

“Where would you take a girl you've been with for a while?” You queried.

He snorted, “It's been a long time since I've had to worry about that.”

“You’ve got until tomorrow at seven to figure that out. Maybe a bit before. I would like some time to get ready for our date.” You grinned, raising your eyebrows.

“Okay then. I'll see you tomorrow...” Colby paused, his eyes locking with yours. “Girlfriend.”

You rolled your eyes jokingly, “And I'll see you tomorrow, boyfriend.”

The rest of the party you guys stayed away from each other. And all night all you could think of was what will tomorrow bring. Your stomach flipped with anticipation. But you tried to settle it down by thinking repeatedly it's just a "date" with Colby. There's no reason to be hyped for it.

You were just playing pretend.

~~~~~

It was after five in the evening when Colby finally texted you about the date - you guys were going out to eat. But he wouldn't tell you where. All he mentioned was that you guys had to dress semi-formal.

You started getting ready, not really sure what was completely in store for you. You showered, did your hair, and makeup in record time. Now... for the outfit. You weren't sure how "formal" Colby was actually going to be. That man very rarely ever dressed formal. But you figured the red cocktail dress you bought a couple weeks back would work well with whatever you two were doing tonight.

The benefit of living with Sam and Colby in this scenario was that if Colby wasn't dressed as formal as you, you could get change, which did calm your nerves a bit.

Slowly walking down the stairs, you could hear someone in the kitchen. As you reached the bottom, you turned and saw Colby waiting for you, staring down at his phone.

You inquired, “Calling an uber?”

“Yeah it should be here soon.” He mentioned nonchalantly.

Colby finally picked his head up, gazing at you. His eyes widened for a split second. He collected himself, calmly saying, "You look beautiful."

You giggled, trying not to notice the way he looked you up and down. "Thank you. I'm surprised to see you in actual dresswear."

You glanced at his outfit: black dress shoes, black slacks, and a dark maroon button up. He had his leather jacket on, giving him that little edge that you were used to seeing.

A shy smile came to his face. “Yeah, I don't really get a chance to get dressed up so I figured tonight would be a good time to do it.”

“You look really nice.” You admitted.

He nodded quickly. "Thanks."

There was a moment of silence between the two of you. You weren't sure what it was from - nervousness, lack of conversation, or just waiting for the uber. Either way, you hated it.

“The uber's gonna be here in a moment. Want to head outside?” He asked.

“Sure. Sounds good.” You replied.

You grabbed your jacket on the way out, slipping it on quickly. As Colby locked the door, the slight chill in the air made you shiver. Colby began to walk down the path to the street, his hand reaching out for yours. At first you were surprised to see him do that, but then you slipped your hand into his. His hand was warm and soft, somehow making your body feel even colder. The uber pulled up, and you two got in. He let go of your hand for a moment, only to grab it again.

The ride was quiet the whole way to the restaurant. You couldn't tell if it was your nervousness or his, but either way you could cut the tension with a knife. As you finally arrived, you felt your heart flutter.

Like many restaurants in Vegas, it was inside a hotel. And this was one of the nicer ones, from the way there was a doorman that propped the door open for you as you entered. Colby knew where he was going, so you followed right along with him; his hand still embracing yours. You cupped his arm with your other hand, squeezing him lightly. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but you doing that made his heart race.

Finally reaching the restaurant, you could see by the name that it was an Italian place - and an expensive one at that. Everything on the outside seemed bougie, and that continued inside the restaurant.

“How did you get us into a place like this?” You questioned under your breath.

He smirked down at you, “I have friends in high places, I guess.”

“Good evening.” The hostess spoke.

“Hello, table for two under ‘Brock’.” Colby stated.

The hostess looked at her screen and nodded her head. “Okay, follow me.”

You glanced around as you followed behind Colby, feeling out of your element. You weren’t used to places like this. No man had ever taken you out to somewhere this nice. The last time you went somewhere like this was for a dinner Sam and Colby had thrown after a successful video series.

“I hope this table is to your liking. Your waiter will be with you shortly.” The hostess smiled, walking away.

Colby pulled your chair out as you slipped your jacket off, resting it on the back. He slid into his seat, you both finally making eye contact for the first time since leaving home.

You picked up your menu, Colby following suit. You both mumbled what you planned to have to eat that night, you settling on the three cheese ravioli, and Colby was getting some pasta dish neither one of you could pronounce. The waiter came to your table a moment later. You ordered the food and drinks, and then stared at each other again.

Why does everything feel so awkward? You and Colby had been friends for years, could talk about anything and everything. Why was now so strange?

Sure, you were pretending to be dating but... it shouldn't be that weird.

After the waiter came back with the drinks, you paused until he left to finally speak. You blurted out, "Is this not kinda awkward, or am I just going crazy?"

Colby sighed, happy that you picked up on the uneasiness between the two of you. "Yeah, this is a bit strange. Don't you think?"

You shrugged. “A little. Maybe it's because we aren't playing pretend enough.”

He raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“Well, if we were an actual couple, there wouldn't be all this tension. Assuming we've been together for a while.” You remarked.

“How long do you think we've been dating?” Colby added, “Hypothetically.”

You bit your lip and then thought for a moment. "Hypothetically, I could see us maybe having dated for... two years? Maybe going on three?"

He sat back in his chair, “Hmm, interesting. What would have been the starting point of our relationship?”

“I'm not sure... maybe us hooking up at a party?” You suggested, sipping your drink.

Colby grimaced, “No, I don't think so.”

“Well, what do you have in mind?” You responded.

"Hypothetically," Colby stared at the flicker candle at your table, then looked up at you. "I think we would have just happened to start dating. Maybe, we would have been on double date with Sam and Kat or something."

“You mean, basically any time we all hang out?” You laughed.

He shook his head. “Yeah, no. An official, actual date? We've never done that as a group.”

“I don't know, I feel like if that scenario did happen, we would have had to have been drunk at some point during the night.” You commented.

“Why do you say that?” He squinted.

You whisper-yelled dramatically. “We're both nervous as hell right now, and this isn't even a real date!”

He chuckled. “True, I guess. But the real question is what would make us want to start dating?”

“Ohhh, that's a good one.” You both paused for a second. You spoke first, “Hypothetically?”

He nodded his head.

“I think.... Oh! Two years ago, do you remember when we all went to that haunted hotel, but we weren't filming?” You described.

He blinked, “You're gonna have to be more specific. It's kinda my job to go to haunted places.”

“Shut up," you deadpanned. "Remember, we had a layover when flying to New York for some event, and we had to stay because the flight was cancelled due to the weather. And the closest and only open hotel was the –”

“Annamarie Inn, or something like that?” Colby chimed in.

“Yes!” You exclaimed.

“Oh my God, I remember that place. That was....” he shivered. “Fucking creepy.”

“It was so small, borderline a motel. And the front desk person was mean.” You remembered.

“Well, if no one had stayed at my place for months on end, I too would be annoyed by some out of town LA-ers.” He snickered.

“It didn't help you were wearing a Fendi hoodie.” You jeered sarcastically.

He gaped. “It was cozy!”

“You're a brand whore who sticks out like a sore thumb in the middle of Nowhere, America!” You sassed.

He glared, “If we were actually dating, I would break up with you right now.”

"Aww, don't like being roasted?" You mocked, pouting.

“Not when I'm paying, no.” He replied dryly.

You sat back in your chair crossing your arms, scowling jokingly. You took a swig of your drink, and then continued. "But anyway, that night would have been the beginning of us, in theory, I think."

“Why? What even happened?” Colby cocked his head.

“We had to share one bed, remember? Kat was insistent on sleeping with Sam because the building creeped her out, and so we shared a room instead. But when we got to the room, it was a single bed.” You recalled.

He hummed, agreeing. “Yeah, you're right. But why would that have been the night we started dating?”

“Well, I remember us sharing the room and I remember it was really cold and we just cuddled with each other, and I think being that close could have caused something to happen.” You stated.

“Maybe...” He mumbled.

"I just know that that night was really stressful but us being together in that room was..." Your mind drifted off to the memory of that night. You could remember studying Colby's face in the dark, how relaxed he looked after the stressful day you all had. You couldn't understand how he looked even more handsome up close. You remembered having to hold yourself back from touching his face, his lips.... "Nice. It-it was really nice."

You took another sip of your drink, hoping that Colby didn't notice your cheeks and how red they had become.

He did notice, but he didn't say anything. And part of him remembered that night. That was the night he woke up with your head lying on his chest and it was all he could think about the rest of the trip.

“Did you have a different idea of when we would have hypothetically started dating?” You asked.

Colby cleared his throat. “Sort of. But I kinda like your idea better.”

The idea he had in his head was also during an investigation, but it was when the cameras were off. You both had crazy things happen during the night; during the Estes Method it said your name, and Colby at one point thought he saw a figure at the end of a hallway. Everyone was taking a break outside, and you asked for a hug. Of course, he gave you one, and you offhandedly told him that you felt safe in his arms.

It took a lot to make Colby speechless, but you did it so easily in that moment.

The waiter interrupted Colby's memory, bringing out the food. You both chowed down, the pasta tasted extra delicious. You continued to talk about your made-up relationship, and also just talked about life in general. You ended up skipping dessert, and asked Colby if there was anything else planned for tonight.

He informed you, slipping his jacket on. “There's a new bar that opened up in the next hotel over that I was thinking we could check out.”

You smiled. “That sounds good.”

He slid his phone out, turning back to you as he walked. “Do you want to walk or catch another uber?”

You followed him, placing your jacket on again. “We can walk, I don't mind.”

Colby grabbed your hand as you left the restaurant. You felt giddy this time around, all the tension from before now gone after talking with each other for a couple hours. You couldn't help but smile as you walked outside onto the Vegas strip. The sky had grown dark but was somehow darker than usual. A distant boom bounced off the buildings on the strip. Thunder.

He glanced up at the sky, turning his head to you. “I think it's about to rain. Let's walk a little faster.”

You nodded your head, picking up the pace. Colby stayed near you, even though he could speed walk faster than you could run. He wasn't going to leave you behind. Finally crossing the street, you made it to the other hotel. You still had to walk to the doors though. But suddenly, the skies opened up and rain poured down onto you and everyone around. Some rushed into the hotel, others pulled out umbrellas. Colby pulled you two under an awning, his arm wrapping around you.

“Do you want to wait here until it lets up a bit?” He queried, getting close to you.

“Sure.” You nodded.

You stared out at the rain, watching it splatter as it hit the ground. It very rarely rained in Vegas, so to see it come down like this was both strange and fascinating. And somehow, for a moment, there weren’t that many people around. Most had ran inside, leaving the two of you out on your own. Having a solitude moment in Vegas was even more rare than the rain. A thought popped into your head: go dance in the rain. You didn't know why, but you had to do it. You slipped out from under Colby's arm and walked out into the street, letting the rain hit your skin and clothes.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” He called out to you.

You let the rain slowly soak you, turning towards Colby. "Live a little! Join me."

Colby shook his head slightly, squinting at you in amusement. A moment passed. He sighed and stepped out into the rain.

You started jumping up and down, laughing at him as he opened his arms wide. His maroon shirt grew darker as the rain drenched him. He turned back to you, grabbing your hands and spinning you around, almost dancing. You cackled as he pulled you close and picked you up for a split second. He spun around with you in his arms, and only stopped once you wailed at him to do so. Your eyes landed on each other’s and time froze. You felt hyper aware of how Colby's hands were on your waist, and how yours were wrapped around his neck. Your bodies were close to one another, his heat radiating onto you. You couldn't contain yourself, even if you wanted to. The closeness made it all the more easy to lean in, and Colby followed suit.

This wasn't your first kiss with Colby; that one happened a long time ago during a truth or dare drinking game. But this one blew that old one out of the water. Back then, you felt embarrassed to kiss him, kind of wishing you had just taken the five shots that was given as an option instead. But now, all you could think of was that you hoped this kiss never ended. Once his tongue slid across your bottom lip, you knew whatever relationship you had with him was going to be permanently changed.

He felt the same as you. There was a sudden craving that raced through his body the moment your lips touched his. How was it possible that all this time he had missed out on this? On you? There's no way the first kiss was like this. If it had been, he would have asked you to be his that night. Maybe he had been so wrapped up in his own bullshit, he couldn't have imagined asking you out. It was crazy to think that pretending to date for a night got him here.

And then it hit him: this wasn't real. You guys were on a fake date, pretending to be a couple. The light pain in his chest made him pull away, but part of him wished he never did.

“We... we should stop.” He voiced, breathlessly.

You stammered, trying to calm yourself. “R-right. And, uh, get out of the rain.”

"Yeah." He stepped back farther away from you, needing some space so that he could think again. "C'mon, let's get inside."

You both raced in, not wanting to get anymore wet than you already were. The cool hotel air hit you and made you shiver, Colby doing the same.

"So... where's the club at in here?" You asked awkwardly.

A brief smirk passed his face, his hand finding yours again as you walked. “It's a speakeasy, so it's hidden behind the back of some store. It's similar to the other one we go to all the time. Made by the same people.”

You exhaled, “That's fun.”

“Yeah, me and Sam were gonna check it out last week but never got around to it.” He turned to you, studying your face. “But if you don't want to, we can just –”

"No, I don't mind." You stopped Colby lightly, pointing at the signs for the bathroom. "Maybe before we go in, I should use the restroom and make sure I don't look like a complete mess."

He glanced down at himself, “Same here.”

You went inside and looked at yourself in the mirror. Not too bad for being drenched, weirdly enough. Your makeup had survived the rain, thank God for waterproof, and all that really looked a bit messy was your hair.

Realistically, while you were going in here to make sure you didn't look bad, you were really in here because of how nervous you were. It had finally really hit you that you two just made out in the rain. Something you had wanted to do with someone since you were a kid and saw 'A Cinderella Story'. And now you did it... on a fake date, no less.

Maybe he was the one for.... no. You couldn't allow yourself to think like that.

You dried your hair as best you could: drying the ends under the hand-dryer and running your fingers through the rest. You pinned it up with a clip in your bag, checked your makeup again, and then stepped back out into the busy walkway of the hotel. Colby was leaning against the wall waiting for you, looking ridiculously suave for no reason. He perked up when he saw you, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

His shirt looked mostly dried, and his leather jacket had been wiped down - something he had done in the bathroom while you were gone. He hoped you didn't notice; he didn't want to seem like he was doing too much. He prayed he was pulling off the effortlessness he could usually get away with.

You noted it, but didn't say anything.

Colby grasped your hand again, pulling you along silently to the store in question that housed the speakeasy. It looked like a regular Vegas gift shop. He stopped at the back of the store, in front of a "Employees Only" door with an eye-slot on it. It opened up, and a man asked "Password."

“’I'm looking for Piper.’” He quoted.

The man nodded, closed the slot, and opened the door. Inside was a dark, booming club. You were shocked to see it. Knowing how the other one looked, this was somehow more impressive. It was packed and the music was loud and fun. Colby smiled at you and pointed at a free table across the way.

“Wow, this place is crazy!” You yelled over the music.

He glanced around, “I know. I'm surprised how many people are here tonight.”

“What time is it?” You questioned.

Colby looked down at his watch. “It's... a little after ten.”

Your heart skipped a beat, hearing the time. “Oh.”

“What is it?” He furrowed his brow.

“We only have a couple more hours until midnight.” You explained.

“And then...” His voice grew quiet, “our fake date is over.”

The two of you stayed silent for a moment, Colby breaking it by looking up at you. "Well, we better make the most of it."

You ordered drinks, downing them within minutes. The upbeat music made you want to dance, so you grabbed Colby's hand and pulled him onto the dance floor. Colby didn't really like dancing. He was more of a people watcher when he was at the club. But you were not taking no for an answer.

You swayed your hips to the music as you faced Colby. He watched you, stepping back and forth to the beat. His hand still held onto yours, eventually spinning you and gliding you into him. He slid his hands down your body, cupping your waist sweetly. His body pressed against yours, his breath fanning across your neck. Your back arched at his closeness, causing goosebumps to form across your skin. How was it possible that he was doing all of this to you? You had danced with Colby on countless occasions, spent multiple times in your life at the club with him. But tonight, after everything... things really felt different.

Colby's mind was reeling just as much as yours, if not more so. He started out the night thinking this was going to be a fun night, but nothing too crazy. And now... he had to do everything in his power not to jump your bones in the middle of this club. But your ass pressed against his crotch was making that very hard to do.

His grip on your waist tightened as you grinded back into him harder, teasing him. You felt his chest vibrate as he chuckled. He buried his face into your neck before whispering "Fuck, Y/N, what are you trying to do to me?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You smirked.

Colby suddenly spun you around, pulling you close. He leaned in, keeping his eyes on you. Somehow, even in the dark, his eyes almost glowed with lust. He kept his mouth close to yours, lips brushing against each other. But he never fully leaned in.

“Kiss me.” He dared.

You exhaled, closing the space between the two of you. The kiss became intense in no time. One of his hands landed in your hair, pulling lightly on your locks causing you to open your mouth, gasping. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside. You could taste the fruity cocktail he had finished not long ago. Your hands drifted up to his chest, tugging at his button up and jacket. His other hand snaked down your body, cupping your ass softly.

Your breath hitched, surprised by his forwardness. "Too many people are looking at us. Let's go home."

He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you off the dance floor. “Sounds good to me.”

The intensity had stayed between the two of you the whole time you were in the uber on the way home. You were nice enough not to make out in someone's car, but you couldn't help but squeeze Colby's hand every so often, knowing you guys were getting closer to home. He would do the same back, his eyes snaking up your body.

You weren't sure what was going to happen between the two of you, but you were excited nonetheless.

You both rushed inside after getting dropped off, thanking the driver quickly. Colby had you against the front door the moment it closed, kissing and sucking on your neck. You couldn't help the little noises that fell from your lips, him finding all of your most sensitive spots. All you needed was for him to take you to any of the bedrooms in the house, and you would be set.

Colby's hand drifted up to your shoulder pushing your jacket off, but suddenly his hand froze in place; his eyes staring at his wrist.

“What? What's wrong?” You murmured, breathlessly.

He hesitated. “It's.... five minutes to midnight.”

Your heart sank. And you would never know it, but so did his.

You inhaled. “Oh. So our date is-”

“Done.” Colby grunted.

He backed himself away from you, his hands falling to his sides. You leaned back against the door, running you hands through your hair. You looked back up at him, his eyes still on the floor.

“Why don't we just.... ignore it?” You felt bold saying it, but the way Colby looked at you made you realize you said something wrong.

He shook his head, “N-no. No, we can't.”

“But why? I mean, we had so much fun tonight.” You stepped towards him, trying to close the space again.

He turned and walked away, going to the kitchen. “I know we did, but it was... pretend.”

You couldn’t help but scoff at his words. “Oh, so none of that was real for you? You were just what, faking it? Pretending to want to kiss me?”

“Well no. Of course I wanted to kiss you but the whole point of tonight was just to... live out a fantasy we both wanted.” His voice lowered, hoping you wouldn’t hear him say, “Needed.”

“Colby, you can't be serious. The night started out that way, sure. But after we kissed in the rain, there's no way that that was just part of the plan,” you argued. “Or making out in the club. Or what we were literally going to do until you saw the time.”

“We both needed that, yes. But that isn't reality.” He clenched his jaw, “You and I are meant to be friends.”

You challenged, leaning across the island. “But we could try for more.”

“No, we can't.” Colby didn’t like how his voice trembled.

“We worked so well together tonight, why not give it a try?” You pleaded.

"I'm not willing to lose you as a friend. I care about you, and this was nice. But.... no.” He stuttered, trying to catch his breath. “I... I won't lose you as a friend just because I'm lonely.”

You almost winced, your mind going to the worse thought. “So, none of that meant anything to you. That was all just pent up hormones?”

He glared, his stare turning your body cold. “That's not what I said. Don't put words in my mouth. But what about you, huh?”

“What about me?” You sneered.

“How did tonight make you feel?” Colby asked plainly.

You huffed, “Clearly enough of a way to make me ask you to continue this!”

“What exactly are you feeling, then? Tell me.” He walked around the island, his eyes on yours.

“Well, tonight I felt...” You trailed off.

A certain word came to mind, but you shook it off. There's no way you were going to say that. There's no way you felt that way about Colby, especially not after one date.

He got in front of you, his arms on either side of the counter as he spoke. His voice was gentle, but intense. “Tell me. Say anything. Tell me what you're feeling.”

You gulped, “Right now, you're making me nervous.”

“Why?” He whispered.

You closed your eyes, his stare making it hard to form words. “Because it's hard to think when you're this close to me.”

“But other than that?” He questioned desperately.

You stayed silent, trying to figure out the feeling. A million words came to mind, but none felt quite right to say. They were all too vulnerable, too personal. And him staring down at you intently made it even harder to speak.

He stepped back, his face dropping. “That's the problem, Y/N. Neither one of us knows how to express how we feel. Which is why we went out in the first place. We don't trust ourselves enough to find someone and to trust them in return.”

“Why are you trying to make this more difficult than it has to be? Why can't we just... try? And if it doesn't work out, so what? We can still be friends.” You bargained, trying to make him understand.

He moved towards you again, his voice almost frantic. “You want me to be honest? To tell you how I'm actually feeling?”

“Yes.” You whispered.

“I'm terrified... of not having you in my life. That if we did try this, I would just make you miserable, or vice versa. I can’t give you everything you need. And I can't imagine you not in my life so I would rather take the safe route than try this.” He confessed, not able to even look into your eyes longer than a second.

“When have you ever taken the safe route on anything?” You insisted.

He bit his lip hard, shaking his head. “I'm not willing to bet on this. You are too important to lose.”

You whimpered, “Colby...”

“Maybe one day, we could do this. Maybe one day, this could be us. I'll take that chance later,” he laughed bitterly. “But having this happen tonight? No.”

“Can you promise me that? That we'll try.... later?” You grabbed his hands, holding them once more.

He nodded, doing his best to hold it together. “I'll give it my best shot. When we're both emotionally ready for this, when I'm ready for this.”

There was no way to persuade him, and you didn't want to lose him as a friend with. So... you just accepted what he said.

“Well, you know who to call.” You smiled, brokenly.

He slid your hands out of his, leaving the kitchen slowly. He turned back, not even knowing he was breaking your heart more. "This was nice, Y/N. Thank you for... helping me feel less lonely for an evening."

“You too.” You croaked.

As he walked to his room, he never felt more alone. Each step made him regret every single word he said as he got closer to his bedroom door. All he wanted was to run back to you and hold you as close as he could.

You followed him with your eyes, trying to hold back tears. You watched him go into his room, shuddering out a breath. How long were you holding it, you didn't know.

It took a lot to make you speechless, but he did it so easily in that moment.

~~

I know better / Than to ever call you 'mine'

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

Euphemia and James - Writer's Notes

Earlier this year I wrote a fic titled "Euphemia and James," a story exploring Euphemia Potter and infertility. This is the most deeply personal story I've ever written, and it took a few weeks to write it because of the emotions it stirred up for me, but honestly, being able to write this took years of processing emotions. I decided to share some of my notes on this fic in this post, and it includes this lovely cover image from @livelaughlovetoread. This story is also unique in that it's written in second person POV. It wasn't intended to come out that way, but that's how it came out. See below the image for my notes:

Euphemia and James came from these lines from the extra-canonical writings on Pottermore/whatever they call it these days:

"[Fleamont] sold the company at a vast profit when he retired, but no amount of riches could compensate him or his wife Euphemia for their childlessness. They had quite given up hope of a son or daughter when, to their shock and surprise, Euphemia found that she was pregnant and their beloved boy, James, was born."

If you don't know anything about infertility, I envy you somewhat. Studies have shown that a diagnosis or experience of infertility is similar to receiving a cancer diagnosis or losing a close loved one. It took me a while to realize that a lot of the feelings I had surrounding infertility was actually grief and mourning.

So, I put it all into this fic. There are a few points I want to highlight, if you decide to read the fic or want to see some lines, and my feelings around it all:

"When you meet Fleamont Potter a year into your job at the apothecary, you have no intention of marrying him."

I more or less shamelessly wrote Euphemia and Fleamont's relationship to be similar to mine with Mr C. In fact, Mr C aka @rawr-gorg-smash read this work and we were both sobbing messes by the end of it.

"It will happen when it happens, they say. It will come when you least expect it, they say. That’s what everyone says, and you’re ready to punch the next person in the face who tells you to just “relax.”"

Infertile people will get advice like this frequently. It's meant to be helpful or sometimes soothing, I think, but all too often it's an empty hope. Sometimes, bodies just don't work right, no matter how much relaxing you do.

"It’s not polite to ask. Everyone knows where magical, adopted children come from. They are Muggleborn children who are delicately extracted from their birth homes and replaced with Squibs, or sometimes not replaced at all."

This part is world building by me - the idea of adoption in a magical world seemed odd to me. How would infertile magical couples adopt if they can't use potions or charms? I wouldn't put it past them to just take a Muggleborn child, modify memories, and go. I won't touch on real world adoption-there's a lot to unpack there-but this idea gave me some thoughts on magical adoption.

"It seems selfish to want more, when you already have so much. You question, for the first time in your life, if you really want a child."

I have heard people say things to this effect: it's so selfish to want your 'own' children or to want children and bring them into this world, or some variation of that. If this is what you believe, you and I are going to disagree and I'm not going to try to convince you otherwise. But it's something I and many other infertile people have considered. The thing is, people have had children and will continue to have children throughout terrible periods of time. Does it make sense? Not necessarily. Human actions don't always make sense. To me, though, it speaks of hope. Hope for a better tomorrow, for a world that we will build that will be better for the next generation.

"Now you wish for a living child. There are no longer any expectations on your baby or the kind of person they’ll be. You want a living, breathing baby in your arms you can dote on, educate, feed, and guide through life."

I'll say that one of the few silver linings of infertility for me has been re-grounding my expectations of what kind of child I might have. It once was wishing for a boy or girl, or a kid who likes to read, or a kid who won't be into extreme sports, but now it's just a kid I want. I want to love them because they exist. That's all.

"It’s a shame that you only got nineteen years with your son, the one you wished had been born twenty years prior, so you could treasure twice as long with him."

One of my fears for having children later in life is not having enough time with them. Then again, young parents die. Even children die. If nothing else, whatever time I do have, I hope I use it to love whatever family I have to the fullest.

That's all I have for now. If you made it this far, read the fic, commented on it, left kudos, or a bookmark, thank you very kindly for your time. Of all the things I've written, this felt most like putting a piece of my heart into the world.

[ssivinee]

✧The Dancer to the Music✧

BEBE! Kim Taeyoung, aka Tatter x Composer! Producer! F Reader: After not seeing each other for so long, you surprised your best friend at her studio. Work had been rough the past few days so you assumed seeing your friend could fix that, but it was someone else that does.

Word Count: 3.5k

Note: Ahhhhh, my first Tatter fic. Tatter simps rise😌. My other gf needs some love, too. I've done my civil duties and will now go to bed🙃

Character Vision Board

Being a composer in the music scene was always a dream of yours. While growing up, your parents surrounded you with the beauty of instruments and melodies. So it was evident for you to pick up your talents due to your parent's infatuation with music. Yet you never wanted the fame of being a singer, so you stuck to staying behind the scenes, writing music for several artists.

You sat in your cold studio, sipping on the hard hitting energy drink as you stared at the computer screen. Eyes never wavering at the sight of several color-codded melodies. The song felt bare and not up to your standards, causing a groan of frustration to emerge.

I need a break, was all you thought before leaving your room. You walked around the current building you were working at, the famous SM Entertainment. 2 years ago, you were merely a freelance composer, taking any project handed your way.

An SM representative then got ahold of you, saying they've been keeping an eye on you for a while and had a proposition for you. Before you knew it, a week later, you were signing a contract under the entertainment, becoming an in-house composer and producer, even gaining your first big shot project.

Better by BoA.

After the release, more and more tasks were flowing your way, SM making sure you had work to do 24/7. So now you were here, trying to piece together something for NCT's Ten.

As much as you loved your job, you couldn't deny hitting a stump. Truth be told, this happened quite often, but you usually got over it after a day or two. Yet it had been a week, and you had nothing but a simple chord progression and bass that was spaced out.

You make your way over to the hallway full of dance studios, trying to clear your mind, and you think of the perfect people to do so. Entering the room, you hear the soft volume of a song and see some of your favorite friends in the company.

"Oh shoot, nice to see you out of your cave," Jeno jokes at the sight of you after being trapped in the studio for 7 hours straight. "Dude, leave her alone," Bada says, approaching you to encase you in a warm hug.

"Seriously though, you didn't leave that room since you got here this morning," Taeyong points out, voicing his worry for the younger girl.

Ten sighs at you, "I know you're a perfectionist, Y/n, but don't stress too much over my song. Okay?" The Thai member knew how stuck you've been the past week, as he spoke to you almost every day about your progress. "I can't help it, oppa. This is your first release after Paint Me Naked, so it has to be amazing."

Bada rubs your arm in consolidation, "Maybe you need a new change of pace for now? How about the lyrics for the song? Got anything?"

You keep your head down, silence answering Bada's questions, and she sighs. "It's probably an inspiration issue," Jeno says, and your head whips up quickly. "That might actually be the problem."

"You need a change of scenery for sure. Been staring at your computer screen for almost a month straight," Taeyong says with some pats on your back. Your eyes finally had a glimmer of hope after the past weeks, with the long days tiring you out.

A light bulb then flickers in your head, "Unnie, do you have a class coming soon?" You ask the tall woman, who answers perplexed, "Uh, yeah. Tomorrow, I'm at JustJerk. Why?"

"Never mind that. What time?" Your voice evidently becomes eager.

"At 5 p.m.?"

"I'll see you then."

You took an off day, resting your mental for the day, and it was currently 4:30 p.m. as you got ready to head out for the day.

In the JustJerk studio, Bada, Lusher, and Tatter marked their dance as they waited for time. They took a water break as people were making their way into the studio.

"By the way, you have a surprise later," Bada nudges the brunette, who looks at her with a questionable gaze. "What is it?" She simply asks, but Tatter cuts her off, "That defeats the purpose of the surprise dummy."

"Do you know what it is?" Lusher asks, but the blonde shrugs at her. "Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you," she says, teasing the older. "Oh, come on, you two were about to get started." Bada breaks them up as the class begins.

You walked into the building about 20 minutes into the class and asked the receptionist for a visitor's pass that you hung around your neck. Peeking your head in, you see Bada teaching steps already, and the two of you make eye contact. She gives a small wave, and you reciprocate with a smile hiding behind your mask.

You made your way over to the side of the room, sitting on the bench where you put your tote bag beside you. Your eyes scan the room, falling onto your best friend, Lusher. That's what everyone calls her nowadays, but you only called her by her real name.

Then you see the woman next to her, and you pause.

Your eyes widen at the blonde beauty who stood beside your childhood friend, taking in her existence. She wore a simple crop top, black baggy sweets, and a denim jacket. You basically had found an angel whose body flowed fluidly at every step demonstrated to her. Her aura brightened the room's atmosphere whenever she smiled at Bada's antics. She played around with your best friend often, and you saw the two' precious bond.

Well, Jeno was definitely right about finding some inspiration.

Thoughts overflow your brain, and you take the notepad from your bag, writing down everything you can.

Baby, dance, dance, dance Wrap me up with your devotion It's a bad romance Got my body rockin' in slow motion But I can't cope walkin' on a tightrope Hangin' on the tension Let me down, down, down with you Let me give you my attention

After an hour, the class takes a break, and you shy your way behind Lusher. Your hands covered her eyes, and she flinched at the touch, "Who the hell?"

"Did you miss me, Seoyoung-ah?" You ask, and the girl instantly recognizes who it is. You were the only person who called her by her real name and had a husky, rough voice. She almost rips your hands off, wrapping her arms tighter around your neck. "Y/n? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I needed to get away from work," You mumble into her shoulder and slip the mask under your chin, revealing your face. Bada smiles at the two while Tatter wonders who you are. She was marveled by your slender eyes and relationship with the brunette. "Is this my surprise, unnie?" Lusher asks the tall dancer. She nods, proud of herself for keeping your arrival secret.

"The girl has been struggling the last few days and figured you could brighten her mood."

"Is that right?" Your best friend questions you, and you only show a bright smile.

Tatter's heart fastens at the sight of your grin. She didn't even know who you were, yet she couldn't help the feeling creeping up on her. "Ah, Y/n, let me introduce you. Tatter, this is my best friend Y/n, and Y/n, this is Tatter." Your eyes meet the blonde dancer, and she gives you a friendly smile.

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

"Likewise. Glad to meet one of Lusher unnie's long-time friends." Your face shows a look of shock. "Unnie?"

You thought she was at least the same age as you and Lusher, but you learn she was born in 2001. "I hope I haven't been replaced as your best friend," you joke, and Lusher punches your arm lightly. "Tatter is my dance duo. You and I will always be forever," she tells you as your arm wraps around her shoulder, you leaning your head on hers.

"Let's wrap up this class soon so we can all hang out?" Bada suggests, and Lusher nods excitingly, leaving your side. You and Tatter giggle at the girl as she tries to dance quickly. "You two must be close if she's acting like this," Tatter spoke calmly. "Well, she's always like that with me. This isn't anything out of the ordinary."

"True," she says, and you laugh at her bluntness. You went back to your seat as you appreciated the view of all the dancers and even watched the filming process. When the class finally ended, and all the students were out the door, you were left with the three dancers who sat on the floor, a bit tired from the dancing.

"So how do you know Bada-unnie?" The blonde asks you out of nowhere. "Uh, I'm a producer and composer at SM, so I see her at the building almost daily."

Tatter becomes fascinated at the thought of your profession, not knowing anyone in that field of work. "You make music?"

"Yeah. It's something I always loved doing since I was a kid."

"So that means you play instruments?" She looks at you, super interested, and you can't help but grow flustered with her eyes on you. It felt intense, and you weren't used to feeling this intimidation. "Um, of course. I started playing multiple instruments at the age of 11."

Her face goes into amazement at your words. "11? That's amazing. You must be really good then."

"I'd say I'm decent," you say teasingly. "She's more than decent. She created the melody Better by BoA," Lusher points out, and Bada nods in agreement. "Better? By BoA? That's one of my favorite songs."

You look at the blonde happily, "I also part-took in writing some of the lyrics."

Tatter gets up and begins bowing at you, causing you to frantically wave your arms at her gesture. "Please get up and never do that ever again." You chuckle as she gets up.

"Her unreleased stuff is fire, though," Bada says, exposing you, and your eyes widen. "Unnie~" You whined at the older woman, who chuckled, "What, it's true. The stuff you don't release are some of your best works."

"She's not wrong," your best friend added.

"Would you mind showing me some?" Tatter asks innocently, and you nod, looking away. Every time you made proper eye contact, your hands got clammy, and breathing felt ten times harder. What in the world was happening to you.

You then pull out your work phone, where you keep all your projects and private songs. Your hands lend her the wired headphones you used only specifically for this, and you connect it to the phone.

"What vibe are you looking for right now, Tatter-nim?" You joke with the question, and she responds, "Hmmm, some RnB would be nice right now." You then scroll and click the song called "Clueless Mystery."

As Tatter listened, everyone watched her eyes go soft at the sound of your voice. "Holy shit, you sound beautiful." Your ears go red at the compliment, and give her a slight bow as she keeps listening. Her upper body begins to sway at the beat, and your focus on her becomes sincere. She looked like she genuinely enjoyed the song's melody, almost freestyling as she stayed seated. You smile at her movements, and Lusher can only watch you two curiously.

That look you gave the blonde was something Lusher knew all too well... you were falling for her and falling quick.

When the song ends, Tatter can't help but applaud your work, and you bow jokingly, "Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all night, folks."

“Would you mind sending me those songs?" She asks you seriously, and you nod, happily switching numbers so you can send her some tracks when you get home. "You sure you gonna listen to them?"

"Of course. That one also seemed nice to dance to, so I might make some choreography."

That was unexpected. You nod slowly, realizing her words, "Sure, I'll pick some of my best work out."

Your visits at the JustJerk Academy became frequent as you got excited to see the blonde. The past few weeks, you had slowly but surely finished Ten's solo song, the NCT member, deciding to call the sensual song "Birthday." A piece usually took less time to make, but if you made it, you made sure to take your time, ensuring you put every single thought, sweat, and tear into it. Now, you were only missing a few lyrics and decided to keep seeing your newfound friend as she secretly became your muse for this piece.

The two agreed to meet at YGX today as Tatter was working on some new choreography for the studio. When you go to the dance studio, you see the blonde dancing through the window. This time, she wore black leggings, plain Converse, and a sheer white long-sleeve. You were fucked. Tatter looked immaculate in her simplistic outfit, the white top emphasizing her heavenly beauty.

Your brain goes crazy at the sight before you, and your breath becomes terribly shaky. Your hands move on their own, opening the door ever so slightly, and you hear one of your slow songs. You bow, coming in, letting her do her own thing until the song ends.

You watch as her body moves elegantly to the song, the jazz training being prominent in her dancing. Moving fluidly, as usual, you were in a trance, not even realizing your track had ended and she was approaching you. "Was it good?" She asks you breathlessly.

"Of course it was. What else could I expect from you?"

She smiles, taking a seat beside you. "So, you have a new song for me?"

"Wanna find out?" She nods, and you give her the phone. This time, she unlocks the phone with ease and connects the phone to the speaker. After hanging around the dancers for a while, you and Tatter became close to the point where her face could unlock the phone, and she knew her way well around the phone. You even called her by her real name.

You trusted her with it as she hasn't given you a reason not to. She clicks the unfamiliar name "Drowned Happiness." A slow-paced pop-synth beat could be heard, and Tatter's body automatically grooves away. She does a rope-pulling movement in your direction, and you roll your eyes. She was well aware you didn't dance, but here she was trying to entice you.

"Taeyoung-ah, you know damn well I have two left feet," She doesn't respond to you, just grabbing your arm and pulling you to the center of the room. She circles your body as she dances, and you can only watch her in astonishment. The distance between you is minuscule, and you stand there, frozen. "Are you scared of me, Kang Y/n?" She asks in a whisper, the smaller girl making sure you kept your eyes on her the entire time. "You know I don't bite."

Your breath hitches at her words.

She takes your arms and wraps them around her own waist, and you try swaying your body to follow her movement. Finding the right pace, you two go in sync, and Tatter smiles at your awkward figure, finding you adorable. Your hands fondle with her hips as she leans your body closer to you.

"You know, no one has ever had this effect on me." You just listened to her, still sticking to the momentum the two of you had. "The first time I saw you in the studio, god. You did something to me. The stupid smile you have, the little head bobs you did while listening to music, your deep voice, everything about you was captivating."

That stupid smile she calls out takes shape on your face. "You're so beautiful, angel," was all you could say, giving her a new nickname. You couldn't even find the right words, making you nervous. It was literally part of your job, but Tatter made it overly difficult for you. The song ends, and you pull away quickly, feeling your face heat up at the exchange.

You cough before trying to redeem yourself, "Wanna head out for lunch?"

"Sure. What do you have in mind?" She asked, picking up her bag and phone. "There's a small Italian place near by if you want." She nods, and you drive to the restaurant. While driving, you felt Tatter's eyes on you occasionally, and you tried to shake away the anxiousness you felt bubbling inside you.

You guys make it and open the cae door for the girl. Entering the establishment, you were met with the smell of pasta and baked goods.

The two of you ate pasta as you chatted away, "I'm telling you, Seoyoung would get her hands stuck in her hoodie." You told her stories about you and Lusher's childhood, and Tatter always laughed. "How does that even happen?"

You shrug, "I don't know. All I know is she always cried about it, and I'd have to help her out every single time."

The two of you were about to continue but noticed the heavy rain outside. "Shit," Tatter said softly, looking out the window. "I'll drop you home. It's no big deal."

When finishing up, you two argued over paying the bill. "Let me, I've literally been using your music for my own fun."

"Taeyoung, that has nothing to do with paying the bill, like, at all."

"I wanna pay, please~" She pleaded, but you shook your head, handing your card to the water, "No, and that's final." Tatter quiets down at your stern voice, never hearing it before. You sounded so sexy, making her feel vulnerable in front of you.

When existing, you guys stood under the store's overhead, and you began taking off your letterman jacket. Placing it over the blonde's head, she mopes. "You're gonna get sick, unnie," she tried taking it off, but you stopped her, just pulling her waist close as you run to your car, ensuring she didn't slip. You open the passenger door and let her enter before running to the driver's side.

Safe to say, as soon as you sat in the car, you sighed at yourself. You were literally soaking wet. Tatter looks at you in silence, taking in your appearance. Your usual straight long black hair turned a little wavy, and your plain white shirt was now see-through, enabling her to see the black sports bra you wore underneath. When you look at her in a fit of laughter, she looks away, trying to hide the shades of pink on her face.

You drove her home, and as you sat in the front of her apartment, she sighed, "Can I at least give you some clothes? Before you get sick?" You just nod, saying, "Sure, this shirt isn't feeling too comfortable right now anyways." Not wanting to argue with her. She wasn't wrong, as you felt the heavy weight of your shirt tiring your body.

She lets you in, and your nose is filled with the scent of Vanilla. Of course, her house would smell like this. The girl herself smelled sweet all the time.

"Let me get you a towel with some clothes so you can shower."

She marches off somewhere with a mission in mind, and you wait at the entrance, not wanting to wet her place too much. Tatter comes back, handing you a soft sage green towel. "The bathroom is in the hallway, the door to the left, and I have some clothes in there for you."

You nod and take a quick hot shower, and as Tatter waits for you, she changes into a silk pink pajama set, getting comfortable in her humble abode. She sat in her living room, watching TV, and you came out in grey sweatpants and a baggy light blue shirt. Your hair was now in a ponytail, and Tatter couldn't help but stare at you lovingly. You looked adorable and comfy in her clothes.

Making your way over to her, you sat on her couch, making yourself feel at home as you were tired. "You good?" She asks you softly. "Yeah, just a bit tired from all the food we ate."

"Stay for a while. Let the rain die down, and we can watch a movie."

"Let's do it then," You put one of her throw pillows in your lap, and she smiles fondly at you. The two of you agreed to watch Mamma Mia. As the movie goes on, the two of you move closer to each other as you play around every now and then. Tatter then rests her head in the crook of your neck, and you smile at this. Finding some courage as you two watched the movie, you asked her in a gentle voice, "Hey?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you wanna go on a date tomorrow?"

She peeks at you, leaning her head up, "Is this not a little date right now?" You grin, feeling your heart swell up at the view of her beautiful face. "A proper date, angel."

With her new name rolling off your tongue, she gives you a quick peck on the cheek, "I'd love to go on a proper date with you, unnie."

A/n: This took so long to write, but it was defo worth it!

-sivine

[bambikisss]

Christmas in New York :: Cho Guesung

Summary : With work stressing you out, your boyfriend comes to surprise you

Characters: reader x Cho Guesung (South Korea #9)

Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it up, especially in this economy), biting, preg kink, lots love L bombs, use of a mirror, use of the window, he'll call you a slut

A/N: So fun fact, I got my first hate anon after writing for him lol so I'm doing it again heh. There will be a version without smut for the people who may want this without the sexy time.

Christmas fics: 2/?

You laid back on your bed after a long day of work, closing your eyes as you relished the feeling of your cloud-like bed. You had been up since around 8 am running around New York like a madman getting things ready for an event you had to host and attend in a few days. You had to pick up your supervisor's dress, your dress, make sure the caterers had the order and that they now include vegetarian options, blah blah blah. The thing that bothered you so much was that there were people at your job whose job it was to do this, not you. Now you had an article to finish and it honestly tired you out.

While you tried to weigh the options of whether it was worth quitting your job and moving in with your boyfriend and living in his closet, your phone suddenly buzzed. You groaned, turning to grab your phone, your annoyance melting away when you noticed who it was.

Baby <3: I lowkey hate airports lol. It's so crowded and everyone is staring at us.

You couldn't help but smile like a schoolgirl when her crush texted her, moving to lay on your stomach as you texted your response.

Y/N: You're telling me that the international heartthrob Cho Guesung doesn't like everyone admiring your hotness?

Y/N: Who is this and what have you done with my boyfriend?

You had been dating Guesung for two years, meeting him while you had a brand party in Korea. You were there for him while he trained to be added to the world cup team, and had even been there for some of his games. Now with the world cup over, you hadn't seen him in person for a while as he was busy with his schedule as everyone wanted to get to know him.

Baby <3: lol, you know how I feel about all this attention.

Baby <3: Especially when I'm receiving thousands of marriage proposals while I have you, baby.

Ah, how could you forget?

When everyone got a glimpse of him, everyone rushed to his Instagram and followed him, then flooding his comments and DMs with marriage proposals. He of course immediately told you and after you both read through some and laughed, he then muted the app. You weren't jealous about how everyone reacted to your boyfriend because, well, he was attractive. You actually found it a bit funny how everyone saw a glimpse of him being pouty on a bench at a game and said "Ah yes, husband material."

Y/N: Why are you in the airport anyways? Do you have a game or something?

Baby <3: Nah, I have a schedule in the states.

You tried to think about where he could have a schedule since you hadn't seen it pop up on his schedule when he originally showed you. Before you could ask him where be sent you a text saying "Gotta get on the plane. Love you, I'll text you after the interview! <3"

You pouted as you realized you could no longer talk to your man, checking the time before you got a text from your coworker, asking if you could help her plan an interview they had tomorrow.

There goes relaxing.

~<3

New York snow was something else.

It may look gorgeous in pictures but in person, it was horrible, especially when the wind hit.

You mumbled curse words as you carried the heavy Starbucks bags filled with pastries and hot chocolate for the interview guests, stomping into your work build as you passed by the group of assistants all gossiping by the door. When they saw you, they broke out into a fit of laughter, making you want to do nothing more than throw the bag of scolding hot chocolate at them. How dare they laugh at you? Even worse when you're doing their job.

You rolled your eyes before hurrying to the collaboration floor, rushing into the room where the interview was being held. You placed the bags onto the table, turning to your coworker who was smiling like a fool at you. Before she could begin to speak about whatever made her so happy, you cut her off. "How the fuck do those assistants downstairs still have a job? I'm out here, running around to do their jobs while they're gossiping about some random shit." Your coworker's eyes widened as her smile widened a bit as you ranted, nodding as she tried to hold back her laugh.

"Now, what are you giggling about?" You dropped your hand to your side, showing your frustration before you removed your jacket, tossing it to a nearby chair. Before she could speak, someone tapped your shoulder.

"Pretty outfit, baby." You paused at the sound of his voice, turning around to see your boyfriend standing in front of you, a smug smile on his face. You couldn't figure out words as you stared at him before wrapping your arms around his neck, Guesung picking you up to spin with you. All of your annoyance left your body as he pressed kisses to your temple, mumbling about how much he missed you. You couldn't let go of him as he pulled back to lift your face so he could properly kiss you. His lips tasted of watermelon, the familiar taste reminding you of the gum he always chewed.

"Woah, let's not make out here!'' Your lips paused as you heard one of his teammate's voices, turning to see a group of them all smiling at you, making kissing noises while laughing. You've never felt such a vast change of emotions: annoyance to happiness to embracement. You hid your face in his chest, Guesung laughing softly before telling the group to quit it, which they did after a few moments. He looked down at you with a smile, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before going to sit with the group, asking what kind of interview they were doing, which made you pause. You had completely forgotten that they were here for an interview with you. You turned to your coworker, who handed you the clipboard as she kept her smile on her face, which made you gently hit her arm with it.

"You guys have a puppy interview." As the group of boys cheered, a puppy's bark could be heard, which made the boys sing in a chorus of "awws"

You set the up before bringing in the puppies, starting the interview as the boys played with them. You laughed as the smallest dog moved to sit in Guesung's lap, not leaving his lap the entire time. You found it adorable at how the two were interacting; you could see the love in his eyes for the dog. Once the interview was over, you helped take the dogs back to their crates and handlers, the boys asking to adopt all the ones that caught their eyes. You helped distribute the hot chocolate and pastries as the boys passed you to head back to their van, hugging you and asking you to make sure they got their puppies. "Make sure you filled out the adoption application before y'all leave and I'll see what magic I can work." The boys all thanked you, hugging you tightly in a group hug as they left, making you feel warm. As you looked through the applications, you felt some arms wrap around your waist, soft lips moving to press against your cheek. "What time do you get out of work, today?" You turned to face your boyfriend, kissing his cheek as you checked your schedule for the day. "I should be out by like 6, why?"

Guesung said nothing, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before leaving with his drink, leaving you and your coworker confused. You didn't have time to think about it as your manager came to you to help go over the event's details in a meeting with the party planning team. You sighed as your coworker patted your back, telling you to look forward to whatever your man has planned for later. You held onto that throughout your day, the day seemingly moving by faster than usual.

After clocking out you made your way outside where the rest of the assistants from earlier were talking. They of course noticed you and all began to make fun of you like a group of middle school kids, making you roll your eyes. You ignored them as you began your trek home, mumbling about how much they didn't do their job. What were they getting paid to do?

You found yourself annoyed as you punched in the code to your apartment, looking forward to having the wine you had just bought and some much-needed alone time with your cat. After walking in and kicking off your boots, you looked up to see your living room decorated with candles and flowers. There was also some romantic music playing in the background, making you smile. The place smelled amazing and you wanted to find the cause of this romantic setup.

"Oh, you're home."

You smiled as Guesung came into view, a kitchen towel on his shoulder, showing you that he had been cooking. You weren't even thinking about the alone time you once wanted, rushing into his arms as he caught you. He chuckled, pressing a kiss onto your temple, spinning around with you before placing you down in front of him. He kissed you softly before rubbing your back, smiling softly. "How...I thought you guys were busy?" He couldn't help but laugh softly at your words, squeezing your hips before he returned to the kitchen, focusing back on the food he had been cooking. You took a second to admire him in his sleeveless tight tank top and sweatpants; the way he seemed so focused on the steak he was cooking, occasionally smiling when he glanced up at you.

After placing the steaks onto a plate to rest, he turns off the stove before finally answering your question. "The snowstorm closed the airport so we're all stuck here. The boys are at the hotel while I decided to spend some time with my sweet girlfriend." He smiled as he rounded the kitchen counter, pulling you to his chest as you smiled. "After I noticed how annoyed you seemed at work earlier, I thought you would enjoy me coming home to surprise you with a date."

"Aren't you romantic?" You couldn't help but press a kiss to his lips, feeling your heart skip a beat at how sweet he was. Guesung had a way with you that made your heart race and do backflips; he would buy you flowers just cause so that when you got home from work, you'd see them. He'd buy clothes, snacks, and other things that made him think of you while he was away in Korea while traveling and put them into a box and ship them to you along with a heartfelt letter and some polaroid pictures of him and sometimes of his teammates. He wouldn't hesitate to send you some of his clothes among other things just because he loves you. He had sent you so many of his clothes that he now has a section of clothes in your closet and a drawer in your dresser. It made you want nothing more than to just kiss him to oblivion and it made you wanna sometimes cry.

Like now, cleaning up after you both finished the steak dinner he made while you laid full on the couch. You couldn't help but smile at him as he fully cleaned the kitchen and fed the cat, then made his way over to you with the wine you had mentioned that you wanted to try. He sat down in front of you as he poured the wine, handing you a glass before repeating it for himself. He clinked your glasses together, holding your hand as he drank the wine. "Y/N, you know I love you, right?" You paused at the sudden question, placing your glass down to softly cup his face. He said nothing as he pressed a kiss to your thumb, making your heart skip once more. "Yes, Guesung. I know."

"I just wanna make sure. I know sometimes I'm not the most...available, but, I want to make sure that you know that I do."

You scanned his face as he spoke, noting his beauty marks and how his eyes searched your face. It sometimes shocked you how much he wanted to prove that he loved you. You knew that he did and it sometimes worried you that he felt like you didn't appreciate everything he had done for you.

You took a second before pulling him into a loving kiss, your lips moving together as you pulled him onto the couch. He grunted softly as he picked you up, sitting down on the couch before placing you on his lap. He gripped your hips as you two kissed, your hands moving into his hair as you pulled away. He at first chased your lips before pulling back to meet your eyes, giving you his full attention. You let your hand move to once again cup his cheek, your thumb moving to rub his bottom lip. His eyes moved to stare at your lips, his hands gripping your hips tighter. You loved how attentive he was to you, watching your every move. You watched as his breath hitched when you licked your lips, his eyes moving to try and meet yours.

"Y/N... Don't tease." You then met his eyes, pulling him back in for another kiss, this one more passionate and messy. He grabbed at your clothes, removing each article of clothing before tossing them onto the floor. He licked your bottom lip as he stood up with you, removing his own clothes before pulling you back to be close to him.

"My god, Y/N, you don't know what you do to me." He whispered, his voice coming out desperate as he massaged your body. "I don't," you hissed as his lips pressed against the sweet spot on your collarbone. "Why don't you tell me?"

"You just wanna hear me talk about how much I always wanna fuck you," he moaned as your hand slid down to make contact with his hard dick, slowly pumping. "Maybe," you whispered, your boyfriend chuckling in response.

He removed your hand before pulling you to sit on his lap, helping you to grind on him. You moaned as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, his free hand massaging your ass as his dick and your wetness made contact, grinding against one another deliciously. "I wanna fuck you so bad. All those times you acted cute while we face time, all those times you sent me a photo of a new outfit you got that barely covered your ass or these goddam gorgeous thighs," he paused to slap your ass, making you moan loudly. "Makes me just wanna get on the first fucking flight to your place and fuck you like crazy."

"Then do it." You couldn't take it anymore as you felt the tip of his dick make contact with your clit, making you press your forehead against his shoulder. "Fuck me like crazy."

Guesung wasted no time moving himself so he could push into you, his hips pounding into you as he held you still. You gripped the back of the couch, moaning loudly as your boyfriend fucked up into you at a harsh pace. He couldn't help but suck and bite on your skin, his hands making contact with your ass a few times before he moaned loudly against your stomach.

"G-guesung, baby. Oh my fucking god." You whined as his thumb made contact with your clit, playing with it as he looked up at you. He could feel you clenching and it honestly drove him crazy. "That's it, baby. Cum for me, show me how much you missed my fucking cock." You closed your eyes as his pace became brutal, your orgasm ripping through you, making you moan his name loud enough that you were sure your neighbors heard.

He then jumped up from the couch as you tried to catch your breath, pinning your back against the window as he picked up the same pace he had. You dug your nails into his shoulders, tossing your head back against the window. "Such a good girl- so fucking loud while I press you up against the window. What would your neighbors think?"

You honestly didn't care about what the neighbors thought, only focused on the man in front of you who was pounding into you and kissing your neck. You scratched up his back, your boyfriend's moan being loud as he felt your nails. He loved the way it felt when you dug your nails into him and when you scratched him; let him know that he was fucking you right.

When you noticed his thighs begin to clench, you knew he was close. You leaned in to kiss him, silencing both of your moans as he moved one hand to press against the window to keep you both up. "Gonna fill you up," he growled against your lips, his hips studdering as you moaned his name. "Gonna fill up my baby and show her how much I love you. Gonna prove it to you."

He let out a few breaths as he pressed his forehead against yours, his hips stopping to press firmly against you as he came. He breathed heavily as you rubbed his back, kissing his cheeks as you waited for him to calm down. "Love you" he whispered, pecking your lips before he let his forehead rest against your shoulder, pressing short kisses there. You ran your hand through his hair, giving him a moment to calm down after fucking you so hard. After a bit, he had enough energy to move you both to the bathroom, where he carefully started the bath before helping you get in. He had you pressed against his chest, his heartbeat not pounding as hard as it was earlier. While you both bathed and relaxed in the tub, he kept you close and held you tight. You enjoyed laying in his embrace, kissing his bicep before rubbing his shoulder. You both did not speak any words, only resting and holding one another.

After you both were done, he led you to the bedroom, where he helped you get dressed before laying you down. When you asked where he was going he, chuckled. "I promise you, I'm not leaving. Just gotta clean up our mess so that the cats don't get any ideas. Then, I'll come right back and hold you close." You nodded as he left to attend to the living room and the curious cat, leaving you to slowly drift to sleep.

~ ♥ ~

Snowstorms would sometimes be worse than they seemed in New York.

You woke up around 4 to see your cat slipping through your bedroom door to leave, going to join the other cat in the cat bed. You sighed, turning to check the time before glancing at the window. Snow was hitting the window aggressively, almost sounding like rain. You turned to face a now slightly awake Guesung, who was sitting up now. You ran a hand through his hair, apologizing for waking him up. He mumbled out something about it being alright, kissing your palm before asking what time it was. "Around 4."

"Why did you cat follow me in here just to wake us both up to slip out?" You laughed as he groaned, falling back onto the bed. You gently kissed his temple, asking him if he wanted any water, to which he said no. You nodded before heading to the kitchen to get some, returning as he sat up. You leaned against the doorframe as you watched your now more awake boyfriend sit up, the comforter dropping to show his toned body and abs. You let your eyes move to his thighs that were peaking out from the opening in his tight boxer briefs. They were so toned and muscular and would occasionally tense when he laughed, which made you feel something. He soon caught your eyes, opening his arms for you to come to join him. You put your glass down before joining your boyfriend back in bed, moving to straddle him, which made him chuckle and let out a small "oh". He looked up at you, his thumbs moving to rub your hips as he leaned up to press a kiss to your cheek. "You know, for someone who was so tired a few moments ago, you seem now very awake."

Guesung smiled at your words, raising an eyebrow as he moved the both of you so your back was laid against the bed while he hovered over you. He rubbed your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist so you were pressed against him before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. The kiss was slow and sweet, your thighs occasionally squeezing around his waist, making him moan softly in the kiss. You let your hips move against his hardening cock, making him pull back from the kiss to admire your face. "For someone who was just making fun of me for waking up, you seem to want to do something active."

"Aren't you an athlete, Mr. Guesung? Isn't being active you're entire thing?" You giggled as he ran a hand through his messy hair, making a sound of fake annoyance. He smiled as his hands came to rest on top of your thighs, his hips moving to roll into yours, making you moan. He didn't stop, squeezing your thighs as he pressed more against you each time. He watched the way your body rolled and arched whenever he pressed more against your clit, his tongue coming out to wet his bottom lip.

"You're such a slut, Y/N." Your eyes opened as he paused his movements, your hips trying to move to meet his as you whined. He said nothing as he flipped you over so you were on your stomach, his hand moving over the flesh of your ass and thighs before he pressed his still-covered cock against your now-wet entrance, making you both moan. "Such a slutty pussy, too. So wet from just some grinding." He licked his lips once more as you moaned, leaning down to press his chest against your back as his hands carefully moved down your body, pulling off your underwear slowly. He tossed your panties somewhere in the room before he pressed himself once more against you, his hips rolling as he was met with your pussy. You mewled at the feeling, pushing your butt back to press against him, begging for him to hurry up and fuck you, to which he chuckled. "Can't wait, can you slut?" He couldn't wait either as he pushed down his underwear, rubbing his tip along your slick before pushing into you slowly. You moaned softly, your head falling forward as his hips snapped quickly, hitting the flesh of your ass with force. He moaned loudly, leaning forward to grab your hair, pulling your head up so you could now face the mirror that was facing your bed. He moved faster as you moaned at both your appearances; his hair was a mess from sleeping, his upper body was slightly shiny from sweat and strangely still as his hips pounded into you. He leaned down to bite your shoulder, moaning when clenched around him.

"Look at us, baby. You look so fucking hot." you gripped the sheets, as he moved, tossing your head back as he moaned your name. "I'm gonna cum soon, baby," you moaned, your boyfriend mumbling the same as he focused on where you both met. "Does my slut want my babies?" He moaned louder as you clenched around him, your own hips moving back to meet him in desperation. "My slut wants my babies, huh? Wanna be swollen with my kids? It'll show everyone how well I fuck this pussy, my pussy."

You moaned his name louder as you both came, Guesung falling forward to continue rolling his hips into your ass. His hips ground against your ass, moaning as you both tried to calm down.

He pulled out, pulling you to lay next to him. You kissed his collarbone, whining softly as he rubbed your back. "Are you tired again?" He laughed, moaning softly when you bit his collarbone once more. "Kidding, kidding"

You smiled as he pulled the cover over you both, tiredness filling your body once more as he whispered how much he loved you.

~ ♥

"Alright Y/N. Have a good holiday!"

You thanked your manager, holding in your smile as the assistants were complaining about having to work the party, complaining about you being able to leave. You made sure to smirk at them as you walked out, chuckling softly.

You smiled as you entered your apartment, happy to have the holiday off. You were tempted to break out some wine and just relax, forgetting about the job you have. You picked up your cat before you noticed your other cat chilling by the bathroom door, purring happily. You leaned down to rub him, the door opening to show Guesung in a tux. You asked what he was doing here, putting down your cat before jumping into his arms, making him chuckle. After the storm ended a few weeks ago, he left immediately with his team. "Merry early Christmas baby." He led you to the bedroom, where he had decorated it with lots of roses and candles. You noticed a card in the center of the bed, picking it up as he stood behind you.

Y/N.

I love you. I wanted to say thank you for being there for me; through training, through the world cup, and through everything. I know it hasn't been easy, but you've been there for me more than everyone else has and I just wanted to say thank you and turn around.

You turned around as you put down the card, confusion on your face. "Guesung, what do you mean turn-"

As you turned to face him, you noticed he was on one knee, a ring being held out to you. You covered your mouth as tears pricked your eyes, Guesung smiling softly. "Y/N, I love you so much. I can't imagine anyone else being by my side for the rest of my life. So, will you do me the honors and...will you marry me?"

You nodded, tears streaming down your face as he placed the ring on your finger, then pulled you into a tight hug.

"I love you, Y/N..."

[authorxxxxxx]

Hey! It's me again, I'm not sure if you still write for bayverse but if you do can you please do something (headcannons or actual fics, whatever you want) about either just dad! Optimus or the autobots finding the reader asleep on their work table or just finding out the reader hasn't slept enough in a few days. Thanks in advance! It can be any gender you want.

Pair : Bayverse!dad!Optimus Prime x gn!reader

Summary : School was really hard on you these days and with the winter exams coming you were trying to keep up with all your homework . You were experiencing insomnia and tried to keep it as secret as possible , until your dad found you dead asleep in your desk.

Tw : just the shitty education system , insomnia , but in general fluff at the end .

Words : 4k

Edit : I know that this is short and it's maybe not as good as you would want it to be , but I'm having a really bad writer's block and a lot of things have been happening lately . Anyways I hope you liked it and again thatn you always for you love and support .

______________________________________________________________

It was currently 02:34 a.m. and Optimus was searching for you in the whole entire base .

He was starting to get worried after Rachet told him that he hasn't seen you in the past couple of days .

The Autobots had a lot of things that they were dealing with and Optimus was trying to keep up .

The young ones were not cooperative at all and Rachet and Ironhide were starting to get tired of dealing with them .

Optimus was feeling disappointed at himself for not spending more time with you and he knew that at this time of the year every student was trying the hardest .

After a few minutes he finally found you .

Dead asleep on your desk , laptop open with your homework , paperwork all over the place , a black pen on your right hand , your mouth slightly open with salive drooling .

He smiled at your image but at the same time , he felt so bad .

Awful .

He cursed the education system and immediately cursed at himself .

He was feeling guilty .

" Y/N wake up , it's not good for you too sleep like this . " He said to you while slightly tapping at your shoulder .

You slowly woke up from your slumber feeling too tired an unable to do anything .

" Thanks for waking me up . I need to finish this real quick and then I'll head of to bed . You should go and rest too . I'm fine . " You replied , but you were not getting out of this situation that easily .

" If you don't go to bed immediately I will pick you up myself " He said back to you and with that you stood up going to your bedroom , with your dad following you close .

" I will finish the homework for you , but you need to go and get some rest . Sleep . The exams will finish tomorrow , but you need strength for that . So go now , get some rest . " He said while turning his back to you , ready to leave .

" Dad ? Thanks . Thanks for being supportive . Goodnight . " You said to him .

" I love you and stop being so hard on yourself . " He said to you last and with that he left .

You said a quiet I love you dad back and closed your door .

_____

Optimus was right .

Sleep was all you needed .

You finished your last exam feeling finally relaxed and relieved .

" Dad thanks again . I got an B+ on math thanks to you . " You said to him while sitting at the base .

" It's my pleasure Y/N , just remember that that you don't have to be so hard on yourself and everything will be just fine . "

You discussed about many different things , until the other Autobots came to sit with you .

" Hey Ironhide I got a B+ on math thanks to dad . " You said happily to the old bot .

" Are you serious right now ? " Ironhide asked making you fell bad .

" Optimus are you stupid ? A B+ ? " Ironhide said to your dad making all the other bots laugh .

" It was Y/N that wrote exam . Not me . I just helped . " Your father answered making all the bots laugh again .

Let's just say that everybody had a great time .

You were looking at everyone being grateful for all your friends , but more grateful for Optimus .

More grateful for you dad .

And you thought I love you dad .

_____

@imachaoticghost

@unimportantbabymilksharkte

[ghostlychief]

Dude I just loved your Ghost fic with his scary wife, it was so ✨chefs kiss✨

Could you please write a fic about how the MW2 men would react to reader letting loose in the club after a mission? Just the concept of a cold, badass woman who can handle herself in the field and is a total man-eater that has the moves™️ + the men's reactions (mayhaps with a crumb of nsfw👀) is JUST DOBDISHDONDOSHDINSKWE I BEG PLEASE

HELLO!! thank you sm for your request <3 I took some liberties but i really hope you enjoy what i threw together for you!! (and there is a crumb of nsfw, so i hope you enjoy the tiniest of crumb i gave you lmao) ALSO, thank you sm for saying you really like my other Ghost fic, it means so much to hear that <33333 thank you sm for reading!

ENJOY, SWEETIE

--

Dancing Queen

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol drinking; foreplay? slight fingering; nothing too smutty but MINORS DNI; seriously, if you're a minor pls do not read.

wc: 2.2k

a/n: i'll edit tomorrow, but sorry for any typos!

---

You were pretty revered on task force 141. You were the youngest on the team of burly men but you were one of the most skilled members on the force. And, you took yourself very seriously, almost too seriously some would say.

But who could blame you? You were a woman in a male dominated field. You had to be serious, had to be cold. Especially in the armed forces. This line of work was just as bad if not worse than the financial sector, you know, with all the finance bros. Actually, it was worse, but just by a hair.

So, due to your highly stressful and sometimes misogynistic job, you liked to let loose, have fun on the weekends. It was really the only time where you could fully relax and let yourself go. Alcohol helped of course. You loved going to clubs, bars, restaurants, hell anywhere really. As long as it helped you forget the week you had, helped you soothe the aches and pains that came with the job.

Surprisingly you found that your internal team, therefore task 141, weren’t such pricks after all. You thought they would be all misogynistic pigs, and treat you worse than their male colleagues. No, you were proven wrong. Something that doesn’t happen often. You were smart after all.

Sooner than later, you found yourself growing fonder of your team, and you considered them your closest friends. You know, big shock. You weren’t expecting your closest friends to be your work buddies as well.

You also sprouted a crush for one of your team members. Who could blame you? He was tall, dark, handsome, and mysterious. Always sporting that black balaclava, only leaving his eyes privy to your vision. You have only seen him without his signature mask a few times, most of them being when he was drunk, and out with the team.  

But who doesn’t like intrigue?

Fast forward to this Friday. You found that Friday is your favorite day to go out. You realized that you still have all of Saturday to relax, sleep, and recover and then it’s Sunday. The dreadful day in which work starts the next.

So here you were, getting ready to do out tonight with 141. You typically styled your hair your favorite way, did a full glam of make-up, and pre-gamed to make sure you would be a solid drunk by the time you had at least one drink at the bar. This was your time to shine, to have fun for once. You weren’t going to pass it up. Hence, your lovely make-up and outfits that made any jaw drop to the floor.

By the time you were finished getting ready, you felt a slight buzz in your system, and you felt good, felt pretty. You were ready for a night out. Specifically, you were ready for a night out with Ghost.

You found it much, much easier to talk to the intimidating guy when you were slightly buzzed, or better yet, drunk. Was it healthy? Probably not. But who’s perfect, right?

Even though you were a force to be reckon with yourself, the man still intimated you. Maybe it was because of the feelings that started developing in the pits of your stomach. You couldn’t help it when your heart clenched every time you saw him, or every time his blue eyes met your own.

It was getting bad, and you were worried it was going to start to effect your performance at work, which was unacceptable.

So, what do you do to deal with all these feelings? You drink of course!

Hey, you’re still in your twenties, it’s a pass.

You get a text from Soap in the GM that your guys’ uber is at your place. It was decided that you would ride with Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.

You saw the uber in front of your building, so you made your way to the back seat. You figured that Ghost would be in the front, so you open the door and tease, “Gaz, you need to take the middle seat because you’re the shortest out of all of us.”

However, you weren’t met with Gaz’s chocolate eyes when you swung open the door. No, you were met with Ghost’s large frame, and confused expression as you mistakenly talk to him instead of Gaz.

“You want me to sit in the middle?” Ghost points a finger at himself.

You hear Gaz snicker from the front seat. I’ll get him later.

You disguise your embarrassment with a cough, “Oh! No, no, no. I mean, we can’t have the tallest teammate sit in the middle now can we?” You flash Ghost what you’re hoping is your best smile. Dammit why did I drink so much getting ready?

Ghost just grunts in confirmation and gets out of the vehicle.

You clamber your way in only to find Soap with a  shit-eating grin, sitting in the back as well.

“Hello, Soap.” Your tone is clipped, which makes his grin widen even more.

Ghost gets in finally, but once he’s finally settled, you find yourself literally squished between Soap and Ghost.

“Can either of you move over or something? I’m being squeezed to death.”

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it, y/n.”

You really, hope Ghost didn’t just hear what Soap said, but it’s unlikely. You hit him in the shoulder, “First rounds on you, asshole.”

Soap raises his hands in a truce. “Alright, alright. Don’t get mad at me.”

You were only annoyed because Soap was right. You did like being squished up against Ghost. How embarrassing. Stupid feelings. Who even has time for feelings anymore?

You all finally make it to the club, and you make a beeline for the bar. As promised, Soap orders you, as well as Ghost and Gaz a round of drinks. You all cheer’s, then you down your shot. At this point, you’re definitely drunk.

The guys get another drink as you observe the dance floor. They take two more shots, and you take one more.

After your last shot, you let them know that you’re going to go dance. They all toast you, and then you’re off to the dance floor.

You start moving to the beat, letting the music take over your body, letting it carry you away from all your problems.

It’s only a few minutes in when you notice that they’re playing your favorite song. You rush back over to the guys, and excitedly shout, “They’re playing my favorite song! Do any of you want to dance with me?”

Before anyone could really respond, Soap is clapping Ghost on the shoulder, and pushing him towards you, “Ghost would love to.”

If you weren’t so drunk, you would have noticed Ghost send a glare to his friend. But not out of despite, more out of nervousness.

You clap your hands, so excited that someone is joining you, much different than your usually demeanor at work. Then you grasp Ghost’s hand in yours and lead him to the floor, leaving a grinning Soap and Gaz.

Gaz just sighs before saying, “Why do you always have to butt in?”

Soap just shrugs with a knowing smile on his face, “Because, they’d be good for each other, and both of them need a little nudge from someone to get the ball rolling.”

Once you and Ghost make it to the dance floor, you turn around to face him. You have the biggest smile he’s ever seen on your pretty face, and he can’t help but smile back.

You start moving to the music as before, but this time, Ghost wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you in close to him. So close, that your chests are touching. He’s definitely buzzed, borderline drunk.

He leans his head down so his lips are brushing against your ear, “I didn’t know you were quite the dancer.”

His breath tickles, and you let out a laugh, tightening your arms that have found their way around his neck.

“Don’t you know? I’m the dancing queen.” You let out a laugh, and pull him closer.

He laughs as well and you both continue swaying to the beat, that is, until a more up-tempo song starts to play. Before you know it, Ghost has spun you around, so now your back is facing his front.

His large hands make their way to your waist, gripping tightly. But not too tightly in which it hurts. It’s more so a comforting hold. You feel secure, like you would never trip and fall in his embrace.

You lean your head back so it’s resting on Ghost’s chest, and you feel him dip his head to meet yours. The height difference is making you dizzy, making you want more of him.

You feel him kiss down your neck, his lips searing your skin as they map you out. He makes his way back up and nips at your earlobe, which has you letting out a small yelp. But you lean further into him, signaling him to continue on.

Your hands come up to rest on top of his, and you squeeze them. You’ve never felt this exhilarated, and Ghost’s touches leave sparks in their wake, igniting you.

As he continues to kiss down your neck, you take one of your hands that’s grasping his, and start to lead it to the top of your skirt. He seems to get the idea, and continues his hand down until it’s grazing your upper thigh, lifting your skirt ever the slightest.

He subtly brings his fingers under your skirt to graze your underwear. The dance floor is so packed, that no one will notice.

The feeling of his fingers pressing on your bud has your head spinning and you let out a soft whine. It’s just faint enough that only Ghost can hear it. His hand goes further and pushes your underwear to the side. He teases your entrance without entering a finger into you and he brings his thumb up to press down on your clit. Which makes you let out another low pitch whine.

Your hand trails down to find his, as if to ground yourself. From what, you don’t even know. You just need to feel him more. More so than you already are.

All too soon, he removes his hand from your and brings it back up to cup your waist, then he spins you around so you’re facing him. What a fucking tease.

You crane your neck to glance up at him and you don’t know who moved in first. But what you do know is that you’re kissing Ghost. His lips lock with yours and it feels like it was always meant to be.

You trail your hands up so they play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. Twirling the hair around the tips of your fingertips. The kiss you share feels infinite, like it was mapping out the very constellations around you.

You never wanted it to end.

All too soon he pulls away, and brings his hands up to cup your face. His forehead is pressed up against yours, and he holds you so gently.

“I just had to do that, at least once.” He sounds breathless, and you fight the urge to pull him down to you again, at his confession.

“Why just once?” You’re just as breathless, if not more as you ask him this.

You don’t want this to end here, you can’t let it end here. You like him too much, too much that your heart hurts at the thought of letting him go.

Ghost peels himself from you, but his hands are still ever so gently cupping your sweet face. His thumbs rub under your eyes, on the apple of your cheeks, as he looks fondly down at you. He’s looking at you as if you created all the planets in the solar system, and hung up the stars as well.

“Because I know you deserve better.”

His admission tugs at your heartstrings, “Bullshit. You don’t get to tell me what’s good for me and what isn’t.”

It was true. You had to decide for yourself.

“Is that so?” A smirk forms on his lips.

You’re glad the air has turned back into something light, something teasing. That’s something you could deal with. Not the heavy shit that was threatening you before.

You bring your hands once again to his and grasp them, “Yes, it is, so you better get used to it.”

Ghost just lets out a laugh and then swiftly pulls you into a bone crushing hug. He rests his head on top of yours. You swear you feel a faint pressure atop your head, almost like a kiss laid upon your hair.

His words get muffled into your hair, but you make them out just the same. “Why don’t we finish what we started, but in a more private place, hm?”

You tighten your hold on him, words stifled into his chest as your answer, “Sounds like a plan to me.”

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Ghost Masterlist

hope you enjoyed! <3