#blue has 2 moods

[miyuskye]

Which isagi are you today?

[wannabemasterofwindintraining]

What level of furry are those chima guys

[yueebby]

2 + 1 — gojo satoru

synopsis. two times megumi thinks gojo is a lost cause and one time he approves of the white haired idiot

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, ooc, misogyny (from the clan heads), he is so pathetic for his wife (nauseating!), slight yandere behavior, violence, in megumi’s pov, not proofread eep

notes. can you tell i've been obsessed with the apothecary diaries? >< also how long has it been since i've posted a fic? anyways... enjoy!

fushiguro megumi has always wondered how that blue eyed idiot managed to marry you. he must have resorted to underhanded tactics; or at least that's what the sea urchin suspects. though he's never voiced it, the question has bothered him since the day he first encountered the both of you.

nobara clicks her tongue. “this is borderline creepy.” her orange eyes are filled with nothing short of distaste.

“there’s more too,” megumi’s voice responded, carefully flipping the page. the delicate artifact in his hand is something that he should have not touched. perhaps he should have wrapped it with a talisman and destroyed it while he had the chance.

it was too late for that anyway, because not even a second later, gojo satoru bursts through the shoji doors of the classroom. 

with eyes blown wide as if they were caught committing a crime (they were), the first years who had pulled three seats up to a singular desk stare at him. satoru's eyes widen behind his blindfold as he catches sight of the object of their focus.

there lies in the middle of the wooden desk was the physics textbook that all first year jujutsu tech students were required to read. however, this wasn’t just any plain old textbook. it was gojo satoru’s former textbook. brimmed with doodles of their beloved [name] sensei and gojo himself when they were back in highschool.

any free space that was not filled with words were taken up by drawings of you inside of hearts and sometimes a depiction of a chibi version of the two of you.

a true testament to gojo satoru’s pining and devotion to you.

“sensei, we can explain–” yuji attempts to explain himself but gojo holds up a hand to silence the boy. 

unlike you, megumi finds it a lot more challenging to read the white haired sorcerer’s expression with the blindfold on. he wonders if his punishment will be a painful beating disguised as a sparring session (megumi will run to you, who will scare gojo into backing down). you have that effect on him.

it seems like the heavens have answered megumi’s prayers because gojo satoru doesn’t seem to harbor any anger at his shocking revelation.

“i can’t believe you guys found this old thing.” satoru dismisses his students’ personal space by leaning closely to observe the pages. the black haired boy makes a noise of disapproval, but was quickly cut off by his benefactor. “megumi, be grateful that i’m in a good mood today.” he doesn’t elaborate the ominous message, rather choosing to hum happily as he studies his own drawings.

megumi is smart enough to keep his mouth shut. 

“i never took you to be the pathetic type,” kugisaki continues to flip through the pages of the textbook. yuji nods furiously, as if to agree to her observation.

“you seriously never noticed?” megumi mutters under his breath.

gojo places a strong hand on megumi’s back, a languid smile on his face, “it was only natural, considering the lengths i had to go through to win her over.” he ignores the way megumi gasps for air.

“seriously?” itadori asks in disbelief.

“seriously.” gojo confirms wholeheartedly.

megumi shudders, recollecting memories of times before gojo tied you down for good.

2009

“sorry i’m late!” gojo bursts through the dingy apartment door with a convenience store bag in his arm. he was breathing heavily, an indication that he had run to the apartment. an uninterested seven year old megumi doesn’t bother leaving his place on the couch to greet his benefactor.

“they’re in the kitchen,” he says in his monotone voice, eyes never leaving the book that you had just gifted him.

“they?” gojo walks up to megumi to ruffle his hair aggressively. he receives a hiss in return.

“tsumiki and [name]?” the black haired kid says it like it was obvious. his sentence is accompanied with an eyeroll.

at the mention of your name, gojo immediately perks up. megumi imagines that if he were a cat, his ears would be swiveling and his nose twitching, attuned to pick up any trace of your presence. he had just learned that from the nonfiction book in his lap. 

“[name]?! here? now?” gojo’s eyebrows are raised all the way to his forehead. the white haired sorcerer immediately started fixing his uniform and hair. megumi thinks it was comical. he was a lost cause.

the snarky look on his face is quickly wiped off when he sees gojo leaning down, mouth wide open.

“oi brat, check my breath,” gojo opens his mouth wide for megumi to check. the black haired kid shrivels up into the couch the further gojo leans down. megumi considers summoning his newly discovered jujutsu technique, hoping to avoid his fate.

“—toru? what are you doing?” your voice, like a divine intervention, stops gojo from sending megumi to the depths of despair. a sigh of relief escapes his lips.

now it was his turn to watch gojo squirm. the older male’s face contorts to an awkward smile and all of a sudden gojo is reduced to nothing but a mess.

“don’t worry about it darling!” gojo slowly turns around to face you. “agh—?!”

megumi has to peek around satoru’s big frame to see what elicited such a response from the man.

he’s met with a wave of underwhelming familiarity. there you stand, clad in a frilly apron with a wooden spoon in hand, the essence of domesticity incarnate. the soft glow of the warm kitchen lights dances around you, casting a warm aura that seems to envelop the room.

“welcome home, satoru.” you give him your signature closed eye smile. “i mean, you probably don’t consider it your home but—“

you’re cut off by satoru banging his head on the nearest wall repeatedly. he’s muttering something under his breath that you don’t hear.

to his dismay, megumi's keen ears catch every syllable. satoru's voice, though hushed, carries a hint of longing, "what an angel," he whispers, his words laced with adoration. "just marry me already."

unamused, he watches while you try to desperately pry gojo from his strange outburst.

a lost cause indeed.

2009

in that very year, megumi learns that gojo’s efforts to win your affection had yielded no progress. it had become increasingly apparent that his frequent visits to megumi and tsumiki's humble home were motivated to immerse himself in the semblance of domesticity that your presence offered. megumi almost pitied the man, if it wasn’t for the fact that he knew you deserve someone more sensible.

me

[name]

[nameeeee]

i’m dying.

and it’s your fault t^t

[name] ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

excuse me?

me

i’ll have you know that i worked the hardest that i have ever worked to finish all of my paperwork so i could see you tonight… only to find out from megumi that you’re on a date?!!?

i feel like my chest is caving in. 

i’m going to throw up.

[name] ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

oh this is what you’re interrupting my date for?

me

i’m going to be sick.

please tell me, is he hotter than me? wealthier? funnier?

megumi quickly looks away from gojo’s phone screen when the white haired male slams it shut and mutters under his breath a couple of curses. he’s pretty sure half of them were death threats.  honestly, couldn't you have attracted someone with more dignity?

“change of plans,” gojo claps his hands together. “movie night’s off.”

“what?” megumi protests, confusion etched in his features.

“our beloved [name] is getting swept off of her feet. you wouldn’t want that to happen, right?” gojo continues, his tone light but his gaze sharp as it bores into megumi's soul. something unpleasant coils in the pit of his stomach.

megumi feels a chill run down his spine, his mind racing with the implications of gojo's words. if you choose to date this new guy, he realizes, you won't need him or gojo anymore. and that thought terrifies him. it pains megumi to feed into gojo's delusions.

but he can’t let this unnamed suitor steal you away.

a wolfish grin makes its way to gojo’s mouth when he realizes that he’s won.

“what's the plan?”

2016

it was only years later that megumi had seen the true monster that lurks inside of gojo satoru. 

on a hot summer evening, amidst a gathering of esteemed clan heads, he and satoru found themselves in a traditional chamber. while the finer details of the meeting escape his memory, the image of the room that altered his perception of gojo satoru is etched in his mind indefinitely. the wooden walls, adorned with subtle yet elegant designs, speak volumes about the room’s significance as a venue for the most influential members of jujutsu society.

throughout the meeting, he finds himself driving in and out of focus, content to let his mentor represent the gojo clan. however, his attention is abruptly seized by a particular remark that cuts through the haze of his thoughts.

“how’s that whore of yours, gojo?” a clan head jeered, clearly drunk on the sake that was constantly refilled by the servant on the side. his flushed complexion is scarcely discernible thanks to the dim glow emanating from the few lanterns scattered around the room. 

there was only one person he could have been referring to: you. underneath the wooden table, his fingers tightened painfully into fists. pretentious bastards, megumi thinks.

another geezer rubbed his beard thoughtfully, “she has a nice body. perfect to be a concubine, but i would marry a more submissive woman.”

megumi's gaze stealthily darts towards gojo, seated beside him.

he’s startled to find the white-haired man wears a wide grin that belies a hidden truth. unseen by the elders before them, lurking beneath gojo's outward expression, is a manic gleam in his eyes—a revelation that sends a shiver down megumi's spine.

“i’d hold my tongue if i were you.” gojo satoru’s voice was dripping with venom. he sounded downright murderous.

"i'm right, am i not? we can share her if you'd like- name the price." the drunkard continues loudly.

megumi senses an instinctive wave of primal dread washing over him, compelling him with an urgent, almost instinctual need to flee or die.

before he can move a muscle, the flames that surround the room flicker before extinguishing in succession by an unknown force. the metallic stench of blood fills the air and all he can hear is the sound of flesh mutilating and bones crushing accompanied by the painful shouts of the men that once sat in front of him. he doesn’t have to see it with his own eyes to be able to sense gojo’s strong curse residue that suffocates the room.

“stand up megumi. we’re leaving.” his voice carries a feral edge, leaving no room for objection.

on their way out of the compound, the two don’t utter a word at what had just transpired. 

megumi's gaze remains fixed on the ground beneath his feet, the images of the recent events swirling in his mind, leaving him unsettled and shaken. with each step, he grapples with the unsettling realization that beneath gojo satoru's charismatic facade lies a darker, more sinister nature.

the strongest sorcerer of today, riled up by the mere mention of your name.

megumi supposes he doesn’t feel much remorse for those clan heads anyway. he was never the type to mourn over people he didn’t know dying. especially not people who he knew would live on to do evil. it doesn’t help that they were blatantly disrespecting you. perhaps he could sympathize with the monster inside of gojo.

oblivious to the turmoil that stirs inside of megumi, gojo starts to smile.

“i know what you’re going to say,” gojo hums happily. “gojo sensei, you’re so cool! i approve of you marrying my beloved [name]! kyaa~’” he makes a pathetic attempt to imitate megumi. 

the black haired boy grunts. he was going to say something along the lines of his approval for his benefactor, but all desires of flattering the white haired sorcerer disappeared.

gojo watches the black haired boy intently before tutting.

“not that it matters.” megumi is startled to hear how his voice dropped an octave. “i was always going to marry [name] and i’ll be damned to let anyone stop me.” 

2018 – present day

after satiating his students with tales from his pining days, your husband comes home often clingier than normal (is that even possible?). the moment satoru enters your home, his arms envelop you, caging you in his hold.

you can't help but giggle as his hair brushes against the side of your neck, his embrace pulling you in close, as if he's inhaling your presence.  his muscles flex when you attempt to slip away, keeping you in his tight embrace.

“sato– what is going on?!” 

“is it a crime to show my wife some love?” he kisses your neck. when his flurry of kisses stop, he resorts to absorbing all of your features with those cerulean eyes of his.

you don’t bother pushing him away again, choosing to thread your fingers through his soft hair. even after all these years, you will never not feel the effect of satoru’s eyes on you.

“i was telling my first years about you today,” he says softly.

you smile, “is that so?”

he pushes his nose into your neck again, nodding.

“you’re so good to them,” you whisper. despite the initial shock behind satoru choosing to pursue education, you’re extremely proud of how far he’s come.

“mhm,” satoru inhales. “i’d be good to our little ones too.” one of his hands sneak to your stomach.

you delicately guide his face away from your form, your fingers tenderly urging him to meet your gaze. "is there something you want to tell me?" you inquire softly, your eyes reflecting the warmth of your affection.

satoru's smirk deepens, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "perhaps," he murmurs, his touch light as he guides you towards the bedroom. without hesitation, you yield to his lead, eager at his sudden intimate gesture.

from outside your home, three first year students stand, waiting for their sensei’s cue to enter.

“do you think he’s forgotten about us?” yuji furrows his eyebrows, hands full of grocery bags that were going to be prepared for dinner.

extra notes. had the idea of gojo and megumi crashing your date in my drafts for so long. maybe ill elaborate on it if the ppl want to see :,)

[rafecameronssl4t]

Officially your bitch || Rafe Cameron x Thornton!reader

Summary: basically what happened in s1 ep 2 when Sarah is getting a teddy from the boat with Rafe, Kelce, and Topper watching but obvs slightly different. (you being the one faking being hurt)

Warnings: swearing, mention of gun,

Word count: 977

A/n: canon fics are so fun to write 😫

MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)

Divider by @yoonitos

mood board here

"Jeez, man, this is nuts." Topper lets out a low whistle, staring at a boat nestled in someone's garden bed. "Agatha's a bitch," Rafe mutters. "Damn right, she is," Kelce adds as the three boys gape at the sight.

"I can't get it outta my head. It's on repeat. 'Your move, broski.'" Topper repeats JJ's words from a couple nights ago, when a gun was pointed at his head. "Bro, he had a semiautomatic pointed right at you!" Kelce chimes in.

"That's what I'm saying. It's insane!" Topper scoffs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Safety off!" he emphasizes, his voice rising. Kelce shakes his head, his expression a mix of disbelief and disdain. "That pogue," he mutters, his tone dripping with contempt.

Rafe, who had been staring intently at the waterline, snaps back to the conversation. His gaze sharpens as he looks at his friends. "They're freakin' pogues, man," he declares, his voice tinged with a mix of anger and exasperation.

"You know, you should get a piece," Rafe suggests, his voice steady as he looks at Topper. The gravity of his words hangs in the air. "What do you mean?" Topper asks, a puzzled expression crossing his face as he turns to Rafe.

"You gotta fight fire with fire and defend the homestead," Rafe replies matter-of-factly, as if it's the most logical solution in the world. "Better than being caught without one," Kelce shrugs, offering his own brand of nonchalant support. Rafe nods in agreement, his gaze unwavering.

"Listen guys, I'm gonna get him back, all right? I'm making it a little project of mine," Topper reassures them. Rafe hums approvingly, patting his friend's back. "Yeah, you should," he affirms with a smirk.

Kelce suddenly taps Rafe's shoulder. "Yo, that's y/n." Rafe and Topper turn their heads in unison, their curiosity piqued. They see you kneeling on one knee, talking gently to Joy, your mum's best friend's little daughter.

"Oh, so you left her in the boat?" you ask softly, your voice filled with understanding. Joy nods, her eyes wide with worry. "Okay, can you tell me what she looks like?" you stand up, smoothing down your shorts. Joy looks up at you, her face serious. "She has a trunk and blue eyes," she replies, her small voice clear.

The three boys watch intently as you smile reassuringly at Joy. "Okay, I'm gonna get her for you," you say, turning towards the boat. "Be careful of the electricity," Joy quietly warns. You smile to yourself, touched by her concern, and tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you carefully step onto the boat.

"Don't worry, I'll be okay. It's really dangerous, so stay there, okay?" you reassure Joy with a confident smile. Rafe, standing a few feet away, removes his sunglasses, his eyes narrowing as he watches your every move. "What's she doing?" he mutters to no one in particular, his concern evident.

"Watch her fall and make a big drama out of it," your brother scoffs, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He crosses his arms, clearly unimpressed by your antics. Rafe glances at Topper, eyebrows raised. "Hey! There's 14,000 volts in those wires," Joy's mum calls out urgently from the porch, her voice filled with anxiety.

You take a slow, deliberate step onto the plank, feeling it wobble slightly under your weight. With a mischievous grin, you glance back at the onlookers, enjoying the attention. A quiet shriek escapes your lips as you pretend to lose your balance for a moment.

"Hey, y/n, be careful!" Rafe hollers, his voice louder and more urgent now. He takes a step forward, his body tense with concern. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," your mum mutters as she walks out onto the yard, her face a mask of frustration and fear. "Y/n, get down now!" she shouts, her tone a mix of anger and desperation.

"Mum, calm down. I'm an athlete. I got this," you reply playfully, flashing her a reassuring smile as you continue your careful approach toward the boat. Your confidence does little to ease the tension among the onlookers. The plank creaks under your weight, but you maintain your balance,

"You're gonna get electrocuted! Get down!" your mum screams, her voice trembling with panic. You ignore her, your focus on the gentle sway of the boat as you step onto it. "She just wants attention," Topper mutters, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Are you kidding me?" your mum persists, her tone growing more frantic. You turn to face her, a playful grin spreading across your face as you shimmy your shoulders, teasingly.

"Oh my—no. When I tell your dad about this, y/n!" Your mum exclaims, her voice a mix of exasperation and genuine fear. "Y/n, that's not fucking funny," Rafe yells in annoyance, his frustration bubbling to the surface. He watches you with a mixture of concern and irritation, unable to shake off the worry that gnaws at him.

"Little fried y/n," Topper comments, a smirk playing on his lips as he observes the scene unfold. Kelce looks at him, puzzled by the comment, but Topper simply shrugs it off. "Top, your sister's crazy, man," Kelce remarks, shaking his head in disbelief as Topper snorts, "Tell me about it."

With a knowing smile, you reach the boat and spot the disconnected wire exactly where you expected it to be. "I see her!" you call out across the yard as you place a steady hand on the boat.

"Y/n!" your mum's voice echoes for what feels like the hundredth time, a mixture of frustration and genuine concern laced in her tone. "When I tell your dad—" Her words are abruptly cut off by your convincing scream as you pretend to slip into the boat. "Fuck—" Rafe's reaction is immediate, his instincts kicking in as he rushes forward.

After a few seconds, you grab the cord, swinging it in front of you with a smile. Kelce breaks out in laughter at your prank, the sound mingling with the collective sighs of everyone watching. Rafe's face fills with relief and annoyance as his tongue pokes agains this inner cheek. "It's disconnected!" you announce with a laugh.

"Holy shit!" Kelce smacks Rafe's shoulder, his eyes wide with amusement as he looks at you, clearly annoyed and unimpressed. "For the love of God," your mum mutters as she slips her sunglasses back on and strides away, clearly needing a moment to recover from the prank.

"She got you good, man," Kelce snickers, unable to hide his laughter at Rafe's bewildered expression. "Absolute suckers!" you crow from the boat, your laughter ringing out triumphantly. "Babe, you should see your face," you giggle, retrieving Joy's teddy bear. "Yeah, okay, yeah, I'm sorry that I care. All right, guilty," Rafe throws his hands up in mock surrender though his face expression remained annoyed.

As Rafe stands there, still trying to process what just happened, he feels a hand on his shoulder. "Congrats, dude. You're officially her bitch," Topper says with a smirk, offering his congratulations in his own unique way. Rafe rolls his eyes at the jest.

"Alright." Topper gives Rafe a hearty pat on the back. "Officially, did you know that? You're officially her bitch, alright?" Topper's laughter rings out as he teases Rafe, but Rafe isn't having any of it. With a swift motion, he slaps away Topper's hand. "Shut the fuck up, dude," he grumbles, shaking his head in annoyance before striding over to you.

"See! Just further proved my point, bro!" Topper yells amidst his laughter, clearly enjoying the reaction he's getting. Kelce joins in, chuckling at the playful banter unfolding before him.

Rafe reaches you, offering his hand despite his lingering annoyance. You giggle at the exchange, finding his frustration amusing. "Are you fucking crazy?" Rafe spits, his irritation evident, but you can't help but laugh at his reaction.

"Aww, I love you too, babe," you playfully pout, quickly kissing his lips before turning your attention back to Joy, handing her teddy bear over with a smile. Rafe stands there with a defeated look, unable to stay mad for long.

[chithereader]

l-o-v-e / aaron hotchner

part 2 to jealousy, jealousy!!!! word count: 2.1k pairing: aaron hotchner x f!bau!reader, shy!reader genre & cw: hotch being so in love!! jealousy plot, made-up case, and different use of cm character a/n: i got so much love for jealousy, jealousy it has been so surprising to me how much u guys loved it!! i really hope you enjoy this part 2 as we finally get some clarity to their feelings for each other!!

With your jaw slightly dropped, you manage to get out an “Uh..” Then you clear your throat as if that will make actual words come out then— “Uhh..” 

Now you didn’t know how long you were staring at Hotch. Yet somehow you were aware that the silence— your silence was stretching out for too long. Like a fish out of water, you continue to move your mouth soundlessly. 

And if you were actually underwater, you knew a series of air bubbles would come out in a line from your lips. 

Deep inside, Hotch was getting a little worried. That maybe he came on a little too strong. 

Was that too bold? Was that out of the blue? What if you think he’s joking? Or worse, what if you think he’s not taking you seriously? 

On the outside, Hotch is trying very hard to maintain his calm and collected composure, not letting too much emotion seep through his expression. Making sure he doesn’t look worried or too proud, too scared or too smug. 

The small smile on his face is one that he hopes to convey what he means: that he seriously likes you and that he doesn’t mean to embarrass you. But it is a smile that slowly fades the more he sees the panic growing in your eyes. 

Loud clapping shakes you both out of your individual worries as Derek teasingly cheers for the development in your romance— hooting and whooping about how the boss man has finally made his move. 

As if suddenly remembering that there are other people in the room, you both look around to check the other team members’ faces. 

To your surprise, Reid is blushing even more than you and Hotch are, and to absolutely no one’s surprise, Rossi is looking straight at Hotch with a smug grin. Raising his hands theatrically slow to clap painfully slow for his best friend. 

“My man.” Derek proudly says still clapping, and if he was brave enough to risk losing a hand tonight, he would have stood up to pat his boss on the back. 

Hotch shakes his head bashfully, cheeks turning increasingly red.  He looks down at his shoes to hide his face a bit, mumbling a low, “Shut up.” 

But Rossi being Rossi, was not gonna let the moment go, “I gotta say, Hotch, I didn’t think you’d ever do it…or anything actually.” 

Looking at Hotch, you start to giggle. He’s got his head facing the ceiling, acting playfully exasperated at his team’s antics. No doubt already regretting his public expression a little bit. 

But the laughter dies down into soft giggles, and he straightens a little to look at you. Catching your eye, you smile back at him softly, also hoping that he’d understand what you’re saying with that little smile. I like you too. Don’t worry, you didn’t embarrass me. 

Hotch’s worries are instantly quieted by your smile. Like dust settling on the ocean floor, he feels at peace. 

Your little staring moment though, is suddenly interrupted by his cell ringing. And the room’s mood sombers knowing that there can only be one reason someone will call one of your cells late at night— a new body was just found. 

—

It’s 7:00am and the sun has risen brightly. Reid and Rossi went to the ME with the body to further examine what’s been done. Meanwhile you, Morgan, Seaver and Hotch stay behind at the crime scene, knowing a fresh scene can tell you the most right now.

You’ve been staying close to Morgan as he theorizes the unsub’s movements. Following and coming up with theories of your own in terms of the order of the unsub’s entry and exit. 

But as much as you are focused on the case, you look at Hotch and Seaver every now and then, who are interviewing witnesses and authorities on the side. 

Hotch catches you looking at him and Seaver, just as Seaver holds on to his arm to fix the strap of her heel. You may have looked extra irritated but you’d blame it on the sun being on your face. 

Looking back at Derek who had gotten quiet, you find him smiling at you teasingly. Already aware of what you were just looking at— more like who. You roll your eyes at him, “Shut up, chocolate.”

Derek shakes his head as he laughs, taking his sunglasses from where it hung his shirt and wears it on you. 

“Calm down, Cyclops. You might just kill the two of them if you’re not careful.” 

You gasp at his audacity, watching his back as he walks away, not even giving you the chance to respond to his teasing. 

Not wanting to stare at his back any longer, you turn around to pick up right where you left off. Only to have the fright of your life seeing Hotch right in front of you. 

With a hand on your chest you catch your breath, “Oh my god! How even—“ One second he’s more than 6 feet away from you, the next second he’s not even 4 inches from you. 

Your heart beats even faster as Hotch’s hands reach up to your face to remove Derek’s sunglasses. “Morgan!”, he shouts and tosses Derek his glasses. 

Derek catches it instinctively and looks to the both of you in confusion, but Hotch looks back at you and takes his own sunglasses off his face to wear it on you. 

Seaver watches all of this unfold from behind Hotch, and you could see it annoyed her. But she puffs her chest and turns to the people she and Hotch were talking to, continuing the interviews they were conducting. 

— 

Now during the case, obviously there wasn’t really any time for you and Hotch to discuss the romance brewing between the two of you. Absolutely no time to indulge in personal matters at a time where other people’s lives depended on you. 

But that’s not to say that Hotch has not followed up his advances with more actions. Not at all— the complete opposite actually. 

He has only become increasingly affectionate and bolder with his actions. He seems to have given up on holding himself back around you. He’s constantly sitting beside you, placing his hand on your lower back as you walk, then he stands behind you constantly towering over you whenever, wherever. 

He’s even given you his handkerchief multiple times so you could wipe your sweat, and when you guys ordered takeout for the night, he made sure to unpack yours for you and hand you your utensils, even standing to get you water from the pantry before he even touches his food. 

He’s been crazy sweet and even more protective than usual, you almost didn’t need words to confirm how he feels about you… if it weren’t for Seaver who has also gotten bolder with her advances towards Hotch. Then I mean, maybe a little reassurance would be nice. 

It seems as if the recent development in yours and Hotch’s romance was something Seaver saw as a challenge- a hurdle she has to get over to win Hotch. 

Annoying you even more, when she arrived at the precinct the next day wearing a revealing top and tight pencil skirt. She looked good, you had to admit. 

Looking down at your own attire, with jeans, boots, and a plain shirt. You felt a little defeated. Obviously you weren’t going to attract Hotch being this plain. 

But you also wanted to be ready. The team was closing in on the unsub who has become more and more erratic, you could almost predict a chase and maybe even a tussle. 

You were standing beside Reid, looking at the board trying to uncover a pattern in the unsub’s dump sites when you heard an agitating little voice say, “Hotch, I think my top unbuttoned at the back. Could you get it for me?”

Tension instantly brews. The team, who has caught on to Seaver’s ploy early on, awaits your reaction. You could feel their gazes on your back, even from Reid who you could feel checking on you from the corner of his eye from where he stands to your right.

But you refuse to give in. You continue- more like pretend to- analyze the map on the board. Even tilting your head a little to sell that you’re really not paying attention to the two. However in all honesty, all your other senses are very much attuned to whatever’s happening behind you. 

Rossi cleared his throat, making you check the room’s reflection on the window on your left through the corner of your eye. And you watch as Seaver turns in her seat away from Hotch, anticipating him leaning close and putting his hands on her. 

Now you thought that since Hotch had an idea about how Seaver makes you feel, that he’d keep his distance. You know, set those boundaries to appease you. But to your surprise, Hotch leans over the distance between his chair and hers, and reaches over to button her top. 

You could feel your face heating up. You don’t know if he simply didn’t care, if he was oblivious, or if he did it on purpose. But now was not the time to act up and make a big deal out of something so trivial. You were all so close to catching the unsub, you poured your focus on the case instead. 

But you need a moment to yourself, maybe a little fresh air or even a pep talk in the bathroom mirror will do. Just as you were about to excuse yourself stepping back from the board, you hear Hotch close the file he was reading- before he was interrupted- loudly. 

His stern voice soon follows, “Just a little advice, Agent Seaver: if you’re assigned to the field, dress like it. Then you wouldn’t have to worry about buttons popping or heels snapping while you’re chasing an unsub or racing to save someone’s life.” 

You couldn’t stop yourself even if you wanted to. Their reflection on the window was blurry enough that you couldn’t make out their facial expressions, so when you hear Hotch’s stern voice your head snaps to look at him in surprise, not expecting him to be annoyed at Seaver given that he’d just helped her. 

You almost feel bad for Seaver who’s turning red in embarrassment. She’d obviously put together an outfit for Hotch. You all knew she was an outstanding agent, so to jeopardise her performance for a man’s attention seemed weird even for her. 

–

To your surprise, her advances towards Hotch did not stop even after his dig at her unprofessionalism. 

As you were all boarding a jet well into the night, exhausted from the long case, you all noticed Seaver subtly rushing to sit first. Unsurprisingly, she chose the seat beside Hotch’s usual seat. Acting normally, she pulled out a blanket settling in her seat. 

But Hotch, who has been behind you the whole time, was just shadowing your movements. The most exhausted out of all of you, he wasn’t even thinking about where he’ll sit. He was blindly following you like a puppy, with a hand on your waist as if to not get lost. 

He was actually just waiting for you to sit somewhere, then he’d sit beside you. So you chose a couple-seat on the far end of the jet, away from Seaver. Neither of you have the energy to deal with her antics. 

In a last attempt to get Hotch to her, Seaver calls out “Hotch, I saved you your seat!”, even opening up her arms that are covered by the blanket as if to invite him to her warmth. 

But Hotch only looks at her silently, blinking. Then in less than 10 seconds, Hotch takes your hand, intertwines it with his, kisses yours softly, and crosses his arms as he closes his eyes to sleep- leaving your hand somewhat trapped to his body. 

You’re surprised at the bluntness of his affection, considering most of your team members were looking at you after Seaver called him out. 

Stealing a glance at Seaver, you catch her shoulders drop before she settles back into her seat, while Morgan mouths to you “Told you,” from across her. 

Turning your head to look at Hotch, you can tell he isn’t asleep yet though his eyes are closed. You squeeze the hand intertwined with yours, trying to get it out of his grip and crossed arms– he opens his eyes to look at you and softly whines, “Stoopp.”

“Hey!” you whisper. 

He breathes out a grumpy, “What?” to which you smile softly and say, “Fine. I guess I’m your girl.” 

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[shockercoco]

Necessary Revenge

Art Donaldson x reader

Warnings - 18+, smut, sub!art, dirty talk, handjob, overstimulation

Word count - 2111

a/n - yeah this is definitely on the list of the dirtiest things i've written. by popular request, here's part 2 to Cheer Up, but it can also be read by itself. Also tysm for all the love on Cheer Up. Sorry this took so long, and I hope you enjoy :)

You hated it when Art teased you, which is exactly why he does it. All you want is a loving boyfriend who listens to you and does what you say, is that too much to ask? Apparently so.

Obviously, the only reasonable solution is to seek revenge. Unfortunately for Art, after being denied an orgasm earlier after a rough day, that’s exactly what you plan to do. Well, maybe not unfortunate since this is most likely what he wants. 

You were trying to study and watch playbacks of matches on your laptop to better your skills, but since you’re no longer in the mood, you decide you might as well close it.

After cleaning up your area, you head into the bedroom to see Art leaning against the headboard on his phone, his back propped by pillows. The television is on but on low volume, he always needed some type of background noise. Art glances up from his phone once he notices you walk in and can’t help the smirk that grows on his face. As soon as he looks back down, you shoot him a glare.

“Back for more?” Art asks.

Just you wait.

“Not exactly,” you tell him as you climb next to him on the bed, using the sweetest tone possible. You get yourself situated against the headboard with him, making sure you’re comfortable – you plan on being here a while. “What are you doing?” 

“Just texting Patrick, he’s complaining about the match he just lost and how he needs to find a way to improve.”

“Well, he always was a sore loser,” you say. Art hums and nods in agreement as he continues to text his best friend. He doesn’t make a move to continue the conversation, so you decide to begin your revenge plan.

You turn your attention to the tv hanging on the wall as you place your hand on Art’s thigh. He must be too into his phone since he doesn’t notice, so you continue to raise your hand higher along the fabric of his sweatpants.

Art’s body tenses as he feels your hand move up his body, his fingers frozen above the keyboard on his phone. You notice the questioning glance he gives you from the corner of your eye, but you continue to play innocent as you keep your attention forward.

You wait for Art’s focus to go back to his phone before drifting your hand even higher and stopping right over his crotch. You don’t hide the smile that starts to grow on your face as you feel his cock slowly starting to harden over your touch. Art’s breathing begins to shallow out as he tries to maintain his focus and keep his mind straight. Well, that is until you give his crotch a firm squeeze causing him to let out a small moan and his eyes to flutter.

“What are you doing?” he asks you, his voice low.

“What do you mean? I just want to spend some time with you,” you answer in a casual tone, but Art can see right through your facade. He can feel his heartbeat getting faster. You finally turn your head towards him to notice his blue eyes not slightly widened as he stares back at you. You notice the way his chest slowly rises and falls in anticipation as his grip tightens around his phone. “Is something wrong?”

He gulps. “N-No, just a question.”

“I’m pretty sure Patrick is waiting for you to text him back,” you say, nodding towards his screen. 

Art continues to stare for a few more seconds before nodding and looking back at his phone, but you don’t take your eyes off of him. You let your hand hover above him as you wait for him to send a few more messages out before beginning to palm him through his sweatpants.

Art bites his lip as he lets a whimper. His cock is at full attention now as your hand continues to move. The grip he has on his phone is faltering, his hands starting to tremble and his face completely flushed. When his hands fall into his lap along with his phone, you stop and raise your eyebrows.

“Pick it back up and continue texting him,” you command, your tone firm. His phone is vibrating non-stop from Patrick’s pettiness.

“Baby-.”

“I said continue,” you tell him. 

A look of desperation flashes across his face before he lifts his phone back up and responds to the messages. Your hand starts back up again, and Art lets out a noise, sounding like he wants to start crying. 

He’s falling apart with just a touch of your hand.

Art is starting to get annoyed at Patrick’s texts and wishes they would just stop so he could enjoy himself. He knows you’re not too pleased right now, but he doesn’t care. It just feels too good.

You lean your head into his neck for you to kiss just below his ear, his favorite spot and his weakness. “What’s wrong? You were so cocky earlier, where’s that same energy?”

A shiver runs through Art’s body at the feeling of your breath on his neck. He lets out another whine as he closes his eyes for a second before opening them back up. He’s looking at his phone, but given the fact that his head is starting to feel empty, he can’t really make out the words on the screen.

“You don’t have anything to say for yourself?” you taunt as you press down harder on Art’s crotch, causing him to buck up into your hand. 

You pull away from his neck to get a good look at his face, which now has a distant look on it. His mouth is ajar as he looks back at you. You tilt your head, waiting for him to respond to you, but all he does is whimper and pant. He’s a complete mess.

You bring him into a kiss by grabbing the back of his neck, which he happily gives in to. The kiss is filled with nothing but need – more on his end than yours. Art drops his phone on the bed next to him so he can grab your waist, pulling you even closer to him. He whimpers into your mouth as you give his hair a quick put firm tug.

He plunges his tongue into your mouth, needing even more from you. You allow it for a moment before pulling back just a little to wrap your lips around his tongue. Art lets his eyes roll into his head at the feeling of you sucking his tongue. He feels his climax coming quickly from the combined pleasure, and you can tell by the fact of him squirming under your touch more and more.

“You’re not going to cum without my permission are you?” you ask after pulling away from his mouth.

Art feels his eyes become heavy as his forehead pressed against yours. “No.”

“Good boy,” you smile, and that brings Art even closer to the edge. He removes his hand from your waist to grab a hold of the cover beneath him.

“Can I cum?” he pleads as he throws his head back against the headboard, your hand still on the back of his neck.

“Not yet.”

“Baby please,”he pleads again, his breathing speeding up.

“No,” you tell him, wanting to torture him.

“Baby I can’t. I-I can’t,” he stutters, his eyes squeezed shut and his brows furrowed.

“That’s too bad,” you tell him. You feel his hips stutter under your touch making it known that he’s about to cum anyways. You already knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer. 

Art lets out a cry as his orgasm floods through his body and shoots out of him. A wet patch begins to appear through his sweatpants as you keep on pressing against him. He continues to roll his hips into your hand as he rides his orgasm out, a string of gasps falling out of his mouth.

“Oh no,” you fake pout, “Looks like you didn’t make it.”

“I’m sorry, I tried,” he pants as he opens, looking down at the stain on his pants before making eye contact with you. A look of embarrassment falls on his face.

He’s so cute.

You move your hand away from him. “What a shame,” you shake your head in fake disappointment. There’s a moment of silence before you say, “pull your pants down.”

“What?” Art asks, confused. He thought you were done, but he was so wrong.

“You heard me,” you say in a plain tone. 

Art hesitates before shimmying his pants down his legs to his knees, along with his underwear. You look down to see a mess of his cum covering his shaft, and as you take a look at his underwear, you see some sticking to the fabric. His cock is red and starting to soften, but that’s going to change.

Art gives you a look of realization as he lifts his head from the headboard once it registers in his mind what you’re about to do. “Please don’t.”

You ignore his request as you wrap your hand around his shaft. He jumps at the feeling of your cold hand around him, still sensitive from his orgasm. You stare into his eyes as you begin moving your hand up and down. Art lets out a pathetic whine as his body jerks, trying to escape your touch, but it doesn’t work.

“You know, you’re just so easy,” you tease.

“Baby, please-,” Art cuts himself off with a whimper, his hips starting to writhe against the cover.

“Please what? You should be thankful that I’m doing this, unlike how you denied me my orgasm earlier,” you tell him. “I’m letting you cum as many times as you want.”

“Oh my god,” he says as he drops his head. His voice strangled as his second orgasm unexpectedly arrives. You watch as his cum lands on your hands and the bottom of his white shirt. 

A sticky and wet sound echoes through the room as your hand speeds up around him. Art’s mouth falls open as his breathing picks up once again. He looks at you, silently begging, but you ignore him once again. You remove the hand from behind his neck and place it on one of his legs to help keep his body still.

“Say you’re sorry,” you tell him as you run your thumb over his tip a few times..

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, his grip on the cover tightening. He feels like his hands might be stuck in fists by the time this is over.

You pretend to think in your head before saying, “I don’t think you mean it.”

His voice is high and whiny as he throws his head back once again and says, “I am. I promise.”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you shrug. “Make me believe it.”

Art begins to rethink his choices and starts to regret messing with you. “I’m so, so, so sorry, baby. I swear. It was wrong of me to do that to you.”

“Hmm.”

“Baby.”

You smirk at his desperation. “I forgive you.”

“Oh, no, I think I’m going to cum again,” he cries, his eyes rolling back once again as his body tenses.

“Go ahead,” you tell him.

Art’s third orgasm hits him harder than his previous two. He trembles as his back arches away from the headboard while watered down cum spurts out of him. Drool spills out the side of his mouth as you continue the motions of your hand.

He uses a hand and reaches down to pull yours away from his cock, but you slap it away. Art gasps as he continues to twitch in your hand, feeling like he can’t stop as cum flows out of him. You finally move your hand away, but his cock continues to spasm with your touch.

Wanting to torture him one last time, you lean down to wrap your mouth him, sucking and cleaning. Art’s body jerks as he curls forward and grabs your head. You laugh as you pull away.

You lean back against the headboard, pulling his head into the side of your neck to help him calm down. His breath tickles you as he tries to slow his heart down. You glance down at his spent cock with a smile as you gently rub his back.

After a long moment of silence, Art’s phone vibrates from its place on the bed beside him.

You shake your head as you ask, “Are you going to answer that?”

“Patrick can fucking wait,” he breathes out.

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[mywritersmind]

ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR - LN4

↳ pt.1

summary : Its the vacation of your dreams! With your best friends, rich men, live music, and flowing drinks, nothing can ruin it. Even if a certain Formula 1 driver (who seems to have an affinity for annoying you) is there every step of the sandy way.

listen up : suggestive themes! swearing! ‘enemies’ to lovers. probably my last sunny vacation fic for a while! get ready for winter fics!! cmt to be tagged in pt. 2 <3

word count : 4570

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Y/n!” Kika throws a pillow onto me. I groan in response, pulling the blanket over my head, “Get up! Get up! We’re leaving in thirty!”

I fall off the bed and start my rushed process of getting ready, we’re in Marmaris, Turkey for a little holiday. A holiday that I've been promised is for friends, yet every friend I have is with a man.

Kika, Alex, Rebecca, and Lily promised they would act like single ladies with me! That’s clearly not true because of the love they have for their boyfriends and how those same men never leave their sides.

The only other addition is someone I don’t want to talk about. Someone who’s a pain in my ass and the construction to my headache.

I’m instantly in a better mood when my friends and I start taking photos and making tik toks. I’m in a light blue dress and sandals, my skin is practically yearning to be tan but that will start tomorrow.

I have my own hotel room which I intend to spend no time in unless I'm hooking up with a hot turkish man. Lily holds my hand as we start walking. The guys said they would meet us there and I’ll never not treasure time with my girls.

The sun has already set but the sky is still a dark blue and orange. Lily squeals next to me, she’s in the cutest white mini dress, “I can’t believe we’re here!”

Kika laughs in a long yellow dress, “The trip literally made it out of the group chat!”

I eye them, “More like it was infiltrated by another groups chat!” Alex laughs and puts her hand on my arm.

“I promise it’ll be fun. I know you’re a little sad but we’ll find you someone!”

“It’s not even that- I just want to be with you guys.” They all seem a bit sad about it. It’s not like I don’t like their boyfriends, I consider them my friends too! It’s just that I was really looking forward to some much needed girl time.

“You are with us!” Alexandra frowns.

Lily swings are hands, “You’re with us and five other idiots who have money!”

This makes me laugh as we make it to the restaurant. It’s beautiful, part of the hotel, and looking right over the water.

The guys are already sitting. Charles, Pierre, Alex, Carlos all smile at me, kissing their girls as we sit. There is one missing, though. It’s hard to ignore but I'm definitely not complaining.

Drinks are ordered and our thoughts about the hotel is passed around. I became friends with this group through Lily, we grew up together and when Alex suggested I should come to a grand prix, I was hooked.

The other girls took to me immediately and were so excited to have another friend that they actually like. I don’t travel as much as them, but I do see them often enough.

We haven’t gotten together in a group like this though in forever!

I sip on my cocktail and talk to Carlos as his eyes stray past me. I turn to look at what he’s distracted by and have to fight the urge to roll my eyes.

You know those people who just really piss you off? The type that just irks you even though you’ve tried to hear your friends out?

That is how I feel about Lando Norris.

He strolls up to our table as if he isn’t late. He’s in blue jeans and a white button down that’s definitely not buttoned enough. His hair is messy and looks like he just woke up, “Hey.” Is all he says before plopping down next to Carlos and sipping his water.

Rebecca already sends me a look that screams, ‘Leave it.’ So I do, I order my food and talk to my friends while avoiding the man two seats down from me.

It’s not just that Lando bugs me, It’s that he’s repeatedly cocky and flat out annoying. He teases me any chance he gets and it never fails to ruin my day. He knows it too.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Pierre asks as he puts his arm around Kikas chair, everyone’s food is nearly gone and I'm more than ready to climb into my plushy hotel bed.

Alex holds Lily’s hand, “Beach, explore, eat? That’s also my plan for every day of our trip.”

Charles nods, “My buddy has a boat out here that he said we can borrow one day.”

I smile and lean my head on Kika’s shoulder, “I'll be anywhere you guys go, with a book and an apple.”

“You still into that?” His voice already pisses me off. I look at Lando who’s staring at me, “Reading.”

I blink. “Are you still into being illiterate?”

Charles covers his laugh with a cough as Alexandra shakes her head, “Hey! You two need to keep it civil this trip.”

Carlos eyes Lando pointedly as he groans, “Why? I didn’t even do anything! The witch said I was illiterate!”

I sit up straighter immediately, leaning over Carlos as my friends talk in a haze around me, “You really wanna see a witch, Norris, I’ll fucking show you!”

“The worst thing you could do to me is throw sand in my face!” I groan as he rolls his eyes and Kika pulls me back into my seat.

“This is what we’re talking about!” When she whispers is when I realize the people dining around us are staring.

“It’s one week!” Pierre shakes his head, “One week of peace!”

I don’t dare look at Lando, my arms crossed.

He gives in peace, “I won’t start anything if she won’t.”

“Perfect, I'll have a great trip of silence.” Fine by me. I can ignore him for a week, easy.

Lily and Rebecca exchange looks as Lando speaks again, “It’ll be nice not hearing your-” Carlos slaps his arm and he shuts up.

I sigh in my seat, this is going to be an interesting week.

⋆༺

I start off my first full day with breakfast. I’m up early and decided to make the most of it by enjoying my food with a beach view.

I grin when I see that there’s two pieces of bacon left, grabbing them swiftly and plopping it onto my plate just when someone goes to reach for it.

I look up to see Lando. He’s sweaty and in running clothes, looking at me annoyed per usual, “Seriously? Who takes the last two pieces?”

I raise a brow, “Me. You literally just saw me do it.”

He gives me a bored expression, “Didn’t you ever get taught manners?”

“I got taught how to get what I want.” I bite into the piece of bacon just to watch him flinch. “Weren’t you taught that it’s not nice to be insufferable?”

“Can’t you share? It’s one piece.” I take another bite, pretending to think.

“Hm… No!”

“We’re supposed to be civil. Friends even!” He steps closer, “I know you would give the piece to Lily.”

“You’re too greedy.” I finish the first piece of bacon and start to walk away. He scoffs and follows me.

“Me!? Greedy?” He scoffs, plate still in hand. I eye it, it’s mostly empty except for a nutella crepe, “You know what- never mind.”

I nod, “Great job being civil, Norris. I’m so proud of you and you for giving up.”

He does not find this funny, “I can’t stand you.”

“Then sit.” His eyes narrow at my words.

“Fuck it, Free will!” and with that, he grabs the piece of bacon off my plate and runs!

“Norris!” I yell after him but when he turns, he’s smiling with a mouth full of bacon. “Dickhead.” I mumble to myself and continue getting my food.

⋆༺

I’m warm, I'm tipsy, and I'm listening to live music. I don’t think life could get any better. I sit up on my beachside chair, lifting my sunglasses to see Lily, Alex, Charles, and Alexandra playing chicken in the water.

Kika stirs next to me, she was asleep on her stomach but slowly sits up when she hears our friends laughing.

I watch Lando and Pierre floating and Carlos swimming towards them. Rebecca went to get drinks so that just leaves Kika and I.

“How’s the whole ‘civil’ thing going?” She’s in an orange bikini that makes her look unfairly tan.

I shrug, “Bad? I just can’t imagine talking to him normally. We always fight.” I sip my drink, the glass coats my hand in condensation but it cools me down.

“Maybe you should just fuck.” I choke on my drink. She doesn’t even attempt to hide her laugh, “Sorry, Sorry!”

“Kika!” I slow my breathing, “Why would you say that!?”

“It makes sense! You’ve got a lot of pent up energy… I’m just saying!” I shake my head, pulling my sunglasses back on and laying down again. “I know you’re attracted to him.”

I pray that she thinks my cheeks are red from the sun, and not from her words. “I am not.”

“You can't lie to me!” She laughs, “It’s not a bad thing, Y/n. You both just need to shut up for two seconds and get eachother shirtless.” Lily walks up right as she says that.

She plops down onto the sand, “Whatever this is about- I agree!”

“She’s trying to get me to- Nope! I’m not even going to say it!” I can’t have that manifestation in my life.

“I think she should hook up with Lando.”

“Completely agree. Just make it quick.”

“If he’s with her, he’s gonna be quick.” Kika jokes and I actually laugh at that one.

“Okay enough! I’m not taking any advice from you two!” I stand, pulling my hair tie out of my hair and starting down the beach.

“Think about it!” Lily yells as I flip her off.

Now all I can think about is hooking up with him. I mean, I hate the dude, but I’m not blind.

Lando is fucking fit. But it’s hard for me to see past his assholeness. So the probability that i’m going to fuck him, is slim. Very slim. Like ZERO.

Just as I'm off in my Lando Norris shirtless world, a shirtless Lando Norris walks up to me. He’s exiting the ocean, pushing his wet curls back as he laughs with Carlos.

I look away as soon as I get a glimpse of his torso. The cool water feels great on my legs as I walk in the ocean. I sink down and dunk my head, opening my eyes underwater, I see the tiny fish and shells.

I reach down and grab a handful of sand, when I get air again, Carlos and Lando are next to me. I push the sand off my hand to reveal some shells and a tiny crab, “Aw!” I smile at it, showing it to the boys.

Carlos raises his brows, “Looks harmful.”

“Harmful?” I glance at him, “He’s a baby!” I hold it closer to him and he backs away like it’s going to jump on him.

I turn to Lando and do the same, he backs away as well, “Pussy.” I say it to his face and he clearly takes it as a challenge.

He holds his hand out and snatches the crab right from my hand, “Are you just a thief by nature?”

He gives me a look before bringing his hand closer to his face to examine the sea creature. I step closer to see it, “It’s adorable.”

“It’s a crab.”

“Thank you, Norris, for your insightful words of wisdom.” I go to take it back from him but he jumps and throws his hand down.

I let out a huge laugh when I realized it’s holding onto his thumb, “Shit! Ow!”

I keep laughing as Lando panics, swinging his hand around to try to get it off. Carlos is long gone by now, not amused by his friends' antics.

The crab finally unclips itself from Lando and he looks like he was just betrayed. I grin, “Maybe I am a witch!”

He looks me up and down, holding his hand and thinking. “If you call me a bitch that crab won’t be the worst thing that hurts you today.”

And then something weird happens.

He smiles.

He just smiles and walks away.

⋆༺

LANDO

Marmaris is stunning. The water is clear and besides me getting bitten, I'm having a great time. We end up going into town to get lunch and I'm faced with the issue of Y/n’s ass in my face as we walk up what feels like a million stairs.

I really feel like she’s doing this on purpose but I could be thinking that to just make myself feel better about checking her out.

She’s in tiny low waisted jean shorts. I can see her bikini bottoms peeking out from the sides. Her top is a crocheted cover up so her sliver of a bathing suit is still on display.

Carlos pushes my back when I slow down on the steps, I turn around to swear at him but he’s giving me an all knowing look so I close my mouth.

After what feels like hours of staring at Y/n’s backside, we make it to the lunch place. It’s hidden quite far up and we all get cramped into the room with a huge window and a view of lemon trees.

With our stupidly coupled up group, I'm forced to sit with Y/n. She’s across from me, sipping on her water and leaning on the table with her arms crossed.

When she notices I'm staring at her, she glares at me. I can tell she’s about to say something snappy, but eyes our friends and shuts her mouth.

As much as she pissed me off, I find it fun to annoy her. I like the way her cheeks heat and how her lips press together, but I would never admit that to her.

“Did you go for a run this morning?” Carlos asks me while shoveling food into his mouth.

“Yeah and the gym- it’s nice.”

“And quiet?” I nod, knowing what he means. Five Formula 1 drivers on vacation together is pretty hard to miss. But besides a stare or two, no one has said anything to us.

Lily claps her hands together, “Who wants to go golfing with me on wed-”

Y/n groans, putting her head in her hands, “No!” Kika looks horrified at the suggestion as well.

“Yes!” Carlos and I say at the same time. Lily has been a great addition to our golfing group and by far the best out of the three of us.

Rebecca laughs, “I’m with Y/n on this one. I’m feeling… spa?” This immediately perks Y/n up.

“That sounds perfect!” Alex smiles, “Girls day! Minus Lily because she’s actually good at a sport.”

Charles eyes us all, “I wanna go to the spa. I hate golfing.”

⋆༺

YOU

When Rebecca suggested we take a cooking class, I thought it was a great idea! I’m not the best cook so why not learn something? I had a bad feeling as soon as we entered and the room was decorated with hearts.

“Welcome! Welcome!” A man ushers us in along with two other groups. The room is large with one wall completely open and facing the beach. “Everybody get a table and we shall begin!”

“I knew I missed something on the website…” Alex cringes as we stare at the tables set for two, “Sorry? Lando, careful with Y/n and knives!”

A couples cooking class!? You’ve got to be kidding. I look at Lando the same time he turns to me, “Well, love… Let me handle the sharp things. I value my life.”

This is going to be the longest hour ever.

“My lovely people in love!” The man is short, with gray hair and the biggest smile I've seen in a while, “My name is Ali and today we begin making the dough for Kemal Pasha!” Apparently the kind we’re making is sweet balls of dough with a very delicious sounding syrup.

I’m standing next to Lando who’s struggling with his apron. They have huge heart pockets and his is bright green. As fun as it is to see him struggle, I want to start cooking soon.

“Give me that.” I swat his hands away and step behind him, taking the pieces of fabric and tying a knot.

“Thank you, Sweetness.” I suspect that this teasing won’t end soon, considering the man teaching the class asked everyone what their names were and put a name tag on each table of the couples ‘ship’ name.

I tie it tight and he flinches, “Hey my girl is trying to kill me!” I roll my eyes and loosen the bow, listening to the man and thanking the woman who’s walking around to make sure everything is correct.

I pour in all the ingredients and Lando starts stirring. I look around at all the couples, they’re doing everything together while looking all lovey dovey.

It makes me miss my ex. Which is weird because we barely acted like this alone. But still, seeing Alex and Lily laugh with flour already on their faces makes me sad.

“Angel!” Lando calls for me again as I put my hand on my hip. He has his hand out that’s covered in white powder, “C’mere!”

“No!” I back up but he’s already pulling me in and squeezing my face. I frown, my face squished between his hand as he laughs. I can feel the flour covering my face. I put on a slow smile when he drops his hand, “Aw, love bug!”

Nothing about my tone is loving and I can tell he’s not excited by the way his face drops. “Now darling…” He backs away as I pour some of the flour from the container into my hand, “I told you i’ll let you lick food off of me later, not here!”

I scoff at his audacity and throw the flour right into his face. When he opens his eyes, I slap my hands over my mouth. His whole face is white and when he breathes out, some comes out of his mouth.

I hold back a laugh as he stares at me, along with the rest of the room, “Oh baby… you’ve got a little.” I motion to his whole face, “Just a little something right there.”

“Er…” The man blinks at us, “True love comes in many forms!” He laughs uncomfortably as we get back to mixing our dough.

“That was not a fair move, Love.” Lando whispers to me as I knead the dough between my hands. His face is wiped off but the flour still resides a bit in his hair and cheeks.

“All's fair in love and war.” I say sweetly.

“Alright ladies, If your man isn’t helping you with his big strong muscles…” Ali eyes us, “Remind them who you are! Men, help your women!”

I turn back at Lando, looking up at the driver, “Do you need reminding?”

He just bites his lip and turns me back around, his hands on my waist. That, I did not expect. My hands go back to the dough in the bowl and his arms move into view, copying the other couples and massaging the treat with me.

I swallow and eye the veins in his arms that go all the way to his hands. His very big hands. The same hands that softly reach over mine.

His touch is surprisingly gentle as he matches my movements. I try to not think about how close he is to me, and focus on the dough but fuck that because I can feel him behind me.

I move back a bit unconsciously and his hand goes to waist to stop me, “Do you need reminding?” His voice is deep in my ear and I fight the urge to roll my eyes even though I know my cheeks are hot.

I thank god when Ali says we will be moving onto rolling the dough into little balls.

I swiftly move away from Lando and don’t dare look at Alex or Kika who I know is looking at us. I start rolling the dough in between my hands.

Lando glances at me, his balls sort of uneven and too small, “Your balls are ugly.” Lando chokes on air and whips his head around to look at me.

“Excuse me?” I roll my eyes at his suggestive tone and show him one of mine, “Ah so you’re a ball expert? Working from experience?”

He’s so childish it makes me want to throw one of these at him. Sadly, I'm not above acting suggestively, “Never worked with any so small.” I shrug as he stares at me. That shuts him up really quick as we place them on a round baking sheet.

We take a short break while they bake and I venture outside, looking over the balcony to the sea far below us.

My skin feels rejuvenated by the sun, I’m tanner and I swear the air is just different here. Alex appears next to me, he looks quite happy, “Having fun?”

I shrug and realize that I actually have been. “Uh… yeah.”

“You know, I think everyone else thinks you’re a real couple. It’s cute.” I gape at him. Is Alexander Albon betraying me right now?

“It is not cute. He’s bullying me.” He just snorts.

“Sure…”

I frown when Ali calls us back in. Lando and I are mostly quiet while stirring our syrup. As it boils, he nudges me. I look up to see him watching another couple.

They’re practically making out and feeling eachother up. I let out a laugh that his eyes widened at, “You’re so not inconspicuous.” He whispers, leaning down a bit.

“They are definitely not paying any attention to me…” They’re so wrapped up in each other that they don’t even notice when Ali turns their mini stove top off so their sauce doesn’t burn.

He looks down at me one last time, sending me a tiny smile. I think it’s the first time I'm genuinely attracted to him when his shirt is still on. Shit.

⋆༺

LANDO

Besides Y/n trying to kill me with the dessert we made, we were civil throughout the rest of the class. We get to take home a small box which leaves everyone in a good mood.

“Here, pretty, I don’t think I can eat that without feeling sick.” I don’t mean to call her that, but I just say what comes to my mind. I hand her the box and takes it without any change of expression.

I’m ready to leave but Ali claps his hands together one more time, “My lovebirds!” Y/n gives me a look that I laugh at, “One more gift for a very special couple of… well, couples!”

He pulls out three pieces of paper. Handing one to the couple that was making out he says, “Most affectionate!”

Then he turns to Pierre and Kila and hands them one, “Best dessert!” I realize these papers are some typos of superlatives.

I think he’s going to go to Charles and Alexandra, but he turns to Y/n and I. A big grin on his face, he hands me a paper. I read it before he says it and my eyes widen, “The most authentic love!” I don’t look at her, I can’t.

“I hope one day you all come back!” And with that, we’re ushered back and stripped of our aprons.

Y/n is already walking down the marble steps with Lily and Rebecca next to her. Carlos just shakes his head and slaps his hand on my shoulder, “Man… Congratulations!”

I eye him as Alex laughs, “I’m framing that!”

⋆༺

YOU

Six hours later, i’m in a tiny white dress, my hair curled and makeup done, and on my way with Rebecca and Alex to a club.

Everyone’s already left but Alex took extra long to slick back her hair. “So!” Rebecca grins as we walk past the beach, “Plan for tonight? Hook up with a local? Make out on the beach?”

I laugh at her enthusiasm, “I’ll see where the night and vodka takes me! I really just need a hot dance partner and a good drink.”

And that’s exactly what I get. I get my drink and well.. many hot dance partners! My friends and I scream the lyrics of the songs we know, holding hands and jumping around.

The club is part of the resort we’re staying at. It’s half on the beach and half in the beach bar that has a 24 hour drink service. I laugh at the guys who are awkwardly waiting for their girls to join them again.

“Okay, go, go!” They leave me at the bar and as soon as they’re gone, a man approaches me.

He’s very tall and very blonde, “Hi.” he’s got an accent but I can’t tell from where, “I couldn’t help but notice you dancing…” I listen to the same line that a hundred guys have fed me before. “Could I buy you a drink?”

Now this is what I like! Ten minutes later I'm dancing with him and a vodka lemonade. His hands are on my waist as I laugh.

He’s hot against me, his hair sweaty and salty. His name is Leon and he really likes my dress. I have a feeling he would like me without it too.

“Are you staying at the hotel?” He asks, screaming in my ear.

I nod, “Are you?”

“I’m staying in town with a friend!” I nod and sip my drink as he talks, “Do you know him?” I frown at his words, turning to see who he’s talking about.

I roll my eyes at Lando who’s standing with a pretty girl but staring at me. I turn back to Leon, “No!”

He looks like this annoys him, “Well i’m not surprised! You’re hot!” I nod as the music continues and keep dancing with him.

He turns me around so he’s staring at my ass instead of my face. But I just slip my fingers into my hair and keep dancing. I open my eyes to see Lando again. The girl is still talking but he’s still staring at me.

I run my middle finger around the rim of my glass, the sugar lifting onto my skin. His expression stays dark and focused on me as his hand goes to his jeans pocket. I lift my finger to lips, licking off the sugar without breaking eye contact.

He brings his drink to his lips and that’s when I realize I've had a bit too much to drink because he looks too damn hot.

He’s in a light blue shirt, his silver rings and LN4 necklace sat on his skin like it belongs there. His hair is damp with I don’t know with what… sweat, water, or the air, I don’t care. His jaw ticks at Leon’s hand moves from my waist to my stomach, my head dropping back on his shoulder, and spinning back around.

He kisses me, it’s messy and drunken but I don’t care. It’s only when he whispers, “Let’s get out of here.” When I'm massively turned off.

I end up back with my friends, Lando nowhere in sight and a smile on my face as we sit at the bar and drink.

pt.2

[theoccultz]

Your future spouse first impression of you ?

+ your first meeting details

Posted on : 19 nov , 2024

Pac #2♠️ of my future spouse series

All of my pacs are queer friendly

Since not everyone wants to get married , you could read for your s/o as well

Pics & dividers not mine , credits to their rightful owners @/saradika

Apologizes for any mistake

Let me know which pile you picked & dont be afraid to express your thoughts!!

Pile l . Pile ll . Pile lll.

Pile l .

The situation?

You are definately in an event together but you dont know each other for sure , you catch their attention first but its not very direct , this situation is very passive i'm seeing a scenario where someone actually saw the other person because of an accident its like you caught their attention by accident, this is an open space it could be a garden , an amusement park some sort of gathering or a wedding , there's people but they are minding their own business i do get a lot of chitter chatter so it could be a lively event . Yeah so back to the situation, i feel like maybe someone fell or something fell and you were around that object in that space so it all happened very naturally and the other person is prob sitting somewhere maybe a bar or some corner and they are bored asf ,this person seems to be drinking something as well , you both are well dressed they seem wasted and kind of intimidating to approach.

Why did you caught their attention?

Your person is in a time n space where they are not really feeling a lot hope or happiness, nothing bad has happened its just they are in a reflective/hermit mode and they dont have any energy or interest to interact with others, they could be going through their 12h transit so they are appearing to be very mysterious than they intend to , i'm seeing its love at first sight but you guys won't be that forward with each other your love story will slowly gets to its destination, so this person will for sure see you first but you are very much not aware , you on the other hand seems to be in a good mood , you could be picking up something for someone it could be a glass or some sort of utensil that made a loud noise lol or maybe someone tripped and fell & you kind of helped them out , you will feel as though someone is staring at you and yep you are right its them your fs , its not that awkward for both of you tbh you guys are feeling attracted to each other its like something clicked and you cant look away ,you guys will be sneakingly stealing glances throughout the night and did i mention? its late evening vibes , as i said this person will be feeling nervous its like they wanna say something do something they are very much on edge there's this fear of time , they will be contemplating on their thoughts should i go ? I dont know ? What to do ? Blah blah n stuff . Now onto my readers , you guys are feeling confident you are feeling brave in this situation you could be air signs or there's this Airy fairy vibes to you , you could be a scorpio moon as well or it could be just you are taking in everything and being in control of your emotions

Who will approach who first ?

I see there is some third party that will interfere like a friend or an acquaintance , they could be pulling you guys for a dance, for a game, just anything and thats when you will decide to approach them but its very subtle like oh i love what you're wearing? Navy blue ... its my favourite colour or you could just go and sit beside them ,So yeah those kind of small talk will lead to bigger things between you guys , you and your person are very similar to each other , you could come from same hometown you could be wearing same brand clothes , you could love cats and they could have a cat child as well . I do see you exchanging socials or trying to be with each other often . This person will feel rejuvenated its like starting a new chapter & anything thats new is exciting, Its very clear you like each other but yeah you guys will take time to confess 🙂‍↔️✋🏽

Okay cool people this is all i got for you , its veey simple yet interesting .

The song i got for you is also very "interesting" because in that music video they use this theme of falling in love at first sight and they meet each other by accident but its all destiny , i mean you can watch for yourself .

Song :

Thanks for reading !!

Pile ll .

The situation?

This is the story you will remember and laugh , you both will meet through other people and you both had to interfer , you're trying to create peace between two people who are creating conflict, you could be at a shop buying something and i think a fight will break out and its very stupid like you dont have change ? You are the store owner you get it for me , and the other person is like you cant talk to me like that give my stuff back , get out ......(I suck at giving examples so bear with me 🥲✌🏽) it could be as small as that or as big as you both are divorce lawyers fighting a case for your clients , but yeah you dont have anything to do with this situation but you guys had to intervene , when this situation gets over , you guys are kind of discussing/ bitching abt it like your ideologies match ... " Oh people are so stupid nowadays" ..... "yeah i agree " they fight on such small things like there's no understanding in the world *there is this Aquarius situation* where you guys are somehow jumping from topic to topic and its very logical , i'm literally hearing someone get political like yeah its the government they suck they increased taxes 😭🙌🏼blah blah

This is so funny lmao , you unknowingly kind of clicked , it is a situation that involves two strangers and something abt buying or returning is involved , i could describe another scenario for you guys to understand this , it could be a family conflict , your friend arguing abt the last donut , or people pushing each other to buy merch at the concert and its ridiculous because they are pushing each others button so you guys are kind of being the responsibile one is what i'm getting. I feel like the reason this situation is funny is also it could be your friend and their friend is arguing abt something and you guys are Falling in love like oh i didn't knew you love hot food , yeah i totally recommend this restaurant its so great and in the background its like a whole world war 8 waiting to happen.

Why did you caught their attention?

Because you were there and they found you attractive , i'm seeing this is the pile of my introvert readers or in this situation you could appear very calm n collected ,one moment you are shopping you are looking good and the next moment your friend is fighting and the next you are finding a stranger attractive like everything is happening so fast that too in a day lol , you will be attracted to them because they are your type and this person has some GOOD communication skills as well as great fashion sense, its something abt their eyes or hair that will attract you . Anyways i think you will be in the same locality and you will keep meeting each other , i didn't knew you existed kind of situation, so in the morning you guys are in the same park , you are studying in the same uni , you are volunteering for the same organisation, they are your new neighbour, stuff like that 🐰👏🏼

Who will approach who first ?

Them because they do not want to loose a great connection, they could be a leo mars so if they like someone they go all in to shower the person they love with attention and care , your energy seems very inward and their outward in this situation, they are the type of person who will be always ready to help you , your showers not working i got it ? You want notes , i got it , they will lookout for you , i do think you are away from home so you could meet them when you are in a transition period and you will admire them , there won't be any obstacles like you guys are meeting freely n stuff so you both are independent and content with your life ,you both are a great addition to each others life its like i found a great companion in you . This person is sweet but protective its those people who wants to take their lover everywhere and hold their hand all day , your fs has this energy of hold my hand and travel the world with me , they are also very sensual, humble , sweet , i feel like this person is enamoured by your beauty they feel like they needed you in their life and when they have you they're not gonna let go .

As everyone knows , i do have a movie addict roommate and his tip is to watch the movie "ishq" . So yeah let me know what the story's about .

Chanelled song :

Thank you for reading !!

Pile lll .

*Sorry for cussing so much in your reading, when i channel i just pick up on things as they are *

The situation?

You guys are my starboys/girls ,you are those people who have high standards in love , you will meet them when you both are not looking for something serious , this person will tempt you to think differently about love , I'm seeing you will meet them when you're rigid about your values , you are in a fierce energy its like you will go through this whole transformation where many people will not resonate with you anymore and you will be looking good af , you will be in an energy where you will attract people to you , this person is someone who's also on the same length as you , you both will be in this...." i'm single & i'm hot"..... energy , people would wanna be friends with you n stuff , i feel like you will also be a completely different person when you meet them , you were an introvert ? now you are not . You used to drink ? now you dont . So you are changing a lot of things about yourself in general & so is this person , since you guys are my ...." i dont need anyone "....pile you both will fail to resist one another , i took an oath ? Nevermind i'm breaking it , its like you know those 2 friends in a group who everyone knows they are fucking behind our back but no one dares to ask yeah that's you guys , people don't really need to know if you are into each other its VERY obvious , this is that person who does not care they show their crazy in love ,if they dont like it they're gonna say it , they don't want you to wear that they're gonna say it and they win everytime, i feel like you will give in ,you might be an independent bitch but with them you are not , this is kind of my dark soul people who have seen things in life , got their heart broken , they resonate with dark music , their eyes look intense , they give off intimidating vibes and this person is also very similar to you , its like unconsciously you wanted someone as intense as you , where your intensity does not scare em .....it turns em on... and this is that person who will be the result of your manifestation's .

Not to mistake this love as some stupid love , you guys will have a level of dedication to your relationship, you have principles set for your relationship, like we won't say stupid stuff to each other when we are angry n stuff . You guys have a lot of respect and loyalty for one another this is the typical they were made for each other & they found one another , this is all they needed . You guys are that couple who haunt each other like crazy , you guys don't mind waiting for one another , you won't leave each other ever and i think they will soothe this fear of your's (abondonment in love )

I will say this is the standard we all need in love ngl ❤️‍🔥✋🏽🙂‍↔️

Why did you caught their attention?

Bro this person is down bad , i am hearing crazy things anyways ......what about you does not attract them ? Everything, they were attracted to your light, shadow self ,crazy self they knew you were theirs the moment they met you i didn't clearly got where they met you but its some cafe i hear light jazz yeah you both were relaxed and this place is expensive asf , you could also meet them on a beach i see sea view and dim lights , you could wear red that day like there's wine , music , people this place is cold too , yeah so they were atrracted to your energy you stood out to them maybe you were the only one zoned out i dont see you being interested in whatever's going on in the background but everyone's enjoying it like its a whole DAMN mood , this person will be with their friends just observing you and honestly they could challenge you in your first meeting, you both are giving hints to each other back to back , like i know i have power over you , i know what i'm doing, i know you are flirting with me and its working, they are coming off as cheesy ,this could be a restaurant but you are alone and kind of exhausted, you could also go to this place after a hectic day, this person's style reflects a carefree rebellion nature , there is something different about em they could have tattoos they could wear earings even if they identify as a men , maybe paint their nails , maybe the women's also have short hair they could also hair dye their hair , piercings, they could wear something black on their eyes idk what you call them idk maybe they dress emo but yeah they look like they believe in breaking stereotypes. I feel like you on the other hand does not experiment with their looks n stuff but you will be during the time you meet this person , they might assume you are like them .

Who will approach whom first ?

Both of you are giving signals to each other , i do see someone behaving over the top here like they are risking it all *being very obvious in approaching the other * ahh idk i'm confused but their actions will flatter you for sure, its very clear to you , maybe there's a singer in that bar or place & this person will tell them to dedicate a song to you but there's a challenge here for sure , you think they are challenging you on something but its very playful and not hostile , it could also be a hookup but you will meet again and when you do its gonna be shocking maybe they are your senior or smth .

Song :

Thanks for reading!!

[zhelin-thames]

Danny’s chaos with the Lantern Corps #2

Returning to Earth

[Danny Bragging to Tucker and Sam]

Danny: So, space was awesome. I made a rage monster angry, a blue alien complimented my “hope,” and Hal got so annoyed he almost quit. Tucker: Please tell me you took pictures. Danny: [grinning] I took selfies with their glowing rocks.

[Danny and the BatFam at Wayne Manor]

Dick: You were in space? You didn’t even tell us? Danny: It was kind of last-minute. Also, they didn’t have Wi-Fi. Tim: [snarky] That must’ve been so hard for you. Danny: It was tragic, Tim. Truly.

[Justice League Check-In Call]

Wonder Woman: I trust the Lanterns taught you discipline. Danny: [shrugs] I taught them how to chill out. Close enough. The Flash: Did you prank Hal? Danny: Oh, big time. Hal Jordan: [appears in the hologram, glaring] He called my ring a mood ring. Again. Danny: [grinning] Emotional support jewelry is what I said. Get it right.

[Batman’s Concern]

Batman: Did you cause any intergalactic incidents? Danny: …Define “incident.” Batman: [stares at him in silence] Danny: Fine. No. Happy? Hal Jordan: [interrupts over comms] He almost joined the Sinestro Corps! Danny: [smirking] Almost.

[Villains’ Reactions to Danny’s Space Adventures]

Lex Luthor: [watching news footage] The ghost boy now has space alliances? Preposterous. Joker: [laughing hysterically] He’s a ghost kid and an astronaut! What a riot! Black Manta: Did he mess with the Lanterns? Danny: [phases through the wall] Yup. And I made it out alive.

[The BatFam Dealing with Danny’s New Glow-Up]

Jason: So, what’s with the green sparkles? Danny: Oh, just some Lantern energy I might’ve borrowed. Damian: Borrowed or stole? Danny: [grinning] What’s the difference?

[Danny’s Lantern-Inspired Prank on Bruce]

Danny: [floating, glowing green with a makeshift construct of the Bat-Signal] Hey, Bats, look! I’m you! Bruce: [crosses arms] That’s not even remotely accurate. Danny: [laughing] Come on, Space Dad 2.0 thought it was funny!

[Justice League Final Note]

Martian Manhunter: The ghost child is unpredictable, but his intentions are noble. Hal Jordan: His intentions are chaos. Wonder Woman: Perhaps he needs guidance. Danny: [appears in the hologram] Or maybe the Justice League needs a ghost mascot. Batman: [pinching the bridge of his nose] This was a mistake.

[riki-dazed]

Best friends can kiss, right? -- PART 1

3:00 AM -- Finding Hope · part 2 · fluff · wc: 792

"I'm so tired," You sigh, watching Riki search for another song on the computer that he's currently sat in front of.

The both of you had spent the last couple of hours together in his personal studio, turning the tight space into a full blown karaoke room. All that you hoped for tonight was that no one would come knocking at the door, considering that Riki already had to sneak you into the company building.

Your body falls backwards against your sofa, yes, your sofa. The tiny, barely-seats-two one that Riki had cramped into the corner of his studio, just so you'd have somewhere to sit, or sleep on, when you'd visit him. You loved that about your best friend the most, his overly thoughtful and sweet nature. To Riki, your comfort and happiness has always been at the top of his priorities list.

Your gaze stays on Riki as you watch him scroll through one of his spotify playlists, your head resting on your arms in which are slumped over an armrest. Eliciting a hum of approval, he finally decides on a song after a few moments. The slow, soft melody that engulfs the space causes your eyes to flutter closed. It was a familiar sound, one of your favorites. You hear your best friend humming along to the tune, the sound of his soft tone further pushing you into a sleepy trace. It's about time the both of you finally took a second to calm down, to breathe.

Baby, it's three AM, had you on my mind...

"Here," A deep voice cuts you out of your trance, you blink your eyes open, "Lean on me, it's comfier,"

You glance over your shoulder towards the direction where the voice was coming from, suddenly finding Riki's body sat beside yours on the little sofa. You give him a small smile as you pick yourself up and off the uncomfortable armrest, you nuzzle yourself into his side. His body's warm, the fabric of his hoodie soft against the skin on your face.

He smells good, too.

"We should probably go home soon," You murmur against him, your eyes closing shut yet again. Who knows what the time must be, though, you're too comfortable and cozy to even care about it at the moment.

"Later," The boy beside you replies, his voice barely above a whisper as his hand snakes its way around to the side of your waist. He pulls you into him.

You nestle closer into Riki, enjoying the warmth of his embrace, and the comfort of his presence. Every other irrelevant thought within your mind fades away as you focus on the soft music playing through the speakers. The feeling of contentment envelops the both of you.

Cause baby, if I find a way, I'm sure of it, this love won't stray...

"..just give me a chance to say I love you, and I need you, now are you here to stay," Riki sings along quietly, his deep voice is as soft and as smooth as a cloud.

Despite the late hour, you have nowhere else that you would rather be than right here.

Wanting you more and more, I can't help but think of what we could be...

Without a single thought behind your actions, the lyrics suddenly cause you to lift your head off him. As you meet Riki's gaze, you find yourself getting lost within his sharp eyes, seeing a reflection of the emotions swirling within your own chest. Neither of you exchange a single word, yet a silent understanding engulfs the space between the both of your bodies, a mutual recognition of something unspoken, yet deeply felt. You feel the weight of the lyrics echoe within your mind, and stomach, in the form of a hundred butterflies.

As you continue to scan your best friend's face, you see a vulnerability in his expression. It's as if he's laying bare his soul before you, offering you a glimpse into his unspoken feelings.

"This feels dangerously intimate," You murmur out of the blue, the sudden seriousness had caused you to almost start feeling awkward. You and Riki were barely ever a serious pair when together, you needed to lighten the mood somehow..

Riki can't help but shake his head over your sudden remark, he lets a chuckle escape his lips. You smile at his heartwarming reaction, yet you can't shake the feeling that had just engulfed you moments prior.

You can't help but realize that perhaps the both of you had been dancing around the edges of something more profound than mere friendship.

"Best friends can kiss, right?"

Your eyes grow wide as Riki catches you completely off guard with his sudden question, your smile drops off your face.

...

Copyright © 2024 riki-dazed. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | Do NOT edit, copy, translate or repost any of my work without permission.

[jamiefartt]

richmond's receptionist

part 2.

pairings: jamie tartt x reader, basically all of richmond is mentioned tho

summary: where you're the receptionist at richmond fc and you slowly but surely form a close bond with star striker jamie tartt

words: 6864

warnings: none just swearing and a little bit of rude jamie

—

day in and day out you watch the people of richmond fc enter and exit the home of their beloved football team. you spend your days behind the blue reception desk doing admin; sending emails, taking calls, and making sure everything is running smoothly. you've been the receptionist at Richmond for a little over three months, and you had no complaints so far. your favourite part of the day was watching Rebecca arrive to work. you always hear her heels before you see her, then she struts past your desk with a swift 'good morning' every day. not one day has gone by where she hasn't greeted you that way, and the acknowledgment lightens your mood each time.

as you're checking the company emails one morning, you hear Rebecca's footsteps approaching. you look up to smile at her, expecting the usual greeting, but instead she goes off-script.

"ah, good morning y/n. i'm not sure if you've seen the email but we are implementing a new daily register system. every morning, when our staff and players arrive, they must tick the box next to their name and note what time they arrive at. for visitors, they will have to sign their name on the bottom." you nod along attentively to her new instructions.

"okay, great! so, in the evenings, should everyone just do the same thing; tick the box, add the time?"

"you catch on fast. see, this is why I knew we needed a better receptionist," she smiles at you genuinely, adjusting her handbag on her arm before turning to walk to her office. "oh, and everyone should have received the email so I hope that saves you wasting time to explain this to everybody."

thanking her with a kind smile, you bid your goodbyes. you open your personal staff email, only to find an email from Higgins including a pdf of the sign in sheet. you take it upon yourself to print a week's worth, attaching them to a clipboard and placing it on top of the tall desk. you smile to yourself, looking forward to getting to know everyone's names and have more opportunities for small talk in the mornings.

the clock is nearing 8:30am, and you're already deep in your inbox forwarding and responding to emails. you've only had to explain the new system to a handful of staff, including Laughing Liam who, naturally, laughed at it. the players should be arriving soon, so you take the time to straighten your blouse and sit up straight in your chair. presumably, these men don't check their emails first thing in the morning, so you're expecting to have to repeat yourself a lot this morning.

"good morning y/n!" Colin chirps. he's the first of the team to arrive, as per usual.

"hey Colin! I thought I heard tires screech outside." you joke. "I'm not sure if you saw the email-"

"stop right there. i saw the email this morning." cutting you off, he picks up a Richmond pen before sliding the clipboard towards him and signing in. you chuckle to yourself and wave him goodbye.

soon after, the rest of the Richmond players flood into the building. some are in pairs, others in groups, and they even form a small queue as they wait their turn to sign in. Dani's excited by the new organisation plan, Roy grunts but still cracks a small smile, and Ted holds up the line talking to you whilst Beard signs both of them in. the only person to arrive alone, and last, is Jamie Tartt. he rolls right past you, not once looking up from his phone. you quickly call after him: "Uhm, Jamie!" you've never spoken to him, nevertheless called him by his first name.

his head lifts at the unexpected sound of your voice, and he looks around trying to find the source.

"sorry, Mr. Tartt. I didn't mean to shout... or call you Jamie," your voice goes quiet as he turns around to look at you, eyebrows raised in confusion. "what?" he replies, slowly walking towards the desk.

"basically, there's a bit of a new system here now. every morning and every evening you'll have to check in and out on this sheet. just tick the box next to your name and then add the time you arrive and leave." you explain with a smile, holding his questioning gaze the entire time.

"right, right, okay... what if, instead of me wasting me time clocking in and out, you just do it for me. you see me arrive, you sign me in. you see me leave, you sign me out. simple as." he states, and he sends you a quick wink before spinning around and heading straight for the locker room.

your mouth snaps open and shut a few times, surprised at his refusal to cooperate. you knew he had been a pain, despite his talent, but ever since he returned from manchester city he'd dropped his act a little. still, all you could do was watch his back, his bright orange jacket disappearing around the corner.

—

the sign-in system is easily integrated into richmond fc's daily routine, everyone dedicating those few minutes every day to tick the box and smile at you. some even taking the time to have a chat with you and soon enough, you know everyone's names.

while your typing up an email to Keeley about a new sponsor, someone walks up to your desk and drums his hands atop it. your eyes snap up and a smile takes over your face at the sight of Ted.

"hi Coach, how are you doing?"

"I'm doing great, y/n, thanks for asking! I would ask how you're doing but I'm here about someone else..." Ted's gaze narrows and your smile shrinks slightly.

"what's up?" you turn your chair to face him to show your full attention is on him.

"my pal Higgins has informed me that one of my players hasn't been signing in with you every day."

"yeah..." you trail off, "Jamie hasn't really been making the effort. I'm sorry if I should have been doing it for him I just wasn't sure if that would be... against safety regulations... or something?"

Ted raises his eyebrows at you, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "did he ask you to sign him in and out every day?"

"yes, he did. he said I should just watch out for him coming and going then write down the time."

"oh okay, I see. I will talk to him at lunch. Don't you worry, y/n."

as he walks away, you sigh in relief, worried you were getting in trouble for Jamie's slacking. you turn back to your computer, cracking your knuckles before getting back to your work.

later that day, as you log out of your computer and start packing up your stuff, the team pours out of the locker room. some sign themselves out, some sign themselves and their mates out. you make sure to keep your eyes peeled for anyone trying to avoid the responsibility, but the only person who strides past the group with no remorse is, once again, Jamie Tartt. your eyes meet Ted's who is looking at you with an apologetic look. you shrug in response, brushing it off. Jamie is his own person, you're not in charge of him.

the next morning, the day starts as usual; Rebecca is the first to arrive, followed by some members of staff, before the coaching team and players pour in from the car park. despite people greeting you and talking, you only half-respond. you're too busy looking over everyone's heads trying to spot the stubborn player you just haven't been able to crack.

"I've spoken to that prick. he can't keep fucking you over. let me know if he causes any problems." Roy grumbles, interrupting your focus.

"cheers, Roy," you smile at him warmly, wondering if his words will have had any effect on Jamie.

when the clock strikes 9, you sink back into your chair. the last of the staff have arrived for their day, and training is about to start – but still, no Jamie Tartt.

you grab the clip board and flick through the pages, making sure you didn't miss him signing in. still, on every page, the boxes next to his name are left blank. you sigh, shaking your head, unsure of how to tell Rebecca you got through to everyone expect for one measly player.

"y/n?"

"that's me," you say, before looking up from the list of names.

there's two coffee cups in front of you, both with the name Jamie scribbled on the sides in black marker. you lift your gaze, and funnily enough, Jamie is stood in front of you.

"listen yeah, I jus' wanted to say sorry for not doin' the whole... sign-in sheet shit. Roy had a proper go at me yesterday, so... I brought you coffee. hope this makes up for it." he can barely meet your eyes as he speaks, but ends his apology with a small smile.

"oh, wow, thank you. that's very kind, Jamie." you genuinely smile at him, hoping his might lift even a little bit more. instead, his eyes soften.

"I just got you a latte. I hope that's okay, I weren't sure what you liked and didn't have time to ask Keeley so,"

"that's perfect, Jamie, thank you so much. you really didn't have to do this."

"yes, I did, I think. it's not fair for you to be worrying about your job because of me."

thanking him again, you take one of the takeaway cups, taking a small sip of the warm coffee. Jamie nods at you as if to say goodbye, and you return the nod with a cheeky wink. you can't be sure, but you think you see Jamie's smile finally reach his eyes as he turns around.

the following morning, as you're talking to Isaac about becoming the new team captain, you're interrupted by none other than Jamie. your face lightens up at the sight of him, and you laugh as he pushes Isaac with his shoulder, making him leave the front desk.

"what's this for?" you ask as he sets another coffee cup down in front of you.

"I dunno... I was already getting meself coffee, so I thought I might as well get you another latte."

"you don't have to do that, Jamie. but if it means you come to the desk to sign in then I won't complain."

you can't seem to take your eyes off his hands as he picks up the pen Isaac had just used. his fingers seem to move slowly over the page, smoothing over everyone's names until he reached his. you admire the rings on his fingers, taking a special interest in the gold signet on his pinky as it supports the pen gliding along the form.

"do you like it?"

you blink a few times before snapping out of your daydream, looking up to see Jamie smirking down at you.

"hm?" you ask, gulping down the embarrassment of being caught in your daze.

"do you like my ring?"

"what? your pinky ring? uhm, sure, yeah. it's nice..."

"good save, love. it's me granddad's. he gave it me when I first went to play for Man City."

"it's beautiful..." you say, smiling before looking down at the ring again. you notice how delicately his hands move as he puts the pen down. you didn't expect such a machismo to have such nice hands but you can tell Jamie takes good care of himself.

he smiles, huffing out a small chuckle at your admiration. "see ya later, y/n." "

"bye, Jamie." you smile, taking the clipboard from him. you glance down at his name, spotting a small heart drawn beside it. it's uneven and a bit jagged, but the doodle still tugs at your heart strings.

from then on, every single morning, you are greeted by a latte and a chat from Jamie. every day, he lingers more and more as you talk to each other, and you always end up drinking half of your coffees before he pulls himself away from your desk. in the evenings, he's always one of the first to sign out. instead of saying goodbye, he simply winks at you. you hate to admit it but you start memorising what times Jamie arrives and leaves. as much as you love talking to him, and especially him winking at you every time he leaves, you love waiting for him. you love the nerves that build in your stomach as you watch the clock, and by the time he finally reaches you, you're already slightly blushing. when he turns to leave your desk, your eyes follow his figure and you let the blush take over your cheeks completely.

—

"hey, y/n, have you got a minute?" Isaac walks up to your desk.

"Isaac! of course!" you chirp, taking the last sip of your latte. Isaac reads the name written across the cup and raises his eyebrows knowingly.

"ah, speak of the devil,"

"what?" you turn the cup around, running your thumb across Jamie's name, "oh, yeah,"

"about Jamie... I really hate to involve you in actual football shit but he's been slacking a bit in training."

"oh, okay, would you like me to pass on the message to Rebecca?"

"no, no, it's just... he's been showing up late to training and then leaves early. during trainings, he's always... agreeing?" you raise your eyebrows at Isaac's words, "he never puts up a fight anymore, and we kind of need that Jamie Tartt for our big game this Saturday."

"I'm sorry, Isaac, but I'm not really sure what I can do about this. I really would love to help but there's not much I can do."

"I really hate to ask this from you, but," he takes a deep breath, a small smile appearing on his face, "I need you to piss him off a bit this week."

you laugh out loud, attempting to brush off his obvious joke by turning back to your computer.

"I'm not joking." his smile drops instantly, and your laugh falters before your face goes serious. "he likes you, so if you start acting cold towards him, it would really throw him off." Isaac's smile returns, and you giggle at his idea. trying not to read into his phrasing too much, you take a deep breath and nod.

"got it, Captain." you salute towards him. his eyebrows furrow as he curtly nods at you before turning around and jogging away.

what does he mean with Jamie liking you? a blush creeps up your face at the thought of him mentioning your name every time he's late, making up some excuse about the sign in taking too long. you start to brainstorm how you're going to turn the cold shoulder to Jamie this afternoon, feeling ever so slightly bad but trusting Isaac's judgement at the same time.

sure enough, Jamie is the first person out of training. you look up at him, and he smiles at you from the end of the hallway before jogging towards you.

"hi, y/n," his fingers drum on the desk, clearly excited to see you.

"if you'd just like to sign out for me there please, Jamie." you speak up, not looking up from your screen.

Jamie's immediately taken aback by your tone and from the corner of your eye you can see him pull his head back in confusion.

he chuckles awkwardly, attempting to diffuse the situation, "uhm, okay... what's the time, y/n?"

you don't respond, instead you point up at the clock on the wall behind you.

Jamie scoffs, quickly scribbling down the time and dropping the pen with a little bit of force. you don't react, as much as you wish you could just look up and meet his eyes.

"okay, bye then." he sighs deeply then heads towards the car park. as you see Isaac approach your desk, the rest of the team in tow, you hear an engine roar off into the distance.

"sounds like you've already pissed him off," Isaac says, "how did you manage that?"

"I just didn't look at him." you shrug nonchalantly.

"mhm, yeah he hates that. good job, bruv." he holds out his fist for you to bump. your knuckles meet his as you wink at him.

—

"hi, y/n, you alright, yeah?"

you hear Jamie place down a coffee cup. he whistles a little tune trying to get your attention, but when you still don't look up at him, he just picks up the pen and quickly signs in.

"listen, I'm not sure if you're just busy or what, but we play the Spurs tomorrow and I'd really like to see you there."

before you can even look up at him, Jamie turns around and leaves. you wait until he's a few feet away before looking up to take your coffee. you stare at his back, sighing to yourself. you understand the Captain's orders but it doesn't feel right ignoring Jamie. you would never tell him but your little routine has become your favourite part of your day at Richmond. you watch as his pinky signet ring catches the bright lights of the hallway and you take the opportunity to rake your eyes over Jamie's figure. his grey skinny jeans hug his legs perfectly, and his black jacket accentuates his broad shoulders. you lift your gaze to see his hair is gelled back neatly. you continue to stare at him, and as he's just about to turn the corner, he turns his head to take one last look at you. your eyes just about meet before you quickly snap your head down, pretending you weren't looking at him.

"y/n! I heard you fixed Jamie!" Keeley squeals as her and Roy walk up to the desk.

"I know, I hate it!" you reply, slumping your shoulders.

"don't worry, y/n. he'll be back to normal after tomorrow's game." Roy helps.

"sure but I don't want him to hate me."

"trust me; he doesn't fucking hate you." he adds, raising an eyebrow.

Keeley nods, "it's true. he's got a soft spot for you."

"he still invited me to the game." you shrug, hopeful that means he doesn't hate you.

"ah! brilliant! I'll talk to Rebecca, I'm gonna get you a seat with us. that way, you can watch the match without him even knowing you're there!" Keeley bounces excitedly on the balls of her feet.

"doesn't that defeat the point of me being there?"

"no babe, it's all about the teasing. he's gonna be fuming when he thinks you're not there, and then after the game you can surprise him! it'll work wonders, I swear."

you give her a questioning look, turning to Roy for a second opinion. he stays completely silent, simply giving you a single nod.

"if you think it'll work, let's do it." you hesitate slightly, but ultimately agree. you won't mind teasing Jamie a little bit. it's all he ever does.

your eyes drift to the picture of him plastered on the wall beside you. the cocky smirk on his face taunts you as you consider just texting him an apology.

"good morning! whatever you said to Jamie really worked, y/n. he never passes to me anymore!" a chipper Sam says to you as he signs himself in.

"is that a really a good thing?"

"it is for now. but please, after tomorrow, bring him back to normal. he's almost my friend and I want to keep it that way." he gives you a sad smile before bidding you goodbye.

throughout the day, you take calls and file more admin work. you talk to Higgins, Ted, and Keeley, filling them in on the plan for the Tottenham match tomorrow. it's a struggle to sit at your desk with Jamie constantly filling up his bottle from the water fountain in front of you. there's plenty of others for him to use, but he's clearly making the extra effort to see you in the hopes you'll talk to him. much to your dismay, you continue to ignore him. it's only been two days that you've been ignoring Jamie, but it's still hard avoiding the one thing that makes your day just that little bit better.

all packed up to go home, you wait for the last sign outs of the day. Rebecca's heels descend the stairs, and once again you hear her before you see her.

"y/n, I'm so sorry to keep you waiting."

"no worries. that's my job," you smile at her, moving to exit your desk. you step down from the raised platform, about to shrug your jacket on.

"ah- ah- ah, I'm afraid I'm not the last to go home." Rebecca interrupts your movement, pointing a finger down the hallway.

"oh, uh, who's left?" you ask her, already taking your jacket off again.

"I think there's someone in the gym. oh, and there's a package for you in the coach's office. don't forget to pick that up before you leave."

you shake your head, confused; "uhm, okay then. I'll see you tomorrow, Miss Welton." you smile at her politely, giving her a small nod.

"Rebecca." she assures you with a small which mirrors yours. as she turns to leave, you hold back a sigh and place your jacket and bag atop the desk. you iron down your shirt and fix the pleats on your trousers before venturing down the hallway.

you can hear small puffs and the whirring of a treadmill as you get closer to the coach's office. choosing to cut through the locker room, you look at the large empty space. you look over each name on the far side, reading them out loud quietly to yourself. moving towards Sam's locker, you smile at the photo of the Nigerian national team he keeps on his shelf. turning around, you read the names on the other side of the room. eyes landing on the locker at the end of the row, you finally let out the sigh you were holding in. "Tartt" you say out loud to yourself. butterflies fill your stomach before a nervous twist takes over. "he likes you" Isaac's words replay in your head. "he's got a soft spot for you" you remember what Keeley said. you ponder on their words, wondering why you of all people were Isaac's choice. Surely Roy could've talked some sense into him, or Ted if he got angry?

you shake the thoughts from your head, quickly looking away from Jamie's locker just in case your clouded mind takes charge again. looking through the window into the office, you see a white parcel on Beard's desk. there's a bright yellow sticky note on top of it:

'For y/n. You'll need this tomorrow! - Coaches'

you smile softly before pulling off the sticky note and picking up the package. the sound of the treadmill is louder now that you're right next to the gym, and the huffing and puffing increases too. loud beeps sound out and suddenly the footsteps on the treadmill seem to be going impossibly fast. pushing your curiosity aside, you cut the corner of the white bag, ripping it open. inside it is a neatly folded jersey – a Richmond jersey. you pick it up by the shoulders, holding it up in front of you. when you turn it around, you let a laugh escape your lips, hoping the treadmill covers the sound. it reads the same as Jamie's locker: Tartt 9.

shaking your head in disbelief, you fold it up neatly and place it back in its package. you hug it tight to your chest as you move quietly towards the window into the gym. you peer in, and to your surprise, you see Jamie almost destroying the treadmill with how fast he's going. his feet barely seem to hit the rubber, running like he is being chased by something twice his size. your smile falls and your brows crease together. he seems pissed, even though you can't see his face, his ferocious speed tells you enough. you turn back around, grabbing the post-it notes from Ted's desk and writing something down. you end your note with a small heart, hoping the coach sees it before the match.

—

"come on Richmond!"

the ear deafening crowds cheer and chant for Richmond FC as they file into the stadium. you're sitting in the owner's suite behind Rebecca and Keeley, with Higgins next to you.

"did you get my package?" Keeley asks, teethy smile across her face.

"I knew it was you! you cheeky little shit!" you laughed loudly, clapping her hands into yours. you take your jacket off, turn around and bring your arms up, pointing two thumbs at the back of your shirt.

"ah, young love..." Higgins sighs.

immediately turning back around, you scoff at him; "pfft, we're not in love! in fact, I'm not even sure we're friends right now."

"don't worry about it, y/n. I promise." Rebecca assuredly says to you, before turning to watch the match begin.

the whistle is about to blow, so you quickly try to find Jamie on the pitch. your eyes scan over the group, and you soon spot him in the middle of the pitch jumping up and down. he spits on the ground and claps his hands together, clearly riled up and ready to lead Richmond to a win.

the crowd roars as the whistle blows, and Jamie initiates kick off. you didn't think you would ever see him run as fast as he was on the treadmill yesterday, but somehow he is beating his own personal record. in the blink of an eye, he runs from one end of the pitch to the other. by some miracle, he seems to always have the ball in possession. after passing it back and forth, any time he's anywhere near the goal, the ball is at his feet.

in the 40th minute of the game, Jamie is crashing through Tottenham players, bumping shoulders with every single one as he makes his way towards their goal. you can see his cheeks puffing air in and out of his lungs rapidly, and after finding himself completely unobstructed, he kicks the ball with so much force that his mouth opens and you can almost hear his shout.

everything seems to go in slow motion. you hold your breath and raise your hands to cover your mouth. the ball flies through the air, magically curving towards the goal. the keeper jumps, hands in the air, and his finger tips merely brush the ball. but he's unable to push it hard enough, the ball crashing straight into the middle of the net.

the stadium erupts in cheers and roars, and you jump into the air with a loud scream. you hug Higgins in excitement and shake Keeley's shoulders before high-fiving Rebecca. you watch the team celebrate by running up to Jamie, who is stood completely still in the spot from where he scored. you can see his chest heaving, catching his breath as his teammates hug him and clap his back. but he doesn't seem to celebrate with them, instead you watch as he looks up and into the crowd without even a smile on his face. your expression falls, feeling your colleagues' eyes on you. Keeley grabs your hand, snapping your attention from the pitch to her; "go." she says, squeezing your hand. you purse your lips and nod at her, squeezing back, before pushing past Higgins and running inside.

as you rush through the VIP bar, you hear the half-time whistle. you head down the stairs and out the back of the stadium. you curse yourself for wearing your boots as you try to run to the main building. running doesn't seem to be your best bet, so you settle on a speed walk as you get closer and closer to the door. finally, you push open the door, passing by the reception desk you would normally sit at.

you continue your journey down the hallway and then turn right, heading straight for the locker room. you can hear the team from far away, cheering in celebration. as you turn the corner, you see all of them fall into the locker room in a line. they're so excited they don't notice you leaning against the wall watching them. the only person who isn't too busy celebrating, though, is Jamie Tartt, who is trailing behind the team like a sad puppy. his hands are wrapped in his shirt, and he's looking at his feet which he's scoffing across the floor. clearing your throat, you hope it catches his attention, his mind clearly elsewhere.

his head snaps up and looks in your direction. stopping dead in his tracks, he drops his hands from his shirt and fixes his headband. quickly glancing into the changing room, he goes unnoticed by the team as he dips his head and does a few long strides towards you.

"Jamie, I-"

"are you alright? like really alright? did I do somethin'?

"Jamie," you sigh deeply, not knowing how to explain Isaac's orders. "I'm sorry for ignoring you the past few days. it wasn't my idea, I promise."

"your idea? what're you talkin' about?" Jamie crosses his arms and shakes his head, a lock of hair moving forward into his eye.

you reach a hand up, gently moving the strand out of his vision. you watch as his eyes soften, dropping to the floor before they meet your gaze again. a sad crease appears between his eyebrows when you bring your hand down to your side again.

after taking a deep breath, you begin to explain; "Isaac said you were playing too friendly during training, slacking a little bit – and yeah, turning up late and then leaving early. he wanted you to be ready for today's match, y'know. so he asked me to rile you up a little bit, just so they could have the old Jamie Tartt back."

Jamie pouts, brows furrowed in confusion, as he blinks at you a few times. avoiding your eyes, he starts slowly nodding, tongue poking his cheek as he thinks to himself. after a few long seconds, the corner of his mouth lifts as he huffs a sarcastic laugh. you look up at him with wide eyes, hoping you haven't upset him. licking his lips, Jamie's smile widens as his laugh grows. you crack a small smile at him and try to find his gaze again, moving a step closer to him. placing a hand on his strong bicep, you try to get him to look at you. instead, he shrugs you off, leaning down and digging a finger into his sock. you stare, confused, waiting for his next move.

"so- if Isaac told you to ignore me a bit... what the fuck is this?" he unfolds a pink post-it note holding it up to you before reading it out loud; "dear Tartt, I don't even like lattes". Jamie raises his eyebrows at you while you stifle a laugh. "what makes this worse is the stupid fucking heart at the bottom of the page!"

"I was just trying to piss you off! Isaac told me!"

Jamie finally lets out a loud laugh, and you do the same, dropping your head into your hands in embarrassment. you don't have the gall to look up at him, suddenly so ashamed of the stupid gag you pulled. you feel warm hands wrap around your wrists, and you lift your head to look at Jamie as he pulls your hands away from your face.

"darlin' I hope you know the only reason I've been late to training is because I can't stop talking to you. and I leave early just so I can see you before the rest of the lads hound ya..."

you blush – hard – and you stare into Jamie's dark blue eyes. his hands slide from your wrists to your hands, softly holding your fingers in his. you sneak a glance at your touch, and when you look back up Jamie's even closer to you. as he towers over you, you can't help but look down at his lips before meeting his eyes again.

"now, don't lie to me... do you really not like lattes?"

"I love lattes." you whisper, smiling sweetly up at him as he shakes his head with a chuckle.

"can I take you out tonight? I wanna celebrate our win since you're the reason for it."

you scoff and shake your head: "Jamie, it's half-time."

"I can give you a lift home after, yeah?" he ignores your obvious statement.

"what if you lose?" you tease.

now it's Jamie's turn to scoff at you, squeezing your hands slightly as he says: "as long as you're in the crowd I'm sure that's not gonna happen."

"Jamie! we need you, buddy!" Ted interrupts the moment, sticking his head out of the door of the locker room to beckon him in.

"see you later, Jamie." you pull your hands from his, although against your will, as if you had it your way you would kiss him right then and there. he doesn't move as you turn around, about to turn the corner into the hallway before you feel a hand grab yours again. Jamie pulls your hand, making you spin around to face him again. as he tugs your hand, he wraps his other arm around your shoulders in a hug. your face presses into his hard chest as he holds you close for a moment. you let out a deep breath as you enjoy the heat radiating off his body.

as he moves back to let go of you, he leans down so his lips brush your ear before whispering: "nice shirt, by the way. my name suits ya."

your breath hitches at his flirtatious tone and a blush already starts creeping up your neck. he pulls back and flicks his eyes up and down your body. as he turns around to join his team, he winks at you, and even though he winks at you every day, this one hits you a lot harder.

as you watch Jamie retreat to the locker room, you lock eyes with Ted at its door. you try to fight the shy smile growing on your face, but fail miserably as a blush takes over your face. Ted lifts his hand to his forehead and salutes at you. you mirror him, bringing two fingers up to your head and saluting him back.

you walk back to the stadium fanning your face with your hands, desperately trying to cool yourself down. after sighing in relief, you laugh to yourself thinking about how your time at Richmond has changed over the past few weeks – and it was all due to Jamie Tartt.

when you return to your seat, Keeley squeals at you, making Rebecca jump. you shuffle past Higgins and sit back in your seat, touching up your hair and taking a deep breath.

"he asked me on a date!" you finally exclaim to Keeley and Rebecca, and the two respond with even louder squeals, which you join in on. your celebration is interrupted by the ref blowing his whistle, and you all focus on the game again.

the guys walk onto the pitch in single file, Isaac leading them out. their faces are stone cold, clearly ready to destroy their opponents. you stand up from your seat, eager to see Jamie after your encounter in the hallway. you finally spot him, and you can see him bouncing on his feet as approaches the pitch. once he's at the halfway line, and all the other players are finding their spot, you see him turn towards your side of the stadium. he looks up at the suite you're sitting in, and you quickly put your hands in the air, hoping he'll spot you. you assume he sees you, as he brings both hands to his lips and blows you a smooth kiss, before patting the Richmond badge on his chest and sticking his tongue out. you cackle at his antics, loving his dramatic entree. you quickly blow a kiss back and wave, praying they win this match so messing him around wasn't just for nothing.

you've never been more nervous watching a Richmond game. you've gone to a number of them since beginning your job as receptionist, but you've never been so enthralled by the sport itself – well, the players... one of the players.

Jamie sprints across the pitch, back and forth and back and forth, the ball at his feet. you, Keeley, and Rebecca scream and shout as you watch Richmond score three more goals. Colin scores with an impressive header, Dani bicycle kicks the ball straight into the net, and of course Jamie punts the ball past half the other players and the keeper, securing the last point for Richmond.

after the match, you find your way back to Richmond's headquarters, pushing open the same door you entered through earlier. this time, Keeley and Rebecca are walking in tow. you all stop at the reception desk, chatting about the game and your weekend plans.

"so how did he ask you out?" Rebecca lowers her voice, just in case Jamie turns the corner. you laugh nervously, shaking your head and waving your hands dismissively.

"no, no, no, he didn't ask me out. he asked me on a date. there's a difference."

"but he's so obviously into you! what's stopping you from just grabbing him by the hair and shagging him!" Keeley exclaims, a lot less subtle than Rebecca's careful tone. you sputter and laugh, Rebecca doing the same, both of you shocked at how direct Keeley spoke about you and Jamie.

"shut up you two! I'll let you know how it goes tonight, you go celebrate!"

Rebecca and Keeley hug you goodbye before walking down the hall. you turn around and giggle to yourself, blushing from Keeley's comment. lifting your head, your eyes fall on Jamie's wall sticker again. just thinking about how close he was to you earlier makes your heart race, your head dizzying at the memory of lips brushing your ear. fixing your hair, you move around the desk and sit in your usual chair. you try to calm your breathing and bring your heart rate down, not wanting to look like a yearning, blushing mess.

after managing to pull yourself together, your heart beat pounds against your chest again when you see the Richmond team crowd into the hallway. Isaac cheers when he sees you at your desk, and Colin, who is on his back, joins in.

"well done, boys!" you call to them while you wave at everyone passing you by.

"bye, y/n! see you on Monday!" Sam says to you with a big smile. you wave him goodbye and sigh happily, genuinely excited for the team.

their cheering goes quiet the further away they get from the door, and you wonder where Jamie is. you check your phone for any text messages, but there's nothing from Jamie. there is one from Keeley, however; 'don't forget to use protection!'

you scoff at her suggestive words, texting back a thumbs up with a kissy face. placing your phone down on your desk you look up, only to see Jamie sauntering towards you.

"hi, y/n," he says as he gets closer to the desk.

"hi, Jamie,"

"how ya been?"

"just fine, what about you, Jamie?"

"yeah, good, yeah... happy about our win."

"I can imagine. you were a proper superstar on that pitch."

wide smiles grow on both of your faces as you continue the small talk; "thanks, love. what can I say? Roy says I've got a right foot kissed by God, so ya'know this is just a regular day for me."

you chuckle at his feigned cockiness, standing up from your chair and leaning over your desk. "don't you want to go celebrate that win with your teammates, Jamie Tartt?"

"nah, that's alright, thanks. I've got other plans."

"oh yeah?" you tease.

"yeah, I've got dinner plans with a really pretty girl,"

you nod along with your eyebrows raised, smiling playfully at Jamie. his hair is still damp from the shower, but he's kept his same hairband look from on the pitch. he's wearing a bright orange t-shirt under a dark green jacket, an unexpectedly nice look on him.

"who's this girl then?"

"ah you'd love her; she's friendly, funny, gorgeous. she doesn't like lattes, though. and she pretended to ignore me but is still wearin' my name on her back."

you laugh, breaking character. you smile at him, raking your eyes up and down his body shamelessly. his eyes widen as you do so, surprised by how forward you're being. you bite your lip at him before saying: "you gonna treat her right, Tartt?"

he teases you back, matching your flirtatious tone. licking his lips, he lets his eyes drop to your lips: "if she'll let me."

———

just something from my mind hope u like it !

[eu-nicola]

sand

summary: Rafe got a new haircut and that catches your attention

warnings: nothing just tension

word counter: 2526

author's note: english is not my first language, part 2 is on my masterlist

The beach sparkled under the moonlight, the sand vibrating with music that seemed to envelop everyone in a carefree trance. The atmosphere was peculiarly relaxed for what used to be a mix of Kooks and Pogues. The lines usually marked by hostility and differences seemed to blur that night, at least on the surface. 

Bonfires were scattered along the beach, illuminating familiar and not-so-familiar faces. You were there, as always, in the center of things, not because you wanted to draw attention to yourself, but because your energy magnetized those around you. With a bottle of beer in hand, you moved to the beat of the music, your bare feet sinking slightly into the cold sand as you laughed and joked with your friends. 

The Kooks weren't far away, with their haughty laughter and conversations. Normally, you either ignored them or provoked them, depending on your mood. You were known for your explosive character, especially when you were around them. And if there was someone who brought out the worst in you, it was Rafe Cameron.

There was something about him that had always irritated you. Maybe it was his air of superiority, or how he seemed to always be looking for an excuse to belittle you or yours. You were no slouch either; if there was an opportunity to throw him a snide comment or a challenging look, you didn't let it pass you by.

But that night, something was different.

As you moved through the group, your eyes caught him in the distance, next to his friends. For a second, you didn't even realize it was him. Something had changed in his appearance. His normally disheveled hair had almost completely disappeared. He now sported a buzz cut that highlighted his cheekbones and jaw, making his blue eyes look even more intense under the glow of the fire.

You forced yourself to look away, but not without feeling that strange, uncomfortable heat spreading from your chest to your stomach. What the hell was happening to you? There was no way you could be reacting that way to something as trivial as a haircut. You shook your head, trying to dispel the thought.

“Everything okay?” Kiara asked, raising an eyebrow as she handed you another beer.

“Perfectly,” you replied, taking a long drink. You weren’t ready to admit what had just happened, not even to yourself.

Your eyes seemed to have a life of their own though, because despite your efforts, they kept searching for Rafe in the crowd. You saw him laugh at something Topper had said, his usual cocky grin. For some reason, it didn’t seem as irritating this time.

On an impulsive move, you decided to walk over to the nearest bonfire, where the Kooks were gathered. You weren’t going to talk to them directly, of course, but you wanted to prove to yourself that it didn’t affect you. You continued dancing, feeling the music run through your body, ignoring the curious glances of the others.

“Wow, John B’s younger sister mixing it up with the big boys? What a novelty.” The voice was unmistakable, loaded with sarcasm and defiance. You turned slowly, meeting Rafe’s eyes. He was sitting on one of the beach chairs, a bottle in his hand and that damn smirk on his lips.

“And you? Did they let you out of your golden throne for a night?” you answered without missing a beat, raising an eyebrow.

His friends let out a few stifled laughs, but he didn’t seem fazed. Instead, he stood up, taking a couple steps closer to you. The fire illuminated the contours of his face, making him look almost unreal.

“Like what you see?” he asked, pointing to his head with a nonchalant gesture.

Your mouth dropped open slightly, but you quickly regained your composure. “You look less like an asshole. That’s all.”

He laughed, a low, gravelly laugh that made your nerves tense. “Always with something nice to say, right?”

“Someone has to. Don’t expect your friends to tell you the truth.”

The exchange was quick, sharp as always, but this time there was something different in the air. There was tension, yes, but it wasn’t the usual hostility. There was something else, something you couldn’t or didn’t want to name.

You walked away from him, heading back to your friends, but you could feel his gaze fixed on your back. Trying to ignore it was futile. Every time you turned around, he was there, watching you with an intensity that made your heart pound.

That night, under the lights of the fire and the beat of the music, something had changed between you. You didn’t know what it was, or if you were ready to face it. But one thing was certain: Rafe Cameron had found a way to occupy your thoughts.

And with each drink you took, you felt the warmth of the alcohol begin to soften the edges of your usual bad mood, replacing it with a strange lightness. The salty air, the music, and the laughter around you seemed to envelop everything in an unreal bubble, as if the entire world was moving in slow motion. You tried to focus on your friends, on the conversation, on anything but those blue eyes you could still feel on you, even from across the bonfire.

Rafe Cameron. Damn. What was it about him tonight that you couldn't get him out of your mind? You tried to remember all the times he'd gotten on your nerves, all the arguments and taunts you'd exchanged, but even those memories seemed to lose their edge under the firelight and the effect of the alcohol.

You drank some more, the cold beer soothing the heat you felt on your skin, but not in your chest. Somehow, your mind kept coming back to him. To that damn haircut, to how his new look seemed to highlight how dangerous he’d always been, though this time in a way you hadn’t noticed before. 

“You’re so quiet.” It was JJ who spoke, giving you a slight nudge with his shoulder. You looked up at him, trying not to give anything away. 

“Just enjoying the moment,” you lied, raising your bottle to give him a carefree smile. 

Kiara chimed in, laughing. “That’s unlike you.”

You shrugged. “I guess I’m relaxing for once.”

But it wasn’t relaxation you felt. It was tension, a tension that grew with each passing second. Your eyes, as if they had a will of their own, found him again. He was sitting, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, listening to Topper speak. The firelight played with the lines of his face, making his cheekbones and jawline look even more pronounced.

And then, as if he sensed your gaze, his eyes met yours.

It was a direct hit, like the air had been ripped from your lungs. His expression didn't change, but there was something in his gaze that made you feel like he was challenging you, inviting you to something you couldn't quite figure out. A dangerous spark that ignited inside you.

You quickly looked away, but it was too late. The damage was done. Your heart was pounding, and you couldn't blame the alcohol alone for it.

You kept drinking, trying to drown out that feeling, but it was useless. The music surrounded you, vibrating in your ears, mixing with the sound of the waves and distant laughter. Your feet began to move to the beat without you thinking about it, and soon you were dancing again, lost in the moment.

The movement helped you clear your mind, at least for a little while. You turned, raising your hands, letting the music guide you. But you couldn’t help it: you wanted him to be looking at you. You wanted to feel his gaze on you like you had before.

Was it the alcohol? Was it the music? Or was it something that had always been there, buried under layers of pride and enmity? You didn’t know, and at the moment you didn’t care.

As you danced, your eyes met his again. This time, you didn’t look away. There was something in his expression that seemed to tell you that he was noticing something different tonight, too. His gaze was intense, calculating, as if he was analyzing every move you made.

You felt a rush of heat that had nothing to do with fire or alcohol. It was pure electricity, a spark that ran through you from head to toe. And, for the first time, you didn’t try to fight it.

Without thinking, you walked to the water's edge, letting the waves wash over your feet. The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the heat you felt. You closed your eyes, breathing deeply, trying to clear your mind. But when you opened them, there he was, standing just a few feet away.

Rafe didn't say anything at first. He simply watched you, his figure dimly illuminated by the moon. He looked calm, but his eyes told another story.

“Running away from something?” he finally asked, his voice low and teasing, though there was something else in his tone. Something that made your fingers clench into fists.

“From you, probably,” you answered quickly, though the tremor in your voice betrayed the confidence you were trying to project.

He laughed, moving a little closer. “From me? You don’t seem to be doing a very good job.”

There was something about the way he said it, something that made your heart race even faster. Why couldn’t you just hate him like always? Why did tonight, of all nights, feel like the air around you grew thicker every time he was around?

You didn’t answer. Instead, you looked at him, challenging him with your eyes, hoping he would be the one to break the silence that had settled between you.

The tension that hung between you was almost tangible, as if the salty air of the beach had transformed into something thicker, more electric.

Rafe looked at you as if he was seeing something for the first time, something he didn’t expect to find there, right in front of him. His expression had lost the usual mockery, and in its place was something else: a hunger, a need that lit the fire inside you even more.

He took a step closer to you, his boots sinking into the wet sand. He was so close now that you could smell the faint trace of his cologne mixed with the salt in the air. You didn’t know what to say or what to do. For the first time in a long time, you felt disarmed.

“Don’t keep looking at me like that,” he murmured, his voice low and laden with something you couldn’t quite place.

“How so?” you asked, though you barely recognized your own voice, a broken whisper that didn’t sound like you.

“As if you wanted something from me.”

Your lips parted, ready to blurt out some sarcastic retort, something to regain the control that seemed to have abandoned you. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Because the moment his words faded into the air, Rafe closed the distance between you and kissed you.

The first contact was almost a shock, a sudden explosion you weren’t expecting. His hands found your face, his fingers gently pressing against your cheeks as his lips captured yours with a desperation that made you lose your balance. You felt the heat of his body against yours, the force behind his kiss making it clear that this wasn’t something planned or thought out. It was pure instinct.

For an instant, your mind screamed for you to pull away, that this was wrong, that this was Rafe Cameron. But your body had other ideas. Your hands moved almost of their own volition, clinging to his shirt as you kissed him back with equal intensity. Every movement, every brush, seemed to tell him that you needed him too, even though you hated to admit it.

The sand beneath your feet seemed to move with you as you let yourself go. His breath was heavy against your lips, as if he was trying to absorb every part of you in that moment.

Rafe moved away just a few millimeters, his forehead resting against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. His hands hadn’t left your face, and his thumbs were tracing soft circles on your skin.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me with you tonight,” he murmured, his voice deep and breathy, as if he himself couldn’t understand what he had just done.

“Shut up,” you whispered before pulling his shirt down and kissing him again, this time being the one to take the initiative. Your heart was beating so fast you felt like it might explode, but you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was him, his lips moving against yours, his hands moving down your arms until they held your waist firmly.

He pushed you back slightly until you felt the cold water splashing against your feet. The contrast between the heat he caused you and the cold of the waves was almost overwhelming, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t.

His hands ran over your waist, holding on as if he was afraid you would fade away. You held on tight too, as if letting go of him this whole moment might crumble. Every kiss, every movement, was charged with an intensity you had never felt before. It was as if all the hatred, all the tension that had existed between you for years, had transformed into something completely different, something that terrified and fascinated you at the same time.

Finally, you pulled away, just enough to look into his eyes. His face was illuminated by the moonlight, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss, and his blue eyes looked at you as if they wanted to burn you into their memory.

“This doesn’t change anything,” you said, though your voice shook a little.

Rafe let out a soft laugh, a low, almost mocking sound, but not in the way he usually did. “Of course not,” he replied, though you both knew it was a lie.

It took you a second to pull away completely, your hands still shaking from the adrenaline. But before you could move, he grabbed your wrist gently, stopping you.

“This doesn’t end here,” he said, his tone serious, almost like a promise.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t say anything. You simply pulled your hand away, freeing yourself from his grip, and began walking back toward the bonfire, not daring to look back. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you were afraid that if you did, you wouldn’t be able to leave.

[somejazzinthemorning]

playing cupid.

Carlos Sainz x Reader [Warnings: Mentions of sex and some curse words. There are some inaccuracies, such as in this short story, Carlos has an apartment in Milan] Word Count: 9.7K

You're in this situationship with Carlos Sainz—no fuss, no drama, just sex. But then your dads become friends, and Sainz Sr., with a soft spot for you, decides to introduce you to his son, whom you've been... acquainted with for a while. To make things more interesting, he's on a mission to play Cupid, all while Carlos enjoys the thrill of keeping your little secret, playing along with his dad.

this was a request! always feel free to request and if i have some free time, I'll try to write something 🫶🏼

“Apparently, our dads met”, you say, rolling off Carlos's lap, still flushed and your breath ragged. The soft bed cushions your fall as you curl up beneath the deep blue blanket that usually adorns the foot of Carlos's bed, but this time is just part of the mess.

Carlos studies you with a faint frown, tousled hair spilling over his forehead. He looks incredibly handsome, basking in the afterglow of your encounter. If it weren’t for the late hour and your impending early morning, you would consider straddling him again. However, it’s nearly 2 a.m. and you need to be at the atelier by 9, so you just wish to sleep.

“Really?” There’s an undertone you don’t quite understand.

“What?”

"You just killed the mood.” He lays back on the bed and turns to face you. His hands seek out your shoulder, and his nimble fingers begin tracing delicate patterns on your skin, a clear indication that he’s not ready to let the night end just yet. “Mentioning my dad right after I cum inside you? Not exactly what I expect.”

“I just remembered it, and now I know you’ll get your hands off of me and let me sleep.”

“Oh, that’s not what I was expecting, as well.”

You pout, mocking him. “Poor you,” he rolls his eyes and falls dramatically against his pillow. “I’m just expecting a good night of sleep because some of us have work to do during the week and not just on weekends.” He cocks an eyebrow at you. “Oh, I’m sorry. I know that sometimes you work during the week.”

Carlos opens his mouth to retort, but he doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence. In an instant, he sits up, looming over you, and seizes both your wrists, pinning them against the headboard. With his other hand, he's ready to tug the blanket over your form.

"Don't you dare tickle me, Carlos Sainz. Or I swear to God—"

"What are you going to do?" Carlos interrupts, his mischievous grin returning. As you lock eyes with him, you realize there's very little you can do, and oddly enough, you're entirely fine with that. Except,

"Spit in your face."

His playful smirk remains as he leans in closer, his voice a sultry whisper. "Spit in my face, huh?” he taunts, his fingers inching closer to your sides. “Think I’m going to risk it.”

"Sainz,” you squirm under his touch, desperately trying to maintain your composure. But he’s already grinning, and his fingers are approaching your sides. “I'm warning you..."

And suddenly, it's too late. He pounces, his fingers dancing across your sides, and you burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter, some of them louder than you expected them to be. Carlos knows all your ticklish spots, and he exploits them shamelessly. It’s been what…? Four months since you first slept together. By now he knows your body better than any guy ever did. And honestly, you’re not sure what to feel about that.

"Carlos, stop!" you manage to gasp between laughter, trying to wriggle free from his grip. It's a futile effort as he continues his relentless assault, determined to elicit every giggle and squeal he can from you.

Finally, he relents, his laughter joining yours as he releases your wrists. You pant for breath, your cheeks flushed from both the laughter and the earlier efforts. You take the opportunity to jump out of bed. “You’re the worst. I gotta pee.”

You disappear into the bathroom, to pee, clean yourself and try to comb your hair, and by the time you go back to the bedroom, you’re expecting him to be asleep. But you find him awake. His eyes shine brighter when you go through the door, and he watches you with a tender smile as you enter the bed and curl against him, fitting perfectly into his embrace.

The warmth of his body against you is comforting.

"I think I'll let you sleep now," he voices low in your ear, as he pulls over the comforter and covers you both.

"You better.”

Carlos's chest rises and falls rhythmically beneath your cheek as you nestle closer. You can hear the faint hum of his heartbeat, and it lulls you into a peaceful state. He smells like Bleu de Chanel and the lingering traces of your passion. With every breath, you inhale the essence of the man who has woven himself into the fabric of your life, in more ways than one.

Just as you're about to close your eyes and drift off to sleep, it hits you like lightning—the visit your mom mentioned, the whole reason you brought up his dad’s name.

You nudge Carlos gently, rousing him from his half-asleep state. "Just remembered something."

Carlos doesn’t even open his eyes. "Hmm?”

“My dad invited yours over,” you were not sure if you should be excited or nervous. Not for the visit itself, but for Carlos’ reaction to the idea of you meeting his dad.

After all, you had just been sleeping together, barely leaving your apartments, except for that one time he took you out to dinner, and that was probably because it was your birthday and perhaps Carlos would feel bad about just booty-calling you and ignoring the whole birthday thing.

“Well, that’s a nice way to introduce you to him.”

“What?”

Carlos just pressed you closer to him, like you weren’t practically glued together already. "It's okay, cariño. They’ll love you. Now sleep."

It all started at Milan Fashion Week when Carlos was representing Ferrari at an event. You were there, lurking in the shadows, taking in the magic of the fashion show. Your mentor had gotten you there, a favour you'll always be grateful for. There's a lot you can't remember about the event, about the whole night to be fair, but you remember the man awkwardly sitting in the front row. Fashion is not his thing, you thought. You kind of knew that. You kind of knew him.

He drives for Ferrari, he's handsome, he has a thick Spanish accent and hair I would pay to touch.

And that was more than enough to make you introduce yourself at the end of the show. From there, making out in a club took a little more than two hours. To his bed, just a little bit more than that.

You continued to see each other, booty-calling each other when you were feeling horny, bored, or just lonely. Your situationship was a good deal for both parties. No strings attached, which you enjoyed because you had little time and no patience to make any kind of effort to actually maintain a relationship. And Carlos, well... he was also busy as hell, so... all good. So you never went on dates, never needed to put on expectable amounts of makeup for over-the-top dresses. Except for your birthday, when he decided to take you out, and you had to make the effort. But that was your birthday.

Other than that, you would only leave your apartments to go get food at a 24-hour store or McDonald's. You remember that one time you wanted gelato and Carlos took you to his favourite place in Milan, but... other than that, it was just sex. Okay, just sex and marathons of Game of Thrones and House of The Dragon (that led to more sex) and some cooking too. You once taught him how to make your nana's lasagna and how a true Italian bruschetta is done. And a few days later, he cooked you his mom's carbonara—not a real carbonara, not at all. And, let’s be fair, he often brought you pizza from your favourite place in Milano and expensive bottles of wine.

But… “That’s a nice way to introduce you to him”?

You were not expecting that at all.

The idea lingered in your mind all night, and you woke up thinking about it too. You left his apartment while Carlos was still in the shower, just shouting goodbyes while you gathered your stuff and ran to the atelier. He would be out of town for a couple of weeks, away at some races, and you would have time to figure out how your parents met and when said visit was going to happen. All good.

Turns out you didn't have as much time as you thought.

That afternoon, your mom calls you, excitedly recounting their amazing trip to Canada and how much fun your dad had at the race. So, that was where they met. She also shares her plans about taking your brothers to Monza in a couple of months. You nod absentmindedly, your attention more focused on the magazine in front of you than on her words. It's often like this.

Your dad travels for work and actually works. He's a sports manager, deeply passionate about football and motorsports, especially Formula 1. Lately, he's been leaning more towards the latter, especially since he's contemplating retirement. On the other hand, your mom, an ex-model who married a well-off man, has chosen to focus on being a wife and a mother, a role she fulfils with dedication. So, when they’re back home, dad has work to do, contacts to keep and your mom has… well, more than enough time to tell you everything.

"And your dad and Sainz met at the golf course, you know?" your mom continues, her voice full of admiration. "A charming young man. He was golfing with his dad too. Your father had to tell them you refused to join him on the greens."

"In that, he's absolutely right."

"So, they kept talking. They even played together, I think. And he mentioned we were going to the race, and Sainz suggested he could call, and he'd arrange a garage tour. We met him at the paddock, but we ended up not getting the tour because there were already enough guests in there, but… Isn't he just amazing? And so incredibly handsome, piccina. So handsome."

You cringe inwardly at your mom's thirst for Carlos, unable to shake the image of her ogling your... friend. But you hum in response, unable to voice your discomfort because the next moment, she's raving about a dress she bought for you and the amazing designer she met in New York just before returning to Milan, and that topic steals all attention.

But just before she’s about to hang out, you remember why she called you in the first place.

“Mom, about the visit you mentioned? The dinner?” you interject and she chuckles; you can almost envision her rubbing her temples.

"Oh, silly me. I actually called you to discuss that," she sighs. "He's coming to visit us this weekend! You have to come home and meet him; he's really looking forward to getting to know you."

"Doesn't he race this weekend?"

"The young—Since when do you care about F1?"

"I don't. I just—” You quickly think of something, but you’re not quite sure if you want to tell your mother that you’ve been fucking Sainz. The younger one. Of course. “I saw something on Twitter."

"Oh, I see. Well,” she clicks her tongue. “It's his dad who's coming. Weren’t you listening? And his mom. We invited them both. Your dad wants to take him to the club and network a bit and you know… I’m always down for making friends and Reyes seems like a lovely woman. She wasn’t there, but I’ve heard about her around. Even her name is super elegant. Isn’t it?” Once again, you hum, frowning, thinking about the movie where you just found yourself in. “So, please, come home.”

“Noted. So, this weekend?”

“Yes. Do you need Dad to pick you up tomorrow after work?”

You move in your seat. “I’m just so busy with work right now, mom. The new collection and—” She cleans her throat and you just nod to the empty room. “Okay. Yes, please, tell Dad to pick me up.”

Of course, the second you hang up you text Carlos. He’s probably busy, it’s Thursday so he’s doing interviews or something, and, as you expected, he doesn’t reply to your text right away. Despite everything, he doesn’t take too long.

Not surprisingly, he’s very nonchalant about it all.

hot wheels guy: just tell them we know each other, no big deal hot wheels guy: and we’ll tell them more when i’m back

But, yeah… You can’t help but frown looking at the phone. He’s golfed with your dad, met your mom, met again with your dad and he’s not even feeling weird about it all?

you: hm? no? hot wheels guy: why not? you: you went golfing with my dad!!! hot wheels guy: and? hot wheels guy: how would i guess he was your dad? you: how many Y/LN do you think there are in milan? you: he told you he’s from milan!! there are not a lot of us in here hot wheels guy: do you have any idea of how many people i meet every weekend? you: 🙄 hot wheels guy: stop being a brat you: 🙄 hot wheels guy: i don’t see a problem in golfing with your dad hot wheels guy: is that supposed to be weird? you: YES !!!! hot wheels guy: stop being dramatic hot wheels guy: if they say anything, tell them you know me hot wheels guy: if they don’t, don’t you: they will hot wheels guy: so you know what to do

Friday’s dinner went exceptionally well, with conversations flowing effortlessly between food and wine, despite the inevitable sports-centric discussions that seemed to dominate the evening. Your brothers were beyond ecstatic to have Carlos Sr. as a guest in their home. They'd had their fair share of famous athletes sitting at the family table, but never had they been as excited as they were when Carlos Sr. entered the house. As a result, you found yourself somewhat on the sidelines, listening more than speaking throughout the meal.

And you were grateful for that.

The same didn’t happen on Saturday. Your dad took the morning to showcase some of your work and discuss your future prospects in the fashion industry with both Carlos and Reyes. In what you think was a gesture of gratefulness, Reyes displayed a lot of interest in your little atelier, located by the pool, in what used to be a shed for the gardener. So, you spent the morning around there, talking with them about fashion and business, and then joined them for lunch in one of your dad’s favourite restaurants.

Let's be fair, you have an extraordinary way with words and a charm that makes your mother proud. It was easy for you. By the time dinner came, you were already adored by the Sainzes. Without making an effort, you found yourself talking about art and travel, and letting Sainz Sr. explain to you the magic and the challenges of Dakar.

However, it isn’t until the next morning that you find yourself alone with him.

You both sat down for breakfast on the patio, and he’s now engrossed in reading the newspaper, while you’re drinking your cappuccino and doing your best to ignore the fact that the man sitting in front of you is, in essence, your… fuckbuddy’s dad.

There’s the usual “good morning” and the “hope you got some rest”, to which the guest always has some lovely comment to say about the bed, or the room, or the house in general. It’s an amazing guest house, you have to admit. And Sainz is no expectation. You exchange a couple of pleasantries and he’s back at reading the news, so you let your guard down.

Then, unexpectedly, Carlos Sr. turns his attention from the newspaper and directs it squarely at you. Grey eyebrows lifting at the same pace his eyes fill with a weird glint.

“I would love to introduce you to my son,” he says, and a faint frown tugs at your lips as words form in your throat, only to wither away unspoken. "I'm not implying anything," he says with a hint of amusement in his voice, "just that I believe the two of you would get along well."

You respond hesitantly, "Oh, I know him."

"I know you know him," he laughs, and you realise that something might have gotten lost in translation because when he talks again he says, "But what I mean is that you should meet. I'll make sure to introduce you two next time we're all in town."

And well, you feel too embarrassed to correct him, so you just smile and mumble an “I can’t wait. Excuse me”, before getting up from the table and sprinting up to your room.

you: great news. your dad wants to introduce us you: what do i do?

He takes a couple of hours to text back.

hot wheels guy: why didn’t you tell him you know me already? you: i tried to!

The next time you’re all in town happens one week and a half from there, when Carlos is finally back in Italy after a few races and a couple of days in Madrid. And, because the universe is a pain in the ass, you’re swarmed with work to the point you’ve been falling asleep right after dinner, even before the time Carlos usually rings you up.

It’s a terrible schedule.

You’ve been waking up at 5 am to be by the seamstress at 7, to have some work ready to show at 9 am, between your mentor’s arrival at the atelier and the time he leaves for some meeting or brunch with models somewhere in Milan. Somehow, during that interval, he has time to break your work to pieces, destroying it (and destroying you in the process) with criticism. Critique leaves you on the verge of tears, and by the end of the day, you’re a mess—stressed, irritable and utterly exhausted. Not to mention the ever-present sexual frustration, with vivid dreams of a certain Spaniard leaving you hot and bothered in your sleep.

The perfect recipe for a restless night.

Apparently, Carlos got to Milan on Wednesday, because that night you woke up at midnight on your couch, a half-empty glass of wine by your side, your unfinished sketches scattered before you and three missed calls from Carlos, accompanied by a series of texts. Thursday, the same happened. The texts were nothing too dramatic, just variations of “u up?”, “cmon its 10 pm”, and “you can’t be asleep”.

On both days, in your half-sleep haze, you manage to reply as you shuffle your way to your bedroom something similar to “sory, talktomorrw”.

And then Friday arrives, and your calendar pings with the reminder that in one hour your dad will be picking you up for dinner. You’re sitting on your vanity and already dreading the day your dad decided to go to Montreal.

You’re not feeling it.

Firstly, you have to slather on a ton of make-up just to feel decent. Your dark circles are as pronounced as ever, you’re skin is pale and your acne is acting up, probably all due to the lack of sun, sleep, rest of any food that isn’t reheated pizza or store-bought noodles.

So, yes, the prospect of dinner and being introduced as Carlos’ whatever doesn’t exactly lift your spirits.

The anticipation gawns at you as you finish getting ready. You can’t shake the feeling of unease, a nagging doubt that you’re about to step into a situation that might be more than you signed up for. Carlos’ dad seems nice enough, and his mom absolutely adores you, but this is different, especially because his dad is expecting to introduce you and well… you’re way past that.

As you stare at your reflection, you take a deep breath and remind yourself that this isn't just about you. Your brothers are looking forward to meeting Carlos, and your dad seems genuinely excited about his friendship with his dad. So, you summon a smile, albeit a forced one, and decide to make the most of this evening, even if you're not entirely sure what to expect.

Yeah. Scratch that. The dinner is about you.

As you approach the restaurant, a different sense of anticipation washes over you. It feels like a scene from a movie where you're about to meet an arranged husband. The Sainz family stands by the door, engaged in lively conversation. Reyes waves at you when she sees you making your way to them.

Your eyes naturally gravitate toward Carlos. Firstly, because you kind of miss him. It’s been a while since you last saw him and there’s no point in looking for comfort somewhere else, so you are, let's say… slightly needy. And secondly, because he’s clad in a baby blue button-up and pristine white pants. A vision. You're only human, after all, with eyes and perhaps a few too many hormones.

In summary: You’re fucked. Dinner will be fun.

From your back and close to your ear, a whisper arises. “Be nice,” your mom says. As you turn to her, her lips are curling into a wide smile. “Carlos! Reyes! Such a delight to see you both again. And, Carlos,” she turns to the younger one, “it’s an absolute pleasure to finally see you in a more personal environment.”

You take a deep breath.

Your brothers, bursting with energy, practically race each other to get to Carlos, almost taking you down in the process. He skillfully engages them in conversation, a grin playing on his lips, until your mom intervenes.

"Now, now, boys. You'll have plenty of time to chat," she chuckles. Your mom swiftly moves your overeager brothers and offers an apologetic smile to Carlos. "Apologies, they're just excited.”

“No problem,” he says, in Italian, something he doesn’t do often when he’s alone with you. He claims he still needs to learn dirty talk in Italian. You love to teach him by whispering it into his ear. More than that, you love watching his face as he slowly grasps their meaning.

Your dad, then, approaches him for a way-too-manly handshake, but a warm smile reigns on his lips. “Carlos, great to see you again.”

“Thank you, sir. Likewise.”

In the meantime, you went to Reyes. She graced you with a compliment, a kiss on the cheek and the promise to visit your atelier in the near future. Then, it’s time for her husband, and you’re already wearing your best smile because that man is beaming as he’s watching you.

“My dear,” after two kisses on the cheeks, he slightly turns to Carlos. “So nice to see you again. Son,” he calls, and Carlos turns to you, his smile radiant, his eyes sparkling under the warm, ambient lights of the restaurant. “Let me introduce you to Y/N.”

"You're even more beautiful than my mom described," he remarks, his words catching you off guard. You manage to suppress the urge to roll your eyes, opting instead for a faint smile. “My dad has shared so much about you. Couldn’t wait to meet you.”

A surge of mixed emotions washes over you. On one hand, there's a twinge of frustration that he didn't tell his family about your connection, correcting your mistake and saving you from embarrassment. Yet, as his adoring gaze meets yours, it's hard not to be swept away by his warm compliments.

“Oh,” you murmur, feeling something shift inside you. Your own words surprise you, leaving you momentarily at a loss. "Thank you. Likewise."

Unknown to you, you echo almost exactly what Carlos had just said to your dad. The similarity draws a chuckle from Senior, who seems to find the exchange quite entertaining. Carlos chuckles as well and motions to the restaurant with his head.

“Should we?”

As the evening progresses, you can't help but steal glances at Carlos when you think no one is looking. You catch his eye occasionally, and he responds with subtle winks and sly smirks that send shivers down your spine. It's almost like a secret language only the two of you understand. He’s sitting in front of you, of course.

“Piccina,” your mom calls. “Why don’t you tell Carlos about your job?”

With a smile, you turned to face Carlos. He raises his eyebrows in curiosity, and you have to take a second before answering. He’s no stranger to your job. Not at all. Sometimes he even lands a helping hand, providing some foot massages while you’re working through tight deadlines and he doesn’t take “no” for an answer when he asks if he can come over.

So you simply say, “I’m a fashion designer.”

“Oh,” it’s the polite oh, not the filled-with-curiosity one. You know he’s about to say something stupid when his tongue peeks through his lips and the corner of his lips starts raising, moulding his mouth in a smirk. “So you just play dress-up for a living?”

Laughter bubbled up from one of your brothers, earning him a scolding look from your mom. They’re just nine, which makes them fifteen years younger than you. Fondly referred to as "an accident" by your parents, they were the light of your life, even if they were quite the whirlwind.

“And you, Carlos, you just play with cars on the weekends?” Carlos's eyes gleamed with mischief as he looked down, a chuckle escaping him. Sr. Carlos wore a pleased smile, and a delightful warmth settled in your belly.

"Some might find it hard to believe, but we do manage to squeeze in some actual work during the week," Carlos chimed in, earning a laugh from you. "Have you ever been to a race?”

“No, and I don’t intend to.”

"The boys are the true racing enthusiasts,” your dad chimes in. “The girls prefer to stay at home, or walk around when we travel for a Grand Prix.”

Turning to you, Carlos's eyes danced with mischief. You remembered a previous conversation where he'd tried to persuade you to attend the Italian Grand Prix, just a few weeks away. Wanting to stop him, because he’s so predictable that you just know what he’s about to say, you try to change the subject.

“Talking about races, are you playing on doing Dakar again next year, Signore?”

Carlos dismisses your question right away. "I think your perspective might change once you experience a Grand Prix firsthand.”

And this time, Carlos Sr. joins him. "Why not extend an invitation for them to visit the garage? I'm sure the kids will love the opportunity. And, Y/N, I’m sure you’ll find it all exciting. You seem like a curious girl.”

Carlos beamed. "Consider this an invitation. I can't wait to have you all there.”

Your brothers practically have a collective stroke, their young minds struggling to process the idea of visiting Carlos in the garage. As for your dad, despite his time in the paddock, had never had the chance to visit the Ferrari garage, so, despite keeping his composure, you know how much it means to him—he’s undeniably the most fervent tifoso you'd ever known.

With a grateful smile, you spoke up. "That's incredibly kind of you. Thank you.”

Carlos leans comfortably against his Alfa Romeo parked in easy reach of your dad’s Audi. Your brothers are sleeping in the back seat, while your parents conclude their chat. They’re getting along well, which is weird but comforting to some degree.

You shoot Carlos a serious glance. “How much longer are you going to keep up with this little thing you started?”

“Me? May I remind you that you were the one who didn’t tell him we met?” You roll your eyes at his words and grab the door knob. “Wait. Don’t you see he’s trying to set us up?”

“And?”

“Play along. Let him have it.”

There's a moment of silent understanding, the shared secret between you adding an extra layer of intimacy. Despite it all, you crack a smile.

“You’re so childish.” You say. “You’ll be the one who’s gonna tell him.”

“I’ll tackle that when we get there,” Carlos assures. And slowly, a playful glint shines in his eyes. “Should I swing by your place on my way home?”

“No way. I have work tomorrow, a lot of work to do and I can’t afford to be tired to do it.”

He tilts his head thoughtfully. “You can stay at mine, then. And I could drive you to work. It’ll give you an extra thirty minutes of sleep.”

You chuckle, impressed by his attention to detail. “You don’t even know where I work.”

“Of course, I do,” he assures.

That’s new. “Well,” you take a deep breath and discreetly hand him over your apartment keys. “I won’t ring the bell because the old lady on my floor will listen and I think she’s spying on me. I’ll call when I’m there.”

As you're about to bid him goodnight, your dad's voice calls out from a distance, catching Carlos's attention. He waves warmly and flashes a friendly smile, which Carlos mimics.

“Golf on Sunday?” your dad asks.

Carlos's eyes light up with enthusiasm. “Absolutely! Can't wait!”

You can't help but interject, “Golfing with my dad, again? What the heck are you doing?”

Carlos grins. “Finding a golfing partner, since someone here,” he gestures playfully at you, “refuses to join me. And unfortunately, my dad isn't always around in Italy to tag along.”

You roll your eyes in mock exasperation. “Alright, Sainz. Nice to meet you. See you soon.”

He drives you to work and to your surprise, he actually knows where that is. How? You can’t tell. Apparently, he also remembers that you bring breakfast for your mentor on Saturdays because just before he drops you off, he offers to join you for a few minutes, just to pick up breakfast with you.

“Since you’ve got no time to eat with me, I’ll just tag along and annoy you for ten minutes more.”

You let him enter the coffee shop with you and he hovers on your back while you order two moccas and two brownies to go with it. Your mentor is not picky, and this Saturday breakfast tradition only started because you wanted to thank him for granting you a few hours from his weekend to help you with your designs. Technically, it’s not work, but it’s just as demanding.

You can feel Carlos’ breath against your hair, and the faint smell of his cologne, still hanging in his shirt from the previous night. This morning, the buttons are undone, and the sleeves are folded up. His hair is tousled and his beard is imperfect. Yet he’s the most handsome man around.

“First time picking up breakfast together,” he says as you’re walking towards the door. “Is this the equivalent to marriage in your dictionary?”

“Don’t make me regret all the past decisions I’ve made.”

“Hm,” he hums, tilting his head. “What could I possibly make you regret?”

“Simply the fact of accepting to be introduced to you,” You let an exaggerated sigh leave your lips. “I’m living the nightmare all over again.”

Just before leaving a kiss on your cheek, he whispers. “Didn’t sound like a nightmare when I made you come thrice last night, baby. But go off.” He then kisses you on the cheek. “Have a good day.”

Carlos is too busy that night, and your Sunday is reserved for a family gathering. By Monday, you're back to your routine of nodding off right after dinner, so by the time Tuesday arrives, you’re already missing him. Not him—just his body in your bed, the sensation of his thick lips sliding down your navel and the sound of your name rolling off his tongue, wrapped up in that beautiful deep Spanish accent of his. You know he’s driving next weekend, so you spend all Wednesday staring at your phone, trying to summon a text from him.

When it finally pings, around 5 pm, it’s from your dad.

papà: heading to squash in an hour. up for a game? papà: no use in saying no papà: you already missed two weeks you: 🙄🙄🙄 you: i’ll meet you there!

You were the one who introduced your dad to squash, and gradually, it evolved into a bonding activity for both of you. Words don't flow easily with him, and you’re not great at demonstrating feelings so it’s difficult to connect with your dad. On top of that, you moved out really early. Slowly squash became a great way to connect and have quality time with him, release some steam, and stay in shape.

“I’m surprised. You never mentioned that you play squash,” a voice chimes in from behind, and you can't help but let out a sigh when you turn around.

It's Carlos, donned in a stupidly tight turquoise shirt that perfectly hugs and draws the contour of his chest, and sporting the briefest shorts you've ever seen him wear. He smiles. He knows he looks hot.

“How could I?” You reply, trying to not showcase how weak your knees just turned. “We only met like… five days ago.”

Carlos chuckles. “You’re funny. Did I tell you that yet?”

“Hmmm. You haven’t had the chance, yet.”

Sainz Sr. approaches you both, moving at a leisurely pace, absorbed in his phone. When he looks up, his frown disappears and an adoring smile takes his lips. His hand rests on his son’s shoulder as he remarks, “Didn’t I tell you today would be a perfect day for a match?”

Carlos turns to you, raising an eyebrow. "You did. What a coincidence.”

"Indeed," you chime in. "May I challenge you, sir? My dad’s still on a call and I have no partner."

“Oh, Carlos can join you,” he suggests with a nod in Carlos’ direction. “I’ll wait for your dad. We have some matters to discuss. Carry on, you two.”

Of. Course.

As the two of you step onto the squash court, the competitive glint in Carlos' eyes is hard to miss. And the tension in the air is palpable, you feel it in your bones. But you take a deep breath and push it aside, focusing on the game ahead.

"Why the sudden cold shoulder?" Carlos inquires as you prepare to start.

You glance at him, puzzled. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm getting radio silence from you—no calls, no texts. You're not picking up my calls, either. What’s going on?"

You roll your neck, trying to ease the tension. Yesterday you just collapsed onto your couch, once again. You were living in survival mode. And wouldn’t be there playing if it wasn't a long-standing tradition with your dad.

"Work's been keeping me busy," you shrug.

It's not entirely a lie. But it’s not totally true either.

Let’s see—you've been involved in this situationship for almost five months now, seeing each other sporadically, sometimes even daily, if Carlos is in Milan. Yet, it's all so casual. You can recall the day he mentioned introducing you to his parents, of course. As a matter of fact, that talk has been looping in your mind for the last few days, but… it was a joke. Right? Sure it was. Why would he want his parents to meet his... whatever?

You could have texted him earlier. You would have texted him a few weeks ago, before all this. You can’t quite figure out why you’re panicking and why you’re behaving like a rom-com character, but you are.

"Come on, that excuse won't stick with me."

“Too bad. Can we play?" You grip the racket, twirling it in your hands. You look back, at his dad sitting on the benches, watching you from afar. “Please?”

He lets out a sigh and nods. Finally, you think.

"Is this a date?" he asks, grabbing a ball from his shorts and meeting your gaze.

"No." You're firm, and once again, he frowns. "It's not. For one, you didn't invite me. We just happened to both be here. It's coincidental.” He laughs here, slightly tilting his head back. You both know it is not coincidental. “And two, that's not what we're doing."

He cracks a smile, almost teasing. "So, what are we not doing?"

"The dating thing. We're not dating."

"Aren't we?" He smirks, his tongue peeking out, licking his lips.

You shake your head. "Nope."

"Alright, cool. Just wanted to be clear on that," Carlos replies with a nonchalant shrug, though you detect a glimmer of amusement in his voice. He’s as annoying as he’s pretty.

The first serve is swift and precise. The sound of the ball hitting the wall reverberates through the court. You dive into the game, putting your all into each movement. It's a dance of strategy and agility. You’re exhausted, but you put on a fight, using banter as your weapon. On the outside, your parents are watching, and you can’t help but notice Sainz Sr. is thoroughly enjoying this.

Sweat starts to bead on your foreheads, but neither of you shows any sign of slowing down. He wants to win and well… you want to make him lose. As you play, you steal glances at Carlos, his concentration evident in the set of his jaw and the fire in his eyes, in the curse words he whispers under his breath, ones that frustration draws from him. You’ve heard them before. Oh, God, you’ve heard so much worse. But it all combined? This is a side of him you haven't seen before, and it's exhilarating.

After a particularly intense rally, Carlos manages to secure a point with a deftly placed shot. He smirks, clearly pleased with himself. "You're not making this easy," he remarks.

You grin, determined. "Wouldn't want to go easy on you, now, would I?"

The court echoes with the sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor and the thud of the ball hitting the walls. Time seems to blur as you lose yourself in the rhythm of the game. He makes you laugh and shout insults in his direction, to which he laughs.

Finally, after a hard-fought match, Carlos clinches the victory. It's a close call, and you’re about to pass out. It’s a shitty mixture of disappointment and pride. Leaning against the wall of the court, you try toth catch your breath.

"You're pretty good at this," Carlos admits, wiping the sweat from his brow with a towel.

"Yeah, well, I have to stay in shape to keep up with you," you quip.

He chuckles, "Am I that demanding?"

"Am I that demanding?" You repeat, forcing a Spanish accent and a deep voice. He chuckles and stands up straight. "Did your dad tell you to come here today?"

"Yes. For some reason, he really likes you. Like I told you he would."

You can't help but chuckle at Carlos's words. "Well, he’s certainly enjoying playing cupid. But hey, fun game.”

Carlos nods a genuine smile on his face. "Yeah, it was. Finally got to see you outside the flat. It's quite weird to see you with clothes at this point."

"Oh, God, you're such a prick."

He laughs, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Can I drop by later today?"

You glance toward your parents, who are engaged in a lively conversation, and then back at Carlos.

"No. Early morning tomorrow. And I still have work to finish today.” You’re not lying to him, you’re lying to yourself. Even when he’s looking at you with puppy eyes, you don’t go back with your words. Instead, you stand up straight and fix your hair. “Should I expect to coincidently meet you somewhere else in the next few days?"

You know the answer to that question. You know he’s going to be away for two weekends. And you kinda know he knows you know, because when he answers, there’s the faintest smile on his lips.

"I'll be off for two weeks. Hungary and Belgium.”

"Good luck at those, then.”

“Really appreciate it.”

Yeah, so…. That night, Carlos texted you. Not a casual “u up?”, but a “it was so fucking unfair to see you in that skirt and not being able to fuck you in it” and naturally you couldn’t help but to let out an exasperated groan and promptly respond with a “come over.” So, twenty minutes later you were being screwed against your kitchen counter.

And now you’re on the couch, his head buried between your legs, eating you up like a starved man. Yes. You need to be fit to keep up with this man’s stamina. He’s that demanding. But you can’t complain.

It’s been like this. A lot of pleasure. And then a lot of peace of mind.

Afterwards, he reclines on the chaise lounge, scrolling through TV channels, looking for something remotely bearable. You go get your sketch notebook and use his torso as a pillow. He watches tv and you work, until sleep creeps over you and you fall asleep in his arms.

Five months of this. You can’t put a label on it, but you can’t imagine living without it.

Carlos only wakes you up to take you to bed, and that night he sleeps over, sprawled across your bed like a starfish, leaving you clinging to him to not fall over. In the morning, you make out in bed, lazy and sleepy. He fucks you in the shower, and then he’s off again. He texts you when he's at the airport, and once more when he lands in whichever country he's racing in. Meanwhile, you carry on with your everyday life—a bit more mundane than being fuckbuddies with a Scuderia Ferrari driver but just as busy.

As it became regular, you exchange a few texts while he's away. It's become a ritual—complimenting him on how handsome he looks after his sessions, and him requesting a selfie so he can return the favour. He sends you snapshots of random things that made him think of you, and if truth be told, you do the same. You share selfies as you stroll by the Ferrari store in Milan and send him memes (which sometimes require a brief explanation). Without fail, he sends you a good morning and a good night, and whenever you're awake, you make sure to reply.

And life happens for those two weeks.

It’s boring. It’s dull. It’s ordinary.

And then on a Monday evening your bell rings and you can’t help but leave your apartment and wait for him on the landing, right in front of the elevator, not caring if your neighbour is watching through the peephole.

“Missed me?” he quips, already unburdening himself of his backpack as he steps out of the elevator. Sunglasses perched atop his head, skin kissed by the sun, eyes wide like the moon. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen.

“Never,” you jest, but it's a flimsy façade, quickly shattered as you pull him close, urgency coursing through you.

Damn, you've missed him. You crave him.

And he craves you too. He's straightforward in showing it.

After you both shower, you settle on the couch. You ask him about why he had two races that weekend and he teases you because you finally demonstrate an interest in F1, and only then, after you’re insulting him and threatening to not go to Monza, he actually explains to you how a sprint weekend works, but he’s being so nerdy and so adorable and his eyes are sparkling so much that you just get back in his lap and ride him again, but this time slower, and more passionate, like you’re feeling something materialise inside you. And you come on his lap, and he kisses you slowly, and you tell him you actually missed him.

For dinner, you agree on sushi and night falls while you’re watching The Office for the only-God knows-how-many time, curled up in each other and drinking wine.

Apparently, there’s a mandatory period of vacations in F1 and unfortunately, it doesn’t match your own. So, Carlos is away with friends and family, in boats and islands in the Mediterranean, and you’re torn between Roma, Venice and Milan, assisting in campaign photoshoots.

Your days are long, exhausting and you’re tired and wishing you could be suntanning somewhere in Greece, but you’re sitting on a train, pushing small talk with your colleagues so you won’t fall asleep and drool over yourself.

Until a notification pops up on your phone, and you drop everything you’re saying because there’s a small chance that is a photo from Carlos, or some text, or just a reminder of his existence. You mentally slap yourself. When did you get that dependent?

But it’s just an email. And it’s from your mom.

You frown.

She doesn’t usually use email. Nor is interested in art galleries in Madrid.

You read through the details and you notice something interesting. The invitation has been forwarded from none other than Carlos Sainz Sr. And it makes you laugh. You take a screenshot that you send to Carlos.

you: so, your dad's moonlighting as an art promoter now? did you fire him? hot wheels guy: seems like it. he said he was going to invite you hot wheels guy: and no, i didn’t fire him primarily because he doesn’t work for me you: well it actually does sound interesting hot wheels guy: so you’re coming? you: perhaps hot wheels guy: it’s a good chance for you to meet my sisters you: don’t you have like a dog for me to meet, too? hot wheels guy: two, piñon and oil hot wheels guy: oli is a really jealous girl. i doubt she will like you you: looking forward to meet them. and your sisters too, of course hot wheels guy: and about me? you: i already met you twice. don’t need another introdution

One week later, you’re in Madrid. Sainz Sr. arrives home while you’re talking with Reyes in the kitchen, while she cooks gazpacho for lunch. Oli is in your lap, licking your cheek as your fingers get lost in the small white waves of her fur.

“Hope you get here easily. Did you take an Uber?” Sainz says right after gracing you with a small hug and two polite kisses on the cheeks. Before paying, he also leaves a pat on Oli’s head.

“Carlos picked me up at the airport, actually.”

A pleased smile creeps across Sainz Sr.'s face, like a child in a candy shop. He glances over at Carlos, who's lounging on the couch, a few meters from you.

“She’s a guest.” He points out. You didn’t even realise he was listening to your conversation. You wonder if he was listening to what you and Reyes were saying before. “I wouldn’t have let her take an Uber.”

“You’re getting along well,” the dad points out. “Doesn’t surprise me.”

Between the art and the hushed corridors of the gallery, you often find yourselves alone. A stolen kiss in the quiet garden, where the fragrance of blooming flowers mingles with the electric charge between you. And then another, amidst the art, when the room empties and you’re left in the silence of creativity, where the only beauty that matters is reflected in the depths of his eyes.

He holds your hand and listens to your explanations about art and strokes and colour theory. And he calls you a nerd. Of course, he does. And you laugh and look at each other, and kiss again, not caring if there’s someone around.

When you come back home, his sisters and parents are still in the living room, so you sit with them, still wearing your cocktail dress and Carlos still looking gorgeous in his tuxedo. You picked up churros on your way home, so you’re just basking in the serenity and the domesticity of it all. Conversations flow effortlessly, laughter weaving through the air. You share stories, revealing snippets of your lives to his family, like they’re slowly becoming yours.

Ana. Blanca. Oli. Reyes. Carlos. And your Carlos, who looks at you with a warmth in his eyes that is capable of melting every cell of your body.

You can get used to this.

You only spend one night in Madrid. You sleep over at the Sainz’s—Reyes didn’t let you consider a hotel, so she prepared one of the guest rooms in advance. Surprisingly, it’s not the first time you and Carlos sleep under the same roof without having sex, but it’s the first time you do so in separate beds. And you feel restless. You lay in bed, your gaze fixed on the wall as if by sheer will, it will become transparent and grant you a view of him sleeping—the contours of his face softened in serenity, his lashes grazing his cheekbones.

According to Google, Autodromo Nazionale Monza is exactly 39 minutes away from your flat by car. Which isn’t a lot.

You’re not sure what to wear, or what’s exactly going to happen.

It’s Friday. It’s his birthday. He looks gorgeous in the photos that everyone is posting. You just need to get to the track, meet your parents and take your family to the garage. It’s as simple as that.

But you haven’t seen Carlos for more than a week, and the idea of finally seeing him is consuming you.

So you dump your worries in your wardrobe. You search for the few Ferrari pieces you have in your closet and you put out an outfit, and make-up and pretend you’re just going to an event you know nothing about. Because that’s almost the case.

Between the small crowd and the electric atmosphere and the midst of the symphony of roaring engines, you spot your parents and your brothers—their eyes wide with wonder. They’re donning Ferrari shirts and hats, each one with a different number on their clothes.

This blend of family and racing feels strangely comforting.

There’s a guy waiting for you by the entrance, with your passes. You follow him. He asks about the ride to the circuit, if it's your first time, and you can actually relieve some of the anticipation with that small talk. But you’re taking so long.

The corridor leading to the garages seems to stretch endlessly, each step an eternity.

"He's in the garage, preparing for the session. You'll have to be quick," the man informs you, but his words are mere background noise. All that matters is Carlos, and he's waiting. That's all you need.

Stepping into the garage, the noise amplifies. It's a chaotic dance of technicians and engineers, each absorbed in their tasks. You scan the frenetic scene, searching for him, but his absence is louder than the noise.

“Carlos must be arriving. Boys,” he drops to your brothers. “Want to see the car up close?”

Of course, they say yes, and they follow the man. Your dad tags along and your mother? Well, she’s apparently very interested in the sport, as well.

The first Sainz you see is Carlos’ cousin, to whom you’ve been not introduced yet, but who quickly recognizes you. You introduce yourself, and he chuckles and you say you’re “Carlos’ friend”. And then Sainz Sr. appears, with Carlos right beside him, talking to a tall skinny guy.

And God. He’s a vision in that damned racing suit.

Time seems to slow as he approaches, and when he turns to you, his eyes light up with a radiant smile. The world fades away.

“Happy birthday,” is all that occurs to you.

And a “thank you for being here,” is all that he can say before being dragged away to the screens.

This time it isn’t Reyes or Sainz Sr., but Carlos who invites your family for dinner. It's an offer you simply can't refuse, and even though your brothers are practically nodding off from fatigue, the moment they step inside the Hotel de la Ville, and notice where they are, exhaustion seems to magically dissipate.

The entire day was amazing, but you’ve barely had a chance to be near Carlos. So, as he finally takes his seat across from you, the desire to kiss him simmers just beneath your skin, burning you whole. He's clad in his signature red shirt, his unruly hair falling playfully over his forehead. And he’s wearing white jeans, which makes the colour of his tanned skin intensify.

Caught in the act of admiring him, you see him move his eyebrows. You roll your eyes and swiftly adjust your position in the chair, refocusing on your dads’ intense discussion about the latest football market moves.

“Piccina,” your mother chimes in. “You never told me about the Madrid trip. The gallery. Was it nice?”

You glance at your mother and then at the whole table. Carlos has that playful twinkle in his eyes, clearly anticipating to hear you stutter as you try to talk about the exhibition. Well, you did pay attention to the art, of course, but what remains in your mind is the way Carlos’ eyes always managed to drift to you, no matter which room you were in.

“It was beautiful, Mom,” you reply, offering her a warm smile. “I’ve already told Carlos how grateful I am for the invite.” At the head of the table, Sainz Sr. smiles at you, with a simple yet approving nod. “The other Carlos tagged along with me. He got to learn a lot about art. Right, junior?”

Carlos leans to you, propping his elbows on the table, a trace of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"I have to admit, you managed to make even the dullest of rooms seem interesting."

Thankfully, Sainz Sr.'s hearty laughter momentarily steals everyone's attention, giving you a chance to regain your composure. Your cheeks are warm, and from the feeling of them, you know they’re red. You managed to make even the dullest of rooms seem interesting. And he smiles, because he knows you badly you’re falling.

"Well, that's impressive,” your dad chimes.

And you're not sure if he's complimenting Carlos's smooth line or your ability to be a guide. So you ignore him and try to play it cool.

“So,” your mom continues, her hand resting on your arm, her curiosity fully piqued. "You two spent a good time together in Madrid?"

You share a subtle glance with Carlos before nodding. "Yes, we did. It was a great exhibition."

A brief hush falls over the table and you can’t help but feel like you’re under a microscope and everyone can see through you. Carlos’ gaze, steady and unwavering, is locked onto you, and you feel yourself softening, captured in his attention.

“Well,” Sainz Sr., who's been quietly observing, interjects with a warm smile. "It seems like you two have been getting along quite well."

Carlos chuckles and looks down, his fingers lightly tapping the rim of his glass. You both exchange a quick look, a silent understanding passing between you.

It’s time.

"Actually," you start, "we've been getting along really, really well."

Reyes leans in. "Oh? Do tell."

“We’ve been…” You hesitate, glancing at Carlos for support.

He meets your gaze. “Dating,” he completes your sentence with a confident smile. “We’ve been dating for a while now. Six, seven-ish months?”

Sainz Sr.’s eyes light up, and then he furrows his brows, clearly processing the information. You can’t help but chuckle as you watch the gears turning in his mind.

“That’s before—way before I… introduced you.”

“In my defence,” you chime in. “I did try to tell you we’ve already met before. Blame your son. He’s the one who decided to play with you for so long.”

“Well, this is… wonderful news.” Sainz Sr. beams. You steak a glance at Carlos, knowing he’s definitely going to tease you about how genuinely pleased you looked after revealing the truth. “So, seven months, eh? Okay. When’s the wedding? And when do I get Carlos the 3rd?”

I had so much fun writing this one!!! I used every little break at work to write this. It's a bit different than what I usually write, so all feedback is appreciated. Thank you for the request! 🫶

[ddarker-dreams]

Cherubim.

Gojo Satoru x F Reader x Geto Suguru.

Warnings: Implied trauma, Gojo and Geto are both weird + manipulative. Word count: 6k.

-Index-

March 18th, 2006. 

2:26 p.m.

-

Gojo Satoru has found himself embroiled in his greatest turmoil yet. 

Assassination attempts? That’s nothing, he’s waved those off since he was a kid. Jujutsu politics? The higher-ups can yap until they’re blue in the face; they’re all bark, no bite. Curses? Similarly inconsequential. No matter how much power they hold, they're reduced to speckled splatters the instant they cross his path. 

For most, experiencing one of these dilemmas would prove too overwhelming, much less all three. He isn’t like most, though. He’s strong. Incomprehensibly strong. He can weather any storm, shift the tides of any battle in his favor. Has this gone to his head? Absolutely. He can handle ‘too much.’ It’s ‘not enough’ that’s proving to be an issue. 

This is why he’s detailing his recent woes to an uninterested Ieri Shoko, who made the mistake of reading in the dormitory’s common area. 

The scene is as follows:

Satoru’s along the length of the couch, his long, lanky limbs dangling wherever they can. He lays his head against the armrest, snowy hair succumbing to gravity in an avalanche that frames his face. He uses his ability to keep his sunglasses from meeting the same fate. Behind the dark frames, his eyes narrow into a piercing stare. If the ceiling were sentient, it would’ve fled by now. Such is the potency of his miserable mood. 

Parallel to him sits Shoko, the fat of her cheek squished upward from resting on her fist for so long. Books, candy wrappers, and notes from last year’s curriculum yet to be thrown away litter the table’s surface. Suguru’s could put a calligraphist to shame, even if they were written in a Badtz-Maru pencil you won from a gachapon. Your notes stand out as well. They’re bright shades of your favorite colors, organized according to a system of your own devising. Occasionally, the handwriting shifts, taking on Suguru or Shoko’s likeness for trickier kanji. You doodle hearts of gratitude around the yomigana they include for good measure. 

(You complained that his handwriting was ‘indecipherable’ when he tried doing the same. Out of spite, he gave you the cold shoulder… for three minutes. He withers and wilts without your attention). 

He sighs and concludes his monologue. 

“So, that just about sums everything up. Well? What’s the prognosis, Doc?” 

“You’re in desperate need of more friends,” Shoko replies. Satoru lets out an unsatisfied grunt. “And you miss [First].” 

Satoru perks up at your mention, finally giving that poor ceiling a much-needed reprieve. He shuffles around until he’s facing Shoko. 

“But she just headed out yesterday.” 

“I know.” 

“That’d make me really weird and clingy, right?” 

“Glad you’re catching on.” 

While Satoru contemplates the previously unconsidered possibility of him being ‘really weird and clingy,’ Shoko reopens her manga. She’s of the mistaken belief that the issue has resolved itself. Unfortunately for her, the problem extends beyond Satoru’s insatiable hunger for you. The problem is Satoru himself. Until he’s running amuck elsewhere, there’ll be no solace. 

She commends herself for her patience. 

In typical Satoru fashion, he continues testing it. 

“When was the last time you updated your passport?” 

“I’m not flying to her home country with you,” Shoko shuts down what he thought was a brilliant plan. “It’s just two weeks. Wait it out.” 

“What if we fly first class?” 

“Gojo.” 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s still too soon to meet her parents. It’s gotta happen eventually though, right?” 

Shoko doesn’t dignify this with a response. 

Satoru sinks into the cushions. Could there be anything worse than boredom? He has no missions lined up, you and Suguru are visiting family, and the first-years haven’t arrived yet. Pestering Utahime has lost its charm too. He could return home before the school year starts, but he’d rather have his fingers chopped off one by one than suffer that torture. 

“Hey, Shoko.” 

“Mm.” 

“Why aren’t you back home? I thought you got along with your parents.” 

“They’re both busy. I wouldn’t see them much.” 

Satoru doesn’t press the matter. 

It does intrigue him though — the relationship sorcerers have with their non-sorcerer families. Or, to be more specific, yours and Suguru’s familial dynamics intrigue him. Satoru can’t (and doesn’t bother trying) to care for the going-ons of anyone outside his small circle. This is more the hubris of a teenager who has been told he’s special his entire life than anything malicious. To Satoru, the world’s population might as well be stuck at three. 

Regardless, it’s an improvement.

Before meeting Suguru, those in his life consisted almost exclusively of suckups or stuckups. If he was unlucky, it’d be both, rolled into one terrible package. This was his reality. Jujutsu was his reality. He was the first to possess the Limitless and the Six Eyes in generations. The Gojo clan wouldn’t waste such an extraordinary opportunity. He was their pride and joy, personality aside. 

He was born to be the strongest. 

He can’t imagine any other life for himself. 

Then there’s you. 

He could see you leading a normal life. You wouldn’t be top of the class or a varsity athlete, but you’d be well-liked. Boys would nervously ask you out on dates and buy you roses with money they got from mowing lawns. You’d be the first one your friends would call when they experienced heartache. Maybe you’d go to college or land an entry-level job. Some co-worker with a decent sense of humor would win you over. Then you’d get married, rent a property, have a few kids… 

Satoru’s stomach twists. He grimaces, shifting his thoughts elsewhere. Namely, the question that’s bothered him for a while. 

Why did you become a jujutsu sorcerer? 

It was intentional. You chose to leave behind your home, your family. You knew the risks. How the body can break and ache in ways previously unrecorded. And what do you get in return for this thankless crusade? Sleepless nights where you tremble like a leaf beside Shoko? A nimbleness at dressing wounds that could only have come from years of practice? 

You’re open about everything until you aren’t. Fear, mortality, loss — when confronted by these unsightly truths, you retreat to someplace he can’t follow. 

Satoru can’t make sense of it. Neither can Suguru. Shoko says they shouldn’t press the matter. He wants to, though. He needs to know how you break. How else can he ensure that you never will? 

He thinks back to that humid August day. The binding vow eviscerated your insides, shards from fractured bones dug into your organs. Until that point in his life, Satoru prided himself on his immunity to fear. The pathogen never lasted long in his system. After all, fear is born from a lack of control. From having something to lose. If he couldn’t lose, what was there to be afraid of? 

It’s a question he’s been avoiding. 

(“If she dies,” he told Suguru, in a voice he barely recognized as his own, “They die too.”)

His mouth feels dry, his tongue heavy. He’ll drink that tea you’re fond of later to satiate his thirst. He wonders if you share its taste.

“What’re you reading, anyway?” he asks, hoping to take his mind elsewhere.

“Fruits Basket.” 

He laughs, incredulous. 

“Seriously? Didn’t take you for a shoujo type.” 

“I borrowed it from [First]. We’re doing a book exchange over break.” 

A book exchange… three words Satoru never thought would pique his curiosity. However, anything about you demands his undying attention. Even if it’s shoujo manga. Girls who read that genre do it to project onto the heroine, right? So the love interest must have appealed to you. What tropes do you like? Do you want a shy, sensitive soul who blushes and stutters in your presence? A misunderstood bad boy who’s only soft around you? The responsible student council president? 

Oh, he’ll have so much material to tease you with when you return. He can’t wait. 

“How do I enter this exclusive book club?” Satoru demands. 

“You don’t. I don’t trust your taste,” Shoko replies, much to his chagrin. “You can still read it, though. She has all of the volumes in her room.” 

… Your room? 

He grins from ear to ear.

Should he respect your privacy? Probably. Is he going to? Of course not. He never has, there’s no point in starting now. 

This trip of yours might yet redeem itself. 

-

Along the outskirts of Jujutsu High, Geto Suguru spots an odd woman. 

She’s wearing a baggy graphic tee, low-rise jeans, and gaudy bracelets on both arms. Her black hair is tossed up, thick strands sticking in every direction. Even from this distance, he can discern the silver glint of piercings that dot her ear like constellations. The stranger stands slouched, both her hands shoved into her pockets. For her to have gotten this far, she can’t be a civilian. Those unfamiliar with jujutsu can’t find this place. 

He stays still for a spell — watching and waiting. From this distance, she shouldn’t be able to sense his presence. It’s one of the few areas he excels at over Satoru. Satoru’s cursed energy is bright, blindingly so, a thunderous clap that can be heard for miles. Suguru prefers to keep his muted. It coils around his limbs like a serpent, never straying far. This is why you had no difficulty picking out Satoru’s stupefying presence on your first day, whereas he had to make himself known to you. 

Suguru’s lips quirk up. 

He was fated to meet you. 

“Hey! Kiddo!” A deep, somewhat raspy voice exclaims. He blinks rapidly, temporarily thrown off. “This ain’t an art gallery. What’s with the staring?” 

She noticed him? How? 

When the stranger starts slinking his way, he regains his composure. 

“I apologize. It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable,” Suguru’s cadence flows smoother than a river. 

“Hah! ‘Uncomfortable?’ That’s a way of putting it,” she pokes the space beneath her emerald eyes twice. “Even now, I can feel ya picking me apart. Shit’s creepy.” 

His smile tightens. “I’ll be more mindful of my conduct in the future, then.” 

She waves him off. Her golden bracelets clink together as she does so, the sound grating his ears. 

“That’s a lie if I ever heard one. And I should know. Schemers excel at picking out their brothers in arms,” she juts her head up, giving the impression that she’s the one looking down on him, despite the slight height difference. 

“Anyhow, by the looks of it, you must be Sugu-kun.” 

… Did she just call him Sugu-kun? 

“What? Too soon* to be calling you that? Heh, heh…” 

Suguru’s smile tightens. “You can refer to me however you like, so long as I can return the favor.” 

She guffaws.

“Maaan, Goldie sure was gracious in her description of you,” the woman gives him a lopsided grin. “Name’s Akane. There — is the playing field leveled now?” 

“Ishimoto Akane?”

He doesn’t miss the way she winces as her surname is spoken aloud, rather pointedly at that. 

“Ah. S’pose I had that coming.” 

Suguru decides against prolonging her torment. He’s in a generous mood, it isn’t every day he has a chance to learn more about you. This is an opportunity he’ll take full advantage of. 

“And I presume 'Goldie' is [First]?” 

He makes a mental note to figure out the wordplay for your nickname later. 

“Full marks.”

Suguru hums, a sound indicating that he’s drifting deep into thought. 

You don’t mention your mentor often. When you do, it’s normally in the form of endearing (if not mildly concerning) anecdotes.

“She told me that natto is bits of caramel held together by melted marshmallows, like a Rice Krispy Treat. It… it was not like a Rice Krispy Treat…” 

“... For my twelfth birthday, she got me Pokemon Ruby. I remember crying because Roxeanne’s Nosepass took out my Torchic. My cursed energy spiked and the party had to end early…” 

“... Out of curiosity, I drank her stash of Georgia canned coffee. My heart rate was almost high enough to warrant a trip to the ER…” 

Getting anything else relating to her out of you was like trying to wring water from a rock. Suguru didn’t miss the wistful melancholy underpinning your stories. You recalled them with a far-off expression as if mourning that those days of whimsy were over. Initially, he considered it a consequence of growing up. Childhood idols rarely remain highly esteemed as the years pass and maturity accrues. 

His intuition argued that he should examine the issue closer.

(“I met her, y’know,” Satoru mentioned whilst he spun in a rolling chair ‘commandeered’ from Yaga. “Akane. Our girl’s mentor. Former mentor? Whatever the case is.” 

Suguru sat his pencil aside, any investment in his studies gone.

“When?” 

“Last March.” 

Suguru sighed. “And you didn’t bring this up earlier because…?” 

There’s a twinkle in his companion’s sunglasses-covered eyes.

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” Satoru shrugged. 

Liar, Suguru thought, unamused by Satoru’s faux nonchalance. He must’ve had his reasons for neglecting to mention it for so long. Suguru figured your impending trip home had something to do with Satoru’s ‘miraculously’ cured amnesia. 

“What? Don’t tell me you aren’t curious.”

The provocation failed to irk him. Instead, Suguru refocused the conversation.“Tell me your impression of her.”

Satoru stilled, threw his feet atop Suguru’s desk, and placed his hands on his neck. “About what you’d expect from a disgraced daughter of an influential clan. Bad-tempered, tattooed, pierced up… hah! Bet her old man would go into cardiac arrest if he saw her.” 

“Satoru,” he implored. 

“Fine, fine. So impatient,” The white-haired sorcerer complained. “I misread her. She got all mopey after she fessed up about Cursed Technique: Null. I wrote it off as envy. The student exceeding the master, or whatever.” 

Satoru remained silent for a moment. “Post Kaizu, though, I assume the feeling actually gnawing at her… ” 

Kaizu. 

Panicked phone calls. Satoru’s agitated exclamations. His horrified silence. Your breathing faded, theirs accelerated. You looked so small. So human. He scarcely believed the limp girl cradled in his arms just executed such a devastating maneuver. Your cursed energy had exceeded any output he’d felt from you before. It was too much, your body wasn’t ready to endure a spike like that. 

Suguru had never felt so distant from the title ‘strongest.’

At some point later on, in a hospital waiting room, Suguru posed a question. 

Satoru heard him yet offered no response.

“Who taught her how to do that?”

“... was guilt.”)

“You didn’t visit her.” 

Akane blinks. 

“Hah?” 

“You didn’t visit her,” Suguru repeats, his tone firmer. “[First]. Your student.” 

She exhales shakily. Suguru thinks she looks tired. 

“If you have something to say, just come out with it already.” 

He was prepared to wear her down for hours — this willing cooperation saves him time. Although, it doesn’t make navigating the volatile minefield that lies ahead any easier. He knows how to rein Satoru in when he’s going too far. He can fluster you without giving too much of himself away. After rescuing someone from a curse, he knows the exact pitch, timbre, and tempo necessary to pierce through their abject horror. He’s a virtuoso at playing people, a conductor hidden amidst the audience. 

Deceit. Misdirection. Coercion. 

His repertoire is expansive and ever-growing. 

From what he can see — what he can feel — the prodigal daughter before him boasts a similar discography. She returns his unflinching eye contact as if issuing a challenge. Daring him to use dubious methods that might work on anyone else. This obstinate resolve reminds him of you. Once you’ve determined your course, even he struggles to change the route.

He abandons all pretense. 

“You didn’t want her here,” he theorizes. Akane’s face reveals nothing. “You knew something like that was bound to happen.” 

Sorcerers aren’t only at war with curses. No, there’s an inner battle that must be fought as well. The recognition that the next assignment could be your last. And if it is, you won’t be commemorated by the masses; to them, you don’t exist. Your sacrifice will be known to a select few who mourn you, or  a few who don’t. Everything could go right. Everything could go wrong. Engaging in that high risk for such a low reward goes against one’s self-preservation instincts.

How each sorcerer handles this fight is unique to them. 

As for your strategy — you refuse to acknowledge this conflict exists. 

Paradoxically enough, that functions as your self-preservation. 

Akane smiles thinly. She’s almost his reflection, in that regard.

“Full marks.” 

-

Suguru idly observes as Satoru paces back and forth, his troubled figure illuminated by a row of vending machines. 

A nearby street lamp flickers. It’s late, but the local convenience stores glow with artificial light, tempting customers to come inside. Some are weary salarymen grabbing ready-made meals, others are middle schoolers clinking their change together, praying they can afford a sugary treat. The latest group cheers, indicating their triumph. 

The duo receives odd looks — thanks to their school uniforms, no doubt — not that they pay the judgment any mind. No one troubles them. Not even a wandering policeman, who, under normal circumstances, would scold minors out by themselves at night. 

Suguru theorizes that Satoru’s ominous aura is what subconsciously repels them. 

Earlier today, Suguru bid farewell to his parents and boarded a train for Tokyo. As nice as it was to spend time with his family, he’d been looking forward to reuniting with you and Satoru. He amassed quite the phone bill thanks to your frequent correspondence. Nonetheless, he carried the minor debt with pride; it’s a sign you often thought about him. He planned for Satoru to assume the debt by dangling the pictures you sent his way as ransom. 

His encounter with Ishimoto Akane grounded his soaring mood. This was made worse when he entered the dormitory, only to find a tight-lipped Shoko and agitated Satoru. 

Shoko remarked that unlike the two of them, she’d be handling things with ‘tact,’ and retired for the evening, not wanting to catch their ‘stupidity contagion.’ 

It’d been hours since then. That time stretch brought them closer to revealing the complete picture, but a few pieces remained missing or incomplete. 

The frenetic sorcerer stills and rummages around in his pocket.

Suguru takes the opportunity to break the silence. “I—” 

He cuts himself off as Satoru whips out a familiar-looking chapstick. The cutesy design befitting your aesthetic stands out like a sore thumb in Satoru’s large, calloused hands. 

“... Where did you get that?” 

“[First]’s room,” is Satoru’s response, spoken nonchalantly whilst applying it to his lips. “Why?” 

Suguru snorts. Sometimes Satoru’s ungodly strength blinds him to the fact that he’s still a teenage boy. 

“Won’t she notice it’s missing?” 

“I replaced it.” 

“Ah.”

“She has plenty more in the drawer beneath her vanity if you want one.” 

Suguru knows the exact spot Satoru’s referring to. They both helped you assemble it (Satoru got bored fifteen minutes in and fell asleep on your bed but still claims credit). 

After noting this suggestion, he asks, “Have you calmed down?” 

Satoru barks out a ‘hah!’ as if he’d just heard a hilarious joke. “Me? Shouldn’t I be askin’ you that?” 

Suguru massages his temples, sensing the looming headache that awaits him. “Satoru…” 

“We could follow her residuals, you know,” Satoru suggests. He tips his sunglasses down, revealing eyes that gleam with predatory intent. “With the Six Eyes, it’d be a walk in the park.” 

“And then what?” 

“Oh, you know, chat about the weather, latest political scandals, that sort of thing.” 

“You can’t strong-arm yourself through everything in life, Satoru,” Suguru chastises. 

Satoru opens and closes his lips. He folds his arms, scrunches his eyebrows together, and rapidly taps his foot. The shift puts Suguru at ease. Satoru adopts this countenance on the rare occurrence he’s faced with a formidable threat. The serious, almost somber visage speaks to his ironclad resolve. Suguru may have told his companion that he can’t strong-arm himself through everything, but that’s a half-truth; the Gojo clan’s pride can do whatever he pleases. 

It’s consideration of the aftermath that Suguru wishes to instill in his companion. Tempering the arrogance of a God is no easy feat. 

“... She isn’t going anywhere,” Satoru declares, as if any other outcome was blasphemous. 

“She isn’t,” Suguru agrees. Then, he lowers his voice, adding, “We can’t disregard what Ishimoto-san is getting at, though.” 

“Simple — all our girl needs is a good ol’ fashioned intervention.” 

“An ‘intervention,’” Suguru deadpans. “Didn’t you already try that?” 

Satoru smiles in a way Suguru can only describe as dopey, reminiscing on the night you got ‘mad at him for wanting you to be mad at him.’ That’s how Suguru interpreted the detailed account Satoru gave the next morning, anyway. 

(“I wish she would’ve cried, just a little bit; it would’ve made her look extra cute,” Satoru cooed, to which Suguru shot him an exasperated look. “Oh, don’t act so high and mighty. You’d make her cry just so you could wipe her tears away.”)

Suguru shakes his head. “Here’s what I think — the self-sacrifice in and of itself isn’t the problem. Well, the main problem. There has to be a reason, something personal… identifying that takes priority.” 

A gust rips through the narrow street, howling as it terrorizes store signs and doors with weak hinges. The two strongest sorcerers remain oblivious to the drift. What occupies their mind is greater than any force of nature, insignificant or otherwise. They have the means to challenge natural phenomena itself. And they would, should they deem it an obstacle to their goals. This single-minded determination is what elevates them beyond the rest. 

“I guess the old man has a soft spot for us after all,” Satoru says, referring to Yaga, Suguru guesses.

Breathlessly, he chuckles. “Maybe.” 

Studying Satoru from his peripherals, he silently mulls over the far likelier reality—  

—that Yaga understands Satoru’s potential for saving this world is matched only by his capacity to condemn it. 

-

From a young age, Ieri Shoko found irony everywhere she looked.

It’s prevalent in the medical field she wishes to pursue. When stabbed, it’s better to leave the knife in than immediately pull it out. For an immune system to better defend itself from a virus, it must first be exposed to it in trace amounts. If an appendage becomes too infected, removing that piece of the body is better than keeping it whole. It was you who pointed out this theme extends into the world of jujutsu. 

“You’d think fighting to survive a curse instead of defeating it would be an okay alternative, right?” You had said. “But really… that just means someone else gets to foot the bill. All ‘cause you cheaped out.” 

She regrets not asking you to elaborate. At the time, the observation felt so personal, so intimately interwoven with who you are, that she thought it best to leave it alone. 

Watching you now, lounging on the swing beside her, she’s determined not to repeat her previous mistake. 

“Tired?” 

“Well, yeah,” you laugh. It sounds off. “I wasn’t meant for long flights. It takes everything out of me, y’know?” 

Shoko unsuccessfully digs around her pocket for a lighter. The search ceases when she recalls its inopportune location — left behind in her dorm room in the rush to be the one who reaches you first. Not sure what else to do with her hands, she folds them onto her lap. Meanwhile, you pick at a stray thread on your jeans. 

“I didn’t mean from traveling,” she clarifies. 

“Hm?” 

“How many curses did you exorcise back home?” 

Your fingers go still.

“I dunno… a few?” You shrug, stuffing your hands in your pockets. “If I happen across them, I’m not gonna just let them run amuck. That’d be irresponsible.” 

Your nonchalance comes across as forced. You may be keeping your words lighthearted, but she can tell you’ve dialed up your senses, monitoring her closely. It reminds her of a cornered mouse. It’s then that any lingering doubt over her choices leading up to this moment dispels. Resolve strengthened, she swears to make as much progress as she possible before those two catch on. She felt a bit bad lying about your flight’s time, but felt the situation justified the call. 

“It feels different when they’re close to home, doesn’t it?” 

Shoko’s eyes scan over the lively park before them. There’s a group of children playing with one another, some scouring the grass for bugs and others playing tag. Their guardians watch from a distance, chatting amongst themselves, likely discussing the upcoming poor weather or latest neighborhood scandals. Young couples walk hand in hand along the pathways, cheeks flushed from the joy of experiencing their first love. 

“Encountering a curse is draining. Fighting them, even more so. But when they’re on a street you walk every day, or a few blocks over from your house, you can’t help but start thinking. ‘What if I hadn’t come this way? Would it have hurt people I know? People I love and care about?’”

Her eyes find yours. “‘What if it killed them?’”

You look like you’re going to be sick. 

She ignores how your expression contorts her stomach and continues. “Sorcerers are in the minority, it’s true. So… fighting to survive isn’t selfish. It’s strategic.”

In the distance, the rough silhouette of two individuals grows clearer. The spotlight she commandeered grows fainter with their every step. In what remains of the fading limelight, she considers you. The CC cream that conceals the worst of your exhaustion, how your pupils dilate from high caffeine intake, then your fingers. The keys that when steepled just so, open the future for others at the cost of permanently locking yours. 

She reaches over and gently squeezes your hand. 

“Remember — we won’t be much help to anyone if we’re six feet under. So let’s aim to stay above ground.” 

-

The evening sun sinks into the horizon, demanding acknowledgment in its final moments by dousing all in a fiery hue. 

Your uniform absorbs the brunt of this last stand. The dark fabric devours the waning sunlight, heating you from head to toe. It didn’t fully occur to you that you were back when you walked through the torii gates lining the mountainous path. Nor when you unpacked in your dorm, stuffing your passport away until your next break, where it’ll serve you faithfully again. 

Instead, it was the simple act of putting your uniform on again that made home seem far, far away. 

You’d gotten used to your clothes smelling like your mother’s preferred detergent. It’s a brand you couldn’t find in Japan, sold exclusively in your home country. You wondered what meal your parents were having when you straightened out your collar. If your neighbor ever fixed that rumble their old sedan huffed out as you slipped into your tights. Whether your grandpa knew you’d landed safely when you brushed lint off your skirt. 

The campus atmosphere is serene. Tengen’s barrier is a bulwark against curses, insulating you from any potential threats. Without this assurance, some part of you was always on the defensive, anticipating anything when you slept in your childhood bedroom. It siphoned away your vitality, just like Shoko pointed out. 

You sniffle and kick a rock aside. 

How does it always end up like this?

First Akane, now Shoko, you hug yourself. I just want to protect others. What’s so wrong with that? If I don’t, then who will?

You pause abruptly. 

When Akane began mentoring you, the world as you knew it changed. Suddenly, you were given knowledge no one else was privy to, for they lacked the tools to comprehend it. You’d seen those ‘creatures’, but it was Akane that explained their malevolent nature. What they could do, the pain they inflicted, how defenseless the population at large was against them. 

The shadow that this monstrous threat cast could never be outshone by light. The best you could do was create safe pockets the size of pins in the darkness. That was the extent of your hope, the most bitter pill you’ve ever swallowed.

The lingering specter of Shoko’s reassuring touch prickles along your hand. 

It’s easy to forget you’re not alone anymore after fighting by yourself for so long. 

-

Eventually, you happen upon a clearing near the school’s main grounds. 

The steep inclines surround a sizable outdoor track. This area is known colloquially as the school’s training grounds. You prefer to train in a more secluded, wooded area, but not everyone shares your enthusiasm for subtlety. Namely, the two prodigies who have turned the field into a colosseum that’d rival the battles of ancient Rome. 

You take a seat on the grassy hill and watch what unfolds. 

Your eyes can scarcely follow the blows Suguru and Satoru exchange. Their sparring sessions are unreal — blurring the very fabric of reality. Somehow, they manage all this without using cursed energy. The spectacle you’re witnessing is simply hand-to-hand combat. It’s like watching a film with skipping frames. In a matter of seconds, they can travel a hundred meters and return to their original position. Your brain struggles to process the stimuli your senses are feeding it. 

They were already strong when you met them. But now? The nomenclature doesn’t exist to properly classify them. 

And in the future… 

There’s no telling what highs they’ll reach or the ceilings they’ll shatter. 

Their light is the most dazzling you’ve ever seen.

Within a few minutes, they conclude their training session. Satoru instantly beelines toward you, whereas Suguru cycles through stretches. There’s not even a single drop of sweat on Satoru’s body as he plops to your right. He’s wearing his signature sunglasses, despite the night's looming shadow. 

“Shouldn’t you be asleep or something?” Satoru asks. “It’s past your bedtime.”

You punch him lightly on the shoulder. He yelps out an exaggerated ‘ouch!’ rubbing the area to soothe the nonexistent wound. 

Suguru approaches at a far more leisurely pace, sending a wave that you return in kind. 

Satoru, not one to be forgotten, yells out, “Be careful, Suguru! She’s violent!” 

“Only against those who deserve it,” Suguru replies.

Fondness blossoms inside your chest as you laugh. You’d forgotten how simple life feels around them. It’s as if when the three of you are together, you’re swallowed by a pocket dimension, isolated from everyone and everything. Permanently inhabiting this utopia is a temptation. 

Satoru places his hands behind his head and lays onto the ground. “Here I am, potentially out of commission forever, without a single ounce of sympathy to show for it.” 

“We could always settle in court,” you offer. 

Suguru stands before you, hands on his hips. “Or he could finally figure out how to use reverse cursed technique.” 

At this, Satoru shoots back up, his sunglasses falling askew. “Hah? Last I recall, you gave yourself a headache giving it a go. At least I’m not that bad.” 

“Hurdles are necessary to improve. Without any, how do you know you’re truly making progress?” 

Satoru gives him a grossed-out look. “All this philosophizing is gonna turn your hair gray before you hit twenty.” 

“That’s rich, coming from the guy whose hair is already white,” You point out. “What’s that say about you?” 

Suguru muffles his laughter behind his hand. 

Satoru’s quick to overcome his incredulity. “It says that I’m going to spoil the next volume of Inuyasha. Sesshomaru—” 

You cover your ears and sprint off. “Can’t hear you, can’t hear you, can’t hear you…!” 

He chases after you, periodically shouting the names of the main characters right when you think he’s finished. You do your best to block out his voice, running like your life depends on it. He’s hot on your heels, cackling at your expense. After a stretch of silence, you uncover your ears, hesitantly turning around to check if he’s finished his torture. 

You meet Satoru’s gaze. His lips are parted, his eyebrows slightly raised. Your reflection in his dark lenses appears equally perplexed. He straightens his sunglasses and regards you with an unreadable expression. 

“... You’ve gotten faster.” 

The comment is so quiet, you’re unsure if you heard him correctly. 

“Hm?” 

“Nothing,” he dismisses, waving you off. “You shoujo-loving types sure take this stuff seriously. It’s almost cultish.” 

“I don’t wanna hear that from the guy who references Digimon like it’s some sorta scripture!” 

“Honda Tohru is a lame heroine.” 

You audibly gasp. “Wh— you take that back!” 

And so it’s your turn to chase Satoru, who, for reasons unknown, is oddly knowledgeable regarding Fruits Basket. 

-

“Could you guys be honest with me about something?” 

“All depends.” 

“Of course.” 

Satoru and Suguru’s responses come out simultaneously, the contents offering little reassurance. You’re not sure what you expected. Nonetheless, you press past the gnawing discomfort, your conversation with Shoko a fresh memory. 

“Did Akane stop by while I was gone?” 

You scrutinize their countenances for involuntary reactions that might betray their inner thoughts. You begin with Satoru, who was in the middle of cleaning his sunglasses when you posed the question. His eyes, which normally brim with mischief, have an eerie calmness about them; like sheets of ice that were once choppy waters. He smiles softly and slips his lenses back into place, undoubtedly aware of the intent behind your stare. 

Then there’s Suguru. He hums, as if finding your inquiry unexpected and not an inevitable point of contention. He’s a more challenging puzzle to decipher than Satoru. With the latter, you can roughly gauge the greater picture, blurry and incomplete as it may be. Suguru, on the other hand, hasn’t given you enough pieces to attempt a solution. 

Satoru continues mulling over your question while Suguru responds, “Is that what’s been worrying you lately?” 

So they picked up on it too, you think. 

Frowning, you shift in your seat. Blades of grass tickle your thighs and you push your skirt down. 

“Er… not that, specifically,” you admit. You feel like you’re surrounded by walls that know just how far to close in to give the impression you might be crushed. “I just… I’ve been thinking. About why I’m here— what I’ll go on to do. And, well…” 

Much to their surprise, you stand, squeeze your eyes shut, and bow ninety degrees. 

“For so long, I’ve carried this burden. The truth is, when I first learned about Null, I was relieved. I’d always have something to rely on in the worst-case scenario. But at the same time… that meant not using it could also be a mistake. You have no idea how much that scared me.” 

You curl your hands up into fists. “I don’t want to think that way anymore. I see it now — have for a while, actually — strength I couldn’t even imagine before. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’m in your care. If it’s alright, I want to rely on others, starting with you two.” 

Your heart pounds wildly in the silence that follows. 

Maybe this is selfish too, you think. But I don’t want to be alone anymore. 

You hear Suguru speak your name. It isn’t until he repeats it, his tone kind yet firm, that you straighten yourself and face him. 

Satoru stands further back, scratching his neck. Much to your confusion, a red flush has risen to his cheeks, extending up to his ears. Suguru corrects your staring by taking your face in his hands and redirecting your attention to him. Warmth envelops you. Your faces are inches apart, but somehow, the distance feels nonexistent, like he’s peering into your mind unhindered. 

“Surely, you can dream bigger than that,” Suguru chastises.

“... Eh?” 

“Do you think so little of us?” Satoru grumbles. It almost sounds like he’s pouting. Was he not listening to anything you just said? The sincerity behind your every word? Why are they both acting like you insulted them? 

“Eh?!” 

“I’m glad you’ve come to this realization, but… you don’t have to rely on anyone else. Just us,” Suguru takes a step back, though he keeps one hand cupping your cheek. You feel lightheaded. “After all…” 

“... We’re the strongest.” 

notes:

*this pun actually works decently in english ?? but akane is making a reference to how suguru sounds phonetically similar to すぐ, or sugu, which means 'soon.'

[wifeyoozi]

all the ways jihoon kisses you

1. Soft Kisses: Jihoon has a really sweet side, especially when he's feeling particularly affectionate. These kisses are tender, with his lips barely brushing against yours. He often gives these kisses when he's trying to comfort you or when you're cuddling on the couch after a long day. They convey his deep care and love for you.

2. Passionate Kisses: When Jihoon is feeling a surge of strong emotions, his kisses become more fervent. These kisses are intense, leaving you both breathless. His hands might cup your face, pulling you closer as if he's afraid to let you go. These happen in moments of reunion after being apart, or when he's overwhelmed by his feelings for you.

3. Playful Kisses: Jihoon has a playful side that comes out when he's in a lighthearted mood. He'll pepper your face with quick, playful pecks, making you giggle. Sometimes, he'll pull away just as you're about to kiss him back, grinning at your frustrated expression before finally giving in and kissing you properly.

4. Forehead Kisses: These kisses are Jihoon's way of showing his protective and caring nature. He'll press a gentle kiss to your forehead, usually when you're in his arms or when he's trying to reassure you. It's a silent promise that he's always there for you, no matter what. It's also his fav place to kiss because it makes him feel happy to make you feel safe with him. It's also his way of being intimate without really getting intimate.

5. Cheek Kisses: Cheek kisses from Jihoon are casual yet endearing. He often gives these when he's busy with something but still wants to show his affection. A quick peck on the cheek while he's working in the studio or before he leaves for an event. It's his way of saying he loves you and remembers you even when he's busy with schedules.

6. Neck Kisses: When Jihoon is feeling particularly romantic or when he wants to show a bit more intimacy, he'll trail soft kisses along your neck. These kisses send shivers down your spine and often lead to more passionate moments. He loves hearing your breath hitch and feeling your pulse quicken under his lips. If he's feeling playful, he'll tickle you where he knows it tickets with his tongue just to hear your pretty laugh.

7. Goodbye Kisses: Jihoon hates saying goodbye, even if it's just for a short while. His goodbye kisses are a mix of longing and reassurance. He'll hold you close, kissing you deeply as if he's trying to memorize the feel of your lips until he sees you again. There's always a promise in these kisses – that he'll come back to you soon. He'll always be leaning his forehead against yours as he pouts about having to go on yet another tour.

8. Morning Kisses: Waking up next to Jihoon means starting your day with a soft, sleepy kiss. These kisses are slow and lazy, full of warmth as he wakes up beside you. He loves kissing you good morning, letting you know that he cherishes waking up with you every day.

9. Apology Kisses: When Jihoon feels he's wronged you, his kisses become softer and more tentative. He'll hold your face gently, his lips brushing against yours in silent apology. He might whisper words of remorse between kisses, trying to make up for any hurt he caused. These kisses are filled with sincerity and a promise to do better. 

10. Spontaneous Kisses: Jihoon sometimes kisses you out of the blue, surprising you with his spontaneity. Whether you're cooking, reading, or simply walking together, he'll lean in for a quick kiss, a playful grin on his face. These kisses remind you of how much he loves you, even in the most ordinary moments.

12. Shoulder kisses: Jihoon kisses your shoulders when he's feeling particularly affectionate, especially during cuddling sessions. If you're sitting together, he might lean over and press soft kisses to your bare shoulders, making you feel adored and appreciated. It's an intimate gesture that conveys his love in a subtle yet powerful way.

11. Hand kisses: When Jihoon kisses your hands, it's a gesture of admiration and respect. He might kiss your knuckles softly when holding your hand, making you feel like the most important person in his life. During quiet, tender moments, he might lift your hand to his lips and press a gentle kiss to your palm, showing his deep affection and appreciation for you. He even kisses your inner wrist sometimes, a very intimate spots that make you feel all tingly and loved

14. Back and nape kisses: When you're lying together or he's hugging you from behind, Jihoon loves pressing soft kisses along your back or on your nape. It's an intimate gesture that makes you feel incredibly close to him. He might trail kisses from your shoulders down to your lower back, his lips barely brushing your skin, creating a sense of deep connection and warmth. When he's hugging you from the back, he'll push your hair to the side and kiss you there tenderly.

15. Ear kisses: Jihoon sometimes kisses your ears, especially the lobes, when he wants to whisper sweet nothings or playful remarks. These kisses are often ticklish and send tingles down your spine. He might gently nibble on your earlobe before whispering something that makes you blush, adding a playful and intimate touch to your interactions.

16. Stomach/belly kisses: When you're lying down together, Jihoon loves pressing soft kisses to your stomach. It's a gesture of tenderness and love, showing how much he adores every part of you. He might trace gentle patterns with his lips, making you feel a mix of ticklish delight and deep affection. You'd never feel insecure about your body around him, he'll make sure of that.

17. Thigh kisses: these ones are obviously naughty ones. Mostly happens during foreplay, during or before he eats you out or fingers you. Sometimes, he'll kiss your thighs during aftercare as he cleans you up. He cannot hold it back when he sees your tender blushed thighs.

18. Ankle kisses: this could be both soft or naughty. When he's fucking you in missionary, he loves to kiss your ankles and calves as he hooks your legs over his shoulder. Alternatively, if you two are chilling in the couch while watching a movie maybe, he'll hold your legs in his lap, subconsciously yet tenderly rubbing your feet and ankles and occasionally bringing it to his mouth to land a soft peck.

19.Eyelid Kisses (?): Jihoon sometimes kisses your closed eyelids, especially when he’s feeling tender and affectionate. These kisses are soft and gentle, often given as a reassurance or a sign of deep emotional connection. He might do this when you’re feeling tired or overwhelmed, using the kiss as a way to soothe and comfort you. Sometimes he kisses your eyelids when you are sleeping soundly and Jihoon finds the sight really endearing and cute.

20. Making out : Jihoon loves making out with you every once in a while to make up for the time he was apart from you. Usually has you straddle him on his lap as he kisses you tenderly. He'll rub his hand along your thigh, pulling you closer by your waist. Make outs with jihoon are usually slow because he really wanna enjoy every moment of it, yet sensual. He uses a lot more tongue and also likes to bite sometimes. You're lips are sure to be swollen by the time your make out sesh ends.

[nanpecan]

₊✩‧₊˚once more to see you˚₊✩‧₊ pt 2

{nanami x f!reader}

pt 1. pt 3. pt 4. pt 5.

˚₊✩‧₊summary: You're a manager at Jujutsu Kaisen and things got a little steamy with Nanami in the car after a mission. Now you're left wondering what's going to happen between you.

˚₊✩‧₊tags: nanami x fem!reader, slight angst, explicit smut (mdni) !!

˚₊✩‧₊ word count: 8.6k (I GOT CARRIED AWAY WRITING THIS OKAY)

˚₊✩‧₊author's note: i didn't expect to get so many of ya'll asking for a part 2 but thank you for the kind messages! this one is a bit longer and has mostly backstory stuff and angst in a stupid will they won't they sort of way. idk i think i was in a mood writing this. but i promise there is a little bit of something at the end *wink wink*

˚₊✩‧₊if chapter one was this Mitski song, chapter two is this one, iykyk

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You woke up with a start as the sound of a car door closing rang in your ears. You slowly opened your eyes and looked around confused. You sat up quickly, forgetting where you were for a minute. You groaned as you felt a sore sensation in your lower abdomen and you looked down. You noticed a tan suit jacket draped across your body as a makeshift blanket, covering your exposed chest and stomach. Your underwear was on, and you realized that the white fabric you were sitting on was the shirt you had been wearing. 

You felt your face go hot as you started to think back over what had happened. You had slept with him. Your hands covered your cheeks as you felt them go red. You had really slept with him. Memories flashed in your mind, his body on yours, his hands on your body, the ungodly noises he let out- the ones you had let out. 

You took a deep breath trying to control the blood rushing to your face and looked out the car window. You noticed Nanami had driven somewhere, but why? It was a pharmacy. One of the special pharmacies that partnered with the school to bypass prescriptions. 

A man walked in front of the car and you jumped to cover yourself. He looked in, but he seemed to look past you. There was a small barrier. You sighed in relief. Thank god Nanami was a forward thinker. 

You suddenly saw the pharmacy door swing open and Nanami walk out with a small white bag. His hair was down but pushed back, his glasses back on and his blue shirt untucked, probably to cover the stain you had left on his pants. You were a bit taken aback, he looked tastefully disheveled…handsome. He went up to the car and sat into the driver's seat. He looked back at you. “Ah, you’re awake.” 

You nodded. “Where are we?” 

“I stopped by to get you a couple of things. My apologies if I closed the car door too hard.” He reached over to the passenger's seat and grabbed a brown paper bag. He passed it over and you, a little confused, pulled out a T-shirt that said “I ❤️ Tokyo”. 

“I apologize for tearing your blouse. If you send me your measurements I can get you a new one, for now-“ you started to put the shirt on and he went silent as he watched you. You pulled your head through the top and blushed as you noticed his gaze. 

“Thank you.” He nodded and passed you a water bottle. 

“I also got you some pain relief from the pharmacy, I’m afraid I might have been too rough on you.” He grimaced. “I shouldn’t have let myself get so carried away, I apologize.” 

“No, no,” you waved your hands and gave him two thumbs up. “It was fine.” You dropped your hands, embarrassed for a moment, you had picked up the habit of doing that from Akari. That reminded you. “Have…you seen my phone?” 

“Yes, Akari had been trying to reach you. I answered and let her know you were okay, just…feeling under the weather.” He passed you your phone and you unlocked it to check the 6 missed messages and 3 missed calls from Akari. 

-SEX WHAT??

You frowned as you realized you had accidentally sent the unfinished text.

-hello? 

   Ten minutes later

-hey can you answer me I’m starting to get worried  -Y/N I’m serious, please answer my calls  -I’m going to call Nanami if you don’t pick up this next call 

Two minutes later

-call me as back as soon as you can please

You frowned, what were you gonna tell her? 

“I told her you were suddenly sick, so we stopped somewhere to rest.” 

“Thank you.” You couldn’t figure out his tone. He was helping you out, but also covering for himself. Was he doing it out of respect, or…

“I also bought this for you.” He seemed nervous as he reached into the white bag. You looked at what he handed you. You stifled a laugh. It was an emergency contraceptive. “I’m not sure what you might already do, but just in case.” He stared at the box. “I hope this doesn’t offend you. I just figured, you’re young and wouldn’t want…well a surprise, if you will.” He looked back up at you. “Unless you do, I’m not trying to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do, it’s just in case… I thought I’d give you the choice, please don’t be influenced by what I’m saying… I’m sorry, I-“ 

You laughed at him and he shut up. “Don’t worry. You’re right, I don’t want a baby right now. I appreciate it.” You stared at the box. “You’re really charming when you’re flustered.” You looked up at him, but he had no reaction. He just nodded once. You looked back down, sort of disappointed. 

You both began to speak at the same time and stopped. “Go ahead.” He said. 

“Sorry, I was just going to say that I should drive you back. I can go ahead and drop you off at your place. I just need to drop off the vehicle and no one will question if I come back alone as long as you’ve already checked back in.” 

He stared at your shirt. “I should have bought you a better shirt.” 

You smiled and shook your head. “I have a lot of shirts like this, it’s perfect.” You quickly reached for your pants and struggled a little to put them back on. Nanami just watched.  You finally pulled them up and tucked your shirt in a little. You looked back up at him, you caught yourself giving him a thumbs up and stopped. “It’s past 6 so Akari will be the only one to see me since everyone else will have gone home for the day. She won’t even think twice.” His brows moved like he was thinking of something. “Oh, thank you by the way..for cleaning me up.” You handed him back his suit jacket. You picked up his tie and his suspenders and put them in the brown bag. You attempted to pick up his blunt sword but hesitated to touch it. “The building was destroyed…what happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

Nanami shrugged slightly. “It was only a Grade 2 curse. She could speak some, but she was sometimes incoherent.” He sighed, “It was a very tragic situation she was born from. So I figured I’d destroy the place.” 

“He might not pay you.” 

Nanami shook his head. “Mei Mei set up the mission, she’ll get her money no matter what.” He sighed. “Either way I don’t care.” 

That’s right, Nanami was infamous for not caring about the outcome of missions. At least nothing past the defeat of the curse. He didn’t really care for the politics of defeating one curse but letting another go, or the idea of the clans deciding the codes sorcerers should follow.  

“It’s late…” He said, breaking the silence. 

“I should drive you back.” You started to move and winced a little. 

“I’ll drive to my place and then you can take the car back, rest some more.” 

“Thank you.” You smiled at him, but he just turned back to turn on the car. 

You sat in silence all the way back, thinking. You looked at your phone and shot Akari a text. 

-feeling better, I’m so sorry. dropping off nanami and then heading to the school. 

You closed your eyes and sighed. You had just fucked the man you’d been dreaming about for months and now you were…unsatisfied? No, you had a great time. You snuck a glance at him through the rear view mirror. Did he not have a good time? He was being cold again. No, you were reading too much into it. The curse had influenced him to do it, it could have happened with anyone. Your stomach dropped at the realization. 

It could have happened to anyone. 

Akari was originally supposed to go, if she hadn’t offered you the chance this would be her. Would he have been more talkative with her? People seemed to trust her more, maybe he would be more open. Also, he had said that Mei Mei had set up the mission. Why was he the one that went instead? Had he volunteered? He’d been briefed about the mission so he knew what he’d be facing. He probably thought he wouldn’t be affected. You thought he wouldn’t be affected. But what if…you stopped yourself. You were reading way too much into it. There was no way to know if Nanami had volunteered just to sleep with Akari, but he had gotten you instead. 

You forced yourself to stop thinking about it. You were hurting your own feelings over something you had no proof of. But the fact of the matter was, it could have been anyone driving him. You weren’t special to him. If anything, you gave in easily. A feeling of regret began to wash over you. He probably thought you were so stupid and easy. No, you told yourself, he isn’t like that. But there was no way to really know. The car slowed down as he pulled in front of a tall building. 

“Would you like to come in?” Nanami asked. 

“No, it’s getting late, you should get home and rest too. Today was…interesting.” You said with a smile. You couldn’t see his face as he was staring straight forward. His hands gripped the steering wheel hard, his knuckles turning white, before he let go and nodded. You looked away frustrated. What did that mean? 

You both got out of the car and lingered outside. “Oh, your sword.” He opened the door and grabbed it easily off the car floor. You watched as his hands wrapped around the hilt and the veins in his arms popped. “Thank you for everything. I appreciate you covering for me with Akari, and thank you for thinking of my health.” You just looked at him, you couldn’t think of the best way to say goodbye. 

“Thank you, for helping me with my…urges.” 

You smiled. “It could have been anyone.” You muttered. You saw his brows furrow but before he could say anything else you bowed politely and got in the car. 

    You watched him stare at you from the mirror as you drove away. His hair unkempt, suit jacket draped over his arm holding the sword, and the brown paper bag in the other. 

-

“Y/N!” Akari ran up to you and hugged you. “You had me worried to death. Are you feeling better? What happened?” 

“I need to hurry before the buses stop running. I’ll just tell you later.” 

Akari rolled her eyes. “I’ll give you a ride. Just tell me, are you okay?” 

You nodded. “The mission was easy enough, I’m just embarrassed.” 

“What got you sick? Was it the curse? I wouldn’t have sent you if I had known what it was, I’m so sorry.” 

“You know?” 

She nodded. “I looked up the report. A grade 2 sex curse. I'm so sorry.” 

You shook your head. “Don’t worry it wasn’t the curse. I ate at the corner shop outside of my apartment cause I was running late, it was my own doing,” you lied.

“Y/N I told you not to eat there anymore, I got so sick last time I was there.” You nodded apologetic. “Then you were, like, actually sick, in front of Nanami. Oh my god, no wonder you’re embarrassed.” 

“What did he say to you exactly?”

She smiled. “He picked up your phone on the last call before I was going to try him. And he assured me you were safe, just not feeling well.” She started laughing. “I asked him to send me evidence, because you can’t trust voices over the phone nowadays, you know, and he sent me this.” She pulled out her phone and showed you a selfie he took. Deadpanned as always. “Not an inch of emotion in his face. I’ve never seen him so ruffled up. His hair looks super messy, did the curse put up a fight?” You clenched your jaw as you felt your cheeks start to burn up, but tried to play it off.

“He said she could speak. And he demolished the place. The building owner was a perv so he decided to just tear the place apart.” You said quickly.

“He must’ve let all his frustrations out, damn.” She looked back up at you. “You look exhausted. Let me drive you home.” 

You shook your head. “I can take the bus, I don’t want to bother you.” Akari could tell something was upsetting you and just nodded. 

“Okay, but let me know when you get home.” 

“Of course.” 

   -

The bus ride was long, but usually you liked the way it gave you time to detach from your work. Today however, you were frustrated that it gave you more time to overthink everything. You closed your eyes and forced yourself to focus on something other than Nanami. 

What were you going to have for breakfast tomorrow? It was your day off. You could go to the bookstore you liked. Or get up early to go to the bakery across town. You were always too late to get your favorite sandwich for lunch, it sold out quickly, but you could tomorrow. 

You got off the bus and went inside your building up to your apartment, you walked quickly past the napping security guard who liked to hit on you sometimes. You sighed as you read the sign taped to the elevator. Out of business. You walked up seven flights of stairs quickly and rushed into your apartment. You put down your backpack and went straight into the shower. 

You plopped down on your couch with a sigh and grabbed your phone off of the coffee table. You opened up the message Akari had sent and you were met by the selfie Nanami had taken. 

   -thought you’d like this, personally I don’t get it, but I support you. rest up, hope you’re feeling better.

You smiled. 

   -thank you, ari.     -let me know if nanami leaves any feedback for me

You stared at the message and decided to delete it. 

    -appreciate you as always. 

    You exited out of your messages and went to check your bank account. You were slightly surprised. It was more than you had thought. Only by a couple hundred but it was enough. 

You opened up your messages again and tapped on your mother’s name. 

   -I had a bit left over this week, I’ll send it to you now. Hope you’re doing well. 

You proceeded to send her money. You thought about calling but you doubt she would answer. 

Your situation was a bit difficult. Growing up it had just been you, your sister, and your mother. Your sister was seven years younger than you, and you had always been close, although that hadn’t been the case for quite some time now. 

When you were eight your mother had woken you up in the middle of the night, with your baby sister and a small duffel bag in tow. The three of you had run away from the tiny smoky apartment your father had stuffed your family in. After that you had never lived in an apartment or house for more than a year at a time, your mother was constantly changing jobs, Taking up new hobbies, falling for pyramid schemes, or falling prey to loan sharks. It had always been something or the other. She was usually gone for hours on end, struggling to make ends meet, leaving you and your sister alone for much of your childhood. You grew up quickly and had basically raised her. You took on the extra responsibility young, but you never resented your mother for it. She was also doing her best. 

As you had gotten older you began to realize you weren’t a typical kid. You often saw things others didn’t, or sensed some sort of presence when nothing was there. The other kids thought you were creepy and left you alone. Everything escalated when you were 16.

At that point in your life your mom had found some solid footing while working at a small church next to an apartment you’d moved into. She finally seemed happy, she had found herself “reborn” under the light of a savior and the longer you lived with her the more you saw her change. You had never really talked to her about the things you saw, the creatures on peoples shoulders as they walked by or the pair of eyes you felt on you coming from dark corners. But one day after coming home you sensed a strange energy from inside the apartment and once you entered you were met with the scene of your mother praying over a young woman, with a man you recognized as the pastor. You looked above them and noticed a large grotesque creature hanging off of the ceiling swinging himself on his gangly arms. 

You stared at it, mouth agape. You had seen all types of creatures, but never one this big. Its bulbous eyes suddenly met yours and its head rotated in curiosity. A wicked forked tongue flickered out of its mouth at you and you screamed. The thing lunged at you and you somehow managed to dodge it as it swung towards you. You began to throw objects at it. 

“Y/N! What's going on?” Your mother screeched. The creature grumbled as the objects clattered against it, but it still made its way to you. Running out of objects to throw, you reached under the couch and pulled out a baseball bat. It jumped at you again and you swung the bat down hard onto the top of its head. There was an ugly crack and the thing dropped in front of you. Purple goo oozed out of its head wound and spilled onto the floor. 

“What happened? What are you doing!” Your mother stared at you in horror and the priest began to chant something. 

“You don’t see it?” You asked in shock. “You don’t see this thing?” You were panicking. 

“What are you talking about, what thing?” 

“This!” You swung your bat down again on the creature, also wanting to make sure it stayed down. You hit it one last time and it suddenly blew up, exploding all over the apartment. 

No one could see anything. The pastor hurried out of the apartment with the young woman, your mother stared at you in horror before following them out. 

Your mother didn’t come back to the apartment for two days. Nor did your sister. 

The pastor called to let you know they were staying at the church. You had an uncomfortable conversation, where he heavily implied your mother wouldn’t be coming back as long as you were still there. 

So you left. 

You hadn’t seen your mother again since that day. It had been 8 years. You still tried to keep in contact with her, although it was mainly one sided. You would send updates on how you were doing, wish her well on holidays, birthdays and the like, but she would never respond. The only time she answered was when you had texted her about getting a job and being able to send her money. She almost immediately sent you her bank information. Your younger sister had social media that you followed to keep up with them. They had stayed in that apartment without you. It was the longest you’d seen your mother stay in one place. She was happy, and you didn’t want to take that from her. 

Besides, it had all worked out in the end. Thanks to a bit of an incident, you had found yourself under the care of an older lady running a small bakery for around six months after you’d left. That was until you had been approached by someone and been initiated into Jujutsu Tech. 

There were only two other students in your year at the school and they had been rather cold to you. Having come in late, and not knowing anything about the sorcery world prior to the curse in your apartment, you were significantly lacking in almost all areas concerning sorcery. 

What you did have was stamina, you were an endless supply of energy and didn’t seem to tire as easily. That, if anything, helped you survive the training, the games, the curses, all of it. 

You decided to become an assistant during your fourth year. One of the other students, Yuri, planned to join the Zenin clan's personal army, while the other planned on mentoring under a professor at the Kyoto school to increase his ranking after graduation. You on the other hand were not so confident in your abilities. 

You had made great strides in progress after having started from scratch, but you never developed a specialty. You had discovered that you were able to use a small amount of RCT, after an incident where Yuri had smashed your face with a staff during what was supposed to be a friendly practice. While you covered your face in pain and tried not to panic as blood gushed from your top lip, you felt the tear and without thinking put your hands up to push the pieces of your lip back together. By the time you went to the medic they said there was not much they could do as you had already healed it. However, with your inexperience you had healed it to a scarred state. They had explained that the small boost of adrenaline from your injury had allowed you to concentrate enough to heal. However the overall consensus from the higher up was that they were not interested in training you any further on it, or rather you weren’t worth training.

So here you were, having worked as a manager for the past 5 years, and still only having very little cursed energy. The two years prior were spent training under different managers until you could be trusted on your own. Akari had trained with you but at a faster rate. After all, you were sort of an outsider. 

Your phone pinged as you received a message, snapping you out from the memory. 

    -he just asked me for your number and I gave it to him, let me know if he says anything crazy or inappropriate. He may be higher on the power scale, but remember my roots. 

You stared in shock at Akari’s message. He had your number…why would he want it? You put your phone down. If he texted you, you didn’t want to see it. You curled up on your couch and bit at your nails. What had you gotten yourself into. You should have refused his advances. He wasn’t in his right mind. You cursed at yourself again, you should have thought about the consequences, the aftermath. It was going to be so awkward. You sighed and stared up at the ceiling. 

Take a breath, you told yourself. You hardly ever saw him. Today had been the first time in the two years since Nanami had been back in the sorcerer world, that you had actually been in close proximity to each other. Alone anyway. You had seen him in meetings, briefly, that’s how this stupid crush had started. You didn’t really have to interact with him and you were fine acting like nothing had happened, sure you’d be a little sad, but that’s probably what he would want too. You bit your nails nervously. What would you do if he did want to see you? 

You shook your head. There was no use in wishful thinking. He hadn’t given you any signs that he was interested after all. Sure, he had invited you into his place but you felt like it was just a formality. He had just rocked your shit after all. You thought back to the way he gripped the steering wheel and the glimpse of confusion when you had said it could have been anyone. What was that? Frustration? Over what? 

You sat up as you remembered the pharmacy bag. You walked over to your small kitchen and grabbed a glass of water. 

Sitting back down on the couch you glanced at your phone nervously. You didn’t want to flip it over. You sighed and reached for it. It was late, if you didn’t answer it wouldn’t be that strange and at least you’d be able to think of a response if he had said anything. 

You checked your screen. Nothing. Somehow that hurt you a little. You tossed your phone again and laid down on the couch, closing your eyes. Whatever. You couldn’t do anything about it. Whatever happened had happened, and whatever was to come would be a problem for the future, no use worrying about it now. You slowly felt sleep take over and you dozed off. 

-

You awoke to the sound of your phone buzzing, and after looking around blindly and half asleep you found it. You pushed a button and held it up to your ear. “Hello?” Nothing. “Hello?” You looked at the screen and rolled your eyes. It was just your alarm. You groaned and let your phone clatter to the ground. 

That’s right, you had planned to get up early to go to the bakery across the city. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You got up sorely and yawned. You picked up your phone again and hesitantly checked your messages. Nothing. You didn’t know if that was better or worse. 

After stretching and getting ready for the day you headed to the bus stop to go across town. You were going to relax completely today. You weren’t going to think about what happened. You weren’t going to think about him. You weren’t going to think about the meeting tomorrow. Your smile dropped. You had a meeting tomorrow morning with all the staff. Usually you wouldn’t have to worry since the higher grade sorcerers rarely showed up to the weekly meetings; however, they had announced this meeting would be mandatory, there had been some incidents related to the investigation of a child's death. Nanami would most likely be there. You scrunched your face. No use stressing about it now. You didn’t know how he would react and again, it was no use worrying about it. 

After getting off on your stop you headed over to the bakery. You had gotten there right before the lunch rush. You went inside and were greeted by the girl that worked there. You smiled back and picked up a sandwich. You thought about grabbing two, one now and one for tomorrow's lunch. You smiled and looked around for a different kind of sandwich. You grabbed a bottle of water and went up to the cash register. 

“Oh these are two of my favorite sandwiches.” The girl said. 

You smiled warmly at her. “I don’t know which one I want to eat first, I’m saving one for my lunch tomorrow.” 

“Hmmm, tough decisions.” You nodded in agreement. 

You heard the doorbell ring behind you as someone came in.  “Hello, welcome-“ she stopped and stared for a bit before putting on a huge smile. “Oh hello Mr. Nanami! It’s great to see you today.” 

You felt your face start to burn up and you froze. You stared down at the sandwiches. You could sense it was him. You took a deep breath. Relax, you told yourself. You turned around and immediately met his eyes. You smiled at him and bowed your head. He smiled back slightly and walked up to you. 

“Good morning, Keiko.” Nanami said to the girl, there was no emotion in his voice.  “Good morning y/n, how are you doing today?” 

You stared at him for a bit before answering. “I’m doing good. How are you?” You felt like you were being a bit cold but you didn’t know what else to say. Your brain was not working. 

He nodded and looked down at your purchase. He added a sandwich and silently pulled out his wallet, and passed his card to Keiko. You stared at his hand and felt your cheeks blush again. 

“Thank you.” You said quietly. He grabbed the bag, thanking Keiko and walked over to a small table. You followed and sat down across from him. He pulled his sandwich out and handed you the bag. He pulled the newspaper he had tucked under his arm out and laid it on the table. 

“Thank you for buying my lunch.” You repeated. He nodded. He was so awkward. Or were you the awkward one? You didn’t know what his intentions were and you were getting frustrated. “Did you want to talk about yesterday?” 

His face suddenly had a slight blush although he didn’t move. “Only if you would like to.” 

“I-“ you didn’t know what to say. You were silent. You felt him watching you behind his glasses. You gripped the bag and took a deep breath. You’d already fucked the man, why were you nervous? You looked back up at him with new resolve. “I have some questions.” 

He nodded in approval. “I do as well.” You were surprised, what could he possibly be curious about? 

“You go first.” You said. 

Keiko was suddenly coming towards the table with a coffee in hand. She set it infront of Nanami. “Sorry to interrupt.” She said before stepping back to the counter. 

Nanami took the cup and blew on it. You watched anxiously, your frustration slowly building up. After a sip he put the cup down. “You can use RCT, why are you working as an auxiliary manager?” You were a bit taken aback. That’s what he wanted to ask you? He put a finger up to his shirt collar and slowly pulled down to show you his neck. You remembered now the injury he had sustained by the curse yesterday.

“When did I..” you murmured to yourself. You had forgotten that you had intended to patch him up. You had passed out instead. “I can only use a small amount. It’s nothing really.” 

“You’re wasting your potential,” he said sternly. “You could be helping people.” 

“I would hardly say that. Like I said, I barely have any cursed energy. I don’t know how I do it until the injury is in front of me. Besides, no one would teach me how to use it.” Nanami took another sip of his coffee. “Is that the only thing you wanted to ask me?” You said annoyed. Nanami hesitated to put the cup down. 

“Are you angry at me?” He caught you off guard again. 

You frowned. “No, I don’t think I am.” You thought about how to express your feelings. “I think, I think I’m more frustrated with you.” He gave you an inquisitive look. “I don’t know how you feel about what we did. Regret? Indifference? I know you’re not the type to really show your hand, but I’m not that way. I need to know because I don’t want to give off the wrong impression.” 

“And what is that?” 

You sighed. “I’m just going to be honest with you. We’re adults aren’t we?” You looked up at him. “I have feelings for you.” You blushed but didn’t dare look away. “I’m confused by what you- what we did. I know you were under some sort of influence and I can’t help but feel guilty about everything. The more I think about it the more it eats me up, I don’t think the lines of consent were crystal clear…but I don’t know how you feel about it. I’ll apologize profusely if I have to. Unless you feel differently… Basically..I want to understand your feelings before I can let myself feel anything else.” He didn’t react. “Okay?” You felt your face burn up, but you were proud that you were able to say all that to him. Wait, did any of that even make sense? You thought to yourself. 

He was silent as he finished his coffee. Your stomach grew more and more tense as you waited for his response. 

“I apologize for any miscommunication.” He said finally. “I’m afraid I’m not the best at expressing myself either. I’m not sure what to make of what happened yesterday. I will relieve some of your worries and tell you I hold nothing against you. In fact I’m grateful you were able to help me.” He looked down at the empty cup. “But to be honest I don’t know where to go from here either. I’m not interested in pursuing a relationship… I don’t believe romantic attachments are smart given our line of work, I don’t take these things lightly.” You scoffed. You couldn’t help it. “That being said,” he continued. “I would like to know where you want to go from here. As you said we’re both adults, I think it would be in our best interest to hear what each other would like.” 

You just stared at him. “What is it that you want then?” He was swinging the next step back at you but you didn’t want that. You wanted to hear it from him first. 

“As I said I’m not interested in-“ 

“Then we’ll pretend like nothing happened.” You said sharply. You didn’t want to hear it again. It was like you thought. He didn’t want you. It was never about you. He did like Akari, you had been a mistake. He stared at you silently. You took a deep breath. You looked up at him and smiled. “Okay.” You sighed. “Glad we got through that. I’m fine with doing that. I will say I’m a little embarrassed, but now I can work on getting over it.” You looked at the bag with your two sandwiches. You quickly picked it up. “Thank you for lunch today. We’ll call it even. Don’t worry about my shirt, otherwise I’d start to think about the dry cleaning bill for your suit.” You got up from your seat hastily. 

You bowed and started to walk away. He grabbed the bag to stop you. “You are angry with me.” 

You looked back at him and couldn’t hide your frown. “I’m hurt.” You mumbled. His brows furrowed. “I don’t think I was ready to talk to you. I apologize for how I’ve been acting. I still need time to process everything.” You turned away from him. “I…I’ll see you tomorrow.” As you walked away you noticed Keiko bringing another coffee towards the table. You smiled at her as you exited. You hurried towards the bus stop and stopped. The next bus would be there in 25 minutes. He would see you standing there. You groaned and walked past your stop. You pulled out your phone and called Akari. 

She picked up almost immediately. “Hey, Y/N how are you today?” 

“I need a drink.” 

“It’s 11 am, girl.” 

“I’ll be pregaming until you’re off. 8 work for you, at our usual spot?” 

“We have a meeting tomorrow morning.” 

“Since when has that ever stopped you?” 

“It’s stopped you before. What’s wrong?” 

You sighed. “Get me drunk enough and I’ll tell you.” 

Akari sighed sarcastically. “If you insist.” 

-

“Cheers!” You clinked your mug with Akari’s and Ijichi who had also decided to join you. You were already five drinks ahead of them and were feeling great. Good enough that you were trying to convince Akari to join you in performing karaoke next. 

“Ijichi, you go up there with me then.”

He shook his head. “I won’t be any good.” 

“Y/N why don’t you just go on by yourself, put on a good show.” 

“You know what, I totally should.” You said smiling from ear to ear. You stood up and clapped wildly for the people who were currently performing. Some others joined you and cheered them on. You loved this place. Akari and you had stumbled into it one night and the warm ambience and amazing food had made you regulars. 

You made your way to the stage and took the mic. You waved confidently as people cheered you on. You motioned to the DJ to play the next song. You laughed and clapped when you saw it was one of your favorites. 

Cue “Dress Down” by Kaoru Makimoto

You were smiling, dancing, having the time of your life, almost getting to the last chorus of the song when you noticed more people coming towards your table. You waved cheerfully as you noticed Shoko, Ijichi must’ve invited her. You moved around the stage and your heart stopped. Nanami was also sitting down. You looked at him and your eyes met. He paused before sitting down all the way. You stopped singing for a bit. 

He sat and turned his head away, you turned away as well. You sucked your teeth and kept singing. You were having a good time. You smiled again thinking about how ironic it was that you had run into him twice on the day you didn’t want to see him.

You finished the song and bowed dramatically as people cheered and clapped. You handed the mic off to a girl dragging her boyfriend on stage and gave them a thumbs up. 

“You’re quite energetic,” Shoko said to you as you sat down next to Akari. 

“She’s 7 beers in, I’d be surprised if she wasn’t.” Akari said. 

“Rough day?” 

You smiled at Shoko and scrunched your face. “Rough life.” 

“Cheers to that.” She raised her mug and everyone around raised theirs as well. 

“Cheers!” You gulped down your drink and let your eyes go to Nanami who was silent. You smirked. “Who’s doing karaoke next? I can’t be the only one who does it tonight.” 

“Ijichi san, you should go up there.” Shoko said after downing her entire beer. 

Ijichi blushed, “Ah, I don’t think I’ll be any fun to watch.” You smiled and snuck a glance at Akari. It was so obvious he had a crush on her. 

“Come on Ijichi, as long as you have fun it doesn’t matter.” You said playfully shoving him. “Or do a group performance.” You looked up at Nanami. “You and Nanami, now that I would love to see.” You laughed and Shoko smiled amused. 

“Have you really had 7 drinks already?” Nanami asked. 

You squinted your eyes at him and smiled. “Is that a challenge?” You chugged down the beer in front of you. “Ah, how refreshing. 8 now!” 

“She’s very good at handling her drinks.” Akari said. “Well, beer anyways.” 

   You furrowed your eyebrows at her. “That was one time!” You laughed and waved down the waitress. “Let’s get another round. Is anyone else starving?” 

The night went on and you and Shoko chatted up realizing you had a lot in common. You ended up doing two more karaoke songs. One with Akari and thanks to Shoko, you managed to convince Ijichi to go up with you. You and him performed like your life depended on it. And the crowd ate it up. You were smiling from ear to ear again. You weren’t gonna let Nanami make you upset in your own space. In fact, why were you even upset? Was it so bad that he wanted to pretend like nothing happened? If anything it made things easier. You weren’t exactly in any position to date, especially not someone higher up. You smiled and waved at Akari from the stage. She smiled and waved back and you noticed Nanami talking to her. Your smile faltered but you just took another drink before looking at Ijichi and singing again. 

Good for them. You would do anything for Akari, so stepping aside for her to be with him wouldn’t be a problem. You only had a crush. 

You finished up the song and headed back to the table. “-you’re making it obvious.” You caught the tail end of Shoko and Nanami’s conversation. 

“Where did Akari go?” You asked. 

“Bathroom.” Shoko said. “You should quit your day job and become an entertainer Y/N, the crowd loves you.” 

You smiled. “The old timers here love me, I don’t think it would translate well outside.” You laughed. “Besides, they loved Ijichi too! If I do quit you have to join me in my new career.” 

“We’d miss him terribly.” Shoko said. Ijichi blushed again and you laughed. 

“Very true, cheers!” You raised your glass. You weren’t sure how many drinks you had downed at this point. “To Ijichi and everything he has to put up with.” 

“Cheers!” 

Akari came back to the table and plopped down next to you. “We should wrap up soon. We have a meeting in the morning.” You pouted. She gave you a look. “It’s almost 2 am.” 

“Oh!” You said surprised. “You all let me drag you out for so long?” You stood up and bowed dramatically. “Thank you for indulging my night out.” 

Shoko smiled. “Anytime, you’re a star.” She winked at you playfully. 

“Shoko, marry me please.” you said clasping your hands together jokingly.

She laughed and finished her drink. “I’d have to get in line.” Nanami shot her a look and you laughed. “You should come out with us more. Ijichi, Nanami, Utahime, and I go out for drinks every other week or so.” She looked at Akari. “You too dear. The sane sorcerers have to stick together.” 

Nanami excused himself to use the restroom. Shoko smirked once he was gone. “He’s going to try to pay the bill but I already got it.” 

You looked at her shocked. You grabbed her hands. “Shoko, please marry me.” She laughed again. 

“Where have you been all my life?” she said smiling.

“Want me to drive you home?” Akari asked you. 

You nodded and slapped your hands together again this time bowing down to her. “Yes please.” 

“Of course!” She said proudly. 

“Let me run to the bathroom real quick.” 

You excused yourself and headed towards the bathrooms in the back. You smiled as you passed people, you hated to admit it but you were a bit buzzed. You were a little extra friendly when you were like this. You laughed to yourself. It was fine as long as you didn’t run into- you saw him coming out of the bathroom and walking towards you. The hallway to the bathrooms was rather narrow. There was enough space for two people to stand side by side but not much. He looked straight ahead as if he wasn’t even going to acknowledge you. Oh well, you thought. You continued on merrily. 

As you passed him you felt his hand brush past yours and felt him slightly tug on your sleeve. It was quick but you felt your heart flutter and you stopped. 

“Nanami.” You said as you turned to look at him. He stopped but didn’t turn around. “Why did you do that?” He was silent, still not turning. You walked back towards him standing inches away. You quickly looked past him, ensuring no one was approaching. You grabbed his sleeve. “Is anyone coming?” 

“No.” He said. 

You sighed and dragged him into the bathroom. 

You quickly locked the door behind you. The amount of times you had accidentally walked into a couple being intimate was astounding. He stood a couple of feet away from you and stared. You turned back to him and smiled. “I know what this looks like, but I just want to talk. Really.” You put your arms up to wave your hands. “I’m a little tipsy but if anything I have the words to say what I finally want to say. Let’s talk.” He stepped closer to you, closing the gap in an instant. “Oh fuck.” You said taken aback, he had pinned your back against the door. 

“I don’t want to talk.” He said gruffly. Moving his lips closer to your ear. 

“Obviously. I don’t think you said a single thing to me out there. Are you-“ 

“Are you really okay with forgetting what we did? It didn’t bother you? It didn’t leave an impression?” 

“Now you have questions.” You couldn’t take him seriously. The alcohol was not helping. You looked up at him and smiled coyly. “You want the truth?” He just stared at you. You leaned your head closer to him and pressed your cheek to his so you could whisper in his ear. “You took my virginity.” You kissed his cheek as you pulled your face back. You looked at him and his face was red. You giggled and put your hands up to cup his face. “I couldn’t forget you if I tried.” He slowly moved his face closer and you leaned in to kiss him. 

You both suddenly and passionately kissed each other, Nanami wrapping his hands around your body to pull you closer. He was almost as desperate as he had been in the car; tugging on your lips and rolling his tongue into yours. You winced as his glasses poked into your face and he quickly took them off. You stopped for a bit and smiled at him. “You’re beautiful.” You said giggling.

He furrowed his brows and moved forward to kiss you again. He pinned you back against the wall again and you hoisted yourself up by his shoulders to wrap your legs around his waist. He steadily rocked into you and you moaned as his bulge hit your sensitive clit. You grinded desperately back on him. You shuddered as you were already coming close and you moaned into his mouth. “Nanami, wait.” You removed your arms from his shoulders and lowered yourself. You slid down onto your knees and worked on his belt. You giggled to yourself, you were feeling bold. You hungrily pulled out his cock and smiled as he tensed. You wrapped your hand around him and he let out a breath. You licked a long stripe and smiled as you watched him grow red. You took the tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue over the top, but he suddenly moved your face back. 

“If we do that, I won’t be able to control myself.” You laughed and frowned, feigning upset. “I don’t want to ruin your pretty face tonight.” He pulled his pants further down and lifted you up to stand. “Your cunt on the other hand…” 

You smiled. “You’re good.” You quickly pulled down your safety shorts and underwear as he pulled you up by your waist, allowing  you to wrap your arms around his shoulders for stability. Using his knee he pushed your legs open and moved a hand down to steady you before teasing your folds by rubbing up on them. “Hurry, they’re going to notice we’re-“ he entered you and you gasped. You were still a bit sore from yesterday, but once again he was hitting that spot that sent tingles into your stomach. “Fuck!” 

He smiled and started rocking his hips into you. Kissing you and muttering words of praises. You felt your climax rapidly approaching and you couldn’t help but moan and buckle your hips wildly against him. You felt him speed up and you were suddenly in total bliss. You felt the heat quickly build up inside you before it flooded your entire body. You climaxed and felt yourself clamp down on him. “Fuck.” He said as he slammed his hips into you deeper and deeper before settling there with a final jut and coming deep inside of you. His grunts as he came made you smile and you peppered kisses on his face. He put a hand up under your chin and guided you to kiss his lips. You pulled back and smiled at him happily. 

There was suddenly a knock on the door and your head snapped towards it, startled. “Y/N you in there?” It was Akari. “Are you okay? Is your stomach upset again?” 

You felt Nanami slide out and he quickly grabbed some toilet paper to collect what oozed out of you. “Yeah, it’s me. Sorry. I guess it wasn’t the best idea to go out drinking after I fucked up my stomach yesterday.” Thank you, you mouthed to Nanami who had wiped you clean and was now wiping himself. “Did everyone else leave?” 

“Nanami still isn’t back. Shoko said he might have gone out for a smoke, I didn’t know he smoked honestly.” You looked back at Nanami and he shook his head. I don’t. He seemed to say. 

“Okay, just give me like 3 minutes and I’ll be out there, I’m sorry.” 

“You’re good!” Nanami looked at you with pleading eyes. 

“Come home with me,” he whispered. You blushed and considered it. 

“I..I can call a taxi if you want to go ahead and go home, I honestly might be longer.” 

You heard Akari laugh from the other side of the door. “It’s no problem, god knows you’ve seen me worse. Actually do you want to just spend the night at my place and we can head to work together? I do live closer so you’ll get to sleep in a bit more.” 

Nanami shook his head and you frowned at him. “That sounds good.” He looked upset. You smiled slightly. He was way more expressive without his glasses. “Tell the others I’ll be right out. They can go without me.” 

“Okay, I’ll tell them there was a line. Your secret is safe with me.” 

“You know I love you right.” You said to Akari. You heard her laugh again. 

“Shoko was right earlier, she has to get in line, I’m gonna marry you first.” You heard her walk away. 

“Why won’t you come with me?” Nanami asked seriously. 

Your smile dropped as you thought about it. You shrugged. “I don’t know you. I don’t think it would be appropriate.” 

“Really?” He said in an annoyed tone, as he zipped up his pants and handed you your underwear. You rolled your eyes and smiled at him. You reached up to take your panties when he playfully raised them higher. “Let me help you with that.” he lowered his arm and lowered himself down, opening the band to let you slip your legs into them. He slowly slid them up your legs, letting his fingers trace your skin. He stood back upright and hovered his face in front of yours smiling mischievously. You blushed and slipped on the rest of your bottoms. 

You sighed as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and he gently placed his hands on your waist. “You said it yourself, you’re not interested in pursuing a relationship with me.” 

“I-“ 

You shook your head and cut him off. “Why would you take me home other than to just fuck me again? I have a bit more self respect than that. Besides, I told you I had feelings for you. I don’t want to give myself hope.” You looked down, feeling a bit somber. “I don’t know why we keep running into each other like this, but I know I don’t have your heart even in the slightest. I know I’m not who you were hoping for.” He looked at you confused. He opened his mouth to speak but you kissed him to shut him up. “You need to start carrying around condoms, you’re going to get someone pregnant like this. Wait two minutes before you walk out.” You quickly slipped out of his embrace and opened the door. 

“Y/N, wait.” 

You closed the door behind you and looked at the person waiting to go in. “I’d wait for the other bathroom to open up, give this one time to air out. I’m sorry.” You said and walked away. As you walked you noticed how sore your lower abdomen was. The alcohol was wearing off and what you had just done was slowly sinking in. 

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˚₊✩‧₊nana here: i'm sorry for ending this with another cliffhanger but i didn't want to make this any longer than it already is and i also didn't want to give y'all a chapter without a little spice. i'm still trying to figure out the direction of part 3... theres a lot of things that i introduced here that might just not go anywhere oops. i have a whole project in my head but it might be something for ao3 isntead idk. i'll be sure to wrap this up neatly tho. anyway thank yall for reading and remember that if you saw a typo, no you didn't. shout out again to cath for reading my god awful writing and editing it haha

pt 1. pt 3. pt 4. pt 5.