#but yeah. I think the truth is...ultimately not the truth. and that makes me really sad.

[soft-serve-soymilk]

Actually I’ve come to the conclusion that Cynthia would like Kingdom Hearts for the exact same reason she likes Graces f (the homoerotic tension,,,,,,)

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

Well. I think I'm gonna go cry now.

[chelseeebe]

truth or dare

18+. mdni. smuuuut. yeah man it’s really just smut. eddie munson x female reader.

a/n: not sure if i really like this but i wanted to post something while i work on this other long ass thing that may never see the light of day el oh el a continuation to gimme a hand and bump n’ grind or can absolutely be read on it’s own!

steve and robin had made the right call, leaving a few hours ago before the storm really hit.

eddie’d stupidly offered another joint, not wanting to let you go so soon. optimistic that maybe something would happen after those two had cleared off.

you’d been darting around it all evening, watching the movie with your hand under the blanket, stroking his thigh. inadvertently, or perhaps purposefully, making his cock shift with every length of your hand.

you peer out of the window, clicking your tongue against the back of your teeth, “i don’t think i can drive,” turning back to face him, “it’s really comin’ down out there,” a hint of satisfaction in your voice.

“i’m sure wayne won’t mind if you crash here,” shrugging softly.

you used to stay around a lot when you were slightly younger, back when touch was innocent and there weren’t all these complicated layers to your relationship.

“can you handle that?”

his eyes roll back, “shut up,” sitting back in his spot on the couch. anticipating spending the night here rather than in his bed, desperate to prove that he could handle it.

“whatcha wanna do?” you sing, pursing your lips.

“i dunno,” he shrugs, “we could watch another movie?” knowing that ultimately, another movie would lead to you touching his thigh until he came or something.

“that’s boring,” scowling at his suggestion, “i mean.. we are stuck in here,” biting on your bottom lip, “let’s play a game,” you propose, cocking your head, “truth or dare.”

eddie groans, an unwilling participant in your silly little games.

“come on,” offering zero incentive for him to play, “it’ll be fun,” taking another swig of the surely luke-warm beer. “truth or dare?”

there is not a single bone in his body that wants to play with you. no doubt you’d have him confessing to something embarrassing or doing something dangerous or stupid.

“dare,” he says flatly, hoping you’ll dare him to jump out of the window or something.

“i dare you..” you ponder for only a second, “to take your shirt off.”

“wh-,” he starts, mouth falling open, “well i dare you to take your shirt off.”

“it’s not my turn, idiot,” pursing your lips, “off.. now.”

pouting your lips, watching carefully as he lifts his shirt off, tossing it to the other side of the room.

“alright,” honing in on this stupid game, “truth or dare?”

“dare.”

eddie’s eyes light up, “take your shirt off,” immediately getting his own back.

“you’re supposed to say i dare you before your dare,” tutting at his impatience, though you do as he says.

lifting your shirt over your head, revealing the lacy bra you had most definitely chosen on purpose. maybe this was your plan all along, waiting to get him alone to inflict your cruel wrath upon him.

he ogles just enough to not have you mention anything, diverting his attention back to whatever drivel was on the tv. desperate to just get over this dancing around each other and get to the inevitable.

“truth or dare?” you ask again, poking his leg with your foot.

“do we have to play?” eddie whines.

“yes.”

“okay truth,” he spits, leaning back against the cushions.

“why didn’t it work out with you and chrissy?”

he groans again, already sick of this, “we wanted different things,” different things being you, he means.

“like what? i thought you were testing the waters or whatever?” mocking him with his own words.

“you. you jerked me off and ruined my life forever, is that what you wanted me to say?”

you ponder in silence for a moment before that god awful smirk creeps onto your face, “actually yes, that’s exactly what i wanted you to say,” crossing your legs, all self-righteous and smug.

it’s not like you didn’t already know this, it was fairly obviously to anyone with eyes and two brain cells to rub together.

“your turn,” smiling pointedly at you, “truth or dare?”

you hum, contemplating your options, whatever you picked, he was surely going to make it worth his while.

“dare.”

“alright,” eddie sits up straight, poking his tongue into his cheek, “i dare you to run around outside in your underwear,” if you wanted to play stupid games, you could win stupid prizes too.

your smile grows, taking over your entire face, “fine,” standing from your spot on the floor, shimmying out of your jeans right in front of him.

he jumps up, rushing to the door as you bound outside, filling the silent trailer park with your squeals and squeaks.

eddie watches in quiet amazement, more focused on the way your tits move with every bound, your lacy panties framing your jiggling ass perfectly. he’s close to drooling, turning into a slobbering mess at the sight of you literally frolicking in your panties. he was a pathetic man, and he knew it.

you turn, running full speed back into the door, teeth chattering and your hands trembling from the cold. barrelling straight past him, back into the warmth, lashes coated in tiny, intricate snowflakes.

“fuck!” you screech, “you asshole,” picking up his discarded shirt to slip on instead of your own. he wishes you hadn’t. seeing you half naked in his shirt was far worse than seeing you actually naked.

eddie snickers, closing the door all the while trying to keep his composure.

a smirk erupts onto your face, something ticking away in your brain before you stomp over, grabbing his cheeks with your ice cold hands, grinning with pure self satisfaction.

he hollers, grabbing your wrists in defence. it becomes a flailing sort of dance, with you trying to keep your cold hands on his face and him fighting to get you away. a mixture of expletives fill the trailer, screeching over one another as you move around the room.

you trip over one of the discarded bottles on the floor, sending you flying back onto the couch, still breathlessly cursing him out.

eddie takes the only logical step, pouncing on top of your flailing body, bounding your arms together at the wrist, heaving for breath.

he freezes, the realisation that for once he had all the power dawning upon him, unequipped for the sudden change in dynamic.

he can feel you, underneath him, pressed into the couch by his body, sending shivers down his spine.

“you gonna do something or what?” you snark, no longer trying to wriggle free, accepting and even pleased in your defeat.

“yeah,” he adds meekly, despite not making an attempt to actually do something.

your brows thread together, knee sliding up the side of his body, spreading your legs further as his cock perks up in response.

holy fucking shit.

this was it.

or it could be it if he can gather his raucous thoughts enough to make a move.

eddie’s had sex before, multiple times in fact. he doesn’t understand why his hands aren’t doing the thing they should be, why he’s frozen in place, waiting for something to happen.

“we don’t have to, you know?”

fuck. he was going to fuck this up through sheer stupidity.

so instead of letting his brain worm his way out of what would probably be the best moment of his life, he thinks with his dick.

pressing his lips to yours in a hasty, rushed kiss. letting your hands free from his restraint, allowing you to weave your fingers through his hair just like he’d thought so much about.

his hands crawling underneath his shirt, touching your skin for what felt like the first time ever, gliding over your waist, appreciating the soft feel of your skin, lingering for too long.

he doesn’t want to take it off, how many times could he say he’d have sex with you with his shirt on?

you’d already stripped him out of his clothes, leaving nothing to the imagination as his hips grind down against yours, breathing shakily into your mouth.

your lips latch onto his, tongue sliding into his open mouth while your fingers pull gently at his curls.

even when eddie thinks he’s fully in control, you still take charge. rutting your hips upwards, separated by the thin layer of lace and his boxers that most definitely had a hole in them.

there’s a fifty percent chance that he’ll cum right away, already incredibly hard, teetering on the edge.

it’s genuinely incomprehensible that after months and months of longing and edging, this was finally happening. too caught up with trying to keep to your pace to really think about the implications on your relationship too much.

he hopes that this won’t change anything, at least not negatively anyway.

your hand slides down the tiny space left in between your bodies, toying with the waistband of his boxers before slipping in. unable to contain his groan from slipping out and into your mouth.

tugging the fabric down just enough to let his cock out, giving him no time to recover before your fist wraps around the base of his cock, pumping your fingers around the sensitive skin.

“fuck,” he breathes, bottom lip still latched onto yours. no hand had ever come close to yours, filling his thoughts since you’d touched him for the first time.

wayne’s ratty old couch wasn’t exactly the romantic location he’d envisioned this happening in, but beggars can’t be choosers and eddie certainly wasn’t going to complain.

he’s so dumbfounded that any of this is even happening, clumsily fumbling with the lace hem of your underwear, tugging them down haphazardly, with no care or grace.

his previous displays of desperation made sure you didn’t care about his composure, or else you wouldn’t be here.

your lips collide, all teeth and tongues and spit. eddie too focused on the feel of your hand around his cock to care.

he can feel your body shift from underneath, manoeuvring his cock to your soaked entrance, letting out the most ungodly noise as the tip glistens with your slick.

pressing your sweaty forehead against his, begging for his full attention, “look at me,” you insist, running your fingers around his cock, withholding him from full satisfaction.

he does as you ask, finding your wild-eyed gaze, holding it just long enough to slide into your slick cunt, grunting into the hot air that hung around the room.

“fuck,” you bite, weaving your fingers through his hair, tightening your things around his waist.

it’s dizzying. feeling you envelope around him just as he’d imagined countless times before. you’re so warm and so wet, so so wet. eddie can’t help but wonder if this is how you’d felt when you were grinding against him.

nothing could’ve ever prepared him for the fuzzy haze that’d encapsulate his brain, thoughts only of you and your body and your pussy.

his balls slap against your ass, slow and steady, hoping not to bust five seconds in. keeping his eyes on yours, encapsulated by the way they flit between his eyes and his lips.

heaven wouldn’t be too far off this, he thinks.

his rhythm is neither here nor there but he was trying, filling you to the hilt and then pulling back out again.

every soft, melodic gasp and cry you made was echoing through his brain, spurring him on to make them louder.

purely intoxicated with your pussy, gasping for more as he slams against your hips.

this wasn’t going to last long but he sure as shit was going to make it worthwhile.

you writhe underneath his body, fingernails grazing against his scalp, gentle and yet demanding.

“sh-shit eds,” you pant, jaw slack with your tongue practically lolling out of your head.

just hearing you moan his name has detrimental effects on his brain chemistry. his eyelids struggle, fluttering open just enough to meet your glossy eyes, pupils blown out and crazy. this was going to wreck him for the rest of his life, cursed forever by the image of you and your parted lips. the way you wail his name becoming a tune he’d revisit constantly.

he’d love to capture it, one day, if you’d let him.

no one would ever come close to you, your cunt and your god forsaken sighs. eddie promises to himself that if there’s a next time, he’s not leaving until you cum. unsure if he’d be able to control himself but more than willing to take that risk.

his thrusts become sporadic, losing his grip on reality as he teeters closer and closer to the edge. you can see it too, tugging gently on his hair to bring him back to this reality.

pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his mouth, too high off of your own pleasure to aim for accuracy.

eddie’s not sure if he prefers your goading or this softer touch, honestly neither were helping him not to bust his load right now.

“yeah?” you breathe, in response to his hoarse grunts, succumbing to the tightening pressure in his stomach, “you gonna cum?” sighing against his mouth.

he doesn’t want to, not really. hoping this’d last forever and ever because god knows if you’d ever let him touch you again.

hoping desperately to have not wasted his one and only time buried inside of you by cumming in five minutes flat.

but he is going to cum, in fact, he’s dangerously close to doing so immediately. the way you squeeze and tighten around him only accelerating the inevitable, his toes curling and mouth running dry.

he was seeing stars, dancing around the inside of his eyelids. woozy on adrenaline as he pathetically ruts his hips into yours for a final few lousy strokes.

“oh fuck,” eddie rushes, “no- fuck i’m cumming,” his cock slides out, thick ropes of his release covering not only your inner thighs but the couch too. collapsing atop of your perfect body, pinning you to the cushions as he attempts to gain some sort of semblance of control.

his face finds your chest, heaving for breath between your tits, his shirt pulled up just enough for your bra to peep underneath the hem.

“jesus christ,” words vibrating against your skin, almost purring at your fingers combing through his hair.

nothing he could ever dream would match up to that. the neurons in his brain had been frazzled, never to work or compute the way they should, ever again.

he places a measly kiss to your chest, looking up at you through his lashes, an insignificant gesture of appreciation that he felt he owed.

“you good?” you ask, lips twitching into a smile, unsure if you’re mocking him or genuinely concerned. either or would be fine.

“not really,” still floating up above the clouds.

“shut up,” definitely mocking, pulling tufts of his hair back to have him meet your eye fully, “you liked that?”

he nods enthusiastically, pining after your approval like the lovesick little loser he truly was. incredibly, you hadn’t run off into the storm, so maybe you had too.

“good,” abruptly letting go of his hair, his head falling back onto your chest, “get off me, i need a shower,” attempting to peel him off of your body.

eddie knows, or at least hopes, that your snippy, sarcastic comments were made out of love. you showed affection by being a bitch and he showed his by being a stumbling, pathetic loser.

if that was all he had to endure to get anywhere near your pussy again, he’d do it in a heartbeat. each and every time.

-

wayne’s knuckles wrap against his bedroom door, waking eddie from the already broken sleep he was suffering with, far too excitable to settle down properly. instead he’d spent his hours between drifting in and out of sleep and watching your dreamy face, trying to match his breaths to yours.

he slides out of bed, careful not to wake you, treading carefully to avoid the mountains of crap strewn across the floor.

“what the hell?” wayne whispers angrily, gesturing back to the living room he had neglected to clean. too caught up in you being in his shower and in his bed with his shirt on to care about empty beer bottles and discarded clothes.

“sorry,” eddie squirms, knowing he couldn’t exactly worm his way out of this one. “we had a few beers.. you know,” shrugging coyly. his uncle wasn’t stupid, he definitely did know.

wayne’s eyes narrow, flitting behind eddie to you, sleeping soundly in his bed. thankfully covered by the blanket as you slept in just his shirt.

“what happened there?” raising his brow at his inconspicuous nephew.

he shrugs, and then he grins. that great big toothy grin that wayne couldn’t mistake.

wayne shakes his head, tutting to himself as he backs away from the door, “clean that shit up before i wake up,” before disappearing into his own room.

eddie smiles to himself, sliding back into bed when you stir, humming softly, displeased to have been woken up so early.

“is he mad?” you mumble, muffled by the pillow.

“no.. no, not really,” eddie hushes, turning on his side to face you.

you’re still dozing, not bothering to open your eyes though he didn’t mind, you were peaceful this way, far calmer than your usual self.

“good,” settling into the pillow before slinging your leg over his thigh, pulling yourself closer, “he loves me too much to do anything anyway,” nestling your body into his side.

if the world ended tomorrow, eddie would die a happy man.

[feathersandblue]

So, full disclosure, I haven't been a Solas fan before.

I am now.

And that's because of Veilguard and the many, many ways in which I felt let down by this game.

The aspect that bothers me most is the reduction of nuance and complexity.

Rook's hero's cakewalk (because “journey” really isn't the right word) is a ready-made path that offers no deviation at all and never challenges the player in any meaningful way.

Sure, you can spend some time pondering the pros and cons of saving Treviso or Minrathous. Ultimately, it makes no difference. Rook does their best, they just can’t be in two places at once.

Same with the companion character arcs. What does it mean if you decide to you turn Emmrich into a lich? For the most part, it's idle musing. Indulgence. He’ll be happy either way, there are no real stakes. Yeah, your actions do have consequences, just not the sort of consequences that make a substantial difference. It’s the illusion of choice – reduced to cosmetics.

The problems with decisions that cost nothing is that they don’t feel like an accomplishment. They also don’t allow for character growth. Rook doesn’t change, they remain static. Even the section in the Fade where Rooks faces their regrets is easy and comparatively lightweight. Varric was killed by Solas, Harding resp. Davrin died in combat and either Bellara or Neve was abducted by Elgar’nan. It’s not like Rook’s decisions actually caused these events, it’s not like Rook actually failed through a choice they had to make that turned out to be the wrong one. Everyone was there willingly and volunteered to fight the good fight. Rook’s regrets are not about real guilt, they are about feeling sad and guilty. And that – it needs to be said – is not the same thing. At all.

At the same time, the story carefully avoids any kind of true ethical dilemma.

It's not even about the lack of mean or edgy dialogue options; that’s just a symptom. The cause is the writers’ unwillingness to let realism intrude in Rook’s fairytale – the lack of anything that would require Rook to compromise on morals, or fight temptation. Rook is never faced with any sort of moral conundrum, or allowed to act out any kind of vice that realistic characters have. In its straight-path simplicity, Rook's story is apparently written for children and people who remain child-like in their yearning for simple, uncontested truths.

Of all the sorts of conflicts that a story can offer, Veilguard carefully avoids the most realistic and (in my opinion) interesting ones: Character vs. self and character vs. society, aka, politics. The game firmly refuses to go there. To the point where it creates a completely unrealistic consensus on all sides that eliminates yet another sort of conflict: character vs. character.

If Rook and their companions would talk politics, they’d all be on the exact same side. In a two party state, they’d all cast the same vote.

I am sure that there are many players who feel comforted and reassured by that fact, who sincerely believe that this is how stories should be written. That stories should reflect the world not as it is but as they think it should be. But for everyone who likes their stories a little more realistic, that lack of meaningful interpersonal conflict, that lack of real diversity which comes not from appearance but from different cultures and opposing viewpoints amounts to a frankly cringe-worthy, artificial and juvenile surface-level interaction between characters. Or, to phrase it differently: the diversity remains skin-deep and doesn’t extend to the philosophical, and even in the few instances where it does, it shies away from the political.

Which means that the only conflicts that remain are the most boring and stereotypical ones: character vs. monsters resp. the supernatural, where all foes are evil in the blandest way (Supremacist Venatori! Fascist renegade qunari! Power-hungry necromancers!). These conflicts are resolved through exploring maps and endless, repetitive combat.

The only thing that brings a bit of nuance to the game is Solas’s story. And there is an element of character vs. character in Rook’s and Solas’s relationship, but the sad truth is that what could have been a fascinating mirrored character journey falls flat for all the reasons already explained – because where Solas is a character as layered and controversial as it gets, Rook is anything but.

Solas’s story shows how even people with the best intentions and the greatest integrity are ultimately broken by what life throws at them, both by the decisions that are forced upon them and the choices they make on their own. It shows how a prolonged war is always a sunk cost fallacy: I’ve gone this far, if I stop now, it was all for nothing.

Rook’s victories, on the other hand, come without a cost – both in terms of moral corruption and in accountability. The guilt Solas bears is real. The fight against the titans, followed by his war against the Evanuris, requires compromising his own morals, one day at a time, one century after another, he’s trying to save the world yet doomed to fail. Sacrificing the spirits to win a battle after the war has gone this far? Every single war leader around the globe would make the same decision. In fact, all of them do: They do sacrifice the lives of others if it will help them win, they do send soldies into the trenches to die, whether these soldiers want to or not, and they are rarely, if ever, truthful about the reasons why.

In a certain way, the story of the spirit of wisdom turned flesh is reminiscent of the biblical Fall of Man: the original sin. Solas has fallen, and he’s broken. In trying to heal the world, he’s trying to heal himself. The burden is too heavy, the responsibility to great, the knowledge that he is responsible for all of it too devastating. Solas’s greatest conflict is character vs. self. It has the potential to be great. In a way, it is. It’s the single redeeming quality that, depending on your interpretation of what went on behind the scenes, the writers managed to salvage from the original concept of Dreadwolf or the lone pillar that withstood all their attempts to bring it down.

Only sadly, infuriatingly, in the end, that fallen hero’s ending is put into the hands of a protagonist who judges him from the perspective of someone who has never even stumbled – not because they are wiser, braver, or kinder. No, just because the writers were gracious – or cowardly? – enough to never let them fail.

The game gives Rook a moral high ground which isn’t earned in the slightest because Rook never had to walk even a quarter of a mile in Solas’s shoes. They don’t know what they would have done in his stead, they have no idea what it actually means to see the sorry shape the world is in and know that it was your hands that shaped it. And even where Rook might actually be culpable – the interruption of Solas’s ritual that freed the remaining Evanuris – anyone is quick to assure Rook that it wasn’t their fault.

Whatever regrets Rook carries, they’re born from self-doubt and trauma response. Survivor’s guilt, mostly. When compared to Solas’s immense guilt, Rook’s regrets are, for lack of a better term, insignificant. That Rook manages to face them doesn’t mean that they are more truthful or emotionally mature, it just means that Rook’s story is a tale for children and Solas’s is not.

It’s not that I’m necessarily opposed to the idea that the player decides Solas’s fate through their actions. It’s the injustice of it all that bothers me: The player is led through a game that provides a safe space for their character, one that is devoid of any interpersonal conflict and any ethical quandary. Rooks succeeds through kindness and heroism and taking their companions on team bonding exercises.

As if Solas could have won the war against the Evanuris if he’d taken the time to take his companions on coffee dates.

The juxtaposition – Rook vs. Solas – fails, simply because of this deep divide. Rook’s story is detached from reality and yet Rook gets to be Solas’s judge, jury, and executioner. On what grounds?

As I said, right in the beginning, I haven’t been a Solas fan before. But by the end of Veilguard, I was firmly, irrevocably, Team Solas, just because I was so annoyed that the narrative put Rook in a position of moral superiority. I detested my own character. Jesus, what a goody two-shoes! I was rooting for Solas simply because his story was so much more: a genuine tragedy, a study in complexity. Rook, on the other hand, remains bland, snotty, unchanged. Untried.

The thing is, I don’t believe that my reaction was one the writers had intended. I strongly feel that they didn’t mean for me to pick up on their double standard, that they expected me to walk away fully satisfied, convinced that Rook and The Team were the Good Guys because they went on picnics and petted the griffon, their final victory well-earned and just. If only Solas had had a Team and taken care of their emotional needs – he could have taken down the Evanuris with nary a scratch!

It’s all so very disingenuous.

Rook and, by extension, the player exist in a bubble of sanitized content. That is clearly deliberate. The player is meant to like it there. (In that sense, it’s only logical that they changed the title from Dreadwolf to Veilguard.) And clearly, it does resonate with a certain kind of their player base: mostly with people, I think, who would like their real life to be a bubble too and whose only experience with moral corruption is when they find it in others.

[shiroxichigo]

Ichigo gets a lot of shit (typically from outside of the Bleach fandom) for being a character whose wants/goals never change from beginning to end of his series. He always wants to protect people (and even though I could argue that he went from only wanting to protect those close to him to wanting to protect everyone he can, that's not the point I'm making with this post).

I think a lot of people who only give Bleach a passing glance fail to see Ichigo's true character growth. It's not about what his goals are or who he's trying to protect, but rather, it's about how he achieves it.

Ichigo is very self-sacrificing in the first third of Bleach. He believes that if the mission is successful, then it doesn't matter how broken or close to death he gets. The mission, saving Rukia (and hurting/killing as few people in the process), is all that matters.

Then, when a part of himself (his inner hollow) emerges, and says "hey yeah no, I'm not letting you get yourself killed and I'm also not letting you hold back against your enemy", Ichigo immediately rejects it.

It's not until he defeats his inner Hollow that we see Ichigo really dive into a fight with the intent to kill. The problem is, once his Hollow is defeated, he thinks that's it. He's freed himself of that part of him and he can go back to being self-sacrificing.

We see this throughout the Hueco Mundo arc. It's why saving Orihime parallels saving Rukia. Ichigo naively thinks he can suppress a part of himself. He bottles it up until it explodes, coming back to haunt him in his fight with Ulquiorra, etc. He learns that side of himself isn't so easily tucked away, and if he recklessly endangers himself, he could end up endangering his friends too. At his own hand, no less.

Then Ichigo discovers he can commit the ultimate sacrifice. Final Getsuga Tenshou. He can throw away these powers and the parts of himself that he doesn't like, and he can get rid of Aizen all in one go. He's lucky that it worked, but only because Kisuke was there.

Then, once Ichigo is powerless, he learns that's not what he really wants. Life doesn't "go back to normal". The can is open, and there's danger out there beyond just Aizen. And Ichigo can't do anything to stop it unless he gets his powers back.

So he does. Then he cuts down the threat to his friends and family. And he doesn't hesitate this time. Yes, he still has compassion for his enemies (he even goes to the Soul Society to ask for Ginjo's body so he can give him a proper burial), but he's learned not to hold back and he's learned that new threats will appear and he'd rather have the power to face them head on.

So then comes TYBW, and Ichigo is facing battles head-on without hesitation. He goes straight to the "bad guys" with the intention of cutting them down. He learns the truth about who his Inner Hollow is, and he accepts it. He's even willing to accept whatever consequences may come from training in the Royal Palace and becoming stronger. He accepts his power and potential fully, and learns that he has what it takes to protect his loved ones with his strength, and not with a sacrifice.

Ultimately, he heals the part of himself that thinks his life is worth less than other people's. He heals the part of himself that blames himself for not protecting his mother (when he was 9!! Like come on Isshin, put the kid in therapy!! Anyway...) He grows into someone who knows his self worth. And I think, for me at least, that makes him one of my favourite protagonists of all time. Because can't most of us relate to feeling worthless at times? And don't we also wanna overcome that?

Thanks for reading my ramble lmao, I'm sure this could have been more elegantly written but I'm very sleepy and just wanted to get my thoughts out there.

[ryuzakistoe]

Could This Be? (Sae Itoshi x fem!reader)

angst, fluff, slow burn, Sae Itoshi, language, smut (heavy?) fem!reader, trigger warning, hopeless/over thinker reader..?, BTW THIS IS GONNA BE A LONGGG ONE.

Yeah there's fingering, orgasms, dominate Sae, big-cocked Sae, somewhat submissive reader?, dirty talk (somewhat?), y’know all the usual.

a/n: give me ideas for who and what to write about next please🙏 cuz I got nothing.

Also, sorry if I made any mistakes on here as I have had not checked for any spelling mistakes or anything. I rushed to try and get this published because well…yeah it’s been a while.

____

(no song for this sorry😢)

Love.

It’s something everyone craves. The warmth of comfort, the security of knowing someone is truly there for you. It’s that feeling of having someone by your side, someone you can open up to without fear of judgment. It’s knowing there’s a shoulder you can lean on when life feels heavy.

Who wouldn’t want that? Everyone longs for that one person who understands them deeply, who stands by them through everything. It’s a natural part of being human.

Yet, finding true love isn’t always easy. Lustful desires can cloud our vision, making it hard to distinguish between the fleeting thrill of lust and the enduring presence of love.

Lust satisfies only for a moment, but love—love endures.

Too often, people mistake lust for love, deceiving themselves into thinking the temporary excitement is something lasting. But in truth, love is far deeper, something that grows and remains, far beyond the surface.

They convince themselves that this so-called "love" they’re experiencing is genuine, when, in truth, it’s anything but.

Then, there are those who have never been loved properly at all. As humans, we often twist the meaning of "love," reshaping it into something that barely resembles true love.

It’s disgusting, really.

The world is far from perfect, and it’s filled with deceivers and liars who spread only flames of falsehood and venom. It’s painful to think that someone like you has crossed paths with these people.

Many have tried to explain what "love" is supposed to be—pleasure, satisfaction, joy, delight, even lust. They use these words to describe love, and it’s horrifying to see how they’ve mistaken and misrepresented it.

What they experienced wasn’t real love at all. Just a shallow, distorted version of something far deeper and truer.

It’s pitiful. The "love" they’ve experienced is etched so deeply into their minds that they believe it’s real. But it isn’t.

Love is so much more. It takes many shapes, each unique to the person, and it goes far beyond fleeting pleasure or satisfaction. Some have been led to believe otherwise, brainwashed into confusing love with something shallow and empty.

They’ve never truly experienced love.

And yet, you, too, fall into this category. You’ve never been loved as you deserved.

These days, it seems like all men want is sex and pleasure. Many of the men you’ve dated claimed to “love” you, but those words quickly unraveled into hollow promises. What they felt was just a lustful attraction, nothing more.

Your heart has been broken more than once by these pretenders, each time leaving you with more questions than answers.

One day, they’d say they loved you; the next, they’d avoid you entirely. And to think, you even lost your virginity to one of these fucking scums.

They left you shattered, vanishing the moment they got what they wanted.

One guy, in particular, slipped past your defenses, convincing you he was different—that he was actually worthy of this "love." He manipulated you in countless ways, claiming it was all in the name of love. He told you that having sex, intimacy, and leaving yourself vulnerable, was the ultimate proof of love.

You were conflicted, torn by doubt, but a deep need to be loved pushed you to trust him. Yet, the days that followed left you miserable and broken, as he cut off all contact after that night.

All you wanted was to be was loved…

One by one, each guy took what he wanted and left, only adding to the ache and emptiness.

You stopped believing in love and began to hate yourself in ways you never had before.

Was love even real? Was it just a fantasy made for movies and stories, something exaggerated beyond reality? No one could convince you otherwise. All those voices claiming to know what love is, how it’s supposed to feel—they seemed almost delusional to you now.

You found yourself pitying them, those blind and hopeless creatures, chasing an illusion you no longer believed in.

What a bunch of animals.

…🌺…

You worked at a small bakery not far from home. Despite everything going on, you couldn’t afford to be broke. Thankfully, this job gave you just enough to scrape by each week. Barely.

You took the night shifts for the extra pay—just in case. A car was out of the question on your income, but that didn’t matter much; work was only a short walk away.

What they didn’t pay you enough for, though, were the rude, bitchy, demanding customers who tested your patience daily. They complained, ordered you around, and acted as if you were their work-slave, to solely serve their every whim. You were surprised you hadn’t lost your mind by now—probably thanks to your coworker or best friend might I say.

“Heyyy, Y/nnie! How’s my favorite girl?” she called out, wrapping you up in a tight hug.

Her name was Yuko. Annoying and overly extroverted as she could be, though you were grateful to have her around.

Her dark, disheveled hair, bounced as she ran toward you. “Hey, Yuko…” you managed, barely able to breathe under her tight hug. Despite her size, she was surprisingly strong.

Yuko’s eyes widened as she realized she was squeezing the air out of you, and she quickly let go. “Ha… sorry, Y/n!” she muttered, rubbing the back of her neck in embarrassment.

“Nah, you’re fine, Yuko,” you said, smiling as you met her gaze.

Your first shift here had been lonely. You hadn’t bothered much with the other coworkers, and they hadn’t really reached out to you either. You’d all just been there to do the job—nothing more.

You hadn’t really minded keeping to yourself, never making an effort to connect with your coworkers. They hadn’t shown much interest in you, either.

Then came Yuko.

She approached you, eager to get to know you better—though, to be fair, she did that with everyone. She was friends with nearly all your coworkers, and now she’d set her sights on making you her next.

You couldn’t deny that her bold personality drew you in. Something about her was captivating, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Was it her loudness? Her confidence? Her outgoing spirit? Whatever it was, you felt yourself drawn to her.

And Yuko felt the same. She sensed there was something different about you, something intriguing, and that made her all the more determined to befriend you.

Who would have guessed that this mutual interest would spark such a strong friendship between the two of you?

You weren’t just another coworker to her—Yuko considered you her best friend. And, honestly, you felt the same way about her.

“I just couldn’t resist squeezing the life out of you, Y/n! You’re just so precious and adorable!” Yuko gushed, clasping her hands together with a loud smack.

“Yuko… you use that excuse every single day,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“Do I? Mmm, I don’t recall…” Yuko hummed, feigning innocence with a coy smile.

You let out a small huff, clearly seeing through her act. With a playful glare, you waited, knowing she’d slip up soon enough.

Sure enough, not even ten seconds passed before she let out a whine, squirming a little under your gaze. “Ah, Y/nnnnieee… how do you always figure me out?” she grumbled.

“You’re just that bad at lying, Yuko.” You chuckled softly, watching as she crossed her arms, giving you a mock-offended glare.

“I am not that bad at lying!” she retorted, pouting.

Lost in your banter, neither of you noticed the soft jingle of the bell signaling someone’s entrance.

“Sure, Yuko, whatever helps you sleep at night—”

“Are you going to take my order, or are you two just going to keep bickering?”

Both of you froze, turning toward the voice with wide eyes.

"Ah… my apologies, sir. Sorry for not paying attention," you muttered quickly, stepping over to the register to take his order.

The man let out a faint hum, as if to agree that yes, it was your fault. Inwardly, you stifled a groan—you could already tell he was going to be one of those bitchy customers.

"Anyway, what can I get for you, sir?" you asked, glancing up.

Your gaze lingered, almost unconsciously taking in his appearance, a habit you’d developed with customers. He had reddish-brown hair and a lean build, at least from what you could see. His eyes, a striking green-teal, were narrowed slightly, showing not a hint of emotion.

You almost paused, a bit envious of his long, dark lashes. What a lucky guy, you thought.

Overall, he gave off an air of indifference, like nothing around him could bother him in the slightest.

“A salted kombucha tea will do,” he replied, barely looking up from his phone.

“Anything else?” you asked, glancing up at him again.

He slipped his phone back into his pocket, meeting your gaze with an intensity that made it feel as if he was sizing you up, too.

“That’s all,” he said, hands shoved casually into his pockets.

You quickly typed in his order, breaking eye contact, though you could still feel the weight of his stare. It was… unsettling.

“And your name?” you asked, grabbing an empty cup, trying to brush off the strange tension.

“Sae Itoshi,” he muttered.

Sae Itoshi? The name struck a chord, tickling the back of your memory. You’d heard it somewhere before, but couldn’t quite place where.

“Alright, your drink will be ready shortly. If you could, please wait over there,” you said, gesturing toward the spot.

Sae’s gaze followed your hand, and without a word, he walked to the designated area.

With the empty cup in hand, you stepped away from the register and started preparing his drink. Just as you began brewing the tea, Yuko appeared at your side, looking as energetic as ever.

“Did I hear that right? That was Sae Itoshi?!” she practically shouted, wide-eyed as she leaned right into your face.

Already feeling the beginnings of a headache, you nudged her back. “Yeah, why are you so surprised?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Yuko looked at you like you’d just sprouted a second head.

“Are you serious, Y/n?” She scoffed, gripping your shoulders in exaggerated disbelief. “You call me clueless, but you don’t even know who Sae Itoshi is?”

“That, my dear Y/n, was none other than the Sae Itoshi—the famous football player!” Yuko exclaimed, rocking you back and forth.

No wonder the name had sounded so familiar. What were the odds that a famous soccer player would show up at a small bakery like yours?

“Okay, okay, you can let me go, Yuko!” you yelped, clutching the cup tightly to avoid spilling the drink.

Reluctantly, she released you but continued her excited rambling. “Do you realize how rare this is?” she squealed, practically sparkling with enthusiasm.

“Yeah, I guess it’s pretty rare,” you mumbled as you got back to preparing the drink, hoping she’d settle down.

But Yuko just stared at you, her expression twisting with utter disbelief. What’s with everyone staring today?

“The hell, Y/n? How are you not excited about this?! A famous athlete is literally in our shop right now! Out of everywhere, he chose here!” she ranted, poking the side of your head for emphasis.

You swatted her hand away. “Keep your voice down, Yuko,” you sighed, trying to focus.

But Yuko, unfazed, only leaned in closer. “And not only is he famous, he’s one of those hot athletes!” she gushed, ignoring your attempt to quiet her. “How can you stay calm when we’re literally in the presence of a sexy celebrity?”

You groaned, turning to face her. “Yuko, please. Let me finish this, okay? I really don’t need the noise right now.”

She huffed, dropping her shoulders dramatically. “Fine, whatever, Y/n. You’re so weird,” she muttered, leaning against the counter beside you.

A brief silence fell—until Yuko finally spoke up again. “So… how big do you think his dic—“

“Yuko!” you blurted, stopping her before she could finish.

“What? I’m just curious! Can’t you let a girl imagine these things?” she pouted, crossing her arms with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She knew you were already done with her antics.

“At least keep those thoughts to yourself, Yuko. And you call me weird,” you scoffed softly, snapping the lid onto the drink.

Yuko chuckled, clearly pleased with herself for getting under your skin. She lived for teasing you.

You took a steadying breath, picked up the tea, and headed over to Sae Itoshi, feeling a touch nervous to be serving someone so famous.

“Here’s your tea, sir,” you mumbled, holding the cup out to him.

He glanced up from his phone, his eyes settling on you as he reached for the drink. His fingers brushed against yours, warm and slightly rough, sending a surprising jolt through you. Shaking off the thought, you added, “That’ll be 595.31 yen.”

“Right.” He gave a soft hum and pulled out the exact amount, placing the yen in your hand before taking a sip.

You noticed his eyes widen just a fraction as he savored the tea, clearly caught off guard by the taste.

“This is surprisingly good for such a cheap drink,” he muttered, taking another sip.

You let out an irritated huff. Did he really have to say it like that?

“Glad it suits your taste buds,” you grumbled, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

He ignored your tone. “Did you make this yourself?” he asked, studying you with unexpected interest.

Caught off guard by the question, you raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I did. Why?”

His gaze held yours as he replied, “No reason. I just didn’t expect it to turn out this well.”

Another rude remark. Will you ever get a break from these customers?

He took another sip, looking mildly impressed. “I might reconsider coming by again for another cup. You make good tea—for a baker.”

You were sure steam was coming out of your ears by now. You just wanted him out of the shop. “Thanks, I guess,” you muttered, barely concealing your frustration.

“No problem,” he said nonchalantly, strolling out the door without a second glance.

You let out an aggravated sigh. The nerve of that guy.

Slumping your shoulders, you turned and headed back to where Yuko was waiting. The moment she spotted you, she practically skipped over.

“Sooo, Y/n, what’d you think? Pretty sexy, huh?” she laughed, leaning against your shoulder.

“Sure, I’ll admit he’s good-looking,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “But he’s an absolute jerk. Seriously, how do people put up with him?” You groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“Woah, woah, Y/nnie, what exactly happened?” Yuko asked, pulling back to look at you.

You sighed, pulling your hands away from your face. “He practically insulted me—multiple times. And I don’t even think he realized it.”

Yuko studied your face as you ranted, wide-eyed. Clearly, you were more annoyed than usual.

“Well, look on the bright side, Y/n—he probably won’t come back! …Sadly,” she added, mumbling the last part.

“About that…” you muttered, avoiding her gaze.

Yuko’s mouth dropped open, and she grabbed your face, forcing you to look at her. “You’re telling me he’s coming back?! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh—!”

“Yuko!” you exclaimed as she released her grip, realizing she’d been squeezing your face a little too hard.

“Sorry, Y/n,” she chuckled sheepishly, taking a step back. “But seriously—is he really coming back?” Her eyes were wide, fixed on you like a hawk.

“Well… yeah, he said he might, but I don’t know if he actually meant it,” you murmured, recalling Sae’s words.

Yuko let out an exaggerated groan, tugging at her hair. “Aww, come on, Y/n! Way to get my hopes up!”

“Sorry, Yuko,” you sighed. Not that you were actually sorry.

“Doesn’t mean he won’t, though! Ooh, maybe I can get his number too! I can already picture our future together—wonder how he looks naked in bed—”

“Yuko!” you shouted, interrupting her with a mix of surprise and annoyance.

“Just messing with you, Y/n!” Yuko cackled, wrapping you in a tight hug.

You couldn’t stand how easily she joked about such… lustful things, though you’d never admit it to her. It always made you uncomfortable.

“Aww, I love you, Y/n!” Yuko said dramatically, burying her head in your neck.

That, too, made your stomach turn. You hated it.

Why did everyone toss around the word "love" so casually, like it was just a meaningless phrase? You couldn’t wrap your head around it.

…🌺…

The soft, familiar comfort of your bed enveloped you as you collapsed onto the mattress. A sigh escaped your lips as you began to settle in for the night. It was already 12:05 AM, meaning your shift would start in just six hours.

You let out another sigh, staring at the ceiling, letting your thoughts wander.

Then, out of nowhere, Sae Itoshi’s face flashed in your mind.

Without thinking, you grabbed your phone and searched for his Instagram profile.

What the hell are you even doing?

You scrolled through his posts, which were mostly just photos of him scoring goals, looking effortlessly cool. What is wrong with you?

Your finger hovered over the screen as you clicked on his followers and the people he followed. It was a list of other famous football players, each name more recognizable than the last.

Are you out of your mind?

You navigated through all the social media apps, searching for his name, scrolling aimlessly.

Stop.

You froze, suddenly aware of what you were doing.

“What the hell am I doing?” you whispered to yourself, a wave of realization washing over you.

Why were you so fixated on finding Sae Itoshi online? Was he really that intriguing? Was he worth all this time and energy?

What exactly was so captivating about him?

You had no answers.

With a frustrated sigh, you closed out of every app that featured his name and set your phone down beside your bed. You plugged it in to charge, then wrapped yourself tightly in your blanket.

But despite the warmth, sleep eluded you. Instead, you lay wide-eyed, staring at the ceiling.

What made you do this? Why was Sae Itoshi still on your mind?

Why were you suddenly so desperate to know who he was?

You let out a weary groan, squeezing your eyes shut, hoping sleep would finally drown out the endless questions swirling in your mind.

And after what felt like an eternity, it finally worked. Your thoughts began to fade, and sleep claimed you.

…🌺…

“Well then, Y/nnie, who’s excited to see Sae Itoshi?! I know I am!” Yuko exclaimed, practically bouncing with energy.

“Sometimes you’re too much, Yuko,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

As expected, Yuko was absolutely ecstatic about the prospect of seeing Sae Itoshi again. But could you say the same? You weren’t so sure.

“Come on, Y/n! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! You’ve got to make the most of it!” Yuko urged, clasping her hands around yours with a grin.

“Well, I’d like to make use of my lifetime not obsessing over some famous football player,” you sighed, trying to sound indifferent.

What a lie.

“Gosh, you’re so boring, Y/n!” Yuko huffed, releasing her grip on you. “You’re hopeless,” she added with a teasing tone.

You scoffed. “Me, hopeless? I’m just trying to make enough money to survive out here,” you grumbled.

“Aren’t we all?” Yuko replied, taking a step away from you and heading off to serve other customers.

You sighed, watching her go, then rested your elbows on the counter in the back. Your phone came out of your pocket, and you began scrolling through social media absentmindedly.

Then, once again, that all-too-familiar thought of him crept into your mind.

What is happening to you?

You found yourself on his Instagram page, scrolling through his posts without even realizing it.

Just then, you heard a voice—one you knew all too well.

“You must have a really hard time noticing your customers waiting.”

Your eyes widened in shock. You quickly whipped your head up, and there he was—that stupid jerk—standing right at the register, waiting for you to take his order.

Sae Itoshi…

You quickly turned off your phone, hoping he hadn’t caught you scrolling through his profile just moments before.

Taking a deep breath, you walked up to the register, forcing a neutral expression.

“The same thing?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah,” Sae replied, his tone as calm as ever.

With just one word from him, you got to work, preparing his tea with a practiced speed.

It didn’t take long, and within less than 10 minutes, his drink was ready.

“That’ll be—”

“Here.”

Sae handed you the money without missing a beat, then swiftly took the drink from your hands, taking a slow sip.

A satisfied sigh escaped him as he swallowed, clearly enjoying the tea.

You couldn’t help but watch him, eyes lingering on the way he drank.

This guy…

Noticing your stare, he pulled the cup away from his lips and casually spoke, “Y’know, instead of just wandering around looking at my page, you could always just follow me.”

His voice was quiet, almost teasing, but you couldn’t tell if he was joking or serious.

Nonetheless, your eyes widened at his words.

Fuck…he caught you.

“Uh… yeah, I’ll keep that in mind…” you mumbled awkwardly, the words barely escaping your lips.

You could feel your face burning with embarrassment. This is so humiliating.

Then, just as you were trying to regain some composure, Sae spoke again.

“Give me your phone.”

His words hit you like a punch. What the hell? Why would he want your phone?

“May I ask why?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, the confusion evident in your voice.

“I just want to see something,” he replied, his tone flat and unreadable.

You should’ve known better. You shouldn’t give a stranger your phone. It was basic knowledge, after all. But something about his calm, indifferent demeanor made you hesitate.

Strange, you thought, but you didn’t argue.

With a subtle sigh, you pulled your phone from your back pocket, unlocked it, and handed it to him.

Sae swiftly swiped your phone from your hand, his fingers moving quickly as he typed something and tapped on the screen.

“Here,” he said, handing the device back to you.

You took your phone, still confused, and looked up at him. He met your gaze with a calm, unreadable expression.

Without thinking, you broke the eye contact and immediately glanced at what he had done on your phone.

Your eyes widened.

You were now following Sae Itoshi.

"You needed my phone for this?" you asked, your voice laced with confusion as you shifted your gaze back to him.

He took in your baffled expression, his head tilted slightly.

“Yeah, it’s not that hard to click ‘follow,’” he replied nonchalantly, his tone almost taunting.

You glared at him, feeling a frustrated vein pulse at your temple.

Did he really not care how he affected people?

Actually nevermind. He probably didn't.

Now, you were really starting to believe that people probably were paid to put up with this egotistical jerk.

“Whatever. Is that all you needed?” you asked, forcing the frustration down as best as you could.

It was getting harder and harder to ignore his blunt, cutting words.

“Yeah, i guess.” Sae shrugged, his eyes drifting away from you to inspect the decorations and furniture around the shop.

You let out a quiet sigh of relief, grateful that he wasn’t pushing any further.

But, of course, Sae caught it.

His gaze snapped back to you, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “What? You that eager for me to leave?”

“Somewhat,” you replied, not even hesitating.

Sae’s eyes narrowed slightly as he processed your blunt answer. His brow quirked, clearly not expecting such a direct response. He shrugged it off casually.

“Too bad. I’m coming back.”

Naturally, that soured your mood tenfold. But, oddly enough, you didn’t feel as annoyed as you’d expected hearing those words.

Odd…

"If you're done ordering, please step out of line," you sighed, shoulders slumping. You were already growing tired of his antics.

"Didn’t even get a chance to check this place out, and you’re already kicking me out? What poor customer service," Sae commented casually, holding up his empty cup in front of you. "Might as well throw this away for me, yeah? Thanks." His tone was light, as if he barely noticed how much he was testing your patience.

You let out a frustrated grumble, muttering under your breath as you snatched the cup from his hand, shooting him a glare before turning to the trash can.

Just as you tossed it away, you looked up to see Sae already strolling out, unbothered.

You felt yourself visibly relax as Sae’s figure disappeared from sight.

Seriously, could that guy be any more irritating?

But your brief moment of relief didn’t last.

"Y/NNIEEE!"

Perfect—just what you needed.

"Ah, my beautiful Y/n, how did your date go with Sae Itoshi?!" Yuko teased, a mischievous grin on her face as she draped an elbow over your shoulder.

"Really, Yuko?" you groaned, nudging her off.

"What? Didn’t go as planned?" Yuko pouted dramatically, raising her hands to her face and pretending to wipe away imaginary tears.

"Sometimes, Yuko, you do too much," you mumbled, glaring at her, hoping the hint of annoyance in your tone would get through.

"Y/n, you’re such a peculiar one. Most girls would go crazy by just seeing that guy! I mean, every time I catch a glimpse of him, my heart practically explodes!" Yuko rambled on, forming a heart with her hands and placing it over her chest, mimicking a rapid heartbeat.

"C'mon, Yuko, you know why—" you paused mid-sentence.

She didn’t know. Yuko didn’t know about the pieces of your past you’d left unspoken, buried somewhere you hoped no one would find.

She didn’t know about the heartbreaks you’d endured, the ones that had chipped away at you until even the thought of love felt distant, hollow. She didn’t know about the countless nights spent piecing yourself back together, the silent battles, the disappointments that had left scars no one could see.

Yuko didn’t know about the lies you’d had to believe, the ones that wrapped around you until you could hardly tell where the truth ended and the facade began. She had no idea how those things had worn you down, until something as simple as liking—or even loving someone, felt like too much to ask.

No, she didn’t know any of it. You’d never told her. And maybe you never would.

"Huh? No, I don’t know why. What do you mea—"

"Oh, uh, never mind, it’s nothing," you said quickly, cutting her off, hoping she wouldn’t pick up on the edge in your voice.

But you knew Yuko wasn’t stupid. You could feel her gaze linger on you, her eyes clouded with confusion and curiosity, studying you, knowing something was going on.

Yet, she knew when to let things be.

"Alright, if you say so, Y/n," Yuko murmured softly, letting it drop.

You looked away, voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah."

You exhaled, feeling a small release as her gaze finally drifted from you.

"Anyway, I’ll get back to my shift, Y/n. Talk to you later!" Yuko said with a small smile as she started to walk away, her curiosity saved for another time.

You gave her a quiet nod and returned to your work. Just a couple more hours, and you’d finally be able to go home.

…🌺…

Here you were, lying in bed, getting ready to drift into a deep slumber.

Slipping into your nightwear, you wrapped yourself snugly in your blanket, instantly enveloped in warmth and comfort. Reaching for your phone on the nightstand, you lazily glanced at your notifications.

“Sae Itoshi is now following you.”

Your breath hitched. For a moment, you thought you were imagining things. Was this real?

Heart pounding, you tapped on your profile and checked your followers.

Nope, it wasn’t a mistake. It was real.

But how? How did he even know your name?

Oh. Right. The nametag.

You tossed your phone aside with a sigh, sinking deeper into your bed.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint what you were feeling. There was happiness, maybe even excitement, but it was tangled up with annoyance and a faint thread of confusion.

Why would he follow you? He didn’t seem like the type to care about someone like you. It didn’t make sense.

But the real question lingered: how did you feel about all of this?

It was strange. These emotions felt foreign, like opening a book you hadn’t touched in years. And yet, they felt… good. Comforting, in a way.

But also terrifying.

You couldn’t remember the last time you let yourself feel like this. What if it led to the same pain, the same destruction? Wasn’t it safer to keep your guard up, to not let anyone in?

“The hell are you doing to me,” you groaned, burying your face into your pillow, trying to escape the overwhelming storm of emotions crashing over you.

…🌺…

"Let me guess—the same thing?"

"Yeah."

You let out a small sigh, already knowing the routine as you headed to the back to prepare his drink.

He came in every day, like clockwork. It was almost comforting in its predictability, though he never switched things up—always the same drink, no pastries, nothing else.

As you handed him his order, you asked, "Do you want anything else, or…?" You already knew the answer but asked anyway, half out of habit, half hoping for a surprise.

"No," he replied flatly, his tone as cutting as ever. "Though it’s pretty stupid of you to even ask. I mean, isn’t it obvious by now? I get the same thing every day."

Ah, yes. Classic Sae. Always quick with the unnecessary criticism. What a great way to dampen your already mediocre morning.

"Well," you muttered, brushing off his remark with a hint of irritation, "it’s just that you always get the same thing. Don’t you ever want to try something else?"

Your tone betrayed your annoyance, but honestly, could anyone blame you?

"If I wanted something else, I would’ve asked for it already, don’t you think?"

Now he was just being a smartass.

"I get that," you scoffed, barely holding back your frustration, "but wouldn’t you want to at least try something different?" Your fists clenched at your sides, a subtle outlet for the irritation bubbling inside you.

Sae paused, his gaze steady as he studied you for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he finally said, "If I buy something else, will you stop nagging me about it?"

"I mean… I guess?" you replied, your uncertainty creeping into your voice. A simple "yes" felt too eager, but saying "no" would make it sound like you were intent on pestering him forever. You weren't a begger. Especially not to him.

Sae gave a curt nod and glanced at the display, scanning the selection before pointing at a pastry. "That one looks decent."

Your gaze followed his finger to the pastry in question. "Alright, then," you said, moving to grab a paper bag. Carefully, you placed the pastry inside, sealed it up, and handed it to him.

"That’ll be 645.87 yen," you muttered, barely meeting his eyes as you extended your hand. He handed you the money without a word, his expression unreadable as ever.

You let out a relieved sigh, assuming this was the part where Sae would leave, as he usually did.

Usually.

Just as you thought your morning might finally return to normal, Sae took a step, then stopped and turned back to face you.

You blinked, confused. Wasn’t he done here? Apparently not.

“Before I forget,” he began, his unwavering gaze fixed on you, “I have a match coming up against this program called Blue Lock. I want you to come watch.”

Your eyes widened slightly, your mouth parting in disbelief.

Did he just… personally invite you to his game?

“Wait… what?” you mumbled, still trying to process his words.

He let out an exasperated sigh, his expression tinged with impatience. “I said I want you to come to my match. You’re not deaf, are you?”

And just like that, your initial shock morphed into irritation.

Great. Just great.

“Well, can you blame me? It’s not every day a famous player invites someone they barely know,” you grumbled, narrowing your eyes at him.

Sae shrugged, resting a hand on his hip. “I don’t have anyone else to invite,” he admitted casually. “Besides, you’re not all that bad to talk to.”

Your eyebrow shot up. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you murmured, your tone skeptical.

He met your gaze without hesitation. “You’re someone I enjoy talking to. I’m sick of people who act all formal and fake around me, putting on some persona just because of who I am.” His voice was steady, almost nonchalant. “Not to mention the crazy fans. It’s exhausting.”

He paused, then added, “It’s refreshing talking to someone who doesn’t act like that.”

You didn’t know how to respond. Was he being serious? Judging by his expression, he didn’t seem like the type to lie about something like this.

Your chest tightened, your heartbeat picking up speed.

Were you nervous? Happy? Flustered?

It was hard to tell—everything about this felt foreign, yet oddly familiar. It left you feeling strangely vulnerable.

“Our conversations are also quite pleasant,” Sae added, his tone as flat as ever.

You blinked, your expression instantly deadpan. Did he really just call our “conversations” pleasant?

What a ridiculous statement. The only thing you two ever did was bicker—and by bicker, you meant he annoyed you to no end. Pleasant? Hardly.

You let out a sigh, equal parts confused and exasperated, before replying, “Sure, Sae. I’ll accept your invite.”

The words left your mouth before you could really think about them. Why had you said yes? You could’ve said no—you should’ve said no. That would’ve been the normal response. The usual you response.

But instead, you’d said the opposite.

Strange.

What’s been up with you lately?

"I'll text you the details," Sae said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

And with that, he finally left, pastry in hand, leaving you to process the whirlwind of emotions he'd stirred up.

…🌺…

One day.

The match against Blue Lock Eleven was just one day away.

It was strange—this was the first football match you’d ever been excited about, and honestly, it didn’t feel like you at all. You’d never cared much for sports. Until now.

Was it the thrill of having a big shot like Sae personally invite you to one of his games? Or was it the curiosity of experiencing a live sports match for the first time?

Probably a little bit of both.

But alongside the excitement, there was something else. Nerves.

Actually, scratch that—you were really nervous.

You’d have to go alone—not that being alone bothered you most of the time, but this was different. It would’ve been better to bring a friend.

Maybe Yuko? She could always go, right?

But then again, Sae had personally invited you. That probably meant he’d already arranged for a seat—most likely close to the field. And with how packed the stadium would be, there’d hardly be any open seats nearby. Everyone would be scrambling to get as close as possible.

You groaned, letting your head hang low in frustration.

Looked like you’d just have to suck it up.

“What’s got you looking so down in the dumps?”

You lifted your head, only to be met with none other than Yuko herself.

Speak of the devil.

"Nothing much. Just… thinking," you replied, straightening up to regain your composure.

Yuko raised an eyebrow and stepped closer, stopping just within arm's reach. "About what?"

"Just about an upcoming game," you murmured quietly, crossing your arms as you tried to mask your nerves.

"Why would you be stressed over a game?" Yuko asked, her expression turning confused as she looked at you.

You sighed, feeling the weight of your thoughts. It wouldn’t hurt to tell her, right?

"Well, it’s just that Sae Itoshi invited me to watch one of his games and—"

"WHAT?!" Yuko screamed, cutting you off mid-sentence.

You immediately felt your face flush in embarrassment as her loud shout turned every customer and employee's attention toward you both.

"Yuko! Keep it down!" you hissed, quickly covering her mouth to stop any further outbursts.

"Sborrey," Yuko mumbled, her voice muffled as you kept your hand over her mouth.

You slowly pulled your hand away, gripping her shoulders as you gave her a stern look. "Yuko… please don't shout like that," you grumbled, scolding her gently.

"Mmm, I’ll try," she awkwardly chuckled, a sweatdrop forming on her forehead.

"Anyway… what about Sae Itoshi?" Yuko whispered loudly, leaning so close to your face that you could feel her breath.

"I said, Sae Itoshi invited me to one of his games," you repeated, trying to stay calm.

She froze for a moment, eyes wide. "He… he personally invited you?!" Her voice trailed off in disbelief as she spoke loudly.

"Yuko!" You shot her a glare, but before you could speak again, she broke into a grin that looked almost too wide.

"Yes, he personally invited me," you murmured, now feeling even more awkward under her intense gaze.

"Oh my gosh… OH MY GOSH! Y/n, do you have any idea how lucky you are?!" Yuko practically shouted, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Any girl would kill to have THE Sae Itoshi invite them to his game! How’d you do it? Did you seduce him? Or did you promise him se-”

"Yuko!" you shouted, quickly cutting off whatever inappropriate thought was about to escape her lips.

"Sorry, Y/n… but seriously, tell me! How?" Yuko urged, clasping her hands together with excitement.

You looked away, scratching your chin, before meeting her gaze again. "Well, he just said he enjoyed talking to me and then invited me," you said, trying to downplay the whole thing.

Yuko’s expression immediately dropped, and she stared at you, incredulous. "Are you kidding me? That's it? No love confession or anything?"

"Um… no," you replied, still staring at her, not entirely sure how to react to her reaction.

"Ugh, that's so lame!" Yuko huffed, tugging at her hair in frustration. "Y/n, I thought you were better than this!"

"What do you mean—?"

"Never mind!" Yuko cut you off with an exasperated sigh. "Well, regardless, this is the first time I’ve heard of Sae Itoshi taking an interest in someone he barely knows enough to invite them to his game." She grinned mischievously, raising her eyebrows up and down as she looked you over.

"Yeah… I was kind of shocked myself," you replied, brushing off her teasing with a nonchalant shrug.

"He's definitely interested in you, Y/n!" Yuko exclaimed, grabbing hold of your arm in excitement.

You deadpanned, staring at her in disbelief. Really? The Sae Itoshi, interested in you? What a joke.

But even as you dismissed it, you couldn’t help but wonder. Why had he invited you? Sure, maybe it was because he enjoyed talking to someone who wasn’t fawning over him like the rest of the world, but was that really all?

Is that really all it took?

"You're funny, Yuko," you murmured, gently shaking her off.

"Aww, c’mon, Y/nnnieee!" Yuko whined, practically bouncing on her feet. "He invited you! He could’ve picked anyone else who was 'sane,' but he chose you!" She emphasized the word sane with a teasing grin.

"Yuko, you’re just making this into something it’s not. It’s probably nothing," you said, brushing it off as you started to move away and continue your shift.

If Yuko could, she would have slapped some sense into you.

She hated when you were this oblivious. "You’re hopeless, Y/n," Yuko groaned, shaking her head as she let you do your thing.

With that, Yuko left, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Great. Now her words were swirling in your mind, filled with what ifs.

It felt strange—almost disorienting—as your heartbeat quickened along with the rise of these thoughts.

This was definitely not like you. It only made you feel more stressed and confused.

Maybe Yuko was right. You really were hopeless.

Although who could blame you, after everything you've been through?

…🌺…

SAE! SAE! SAE! SAE!" The crowd roared his name, their voices blending into a thunderous chant as the prodigy scored the first goal.

You were completely mesmerized, entranced by his skill. For a moment, you forgot all about the nerves that had been eating at you since this morning.

…(right before the match)…

Come on, Y/N, you'll be fine," Yuko had said earlier, her tone reassuring. "But what if I get lost?" you had asked, chewing on your lip. "I highly doubt that," she replied with a smirk.

Yuko had been trying to comfort you as she drove up to the entrance of the stadium. Since you didn’t have a car, she’d offered to drop you off. Out of the kindness of her heart, she even gave you a full pep talk on the way.

You sighed, sinking further into the passenger seat. "I just don’t get why you can’t take the day off and come with me," you murmured.

Rolling her eyes, Yuko shot you a look. "Y/N, I have another job. I don’t exactly have the luxury to tag along with you today.”

You knew about Yuko's other job. She had told you just yesterday when you asked her to come with you. Still, the idea of navigating a building packed with thousands of people on your own felt overwhelming.

"As much as I love you, Y/N... you need to get out of my car. I'm going to be late," Yuko said, leaning over to push open the passenger-side door.

The word love made you flinch slightly. You weren’t used to hearing it, at least not like that.

"Yuko..." you mumbled, watching her gesture impatiently at the open door.

"Y/N, you’re going to be fine," she said with a firm but reassuring tone. "Just ask someone for directions!"

You hesitated for a moment before sighing. "Fine. Since when did you want me gone so badly?" you asked, feigning offense as you shot her a playful glare.

"Ever since you started making me late!" Yuko shot back, her voice exasperated but light. "Come on, Y/N!"

She kept nudging you to get out, her urgency growing by the second. Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but laugh a little as you finally stepped out of the car.

"Okay, okay!" you chuckled softly as you finally stepped out of Yuko's car.

You shut the door with a solid slam and turned toward the stadium entrance. Glancing back one last time, you caught Yuko waving at you before she drove off. A frown crept onto your face as your attention shifted to the massive doors ahead.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped inside. Instantly, it felt as though someone was twisting your insides. The nerves hit hard.

You wandered through the bustling halls, clutching your ticket like it was a lifeline. But the moment you found your seat, it was like someone flipped a switch. All those negative emotions—gone, replaced by excitement and anticipation.

_______

“GO SAE!" you shouted along with the crowd as he made a goal, cupping your hands around your mouth as if that would make your voice reach him. Deep down, you knew he couldn’t possibly hear you over the deafening roar of the fans chanting his name.

Still, you couldn’t help but grin. You hadn’t expected to enjoy this, not really. But here you were, caught up in the moment, cheering louder than you thought possible.

You smiled, your gaze fixed on the prodigy dominating the field. Admiration filled you, though you couldn’t tell if it was just for his skill—or if there was something more.

From your reserved seat—the one he had bought for you—you watched him intently. And then his eyes found yours.

Your breath hitched as Sae locked eyes with you. The moment stretched, and the longer it did, the warmer you felt, your cheeks heating under his piercing stare. Was that a good thing?

Your palms grew clammy, your heart racing wildly in your chest. And then, just as you thought the intensity might be too much, he smirked. It was a sly, almost teasing look, as if to say, Did you see that?

Your eyes widened slightly as you took in his expression. For the first time, you saw something beyond boredom or disinterest—even anger—on his face. It was subtle, but it was there—a spark of something you couldn’t quite name.

Still, you preferred this over his usual expressionless gaze. That smirk, that piercing look—it made you feel something.

But as much as you enjoyed it, you hated it too. It felt familiar, painfully so. And familiar wasn’t safe. It was dangerous.

You’d felt this way before, and it hadn’t ended well. It left you shattered, broken in ways you swore you’d never let happen again. You couldn’t afford to risk those consequences a second time.

Forcing yourself to breathe deeply, you tried to steady your thoughts, keeping your composure as you held his gaze. Part of you wanted him to look away, to release you from the unspoken tension. Yet another part... didn’t.

It was as if the gods decided for you when Sae finally turned his attention back to the field.

You exhaled sharply, feeling your heart begin to slow. But even as relief washed over you, those lingering feelings—the ones you tried so hard to suppress—still churned within, refusing to let go.

It seemed these lingering "feelings" would take their time to fade, refusing to settle easily.

_______

“Come on, just give me your number, pretty boy!"

Sae didn’t even acknowledge the man’s bold remark, brushing it off as if it hadn’t been said.

Your attention shifted to the source of the comment—a guy with blond hair, the tips dyed pink. He stood out, to say the least. Odd, maybe, but he certainly wasn’t shy.

The game was already in its second half, and you felt more alive and energized than ever. You never imagined you’d enjoy something like this—not in a million years.

The next match was about to start, and you could feel the tension crackling in the air. It radiated from the players on the field and the roaring crowd around you.

They were tied.

This next goal could decide it all.

You sat on the edge of your seat, anticipation coursing through you. Deep down, you hoped for U-20 to win.

Not that you cared too much about the outcome—your loyalty was simple. Sae was on U-20, and he was the only reason you even knew about the team.

Your eyes widened as the player named Shidou seamlessly linked up with Sae. Together, they were nothing short of monsters. Their aggressive, fast-paced gameplay was unmatched, almost unreal. With every precise pass and powerful stride, they closed in on the goal.

But fate had other plans.

In a sudden turn of events, Blue Lock Eleven intercepted the ball. Before you could fully process what was happening, a player named Isagi launched the final shot.

The ball hit the back of the net.

For a heartbeat, the stadium fell silent. Then, chaos erupted—screams, cheers, and a deafening roar from the crowd.

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The tension had gripped you so tightly it felt as though the game had you in a chokehold. It was exhilarating—every second of it.

As the crowd began to disperse, you quickly gathered your belongings. But before heading out to meet Yuko, you decided there was one thing you had to do. You needed to see Sae.

Walking down the hallways, you peeked into every room, hoping to find Sae in one of them.

By the time you reached the last door, there was still no sign of him. Where the hell was he?

Letting out a frustrated huff, you pulled your head back and turned to leave. But before you could take another step, you bumped into someone.

"Ah—I'm sorry! Please forgive me, I wasn't paying attenti—"

"Do you always apologize this much, or what?"

You froze. That voice—of course, you knew that voice.

Your head snapped up, and sure enough, there he was. Sae.

"Oh, it’s just you," you said, letting out a breath. "I’ve been looking for you."

"For what?" Sae asked, his sharp gaze fixed on you, his tone as unreadable as ever.

Was he really this dense?

"To congratulate you. Why else?" you said, arching a brow at him.

Sae locked eyes with you, and once again, your heart betrayed you, picking up speed as the silence stretched. Finally, he spoke.

"What’s there to congratulate? We lost," he said flatly.

"Still, you played well," you replied earnestly.

"I guess," Sae muttered, his tone dismissive.

Your jaw tightened. Somehow, he always found a way to get under your skin.

"Could you show a little more gratitude than just ‘I guess’?" you grumbled, shifting your weight onto one foot, irritation bubbling over.

"And what do you want me to say?" he asked, his sharp eyes glancing over your figure.

"A simple ‘thank you’ would be nice," you shot back, your tone dripping with frustration.

Sae stood there, quiet for a moment. Then, in a low voice, he murmured, "Thank you."

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to catch you off guard.

You couldn’t help but smile at his response. “That’s much better. See? It wasn’t that hard, was it?” you teased, your smile unwavering.

Sae took in your smile, then shot back with a snarky reply, “What, do you want me to pick an answer that’ll satisfy you?”

Your smile faltered, and you stared at him, baffled. What was his deal? “Never mind... forget I said anything,” you muttered, letting out a sharp sigh.

A heavy silence fell between you both. It lingered, uncomfortable, as neither of you knew what to say next.

Just as you were about to break the silence, Sae spoke first

“Its best if i get goi-“

“Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?”

Sae quickly mumbled as he cut you off, his voice quieter than usual, almost as if he regretted asking.

You blinked, stunned, processing his words slowly. “Huh?” you whispered, your heart skipping a beat. It took a moment for the question to fully sink in. Did he really just ask you that?

Did Sae Itoshi—the Sae Itoshi—just ask you out to dinner?

You stood there, unsure whether you had heard him correctly, your mind racing. Sae, the same guy who had been so indifferent and sharp with you, was now asking you to dinner? The idea felt so out of place, yet somehow, it didn’t seem like a joke.

The silence stretched again, and you wondered if he was waiting for your response.

“Uh, Sae, can I ask why?" you muttered, still reeling from shock.

Sae let out an irritated grumble before responding. "I said it before, didn’t I? You’re the only person who doesn’t go crazy over me. Is it wrong to want some company?" His tone made it clear he was turning this back on you.

"Well, not exactly, no—"

"Then why is it such a problem for you?" he interrupted sharply.

You stood there, staring at him, utterly confused. Why was he blaming you now?

"It’s not a problem," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "It’s just… surprising, that’s all."

But Sae wasn’t ready to let it go. "Why is it such a shocker?" His agitation was growing more obvious.

"It’s not—actually, never mind," you sighed, feeling the frustration creeping in.

You knew this conversation wasn’t going anywhere, and continuing would only make things worse.

Sae let out a satisfied hum, as if your response had confirmed everything he wanted to hear.

Silence crept back in, heavy and uncomfortable. You shifted your gaze elsewhere, refusing to look at him. Something about meeting his eyes made your stomach swirl uneasily.

It was the opposite for Sae, though. His piercing gaze stayed locked on you, sharp and unrelenting like a hawk stalking its prey. He hadn’t looked away from you once.

"So? Your answer?" Sae’s voice cut through the quiet, calm yet demanding.

You responded quickly, almost too quickly. "Uh, yeah. I can. Sure.

Sae's eyes narrowed slightly. You hadn’t even looked at him when you spoke, and for some reason, that ticked him off.

"Why don’t you look at me when I’m talking to you?" he asked, his voice laced with irritation. It was clear he wasn’t just annoyed—he was genuinely angry.

Wow. What a way to cross boundaries, huh?

Still, he had a point.

Why weren’t you looking at him? Why did your palms feel clammy when he stood so close? Why did your heart race like it was trying to escape your chest? Why were you all fidgety?

It couldn’t possibly mean you liked him.

No, of course not. You were just… nervous. Right?

It had to be nerves. This was the longest time any guy had spoken to you, after all. Most of them usually got what they wanted and left.

Actually, thinking about that now made you feel ridiculous—like you were some kind of attention seeker.

Or maybe it was because you felt so small, so insignificant, under the weight of his gaze. His presence was overwhelming, suffocating—a constant reminder of how much larger than life he was. A big shot. Someone untouchable.

And yet, that only made you feel more pathetic.

But what did you really feel?

Maybe—just maybe—he had grown on you. Maybe you had caught feelings. But was it because he stayed longer than anyone else ever had? That thought alone made you feel queasy. It felt wrong.

Desperate.

Attention seeker.

The words echoed in your mind like a cruel whisper. You hated the sound of it. You didn’t want that to be the truth.

But what if you did like him? What if it wasn’t just nerves, or loneliness, or some desperate grasp at the closest thing to affection?

You’d considered the possibility, of course. You weren’t naïve enough to ignore it. But you refused to let it be true.

You weren’t ready—not for this, not for him, not for the chance of heartbreak all over again.

You’d been through it countless times before. And you weren’t sure you could survive it again.

If that’s how you felt—if you really did like him—but he ended up taking what he wanted and leaving like all the others… would you even be able to pick up the pieces this time?

The thought alone was unbearable, and it crushed any shred of hope you might have clung to.

It dampened your mood, dragging it into a deeper, darker place. You wanted to pull back, retreat while you still could. But it was too late now.

"Did you even hear me? What’s up with you and being deaf?"

His sharp tone cut through your thoughts, snapping you back to the present. The weight of your emotions dulled, if only for a moment, as irritation took their place.

"I'm not deaf," you muttered, your voice dripping with frustration.

"I doubt that," Sae shot back without missing a beat.

Resentment bubbled inside you, but before you could fully process it, Sae’s voice broke through again. "At least you’re looking at me now."

That stopped you cold.

He was right. You were looking at him now.

Your emotions screeched to a halt, forced into submission by the weight of his words. You didn’t even realize when you’d started meeting his gaze, but now there you were, staring back at him.

It felt like standing in the middle of a battlefield, with nowhere left to run.

"That aside, what time should I pick you up?" Sae asked casually, as if the question was of no real importance to him.

Your eyes widened. Right… you’d agreed to the dinner he offered.

"Uh… anytime in the afternoon is fine," you mumbled, struggling to find your voice.

"5:30 then?" he suggested, his tone as nonchalant as ever.

"Yeah, that should work," you nodded, quickly running through your mental schedule.

"See you on Sunday, then," Sae said abruptly before turning on his heel and walking off, his dismissal clear.

"Yeah… Sunday," you murmured softly, even though you knew he couldn’t hear you. He was already out the door.

The moment he left, you let out an exhausted sigh, your body finally relaxing. You hadn’t even realized how stiff you’d been.

But before you could fully unwind, your phone buzzed in your pocket. With a weary hand, you pulled it out, unsure of what—or who—was waiting for you now.

"Yuko 🤡."

The contact name flashed across your screen, pulling you out of your thoughts. Right—Yuko was supposed to pick you up.

You stared at the screen for a moment before silencing the call, deciding not to answer. There wasn’t much to say anyway, and your head felt too cluttered to hold a conversation right now.

Shoving the phone back into your pocket, you hurried toward the exit. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if the weight of the earlier exchange with Sae was dragging behind you.

You needed air. You needed to think. And maybe—just maybe—a way to stop the relentless pounding in your chest.

_______

As you stepped out of the building, the familiar sound of Yuko’s voice greeted you.

"Why didn’t you answer my call?!" she exclaimed, leaning halfway out the driver’s side window, her dramatic tone impossible to miss.

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a tired smile. "What about it? I’m here now, aren’t I? Be grateful I even saw your call."

Yuko gasped, hand to her chest as if deeply offended. "The audacity!"

You chuckled softly, shaking your head as you opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat. Her over-the-top antics were a welcome distraction from the weight still lingering in your chest.

"Sooo," she began, eyes glinting with curiosity as she waited for the seatbelt to click, "how was the game?"

"It was good," you replied, sinking into the seat as the exhaustion caught up to you. "Better than I expected."

Yuko hummed, pulling onto the road, but her sideways glance told you she wasn’t entirely convinced by your answer.

"Better than you expected, huh? Was it because Sae Itoshi was there?" Yuko teased, her grin wide as she navigated the familiar route to your beloved sanctuary—home.

You groaned, tilting your head against the seat to glare at her. "No, it wasn’t just because he was there," you grumbled, your tone sharp enough to match your annoyance.

"Oh, really? Well, if you say so…" she chuckled, clearly not buying it.

"Believe what you want, Yuko," you huffed, rolling your eyes. You knew she wouldn’t let it go, but you were too drained to argue.

"Okay, okay," she said, feigning surrender before flashing you another sly glance. "So, if it’s not because of Sae—according to you—what made it better than you expected?"

Her words hung in the air for a moment.

You hesitated, staring out the window as you mulled over her question. The truth was painfully obvious: it was mostly because of Sae. But you’d rather bite your tongue than admit that out loud.

Finally, you hummed, masking your thoughts. “The players were really skilled, and the game was super intense. I was honestly very impressed by their amazing footwork.”

Yuko raised an eyebrow, sparing you a glance as she drove. "Mmm-hmm. Sure, it was all about their footwork," she said, her tone dripping with playful disbelief.

You crossed your arms and leaned back, determined to let the conversation end there. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

You weren’t lying about the players’ skill. They really did keep you on the edge of your seat, and the game had been incredible.

"But damn… now you’re making me regret not going," Yuko groaned, dramatically slumping her head onto the steering wheel. Luckily, you were stopped at a red light. "Having more than one job sucks!"

You laughed, unable to help yourself. "It was a fun game," you admitted, watching her over-the-top display.

Yuko sighed heavily, the light turning green as she straightened up and began driving again. "Rub it in why don’t you," she muttered, though her grin betrayed her fake annoyance.

It didn’t take long for the car to fill with her usual nonsense—playful jabs, ridiculous theories, and random observations that seemed to come out of nowhere.

You quarreled the whole way home, with her spouting dumb, shitty jokes and exaggerated stories, while you did your best to tolerate it—barely. Still, there was a comfort in the banter, her chatter distracting you from the quiet heaviness that had lingered after Sae.

By the time you pulled into your driveway, you felt lighter, even if just a little.

…🌺…

Seeing the taillights of her car disappear into the night, you let out a heavy sigh and dropped onto the couch. The weight of the evening pressed down on you as you tossed the apartment keys onto the coffee table. The sharp jingle and dull clack of metal meeting wood cut through the silence, a momentary distraction as you sank deeper into the plush cushions.

Your expression darkened, a frown tugging at the corners of your lips. Why? Why was it always Sae that haunted your thoughts, filling your mind with questions you didn’t want to answer? No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the lingering echoes of your earlier conversation with him.

The date you’d agreed to—it was just two days away. The thought twisted your stomach into knots. You wanted to back out, to call it off before it began, but the idea of standing someone up felt even worse. Disappointment was something you despised, even more so when you were the one responsible for it.

A frustrated groan escaped your lips as you buried your face in your hands, rubbing at your skin with rough, almost punishing force. Agitation bubbled beneath the surface, a bombardment of emotions you couldn’t quite name. The room felt suffocating, the silence too loud, and yet all you could do was sit there, wrestling with a decision you didn’t know how to make.

You dropped your hands into your lap, staring blankly ahead as your thoughts swirled like a relentless storm, each one louder and more suffocating than the last. The idea of possibly liking him—or worse, getting attached—clawed at your mind. It was a question you couldn’t stop asking yourself, no matter how much you wanted to bury it.

You clung to the hope that it was merely the second option, attachment. Even though you despised both possibilities, the latter felt like the safer bet. Safer, because it didn’t require vulnerability. Safer, because it didn’t come with the promise of heartbreaking pain.

But the thought of giving yourself to someone—as a lover, as a partner—sent a wave of nausea through you. It was too much. The mere idea of trusting someone with the fragile pieces of your heart again was unbearable. You’d rather push them away, let them detach cleanly and painlessly, than risk being left exposed, broken, and abandoned once more.

Hope? No, that was long gone. It had slipped through your fingers like sand, scattering into nothingness long before tonight. You had stopped believing in the gentle caresses and warm embraces of true love. Those things weren’t meant for you. They were for people who hadn’t already been shattered. People who hadn’t spent years picking up pieces they could never fit back together.

You slumped further into the couch, letting the weight of that realization press down on you. The silence wrapped itself around your thoughts, heavy and suffocating, as the void within you grew wider. If love had ever been a possibility, it wasn’t anymore. And you’d made peace with that. Or so you told yourself.

…🌺…

As the hours passed, your anxiety and stress got worse.

You were basically going to have a ‘date’ with Sae in less than 24 hours. And of course with the weight of this realization—it didnt help as Yuko was nagging your ear off as usual.

”Oh come on Y/n, are you even listening to me?”

“Sorry Yuko, what was that?”

You were pulled away from your thoughts as Yuko called you out.

Yuko gave you a slight scowl before returning to her unnecessary speech. However, as soon as she started speaking, your mind subconsciously ignored her words as you began to think about it Sae once more.

It started to become a habit now—thinking about Sae. It was indeed a troublesome habit you’ll admit, but you couldn't help it.

It’s weird. A guy with few words who started showing up at the place you worked at not that long ago—now starting to take such an impactful and heavy toll on you? It was something you could have never predicted.

“And then she thought it was a good idea too—Y/n!” Yuko shouted, grabbing your attention once more.

Your gaze snapped back to Yuko as you were met with an angry look. “Sorry Yuko.” you apologized.

“Are you serious Y/n? Is my story not that entertaining to you?” Yuko spoke as she took a step closer.

“No that's not it all. It's just…somethings been on my mind lately.” you spoke earnestly.

“Spill.” She demanded, not wasting a breath.

You let out a soft chuckle at her antics as you basically gave her a rundown on the encounter with Sae.

_______

“Y-You mean…its an actual DATE?!” Yuko shouted as a very unnatural, wide grin overtook her face.

“Uh I guess..” you sweatdropped, taking a step away from Yuko.

Yuko squealed like a fangirl as she ran up to you, squeezing the life out of you as she gave you her signature hug, pushing your face down to the plush of her breasts.

“Yuko! That's enough…” You mumbled out as she had you caged in.

Yuko reluctantly let you go as she gave you some space.

“Y/n, I told you. WHAT DID I SAY FROM THE BEGGINING! This man is into you! And its Sae Itoshi out of all these men!

“Yuko…its just a friendly date. He's not into me like that…I think.” You spoke with a bit of uncertainty.

“Why are you in denial Y/n?! I have never heard from the media or anywhere of Sae Itoshi inviting a girl he just met not that long ago to dinner just for ‘friendly talk’. I am telling you he's into YOU!” Yuko rambled on, getting some sense into your head.

“Yuko…i think your overlooking this maybe a bit too much,” you mumbled as you tried to drop Yuko’s accusations.

Yuko paused. She slowly turned her head towards you with a deadpan expression. “Are you fucking with me right now?”

“Y/n…are you fucking serious right now?” Yuko spoke with an alarming calm tone.

Yuko took a couple step towards you as she stared you down. An unreadable glint flashed in her eyes as she stood quiet. “If I could Y/n…i would beat you senseless if it means I can finally get this through your head. Its a shame I love you too much to do that.” Yuko finally spoke as she let out a sigh.

“Do I take that as a threat or…” you mumbled, slightly startled by her actions and words.

“Nope!” Yuko chuckled as she stepped away from you. “Ill let you be Y/n. But trust me when I say he’s interested.” Yuko voiced as she looked at you.

“How can you be certain though Yuko?” you spoke.

Yuko smiled at you before she left. Her steps slowly receding as she gave you one last glance before leaving you to do your job. “I know men, Y/n.”

…🌺…

“I'll pick you up. What's your address?"

"It's *****”

"Alright. I'll be there in about 10 minutes."

You set your phone down on the nightstand, releasing a shaky exhale. Even texting Sae was nerve-wracking.

Rising slowly from the couch, you headed into your bedroom to give yourself one last look in the mirror. You didn’t want to seem underdressed—not for a date with Sae. Oh, especially not with the Sae Itoshi.

Dragging your feet across the creaking floorboards, you pushed open the bedroom door. You stopped short in front of the full-length mirror, taking a moment to steel yourself.

You stared at yourself, your own reflection staring back. But the image before you felt foreign, like a mask you no longer recognized. The girl in the mirror seemed whole, unbroken, but you knew better—everything she showed was a lie. Beneath her composed surface was the weight of every heartbreak, every whispered promise that shattered like glass.

You saw your past in her eyes, a pool of anguish and betrayal. Men who touched but never stayed, who spoke of love yet only took what they wanted—leaving nothing but fragments of yourself behind. They had used you, consumed you, and discarded you, their intentions never pure, their affection hollow. You craved love, dreamed of it as something beautiful, but each experience taught you the same painful truth: love wasn’t real. It was an illusion, a cruel trick life played to make you believe in something that didn’t exist.

And yet, as much as you wanted to give up, as much as the mirror whispered that hope was foolish, you couldn’t stop the ache. The craving for love was carved within you. You wanted to be held, cherished, seen—not for what you could offer, but for who you were. But with each passing day, fear groped tighter around your heart. What if love would only break you again? What if the cost of trying was more than you could bear?

You longed for someone to prove you wrong, to show you love wasn’t just a fantasy crafted by movies and books. But even that hope felt dangerous. Could you risk it? Could you open the door to your heart one more time, knowing it could destroy you if it all fell apart again? If someone could rewrite what love means to you, would you let them?

It was odd. Very odd, indeed, that in the midst of such vile and upsetting thoughts, Sae appeared in your mind.

But why?

Why was it him who came to mind?

You’d only known the guy for barely two months. Was that really enough time to feel yourself growing... attached? The thought was confusing—so confusing it made your head spin.

A frown crept across your face. Yes, confusing was the perfect word. It was almost impossible to imagine Sae and love in the same sentence. The word felt foreign and distant, like it belonged to a language you could never hope to understand.

The sudden chime of your doorbell snapped you out of your thoughts. Sae was here. How much time had passed?

You grabbed your belongings in a rush, practically stumbling to the front door. Pausing for a moment, you let out a deep breath, steadying yourself. The nerves were hitting you like a shit ton of bricks, threatening to overwhelm you.

But you could manage. At least, you hoped you could.

You opened the door, and there he was—Sae Itoshi, standing casually yet exuding that air of quiet confidence he always seemed to carry.

Your eyes trailed over his figure, taking in his outfit: a brown blazer layered over a plain white T-shirt and a pair of fitted black pants that somehow managed to look both fitted and effortlessly relaxed.

As you took in his appearance, it seemed he was doing the same to you.

“You actually look decent for once. I was half-expecting your outfit to be as bad as those crappy work uniforms,” Sae remarked, his tone as dry as ever.

Of course. Not a single day passed without at least one of his signature insults.

“Thanks. You don’t look bad yourself,” you muttered, biting back your irritation—a skill you’d honed to near perfection in these past two months.

Sae let out a low hum, a sound that could almost be mistaken for agreement. The corners of his lips tugged upward ever so slightly, a ghost of a smile flickering across his face. “The car’s outside. Let’s go.”

You gave a short nod and stepped out, pausing only to lock the door behind you. The cool night air greeted you as you followed him down the path, nerves still fluttering in your chest but your steps steady enough to keep up.

You followed behind Sae as he led the way to his car, his confident strides making it clear he expected you to keep up. When you reached the sleek vehicle, he headed straight for the driver’s side without so much as a glance in your direction.

What a gentleman.

Suppressing an irritated sigh, you opened the passenger door yourself and slid into the seat. As you settled in, your gaze drifted—unbidden—to Sae. His hands, calloused and veined, gripped the handle firmly as he opened his door. Slim, strong, and steady, they were surprisingly... attractive.

A sudden warmth rushed to your cheeks, and you blinked, snapping yourself out of it. Really? Were you seriously paying attention to his hands? This wasn’t like you. But, embarrassingly, you could now understand Yuko’s endless rants about the appeal of a man’s hands.

You shook the thought away, pressing your lips into a thin line as Sae slid into the driver’s seat. He shot you a brief glance, his teal eyes sharp, curious, but ultimately uninterested enough to probe further.

“So, uh... you have a destination in mind?” you asked, your voice cutting through the awkward silence.

“Of course. I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t have a place in mind, would I?” Sae replied, his tone matter-of-fact as he started the car.

“Yeah...” you mumbled, feeling a little embarrassed by your question. Why was it always so hard to hold a normal conversation with this man?

The drive was quiet at first, the low hum of the engine filling the space. But you couldn’t help noticing Sae glancing at you every so often, his teal eyes flicking toward you before quickly returning to the road. It wasn’t subtle—he was clearly taking in your appearance.

The attention made you squirm slightly in your seat, the silence growing heavier with every glance. Finally, you broke it. “Do I have something on my face or...?”

Sae’s gaze shifted fully to you for a brief moment, his expression calm but entirely unreadable. Caught in the act, it seemed. “No,” he said, his voice as smooth and detached as always. “I’m just... still surprised you managed to look this put together outside of your uniform.”

“Put together?” you repeated, eyebrows raising as you tried to determine whether or not to be offended.

“Yeah. You look good.”

The words landed like a wave out of the blue. Your eyes widened, and an undeniable blush crept across your cheeks.

Sae Itoshi—the Sae Itoshi—just said you looked good.

You opened your mouth, searching for a response, but nothing came out. All you could do was turn your gaze toward the window, attempting to hide the warmth that flooded your cheeks. Meanwhile, Sae returned his attention to the road, his expression as unreadable as ever, as if he hadn’t just sent your heart racing.

Your stomach churned, a confusing mix of queasiness and ecstasy, while your heart hammered relentlessly in your chest. You hated it—and enjoyed it at the same time.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Sae glancing at you through the faint reflection in the window. A quiet chuckle escaped his lips, low and rich, breaking the silence in the car.

The sound sent a shiver down your spine. It was a rare, almost musical laugh that you hadn’t heard from him before.

Your ears perked up instinctively, and before you could stop yourself, you turned to look at him. Sae’s face, usually so composed and indifferent, held the faintest trace of a smile. The corners of his lips curved softly, and even his sharp teal eyes seemed to soften, crinkling ever so slightly with the expression.

His smile—rare and beautiful—was utterly mesmerizing. His smile resembled something of a masterpiece, delicate and breathtaking, like standing before the most sacred painting in a museum. The kind of art that pulls you in, making the world fade around you, leaving only the singular beauty in front of you. The curve of his lips, the gentle crinkle at the corners of his eyes, the faintest hint of warmth softening his usually stoic expression—it all felt impossibly sacred. It was the kind of sight that engraved itself into your memory, refusing to be forgotten.

"You laughed," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile perfection of the moment. Your gaze stayed fixed on him, wide-eyed and awestruck, unable to look away.

His expression shifted, the corners of his mouth faltered yet still tilted upward, though now tinged with faint curiosity at your reaction. You barely noticed. The sight of him like this—so unguarded, so human—had stolen every ounce of your focus, making your chest ache with something you couldn’t put into words.

“Am I not allowed? Why is it such a shock to you that I can smile?” Sae asked, the same soft expression lingering on his face as he spoke.

Your face flushed with embarrassment. “No, that’s not what I meant! It’s just... I’ve never seen you make any expression other than annoyance or indifference,” you said earnestly, your words tumbling out before you could stop them.

Sae tilted his head slightly, as though your statement was absurd. “I’m not some expressionless robot. You do realize that, right?” he replied, his usual sarcasm laced with a surprisingly lighthearted tone.

Before you could open your mouth to defend yourself, his voice cut in again, smooth and unbothered.

“Well, would you look at that—we’re here.”

_______

The restaurant was... nice. No, very nice. The kind of nice that made you sit a little straighter in your chair and second-guess your outfit. Everything from the polished marble floors to the soft glow of chandeliers above screamed luxury. You couldn’t help but feel out of place.

You’d never set foot in a restaurant like this before—linen napkins folded like origami, waiters moving with the precision of dancers. It wasn’t hard to imagine that Sae frequented places like this. He looked perfectly at home, his tailored outfit exuding effortless sophistication. Even his so-called “casual” attire seemed worlds apart from your own, and the subtle glint of jewelry he always wore hinted at an expensive taste you couldn’t begin to comprehend.

"Have you decided what to order yet?" Sae’s calm voice broke through your thoughts. He was still scanning the menu, his expression unreadable as ever.

You glanced back at the glossy menu in your hands, the rows of elegant dish names doing little to help your decision. "No, not really," you admitted, glancing up at him. "Everything looks good. I can’t decide."

Sae set his menu down, his gaze shifting to you with that steady confidence of his. "Then order whatever you find even slightly appetizing," he said, as though it was the simplest solution in the world.

You hesitated, your eyes lingering on him as you wrestled with a pang of guilt. "Are you sure? Is that okay...?" you asked softly, your voice trailing off. The weight of the prices on the menu and the sheer grandeur of the place were making you second-guess everything.

"Y/n, I have more than enough to cover the meal," Sae said, his tone as casual as ever. He leaned back slightly, glancing around the restaurant with an almost bored expression. "I could buy this entire place if I wanted to."

Wow. Nothing quite like Sae's unintentional flexes to remind you just how wide the gap was between your lives. Standing next to him on any given day was enough to make you feel like an unemployed, wandering vagabond.

"Ah, right. I forgot how disgustingly rich you are," you grumbled under your breath, a sigh slipping past your lips as you slouched back into your chair.

He didn’t react, just offered you a faint shrug as if to say, Well, it’s true.

Soon enough, the waiter returned, and you gave your order, still feeling a pang of guilt for indulging in food you weren’t even sure you’d like. But as the thought lingered, you steeled yourself. Actually, no—screw the guilt. If Sae wanted to flaunt his wealth and bring you to a place like this, the least you could do was enjoy it. Think of it as compensation for dealing with his bluntness and lack of tact on a daily basis. Yes, this was your reward.

Still, the moments after the waiter left were... awkward. Sitting across from Sae in silence was like waiting for a storm that may or may not ever hit. The quiet wasn’t necessarily tense, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either. You debated pulling out your phone but ultimately decided against it. It would feel rude, and you weren’t about to be that person.

To your surprise, Sae broke the silence first.

"So," he began, his voice low but steady, "how was your day?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. "Uh... it was fine, I guess. Nothing exciting," you replied, wondering what had prompted him to initiate small talk.

He nodded, his gaze fixed on you in a way that made it clear he wasn’t just asking out of politeness. "Do you have any pets?" he asked next, his tone still casual but carrying a thread of genuine curiosity.

The question made you pause. This was... new. Sae wasn’t exactly known for his conversational efforts, and yet here he was, actively engaging. You decided to roll with it. "No, I don’t, but I’ve always wanted a dog," you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips. "What about you? I can’t imagine you having time for a pet."

He shrugged again, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly. "You’re right. Too much effort," he said simply, though there was a faint amusement in his tone.

The conversation had been flowing smoothly, surprisingly so, until Sae’s next question brought it to an abrupt halt.

"Have you dated anyone?" he asked, his voice casual but direct, the weight of his gaze making it impossible to avoid.

Your eyes widened slightly at the unexpected question, and for a moment, you froze. Quickly, you composed yourself, forcing a small, nonchalant smile onto your face. "Yeah, actually. I’ve dated a couple of people," you replied evenly, though your voice carried a faint tension that betrayed you.

Sae’s sharp eyes didn’t miss it. He wasn’t just observant—he was a prodigy at reading between the lines, piecing together the truths people tried to hide. The brief flicker of discomfort that passed over your face before you answered didn’t go unnoticed. He didn’t pry, though. Instead, he filed it away silently, as if respecting a boundary you hadn’t explicitly set.

"Well, what about you?" you asked, seizing the opportunity to shift the focus onto him. Your tone was light, almost teasing, though a part of you was genuinely curious. "Have you dated anyone?"

Sae leaned back in his chair, letting out a quiet hum as if considering how much he wanted to say. "Not really," he began, his tone even. "Just a couple."

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his candor.

"The girls I dated were... aggravating," he admitted with a sigh, tilting his head back and closing his eyes briefly. His expression was calm, but the faint furrow in his brow suggested lingering annoyance. "They wanted too much. Too clingy, too demanding. I couldn’t stand it."

A small chuckle slipped past your lips, the sound light and unrestrained. "That’s surprising," you said with a laugh, covering your mouth with the back of your hand as if to stifle it.

Sae opened his eyes at your reaction, turning his attention to you. For a moment, he didn’t speak, his gaze steady as it lingered on your face. He studied you—the curve of your smile, the sparkle in your eyes that hadn’t been there a moment ago. Finally, he broke the silence. "How so?"

Your laughter quieted, but a playful smile lingered as you met his gaze. "Well, you don’t exactly look—or act—like the type of guy who indulges in relationships," you admitted, leaning back slightly in your chair.

Sae cocked an eyebrow, his expression unreadable at first. Then, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Really? That’s funny, because at first, you didn’t look like the type of girl to even know what a relationship is," he quipped, the smugness in his tone unmistakable.

You blinked, caught off guard by the remark, before narrowing your eyes at him. "Oh, come on," you muttered, deadpanning as you leaned forward. "That’s so unfair."

He chuckled softly, the sound rare but genuine, and you couldn’t help but feel the tension in your chest ease. "Jokes aside," he said, his smirk fading into something more sincere, "you’re quite the looker. You’re on the attractive side, you know." His tone was casual, but his gaze held steady, focused entirely on you. "I’m not really surprised you’ve been in relationships."

A faint blush spread across your cheeks as his words settled in, leaving you flustered in a way that made your heart race. Sae always had this way of throwing you off balance, his calm yet blunt remarks stirring a confusing mix of emotions. Why did he affect you like this? You glanced away shyly, mumbling, "Thanks, I guess... you’re not bad yourself."

You fiddled with the hem of your shirt beneath the table, trying to focus on anything but the heat rising to your face. But, of course, Sae couldn’t let you off that easily.

"I know I am," he said, his tone dripping with casual arrogance. "My looks are way above average, after all."

You snapped your head up at his words, a small grunt of frustration escaping your lips. Your narrowed gaze locked onto him. "You know," you grumbled, crossing your arms, "I liked it better when you were expressionless."

But even as the words left your mouth, you knew they weren’t true. If anything, you lived for the rare moments when Sae’s stoic mask slipped, revealing hints of his humor, his smugness, or even just his rare smiles.

Sae’s lips twitched slightly, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth as he shrugged. "Life doesn’t always give you what you want," he remarked, his voice calm and measured but laced with the slightest tease. "Guess you’ll just have to deal with it."

The sheer smugness in his tone made your irritation bubble over, and an exasperated scoff slipped from your lips. You glared at him, but Sae remained unbothered, his smirk now fully formed as he leaned back in his chair.

He was enjoying this—enjoying the way he was getting under your skin, the way he could pull these reactions out of you so easily

After a round of playful—and not-so-playful—bickering, the food finally arrived.

The dishes were plated with such precision and artistry that they looked almost too good to eat. Almost. The aroma wafted up, rich and tantalizing, and your mouth watered instantly. Your excitement was palpable, your gaze flitting from one dish to the next as the waiters carefully placed them on the table. Words failed to describe the sheer joy your taste buds anticipated, and your expression said it all.

Sae glanced up from his plate, his eyes settling on you. A soft chuckle, barely audible, slipped past his lips as he took in the sight of your excitement. It wasn’t loud or mocking—more like a quiet, amused acknowledgment of how endearing you looked. From his perspective, it was as if this was your first real meal. He found himself wanting to memorize the moment, the way your eyes sparkled, your lips curving into an unconscious smile at the sight of the food.

You didn’t waste a second. Grabbing your utensils, you dug in, the first bite sending a wave of satisfaction through you. The flavors were indescribable—rich, balanced, and utterly heavenly. Each morsel seemed to melt in your mouth, and your body visibly relaxed with each bite.

Meanwhile, Sae hadn’t touched his food. He rested his chin on one hand, watching you with a soft, almost imperceptible smirk. He wasn’t sure what was more fascinating—the way you seemed utterly transported by the meal or the unguarded happiness on your face. You were like an open book in this moment, and he found himself… intrigued.

When you finally noticed his lack of movement, you paused mid-bite, narrowing your eyes at him. "What?" you asked, your voice muffled by food but still laced with suspicion.

Sae shook his head slightly, his smirk growing. "Nothing. Just… you really like your food, huh?"

"Of course, I do," you shot back, quickly swallowing so you could defend yourself properly. "It’s amazing! How are you not eating yet?!"

"I was just enjoying the view," he remarked casually, his tone as calm as ever, though his words carried a teasing edge.

Your cheeks flushed, and you glared at him. "Well, stop staring and eat your food before it gets cold," you muttered, your irritation half-hearted.

Sae finally relented, picking up his utensils and diving into his own meal. The two of you ate in companionable silence after that, the earlier tension easing into something more comfortable.

Between bites, your gaze flickered to him, catching the subtle way his posture relaxed, the way he seemed content. Maybe it was the food, or maybe it was the company, but the moment felt… nice. Natural.

And though neither of you said it aloud, the quiet comfort of eating together spoke volumes on its own.

…🌺…

"The food was great. I really enjoyed it," you said as the two of you walked toward his parked car. The evening air was cool, and the soft glow of the streetlights painted everything in a warm, muted hue.

Sae glanced at you, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. "It sure looked like you enjoyed it, considering the way you stuffed your face," he remarked, his tone as deadpan as ever.

Your face instantly flushed a deep red, embarrassment creeping up your neck. "Hey!" you shot back, turning toward him with wide eyes. "You can’t criticize me for that! This was… new to me! I was just… excited, okay?"

The words tumbled out in your attempt to defend yourself, but the more you spoke, the more you realized how ridiculous you sounded. You huffed, crossing your arms as you stole a glance at Sae, waiting for his response.

But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just looked at you, his expression softening as a warm, genuine smile spread across his face.

It caught you completely off guard.

The embarrassment that had been bubbling inside you vanished almost instantly, replaced by a strange, calming warmth. There was something about the way he smiled—rare and unguarded—that made everything else seem trivial. For a moment, it was just the two of you, standing there in the quiet evening, and all the teasing, awkwardness, and uncertainty faded away.

This whole evening had been… different. Odd, yes, but enjoyable in a way you hadn’t expected.

Sae opened the car door for you, gesturing for you to get in. As you slid into the passenger seat, you found yourself sneaking one last glance at him, his faint smile lingering in your mind.

Maybe this wasn’t just dinner. Maybe it was the start of something more.

_______

"That’s your apartment, right?" Sae asked, pointing toward the familiar building as he brought the car to a stop.

"Yeah," you replied with a nod, unbuckling your seatbelt and stepping out of the car.

To your surprise, Sae stepped out as well, his movements casual as he fell in step behind you. You turned to face him, your brows furrowing in confusion. "What are you doing?"

He met your gaze, hands shoved into his pockets, his tone as calm and nonchalant as ever. "Walking you to your apartment. Isn’t that how you’re supposed to treat a lady?"

You blinked, caught off guard by his unexpected reply. Of all the times for him to act like a gentleman, now was the moment he chose? His words felt both sincere and teasing, leaving you feeling both confused and slightly amused.

Shaking your head, a small laugh escaped your lips. "Whatever," you muttered, rolling your eyes but unable to hide your smile.

The two of you walked up to the building together. As you reached your door, you fished around in your pocket for your key. The sound of metal jingling filled the air as you finally pulled it out and unlocked the door, turning the key with a satisfying click.

Pushing the door open, you stepped inside and turned around, expecting Sae to leave. But he was still there, standing just outside the doorway, his expression unreadable.

The longer he stood there, the more awkward the moment became. You felt a twinge of guilt, unsure if he was waiting for something or simply being polite. After a beat of hesitation, you sighed and pushed the door open wider, gesturing for him to come in.

"You might as well come in," you said, your voice soft but resigned.

Sae raised an eyebrow, as if slightly amused by your reaction, but he didn’t say anything. With a small nod, he stepped inside, his presence instantly filling the space in a way that felt both strange and oddly comforting.

Sae kicked off his shoes at the entrance and stepped further inside, his eyes sweeping over the room. His gaze lingered on the various pieces of decor and furniture, taking everything in with an unreadable expression. One by one, his eyes moved from the small bookshelf in the corner to the slightly mismatched throw pillows on the couch. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm and measured. "So this is your apartment, huh? Cozier than I expected."

You turned your gaze sharply toward him, a familiar irritation bubbling within you. It seemed Sae had an unmatched talent for making even his compliments sound like backhanded remarks. "You always think so little of me, don’t you?" you grumbled, crossing your arms as you watched him continue his casual inspection of your space.

Sae glanced at you briefly, unfazed. "I judge based on what’s shown on the outside," he said with a shrug, his hands still buried in his pockets. His tone was neutral, almost indifferent, but you could sense a hint of teasing beneath it.

Letting out a sigh, you brushed past him and made your way to the couch, the plush cushions welcoming you as you sank into them. You stretched out slightly, the tension in your body melting away as you made yourself comfortable. "Well, I guess that makes you the ultimate judge of character, huh?" you muttered, your voice tinged with sarcasm.

You slouched into the couch, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The day had been long, but the quiet hum of the apartment seemed to melt the tension from your body. You turned your head, and your gaze was immediately captured by Sae's piercing teal eyes, watching you with a calm intensity.

A strange warmth bloomed in your chest, fluttering like an unspoken secret between you. "So," you started, your voice laced with casual curiosity as you fought to push the feeling aside, "why did you willingly step into my apartment? Not exactly your usual scene."

He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable as always. "Why not? I was bored." Sae's reply was as nonchalant as ever, but the way he strolled over to join you on the couch betrayed a certain comfort in being here. He sank into the cushions beside you, letting out the faintest of sighs, as if your living room had somehow become his sanctuary. "Besides," he added after a beat, "it was pleasant hanging out with you. I wasn’t ready for that to end yet."

His words struck you harder than you cared to admit, and a maddening blush began to creep up your cheeks. You quickly turned your head, a small, nervous laugh escaping your lips as you scrambled to keep your composure. "So, you're saying I'm fun to be around, huh?" you teased lightly, hoping the playfulness would mask the sudden erratic rhythm of your heart.

For a moment, Sae’s face remained impassive, but then a subtle smile curved his lips—rare and fleeting, like a secret he allowed you to glimpse. "More or less," he said, his voice low but tinged with an undeniable warmth.

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt charged, like the pause before a thunderstorm. You weren’t sure if it was the proximity, the way his knee almost brushed yours, or the way he looked at you as if he could see past every wall you’d carefully built.

"You’re full of surprises, Itoshi," you murmured, leaning back against the couch. The teasing edge in your voice was softer now, replaced by a quiet curiosity you couldn’t quite hide. "Never thought I’d hear you admit to enjoying anyone’s company."

He glanced at you, the corner of his mouth twitching as though considering whether to respond. Then, without warning, he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, his eyes locked onto yours.

"Maybe you’re an exception," he said simply.

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with implications you weren’t sure either of you were ready to unpack. Your heart skipped a beat, and for once, you didn’t have a clever retort.

The faint sound of rain began to patter against the window, filling the silence. You turned your gaze toward it, your mind racing. "Exception, huh?" you finally murmured, trying to sound indifferent, though your voice betrayed the faintest waver.

He didn’t reply immediately, and when you dared to glance back at him, you found him watching you again, his expression softer now. "You don’t have to overthink it," he said, his tone a touch gentler than before. "I just… didn’t feel like being alone today."

Something in his admission made your chest tighten, but instead of pressing him further, you simply nodded. "Well," you said lightly, offering him a small smile, "good thing you’re here, then. I wasn’t planning on being alone either."

The rain continued its rhythmic melody, and as the evening stretched on, the distance between you seemed to shrink, both physically and emotionally. Neither of you said much, but in the quiet company of one another, there was a sense of understanding that didn’t need words.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, the hum of the television filling the air. You glanced over at Sae, wondering what was running through his mind. After a moment, you decided to break the quiet.

"So, Sae," you began, your voice trying to sound casual. "Do you want to do anything, or...? I imagine you’re probably getting bored by now."

His eyes met yours, his gaze unwavering. He looked... contemplative, as if he were lost in thought about something important, though he didn’t seem eager to share.

"I’m fine," he mumbled after a long pause, though his words didn't match the slight tension in his expression. It was clear there was something on his mind, something weighing him down, but he wasn’t ready to say what it was.

You nodded, respecting his silence, and leaned back into the couch, glancing out the window. The evening sky was a soft mix of dark colors, but your mind kept drifting back to him. The way his demeanor shifted, how he seemed a little distant.

After a second, you decided to try again, pushing past the silence. "So, tell me about your career," you asked, your voice gentle but curious. "What’s it like—"

Before you could finish, Sae’s hand shot out, and in one swift motion, he grasped your chin, gently but firmly, and tilted your face towards his.

Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart skipped a beat. You were so close, your eyes wide in shock as you stared at him, feeling his breath against your skin. The moment hung between you like a fragile thread. You were frozen, not sure what was happening or what had made him do this.

He stared into your eyes, his gaze flicking briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes once more. Every movement of his felt deliberate, almost like he was studying you, and you couldn’t look away. It was as if the world had paused around the two of you, the silence between you thickening with each passing second.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest, its rapid beat deafening in your ears. It was as though your entire body was on edge, strung taut with anticipation, and yet you couldn’t move. You were frozen, caught in the intensity of the moment.

Sae shifted his grip, his fingers tracing your jawline before he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing gently beneath your eye. The touch was soft, almost tender.

And that’s when you saw it—love.

You almost flinched at the thought. His eyes were so focused, so soft, as if they were seeing you in a way no one ever had before. There was something vulnerable in the way he looked at you, something raw.

Love?

The word echoed in your mind, heavy and foreign. You hadn’t used that word in so long, not with anyone. And certainly not with him. It was difficult to fathom that someone like Sae—so guarded, so distant—could feel that way, could look at you like this.

The panic started to rise in your chest. If this was what he felt—love—then what did that mean for you? For this? You weren’t sure if you were ready to love again. Not like this, not so suddenly, and not with someone who seemed so far removed from the idea of it.

It felt as though the weight of the world was pressing down on you, immense and overwhelming. Would you let him love you like this? Could you let him?

More importantly, could you let yourself love him?

You weren’t ready. Every thought in your mind screamed for you to pull back, to protect yourself from whatever this was. What if Sae broke you? What if you let yourself fall into this and it all came crashing down, just like before? You didn’t want to be broken again. You didn’t want to be tossed aside, left alone to pick up the pieces of a love that wasn’t real.

It hurt. The weight of your own fears, of what could happen, felt suffocating. You didn’t know what to do, torn between wanting to return his feelings and the fear of what would happen if you did. You wanted so badly to let love consume you, to let him pull you in, but you couldn’t ignore the voice that warned you against it.

What if he was just using you?

You couldn’t risk it. The idea of being hurt again, of losing yourself in someone else only to be discarded, was too much to bear. But still, the desire to let go, to give in, lingered within you like a quiet ache. Were you really this hopeless? Pathetic, even?

Tears threatened to spill as you felt Sae’s palm still resting against your face, his touch a tender reminder of everything you wanted but couldn’t allow yourself to have. You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it was no use. The tears slowly began to fall, too overwhelming to hold back.

Sae’s eyes widened in surprise at the sight of you, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his other hand moved to cup the other side of your face, his touch gentle and careful, as though he was afraid of breaking you, too.

With a softness that took you off guard, Sae wiped away the tears that slipped down your cheeks, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin. You didn’t know what to make of it. It was so different, so unexpected. No one had ever been this gentle, this affectionate with you before, not in the way Sae was. His touch felt like he was holding you together, not pulling you apart.

Sae’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his eyes full of something you couldn’t quite place—gentleness, sincerity, something that made your heart flutter in spite of the walls you had built. "Y/n," he whispered, his voice calm, almost tender. "Please don’t cry."

Quiet tears continued to fall, each one carrying the weight of everything you’d been holding back for so long. His thumb gently traced your reddened cheek, and his face leaned in closer, his presence both soothing and overwhelming. The warmth of his touch felt so different—so real.

"You don’t have to cry," he murmured again, his voice low and soft, carrying an unmistakable sense of care. "Y/n… I don’t know what happened for you to tear up like this, but I promise you… whatever happened in the past, I won’t replicate it." His words were sincere, the kind of promise that, for a brief moment, made the pain inside you seem a little more bearable.

For a split second, you searched his face, desperately trying to find any hint of insincerity, any trace of deception hidden beneath the calmness in his eyes. But there was nothing—nothing that suggested he was lying. His tone was steady, unyielding.

Could you trust him? Could you really let him in?

The vulnerability he was showing, the way he was looking at you, it warmed your heart in a way that felt so foreign. So safe. It was everything you didn’t know you needed, and yet it was right in front of you.

"You promise…?" Your voice was small, shaky, as the uncertainty you’d been carrying for so long finally slipped into your words.

Sae’s eyes softened even more, and he lowered his gaze slightly, as if he could feel the weight of what you were carrying, of the hesitation in your voice. He didn’t speak for a moment, just letting the silence stretch between you two, as if understanding how deep the scars of your past must have been.

Whatever had happened to you, whatever pain you’d endured before—it had clearly left a mark on you. A deep, unhealed wound that made it hard to trust, to let anyone close. Sae understood that, and for the first time, you saw that in his eyes: understanding, not judgment. Compassion, not pity.

"Yes," he finally said, his voice firm but gentle. "I promise."

The sincerity in his words felt like a lifeline, like the first breath of air after being submerged in water for too long. And in that moment, despite the storm of emotions inside you, you allowed yourself to believe him. Maybe you didn’t have all the answers, but you could take this one step.

You could let him in.

(Song recommendation: Im Yours - Isabel LaRosa)

Sae's smile softened at you, a warmth in his gaze that spoke more than his actions ever could. Then, without a word, he leaned in, slowly pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was soft at first, gentle as though testing the waters, but it quickly deepened as his hands moved to the side of your neck, holding you closer, grounding you in the moment.

Your hands instinctively moved to his chest, resting against the firm muscles you could feel even through his clothes. The warmth of his body against yours was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but be drawn further into him.

For a moment, Sae pulled away, just enough to catch his breath, but his eyes never left yours. And then, just as quickly, he recaptured your lips in his, this time more urgent, more insistent.

His tongue gently brushed across your lips, a silent request, and you gasped, heart racing at the intensity of it all. He took that moment to slip his tongue into your mouth, and it was like electricity sparked between you. His tongue moved against yours in a slow, deliberate dance, each movement an invitation to fall deeper into him, into this moment.

Everything else faded away. The world outside, the thoughts racing through your mind—none of it mattered now. All that existed was the heat between you two, the closeness that felt like it had been building for so long.

Sae groaned softly into your mouth, his hand threading gently through your hair, tugging just enough to send a shiver down your spine. There was hesitation in the movement, as though he was aware of the fine line between desire and discomfort, but the tension in his touch made your pulse race.

The gentle tug on your hair pulled you back slightly, causing your lips to break apart for a fleeting moment. But before you could gather your breath, Sae's lips were back on yours, this time with a bit more force, more urgency. The kiss deepened, and the pressure pushed you slightly back onto the couch. Sae didn’t hesitate—he used the shift in position to his advantage, quickly climbing over you, his body covering yours, pinning you gently but firmly to the soft cushions beneath.

His legs shifted, placing themselves outside of yours, trapping you in place with a controlled intensity that made your breath catch. His chest pressed against yours, the warmth of his body melding with yours as you felt his weight settle over you.

After a moment, Sae reluctantly detached his lips from yours, his breath coming shallow and quick. He gazed down at you, his eyes no longer just filled with tenderness or care. There was something new there. Something darker, deeper. Lust.

His voice was soft, almost hesitant, but there was an undeniable edge to it. "Y/n... would you let me?" he murmured, his gaze never leaving yours, his body still hovering over you, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of him.

A wave of emotion swelled within you, something foreign and stirring. Sae had asked for permission—something none of the others had ever done. Usually, it was a matter of taking what they wanted without a second thought, but not Sae. His consideration, his respect, made you pause. Maybe this was different. Maybe this could be different.

Your heart fluttered, a warm smile spreading across your face as you met his gaze. "Yes, Sae. I will."

Sae’s smile mirrored yours, soft and genuine, before he placed a tender kiss on your cheek—a silent thank you. There was an unspoken understanding between you now, a connection that was more than just physical. It felt like trust, like a promise he was making without words.

He stood, slipping off his blazer with a fluid motion, letting it fall carelessly to the floor. Then, without hesitation, he pulled off his shirt, revealing his toned, muscular chest. The sight made your breath catch. He was... built. Strong, defined—everything about him was a reflection of strength, of control.

Your eyes lingered on his body, taking in every detail. You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks as you tried to focus, your heart racing in your chest.

Sae noticed your reaction, a playful chuckle escaping his lips. His eyes twinkled with amusement, yet there was something more behind his gaze, something deeper.

"Don’t worry," he murmured, his voice low and soothing, yet filled with a hint of confidence. "It’s all yours, Y/n. You’re going to have to get used to it."

Your cheeks burned with a deep blush at his words, but before you could process it fully, his lips were back on yours, pulling you into the kiss with a hunger that matched your own.

As the kiss deepened, your hands instinctively trailed up the firmness of his abs, feeling him shiver beneath your touch. The sensation of his skin under your fingertips made your pulse quicken. Sae groaned into your mouth, his tongue seeking entrance, and this time, you didn’t hesitate—your lips parted, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

It was a kiss that was both aggressive and tender. Sae’s neediness was noticeable, desperate even, but there was a gentleness in his touch, a carefulness that kept the intensity from crossing into something too overwhelming. He was savoring the moment, as if he was afraid of breaking something fragile.

His hand moved to the collar of your shirt, his fingers pausing, hesitating just for a brief second. He broke the kiss, his gaze locking with yours, silently asking for permission.

A soft laugh escaped your lips at the look in his eyes—this was different, this was him. There was no pressure, no rush. Just the quiet, mutual understanding between you two.

You nodded, giving him the confirmation he needed, and without another word, Sae yanked your shirt off in one swift motion, tossing it carelessly to the side.

Now, with both of you half-dressed, skin brushing against skin, the weight of the moment settled around you. Sae’s chest pressed against yours, his heartbeat as erratic as yours. The closeness was dizzying, but it felt right.

You shifted, slowly leaning up as you looked into his eyes, silently acknowledging what was next and what he wanted. Sae's gaze flickered down to you, a silent question in his eyes, asking if you were ready.

You nodded. Sae's hands trembled slightly as he reached behind you to unclasp your bra, the lacy garment falling away to reveal your perfect, plump breasts. His gaze raked over your exposed skin, drinking in every inch of you as he felt a familiar heat building low in his belly.

"Fuck, Y/N..." Sae breathed, his voice rough with desire. "You're so perfect."

He leaned down, his chest pressing against yours as he claimed your mouth in a bruising kiss. It was hungry and desperate, as if you were the only thing keeping him chained to this earth.

One large hand came up to cup your breast, thumbing over your nipple almost earnestly. Although being gentle, there was nothing gentle about the way he wanted to touched you - he wanted to possess you, to mark you as his and his alone.

A low groan escaped your lips at his touch, and Sae's cock twitched eagerly in response. The sound of your pleasure was like music to his ears, spurring him on.

Sae's hands continued their sensual massage of your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they pebbled beneath his touch. Each stroke of his fingers sent sparks of pleasure racing through your veins, stoking the fire building between your thighs.

Breaking away from your lips, Sae latched onto the smooth column of your throat, his mouth hot and demanding against your skin. He sucked and nipped, leaving a trail of marks in his wake as he made his way lower.

When he reached your breast, Sae took your nipple into his mouth, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. He suckled greedily, the wet sound obscenely loud in the quiet room. Your back arched off the couch, a needy moan spilling from your lips.

He pulled off with a lewd pop, smirking up at you with pure, unadulterated lust. But there was something else in his eyes too - a tenderness, an adoration that made your heart skip a beat.

This time, you met his gaze head-on, not looking away. Because despite everything, despite the scars on your soul, you knew you were safe with him. Cherished.

Sae's smile widened as he took in the sight of you - flushed and panting, your body laid bare before him. He had done this, reduced you to a needy, senseless mess with just his hands and mouth.

"Look at you," he purred, fingers dancing along the hem of your pants. "So beautiful like this.”

He glanced up at you, seeking permission even in the heat of the moment. That was Sae - always making sure you were okay, that you wanted this as much as he did.

"Please," you breathed, lifting your hips in silent offering.

Something dark and possessive flashed in Sae's eyes as he slowly unbuttoned your pants, dragging the zipper down with agonizing leisure. He peeled the fabric away, leaving you clad in nothing but panties.

A noticeable dampness revealed your growing arousal, drawing Sae's attention. His breath hitched, his jaw tightening. An irresistible urge surged within him—he needed you.

Sae tossed your panties aside carelessly, leaving you completely exposed and vulnerable beneath his intense gaze. Every inch of your bare skin was on display for him, a feast for his hungry eyes.

Bending lower, he nuzzled into your inner thighs, kissing and licking a path towards your core. You trembled beneath him, hands fisting in the fabric as he inched closer to where you needed him most.

Your body jerked at the contact, instinctively trying to close your legs. But Sae's strong hands on your hips held you open, keeping you spread wide for his ministrations.

"Open for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice a heady mix of sternness and care.

Obediently, you let your thighs fall open, granting him unrestricted access to your most intimate places. Sae grunted approvingly as he took in the glistening pink of your aroused sex.

Gripping your knees, he pushed your legs back and apart, forcing you into a position of total surrender. The new angle had your entrance on full display.

"So gorgeous, Y/n,” he murmured appreciatively. "And all mine."

Slowly, teasingly, he slid a single finger into your dripping core. Your back arched off the couch as pleasure sparked through you, a needy moan spilling from your lips.

Sae crashed his mouth to yours, swallowing your moans as he fingered you with increasing intensity. Your velvety walls gripped him like a depravity, fluttering and clenching around his plunging fingers.

"You're so tight," he grunted against your lips. “I love it. You’re so good to me Y/n.”

He curled them just right, rubbing mercilessly against that sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside you. Your hips bucked wildly, seeking more of that friction, chasing the pleasure only he could give you.

Sae obliged, plunging his fingers faster, harder, driving into your soaked heat with relentless precision. Lewd squelching noises filled the air as he fucked you with his hand, the vulgar sounds spurring him on.

"That's it, Y/n," he groaned roughly. " ‘m gonna make you feel good.”

He could feel you tightening, your inner muscles starting to flutter and ripple around him. Your moans grew higher, needier, and Sae knew you were close.

Sae's fingers stilled as he felt your walls start to quaver, signaling your impending orgasm. He slowly withdrew his hand, denying you that release.

Your eyes fluttered open, hazy with need and confusion. "Sae? Why did you stop?" you murmured breathlessly.

He smirked down at you, his voice low and commanding. "Not yet, Y/N. I want to feel you come undone on my cock."

With quick movements, Sae unbuckled his belt and shoved his pants down, kicking them off impatiently. He stood before you, clad only in a pair of straining boxer briefs. The sizeable bulge at the front left no doubt as to his arousal.

You sat up slowly, eyes widening as you drank in the sight of his powerful body. Sae's smirk widened at your reaction. He grabbed your hips, pulling you flush against him as he guided your hands to the waistband of his underwear.

"Pull them down for me, Y/N," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Trembling with anticipation, you hooked your fingers under the elastic and slowly dragged the fabric down.

Your eyes widened as Sae's impressive length sprang free, bobbing mere inches from your face. It was thick and heavy, the bulbous head already glistening with precum. A thrill of excitement mixed with nervousness raced down your spine. Could you really take all of that?

As if sensing your hesitation, Sae cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "Don't worry, Y/n. You can handle it," he reassured, his voice a low rumble. "I'll start slow, ease you into it.”

He pushed you back onto the couch, his larger body covering yours. You felt trapped beneath him, pinned in place by his solid weight. Sae reached between your bodies, grasping his throbbing cock and giving it a few slow strokes.

Then, with agonizing leisure, he placed the tip against your entrance. You held your breath, every muscle tensing in anticipation. This was really happening.

"Tell me when, Y/N," Sae murmured against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "Remember, I'm yours. You're in control here."

He sealed his lips over yours in a long kiss, his tongue delving deep inside. You moaned into his mouth, your hands fisting in his hair as you lost yourself to the sensation.

When he finally pulled back, you were both panting harshly. Sae's eyes bore into yours, dark with desire but also filled with a tender understanding. He would follow your lead, let you set the pace.

All you had to do was say the word.

“Make me feel good, Sae," you breathed against his lips, pulling him in for a quick, heated kiss.

"Of course. Anything for you," he murmured back, a small smirk playing on his lips.

Sae's tip nudged against your entrance, teasing you. You squirmed beneath him, aching to be filled. His large hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he slowly pressed forward.

"If you need me to pause at any point, just say the word," Sae reassured, his voice low and soothing. "You can tell me anything, and I'll do it. This is all about you, Y/N."

You nodded, trusting him. Then, with a slow, deliberate push, Sae sheathed himself inside you. A low groan rumbled from his chest as your velvety walls stretched to adjust his girth.

He gave you a moment to adjust, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck as he waited patiently. When he started to move, it was with shallow, careful thrusts. Each roll of his hips sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your core.

Sae's breath came in ragged pants as he pounded into you, his brow glistening with sweat. Each thrust drew a groan from his lips, especially when your walls clenched around his throbbing shaft.

"Fuck, Y/N... so tight," he grunted, his pace growing more erratic. "Feels…amazing”.

You could only moan in response, your head thrashing on the fabric of the couch as he hit that perfect spot inside you over and over. The wet slap of skin on skin filled the room.

"S-Sae," you gasped out, wrapping your legs around his waist.

His name coming from your lips made him eager, slamming into you with ease. The new angle had him nailing your G-spot with overwhelming precision, sending bolts of electric pleasure zinging through your nerve endings.

Sae's breath came in harsh, ragged pants as he pounded into you, chasing his rapidly approaching climax. The way your walls clenched around his throbbing shaft, the sting of your nails scratching his back, the breathy cries of his name falling from your lips - it was all driving him wild with lust.

"S-Sae..." you stammered out, your voice high and needy. "I'm so close..."

He could see it in the glazed look of your eyes, feel it in the way your body was starting to tremble and tighten around him. Sae knew he wouldn't last much longer either.

"Me too, Y/n," he grunted, his movements growing sloppy and erratic.

With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the edge, grinding against your G-spot. At the same time, he reached between your bodies to circle your swollen clit with his fingers.

Sae let out a low, satisfied groan as he felt your warm essence dripping down his softening cock. With a final, shallow thrust, he pulled out completely, shooting his load onto your lower abdomen.

Exhausted, he collapsed on top of you, nuzzling his face between your breasts. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close as he caught his breath. You both lay there in the afterglow, the only sound the soft panting and huffing filling the room.

No words were spoken for a long moment, the silence comfortable and intimate. You gently ran your fingers through Sae's hair, massaging his scalp soothingly. He let out a contented hum, burrowing further into your embrace.

“Sae..." you murmured softly, breaking the quiet.

"Hm?" he mumbled, his voice slightly muffled by your skin.

You bit your lip, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "Everything you said... did you mean it? About me being yours, and you wanting to take care of me and make me feel good?"

The words tumbled out in a rush, tinged with uncertainty. In the heat of passion, it had all seemed so real, so intense. But now, in the calm aftermath, doubt began to creep in.

Was it just dirty talk, empty promises made in the act of lust? Or had Sae truly meant every word, genuine in his desire to cherish and care for you?

You needed to hear him say it again, unclouded by the haze of sex. You had to know if this was something real, something that could grow into more than just a physical connection.

You held your breath, waiting for his response, your heart fluttering with a mixture of hope and fear.

Sae lifted his head from the plush of your breasts, his teal eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that stole your breath. "I meant every word, Y/N," he murmured, his voice low and earnest. "I'll take care of you, I promise."

A small, shy smile tugged at the corners of your lips, hope blooming in your chest. Sae's hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheekbone.

"I like you, Y/N. More than you know. Maybe even love,” he confessed, his gaze never wavering. "These past two months, spending every day with you at the bakery... I've fallen for you. Hard."

He let out a soft chuckle. "To be honest, you're the only reason I keep going there. Just to see you, to be near you, even if it's only for a few minutes."

Your heart swelled at his words, a warm sensation flowing through your entire being. This was everything you'd secretly hoped for, dreamed of, but never dared to believe could be real.

Until now.

Leaning into his touch, you let yourself get lost in the depths of Sae's eyes, seeing the sincerity and affection shining there. In that moment, you knew with absolute certainty what you wanted, what your heart craved.

You wanted this. You wanted him.

The walls you'd built around yourself, the barriers you'd made to keep people out and protect your fragile heart... they crumbled to dust, swept away by the force of your feelings for this incredible man.

Now, it was time to let him in, to entrust him with your heart and let yourself be loved in return. No more holding back, no more running from what you truly desired.

"Sae..." you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "I... I think I'm falling for you too. I want this, I want you. I'm ready to let you in.”

You gazed up at Sae, your heart swelling with a love so profound it threatened to burst from your chest. In his warm teal eyes, you saw a reflection of everything you'd ever wanted, everything you'd been searching for all these years.

Comfort. Affection. Devotion. Love.

With Sae, you felt safe, cherished, whole. Like all the broken, jagged pieces of your soul had finally clicked into place, forming a beautiful painting of love and trust.

"Let me be in your life, Y/N," Sae murmured, his voice raw with emotion. "Let me love you, the way you deserve to be loved."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his words. How had you gotten so lucky, to find someone who saw past your walls, your wounds, straight to the tender heart underneath?

"And I shall let you love me, as I will love you, Sae," you whispered, a radiant smile blooming on your face.

This was everything you'd ever wanted, everything you'd never dared to dream possible. A love that healed, that uplifted, that made you feel invincible.

With Sae by your side, you finally felt complete. Like you'd found your home, your haven, your happily ever after.

"I'm yours," you breathed, reaching up to cup his cheek. "Now and forever."

Sae surged forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that poured every ounce of his love, his commitment, into the press of his mouth on yours. You melted into him, losing yourself in the exquisite taste of his devotion.

In that perfect moment, the rest of the world fell away. There was only you, only him, only the infinite love binding your hearts and souls together.

Forever and always.

a/n: omg im so sorry this took so long I didnt expect it to take a while😭

Btw sorry if the ending is rushed and crappy I just wanted to end it since it was getting too long. Plus…he was a bit too ooc for me🙁

I was originally going to make two parts but somehow I didn't so it took longer to post!!! I'm so sorry!!!

I should've made this a wattpad instead…yo wait hold up⁉️ I should make a wattpad‼️

Regardless…SAE IS SO FINE WHAT. He looks so scrumptious in these new bllk episodes😫 (Rin’s better tho. THE BETTER BROTHER!)

Yum😋

[lisafication]

This post is uh, extremely normal I swear

So hello yes I am absolutely On My Bullshit regarding my new favourite game. 

That’s right, it’s the cannibal incest game, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley. And I’m here to shove five thousand words of pretentious analysis down your throat because, and I do not exaggerate, I think it is one of, if not the best written game I have ever played. And I have played a lot of games, including Baldur’s Gate 3, Final Fantasy XIV and Undertale, to name a few narrative luminaries to come to mind.

That wordcount is not an exaggeration. My brainworms are extremely powerful and now you can share them with me as I walk you through my insane skyscraper of inference-driven analysis.

Or you can click away. I really wouldn’t blame you, it’s quite a lot.

Content Warnings: …Yes?

(To drop the bit for a moment, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley covers extremely disturbing material and challenges you to examine aspects of living in this world that many have taken for granted all their life, it is not a comfortable game, this will cover similar topics and will often echo the game’s unremitting scepticism on basic principles of society and humanity and you should look after yourself first. My Content Warning is framed as a joke, but it’s also quite real in that the game is designed to make you uncomfortable and there’s no shame in that not being for you.)

This was originally posted on and formatted for Sufficient Velocity, and you can probably more easily read and discuss it with me here.

With that said, let’s dig in. I have had to split this into multiple posts because tumblr will only allow so many images. There will be spoilers for all endings.

She’s excited, are you?

It’s All About Ashley

It really is, isn’t it? I mean, for approximately eighty percent of the total game as currently released and the entirety of Episode 1, you’re in control of Ashley, just as she’s in control of her and Andrew’s relationship for 80% of the game, up until the various ending sequences where it begins to slip. The only other characters who really matter at all in and of themselves are Andrew and her mother — and the former is under her thumb, and she eats the latter. It’s all about Ashley. Even her obsession with Andrew is, ultimately, about Ashley.

But who is Ashley? What is Ashley? Why is Ashley, even? Let’s take a look.

Ashley as presented to us in Episode 1 is very straightforward, so let’s list off the traits we’re given — she is malicious, she is fearless, she lacks empathy, she doesn’t have anything resembling a conscience, she demands Andrew belong to her and her alone, she has him at her beck and call.

In Episode 2, we’re ostensibly shown how she has him at her beck and call— she leverages the threat of reporting Nina’s death over him and had him swear to be with her forever. We’re shown that even as a child she was “just, like that” — but as a child, she hadn’t learnt to live with it yet, to laugh at the farce of it all.

Yeah, exactly like that!

And she does this throughout Episode 1 — The Coffin of Andy and Leyley is a remarkably silly game much of the time, finding moments of absurdity and levity against a backdrop blacker than pitch — and most of the time, your internal narration is coming from Ashley and the jokes will not-infrequently come at her own expense.

She will later get negged by her human sacrifice for her poor ritual circle drawing

Her reaction to being told that her soul is as dark and viscous as tar is “You guess you already knew that” — it’s confirmation to her, not new information. Ashley knows who she is. But who taught her this? There’s layers to this, nothing in this game is as simple and straightforward as it appears at first sight, which is why I’ve been obsessing over it for days.

While it’s common in fiction, the truth of the matter is, most ‘bad people’ really do think they’re good people. But Ashley has never once thought of herself as a good person — or perhaps better put as a person worthy of love — as we learn across Episodes 1 & 2, with our flashbacks to Andy and Leyley and the VERY VERY QUIET!!!

I really wish I had space in this essay to talk about this, but I’d like to touch on these being traits usually more easily forgiven in young boys than young girls at some point.

If she removes all other options, only then can she expect him to like her.

This is something that is echoed in the modern day — her seeming self-assurance is easily shaken and she reaches out to the world — usually Andrew — to affirm and validate her, soothing her insecurities, using any tool she deems necessary. Even when her life is on the line when Andrew has her by the throat at the climax of Episode 1, the only ‘compelling reason’ she can give Andrew to not kill her is her ability to soothe his nightmares. When he tells her there are sleeping pills for that…

Most people would have a bit more to argue for their existence.

While she, unlike Andrew, acknowledges having had friends before the quarantine… you know she’s got a point that they didn’t even bother to answer her calls, that was clearly not something the state was interfering with given Andrew’s calls with his mother and his girlfriend, and given her general demeanour it’s not hard to imagine that… they weren’t ever very close. When we see her and Nina talk in the infamous ‘box scene’, it’s clear that Nina doesn’t like her very much, despite Andrew’s assessment of Nina as being one of Ashley’s friends.

We see further support for her general lack of companionship in her dream sequence in the Burial route — Leyley and Leyley Alone. No matter what you do, you can’t place the pink plushy at the family table, the flowers won’t bloom if you give the Julia and Nina plushies her own as a companion instead of Andrew’s — and if you’re bold enough to go for the ‘incest route’, in the ‘Love’ room you see that no one ever looks happy to be with her in the childlike depictions of her history, nor is she happy in turn, save for when she’s with Andrew. In a bit of heavy-handed metaphor, the player then overwrites all of these tense, upset, hard moments with Andrew, having him fill in for everyone else in life — and happy with her.

Once Upon A Lousy Life…

THE END

And that’s why she needs him to affirm her, because no one else ever has and no one else ever will. It’s even included in their comic beats — when the siblings are getting along well, they’ll often play a game where Andrew dramatically overpraises Ashley while she demands more; it’s a comedic bit but I mean — it really does matter to her!

For the record, she opened a door. She gets a little heart in a speech bubble after this exchange.

We have a great example of this dynamic, that of insecurity and affirmation, in Episode 1, after Andrew has killed for her, butchered for her, his girlfriend broke up with her, he’s seemingly thrown his entire life away for her… she’s still insecure over her relationship with him, she’s uncertain of her control and she needs him to reaffirm it for her.

This is her victory, surely?

Andrew affirms her once, with his usual dead-eyed look.

But she's still not so sure.

He actively reaches out to affirm her again with cheer.

Look how happy she is!

While it’s most obvious and clear cut here, it’s hardly the only case. Let’s look back to the aftermath of Andy and Leyley and the VERY VERY QUIET!!! (I’m not using the other name). Leyley is, after similarly extreme acts — he murdered a girl and hid her body for her — convinced Andy doesn’t like her and she needs this leverage to keep him around, to meet her basic needs for survival. Because that’s what this is — she receives no care of affection elsewhere, so she forces it out of the only source she sees available through the means she sees as necessary.

I really hope we see some of their earlier childhood in Episode 3

What exactly made her like this? Was it just neglect, or something more specific…

She needs this to be the case because otherwise she doesn’t believe he’d stay.

This pattern repeats throughout — Ashley’s insecurities are hit on and she reaches out to Andy to affirm that she is not alone, and she will use any and every tool to exploit her ostensible control over him and force him to be what she needs him to be — and as long as she has that, as long as she is everything to him and it’s not possible for him to leave, she’s happy. As long as she thinks he loves her in her very particular, very peculiar view of love, she’s content, come what may. As long as Andy and Leyley are together, they can take on the world.

Let’s talk about that view of love, because there’s always more layers to unpack here I’m only scratching the surface with this essay — Ashley consistently refers to anyone else Andrew may have befriended or spent time with as a whore, a slut, a bitch — highly gendered insults that bring to mind the idea that he’s cheating in some way. But it’s not even about sex — when Andrew mentions that their parents had friends, she accuses them of cheating on each other in the same way!

There’s a lot to unpack about Ashley’s view of femininity and the role the patriarchy plays in their relationship.

Any kind of emotional engagement, any kind of commitment, any kind of life outside of your significant other is, to Ashley, cheating. Because that’s what she needs from Andrew, a seeming complete and total commitment, secure in her place as the only thing in his life, because she cannot understand anyone picking her if they have a choice.

This insecurity she has in her relationship is what drives her to empower the trinket — he can’t leave her as long as she can protect him with prophetic dreams, after all. She needs every kind of leverage she can get because until she succeeds in being everything to him, in devouring him so completely she has him in her thrall mind, body and soul she can’t be sure of herself — hell, her dream sequence in Burial has you placing Andrew’s signature green plushy, ‘the best thing in the world’ in a cage far away from anything else.

Ultimately, it really is all about Ashley — even her seeming obsession with Andrew ultimately comes back to her own insecurities. If she is everything to ‘the best thing in the world’, some of that ‘best’ must surely reflect on her! 

But that’s enough about the more normal, straightforward and understandable sibling. 

That was not a joke.

Andrew’s Rank 100 Deception

The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he did not exist.

Let me explain.

You might have noticed that in the previous section I often use language such as ‘ostensibly’ or ‘seemingly’ to describe Andy and Leyley’s relationship, and there’s a good reason for that. From the beginning of the game through to its end, Andrew is lying to you, the player, without ever falsely representing or misinforming you about events that occurred.

The common, or obvious ‘initial take’ on Andrew as presented in Episode 1 is fairly straightforward. The game primes you to think this way, it frames things and strings reveals just right so as to make it very easy to overlook the incongruities it introduces in Episode 2. He’s a victim. Plain and simple, Ashley is his abuser and he is her victim and would be fine, a normal albeit kinda depressed guy without her.

It really is not a difficult conclusion to draw

You can go all the way through the game, have him try to accept his mother’s olive branch and enter the Decay route as a method for him to finally actualise his desire to get out from Ashley’s thumb and it makes sense, it’s a reasonable way for the story to go, given his character.

You see him this way because the game primes you in Episode 1 to view their relationship like Andrew does — he’s lying. He’s lying to himself, he’s lying to Ashley and he’s so good at it — Deception Rank 100 — he even lies to you. Without misrepresenting a single event or otherwise misleading you directly, the game gets you to buy into his preferred self-perception. Nina? Ashley. Julia? Ashley. The murders they commit in the course of the game? Ashley, Ashley, Ashley, it’s not his fault he’s not to blame he’s just a doormat at the beck and call of his demonic sister.

But he wants to be there. From the very outset, the very first puzzle, that’s made clear. Does anyone else remember this exchange, from right at the beginning of the game?

Ashley wants to investigate the music!

Andrew disapproves…

…Or does he?! 

Like. Listen. Okay. You do not frown when saying ‘Nope’ and then smile when saying that you’ll instead tag along if they do it if your heart is at all in the no. That’s not an objection, that’s using Ashley as his excuse. Especially if you immediately throw her the balcony key that she could not possibly have gotten from you by force (more on Andrew’s ability to use force later).

This is the very first time you control both characters together with Andrew following Ashley instead of off on his own, the first adventure, the first puzzle! 

But put a pin in that for now, let’s talk about his initial framing in Episode 2 first. Episode 1 has set us up to, generally speaking, believe the superficial framing of the siblings as portrayed in its promotional art:

The question that we then ask, right at the heart of it is… why is he a doormat? We explore this in his dream sequence in Episode 2, which does make it clear that the boy’s not okay but— it’s real easy, given the priming from Episode 1 to make you think that he’s the one with the originally functional moral compass, to think that that him being fucked up is damage done to him by Nina’s death and being bound to Ashley for his entire life. She corrupted him.

But, well, is that the case?

You're primed to ignore this as manipulation (which it is) but the best manipulation has some truth to it.

Precisely two things spur Andrew to action in the entire game, consistently — they are the fear of consequences and Ashley. And the first incident of that fear, the very first time we’re shown his seeming moral compass as a kid — the first time it’s really hammered home that it’s a fear of consequences rather than any true moral qualms is after Nina’s death. And why does he fear consequences here?

……

The ‘natural’ read that many take away from this sequence, particularly those who have only played Decay, is that Ashley browbeat him into doing this against his will, using emotional blackmail to overwhelm his objections, and then used the event itself to bind him to her forever as her personal doormat.

In a strict sense, this is true. But this doesn’t match up with the details, something the game uses shock to encourage you to overlook. That outburst is before any kind of threat has been made, and absolutely nothing either of them say anything about it being morally bad until Ashley weaponises ‘you’re a bad person’ against Andrew — morality didn’t seem to enter his mind or the equation at all until Ashley brought it up. More than that, his greatest fear and driving motivation even prior to that is, as shown above, being taken away from Ashley.

She, of course, recognises this and uses it against him. But she never needed to, it didn’t change anything about Andrew’s attachment to her, it was there to address her own insecurities.

Just like to touch on how a lot of his affirmations are preceded by him confirming her insecurities.

I adore this phrasing

There’s a second prong to this as well, to the question of ‘who really calls the shots here’ because — Andrew can, at any stage, apply an ‘ultimate veto’ of physical violence. The game is very clear to the player that that is on the table — even when they were children, when Andy swears their blood oath, he briefly considers killing her — and take note of how he ultimately got a ‘winning’ condition out of her by not specifying there wouldn’t be others and she is forced to accept that, there. Even outside of their most serious confrontations, Ashley is portrayed as having to convince, manipulate or otherwise coerce Andrew into going along with her schemes — she really can’t make him do anything, she doesn’t have the supremacy in violence and, to a lesser extent, capability that would allow her to. 

Andrew, you are like ten years old.

The truth of the matter is, Ashley can only make Andrew do anything because he lets her. I don’t mean in the sense that I’m saying abuse victims let their abusers emotionally abuse them, I mean in the sense that he is clearly considering his options on the table and choosing to discard those that could stop her, or bring an end to any of this. He needs her.

But it’s true that he hates her, too. He has to hate her, because if he doesn’t hate her, if he isn’t forced to have done this, that means… he’s responsible. And nothing, at the start of the story, is as important to Andrew as avoiding the consequences of his own actions, not even Ashley. By the midpoint, he loves her, he hates her, he can’t live without her, he wants to kill her — by the end… well, that depends if you’re on Decay or Burial, but more on that in a bit.

A great scene to study for this dynamic is the climax of Episode 1, when Andrew grabs Ashley by the throat and considers strangling her to death. She’s pushed him too far with hurtful words and assault, and he’s seemingly had enough.

It’s still framed as a question of risk, of consequences happening to him. 

Like, this is not the usual behaviour of someone who’s been pushed past their breaking point.

He tells Ashley that he wants to kill her, because she’s just going to throw another fit and that’s a risk to him. She is… not framed as being able to fight back (she does have a gun here, and more on that in a later essay, maybe). He’s so calculated in how he approaches his use of violence here, which isn’t at all what you’d expect of someone about to commit a crime of passion… but it’s very easy to overlook because of the abuser/victim narrative that the player fits his behaviour into the narrative that the game primes them to accept, brushing incongruities under the carpet.

At the start of Episode 2, we get to control Andrew for the first time, and the first obvious holes in his cover start to show. Some of this is optional — you only learn that he’s been faking having nightmares in order to share a bed with Ashley if you choose to go back into the motel room and check the bed, for example — but not all of it.

----(See reblogs for the second half)

[r0-boat]

I’ve been starving for ZZZ stuff on here, so can I get some first kiss headcanons for Caesar, Zhu Yuan, and Ellen please?

Hello! I would love to do your ask. However, I'm going to switch out Ellen Joe (since she's a minor)for Jane Doe

ZZZ Your First Kiss Headcannons

Gn!reader x Caeser/Jane Doe/Zhu Yuan SFW!!!

Caesar

Oh my god, shut up, shut the fuck up! This is actually happening?! She has literally dreamed about this moment, That's why she hasn't had her first kiss either. And now here you are her partner admitting to her that you never kissed anyone before. She's trying so hard to control herself right now but she's shaking so much the bench is shaking. Damn it where are wingman when you need them!?

Caesar is having an internal war about 40 of her thoughts probably even more stabbing her all at once. As she tries so hard to ring herself in and calm herself down so she can act cool. Probably too late because on the outside to you, Caesar is staring off into space.

You calling her name finally breaks her out, "Cesar are you okay? You're turning red..." Had she been staring off? And you look so worried for. She just sighs and tells the truth "yeah I'm just... A little nervous... This is kind of like a dream come true for me and I haven't kissed anyone either so-"

She was so focused on what she was trying to say. She didn't realize that your lips were pressed against hers. It all happened so fast that all she could feel was gentle pillowy lips against hers before melting.... Wow... Kissing is nice... Kissing is very nice... She's definitely going to get used to kissing.

As soon as you pull away she pulls you back in for another. She will definitely be thinking about this for a long time.

Zhu Yuan

She honestly doesn't mean to make fun of you when she smiles and giggles at that. She just finds it cute. She doesn't judge at all I mean she's definitely kissed people before but was as far as she went when it came to her dating life. And she's actually really happy for you to choose her as your first kiss. She can see why some people think it's special. She was one of those people who thought the same way after all.

"do you want me to initiate or?" She would ask with a smile. Which is nice of her to be considerate but honestly it just makes you more nervous. If you are the one who initiates she will patiently wait for you even if some of your signals are mixed. You're just as awkward as she is.

If you want her to initiate though... She'll make sure it's special. Zhu Yuan is a woman of many properties but what she really Is: is a prepared woman! She scarily knows a lot about you and will use that to your every weakness! Zhu Yuan tends to lean into people pleasing when it's people she really likes. And for this special occasion she leans into it 100%.

A lot of pressure... I know a little intimidating I know... But she just wants to make something that you care about feel special, since you really seem to want your first kiss to be special.

When she finally does kiss you Zhu Yuan kind of accidentally uses her tongue as she gets a little too into it. She's super apologetic about it. While you have no idea where she learned this. But you're kind of into it?

Jane Doe

Awww, That's cute. (Don't worry she's only half teasing) You're innocence is quite refreshing. Jane knows that her presence can be a little intimidating so she always tries to ease people's anxiety and you are no different, especially being her partner.

If it helps, she'll close her eyes if you ask her to initiate. She will ponder for a minute. The offer is tempting... As she currently thinks about the all devious ways she can really tease you, She ultimately declines; she wants you to do it. She wants you to kiss her for your first time What partner wouldn't want that?

Yes she is enjoying this, her tail is swaying much more like a cat enjoying its favorite toy than a rat. Once you finally do. You hear a squeal from her. Like putting her head in her hands and kicking her feet high school girl squeal. She couldn't hold it in anymore...

Jesus how are you so fucking cute!? She's going to have cuteness aggression if you keep doing this to her heart. She wants more kisses She demands more!

She's never ever once thought about the importance of a first kiss till now. She thinks about your first kiss with her a lot.

[gotham-daydreams]

i had a really random idea that activated a neuron in my head and wanted to share here if that's ok— neglected!reader and friend!reader crossover. increased angst potentials, increased relationship struggles.

idk if it's just me, but the cold knowledge and sudden realization that your family was only ever interacting with you to use you as a means of getting close to their original target (who i will be assuming is a friend of yours)? you should be feeling glad that they're finally, *finally* interacting with you, but it just makes you feel more sick. they talk to you, but never want to talk about *you,* if that makes sense, always their target. half-hearted attempts to try and be more discreet, but you can tell they really just want to probe out info about your friend from you. perhaps this even cements your belief that "oh. they're never going to care for me the way i used to care for them."?? im sick i will explode and become atoms for this hypothetical reader's sake. leaving them, and the family realization that in their own selfish goals, they lost something more valuable. only makes sense for them to get it back.

but perhaps it can also be them originally them trying to again, use you as a bridge between said target, only to become more obsessed with you somewhere down the line of continuous interactions. idk lots of thoughts here i am happy big and mentally normal about these giant group of costumed losers !!

I am in love with this idea... especially because you can do it both ways (with the reader either being a part of the fam, or just a 'friend' of one of the Batfam members that they kinda forgot about until now)!

I'll go into Acquaintance! Reader later, so for now I'll focus more on this other neglected sib reader :]

Can you imagine how absolutely heartbreaking finding out that they're just talking with you to get something out of you, at first? Like, okay, maybe reader is suspicious at first, of course, because why the hell is the family starting to acknowledge their existence now? Was it something they did? Something that caught the family's attention? Etc., etc., but the point is that maybe with a little effort and too little time, they begin to have a little hope. They began to think that the family actually cares about them now.

Like yeah, sure, they kind of dismiss their questions when the reader tries to bring up the changes and why things couldn't be like this before, and have an odd habit of giving short answers and moving onto other topics concerning their friend when the reader, again, tries to press even a little bit more for answers or responses, but that's just how it is, right?

It's nothing personal... the reader knows that, and even if it hurts sometimes, it's nothing to worry about, right? Besides, they wanted this... didn't they? They wanted to be noticed, to finally have the family's attention, to have something and they're finally getting that! They should be happy, grateful even... and they are! But... is it so selfish to want more? To want the family and some of their siblings to even be a little interested in the things they do? Instead of just asking about their friend all the time?

Maybe the reader even gets a little jealous, envious, even, as this goes on but I can see them being content with little. Ultimately a little scared to ruin a good thing, and to ruin this for themselves... even if it definitely doesn't feel as good as they had hoped it would be oh so long ago.

... And then, they figure out the truth. Either from overhearing some members of the family talking about it, other friend of theirs points it out/puts that idea into their head, or they just... notice it. Hell, all three of those things could happen - with the reader knowing on some subconscious level that things aren't as they seem and that the family is definitely trying to get something out of them (a thought they had at first, that didn't fully go away), and another friend of theirs (that the fam isn't going crazy over) sort of points out that it looks like the batfam is just using them to get to whoever (and maybe the reader dismisses it at first, but that moment only further plants that idea into their head), and the reader keeps noticing all of these little things from that moment and onward... only for everything to come crumbling down once they finally overhear that conversation.

Once they hear some of the members discussing what they should ask the reader, how they should go about it, and hell - maybe for the irony of it all, maybe even joking about the reader finding out about their little 'ploy'. Even going so far as to laugh and say how the reader will never find out because they're too stupid, too desperate to even really entertain the idea to its fullest. How even if they do think so... well, they can just string poor little reader along and distinguish the idea before it even becomes a problem. How they could use that to just further rope the reader in, and make them feel guilty until they forget all about the very idea of the family just using them... further securing themselves to be one of - if not the only - closest people to the reader, and therefore, much closer to their fixation.

It's... more than just heartbreaking for the reader, but not quite world shattering either. It's some odd in between feeling that hurts all the same. They knew, sure, and they always had the suspicion- but it fucking hurts.

Somehow, knowing hurts more in that moment - just the reader knowing and having their suspicions confirmed hurts worse than anything they've ever felt. It doesn't quite feel like betrayal, or maybe it does - they aren't sure, but at the same time that description doesn't feel quite right. Though that's because they feel partially at fault. Like they did this to themselves, and they do feel guilty, but for only putting themself through this.

They should've known better. They should've listened to their gut. They should've never let this happen- they are at fault as much as the family is...

But can they fully blame themself? They got a glimpse of what it was like to be part of the family. A glimpse into the life they always wanted... could they really blame themself for taking that chance when they saw it? For trying to seize that opportunity even if it was never really there? Could they blame themselves for trying to look past all the signs, because they too wanted something out of it? Because they just wanted to be part of the family that badly, even if it was all a lie?

It hurts, and the reader leaves quietly. They don't burst into the room and confront everyone - no, they just walk away. Too consumed in their own grief and feelings to do much else besides that. I imagine that they don't even make it to their room, and hell, maybe one of the other Batfam members find them, but just looking at them makes the reader cry harder.

If they literally run away from the person, or not, is really up to interpretation at the moment, but either way they manage to find some alone time to themselves, and just... let it all out. The reader, in that moment, allows themself to grieve over the lose of a family they never had, and after all is said and done, I can imagine that they try to distance themselves- but are smart in how they do so.

The reader tries to get the family closer to their friend, while also limiting the amount of the the reader is actually around both the friend and the family. Basically just trying to put everyone in a position where they don't need a middleman - where the reader doesn't have to be involved anymore, and basically just... giving the reader an opportunity to truly distance themself from the family.

Sure, the reader might still try to hang out with the family's current fixation, but I can see them be willing to sacrifice time with that person just to further get away. It hurts to do it, and they don't want to, but they figure that, with enough time, once the family chills the fuck out, they'll hopefully be able to sort of go back to how things were. If not? Then... well, they'll just have to learn how to live with that, and they hope that their friend can forgive them.

Don't get me wrong, I could totally see the reader trying to find ways to get their friend out of the position, but the batfam is one tricky foe.. so they settle for what they can, but maybe they're still trying to do what they can. (Or maybe they think that this is the best course of action since... well, maybe they overheard some other talks afterwards? Who knows)

It could also be that, through the reader's attempt to leave, and them trying to eliminate themself from the equation entirely could be a huge turning point for the Batfam in terms of them turning yandere (aka, if they weren't yan before, they definitely are now. and those that are, are even worse than before). A real "you don't know what you had until it's gone" kinda deal, and it's gotta be hilarious to see the fam just scramble for something, and to kind of 'catch' the reader until they're truly gone... which, to add to the humor- the reader is probably already trying to move out of Gotham by that time LMAO

[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

It’s both exciting and terrifying to be in Chicago when they arrive Thursday afternoon. This is, unfortunately, very often as close to hometown shows as the band gets to these days. They have the night off, before the show tomorrow, when the band will find out if Steve and his friends actually show up to the gig or not. Despite not having a show, the band doesn’t get the whole day off; Paige had booked a few radio interviews before the gig to drum up attention.

He should have seen it coming when the radio host brought up the TikTok exchange. “So, be honest, have you guys coordinated with Harrington and his friends to get him to your show tomorrow?” 

“Not really. Our manager sent info and Steve gave it a thumbs up, but that’s really been it? But we’ve been busy with shows almost every night, and he’s had a lot of travel games the last few days, so we’ll have to wait and see if he’s able to make it out.” Jeff takes over the answer with ease, probably having predicted the attention.

“Did you really not recognize him, Eddie?” The host goads and Eddie lets himself chuckle.

“It may sound kind of ridiculous, but the genuine answer is yeah. I haven’t seen him in, like, 6 years. And, believe it or not, we didn’t exactly run in the same crowds. We knew of one another, I think, but there were hundreds of kids in our school.” Eddie always defaults to the truth in interviews; it’s the simplest route and leaves less room for people to poke holes in the narrative if he’s just honest.

“Will you guys be going to the Blackhawks game on Saturday?”

“We’ll just have to wait and see, man,” Gareth laughs, and just as quickly as the segment started, it’s over with their own latest hit playing them out of the studio.

A Thursday night off in the city wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but the band collectively made a trip to the bar closest to their hotel for wings and a few drinks. One of the guys must have posted something on social media about being out because as Eddie’s walking into his hotel, he happens to check his TikTok to find a message waiting for him.

harrington94 should I take it personally that you guys went out in my town and didn’t ask for recs or anything? 

eddiecc I honestly figured you’d be too busy and didn’t want to bother you.

harrington94 never too busy to show a friend around town. But I do appreciate having a down day, so thanks. 

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure how to answer as he processed Steve’s message. Friends? Is that what they were? Could they even really consider one another that? He ultimately decided not to think too much of it, in favor of keeping the conversation going. Maybe the more they talked, the less awkward the next two nights would be.

eddiecc I totally get it if you want to skip the show in favor of another down day.

harrington94 no backing out on me now, Munson. I’ve finally got the cool card with the Party. We’ll be there, no doubt.

Eddie feels a little smile creep over his face and his ears feel a little warm, but before he can answer that, text bubbles pop up again. He waits to see what else Steve is going to say before he does something embarrassing.

harrington94 now feels like a safe time to confess that I haven’t really listened to much of your music, though, so don’t think I’m rude if I’m not headbanging along with the boys.

That was more like the interaction Eddie had expected from their TikTok exchange. He never expected Steve to know their music and was shocked he even knew their band name when his response had been posted on TikTok.

eddiecc I honestly cannot exactly say I’m surprised to hear this. You never exactly struck me as a headbanger, anyway.

harrington94 i feel like that’s some kind of thinly veiled insult that I’m missing, but you’re not wrong.

The text bubbles appear again, and Eddie waits for him to finish the thought rather than respond.

harrington94 why don’t you text me instead? It feels easier than paying attention to this app I don’t really know how to use.

Eddie was quick to copy the number Steve sent and shoot off a text, weirdly enjoying the exchange the two were having and not ready to call it a night just yet.

__________

A particularly ridiculous meme from Eddie had Steve snorting from his spot lounging across the sofa. The next thing he knew, a pillow was flying at his face. He was able to react quickly enough to block it with his arm, dropping the phone to his chest, before glaring at Robin. She was watching him from the recliner across the living room.

“What the fuck?” He asks, tossing the pillow back in her general direction, more gently than she’d tossed it his way.

“You’re grinning at your phone like you’re setting up a hot date. Please don’t tell me you’re talking to Heidi again.” Robin pleads dramatically, twisting her body in the chair to face him. 

“I’m not grinning at my phone, shut up.” He grumbles, ignoring how hot his neck feels as he blushes. Instead, he picks his phone back up to finish the thought he’d been typing before he’d been interrupted. “I’m just texting with Eddie, that’s all.”

Robin’s eyes widened immediately, and she sprung from the recliner toward the sofa. “Give me your phone!” She demands, grunting as she fell face first into the sofa, missing Steve by an inch. He manuveres away from her without looking up from his phone, making his way down the hall to his room. “Steve, come on!”

“It’s not a big deal! We’re just talking! It’s fine!” He insists, tucking the phone into his back pocket as he turns into his bedroom.

But maybe it was a big deal? Steve couldn’t tell; this was the part he was never really good at. He had a tendency to miss signs everyone else thought were obvious, and he didn’t want to risk making things weird with Eddie if Robin thought he was missing something that wasn’t actually there. The texts with Eddie had shifted from Steve confessing his knowledge of Corroded Coffin was strictly limited to whatever the Party played in the car when he drove them places, to Eddie confessing he knew next to nothing about hockey. It seemed to level the playing field between the two of them, and at least made Steve feel more at ease about the time they’d be spending together between the concert and the game. 

When Steve had asked how the tour was going so far, Eddie had shared a link to an instagram, where fans were finding something to meme from each night of the shows. To which Jeff and Gareth were making memes in response, picking on one another in a way that felt like with some of his teammates. The message that had prompted the most reaction from Steve was the last thing Eddie had sent before Robin threw the pillow; a meme of Eddie looking confused, which Jeff had edited “So he’s not Joe Jonas?” over his head.

In his room, Steve leans over to pick up his charger, but he feels his phone lift free from his pocket. “Hey!” He calls after Robin, who’s sprinting down the hallway, laughing like the menace she is.

“I just want to see what you’re talking about!” Robin says, unlocking his phone. He’s just about to catch up to her, as she slides on her socks into her bedroom, closing the door behind her, right in his face. 

“You’re being a child, Robs, c’mon. Give me my phone back.” He sighs, resting his forehead against the door. He jiggles the handle, but as he’d guessed, she’d locked it behind her.

“Do you like him?” She asks through the door, and he sighs again.

“I don’t know,” He answers, honestly and exhaustedly. “I don’t even know him, you know? We weren’t friends, it’s not like I could tell you anything about him other than Tommy used to buy weed from him and he would stand on tables and yell in the cafeteria.”

There’s a long silence before Robin opens the door, meeting Steve with a little smile. She shoves the phone back into his chest and pats his hand when he takes it from her. “I think this could be good for you. That this could be good for you.”

“I’m trying not to read too hard into it.” Steve mumbles, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair nervously. He glances back down at the screen, to see what while Robin had taken the phone, Eddie had sent another text.

Eddie: How were your games? Are you doing anything special for your day off?

It makes something twist in his chest, that Eddie even cares, and he doesn’t quite know why. It must show on his face, some part of how he’s feeling, because Robin just smiles and nods. Maybe she knows how he feels, part of their weird unspoken telepathy, because she walks further into her room and pats the edge of her bed as she goes.

“Are you going to let me paint your nails for the concert?” She asks. Everything inside of Steve appreciates how she always knows when to give him space to try and figure his shit out on his own.

“Obviously.” He laughs softly, following her into the bedroom to sit on her bed and watch her move around collecting things to paint his nails.

~~~

The following day, Steve spends more time than he would like to admit picking out an outfit to wear to the concert. He can hear the Party starting to get antsy in the living room, even though they’d still be plenty early if they left right now, so he decides to just roll with the white shirt and fitted khakis he’d dressed himself in several hours ago before he started overthinking his choices. He finished the outfit off with a black zip-up fleece and black and white Nikes. 

A final check of his hair had him walking out of his room and into the living room, where chaos erupted.

“It’s about time!” Dustin exclaims, practically bouncing up and down with excitement on the sofa.

“It took you that long to come out looking like that?” Mike asks, but Max just snorts and shoves his shoulder.

“Let’s just go.” Steve rolls his eyes, glancing over at Robin who jingles car keys she’s already holding, before leading the way out of the apartment.

In the car, he shoots Eddie a quick text to let him know they’re on the way. Eddie’s quick to reply, giving the message a thumbs-up reaction. Unbelievably, the Party somehow manages to get even louder than usual once they were inside, and it doesn’t take long for a security guard to find them. They’re led through the back tunnels of Wintrust Arena, and Steve gets a little nostalgic for playing hockey in college. He’s snapped out of it when a girl passes out their pass lanyards and gives each of the Party a voucher for free drinks and snacks. 

“This is too much, really,” Steve protests as she hands him the voucher, but Paige insists with a kind smile. 

“We get this kind of stuff from every venue and rarely get to use it to its full extent. The guys want to do this for you and your friends, just enjoy it.”

The Party loads up on treats at the nearest food station, while Steve and Robin grab beers with Paige. As she collects her drink, Paige hands Steve a palm-sized bag of earplugs. He frowns at them, which makes her laugh. 

“Eddie said this isn't really your usual kind of scene, and these shows can get loud,” she taps her own ears to show she has similar earplugs in. “Should also help prevent headaches or anything else that might keep you off the ice tomorrow.”

“Please, he’s too stubborn to stay off the ice. The amount of migraines he’s played through is outrageous,” Dustin bounds back into the conversation, earning a chuckle from Robin. Steve throws his arm around the younger boy’s shoulders, pulling him just a little too close and too tight. Dustin exaggerates choking noises, flailing around and making a scene, but Steve refuses to let up.

_____

There’s more anxiety than usual thrumming through Eddie as he and Jeff make their way through the arena, to where Paige had said she’d take Steve and his friends for snacks. As they walk up on the group, however, Steve quickly pulls a younger boy with a head full of curls into a headlock. He lets the scene continue for a moment before he nudges Jeff.

“At what point fo you think we should intervene?” He asks with a smile, making Jeff chuckle. Steve, however, freezes, then shoves Dustin away. He turns to give Eddie a sheepish smile, and Eddie can’t help but raise an eyebrow. 

Steve lets out a huff of a laugh, running his fingers through his hair, shrugging and tipping his head in the boy’s direction. “This is Dustin. He’s like my little brother. I’m allowed to pick on him when he’s being a shithead.” Dustin nudges his elbow into Steve’s gut, who’s quick to smack his arm in response. Before Eddie can stop himself, he’s twisting a curl around his finger and biting back a grin. He does, however, make a conscious effort to not chew on his hair. He knows he’d never hear the end of it, fawning over Steve Harrington after a whole 10 seconds.

Eddie offers a hand out to Dustin, hoping Jeff and Paige would let his little tells fly under the radar. Just this once, they seem to, as he greets the Party. “Hey man, I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you.”

“I know who you are, holy shit, man.” Dustin eventually fumbles through, shaking Eddie’s hand and grinning up at him. 

Steve rattles off the introductions for each kid, like a proud mom, and Eddie greets each of them politely, but his eyes keep falling back on Steve. He catches his little smiles and the way he nudges different members of the Party, squeezes their shoulders, ruffles their hair. It’s gentle and sweet and it sends a warm feeling through Eddie’s chest. His smile softens as he watches their interactions. All too soon, Freak leans into the area they’ve gathered in and whistles.

“Shit, guys, we gotta go.” Jeff sighs, and Eddie pats his shoulder before he turns back to the group with a grin. 

“Just hang with Paige and try not to get into too much trouble, we’ll get drinks after?” Eddie asks, looking at Steve, who smiles back and gives a little nod.

As Eddie runs to catch up with Jeff and Freak, he wonders exactly what he’s gotten himself into here.

____

It’s more fun than Steve expects, the concert. The excitement of watching the show from the suite quickly bores the Party, as they realize it’s the same as watching hockey games from a guest box. They eat their snacks and drink some through the openers, but during the break before Corroded Coffin, Lucas and Dustin drag Steve around to the side stage. Robin promises to stay with the others, and reminds Steve to wear the earplugs. 

He’s grateful Paige had slipped them to him as they get beside the stage and he realizes just how loud the crowd is when the lights go down. From where they’re standing sidestage, he can see Eddie, Jeff, Gareth and Freak in a little huddle. They bounce around with their arms around each others backs, before yelling something Steve can’t quite make out. They’re handed their instruments by the crew. As they’re taking the stage, Eddie walks up in their direction and pokes his tongue out at them, before ripping into a guitar riff to make his entrance. 

Despite himself, Steve finds his head bobbing along to the drum beat, and even sings along to the songs he recognizes. It’s hard to take his eyes off Eddie through the whole production. He’s a little ball of energy, bounding around from one end of the stage to the other, bantering with the other guys in the band and drawing the fans into his chaos during talking breaks. During a drum solo, Eddie climbs onto the front of the kit and holds his guitar up in the air over his head. Steve watches, mesmerized, as Eddie holds his gaze for a moment that feels like an eternity but is probably only a few seconds. Eddie winks at Steve, then, before he leaps back into yet another riff. It shouldn’t have had so much of an impact, but Steve finds it kind of takes his breath away.

It’s over before long, and Paige is quick to guide Steve and the boys back to the club box. He smiles as they walk behind Dustin and Lucas, gushing over how great the show was. Back in the box, Steve and Paige agree to meet across the street at Fatpour. He charms his way into using the upstairs as a private room with a signature to the manager and flashes a smile and wave to the few people downstairs who seem to have recognized him. 

The band makes a loud entrance as the Party works their way through appetizers, and Eddie is quick to find his way to Steve. “You seemed to have enjoyed yourself, was it more fun than you expected?” He asks around a grin.

“I never said I wasn’t going to have a good time,” Steve defended through a smile, making Eddie laugh and Steve thinks that might be the best sound he’d heard all night, despite having just seen the concert. Eddie glances around then, locking eyes with a bartender to get their attention.

“What’s your poison?” Eddie asks in the most cliche way, wiggling his eyebrows a little, but Steve shakes his head.

“Strictly on water tonight. Gotta get up early tomorrow.” He says, and Eddie softens and nods. Once their drinks are in front of them, he holds his glass up to Steve in a mock toast.

“To making it the fuck out of Hawkins?”

“Cheers to that.” Steve laughs, clanking their glasses together and taking a sip.

“Any reason you stayed in the Midwest?” Eddie asks, before he can stop himself. “Sorry, you don’t have to… you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“Nah, it’s… a few reasons. Couldn’t go too far without them, and most of ‘em followed me here, anyway. And then the chips fell and I ended up on the Blackhawks and there’s kind of no other team I’d rather play for.” Steve explains, leaning a little closer to Eddie with a smile. “Speaking of; are you ready for the game?”

Eddie can’t help but grin back at Steve and laugh a little. “You know, I honestly have no idea what I’m getting in to here. All I remember from watching games on TV is that it’s violent.”

“Not always.” Steve defends quickly, before showing a slight mercy. “It’s cold in there, because of the ice. You’ll want to wear layers.”

“Layers. Noted.” Eddie stores the information away for tomorrow, suddenly concerned he hadn’t even thought about an outfit for the game before the conversation.

As they talk, Robin appears with a basket of cheese curds but pulls it away as Eddie reaches to take one. 

“What’s your favorite movie?” She asks, and Steve laughs and shakes his head at her.

“Is this a quiz? I’m not good at tests, I flunked out of senior year.” Eddie whines before he stops to think about it. “Uh, well. The answer you’d probably expect from me is Almost Famous, but it’s actually a close second to Dead Poets Society.” 

She narrows her eyes at him but slides the basket in his direction. “I can’t tell if you picked either of those because you thought it was the answer I wanted, or because they’re actually your favorite, so I have to give you curds.”

“They’re actually my favorites!” Eddie laughs around a mouthful of cheese curds.

“Dead Poets is one of Robin’s favorites, too.” Steve offers, and Robin nods.

“Steve will tell you his favorite movie is Risky Business, because he thinks Tom Cruise is hot, but it’s actually Go Figure. You know, the Disney movie about the ice skater who joins her school’s hockey—” Robin is grinning until Steve clasps a hand over her mouth.

“Robin is incredibly annoying when she wants to be,” He grumbles, and Eddie can’t help but laugh at their antics.

“Well, now you’ve got my attention. If Go Figure isn’t your favorite movie, what is?” Eddie asks.

Steve thinks for a moment. “I think Back to the Future feels like a safe answer.” He shrugs, and Eddie glances at Robin to gauge her reaction. She seems to approve, as she gives Steve a soft smile, pats his back, then stands from their table.

“I’ll leave you two alone, I suppose.” She says, leaning close to both of them. “Behave, got it? No funny business before the game.”

Steve flushes and flounders a little, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he just huffs and takes a sip from his water. While Eddie feels his whole face get hot in a blush, he can’t help but laugh a little.

“Is there funny business we could have gotten up to?” He dares to ask, and it’s worth it just to watch the way Steve blushes and bites at his lip. 

“Maybe. But I guess you’ve got to wait until after tomorrow’s game to find out.”

________________________________________________________

Wow! Thank you all so much for the overwhelming support you’ve shown this little idea I had! I might just keep this going as a series, with updates on Mondays (Tuesdays at the latest). This is also double the word count of part 1, oops, lol.

I'm going to try to tag everyone in the replies because I hit the character limit! Tumblr wouldn't take them all, so sorry to everyone I missed, I still love you and appreciate the support!

[yeeterthek33per]

Loved and Landed (Steph Catley x Reader)

A/n Requested

-------

Steph lives a busy life.

There's her football life. Obviously.

There's her schooling life.

There's the life she lives with her friends and family.

And then there's the life with-

"Steeeeeph, come on, I wanna get there early, I'm not dealing with Katie leaving something for me to find, again."

There's incessant tugging at the sleeve of her red Arsenal hoodie.

Of course, her football life keeps her the most busy.

Especially when she has to drive it to and from home all of the time now that Kyra's living in the house as well.

It had been a hectic process, but the young midfielder had settled in quickly, taking in the familiarity of the Aussie herself and her club teammates' closeness around them.

Quickly becoming a child amongst the older girls on the team, much like a sibling to them, within but a few months.

That being said.

Kyra was a little shit.

And she knew it too.

A demanding one at that.

Hence why Katie had taken to knocking the young brunette down a few pegs.

Her cockiness was starting to show under the protection of the older girls, so the Irish captain had been messing with her enough to take the invincible mindset away from her.

Leaving her ultimately latched onto Steph now.

A lot.

"Seriously, Steph, please, I can't deal with her leaving shaving foam in my boots again."

The older woman raises an eyebrow at the pleading look on Kyra's face.

"You did this to yourself, Ky. Katie's only retaliating because you decided you were king shit enough to put hair dye in her shampoo."

The younger girl whines.

"Don't you think she's retaliated enough? I've had my shoes violated, my shin guards replaced with slightly smaller ones. I mean, the other day, my water bottle was filled with pickle juice. Pickle Juice! For gods sake."

Steph sighs, rolling her eyes slightly, grabbing the last of her stuff to shove into her pack, she gestures to the front door, to which the midfielder eagerly hurries out of and towards the car, waiting impatiently for the defender to unlock it.

"You've seriously gotta apologise to Katie or something. The girl has ten siblings, I can't imagine she hasn't spent her whole life dealing with bratty behaviour from little shits like you."

Kyra scoffs as she hurriedly buckles herself in.

"Rude."

"The truth."

Steph smirks at the small pout that forms on the other girls lips.

"Hurry up and drive."

"So bossy."

-------

As expected, they arrive with hardly any other people around, decidedly much earlier than any of the other girls. Katie wasn't the earliest of player's anyway, so Kyra really shouldn't be worried about her beating them there.

Still, the youngin looks exceptionally nervous as she peaks into the changing room and gingerly makes her way over to her cubby, scanning it with a ridiculous level of detail.

Steph can only shake her head, watching the young girl sheepishly wander around the room, checking for what may well be hidden traps.

Maybe she should talk with Katie about getting her to take it down a notch.

The Irish woman was nothing if not relentless when it came to getting back at someone.

The last thing the team needed was a midfielder with serious trust issues stemming from their infamous yellow card magnet of a winger.

"Ky, relax. She's not even here yet."

"Yeah, but you never know."

"Seriously, it's game day, relax, she won't-"

"Oh, hello, you two. Stephy. Kyra."

The ever so loud and joyful Katie enters the changing room with a bang of the door as it slams open and hits the wall.

Her smirk quirks up a little wider at the sight of the midfielder, who's looking rather sheepishly around her rather than at the Irish woman herself.

"You two extra early today, eh?"

"Ha, something like that."

Steph gives her a look as she nods in Kyra's direction.

"Give the poor girl a break, would ya? I think she's been thoroughly humbled."

Katie snorts in amusement, eyeing her up.

"Eh, she’s fine. I wasn't gonna do anything."

Steph raises a brow at that.

"....Yet."

There it is.

"Of course. Don't mess around too much, though. We still have a game to play, McCabe."

She lets out an unconvincing hum in response, right as some of the other girls start to filter in, Caitlin one of the ones to settle into her cubby beside the defender.

"What's up with the kid?"

Steph snorts.

"Ask your girlfriend. She's been torturing the poor girl."

Caitlin rolls her eyes, turning to Katie, who's now got a cheeky glint in her as she eyes up the younger of the three.

"Katie."

"What? I didn't do any-"

She stops at the look she gets from the Australian, grumbling as she relents and turns back to her cubby.

-------

Kyra's finally able to escape the locker room out of sight of the defender the moment the Irish woman is distracted.

Heading down the hall towards the physio room, she ends up coming face to face with and bumping face first into someone.

She groans when she rubs at her face and her backside from where she landed on it as she stands up again with the help of her assailant.

The person is stood in a royal navy uniform, a patch on her shoulder with three horizontal gold stripes and a small circled loop on the top, hair slicked back and tight into a bun behind her head.

'L/n-Catley' the name badge reads.

Confusion crosses her face which you quickly notice.

"You're Steph's teammate right?"

"Uh yeeaah? Who are you?"

"It's a long story and sorry about the bump there. I uh, I don't know if y'all know yet but I might need your help. The staff were nice enough to let me in but I need an escort here."

"Where are you going?"

"I got told to wait for one of the trainers in the staff room?"

"Can I ask what you're doing?"

"Waiting to see Steph, but don't tell her, it's supposed to be a surprise."

Kyra is extremely sceptical, but she leads you down the hall to where the trainers are situated and one of them recognises you immediately, hugging you and dragging you into the room.

She's even more confused when the staff member is nearly in tears.

Wait.

Navy uniform.

Here to see Steph.

L/n-Catley on the name badge.

There's no way.

"Are you... Are you married to Steph?"

You chuckle softly, rubbing the back of your neck.

"Yes I am. If you can't tell it's been a little while since we've seen each other."

"Yeah, I can tell, her house is far too empty for the size of it."

"Ah, so you're the new roommate. Kyra, right?"

"She's been talking about me?"

You nod.

"We would call every two weeks. When she found out you were moving to Arsenal, I couldn't tell if she was happy or mad because you'd already trashed her white towels."

"Hey! That was not my fault, the wine just fell... on it's own."

There's a sheepish look on her face.

You chuckle softly.

"She'll be fine, the pattern was ugly anyway, we needed new towels... Don't tell her I said that."

Kyra smiles at that.

"It's great to meet you, then... How are we planning this out?"

"I'll have my sister here sneak me somewhere I can wait and surprise her at the end of the game."

She nods.

"Alright, I better get going then before the girls come looking for me for pitch inspection."

You nod back and give her a warm smile.

"Oh, I'm Y/n, by the way, Lieutenant Commander Y/n L/n-Catley."

-------

The roar of the almost entirely red and white crowd as the girls enter the pitch is as usual, deafeningly loud.

Home games are always the most adrenaline instilling games, ones where their fans are always the loudest, chanting and screaming every time one of their own touches the ball.

Steph can still hardly believe it.

The growth in the game. Breaking records every single home match so far.

The FA Cup semi-final was no different it seems.

Her eyes subtly scan the crowd as she jogs out behind the others, shifting from clapping fan to clapping fan. There's an air about the crowd.

A massively high inducing air, one that she can feel in every nerve ending in her body as she practically bounces around the pitch in warmups.

She brushes it off as it being a semi final type of high.

Aston Villa would be a difficult opponent and she assumed that was the reasoning.

-------

It seems she's proven wrong in the first ten minutes.

It doesn't take long for Stina to score, the home crowd immediately losing their minds, and they barely have time to recover just two minutes later when the Swede swoops in for the double.

By the fourty-fifth minute, they know they have the game. Four to nil over the Villans thanks to a Stina hattrick and a goal from Frida. Her heartbeat is thumping in her ears as they approach the final minute.

This is the part they're in the dark. How many minutes left of stoppage? How much longer does she have to defend?

The players are taught not to worry about that. To just play until the whistle blows. And she does.

But she can't help the nagging awaiting of the whistle, wondering when it will go.

The moment it does, there's celebration, relief, and a lot of cheering and screams and congratulation from the air around.

A pair of arms and legs wrap around her from behind as Kyra jumps on her back, the young Australian whooping into her ear.

"Onto the finals, Stephy!"

The defender chuckles and celebrates with the team, the announcer shouting out the home teams win to wind up the crowd once more.

As they do the celebration walk around the pitch, the announcer announces player of the match, and then one more announcement catches her ear.

Her head snaps toward the tunnel the moment she hears it, heart stopping at the words of the female announcer.

"And finally, one last round of applause. Let us congratulate and welcome back someone very special to one of our own. Lieutenant Commander Y/N L/n-Catley returning from fifteen months of duty at sea with the Royal Navy."

And truly, there you are, her wife.

Dressed to the nines in your Black, long sleeved uniform, hands clasped behind you, standing with a wide, almost teary smile as you watch Steph bolt across the pitch towards you, catching her with little effort as she jumps into your arms, knocking the cap off your head with the force.

The rest of the Arsenal girls stand shocked, looking between themselves and their left back at the sudden appearance of a totally new member of the Catley family.

Before they can even try to work out who you might be to Steph, the defender has her lips pressed to yours tightly, tears streaming down your face.

The sensation of finally being able to kiss you, her wife. HER wife, has her trembling against you, her stomach twisting and curling as you hold her tight against you, your own hands shaking as they rest on her back.

It had been the longest stint you'd gone without seeing each other, having been on a cramped ship for the majority of that time.

Even having been used to long times apart, the immense relief of being able to hold your person, your love, YOUR wife, after so long. was like nothing else you'd ever experienced.

And you were glad you had all the time in the world to experience it now.

When Steph's finally able to pull back and look you in the eye, hands holding your face, eyes scanning your features, noting a small scar under your right brow, and then returning to make eye contact again with you, albeit very tearily, much like yourself.

Lifting your own hands, your thumbs swipe away the tears on her cheeks, leaning down once more to kiss her, forehead leaning against hers.

You take in the immensity of the screams of the crowd all of a sudden, especially the crowd around the players' tunnel.

With that, she buries herself back into your hold, her nose buried into the crook of your neck.

Your eyes scan the pitch, watching the applauding or shocked expressions of the players.

You'd already known her teammates didn't know she was married, however their shocked expressions still have you chuckling.

All except Kyra's wide smile as she watches the two of you and you give the girl a wink.

"I can't believe it. You're here."

It's half whimpered into your shoulder, and you just barely hear it over the crowd.

"I'm here. I'm home."

"They finally let you on leave?"

She's using a half joking tone beneath the watery chokes and sobs.

"Better than that, Love."

She pulls away shocked.

"You mean.."

You smile down at her teary eyed.

"I'm home for good, not retired but they're giving me an office in London. Full time hours still but I won't be needed for duty anymore."

She frowns softly after a second.

She knew you'd always hated the idea of an office job.

Catching the look on her face, you knew what she'd be thinking about.

"I don't care where it is, or what I'm doing. I'm just glad I'm home, with you. I've had my fill of travelling and front line work for a lifetime."

Leaning your forehead back against hers, you let the moment sink in.

You'd known it was coming for months now, haven spoken to your superiors, and them letting you know there was a position available remotely, you'd taken it in a heartbeat.

If it meant coming home to your girl, you'd have done anything.

A small throat clearing a couple feet from you, the team had moved to stand around the pair of you, eager to ask questions of the brunette in your arms.

You nudge her softly with a small giggle in her ear.

"Babe, I think they have questions."

"They can wait a little longer."

You don't fight her on it just letting her settle into you again, holding you tightly.

The moment she does let go, she's grabbed by the shoulders and interrogated by the team rather swiftly.

Leah stands arms crossed.

"Now Stephy, when did this occur?"

Steph sheepishly smiles around her at her.

"Alright alright, Gunners, meet my beautiful wife, Y/n. She's been in the navy since she turned eighteen, we met five years ago when she was on leave in Australia. We started dating less than a month later and she left on duty about four months later. We got married after three years, bought a house right before she left a year and a bit ago. We haven't seen each other in person since then. Until now, that is."

And just like that, you're immediately dragged into the group rather swiftly, squished into several hugs.

A firm handshake and then a tight hug from their captain, especially. The Scot making firm well you know how quickly she'd bury you should you hurt their defender, despite the fact you'd known Steph longer and you chuckle, nodding in agreement at the stern look turned cracked smile she lets go.

When you're finally free, Steph takes no time tucking herself under your arm and wrapping hers around you, looking up at you slightly with a proud, elated smile, eyes still slightly teary.

Returning the expression, you press a small kiss to her nose.

"Welcome home, Baby."

You shake your head.

"Congrats on the win, Baby, this is your moment right now. Go celebrate for a bit, we've got all the time in the world now."

She pouts but relents with a small peck and nudge.

"KYRA, YOU KNEW?!"

The shouts of the Irish captain make her jump but chuckle a little as a gloating midfielder teases the rest of the girls.

Yeah. She was in for it.

-------

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 4.3k words

warnings: explicit language, brief mention of weed, a bit of angst

summary: a power outage leaves you stuck at steve’s apartment for the night

CHAPTER SEVEN | ❝𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌❞

Winter 2015

The call connected after only a few rings. “Hey.”

“Hey, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you too,” Eddie responded. “Did it end up snowing by you?”

“Yeah, only a couple of inches, but it’s still something.” 

“Make a snowman in honor of me and send me a picture.”

You laughed a little. “It’ll be the smallest snowman in the world because there’s barely any snow on the ground, Edward.” 

“I’ll take what I can get.”

“Fine, I’m not gonna do it now since it’s two in the morning, but I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” He said and you could hear the smile in his voice. 

Things became comfortably quiet for a few moments and you kept the phone at your ear as you moved about your kitchen, searching for something to eat and ultimately settling for a bowl of dry cereal. 

“What are you doing right now?”

“Getting a snack.”

“Cereal?”

“Of course,” You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “You know me so well.”

“I think I’ll always remember that because it's such a random thing,” He told you and you laughed at that. 

“What are you doing?”

“Sitting outside smoking.”

“I wish I was there right now,” You told him. “It’s so quiet here because my dad’s not really around. Plus, I really like your hometown.”

“Come here for spring break.”

You didn’t even need to think about his words before you were agreeing. “Okay.”

“Great,” He said. “And you already know about my very loud and obnoxious neighbors, so you’ll like it. It’s rarely ever quiet here.”

You smiled. “Any new stories to share?”

He told you about an argument he overheard yesterday, something about a lawn mower, and then the two of you talked about nothing for the next hour as you leaned back against your kitchen counter eating your cereal and Eddie smoked weed in his front yard. You could tell that he was already tired only half an hour into the call, it was always easy to hear the sleepiness in his voice, but he stayed on for you. You talked until you finally got tired, a yawn escaping your lips as you went upstairs to your childhood bedroom.

“Goodnight. Sorry for keeping you on the phone for so long.”

“No apology needed. I wanted to talk to you.”

You were shaking your head as you got under your covers. “You’re just way too nice to me.”

“I gotta be nice or else I’ll never get my tiny snowman,” He joked and you smiled at that. “G’night.”

“Bye.”

You two hung up then, and you became engulfed in silence and darkness; the soothing and comforting kind that made your eyelids feel heavy. But before you could fall asleep, you thought about the kiss— that quick moment played on what felt like a constant loop in your head. 

At first, you had wanted to just forget about it, and a part of you wished that you simply didn’t remember it like Eddie didn’t. But, the more you thought about it over the last few days that you’d been home, the more it felt easier to convince yourself that maybe it was a good thing that it happened. Because you couldn’t help but still believe that it had to mean something. 

That entire night had to mean something, actually. Eddie didn’t have his date with Chrissy; you still didn’t know the reason why she canceled it at the last second. And he kissed you at that party— even though he didn’t remember it, it still happened.

You considered finally, finally taking the plunge and just telling him how you felt when you both were back from break. Simply letting it out and letting everything else fall into the places that they were meant to fall. And somehow, the thought of finally doing it, finally admitting the truth, didn’t scare you as much as it once did.  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

You tried to figure out if the silence that you and Steve were currently sitting in was comfortable or not. It felt equal parts good and bad, too much and just fine, and weird but also not really. 

You shifted slightly on the couch, which you and Steve were currently sitting on opposite sides of, folding your legs under yourself. Things didn’t immediately become quiet between you two when the power went out. Instead, you followed him, using your phone as a flashlight, as he went to find the candles he had around; there were only three. He lit them and set them on the coffee table in the living room and then that was when you two settled on the couch, a quietness starting to linger. 

It was late, getting close to midnight, and a part of you wanted to go to sleep, but there was no way that you’d be able to do so with how silent it was, and you didn’t think that you’d be able to bear sitting in it all night. Maybe it wasn’t too comfortable after all. 

You were reminded of when you and Eddie met; the broken down elevator and random conversation that forged an immediate friendship. For obvious reasons, this moment was pretty different— you and Steve weren’t strangers, although you definitely didn’t feel that far off from it, and you knew that you’d be at Steve’s place for much longer than you’d been stuck in the elevator with Eddie. 

Because of that, you were abruptly breaking the silence with the first thing that came to your mind.

“Do you remember what your last dream was about?” 

Steve was clearly surprised by the randomness of your question because all he responded with was “What?” and let out a confused laugh. 

“Things are way too quiet right now and that was the first question that came to my mind,” You told him with a shrug. “So, do you remember your last dream?” 

“Um, kinda?” He said and then paused for a moment to think. “I’m pretty sure I was just driving. But, it was in a different country because I was driving on the other side of the road.”

There was something about the mundanity of his dream that was both boring and kind of soothing to hear about. “That’s so normal.”

“What was yours?” 

You were thinking for a second before it hit you; the dream that you’d had a few nights ago that was the most recent one you remembered. “I got pushed off a cliff.”

Steve looked at you. It was too dark to read his expression, the candles weren’t doing much to light up the space, but you imagined it was one of confusion. “That sounds much more like a nightmare than a dream.”

“Yeah, abruptly waking up from that was a great way to start my Friday morning,” You responded. “I rarely remember regular dreams where I’m just doing dumb normal stuff. It’s always those falling ones that stick and they actually happen a lot. Before the cliff thing, I remember one where I was tumbling down a hill.”

“You’re talking about this so normally that I don’t know if I should feel bad or not.”

You laughed a little as you shook your head. “Definitely don’t feel bad. Just please tell me about any recurring nightmares you’ve had before.”

“I used to have this one where I’m playing basketball and then I get injured; broken ankle, broken leg, stuff like that,” He told you, which made you inwardly wince because that sounded a thousand times worse than your falling dreams. “That nightmare doesn’t happen that much anymore now, though. It used to happen a lot right when I actually got hurt playing a couple years ago.”

You nodded at that. “Oh, is that why you stopped?”

“Yeah, that injury was pretty fucked…” His eyes pulled away from yours and focused on something else. You were able to read that pretty easily; his want for the subject to change and shift away from him having to talk about his injury and probably basketball in general. 

“Y’know, I’m just now realizing that we don’t really know anything about each other. Actually, I’m not just now realizing that, I’ve been thinking about it for the past few days. How this whole thing between me and you feels like when you get partnered up on a project with that one person in class that you never really talked to before,” You were pretty much rambling at this point so you decided to stop. “But, yeah, anyway, the sentiment still stands. We know nothing about each other.”

“I think saying nothing is kind of a stretch,” Steve said, eyes meeting yours again. “I know you’re an English major and you love reading, which of course makes sense. And you have a bunch of roommates; you were just gonna have one, but then that changed to three.” 

It didn’t entirely surprise you to hear all of the stuff that he had remembered from the date; it had only been a little over a week ago. What did surprise you was that you couldn’t really say the same. The only things you remembered learning about him were his major and minor, which you already knew, and the fact that he didn’t like reading— you were vaguely reminded of an Italian mouse book series that he had apparently really liked in fifth grade. 

“Oh my god, did I seriously only talk about myself during our date?” You said, suddenly feeling entirely too embarrassed by just how true your words were. “I didn’t think I was that much of a narcissist.”

“You’re not. I just didn’t talk about myself that much,” Steve told you with a shrug.  

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

He sighed. “You’re gonna think I’m an asshole.” 

For some reason, that made you smile. “Now, I definitely wanna hear it.” 

He sighed again and for a second you thought that he just wasn’t going to tell you, but then he was speaking. “I always do that on dates because it’s just the easiest way to keep things surface level and not serious.”

It surprised you that he sounded a little embarrassed to admit that.

“I don’t think that makes you an asshole,” You said, and you were actually being honest. You really didn’t think that him basically putting up walls was an inherently shitty thing to do, but it did sound the tiniest bit sad. You didn’t want to say that, though. “Are you tired right now?” Another conversation shift, solely for the reason that you wanted to keep things simple and easy. This was only the second real and non-fake dating conversation you two were having and you didn’t want it to lead to you two bearing your souls to each other in the dark. It felt way too soon for those kinds of conversations, and you didn’t know if you’d even get to that place with him before the month was over and you two “broke up” and went your separate ways. 

“No,” He answered with a quick shake of his head, which you were glad for because you were nowhere near being tired either. “Are you?” 

“Not even close,” You responded. “Do you have any games we can play or something?”

“I have a deck of cards.” 

“That works.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You two didn’t end up playing any actual card games. Steve attempted to teach you poker, but after only a few rounds you hated it, and there were no other games that either of you could think of with simple enough rules that you could teach him or he could teach you. Therefore, you two instead started playing with the cards themselves, attempting to build little card houses and other things, which was Steve’s suggestion. 

It had been quiet for the past few minutes, but surprisingly comfortably so. You could feel yourself becoming the tiniest bit tired, but at the same time not at all. 

“Do you like living alone?” You asked as you attempted to stand two cards up to make a sort of triangle shape and balance on each other, which actually wasn’t that easy.

“Yeah, definitely,” Steve nodded. You two were sitting on opposite sides of his coffee table and the candles had been moved to the floor— which probably should’ve felt more like a bad idea— to make room on the table. “The roommate I had Freshman year was horrible.”

You laughed at that. “I also had a shitty roommate experience Freshman year, but I still love having roommates…” You trailed off as you tried to think of the perfect way to fully sum up your thoughts toward your current roommate situation. “It feels like summer camp, but without the poison ivy and multiple cases of mono.” 

Steve gave you an amused look. “What kinds of insane summer camps did you used to go to?” 

“Really bad ones,” You told him. “And I hated it every year, but my parents were obsessed with sending me to them— especially after they got divorced— because they worked a lot and didn’t want me to be alone all the time.” 

“Okay, now it makes sense why you like having roommates.” 

You nodded. “Only child and divorced parents. Terrible combo. I hate when things are too quiet.”  

You pulled your eyes away from the cards that you finally managed to make stand on their own to look at what Steve was doing. He was much farther along than you were at building something that actually looked interesting.  

“You’re weirdly good at this,” You said when your cards fell again and instead of immediately trying to stand them back up, you watched as Steve kept building some sort of pyramid. 

He shrugged. “I don’t know why, but I used to always do this when I was bored as a kid.”

“That’s actually quite wholesome,” You told him as you picked up your two cards. A beat of silence lingered for a moment before you were speaking. “So, did you ever go to camp or were your summers spent playing with cards like a bored child in the fifties?”

The laugh Steve let out at your joke made you smile. “I only went to camp twice; when I was twelve and then thirteen. It felt a lot like the kind of summer camp that you’d see in any movie. Lots of lake stuff and campfires and that type of thing. The first year kinda sucked, but the second year was fun. I even had a camp girlfriend.”

You let out an exaggerated gasp. “Wow, you actually had a girlfriend?”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, it was the greatest three-week-long relationship ever.”

What happened? 

That was what you wanted to ask— not what happened to the camp girlfriend because you obviously knew how those relationships went. But what happened to him wanting crushes and relationships and actual feelings? 

You didn’t ask that, though. You felt like you couldn’t; the question felt too deep, too real. And you also thought that it would be kind of pointless to ask it.

“Do you think it’s working?” Steve asked, abruptly pulling you out of your thoughts. 

“What?”

“This fake dating thing. Do you think it’s working for you?” 

“Oh, yeah, sometimes I think it actually is. Like, after game night, Eddie stayed over at the apartment and we watched TV for a few hours and then he randomly asked if I really liked you. I told him yes— obviously— and he said “Cool,” but there was this certain look on his face too. I couldn’t tell what exactly it was, but it felt like something,” You said, thinking back to that Monday night. “But, then, I also think it’s not really working because nothing like that has happened since.”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t know if that’s true. The party a few days ago didn’t feel like nothing.” 

“You think?” 

“Yeah, it looked pretty clear that he didn’t want you to stay with me,” He told you and you weren’t entirely sure how true that was, the end of the night was a little bit of a blur, but you did believe Steve. “Have you ever thought that something was going to happen between you and him before? Like, moments that made it feel obvious or whatever?”

Your mind traveled to the drunken kiss at the frat party Freshman year. A fleeting kiss that felt like a distant memory at this point, and the tiniest bit like a dream. What also felt like a dream, or more so a nightmare, was the day that you came back from Winter break, weeks after the kiss. You had finally worked up the courage to tell Eddie how you felt and you were knocking on his door to do it before you could convince yourself not to. He opened the door after only a second and there he was with Chrissy. 

You didn’t immediately know it was her; at first, she was simply just a random girl wearing his t-shirt. What happened over those next few minutes was Eddie explaining to you that they met up during the last few days of break and the rest was history. They seemed happier than ever and you knew for certain that your chance was gone.

You hated thinking about that moment. You remembered feeling stupidly hopeful, like everything was going to finally fall into place for you and him, and then feeling severely disappointed, but having to hide that with a happy smile. From there you pushed everything to the side— went back to pretending that you felt nothing romantic for your best friend and simply avoided thinking about it altogether. Until they broke up and now here you were back to pining. 

It felt way too embarrassing to admit all of that to Steve right then.

“Um, I don’t know…” You finally said, trailing off and shrugging. “Sometimes it’s hard to differentiate the moments that are solely friendly with the moments that could maybe mean something more.” 

If Steve could tell that you were lying and avoiding saying a lot more, he didn’t call you out on it; which you were glad for. Instead, he simply nodded at your words. 

You pushed up the sleeves of your sweater. “These candles are making it really warm in here.”��

“I can give you something to wear if you want, so you’re not in jeans and a sweater all night.”

You hesitated just for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, that would be good, thanks.”

You followed him to his room and stood by the door as he went to grab something for you. When he handed the clothes over, you saw that it was a t-shirt and basketball shorts. You went to the bathroom to change, keeping the door cracked so that it wasn’t entirely pitch black.

You put on the shorts first and then slipped the shirt over your head. It smelled just like Steve, which shouldn’t have been surprising at all since these were his clothes, but you still were a little startled. Maybe it felt more surprising to you that you were able to easily recognize his smell; that you could get hit with the scent of something that was somehow equal parts musky and sweet and immediately place it as Steve. 

It felt weird and almost too much, and a part of you wanted to take off his shirt, but you knew that it probably would’ve been weirder and more of a big deal if you did. So, you didn’t take it off and instead decided to actively not think about why it had felt weird to you at all. 

When you returned to the living room, you sat on Steve’s side of the table because you wanted to lean back against the couch. The pyramid he had been building was gone and instead, he just had a few cards in his hand. You noticed him yawn, which made you realize that you still weren’t really tired, and you also wondered what time it was. You grabbed your phone off the table to check the time; 1:17a.m.

“Are you tired now?” You asked Steve as you placed your phone back down. You knew what answer you were expecting to get from him, but you still wanted to ask the question anyway. 

“Not really, no,” He answered, and you, of course, didn’t believe him.

“You can go to sleep if you want,” You said, glancing at him. “I’ll be fine out here.”

You probably would end up staying up all night if he did leave you right then, but you didn't want to force him to stay awake with you if he was tired.

“It’s okay,” He said. “Let’s just keep talking.” 

You still weren’t completely convinced, but you nodded at his words anyway. 

“This is random, but sometimes Talia bakes in the middle of the night whenever she’s stressed and can’t sleep,” You told him and then let out a small laugh. “And she’s a very noisy baker. I was woken up many, many times to the sound of a mixer last semester.”

Steve turned his head to look at you. “Isn’t that annoying?”

“A little bit, yeah. But she thankfully got one of those stand mixers that are pretty quiet last month, so now it’s not that bad,” You said, and you briefly thought back to a few weeks ago when she made blueberry muffins on a random Tuesday night. “Also, we wake up to freshly baked muffins in the morning so that makes it okay too.”  

“Okay, yeah, maybe the muffins make it worth it.”  

“Very much so.” 

You poked at a few of the cards on the table, flipping them over and then flipping them back just so you could have something to do with your hands. 

“Tell me about your Freshman year roommate,” Steve said. You’d forgotten that that had been briefly brought up in the conversation earlier. “Any shitty stories to share?”

“Oh, a lot. I’m pretty sure she hated me. She never blatantly said that, but it just felt obvious. Anyway, though, she always brought people over and never told me about it. I lost count of how many times I walked in on her and some guy mid-makeout,” You quickly explained. “That was actually how me and Eddie got really close. He lived across the hall from me, and his roommate was barely ever around, so I would always go over to his dorm when my roommate was being annoying.” 

“Okay, she sounds a thousand times worse than how mine was. He would mainly just leave trash everywhere and play music really loud.”

“That sounds like heaven compared to the shit I had to deal with.” 

“It was still enough to make me never want a roommate again,” Steve responded, putting the cards in his hand down on the table and leaning back against the couch. “I don’t mind the quietness that comes with no one else being here.”

“Okay, this question is very random and probably dumb, but why did you say yes to the blind date thing when Eddie asked you?” You weren’t entirely sure why you asked that, but you were curious, and also finally starting to get a little tired so your mind was moving to even more random places. The kinds of places that it wouldn’t have gone to if your lack of sleep from the night before wasn’t beginning to catch up with you. 

“He made you sound really cool and nice and—”

You stopped Steve mid-sentence. “Okay, wait, never mind, pretend I didn’t ask. It feels weird hearing that, actually.”

“Honestly, I think he probably does feel the same as you. The way he talked about you that day felt different than just how a friend talks about another friend, now that I'm really thinking about it.”

You weren’t entirely sure how to respond to that.

It was hard to tell the difference between having false hope and having expectations that were actually realistic enough to be fulfilled. You didn’t know where this Eddie thing lay. It felt so in the middle, perfectly toeing the line.

You leaned back against the couch and that was when you noticed how close you and Steve were sitting. Your sides just barely touched, the short sleeves of your respective shirts lightly brushing, but you didn’t feel the need to move over. 

“So, if this fake dating thing ends up working for you, and you’re not forced to go to the Hamptons to find your future wife, do you know what you’re gonna do for the summer?” 

You figured that, at the end of the day, if what you two were doing didn’t end up working out on your side of things, at least Steve would hopefully get something good out of it. 

“I’m not sure yet. Maybe go to Europe for a bit with a few friends.”

“That’s very rich kid of you to say,” You joked. 

Steve laughed a little. “Do you know what you’re gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” You shrugged. “But, I do know that it probably won’t include backpacking around Europe.”

The conversation continued moving in different directions from there, but it slowly started to fade out. With both of you saying things that probably didn’t make too much sense and probably wouldn’t even be remembered in the morning because you were falling asleep as you were talking and the lines between what was real and what felt like a dream became blurred. At some point, you were closing your eyes and leaning your head against Steve’s shoulder because you were too tired to think better of it. 

The night had felt entirely unexpected, but you were glad that it happened. You were happy about the stupid storm and stupid power outage. 

Finally, you felt like you actually knew him— not just the stuff that mattered for fake dating. He was your friend now and you were his. Neither of you would end up saying that in the morning or anytime soon, but it felt pretty obvious.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick , @bisexual-and-intellectual

[nevertheless-moving]

Lost Luke AU Part 5

Lost Luke AU (these are not in chronological order)

Part One - - - Part Two - - - Part Three - - - Part Four

meta , dramatic snippet , Is this how Qui-Gon felt on Genosis

amusingly and paradoxically, Luke’s presence in the lost luke au serves as evidence to the Jedi High Council that Anakin doesn’t have an attachment issue, ultimately leading to his knighting. The thought being:

Anakin had visions for a month about his family being in danger that he set aside to do his duty

it’s not until Padme insisted they go to Tatooine that he does anything about them

(of course Padme takes the blame for going to Tatooine)

when he gets to Tatooine, he finds out that his twin brother had already saved their mother, but that his adoptive family had already been killed

“Spoke of your mother, you have. Had a brother, you never mentioned.

“On Tatooine,” Luke says softly.

[Luke is a far better liar than his father, in that he know that the best lies are often the truth from a certain point of view]

“On Tatooine, pregnant slaves don’t receive medical care, not unless they’re being...deliberately bred.”

A wince in the force. Jedi are...Jedi never forget about the slave empire choking the Republic. Never. Not anymore than you forget about the horrors of your world, and in many ways they are far, far more cognizant.

But moments after being forced to choose between the evils of leading a slave army or letting a slave army fight without them, the collective guilt about slavery in general is just a tad raw.

“An owner wouldn’t know about twins until their born. Births are attended, so infants can be chipped immediately, but no one sticks around for the afterbirth. If the second twin is born long enough after...there are freedom networks.”

Here, Luke straightened up proudly. “I am the firstborn Skywalker in my family, and although we never met, I grew up knowing that I was free because of Anakin before me.”

“We never met before a few days ago, but I knew he had to be free, and that had to be enough,” Anakin added. (it’s true enough, if said hesitantly—Anakin always knew he’d see his mother again, and he always knew his son would be freeborn)

So! The council concludes that Anakin was only was drawn back to his bio family where his family needed it, not where Anakin needed it, which satisfies some more than others, depending on their definition of attachment

(ask any council of twelve a question and you’ll come away with thirteen answers)

Obi-Wan, who in between the Battle of Genosis and this meeting got read in on Luke’s whole...everything....is a little more doubtful, but needs must in a time of war and soon enough Anakin is knighted and Luke is employed by the temple’s newly formed military affairs division

Earlier Conversation:

Luke: We have to tell him!

Anakin: But you told me that one of his student’s became a Sith Lord!

Luke: But you can’t seriously think—

Anakin: No, You don’t understand—that means that his student is in the temple, which means that his Sith Master is probably also in the temple.

Luke: Oh kriff, you really think so?

Anakin: the only way the Jedi could’ve been so completely destroyed is if there was a traitor from within, maybe more than one!

Luke: okay, we won’t tell anyone else, but it’s Ben—I mean Obi-Wan—we have to tell him! He’s the only person in my whole life who told me the truth about how incredible you are!

Anakin: Oh—I uh, well! I guess when you put it that way, I—look, it’s just—I don’t want to make him sad, and I also don’t want him to be dissappointed in me for, you know.

Luke: For what?

Anakin: Well, ah, strictly speaking Jedi aren’t supposed to...

Luke: Aren’t supposed to what?

Anakin: uh. havechildren.

Luke: ...oh.

Anakin: yeah

Luke: ... are you disappointed

Anakin: What! No, no, force no, I’m thrilled! I always wanted kids! I just don’t know Obi-Wan’s going to take it

Luke: I mean, he did offer to train me, just because he knew you, and he wanted me to have your lightsaber, and he said a bunch of really nice things about you. so in the grand scheme of things, I don’t think it bothered him that much.

Anakin: Well, as nice as that is to hear, he also voluntarily lived on Tatooine, so, you know. Questionable sanity.

[whorergal]

SHE'S MINE (PART TWO)

summary: after you've been attacked, the group becomes cautious and confused, now being targeted as well. but you still can't get over the fact that ghostface had helped you and why you think you know who it may be. and maybe you wouldn't mind keeping a secret.

warnings: scream vi spoilers, language (cussing), blood, gore. it follows the plot loosely.

pairings: ethan landry x fem!reader

authors note: hiiii i really hope u enjoy :-) also i have no idea if mindy shared the apartment with tara, sam and quinn but if she didn’t, we're just going to pretend she does and i also altered ethan's motive a bit too for this (lowkey was inspired by don't blame me by taylor swift so if you like listening to music when reading, i recommend that song for this part)

———————————————————————————

The hospital visit wasn't as long as you anticipated. Two of the stabs you endured hadn't cut deep so they were able to stitch it upon your first visit and they closed up that same night—it still hurt like a bitch. Your previous stab wound was the worst one overall as the stitching process was a lot more painful because your skin was sensitive as it had been punctured once before.

When you were released, Sam took you under her care. She didn't feel safe having you and Anika alone in your apartment since the attack so she offered her, Tara, Mindy and Quinn's home to you two. It didn't really matter for Anika as she was always there in the first place but it bothered you.

You didn't mean to feel unappreciative but you hated being controlled by useless fear. Whether or not Ghostface attacked you in your home, he would find them someway or another; it didn't matter where you were. But, you agreed in order to clear her conscious.

They didn't ask much questions when you were in the hospital. After the second Ghostface left the apartment, you remembered blacking out and waking up in the hospital bed with Anika by your side. The doctor wouldn't let anyone come in since you were preparing for surgery but decided to let Anika stay since she was your roommate.

Her story was that your security system she had built when you two first moved in had went off when the second Ghostface broke in. Her and Mindy didn't tell everyone before leaving because they didn't want to risk not making it in time. The frat house was only a block down so they just ran their way to your building, ultimately finding your unconscious body on the kitchen floor.

Anika told you that they had met Ethan at the entrance of the building when the ambulance was called and said you called him, which was true but you wondered what took him so long. You were highly suspicious of him but you didn't want to be because he was your best-friend, you couldn't imagine him having anything to do with this.

Ever since that night, he was around, a lot. He even skipped his Econ classes to keep you company because Sam didn't want you to be alone and everyone else was busy.

You didn't ask him about what happened. You were afraid of what the outcome would be. But you knew you had to do something in order to understand. At least interrogating the truth out of him (because he couldn't lie to you) would give you peace of mind—well, depending on the answer.

"You don't have to be here, you know." You broke the silence, watching him write notes from the lecture he was missing.

"But I want to be," he told you honestly.

"E, you're missing Econ. You have an exam this week."

"I'll be fine, don't worry." He looked up from his notebook, putting the lecture video on pause to give you his full attention. "I don't want anything to happen to you again."

"Ghostface rarely attacks in the daytime," you joked.

"Still, Y/N/N." He was being serious. "Your stitches haven't even fully healed yet."

"This isn't the first time." You sighed. "Plus, Ghostface never attacks the same person twice."

"Says who?"

"Says Mindy."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I don't want to take any chances."

It went back to comfortable silence. You went back to reading your book for your English class while he continued to write his notes. After a couple more minutes, you decided to ask the question that had been eating you alive.

"What took you so long?" you asked randomly.

He furrowed his brows, turning to look at you. "What do you mean?"

"When I was attacked," you clarified. "I called you and you said you and Chad were on the way. Anika and Mindy beat you to it and Chad wasn't even with you when you arrived."

Ethan looked away, his face becoming pale. "Well, I went to go find Chad when you were on the call but I couldn't find him so I decided to leave. I didn't realize how much time I wasted until I saw police lights outside your building."

That was the first and final conversation you two had about it. You gathered what you knew from it but, again, you didn't want to believe he was Ghostface. Unless he wasn't and used the costume to throw the other one off. But where could he buy a replica of it that quickly and still be able to make it in time to save you? It didn't make sense.

You kept this realization to yourself. You felt guilty for it, especially because if he was apart of the plan in harming your friends, this smudge of proof could be enough to hold him accountable before it was taken too far. Of course, you didn't listen to yourself and decided to keep his secret that he wasn't even sure you knew because of how much you liked him.

On the third day of your recovery, your stitching was finally beginning to heal. It hurt to bend down and sometimes walk because it worked the muscles underneath the wound but you couldn't stand doing nothing anymore.

You made the excuse that you were planning to meet Ethan at his dorm for the night because you promised to help him with Econ. Sam wasn't exactly keen on the idea, wondering why he couldn't come to meet you here but you told her you were beginning to feel claustrophobic and wanted to get out. She didn't say much in defense and reluctantly agreed.

They all offered to walk you there just in case something were to happen but you brushed them off. If your assumption about Ethan was correct, he wouldn't let anything happen to you.

The subway was packed because it was nearing Halloween and it took you awhile to finally make it inside one. And the thirty minute ride to campus added onto the time. It was around twelve at night when you arrived at his dorm.

First, you decided to knock. Nobody answered. Then you remembered he had an Econ lecture to attend for the night and took out the extra key he had given you awhile ago and unlocked it yourself.

Honestly, you were glad he wasn't there because it would make your digging a lot more easier.

You searched through everything he owned. Through his drawers (which you highly regretted), under his bed, inside some of his unpacked bags—everywhere but you couldn't find anything that incriminated him.

It had been what felt like hours, but was really only thirty minutes, when you gave up. Your phone was going off but you didn't pay any mind to it because the group had consistently texted you ever since your attack; you just assumed it was them checking up on you and then getting paranoid because you weren't answering. Even if you knew you should've checked, you didn't bother as you were going to head back to the apartment anyway.

You quietly snuck out of the room, making sure the coast was clear until you turned your head to the left and saw Ghostface, waiting there for you. When you tried to scream, they grabbed your face with their hand, restricting your voice from releasing.

They were strong, being able to grab your entire body with their one arm and toss you carelessly back into the room.

You hit the floor, wincing at the impact because of your stitches. Ghostface shut the door behind them, looking down at you. They stalked toward you very slowly as you made sure to keep your distance from them.

Using the dresser that stood behind you, you lifted yourself up with your available arm as the other clutched your stitching instinctively to keep you balanced. It was a silent stare-down until they reached for their mask, untucking it from the behind. Then, they pulled it off.

You stared in shock. "…Ethan?"

"Y/N." He didn't have much expression on his face. He looked out of breath as you could see sweat shimmering on his face from the lighting.

"Oh, my god," You breathed out. Although you suspected him this whole time, finally being able to know it was the truth hurt you more than being stabbed. "You're Ghostface."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ethan ignored your statement as he furrowed his brows.

"I knew it. I knew you were the one who saved me," you confessed. "That's why I'm here."

"You shouldn't be here," he told you, shaking his head.

"You're trying to kill me and our friends and you're telling me what I shouldn't be doing?!"

"Y/N, there's more to this than you know."

"That much is obvious," you snapped. He tried to step toward you but you backed up. "Stay away from me."

"Please, just listen to me," Ethan began to plead.

"You let them attack me!"

"No, I didn't!" he declared, lowering his voice when he saw it made you flinch. "They promised to leave you out of it. That was the only thing I told them to do."

"They?" you repeated in confusion.

He thought over his response for a second. "Look, what I'm doing—what I've done—is for a good reason. You have to understand."

You furrowed your brows. "What have you done, E?" You couldn't help but use his nickname; you couldn't help but try to hear him out.

"Y/N." He walked toward you slowly and this time, you didn't back away from him. "You're the only thing I care about. If it means I have to kill a thousand people to keep you safe, then I'd do it."

"I don't understand." Your voice was almost a mumble.

"I agreed to do this before I met you but when I did, it all changed. I-I tried to convince them to stop. I wanted to try and be good—for you but she found out and threatened to kill you if I didn't continue with the plan so I did with the exception that they would leave you out of it," he explained softly. "I did this…for you."

You looked at him like he was insane (he kind of was). "You'd kill our friends?"

"If it meant that you'd be safe."

His words didn't completely register but when they did, you couldn't help but feel guilty. You had a crush on him for so long and here he was, basically confessing his love for you in such a fucked up way. You hated yourself for finding him even more attractive after hearing him say those words.

"Ethan…" you whispered his name.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked. "Can I please kiss you?"

You didn't give him an answer as you closed the space between the two of you.

It seemed wrong—no, it was wrong. Kissing him while he still wore the Ghostface robe, one that he wore while taking someone's life.

You knew he wasn't wearing this costume for fun. They only ever wore it for a purpose. Even though your mind was totally blanked because of how dumb his lips made you, when you pulled apart, you began to think about where he had come from and who he had just killed and why you weren't more concerned about the matter.

He chased after your lips, kissing you again with more force this time, even pulling you closer by the waist. You only pulled away because you were receiving a call.

You pulled your phone out from your pocket, the reality setting in when you saw Sam's contact. He looked down with you, not doing much in keeping you from answering. It took you a couple more seconds of contemplating until you decided to click the green button, putting the phone to your ear.

You took a deep breath before answering. "Hello?"

"Y/N, what the hell?!" Sam hollered into the speaker, her voice mixed with relief and annoyance. "Why weren't you answering? Are you okay?!"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you replied rather nonchalantly. "I had my phone off. What's wrong, Sam?"

There was a short beat. "Ghostface attacked us."

You furrowed your brows, glancing at Ethan. "What?"

"Yeah, he killed Quinn and…"

"And?" you repeated instantly. "Who else, Sam?"

"Anika…" Sam's voice was barely above a whisper. "Y/N, I'm so sorry. I-I tried to help her."

You shut your eyes, feeling tears starting to build. There was silence on the line and you were sure it was because Sam didn't want to say anything knowing you would be taking her death as personal as Mindy did.

Suddenly, your stab wounds began to throb which made you let out a grunt. You knew better than to cry over Anika only because it would achieve nothing. Yes, it was messed up that you were now standing in the room with her murderer, watching him undress himself of his black robe that he wore while killing her but you realized nothing you could've said or done—whether you got to him before she died—could've changed her outcome.

You watched him pull out a hunting knife from his back pocket, the silver glistening with dried blood. That blood probably belonged to Anika and Quinn. It made your throat go dry.

"Sam," you blurted quietly.

"What, Y/N?"

You were going to say it; tell her the truth. It was the right thing to do. Ethan, even if you liked him a lot, had just murdered your best friend and one of Sam's. They deserved the justice of their murderer being caught.

But when he walked back over to you, his eyes scanning your expression, you had already picked your choice.

"Y/N, what? Are you okay?" Sam's voice echoed in your mind.

"Yeah, yeah, it's just…" You tried to find the words. "Is everyone else okay? Did you get hurt?"

"We're fine. Mindy got cut but she's fine," Sam answered softly. "Can you come down here? I'd feel a lot better if you were here with us. Plus, I'm sure you can comfort Mindy than the rest of us. She doesn't want to be anywhere near Tara or Chad."

You let out a shaky breath. "Yeah. Ethan and I are on our way."

"Ethan?" she questioned.

"Yeah. Remember I told you I was going to meet him at his dorm? I was with him the whole night," you lied.

"Oh, okay." Sam sighed into the speaker. "That's good to hear, actually. Mindy thinks Ethan was the one behind all of this but if you were with him then it checks him out."

"Don't worry, Sam," you said. "We'll be there shortly."

"Okay, see you soon. Be safe."

You nodded, even though she couldn't see you and then hung up.

"You kept my secret?" Ethan asked.

You shook your head. "I shouldn't have. You killed Anika and Quinn."

He bit his lip, nodding calmly. "I know, I know. It wasn't exactly my first choice. But I had to for saving you the other night."

"Yeah, I know," you mumbled. "But did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" He furrowed his brows.

"What you said about wanting to be good?" You repeated his words. "Because that's the only reason I saved your ass. I should hate you. You killed Anika."

"Y/N/N," he said softly, walking over to grab your hands. "I only did this to protect you. They made me think my original motive was right but it's actually fucked up. I realized that the moment I met you. So, yes, I do mean it. And I'm sorry about Anika. I didn't really want to do it either."

You mulled over his words, looking down at your connected hands until you finally spoke. "Okay. Then, I'll help you," you informed him. "But, in order for me to do that, I need to know everything."

Let's just say it was an interesting conversation.

[lovebugism]

Some blurb with grumpy fem reader and sunshine eddie?

He's constantly flirting with her and she only teases him or talking him down.

One time some cheerleader trying to flirt with Eddie and reader is so possesive, taking his hand and walking away. Eddie is wide-eyed, big smirk on his face and going after her with jumpy steps full of joy.

✶ ┄ SHE'S SO UNUSUAL !

summary: eddie's pretty sure he's loved you since the day he met you. you're pretty sure love is a neurochemical con job pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 2.8k warnings: none? maybe just the faintest hint of angst? a/n: let's play a game of spot the steven universe reference because a clip popped on my tiktok fyp a couple days ago and even though i've never seen it, i simply haven't been able to stop thinking about it <3 anyways thanks so much for your request! hope you enjoy!

( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )

Eddie’s pretty sure he’s loved you since before he understood what the word really meant. He didn’t know a lot of things, really, especially not as a lanky-limbed teenager trying hopelessly to navigate puberty in a world filled with assholes and uncertainty.

The only thing he could be certain of was all the love he had for you.

He’s seventeen and hopelessly stupid and you’re beautiful and eons out of his league. He concludes that having the majority of your gen-ed classes has to be fate and that making fun of you is the easiest way to talk to you without feeling like he needs to throw up. 

So he takes to bothering you every day before class and sitting at the table beside you — despite the fact that it had been assigned to someone else at the beginning of the school year — until the teacher ultimately gives up and lets him sit next to you. He pokes fun at your Blondiemerch and how the same She’s So Unusual Cyndie Lauper cassette has been in your walkman for a week straight and the way you dot your eyes with pretty little hearts.

Every joke is sprinkled with the faintest hint of truth, though.

He tells you that he hates Blondie but that the shirt looks good on you, because everything you wear looks good on you. He says it’s hilarious that you can’t seem to listen to anything other than Cyndie Lauper but that he understands because he’s been obsessed with Metallica lately — and that he’d love to show you some of their music sometime. He says only children put hearts over their i’s, but that it's real cute when you do it, when you do anything.

“You’re so annoying,” you inevitably tell him with the roll of your eyes when he tells you exactly that. He can’t tell if the way the corner of your lip quirks up is from a half-concealed smile or a look of disgust.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he shrugs and knocks his leather-clad shoulder with yours. “It’s not my fault that I’ve been in love with you since the moment I saw you. Actually, now that I think about it, it’s kinda your fault.”

He says it all with a playful lilt to hide how much he means each word. That he’s in love with you and has been since you were in middle school, when he had a godawful buzz cut and loving Rocky Horror Picture Show was your entire personality — at twelve. 

“Love at first sight doesn’t exist,” you argue while you mindlessly jot down notes from the textbook spread open between you, dotting every i with a practiced heart. “Love takes time and work. At the bare minimum, you should at least probably know the other person — and you don’t have a single clue who I am.”

He’s momentarily knocked asunder at your words, at how profound they are. It’s like a century-old philosopher is using a pretty highschool aged girl as a mouthpiece, and it only makes him love you more.

“Well, I could get to know you,” he retorts with a frown. “You just won’t let me.”

“Did you hear anything I just said?” you squint over at him. 

“Yeah. That love takes time,” he echoes and a grin pulls slow at his lips. “Good thing we’ve got all the time in the world, sweetheart.”

When two years fly by, and you’re finally a senior (and Eddie’s repeating his last year of high school over again because the one before it knocked him on his ass), you realize that he wasn’t kidding around. He still tries hopelessly to get to know you and jokes that he’s a second-year senior only because he “didn’t want to leave you behind.”

“Couldn’t just leave you by yourself, sweetheart,” he says with a defiant shake of his head. “No way. Not with Jason Carver and all the other freaks roaming around here.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re the freaks here, Eds,” you monotone as you put in the combination for your locker.

He immediately notices the use of the nickname. It took you a year to call him anything other than Munson, and now he’s moving into Eds territory? It feels like his heart might burst. But you don’t seem to notice it so Eddie decides to keep it to himself, like sunshine in his pocket, lest he brings it up and he never gets to hear it again.

He presses a hand to his chest and leans in next to you. “Ouch, babe. I’m wounded. Truly. Sorry for wanting to protect a sweet little thing like you.”

You scrunch your nose and swat his hand away when he tries to squeeze your cheek.

“Some would say I actually need protecting from you.”

 “I am capable of pretty dangerous things, sweetheart.”

“Like what?” you scoff.

Eddie only grins. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You ignore the chill that his words shoot down your spine and pretend to be unbothered by the way they make your heart race. You choose to roll your eyes at him and stuff your arms with textbooks. “You better have a massive dick to back up that attitude, Munson, or people are gonna be real disappointed.”

“And by people you mean you, right?”

“Obviously not,” you monotone.

“Well, joke's on you, I’ve already disappointed everyone I know.”

“That’s not true, Eds—” you shoot back but then swallow the words when you realize you were about to say something too sweet. “There are billions of people in the world you haven’t met yet. There’s still plenty left to disappoint.”

“You’re real sweet, you know that?” he jokes with a smile. “Besides, if you’re really worried about the size of my dick, we can always break out a ruler and, you know, test your theory.”

“Ooh, sorry,” you wince. “I left my magnifying glass at home. Maybe some other time?”

“How about tomorrow?” he answers quickly and easily falls into step with you when you shut your locker and head towards your next class.

“I have a date tomorrow, actually. No can do.”

His heart stops and his throat swells and he forgets what words are for a moment or two. He can only blink at you for a few seconds. “A— A date?”

“Uh-huh. Jason Carver. He asked me out this morning.”

“You’re kidding,” he retorts bitterly with a scowl on his face. Then you start laughing at him and the world starts spinning again. He starts laughing too, but it’s more of a sigh of relief than anything else. “You— You are kidding?”

“Obviously I’m kidding,” you shove him. “Hell will freeze over before I am willingly anywhere around that guy.”

Eddie’s freshly beating heart starts to swell. It feels like more of an honor than it already has been, for you to want to willingly be around him.

“Oh, so you were just trying to make me jealous, then?” he squints over at you.

This time, you’re the stuttering mess as you try to figure out what to say.

He chuckles at you. “Because it worked, sweetheart.”

A couple of months or more go by and graduation nears — well, for you. Eddie’s still hellbent that he’s going to have to repeat another year, but you’ve made it your mission to get him to pass English.

He doesn’t even mind that it means he actually has to do the homework, as long he gets to spend time with you in the Hellfire room after school or share a snack with you at the picnic tables at Forest Hill.

It’s got him living in a state of grandeur. He’s hopelessly deluded, not only that he’s in love with you, but that you’re in love with him. And, for obvious reasons, you know that can’t be true.

Neither of you can be in love because you’re kids and you’re stupid and you don’t know a single damn thing about anything, let alone something as trivial and philosophical as love. It’s a neurochemical con job, everyone knows it. It’s not real.

Everyone thought Nancy and Steve were in love at one point, and then she called him bullshit at a party before fucking off with Jonathan Byers.

Everyone thought Jason and Chrissy were in love, too — that they would be everything Steve and Nancy couldn’t — and then she dumped him in front of the entire school after catching him being an asshole to a bunch of Hellfire club freshmen.

So, obviously, no one knows what love is. 

And by that logic, they can’t know when they’re in it either.

So you chalk up the butterflies and burning cheeks you always get around Eddie to being a dumb teenager who’s lonely and touch starved. Because it’s not love. It just can’t be.

Eddie begs to differ, though, and he swears he’s got the test to prove it.

It’s the spring assembly at Hawkins High, which means everyone’s gathered in the gymnasium on bleachers that are not nearly big enough to accommodate everyone, doing fuck all and grateful for not having to do any actual work. 

The cheerleaders do a couple of dances, the basketball team prances around the court — it’s all hopelessly pedestrian as far as you’re concerned.

You and the rest of Hellfire are located at the very top of the bleachers, as far away as you possibly can be from whatever the hell is going on below you. It checks out, though, because everyone else opts to keep their distance from the lot of you, too.

And you’re not exactly sure how the conversation started, but somehow you end up talking about crushes, and Eddie makes the too bold proclamation that you’ve got the fattest crush on him of all people.

“Leave her alone!” Dustin scolds him over the band, the only one actually trying to stick up for you. “Maybe this is something you should discuss, I don’t know, in private?”

You roll your eyes. “There’s no need. Because I don’t have a crush on you, Eddie Munson,” you tell him, stern and unwavering, as you squint over at him. Your glare follows the boy as he paces up and down the bleachers, two levels below you. “Sorry to bruise your ego.”

“Oh, so you won’t care if I tell Chrissy that I wanna take her on a date?” he asks you with a knowing grin.

“Why would I care?” you retort, then grumble. “It’s not like she would say yes anyway.”

“Well, she did ask me first.”

That quietens you instantly “…You’re lying.”

“Wanna bet?” he teases and leans down, resting his weight on the seating in front of him, until his face is level with yours. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the mint gum he smacks between his teeth. 

If you were alone — and in some godawful teenage drama — you might’ve pulled him in for a kiss right there. At least, that’s what your brain tells you to do because your lips have started to tingle just thinking about it.

You hope Eddie hasn’t noticed the way your gaze falls on his own pink, plump, and very kissable ones. But the grin that paints his features then tells you that he has.

You play it off with a stoic expression and crossed arms. “Chrissy going from dating the captain of the basketball team to the town’s local freak would be an unprecedented low.”

“I’ll be sure to tell you all about our trip to Lover’s Lake tomorrow morning, sweetheart, don’t worry your pretty little head,” he promises before rising and spinning on his heels. He makes the trek to the lower level of the bleachers — a feat made more difficult by the crowd and the distance between it and him.

He makes sure to turn and look back at you every now and again, to make sure that you’re still watching him. You are. Of course, you are. And you hope the seething anger in your chest doesn’t show on your face.

“He’s not actually gonna ask her out, right?” Mike wonders.

“No way,” Dustin denies with the shake of his head. “The president of Hellfire can’t date a cheerleader… Right?”

Gareth shrugs. “He’s obviously bluffing.”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t do that,” Jeff agrees. He turns to look over at you. “He’s been in love with you since middle school. He just wants to upset you.”

“Well, it’s fucking working,” you grumble under your breath. Your heart races and your vision swims as you watch him near the group of cheerleaders sitting on the floor of the gym. 

You want to believe that he’s bluffing, you really do, but you don’t doubt that Chrissy’s asked him out.

After she dumped Jason, she’d gotten strangely protective over the Hellfire club — constantly making an effort to talk to them all, ensuring that the rest of the school wasn’t acting total assholes around them. Hell, she’s even started being nice to you and you weren't even in the damn club.

She’s been hanging around with Eddie a lot more lately, catching up in the library and ranting about tests between classes. Everyone’s seen it. You’ve seen it. And it’s made you unbelievably jealous. 

Maybe you never noticed it before now because you used to be the only girl interested in talking to Eddie. But now he’s got the head cheerleader around to keep him company, to ask him out on fucking dates, and it leaves you seething in your rage.

And if love is anger, then you’re head over heels for Eddie Munson.

You rise suddenly from your seat and shove your way through the bleachers, muttering lackluster excuse me’s under your breath as you go and elbowing those who refuse to get out of your way. 

You reach Eddie just before he’s about to tap on Chrissy's shoulder. You take that hand and nearly jerk it from its socket the way you pull at him. Eddie is stunned, for all of half a second, thinking it must’ve been a fuming Jason Carver at the force of the grip around him. 

But it’s just you, all but dragging him out of the gymnasium with the strength of ten men in one angry teenage girl, and it makes him smile so hard it hurts.

He traps the grin between his teeth and locks eyes with the rest of Hellfire from across the room. He brings two fingers to his forehead in salute before he’s pulled out of the gym entirely.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he teases as you lead him down a long hallway. “Thought you didn’t give a shit if I asked her out?”

You don’t respond to his teasing. You just keep tugging him by his wrist through the empty school. He’s not even sure if you’re even breathing just now, or if you’re moving strictly on autopilot and rage.

You shove him into Mr. Kamisnky’s vacant classroom and lock the door behind you.

Eddie’s chest rises and falls with the heavy breath he exhales. “Well, shit, sweetheart... If I knew making you jealous was all I needed to do to get you alone, I would’ve done it a long time ago—”

“Say you didn’t mean it,” you interject, less than amused at his teasing.

“…What?”

“That you wanted to take Chrissy on a date,” you elaborate with arms crossed over your chest, protecting yourself, your heart. “Say you didn’t mean it.”

And Eddie laughs. He fucking laughs. Like everything’s a joke to him, like the mere thought of you being heartbroken over him liking Chrissy is funny to him.

It’s not. Well, at least not that bit. It’s laughable to him that you would even think he wanted anybody but you after he’s spent so many years fawning over you.

“Of course, I didn’t mean it,” Eddie scoffs. He tries to take a few steps closer to you, but you back away, not believing him. He softens. “I just wanted to make you jealous, sweetheart. I didn’t wanna… hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you monotone.

The boy’s brows furrow. “Hurt your feelings or make you jealous?”

“…Yes.”

A smile pulls slow at his lips. He tries to hide it but fails miserably. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I just wanted to see how you would react. And I am very pleased by this reaction… Even though my wrist feels like it’s broken.”

“Sorry,” you murmur to yourself, already embarrassed at how angry you’d gotten.

“Don’t be sorry,” Eddie declines with the shake of his head. This time when he walks toward you, you don’t back away from him. You even let him take your elbows in his hands and rub his thumbs over your warmed and jealousy-prickled skin.

“Actually, you know what, do be sorry,” he corrects playfully. “And make it up to me by taking me out. Somewhere fancy.”

You purse your lips to the side in attempts to hide your smile. 

“Benny’s Burgers?” you offer after a moment.

“Ooh. Burgers, fries, a milkshake, and a hot date?" he lists with a nod of approval. "You really know how to get a guy to swoon, don't ya sweetheart?”

[lilwoofs]

I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I think what saddens me the most is that shadow doesn’t really seem to like adventuring. Sonic and shadow are similar in that they both go fast and go on a lot of the same adventures, and even though adventures just like, happen to sonic he kinda starts them, or at least seems to enjoy them after all “what you see is what you get, just a guy who loves adventure”. He didn’t choose to have chaos unleashed, turn into a werewolf or have eggman make a war, and I’m sure there’s moments (like metal virus and frontiers) where he’d rather that all not have happened, but overall he seems to have fun doing all of this stuff, it’s his hobby, even in the twitter takeovers most of the time when a question about what they is asked he basically just says running and adventuring.

Meanwhile shadow just kinda has that stuff happen to him, his memories are altered and someone wants him to destroy the world, he has amnesia (also metal sonic is mad and making it everyone’s problem), he has amnesia (also someone’s trying to make him destroy the world again), and whatever was going on in 06. He never seemed to relish in the adventure like sonic did, he only really seemed to fight when he had too. (Okay in some games he seemed like he wanted to kill sonic??? (og generations) or just fight sonic for little reason (not to mention what happened to infinite) but it feels like they’re kinda fixing that and it’s pretty out of character for him). For sonic danger is a challenge, it’s fun. For shadow it’s just something happening to him, yeah he might get a little smug about it, but “if the world chooses to become my enemy I will fight like I always have” shadow wouldn’t be fighting if he didn’t have someone trying to make him destroy the world every two seconds-

It would also make sense shadow doesn’t seem to enjoy danger like sonic does, he knows what its likes being attacked and it going wrong (Maria’s death). And to contrast sonic in the twitter takeovers whenever he’s asked about hobbies he says he wants to start a cat orphanage, or that he reads books and plays chess, volunteers at soup kitchens, taking care of his bike, also won’t shut up about flowers. All pretty low stakes things! (He even mentions multiple times in the newest twitter takeovers that he doesn’t fight for fun, only when needed. Now that could just be him not wanting to admit he’s having fun with sonic, because there is a lot of moments we’re he fights with sonic for no reason other then fun, but there’s still probably some truth in there. Who knows maybe we just think that because we always see it from Sonic’s side, and since sonic likes it we assume shadow does too ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) And talking to Maria in sh generations it makes so much sense! She seems frightened at the concept of shadow attacking black doom, she’s not scared to talk back to him when he’s being rude to shadow, but she seems surprised that it’s happening, surprised that shadow is so “bold and confident” when shadow fights. Yeah she told him to protect everyone on earth but I don’t think she had shadow stopping earth ending situations in mind. They play chess and go to school, when Maria talks of going back to earth she mentions having food and meeting her family. That was their plan. She didn’t think shadow would have to stop gods and war, she thought he was going to met friends and eat good food! And just help out in small ways when he can.

Going back to Maria’s death we know shadow was powerful at that time, not as much as he is now, but he was frozen for those 50 years (no time to train) which means he was just as strong then as he was in sonic adventure 2 (makes sense he’s the ultimate lifeform). If shadow was back there he would’ve fought the G.U.N agents, but taking in the Maria dialog (“bold and  confident”) and how their life was on the ark he wasn’t used to fighting. If nothing happened to shadow he probably wouldn’t be fighting.

TLDR: where’s my sonic game that’s about shadow owning a cat orphanage and reading books sega?