#i mean i am speaking truth but. playfully

[meazalykov]

play for the crowd

lauren james x english!influencer!reader : social media + fic

summary: a fake relationship never ends well.. or does it?

warnings: angst, very long chapter

for @pinkyqily + @jackiesunshines

“welcome back to ‘call her daddy,’ babes,” alex starts with her signature grin, leaning closer to the mic. 

“today, we’ve got the it-girl of england sitting across from me. she’s hilarious, she’s fashionable, she’s friends with basically everyone worth knowing—please give it up for y/n!!”

you laugh softly, adjusting your seating in the red fancy chair.

“oh, stop it. you’re hyping me up too much.”

“listen, i only speak the truth on this podcast,” alex replies dramatically, hands gesturing like she’s addressing an audience of thousands. 

“so, let’s just jump right in. your fashion—people are obsessed. i mean, half the girls listening are probably taking notes on your outfit right now as we speak.”

you smile, settling into your seat. 

“i feel like my style is a bit all over the place, to be honest. one day i’ll be in baggy streetwear, the next i’m in a full-on luxury brand look, then i’m in some scandi-inspired minimalism, and before you know it, i’m frolicking in a meadow in a cottagecore dress. i just wear whatever’s cute.”

“so, you’re telling me your closet must look insane.” alex leans forward, clearly intrigued.

“oh, it’s a disaster,” you admit with a laugh. 

“you know when people say, ‘if you can’t see it, you won’t wear it’? yeah, my clothes are in piles. i try to organize, but then i get new stuff, and it’s chaos all over again.”

“and yet you always look put together. how does that even work?”

“magic,” you joke, adjusting your oversized blazer. 

“or maybe just panic dressing.”

alex grins. 

“fair enough. okay, now—this is a call her daddy episode where i am the nosey host, so we have to get into your social life. you’ve got so many famous friends. who’s in your circle? who’s in the inner circle?”

you raise an eyebrow.

“you’re really trying to get the tea, huh?”

“always,” alex says without hesitation. 

“give us something.”

you smirk. 

“well, i’ve got a mix of people, you know? like, models, footballers, actors... it’s a weird little melting pot. i vibe with people who are chill and don’t take life too seriously.”

“what about jude bellingham?” alex’s grin widens, mischief sparkling in her eyes. 

“you’ve been seen with him quite a bit. are we finally getting confirmation here?”

your laugh is immediate, and you shake your head as you roll your eyes playfully. 

“oh my god, no no no absolutely not. jude is not my type at all.”

alex gasps theatrically. 

“wait, hold on. you’re telling me jude bellingham, literal dreamboat that maybe has a million edits of himself, is not your type? do you know how many women would kill for that chance?”

“i’m sure they would,” you reply, still laughing. 

“but, yeah, jude and i are just friends. strictly platonic. in fact, he’s hilarious.”

alex’s eyes narrow in mock suspicion. 

“so, what is your type, then?”

you pause for a moment, knowing the question is loaded. you take a breath, then grin. 

“well, just know that i don’t swing jude’s way.”

alex’s face lights up. 

“ohhh, so you’re into women?” her excitement is palpable.

“yeah,” you say, nodding firmly. 

“i mean, people have speculated for years, so… there you go. confirmed. i like women.”

“iconic,” alex replies, clapping her hands. 

“this is huge!!!! so, do you have a partner? because i feel like everyone’s going to be dying to know now.”

a weight sinks in your chest, but you plaster on a smile. you hate lying, but this is part of the game. 

“i do,” you say carefully, keeping your voice light. 

“but i’m not spilling anything just yet.”

“oh, come on,” alex pleads. 

“not even a little hint?”

you shake your head, laughing softly. 

“nope. but trust me, everyone will know who she is eventually.”

alex groans in mock defeat, throwing her head back. 

“you’re killing me, y/n. absolutely killing me.”

“i gotta keep some mystery, alex,” you tease. 

“otherwise, what’s the fun?”

y/n.l/n

{tagged: yourbsf}

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y/n.l/n hello 2025

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y/nl/nluvr5 SO CUTE

yourbsf ily

ashley_lawrence10 pretty! 🤩

wosofan2719 why are all of the chelsea girls in her likes?? 🫣

user6282 I thought I was the only one who peeped

random12938 after her podcast with alex on friday, I am convinced y/n's girlfriend is known to the public already. you might be onto something since she is already close with english footballers

madelineargy 😍

~view all 2,039 comments~

you’re sitting cross-legged on your plush beige couch, the soft hum of a charli xcx playlist filling the quiet of your london apartment. 

a steaming mug of tea sits on the coffee table, untouched, as you absently scroll through your phone. your eyes flick to the clock—just past noon. you’re waiting on lauren to send over the ticket details for tonight’s chelsea vs. arsenal match, the anticipated london derby.

your stomach twists slightly at the thought. not because of the game—you actually enjoy football. it’s the situation you’ve been thrown into that makes you uneasy. 

a fake relationship. a pr stunt. your team’s bright idea to boost both your profiles. it’s not like you haven’t heard the horror stories: influencer friends venting about staged dates, awkward photoshoots, and scripted chemistry with people they couldn’t stand and hated. 

you swore you’d never do something so fake, yet here you are.

your phone buzzes, snapping you out of your thoughts. it’s a message from lauren.

lauren: hey, just sent your name to the list—tickets will be at will call under 'guest of lj.' fancy title, right?

you smile faintly, typing back.

you: wow, i feel so important. 

you joke. a reply comes almost instantly.

lauren: absolutely. “fake girlfriend to chelsea star.” major clout.

you laugh under your breath, appreciating her humor despite the absurdity of the situation.

you: i can’t lie.. this is all so ridiculous. have you done this kind of thing before?

lauren: nope. first time for me too. i feel like i should apologize in advance if i make this awkward.

you: i was just about to say the same to you. we’ll both be awkward… it’ll balance out.

lauren’s next text takes a second longer to come through.

lauren: for what it’s worth, i know this isn’t ideal. but i promise i’m not a complete nightmare in person like the media can paint me out to be. 

you pause, rereading her message. there’s something about her tone—genuine, almost reassuring. however, you frown at the last part of her message. you have seen the tweets and post that have villainized her about certain situations that have happened between her and other players. you don’t play football, but you understand how intense things can be.

lauren’s genuine personality makes you think that this won’t be as terrible as you’ve been building it up to be.

you: well, if you’re not a nightmare, i guess i can survive one football match. or how ever many as i will need to go to for us. as long as i don’t get smacked with a football in front of your everyone or something.

lauren: if you do, we’ll just blame it on the opposing team.

you laugh again softly, shaking your head. her dry wit feels disarming, and you find yourself a little more curious about meeting her in person. maybe, just maybe, lauren will surprise you.

the cool london air nips at your cheeks as you step out of the car, pulling your brown puffer coat tighter around yourself. the excitement hums through the blue and red crowds gathered outside the chelsea stadium. 

you glance up at the familiar facade, the blue and white banners waving proudly in the breeze. you’ve been here before, more times than you can count, but tonight feels… different.

you make your way through the gates, clutching the ticket lauren organized for you. your name’s on the guest list, which feels oddly official, even though you know it’s all just for show. navigating the stadium is second nature by now—you’ve been here for england matches, screaming alongside the fans, but you’ve never been here for chelsea. 

the thought feels strange, almost disloyal, considering most of your friends are manchester (city and united) fans through and through.

their reactions flash through your mind, the way they nearly lost it when you casually mentioned you were going on a "date" with a chelsea player.

"you’re joking, right? chelsea? you can’t be serious," one had said, barely hiding their disbelief.

"wait, who is it?" another pressed, practically bouncing in their seat. 

"don’t tell me it’s lucy bronze—no, wait, she just transferred here so i don’t think it's her."

you’d shrugged them off, offering nothing but a sly smile. “you’ll find out soon enough,” you’d teased, leaving them to spiral into speculation. you didn’t have the heart—or the nerve—to explain the truth yet. 

not until you’d met lauren in person, not until you knew how this whole fake relationship would pan out.

as you approach the friends and family section, a subtle wave of nervousness rolls over you. this is it—the start of whatever chaotic media circus your teams have orchestrated. you take a deep breath, smoothing the invisible wrinkles on your coat, and step inside.

you wonder if people will question your presence in that section, why you were here by yourself with none of your friends to accompany you. however, you decide to take the next 90 minutes to collect your thoughts while lauren plays her match.

taking your seat, directly where you can see the middle of the pitch, the noise of the crowd fills your ears as you settle. your focus is razor-sharp. your eyes stay locked on lauren as she moves across the pitch with ease, weaving through arsenal's defense like it’s second nature. 

the game already started three minutes ago.. and she’s good…really good. you knew that already, of course, seeing her play live is something else entirely.

you shift in your seat, trying to keep your expression neutral. the plan is simple: be here, watch the match, and appear supportive. it’s harder than you thought to ignore the weight of the cameras that occasionally pan away from the game and land on you instead. 

you know what the headlines will say. you can already picture the tweets that are posting on twitter as your eye move along lauren’s body.

the speculation is what you’re here for. you tap your fingers against the armrest of your seat, trying to drown out the chatter in your head. this is all part of the plan, you remind yourself. 

still, the questions buzzing online are ones you’re not ready to answer. not yet. this isn’t even real after all.

your eyes dart back to lauren. she’s on the ball again, making a sharp run from a sharp pass from lucy that sets up a near-perfect chance. the crowd erupts, and you find yourself caught between genuine admiration for her skill and the uncomfortable reality of why you’re here. with the cameras on you, though, you know better than to let anything too much slip. 

you lean forward slightly, keeping your attention locked on lauren, as though she’s the only thing that matters in the moment.

the game ends with a 2-1 win for chelsea. you stand awkwardly by the fruit stand in the lounge room area, pretending to be invested in the arrangement of grapes and orange slices. the truth is, you feel out of place. 

this isn’t your scene, and it shows. the other friends and family members seem at ease, chatting and laughing like they belong here. you, however, can’t shake the anxiety in your chest. of course, people recognize you—this is england, after all. your face is plastered on magazine covers and social media feeds. here, in this context, you feel more exposed than ever.

you shift your weight from foot to foot, glancing at the clock on the wall. lauren’s team has just wrapped up their post-match debrief, and any minute now, she’ll walk in. the thought doesn’t help your nerves; if anything, it makes them worse. 

you haven’t even met her in person before, yet the entire world will soon think that she’s your girlfriend. the absurdity of it all threatens to make you laugh, but the knot in your stomach keeps you grounded.

you’re about to reach for a piece of pineapple when you feel a light touch on your shoulder. the sensation startles you, and you turn around quickly, almost dropping the toothpick you’re holding.

“i didn’t know you could be so shy, y/n,” lauren says, her tone teasing but warm. she’s standing there, freshly showered, her hair damp and swept back. the post-match attitude has faded, leaving her looking relaxed, but there’s a spark of curiosity in her eyes as she takes you in.

you smile nervously, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your blazer. 

“well, i’m usually not,” you reply, your voice quieter than you intended. 

“but this is… a little out of my comfort zone.”

lauren’s brows raise slightly, and she steps closer, her presence somehow steadying. 

“really? you, out of your comfort zone? that’s hard to believe.”

you glance down, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. 

“it’s different when it’s not my crowd. football people, you know? i’m more used to influencer events or fashion shows, not… this.”

lauren chuckles softly. 

“well, for what it’s worth, you look like you fit right in. maybe too well. people are already whispering about you.”

“great,” you mutter, trying to keep the sarcasm light but unable to mask your discomfort. 

“exactly what i wanted.”

she tilts her head, studying you for a moment. 

“it’ll die down eventually,” she says, her tone more serious now. 

“but i get it. it’s weird, isn’t it? pretending like this? its going to be worse once we have to tell the media.”

you let out a small laugh, more out of relief that she said it than anything else. 

“weird doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you admit. 

“i mean, we haven’t even met before today, and now the world will think that we’re madly in love. it’s ridiculous.”

lauren nods, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. 

“yeah, it is. but hey, we’re in this together, right?.”

you meet her gaze. she’s genuine, at least, and that’s something. “you’re right,” you say softly, your smile more genuine now. 

“i guess we’ll figure it out.”

she grins, and the moment feels strangely natural despite the layers of pretense surrounding it. then she gestures toward the lounge area where the other players’ families are gathered. 

“come on. let’s get you out of the corner. they’re going to think i’m a terrible girlfriend if i leave you standing here alone.”

you laugh, following her lead, the tension still present but slightly eased by her presence. it’s strange, walking beside her, knowing that the world will see something entirely different from what you feel inside. 

for now, you push that thought aside and focus on surviving the night.

lj10

{tagged: y/n.l/n}

liked by y/n.l/n, lucybronze, and 131,216 others

lj10 recent

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random28383 IS THAT WHO I THINK IT ISSS??????

y/nl8vr MY BABY ON THE THIRD SLIDE

chelseafcwfan7 I KNEW IT WAS LAUREN THAT WAS DATING Y/N

❤️ *liked by author*

y/n.l/n 😘😘

user91010 oh that's not..

meazalykov ??

user91010 @/meazalykov i did not expect lauren and y/n no shade..

meazalykov well too bad..

lucybronze hard launch era

catarina_macario 😍😍

~view all 10,378 comments~

the days throughout the next few weeks blur together in a haze of carefully curated social media posts and staged interactions. every picture, every story, every comment feels like a chess move, calculated for the public eye. 

by now, the world has accepted the narrative—lauren james and y/n l/n, england’s newest power couple.

behind the scenes, it’s a different story entirely. you and lauren barely talk, only exchanging the occasional text when coordinating your next “public moment.” it’s efficient, professional even, but cold. 

you can’t help but feel the growing weight of the disconnect between the facade you show the world and the reality of your relationship. or lack thereof.

yet, something about lauren lingers in your mind. she’s kind in the brief moments you’ve interacted—genuine, with a subtle humor that catches you off guard. you’ve noticed how her quiet demeanor shifts when she’s irritated, her sharp gaze and tense shoulders mirroring your own tells when you’re frustrated. 

it’s a trait that feels too familiar, like looking into a mirror.

sitting on your couch late one evening, your phone in hand, you scroll mindlessly through instagram. you pause looking at the instagram story you posted with lauren, staring at the image, at the way lauren’s hand rests casually on your back in the mirror picture. you’d both laughed during that shoot. the memory stirs something in your chest—a quiet ache you can’t quite place.

she’s fascinating in a way you didn’t expect. it’s not just her talent on the pitch or her rising fame; it’s the little things. the way her smile softens when she’s genuinely amused. the thoughtful pauses she takes before she speaks. the way she seems to carry a quiet confidence, even in the chaos of the public’s attention. 

you shake your head, exhaling sharply. this is ridiculous, you tell yourself. the truth is, you want to know her… the real her, not the polished version you’ve pieced together through brief interactions and online impressions. 

you open your messages, your thumb hovering over her name. for a moment, you consider texting her something—anything—to start a conversation. however, the thought of overstepping, of complicating an already convoluted situation, keeps you frozen. 

with a sigh, you lock your phone and toss it onto the couch beside you.

whatever this is, whatever it could be, will have to wait. for now, you’ll stick to the plan, no matter how much your thoughts keep drifting back to lauren.

y/n.l/n

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y/n.l/n good evening

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❤️ *liked by author*

lj10 good evening 😍😍

lucybronze its 11:09am..

y/n.l/n again, good evening lucy bronze

lucybronze good evening ig 😒

catarina_macario 🤩

random2728 lj and y/n having a private but not secret relationship 🥰

user72929 LOVE

random2728 there's something off about this..

random10989 wym?

leahwilliamsonn 😍

~view all 4,290 comments~

the bar is calming, music thrumming in the background as laughter and chatter fill the air. the dim lighting casts a warm glow over the group, everyone mingling and sipping on their drinks. 

you’re perched on a stool near the bar, glancing occasionally at lauren, who’s leaning against the counter, chatting easily with one of her teammates, millie. she looks relaxed, her posture casual, but there’s something about the way her eyes flick to you every so often that has your stomach in knots.

“another drink?” her voice cuts through the noise, her tone light but carrying just enough warmth to catch your attention.

you look up at her, a slight smile tugging at your lips.

“are you trying to get me drunk, lauren?”

she smirks, handing you the glass. 

“maybe. or maybe i just want to make sure you’re having a good time.”

you take a sip, feeling the burn of the alcohol mixed with something sweeter—the way she’s looking at you. 

“thanks,” you murmur. 

“but i can return the favor. what are you drinking?”

“water,” she says simply, holding up her glass. 

“staying hydrated.”

you tilt your head, studying her. 

“water? not even one drink? you’re playing it too safe.”

she shrugs, a playful glint in her eyes. 

“someone has to keep an eye on you.”

you laugh, the sound escaping before you can stop it. 

“oh, so now you’re my babysitter?”

“if that’s what you need,” she fires back smoothly, her grin widening.

there’s a moment, a charged pause, where the noise of the bar seems to fade into the background. lauren’s gaze lingers on you, and you feel your cheeks heat under the intensity of it. 

you lean in slightly, emboldened by the drinks and the energy between you.

“careful,” you tease, your voice dropping just enough to match the tension. 

“someone might think you actually care.”

“and what if i do?” she counters, her tone light but her eyes unreadable.

you blink, caught off guard. the banter feels easy, natural, but there’s something underneath it that feels heavier—real. you search her face for a clue, but she keeps her expression steady, a flicker of amusement playing at the corners of her mouth.

“then i’d say you’re doing a great job convincing everyone here,” you say finally, trying to match her confidence, even as your heart races.

her lips curve into a smirk. 

“convincing you, too?”

your breath catches, and for a split second, you don’t know what to say. she watches you, her expression calm but undeniably smug, as though she knows exactly the effect she’s having on you.

“maybe,” you admit, keeping your voice steady despite the way your pulse thunders in your ears.

she chuckles softly, the sound low and intimate, and it leaves you feeling both flustered and unmoored. then, as if sensing the moment tipping into something too real, she pulls back slightly, raising her glass of water in a mock toast.

“to good acting,” she says, her voice light but her eyes holding yours a beat too long.

you clink your glass against hers, your stomach twisting as you try to discern whether she’s teasing or deflecting. 

as the night wears on, you can’t shake the way her words, her gaze, her presence—all of it—lingers in the back of your mind. was it an act? or was there something more beneath the surface? you don’t know, and the uncertainty gets at you in a way you didn’t expect.

your drink—something sweet and forgettable—sits untouched in front of you, the condensation pooling around the glass on the counter. the room feels alive as you watch your surroundings again, as lauren’s teammates and your friends fill the dance floor, laughing, swaying to the music, completely at ease. 

you, however, feel like a misplaced puzzle piece.

you’re here for a purpose, after all—not to let loose, but to be seen. you and lauren were both instructed to attend, to sit in proximity long enough for someone to notice, snap a photo, and post it online. the public needed to see the happy “couple” out and about, living their seemingly charmed lives. 

that was the plan. it always is. however, something about tonight feels off.. or maybe it’s you that feels off. 

your eyes drift to lauren, who’s sitting a few stools away at this point, talking to sjoeke. lauren’s body language is relaxed, her posture casual, and she exudes that effortless charm you’ve come to associate with her. her laugh carries over the music, soft but genuine, and it’s disarming. 

you’ve seen her in a dozen different settings by now—on the pitch, in interviews, even in those staged photoshoots your teams made you do together—but she always carries the same quiet confidence. 

“why do i care so much about her flirting earlier?” the thought hits you suddenly, and you blink, startled by your own realization. you know you shouldn’t care. it’s not like there’s anything real between you two. this is business, nothing more. 

you’re about to take a sip of your drink when movement catches your eye. a brunette woman, her steps uneven and her smile a little too wide, weaves her way through the crowd and makes a beeline for lauren. 

she stops next to her, leaning on the counter for balance before sliding onto the stool beside her. 

at first, you think nothing of it. people approach lauren all the time; it comes with the territory of her being a footballer.. then you notice the way the woman leans in, her body language screaming flirtation. 

even over the music, you catch snippets of her words. 

“i’ve been watching you all night,” the brunette says, her voice slurred but still clear enough to make your chest tighten. 

you force yourself to look away, focusing instead on the condensation trailing down your glass. but your attention snaps back when you hear lauren laugh—a soft, polite chuckle that quickly morphs into something warmer. she’s flirting back. 

it’s subtle, nothing overt, but it’s enough to make your stomach churn.

you grip the edge of your stool, willing yourself to stay calm. this doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. this isn’t real. lauren is a footballer—a brilliant, talented, and undeniably attractive one. of course people are drawn to her. of course she’s going to flirt back.

you remind yourself that you’re just the one her pr team picked for this charade. nothing more. 

the tightness in your chest refuses to go away. watching lauren lean in closer to the brunette, her smile softening, feels like a punch to the gut and worse, it makes you question things you don’t want to question. 

like why you even care in the first place.

the noise of the bar feels suffocating, and before you know it, you’re sliding off the stool and heading toward the bathroom. the music dulls as you push through the door, and the quieter space is a welcome reprieve.

then, your eyes land on zion and amber. 

your two friends are tucked into a corner of the bathroom, lost in their own world. amber’s hands are tangled in zion’s hair, and zion’s lips are pressed firmly against amber’s. they don’t even notice you until the door clicks shut behind you. 

zion pulls back first, her face flushed. “y/n?” she asks, stepping forward. 

“you okay?”

you hesitate, the weight of the night pressing heavily on your chest. you don’t want to talk about it, but the lump in your throat makes it clear that you need to. 

“not really,” you admit, your voice quieter than you intended.

amber straightens, exchanging a quick glance with zion before walking over to you. 

“what’s going on?” she asks, concern evident in her tone.

just like that, everything comes pouring out. the fake relationship, the constant public scrutiny, the pressure to perform for an audience you didn’t ask for. you tell them about the brunette at the bar, how lauren flirted back, and how much it hurt even though it shouldn’t have. when you’re done, you feel a little lighter, but the knot in your chest remains.

zion crosses her arms, her brow furrowed in thought. 

“y/n,” she says carefully, “are you… catching feelings for lauren?”

the question hangs in the air, heavy and uncomfortable. your first instinct is to deny it, to brush it off as ridiculous. but the truth gnaws at you, undeniable and unrelenting. you don’t say anything, which is answer enough.

amber steps closer, placing a hand on your arm. “look,” she says gently, “you need to figure this out. either you tell her how you feel and end this whole fake thing, or you set some serious boundaries before you get hurt.”

you nod slowly, the reality of her words settling over you like a weight. “yeah,” you murmur. 

“you’re right.”

as you stand there, staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, the question lingers in your mind. 

how did i even let this happen?

the days pass in a haze of avoidance and overthinking. 

you bury yourself in work, content for tiktok, and anything else that keeps you busy enough to ignore the fluttering in your chest every time you think of lauren. it’s not hard to avoid her; after all, your only real interactions have been the orchestrated ones... lunches, coffee dates, the occasional walk in the park, all designed to feed the narrative. 

without the need for those, you manage to keep your distance.

your phone buzzes occasionally with texts from lauren. nothing accusatory or probing, just polite questions about when your next outing is or casual jokes about how your pr teams must be getting impatient about when the next outing will be. 

each message makes your stomach twist, the guilt poking at you. she doesn’t deserve to be avoided, but you can’t bring yourself to face her right now.

the bathroom conversation at the bar replays in your head on a loop. amber’s words, “set boundaries or tell her how you feel,” echo louder with each passing day. it feels like you’ve done neither, stuck somewhere in limbo, unsure of what to do. 

all you know is that seeing lauren flirt with someone else hurt more than it should have. and now, it’s painfully clear why.

you caught feelings. 

the realization had hit you like a train that night, leaving you panicked. you’ve spent years building walls around yourself, keeping relationships at arm’s length, unwilling to let anyone in after your last heartbreak. yet here you are, feelings growing for someone who isn’t even truly yours. 

lauren’s face lingers in your mind far more often than you’d like. the chelsea player’s quiet humor, her thoughtfulness, the way her smile lights up when she’s genuinely happy.. it’s all etched into your brain, no matter how much you try to push it away. 

the worst part? you know this is going nowhere. fake relationships don’t magically become real, and even if they did, there’s no guarantee lauren feels the same.

you sit on your couch, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. the notifications pile up—comments on your latest post, messages from friends, an email from your team about your next public appearance. 

you can’t bring yourself to focus on any of it. all you can think about is how scared you are that you’ve made a mistake, one that’s far too late to undo.

hours later.. around midnight.. you’re curled up on your couch, a soft blanket draped over your legs as you dig into a bowl of rice and chicken. the dim glow of the tv lights up the room, the suspenseful soundtrack of squid game filling the air. 

it’s the perfect distraction, engrossing enough to keep your thoughts at bay, even if just for a little while.

then, a faint knock interrupts the quiet. at first, you assume it’s coming from the show, but when it happens again, you freeze. your eyes flick to the door. you weren’t expecting anyone, and frankly, you’ve been avoiding everyone for the last few days. 

the knocking persists, steady and deliberate, until you reluctantly pause the show and get up.

your heart races as you peek through the peephole. the sight of lauren standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of her hoodie, sends your mind spiraling. 

what is she doing here? how did she get my address?

you open the door slowly, your confusion evident. 

“lauren?” you ask, your voice wary. 

“what are you doing here? how did you even know where i live?”

she offers a small smile, almost sheepish. 

“hey. i asked madeline. hope that’s okay.”

you step aside, letting her in despite your confusion at why she would go so far to ask your mutual friend what your address was. lauren looks around, her eyes landing on the paused screen of squid game. 

“season two?” she asks, nodding toward the tv. 

“is it any good? haven’t had the chance to watch it yet because of training.”

“so far, yeah,” you reply, your tone cautious. 

“like the first season. but… why are you here?”

she turns to face you, her expression soft but serious. 

“i came to talk to you. you’ve been avoiding everyone.. me included.. and it’s not like you. i just want to make sure you’re okay.”

you try to brush it off, waving a hand dismissively. 

“i’m fine. just needed some space, that’s all.”

lauren doesn’t budge. she crosses her arms, tilting her head slightly. 

“come on, y/n. i know something’s wrong. you can’t just disappear like that and expect no one to notice.”

you let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. 

“what does it matter? you probably have a real date to get to or something.”

she frowns, her brows knitting together. 

“what are you talking about? i don’t have a real date. why would you say that?”

your heart pounds in your chest, but you push forward, your voice tinged with frustration. 

“do you have a real partner, lauren? someone you’re seeing while we’re doing this… this fake thing?”

lauren’s confusion deepens. 

“what? no. where is this even coming from?”

the tension boils over, and before you can stop yourself, the words spill out. 

“because it’s driving me insane, lauren! this whole fake relationship thing.. it’s messing with my head. i can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s not just for the cameras or the public or whatever. i caught feelings, okay? within these few months of pretending to be your girlfriend, i somehow…. god, i don’t even know. i like you and i know that’s not part of the plan, so if this makes things too complicated, we can stop. i get it.”

the room goes quiet, your words hanging heavily in the air. lauren’s eyes widen, and for a moment, you brace yourself for rejection. but then her expression shifts… softening into something that looks like relief.

“wait,” she says, stepping closer. 

“are you serious?”

you nod, your heart in your throat. 

“yeah. and if that’s too much, just say the word, and we can call this off. i’ll tell the pr team about the situation myself.”

lauren shakes her head quickly. “no, no. you’re not calling anything off.” her voice is steady, her gaze locked onto yours. 

“if we’re going to stop the fake relationship, it’s only because we’re starting a real one.”

your brows knit together, confusion washing over you. 

“what are you saying?”

she takes a breath, her lips curving into a small, genuine smile. 

“i’m saying that i’ve caught feelings too. you’re kind, funny, and beautiful.. completely yourself no matter the situation. you’re the kind of person who i love spending my time with, even for something as ridiculous as a fake relationship, this has been the best part of my year.”

you stare at her, your brain struggling to catch up. 

“you… like me?”

“yeah,” she says, her smile widening. 

“i like you, y/n. for real, nothing fake.”

the tension in your chest finally loosens, replaced by something warm and overwhelming. 

“so, what do we do now?”

lauren grins, her expression brighter than you’ve ever seen it. 

“first, i’m calling the pr team and telling them we’re done with this fake stuff. after that, we’ll figure it out. together.”

you let out a breathy laugh, relief washing over you. 

“okay. yeah. let’s do that.”

she glances at the tv, her grin turning playful. 

“before that, can we watch the rest of this? i’ve been meaning to start season two.”

you laugh, gesturing to the couch. 

“sure, but you’re sharing my blanket.”

lauren plops down beside you, pulling the blanket over her legs as the two of you settle in. for the first time in weeks, everything feels right.

also real.. 

masterlist

happy very early birthday aj 😆

[funky-lil-ghost]

just want to look feminine in a masculine way is that too much to ask? yet i am denied. many such tragedies on this beautiful gay earth.

[minghaoes]

pouty cuddles [drabble]

mingyu comes home after a day of filming gose and everyone's been meaner to him than usually. what else could he need than being in your arms and dramatically complain about his members, who he loves dearly?

TAGS: kim mingyu x gn!reader, fluff, established relationship, the members are mean to mingyu but he's handling it like a champ (he isn't)

WORD COUNT: 800 words

a/n: my first seventeen fic !! i haven't written fanfics in a minute and i'm a bit rusty so it's shorter than what i will post in the future, but i hope that y'all will enjoy it nevertheless :) please let me know what you think and happy reading !!

Mingyu was pouting. His lower lip was slightly puffed, his cheeks looked a little rounder than they usually did, and his eyes, his eyes were big and brown as they looked right into yours. His head was resting on your chest close to your chin, and Mingyu could not stop staring at your face. His arms were wrapped around your waist, and he seemed comically small in that moment. 

Your left hand softly caressed the warm skin on his back, as the fingers on your right slowly played with his curls. Mingyu sighed quietly and leaned into your touch, not before exaggerating his pout just a little bit more. It was enough to make you coo at him and press a butterfly kiss on the tip of his nose.

“They were mean to me,” Mingyu said, the pout ever so evident in his voice. You suppressed a laugh and indulged in his behaviour. “Who was mean to you, baby?”

Mingyu closed his eyes at the pet name and pressed his body even closer to yours. His body felt heavy on yours, but still comfortable. The warmth radiating from his body was enough to keep you warm, to keep you happy. 

“The members,” he mumbled, and shuffled a bit further up. Nuzzling his face into your neck, he complained: “They said I’m always scared.”

It took you a lot of self restraint to not start laughing. Granted, Mingyu had not been telling you what today’s episode was about, but considering you know how your boyfriend behaved in certain situations, the members’ statement was not that far off from the truth. Yet, the pout on Mingyu’s face was enough to have you reconsider agreeing with them, even playfully. Instead, you opted for lightly scratching his head and pressing a kiss on top of his hair. “My poor baby.”

“Yes, I am,” Mingyu nodded. His lips grazed the skin of your neck and you smiled, hugging him closer to your chest. In response, Mingyu hummed and kissed the same spot softly. He kept kissing you over and over again, until he started speaking again.

“I’m not actually mad at them,” he confessed, and you hummed, “Who would have thought.”

“HOWEVER,” he interrupted you sassily, another pout already forming on his plush lips, “I’m not scared of everything.”

You smiled at him, but Mingyu only furrowed his eyebrows. Your right hand wandered further down from his hair to his forehead, to massage the worry line gently. 

“I’m not scared of being with you,” Mingyu confessed quietly. His eyes flickered back down, feeling less confident now that you reciprocated his gaze. “I’m not scared of committing to you. To give myself to you.”

It was your turn to furrow your eyebrows now. You tried to sit up straight, but Mingyu would not let you. Instead, you opted for hugging him with both of your arms around his neck. 

“Where’s that coming from, darling?”

Mingyu whined and put his head back into place right in the crease of your neck, right on top of your shoulder. 

“Just been thinking ‘bout marriage a lot lately, that’s all,” he replied casually, not knowing that the simple words made your heart beat just a little bit faster than it already did. 

“Yeah?” you replied breathlessly, trying your best to maintain your breathing. Mingyu nodded again, sounding a bit more insecure this time. “If that’s what you’re considering too. No pressure if you’re not interested. I mean, I would be hurt by it, but I respect any decision you might mak-” 

Giggling, you pulled Mingyu’s head up to press a kiss on his lips. Your hand was holding his cheek and caressing the soft skin below your fingertips. In turn, Mingyu’s eyes returned to your face, the same big and brown eyes you had grown to love. The pout was evident on his lips again, and in response, you kissed him over and over again, until the lovesick frown returned to his brows, his eyes softer than you have ever seen them.

“Of course I’ve been thinking about it too,” you admitted, pressing another kiss on the tip of his nose. Mingyu turned his head upwards, trying to catch your lips with his. He whined when you pulled away, his lips returning to his natural pout. 

“Baby,” he said, his eyes switching back and forth between your eyes and your lips, “that’s unfair. I’m still sad. Why are all of you always mean to me?”

You cooed and littered his entire face with kisses. Mingyu giggled at your antics and sighed contentedly. For now, you did not have to know that his members had been nagging him about proposing to you. The box he was hiding in his sock drawer was also completely unrelated to his theatrics. 

[hayakawalove]

Cravings

Summary: Suguru decides he wants to quit smoking, but he can't do it without the help of his partners.

A/N: ME WRITING A POLY SATOSUGU FIC? UNHEARD OF... No but I know it's been awhile, I'm sorry. I am going to get back into them once kinktober is done. This fic isn't super long or descriptive, I just wanted to write something simple from an idea I had. I hope you enjoy! Comments are appreciated!

CW: SFW, Fluff, Slight Angst, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Polyamory, Suggestive Themes, Smoking, Addiction, Food, Cigarettes, Alternate Universe, Supportive Partners, Gender Neutral Reader W/C: 3,136

Credit to cafekitsune for the banner

“Are you sure about this?” Satoru asks, leaning against the door as he watches Suguru. 

Suguru looks up from the fridge, his lips pulled down in a slight pout. He doesn’t know how cute he looks like that. 

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

Satoru tosses a look your way before rolling his eyes. The glance was worth a thousand words. You chuckle to yourself and pick at your pants, trying not to eavesdrop on the conversation. 

“I don’t know. Maybe cause you’ve smoked since you were in highschool?” 

Suguru stands up at that, knocking the fridge door closed with his hip. He’s holding a multitude of ingredients in his hands, all things required for your meal. He sets them down on the counter with a grunt, before looking over his shoulder at Satoru. 

“If you don’t have any faith in me, just say that.” 

The words don’t cut like they should. His voice is soft around the edges, the comment may even be mistaken for a joke. It might be an attempt at humor on Suguru’s part, but you can tell there’s underlying truth there. 

“No, no I do. But you know… in case you don’t make it,” Satoru says your name. “Wanna place a bet?” 

Suguru raises a brow at Satoru before scoffing, shaking his head as he looks down to start on lunch. 

As funny as that would be, you can’t bring yourself to do it. You knew Suguru was going to struggle, and you couldn’t bet on his downfall. 

Not in good faith, anyway. 

“Don’t be mean, Satoru.” You murmur, standing up to patter over towards Suguru. 

His bottom lip is jutted out ever so slightly, creating a minuscule frown on his face. If you didn’t know him any better, it would be easy to miss. But you do know him. And you know him well. Satoru’s commentary was getting to him. He must actually be nervous about the situation, and that fact tugs at your heart strings. 

“I for one think Suguru is more than capable.” You wrap a hand around Suguru’s slender waist, pulling him beside you. 

From the corner of your eye you catch a glimpse of a smirk on his face. You return the act, letting your lips brighten up. Satoru rolls his eyes playfully before taking a seat at the bar across from you. He rests his head on his hand, watching the two of his lovers in front of him. 

“Thank you, baby.” Suguru speaks with such reverence it almost makes you flustered. 

“I believe in him too! It’s just surprising is all.” Satoru says. “This came out of nowhere.” 

It did. You were sort of curious what spurred the moment on, but you figured Suguru would tell you if it was relevant. 

Suguru looks slightly uneasy, reaching around to scratch at his neck. You watch the movement carefully, well versed in his body language enough to know that something is up. 

“Well I mean, it’s bad for you isn’t it?” He begins. 

It was. 

“Yeah, but that’s never stopped you before.” You murmur. 

“They’re also gross too, if that’s any consolation.” Satoru leans back in his chair. 

They were. 

Suguru chuckles and leans forward, propping himself up with his arms against the countertop. He still looks like he's thinking about something you're not privy to. 

“I just want to be healthy with you guys.” His voice is soft, almost as if he’s embarrassed to say it out loud. 

You and Satoru share a look. It was a moment of tenderness that was normal coming from Suguru, but it still struck you in the heart nonetheless. You reach up and run an arm down Suguru’s bicep, smiling brightly at him. The act doesn’t ease his nerves like you were hoping it would. You nibble the inside of your cheek and pinch his hip before bringing your hand back. Suguru jumps slightly at the action before returning to cooking. 

“So, are you scared?” You ask, curiosity leaking from your tone. 

“I’m not scared,” His tone wobbles at the end. “I’m just…anxious.” 

Satoru’s eyes flit between the two of you while he bounces his leg out of habit. 

“Do you have anything to use as backup? For when you get the cravings?” You ponder.

Suguru’s expression is thoughtful for a moment. He always thought things through, so you were sure he would have some type of plan. 

“No, not really. I was planning on quitting cold turkey.”

You hum at that, rounding the counter to sit next to Satoru. It’s easy to tell that Suguru wants to drop the topic by the way he's avoiding your gaze, so you do, if only for his sake. 

~~~

It’s been two weeks. 

It’s a quiet evening. The lights are dimmed and the room is silent between you and Suguru. The two of you sit on the couch in the living room, keeping yourselves entertained. You scroll through your phone with your feet propped up in Suguru’s lap, while he sits next to you with a book in his hand. It’s a well loved novel, the edges of the papers crinkled from years of use. 

Every few seconds you feel his fingers strum against your ankle, the touch so light it almost feels nonexistent. It’s peaceful. 

Suguru’s more or less been doing good in his endeavor. He's been a bit more antsy, a bit more jittery. But he hasn't relapsed, not even once. 

Satoru walks in, strolling leisurely until he plops on the other side of the couch beside you. Suguru briefly looks up with an eyebrow raised before returning to his book, an unamused expression on his face. 

“What’re you guys up to?” Satoru asks, his voice loud, reverberating off the walls. 

You’re engrossed in your phone, so you decide to let Suguru respond. 

“Reading.” His voice is short. 

Satoru plays with your hair for a moment before leaning over to grab the tv remote. He turns it on, either willfully ignoring or not noticing the glare Suguru sends his way. 

“Turn it down.” Suguru says, keeping his eyes focused on the novel in front of him. 

If you look close enough, you can see the twitch of his eyebrow. 

Satoru’s face changes to incredulous. “What? No. I wanna watch something.” 

“Satoru,” Suguru warns, speaking calmly. 

“It’s just this part that’s loud, it’s gonna be quiet again, hold on.” Satoru murmurs, eyes focused on the screen in front of him. 

“I said turn it down!” Suguru’s voice raises. 

The room stills immediately. Suguru never raised his voice. You’ve known him for countless years, and never once has he yelled. You peer around your phone at him before looking back at Satoru, half afraid a fight would break out. 

You’re expecting Satoru to at least look slightly bothered, but he doesn’t. His mouth is straight, and his eyes are the same as they always are, wide with curiosity. You would almost think he hadn’t heard Suguru. He did though, as Satoru turns the tv off and stands up straight. 

Suguru looks mortified. His eyes are like saucers, with his bottom lip trembling. You think it may have bothered him more than anyone else. 

“Satoru, I” he begins to chew the inside of his cheek. “I’m sorry,” 

Satoru gives a toothy grin as if nothing had happened. Under any other circumstance, the moment would have been a cause for concern. Suguru would only get visibly upset if something was wrong. But the two of you were expecting this. You were expecting his fuse to be a bit shorter, his temperament to be a bit worse. 

Satoru saunters over to you, lifting your chin up to place a kiss against your lips. It's gentle, nothing at all like what you’re used to coming from him, before he pulls away. 

“Cranky, aren’t we?” He directs at the other man, stepping over towards Suguru. 

Suguru’s watching with wide eyes. He doesn’t really know what to expect. Satoru’s a wild card even on his good days, especially on his good days. 

Satoru lowers himself to Suguru’s eye level before wrapping his hand around the back of his neck. He gives a little squeeze, not hard by any means but it catches Suguru off guard. Satoru brings his face close to Suguru’s, close enough that they share the same air. Suguru’s unconsciously leaning forward, the magnetic pull of Satoru’s lips too hard to resist. 

Unfortunately for Suguru, Satoru likes to play a bit too much. He pulls away before the two of them connect, an evil smirk on his face as he appreciates the confused look on Suguru’s features. 

You can almost hear the cogs in Suguru’s brain turning. He's realizing he got swindled, by his own fault of course. 

“I'm going to go watch tv in the bedroom, let me know when Suguru decides to behave.” 

Well that was rich coming from Satoru of all people. 

Satoru takes his leave as the two of you watch. It was hard not to feel bad for Suguru. It wasn’t necessarily his fault he was in a bad mood. 

“Hey, you know he’s just teasing.” You aren’t sure why you’re telling Suguru that. 

You’re sure he knows Satoru isn't being serious, but his bottom lip is still jutted out in a pout. 

Suguru flicks his eyes over to you before back down, where he skims through the book. He must be embarrassed. There's a distinct pink tint covering his cheeks and he looks jittery. Suguru never lost his cool, so you can only imagine how he feels now. 

Luckily for him, it doesn’t change your opinion of him at all. 

You toss your phone beside you before making your way over to his side of the couch. The well loved piece of furniture creaks slightly as you crawl towards him. Suguru doesn’t know what you’re doing, but he still sets his book aside. He purposely avoids your eyes while you ease on his lap, his hands grasping at your waist to settle you. You almost want to tease him a bit too, but you aren’t Satoru. You’ll wait until he’s more stable. You don't have the heart to tease him when he looks so fragile. 

“That was kinda mean of him, huh?” You murmur, keeping your voice low. 

He looks so disappointed in himself. You bite back a coo, your body nearly threatening to let it loose. 

Suguru finally meets your eyes. Pool of caramel stares right back into yours, making your stomach flip. Even if he was grumpy, he was still cute. You grab onto the front of his shirt, twisting it in your hands. He hums in response, partially because while it was mean, Satoru wasn't wrong. 

“Are you craving a cigarette right now?” 

“I'm always craving one, that’s the problem.” His voice sounds like it means to be agitated, but instead it comes off annoyed. Not at you, never at you. 

“What about it are you craving?” You ask, playing with one of the dark strands of his hair. 

He never takes his eyes off you, even when you’re looking away. 

“The taste.” 

For a second you think he may be lying. Who would want the taste of a cigarette? But when you look at him you notice he’s being completely sincere. You suppose after years of use, the flavor may be comforting. 

You lean forward, letting your lips graze against his. Instead of following Satoru’s lead, you press your mouth against Suguru. He greedily accepts, leaning into you a bit more than he usually does. Typically, he's the calm and composed one. Suguru breathes harder as his lips attach to yours, as if he’s holding himself back from devouring you whole. There’s a notable lack of tobacco on his breath. The taste of your peach lip balm bleeds into his mouth, coating his lips and gums until it's all he can taste. 

When you pull away he almost looks delirious. He's panting a bit and his eyes are low. “What was that for?” He questions, darting his tongue out to lick up your saliva that paints his bottom lip. 

“So you can focus on the flavor of something else instead.” 

If you were to peer inside Suguru, you would see how he wants to consume you whole. You would see how his chest aches to have you completely. 

But you can’t see inside him. 

Suguru attempts to play it cool, letting a gentle smile spread over his mouth as he reaches up to fix your hair. You lean into the touch, feeling relieved that your Suguru is back. 

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He says lowly, gratitude obvious from his words. 

You couldn’t take away the pain completely, but you could at least do this much.

~~~

“Plus, Shoko is being the worst about it. I swear she’s smoking more just to tick me off.”

“I'm sure she doesn’t mean to. She probably wants to quit just as bad.”

The silence between you is deafening. She definitely didn’t want to. 

“You know she doesn’t.” Suguru replies, unconvinced with your words. 

You can’t really argue there. 

“Okay, but just ignore her!” 

The hum of the cars driving by fills the air around the two of you as you wait outside the convenience store. Satoru all but dragged you both here, telling you to wait outside while he grabbed something. Suguru leans against the wall, trying not to eye the poor soul who was squatting several feet away and lighting up. 

A special form of torture. 

To distract him you bury yourself in his chest, hugging until he relents and wraps his arms around you. The air is slightly chilly, but that feeling immediately dissipates the second he engulfs you. You push your face against his chest and inhale, breathing in the sweet scent of your laundry detergent. Normally, his clothes smell reminiscent of tobacco, the scent never welcoming on its own but because it belonged to Suguru you liked it. Now, your lungs are filled with only his cologne and deodorant. 

“Are you smelling me?” He asks with a cocked brow, petting your back and looking down at your head. 

“No-“ your voice is slightly hard to hear against his body. 

At that, you take another large sniff to which he clicks his tongue and squeezes you against him tighter. A bell sounds out, signaling the door next to you was opening. Satoru comes waltzing out with a noisy plastic bag, shaking it around to announce his arrival. 

“Hey lovebirds,” he comments, voice muffled due to the lollipop sticking from his pink pouty lips. 

Suguru breathes out a chuckle and reaches above your figure, not a hard feat by any means, and drags Satoru’s collar closer to the two of you. Satoru tugs the candy from his lips in preparation. His body collides with the back of yours, leaving you no room for escape as Suguru roughly kisses him. 

You wonder what the sight looks like to strangers. Is it weird? You don’t care. 

You pretend to flail around beneath them, but they ignore it. Satoru tenderly places a hand on your hip to keep you in place as he kisses Suguru. 

“Hey handsome.” Suguru speaks against Satoru’s lips.

Not only is he more grumpy, but he's much more forward now. Not that he was ever really subtle to begin with. 

Satoru steps back to give you space to which you gratefully accept, sticking your head up to take a deep breath of air. 

“Dramatic,” Satoru comments with a grin.

“Bite me-“ you taunt back. 

Satoru sticks his mouth open again, darting his bright red tongue out to lick the candy. Your stomach drops at the sight, and you assume that was probably his goal. He sticks the lollipop back in his mouth. 

“Careful. Maybe I will.” 

Suguru turns your body around and tugs you until your back lands against his chest. He rests his head on top of yours, using the height difference to his advantage. 

“What did you buy?” He questions, wrapping his arms around your stomach to keep you in place. 

“Something for you.” Satoru responds, talking around the candy in his mouth. 

“Any chance it’s a pack?” 

Satoru laughs at that. The sound is heavenly to you, its heartiness filling your body with love. “I’d die before buying one of those things.” 

Satoru seamlessly slides the lollipop from one side of his mouth to the other, before looking down at the bag in his hands. It's droopy with weight, and curiosity has peaked in your veins. 

Satoru finds what he's looking for, producing another lollipop. It’s blue raspberry, you manage to read the label before he tears off the wrapping. 

“For you.” He says, stepping closer again. 

He shoves the candy into Suguru’s mouth, muffling the protests that were beginning to pour out. Satoru looks happy with himself as he stands back, admiring the sight in front of him. His two sweethearts. 

You look up, seeing the stick poke from Suguru’s lips. It’s reminiscent of a cigarette, but instead of being bitter and toxic it’s sugary and sweet. 

“I figured you might miss having something in your mouth. I even got the bag with your favorite flavor!” Satoru says with a grin. 

It’s a smart idea. 

Even if Suguru looks slightly irritated. 

“Oh come on! Don’t be like that!” Satoru pouts. “I would offer to give your mouth something else, but we are in public.” 

Suguru scoffs, his eyes darting away. You can see the way he sucks the flavor from the candy, his jaw ticking as he thinks. 

“So, does it help?” The white haired menace asks. 

Suguru fiddles with the stick for a moment, debating on his response. “No.” 

That means it was helping. He looks a bit reluctant to admit it, but his shoulders sag slightly with relief. Suguru probably just didn’t want to tell Satoru. 

Satoru takes the hint and chuckles to himself before opening the bag again, pointing it in your direction. When you peer inside you see a multitude of sweets. Lollipops, chocolate, and popping candy fill the bag. The colors are bright, mixtures of red, blues, and yellows filling the plastic. 

It was a typical shopping trip for Satoru. 

You grab a strawberry lollipop and unwrap it before placing it in your mouth, the sweet flavor all but melting on your tongue. The three of you all match now, white sticks poking from your lips as you begin the long trek home. 

It was definitely hard for Suguru, but slowly it got easier. Blue wrappers take the place of empty cigarette cartons, the evidence littered throughout Suguru’s car and drawers. It’s hard work, but at least he has you and Satoru. Over time he gets better, with the help of peach lip balm and raspberry lollipops. 

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @kimi01985, @sad-darksoul, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @mikisspeak, @dinolvrrr, @sakui1, @reiluvr, @gothiccwhore666, @bunviixo, @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat

If you want to be added to my taglist please just let me know, just specify what you want to be added to

[strawberrystepmom]

gojo x f!reader. woke up tender don’t look at me.

“Stop looking at me.”

The statement comes from your side of the bed, your half of the duvet you share with Satoru pulled over your chin, your eyes still closed and your lashes resting against your soft cheek. Your voice is raspy, throat dry from sleeping, and he simply chuckles next to you.

“How do you know what I’m looking at? Your eyes are closed.”

They are but the fact he has rolled over onto his side facing you and has been that way for at least ten minutes makes whatever point he’s been trying to make moot. You felt him shift when he first moved and you snuggled further into the bedding covering you, refusing to allow him to interrupt the last bits of sleep you’re entitled to.

Despite this, you can’t just go back to sleep and let him have the last word.

“You aren’t the only one with great perception around here, genius.” One of your arms slips over the top of your covers and reaches out to lightly flick the tip of his nose but he stops you halfway, capturing your hand in his and pressing your palm to his puckered lips.

You may be grumpy before 9 am but it’s hard to remain that way when he presses another kiss into your palm, this one accompanied by an exaggerated smack which makes you giggle. He does it again and takes a deep breath, again dramatic and grand, and continues the process until your giggle becomes a full blown laugh. Sleepy eyes open, blinking and watery, and meet his that are already crinkling at the corners from how hard he’s smiling looking at you.

“I’m up, are you happy?”

He hums and kisses your palm again, grin spreading across his face.

Morning suits you so well it’s a mystery to him why you hate it so much, warm light pouring over your face and body from the bedroom window and illuminating someone he’s already certain is an angel with a heavenly glow. How can he not stare until he has had his fill? The unfortunate thing about Satoru is that he doesn’t think he ever will, as gluttonous and greedy when it comes to you as he is those cream and strawberry filled sweets he brings home.

“Yes. I was lonely.”

You groan and roll your eyes but roll over onto your side to face him anyway. He will never tell you outright when he’s feeling wrong - sad or lonely or tired - but you are good at reading between the lines considering how often you speak in riddles yourself. The truth between these lines? He likely tossed and turned all night and has spent far longer than the last quarter of an hour staring at you and pondering what it means to love you, the divine gift he feels unworthy of receiving but is far too selfish to allow another to take.

Reaching out, you cup his cheek in your warm palm and his eyes shut reflexively. You rub your thumb over the skin of his cheek and while he’s distracted you lift your other arm from beneath the blanket and reach across your body to flick the tip of his nose playfully.

“You should be thanking me for being here to save the day,” you joke and he chuckles, unable to find the drama to react to you flicking his nose because of how happy he feels for the first time in hours.

The small gap between your bodies closes and he pulls you to his chest, kissing the top of your head. You nuzzle against him and he gently rocks you.

“Yeah, thanks or whatever. Not like I needed you or anything.”

You giggle, wrapping your arms around his waist and squeezing him.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Another kiss to your forehead. Satoru begins giggling wildly and you unbury your face from his chest, slightly concerned about what you’re going to look up to see but all you’re met with is a grin and eyes as clear as a cloudless sky.

“Just kidding,” he whispers, dragging the last syllable of the word for dramatic effect. He extends it for as long as he can until you shake your head and press your palm against his mouth.

“Good morning!” His greeting is muffled by your palm and you laugh when he takes liberties to keep kissing the soft skin through his own fit of giggles.

You may not be a morning person but every morning is easier when it is spent by his side.

[pshbites]

LOVE ON AiR: 36. boyfriend

WARNiNGS » profanity, food, drinking, cringe at times (not proofread)

wc: 1.7k

the idea of the live bar sounded all fun and dandy until you were actually there, because here you were, cramped in a booth that was too small for you and your friends, trying to take shots. of course, you were still trying to see the upsides. 

“you know atleast the drinks are cheap” you sent a soft smile to the group and jay simply side eyed you. “yeah.. that doesn’t make up for jake practically being on my lap” he grumbled, trying to scoot away from jake but failing after jungwon told him to stop fussing. “then maybe we need to get up and get some air! come on!” giselle, who was conveniently sat at the end of the booth, got up and clapped her hands. a couple of you got out whilst you stayed with sunoo.

“cmon come with me” sunghoon whined, holding your hand and you shook your head. “later i promise” you smiled at him making him sigh, a small smile growing. “fine” he groaned playfully, waving as he followed jake to the bar. 

sunoo watched you stare at sunghoon for a second and then your gaze fell on sunoo, who was sitting across from you. the expression on your face was unreadable but not entirely. “you’re hesitant about him” sunoo said, taking a sip of his drink as if he didn’t even say anything.  

“you always creep me out when you do that” you shook your head, playing with the straw in your cup. it was creepy because anytime sunoo did that, he was right. you were hesitant about sunghoon, but it was hard to say it because he was perfect. just a small flaw that could easily be fixed. 

“what is it?” sunoo propped chin up by his hand, looking right at you. you sighed, pursing your lips wondering if you even wanted to speak. “why hasn’t he asked me out yet? i mean i don’t get it. is it something wrong with me?” sunoo sat across from you, mouth agape as you spoke. “why do you do this? sweetheart i promise you there’s nothing wrong with you, things take time” sunoo reached for your hand, rubbing it. you groaned, looking down at your lap. 

you picked your head back up and sighed once more, “it’s so weird i mean i go over to his place sometimes and it’s like, we act like we’re a couple but he just hasn't done anything. we literally confessed to each other too” sunoo frowned slightly, “have you told him this? i mean i don’t wanna burst your bubble but you aren’t in a talking stage with me” he spoke, a smile growing on his lips. you shook your head, laughing. 

“it’s just hard to talk about it, i mean i don’t really know how to say it” sunoo sighed out, shaking his head whilst looking at you. “sometimes yn, things that are hard to talk about are the easiest to resolve. there no doubt he doesn’t want you, i mean look at him.” sunoo gestured his head to sunghoon at the bar with jake. you looked in that direction and sunghoon waved to you, smiling. you smiled softly then looked to sunoo who only smiled at you. 

it was easy to go to sunoo in these moments, you loved giselle and kats input but you knew that sometimes, they would tell you what you wanted to hear. sunoo on the other head told you what you should be hearing, which was the truth. “you’re right” you finally said, breaking yourself out of your thoughts. “i always am” he replied, with that sassy voice and you rolled your eyes, smiling softly. 

kat walked up to the booth, she crossed her arms and stared at the both of you. “we came to this place to have fun! not sit around and drink cheap cocktails” she grumbled, making both you and sunoo eye each other. he stood up reluctantly and slid out of the booth, you sighed and followed suit. “great! now let’s go dance, this band is so cool” she grabbed both of you, pulling you to the dance floor. 

sunghoon was back at the booth, giselle jungwon and heeseung sat in front him. currently, you were singing your heart out at the cover band, they were doing a rendition of szas gone girl. he watched as you sang with jake and giselle by your side, all three of you so engrossed in the music.  

heeseung eyed sunghoon and then rolled his eyes. “you’re doing that creepy staring thing again” sunghoon smiled softly, staring at you once more then turning his attention to something jungwon was talking about. “why haven’t you asked her out yet” kat cut jungwon off, turning all attention to sunghoon. she eyed him, judgingly. 

“what?” sunghoon looked at the three of them, confused. “are you leading her-“ “-oookay kat let’s chill!” jungwon cut kat off with a nervous laugh, clearly a bit scared of her. sunghoon pursed his lips, then groaned. “it’s just hard you know, like i want to do something grand but i don’t want to overwhelm her?!” he groaned out, clearly in distress over this. 

“that is the most i have ever heard him speak” kat eyed him up and down, mocking him and sunghoon groaned again. “calm down man, im sure whatever you do, she’ll appreciate it” heeseung sighed, annoyed at how irritating sunghoon was being. 

sunghoon looked towards you once more, his heart swelling at how happy you were. how you laughed next to giselle, he also enjoyed that you got along with jake — as weird as he was. the set ended and you, giselle, and jake made your way to the booth. 

“hi” you smiled, sliding in next to sunghoon. he grinned, putting his arm behind you, scooting over making room for you. “you were having fun up there” he mumbled, making it feel like it was only you two now. “yeah and you should’ve joined us” you punched his arm softly, making him dramatically groan in pain. “oh quit it” you laughed, making him giggle along with you. 

“anyone know where sunoo riki and jay are?” jungwons voice broke you two out of your moment, you turned your attention towards him. “i think they’re by the bar” giselle replied, scrolling through her phone absentmindedly. “can someone go check on riki im scared of new years happening again” jungwon sighed out making jake, heeseung, and sunghoon eye each other. 

“what happened on new years” jake looked around at the four of you. you eyed jungwon who only gave an awkward look. giselle looked between the two of you and rolled her eyes. “he got blackout drunk, to put it lightly” all three of their jaws dropped. “riki? no way” sunghoon scoffed, in disbelief. “um yes way!” you replied, laughing. 

“now can someone check on him” jungwon groaned, looking around. everyone suddenly started to act busy and sunghoon pursed his lips. “i’ll go” he sighed out. “can you get me a drink while you’re there” you looked at him as you slid out of the booth to let him out. “of course pretty” he smiled down at you, waving as he walked towards the bar. 

sunoo jay and riki were just sitting there talking, laughing. sunghoon walked up to them, sitting on one of the stools next to jay. “oh hey man” jay said next to him, sunoo and riki looking in his direction. “hi” sunghoon replied back, smiling softly. “oh god he’s gonna start talking about yn” riki rolled his eyes, sunoo slapping his arm. 

“what’s wrong?” jay asked, looking over at sunghoon who only moped. “this is annoying” sunghoon mumbled, feeling all three of them burn their eyes into his body. “look sunghoon im gonna lay it down on you, yn likes you. a lot. we haven’t seen her like anyone this much so anything you would do she would appreciate it” sunoo spoke, almost reassuring sunghoon. he took another sip of his drink. “but, ask her quick because she’s just going to think you’re leading her on” which only made sunghoon groan and rest his head on the bar table. 

“i remember she wouldn’t shut up about the guy who sang to her for her promposal” riki laughed, sunoo mumbling a shut up to him. sunghoon sat up, picking his head up as well. why didn’t he think of this earlier? “does anyone have cash” he spoke up, getting off the barstool. jay pulled out a 20 from his pocket and sunghoon grabbed it. “wait why- SUNGHOON!” jay yelled out, watching sunghoon rush to the steps of the stage. 

he got on the stage and whispered something to the band. he patted the guitarist back as he handed him the money. sunghoon wiped the sweat off his hands by rubbing his jeans.  

a sweet melody started filling everyone’s ears. “holy fucking shit” heeseung mumbled out, getting your attention. you looked to the stage and saw sunghoon standing there in front of the mic, holding it with his eyes shut. “what is he doing” giselle furrowed her brows and looked at you, you only shrugged in response. 

i’d like to be everything you want. he’s singing. park sunghoon was singing in front of a packed bar on a stuffy stage. hey girl, lemme talk to you, if i was your boyfriend i’d never let you go. kat gasped, looking to you. you could feel your heartbeat in your ears. sunghoon opened his eyes to look at you from the stage. you swore you didn’t see his eyes leave yours as he sang. 

soon enough the entire crowd picked up on the fact that he was looking at you. he held out the last note, his voice sweet like honey. “so? will you be my girlfriend” he spoke, looking at you. everyone in the crowd looked towards your booth. “say yes girl!” an unfamiliar voice rang out in the crowd, making you laugh. you nodded, “yes!” you yelled back. 

the crowd cheered, sunghoon grinned, getting off the stage and made his way to the booth. “what the hell is wrong with you” you stood up, letting him engulf you in his arms. “don’t know” he was smiling so hard his cheeks started to hurt. he pulled back to look down at you, his eyes twinkling. you don’t think anyone had looked at you like that, with such love and adoration. 

according to all of your friends, the two of you were insufferable that night. 

previous masterlist next

AUTHORS NOTE » chat it finally happened

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[thebiscuitlabryinth]

"...We're two sides of the same coin, aren't we?"

The whispered confession falls clumsily out of Pure Vanilla's mouth, almost dragged out, bitterly sweet and strange on his tongue. The words are addressed to his own stained candy glass visage, spilling tendrils of bright blue light across the Solarium of Unity despite the almost suffocating darkness invading the rest of the space.

He knows this isn't really the Solarium of Unity, and he knows he isn't just speaking to a window. The lurking shadows, thick like molasses and blinking every once in a while, give that away. Even if it didn't, there is a haziness here that exists only in dreams, and a lack of the deep tiredness that has been plaguing him as of late.

"Oh, are you finally ready to admit that?" Sure enough, Shadow Milk Cookie's voice comes from all sides, far too cheerful. The candy glass melts and warps before him, the blues darkening until Shadow Milk stands in his place, far more detailed than the artisan silhouette he replaced. His grin is mocking as he looks down at Pure Vanilla, who cannot help but feel uncomfortable at the sight of their appearances blurring together like that, even though he had been expecting something along those lines. "Too bad though – you can't admit something that's wrong!"

"Huh?" It catches Pure Vanilla by surprise. It had been difficult emotionally, but logically straightforward to admit they were two sides of the same coin. He couldn't imagine how that could be wrong, and acting upon an old habit from his student days, he finds himself frantically unravelling that conclusion in his head again to figure out the issue.

Shadow Milk doesn't give him the chance, tutting as he shakes his head in mock disappointment. "You must have a brain in there, can't you use it?" He laments theatrically, contorting himself into an odd shape against the edge of the window pane. Then, again barreling on before Pure Vanilla can reply, "Look, think of it like this. To say we're two sides of the same coin means that we have similarities, even if we are otherwise opposites. That is true to an extent, but it makes our differences sound way more clear cut than they actually are. It may be easier for you to believe, but we aren't really opposites. That would imply I am not whole, and I can assure you, Soul Jam aside, I am just as I always was!"

Ah, so it's a matter of wording. Pure Vanilla isn't sure why he is entertaining this - no, it's because he doesn't want to give Shadow Milk the satisfaction of turning away from the truth. Even now, Shadow Milk's eyes squint cheekily at him, daring him to try and end the conversation.

"Then... we are made of the same components in a different composition." Pure Vanilla tries, a little frustrated with his own hesitance, but it is difficult to tell how Shadow Milk wants him to answer when he isn't making it blatantly obvious.

"So close!" Shadow Milk sighs dramatically as he snaps his head to the side so sharply it makes Pure Vanilla wince, imagining the cracks that would cause on any other Cookie. "But you're relying on technicalities. It's much simpler than that."

It dawns on Pure Vanilla, then, exactly what Shadow Milk is aiming for, the realisation making his insides crawl. He doesn't have to say it, not really, but he isn't sure what Shadow Milk will do if he doesn't, and he unfortunately doesn't have the ability to wake himself up on command.

So he takes a deep breath, fidgeting with his staff as he says, even less than a whisper yet twice as loud. "We're... We're the same. Is that what you wanted me to say?"

"Ding-ding-ding!" Shadow Milk trills, suddenly reaching through the candy glass to grip the window frame and lurching forward across the threshold, leaving a mess of shattered glass behind his head like a halo. It startles Pure Vanilla, who instinctively shifts his foot back, only to be instantly locked in place as the reaching shadows soldify around his legs, its eyes winking up at him playfully. His grip on his staff tightens, willing it to shed its light, the beginnings of panic stirring within him at the restraint. The staff does, but the shadows seem to eat the light without a problem.

Pure Vanilla is so distracted by the shadows that he doesn't notice Shadow Milk's hands until they grab his face. His heart jumps in alarm, and his eyes dart up to find half of Shadow Milk leaning down out of the window, far too close. He is grinning at him, wide and self-satisfied, and his hands are cold and harsh. "See, I knew you had a working brain! Yes, the right answer is that we are one and the same."

He pinches and pulls at his cheeks, and Pure Vanilla tries to cringe away, tries to manuver his staff between them. It doesn't work, if only because hands emerge from the darkness to anchor his staff too.

"But that isn't true." Pure Vanilla mumbles when he isn't able to wiggle his way out and Shadow Milk still shows no signs of stopping, hoping the argument will make him lose interest in his face. "I admit that there are similarities between us, but we aren't really the same."

Shadow Milk pauses, his grip tightening until it borders on pain, and for a moment, Pure Vanilla thinks he may have miscalculated.

But then Shadow Milk snickers to himself, releasing his face entirely and pulling back, his hands resting lightly over Pure Vanilla's shoulders. The brush of weight keeps Pure Vanilla from relaxing, but it is a bit of added distance, at least.

"Aren't we? Well, you are the biggest liar, so I should have expected you would lie to yourself too." Shadow Milk hums, almost sounding delighted at this turn in conversation. It unnerves Pure Vanilla, because he had assumed his disagreement would annoy him.

Instead, Shadow Milk smirks, his many eyes glinting gleefully at him. "Listen carefully, Vani, because here's the truth." He says, his voice dipping into a wicked purr that seems to shudder through Pure Vanilla's whole body. "All the things you hate that I have done, you have the capability of doing too. After all, you've already used people for your own gain, haven't you?" Shadow Milk leans closer with a condescending lilt to his words, shifting his hands so he can wrap his arms loosely over his shoulders, and Pure Vanilla freezes under the touch. "Oh, I know you think it was necessary, but you still sent those naive, tiny Cookies off to carry out your errands for you, regardless of the dangers. That's only a few steps behind what I've done, you know, making people dance to my tune. The only difference between us is severity and time."

The words sink heavily to Pure Vanilla's stomach, not quite true but not quite not true, and he feels a little lightheaded, fingers twitching against his staff. Maybe it's because of that, or maybe it's because of his discomfort from the close proximity, but he finds himself distracted by the way Shadow Milk is talking. He carries his usual air of showmanship, but it is nowhere near as exaggerated as during his brief takeover of the Faerie Kingdom. With his insistence of specificity, his mention of technicalities, his structured method of explaining things, he almost sounds like a–

"We are the same," Shadow Milk repeats, tilting his head to the side, the glow of his eyes burning holes through Pure Vanilla, "and one day, you'll end up just like me."

A scholar.

That makes sense – at some point, his virtue had been Knowledge, and nobody seeks it out as fervently as a scholar – but it still feels like a surprise. Pure Vanilla had always known that Shadow Milk was different, once, but only in the sense that the fact existed in the back of his mind.

"No rebuttal, hmm? Are you ready to accept that?" Shadow Milk asks smugly, slightly impatient with Pure Vanilla's lack of response, but mostly watching him expectantly, as if waiting for a bomb to go off.

Pure Vanilla has never thought about what Shadow Milk might have been like, before he became like this. There was no reason to even consider it. But now, he can't help but wonder, because while he cannot imagine this chaotic, brutal Beast, this great unknown evil, as anything else – Shadow Milk still carries echoes from a past life that he doesn't seem to notice enough to hide with his lies.

"...If we are the same," Pure Vanilla finally scrapes his thoughts together enough to reply, carefully, "then doesn't that make the opposite possible too? That, one day, you will become like me and return to the light?"

Shadow Milk blinks once, his face falling blank. He blinks again, all of his eyes in quick succession.

And then he throws his head back and laughs, the movement jostling Pure Vanilla in the process with his arms still firmly around his shoulders. It sounds unhinged, ricocheting across the room, but it is openly amused. It makes Pure Vanilla antsy, especially with how it rings in his ears like an explosion from their closeness.

He wonders if Shadow Milk's laugh was different, before everything. It must have been. He wonders what it sounded like, and immediately realises that he's being ridiculous. The realisation that a before exists seems to have opened the floodgates in his mind, and now thoughts of hypotheticals can't help flitting in.

"You say such silly, silly things." Shadow Milk bites out offhandedly as his laughter winds down, the lingering remnants still dancing on his tongue. Without warning, he pulls Pure Vanilla even closer, the darkness that had been keeping him in place swirling and shoving him forward. Pure Vanilla gasps, the sound catching in his throat, and one of his hands fly off his staff to reach for something to steady himself on. It finds an edge of shattered candy glass, flinching back and falling down to scrabble against its smooth, intact surface.

Shadow Milk is giggling at him and Pure Vanilla is mortified, horribly so. They are far, far too close, Shadow Milk's face taking up the near entirety of his vision and their upper bodies almost pressed together. It feels claustrophobic, which should be impossible in such a wide, open space.

Shadow Milk makes matters worse by pressing their foreheads together, the gesture weirdly tender and doing nothing to make Pure Vanilla any calmer. His bright blue eyes look directly through him, dissecting him piece by piece.

"Why don't you cut down the Silver Tree and find out?" Shadow Milk coos, his voice overlapping with the Light of Truth's in a deeply unsettling way. His presence is overwhelming.

Pure Vanilla's eyes flicker downwards to escape his piercing gaze, and finds their chests so close that their Soul Jams are overlapping. Overlapping, and not touching, because Shadow Milk's Soul Jam seems to fizzle out of existence where the other makes contact with it, as if it were an illusion. Behind it is an empty space, black as the abyss. With the way they are lined up now, it is obvious that Pure Vanilla's Soul Jam would fit perfectly into the crevice with a little turning. He knew that already, but it still feels strange to see it.

Pure Vanilla sighs, a long, thin, shuddering sound. "...You didn't truly believe that would work, did you?"

In the edge of his vision, Shadow Milk smiles tauntingly, all teeth, but he doesn't say a word.

And Pure Vanilla wakes up, off kilter, exhausted and oddly cold.

[next]

[variety-fangirl]

On My Own / Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: It's the morning after Rafe's threatening behaviour, you're still shaken up, but JJ convinces you to go to the police for the safety of you and your baby. Your relationship with JJ also takes a turn for a huge change.

Warnings: typical toxic Rafe behaviour, swearing, threats, police reporting.

Authors note: Feel free to skip this! Here we are again with my terrible timing and scheduling. For the longest time, I had no ideas for the next part and my scheduling took a turn for the worst. I've been trying my hardest to get into University for the past 3 years and am finally here! There's been a lot going on personally behind the scenes for me too, so things have been difficult tbh 😅 But I've finally figured out where I want this next part to go, I also took longer to write this so it was a longer part for the wait 🫡

Word count: 2.6k

After a filling and delicious breakfast made by Sarah, you showered and dressed for the day. You knew you would need to speak to the police about Rafe's behaviour last night, but honestly? You didn't want to. You were frightened by the power he held because of his family and wealth. Peterkin was the only one you could trust if you were to report him, you knew she would listen and take you seriously. She wasn't corrupted or took bribes to hide the truth, she always did the right thing if she could.

You had been mulling over the idea all morning as you brushed your wet hair. You wanted to protect your baby from being near Rafe if you could, they deserved better than to deal with an unstable and cruel man like him. Did you regret your baby? Absolutely not. But did you regret ever getting involved with Rafe? Yes, more than anything. You knew what you had to do, you just didn't know if you had the strength to do it. (hehehe).

A knock sounded on your door, pulling you from your heavy thoughts. You were honestly thankful for the distraction. John B poked his head around the door as you called him in with a smile. He entered your bedroom, opting to sit on the bed next to you. He bumped shoulders gently with yours, "Hey you. How are you doing?" He questioned as you peered at him. You bumped his shoulder in return, offering your most convincing smile.

"I'll be fine once Rafe is away from me and my baby." You mumbled as you rubbed your clothed bump affectionately. John B nodded and placed his hand on top of yours, always the big brother you needed. He brought his arms up and around your shoulders, lovingly pulling you into his chest. "We'll make sure he never comes near either of you again, and even so, we are all here to protect you. No matter what." You slapped at his arm playfully, "Stop! You'll make me cry!" You could already feel the hormonal tears building in your eyes. That telltale burn. He laughed loudly, not stopping you from hitting him.

Once he calmed down, he teasingly learnt closer to your ear. "Sooooo, what's happening with you and JJ?" the clear smirk sounded even in his voice, you could feel the motion against your head. You turned to glare at him, not at all serious, "Do me a favour? Just fuck off." You pushed at his chest gently, not budging him but it's the action that counted for your pride. He laughed once again before letting you go to look at you properly.

"Seriously though. What's going on?" He questioned with a gentle smile as you scooted to face him fully. You knew you could trust John B with anything and that it wouldn't leave this bedroom unless necessary. You shrugged, "Not sure. Didn't even think he saw me that way until this morning. Now I'm rethinking everything, but not necessarily in a bad way." You commented thoughtfully. You were honestly surprised that your best friend was in love with you, and for years for that matter.

"I mean, I think you should give it a shot. You know no one would love you as fiercely or loyal as him. And he loves the baby already. Plus, you've been best friends for years, so you know him well." He mentioned, naturally bigging up his best friend like the good bro he is. "Only if you want to though, of course. No pressure, I won't mention this conversation to anyone else. Just think about it yeah?" He pulled you in for a proper hug, a natural bear hug that had you sighing contently.

You nodded against his chest, wrapping your arms around him in return. The feeling of love and warmth pulling the tears out of you. "Ahhh, for god sake!" You yelled laughing, frustrated with your over-emotional hormones. You both laughed, yours coupled with sniffles. He held you till you pulled yourself together, chatting about how best to go about things. Until you were ready to let go and go to the police station.

John B left the room whilst you finished getting ready for the anxious day ahead of you. You were beyond nervous, especially about how Rafe would react. Lord knows he would hear about your visit to the station through nosy dickheads watching you. You could already feel a headache forming. You groaned as you put on your shoes, with great difficulty, and then made your way downstairs to join the gang.

Everyone was here, waiting for you whilst they ate or drank coffee. Not everyone was a morning person, *cough cough JJ and John B*. But everyone was up and here for you. They had all been filled in with the details of what had happened. JJ offered to take you to the station while the group returned to John B's. You were so thankful for them all, but JJ most of all. He'd held your hand, metaphorically and physically throughout this whole process. No matter how tough it's been or how difficult you thought you were to be around, he was always there with encouraging words. Not once frustrated with you.

You and JJ pile into your car to go to the station, while the gang returns to the chateau. JJ drove instead of you and insisted on doing so, whilst you bathed in nerves. Music from the radio played quietly in the background as you stared out the windows. You hadn't realised your leg was bouncing repeatedly against the floor, that your hands in your lap were pulling at your sleeves, or that you were biting the skin on your lips absentmindedly. You only noticed when JJ's hand grabbed your knee, rubbing the area soothingly.

You turned to look at him, your knee now still, "it's going to be okay, sweetheart." JJ reassured, trying to calm your chaotic mind and seeping nerves. You placed your hand on top of his, taking a deep breath in as you laced your fingers with his. You place your unoccupied hand on his arm, cuddling his arm into you. You hum contentedly at the warmth he naturally produces, snuggling closer to him. You caught soft wafts of his cologne wrapping around your senses and it instantly helps calm you.

You sigh, "Thank you." You speak quietly, comforted by his desire to help you feel better. He squeezes your knee, not needing to say anything, he already knew you were grateful. He hums, "What were you thinking about in that beautifully stressed brain of yours anyway?" he wonders with a reassuring smile, his eyes staying on the road ahead. You also look forward, watching the sunny scenery go by. People were going about their normal day-to-day activities, some rushing around or exercising. Everyone else's normal lives... unlike yours, which was chaos because of one single man.

You breathe in and then out through your nose deeply before answering him, "Thinking about... what Rafe will do or how he'll react when he finds out. I don't imagine it'll be long. That prick always seems to hear about everything, even before others do. It's like he has eyes everywhere at all times or something." You huff in frustration, looking out the passenger window, "I can't eat, shit or piss without that asshole knowing... So who knows what he'll do when he finds out I've gone to the station to report his behaviour." You whisper the last part, feeling dejected about what was to come with him.

JJ squeezed your knee again, to try and help calm your raging nerves and worries. He nods, "I know. It's going to be difficult but we need to stop him somehow. He needs to stay away from you and the baby, he's dangerous. Or I'll do something that'll get me into trouble." JJ mumbled the last part, seemingly more to himself than to you. You sigh, the last thing you wanted was JJ getting intro problems or going overly out of his way for you. He does enough for you as is, so you don't want him to do anything more.

-

It wasn't before you reached the station and parked outside, opposite the building. You sat in the car for a few minutes before going in, trying to calm yourself long enough to talk to the sheriff. It was beyond frustrating that this was where you were at in your life. That this was what you were dealing with because you stupidly fell in love with the wrong man. You wanted to smack yourself across the head for being an idiot, despite knowing his reputation. You fell for his charm and good looks, like an absolute fool. But now you were here and you couldn't change the past. But you could shape your future.

You look to JJ and nod, letting him know you are good. You both get out, taking your time with JJ's help and walk towards the building. You were going to use every trick in the book to stop Rafe from coming near you or your child again. You would report and record everything that Rafe has done that would class as a risk to your child to keep him away. So help you, you would protect your child with everything you could. With your own life if you need to.

You make your way inside and speak to the man at the reception desk, requesting to speak to Peterkin privately. He points to the chairs behind you in the small waiting area, "Wait here for a bit while I speak with her. She's busy at the moment, so it may take some time." You nod in understanding, "It's urgent, so I can wait. Thank you, sir." You reply as you turn to sit with JJ on the wooden chairs. The chair squeaked in protest from overuse and years of never being replaced.

You and JJ wait as patiently as possible, chatting to keep yourselves entertained and pass the time until Peterkin arrives. JJ held your hand the whole time, sensing your nerves returning tenfold. If your leg repeatedly tapping against the ground or your fiddling free hand had anything to say about it. You were waiting for around fifteen minutes, getting more antsy as each minute passed by. By the time Peterkin called you to go into her office, whilst JJ waited in the waiting area, you were a sweating bucket of nerves.

Peterkin closed the door behind you both as you took a seat opposite her desk, your hands resting on your stomach. "Some water?" She asked with a smile, walking over to her cooler. You nodded, "Yes, please." You were in need of something cold to cool you down and quench the thirst that had formed since waiting. She filled a cup and then offered it to you before sitting at her desk, "Thank you." You said gratefully.

"So, y/n. What kind I do for you? Congratulations are clearly in order." She motioned to your stomach with a kind smile, she was always so nice to you. Still is. "Thank you, not long to go. My pregnancy is actually related to why I'm here." She nodded, giving you the opportunity to speak up.

You gave her the rundown of what Rafe had been doing since the day you confronted him about your pregnancy. It took you half an hour to mention everything you could, trying your hardest not to forget any details. She asked questions where necessary and nodded when listening, all while writing down notes. Peterkin was well aware of Rafe's behaviour, he was a celebrity at the station. Peterkin wouldn't admit it but she did not like Rafe at all. She was completely understanding and comforted you when you teared up about last night.

"Damn, honey... That damn Rafe. I'm sorry for what he's been putting you through, you don't deserve any of that. But legally? I can't do anything. Unless he threatens or hurts you and your baby physically, I can't report anything for you. My hands are tied. Off the record: No matter how much I personally would love to see him punished. That kid is nothing but trouble. But as soon as something else happens, with Rafe, there is no doubt that he will, okay?" She sighs frustratedly, knowing already how deflated and frustrated you must feel.

You nod, hiding all the true feelings that wish to come to the surface underneath. "I understand, if there is anything that I can do, please do let me know. And I'll inform you of anything else that happens. Thank you, sheriff." You get up from your seat and make your way to the door feeling completely hopeless about what you'll do with Rafe next. Peterkin stops you just as you're opening the door, still in the doorway. You see JJ getting up from his seat at the sound of the door opening.

Peterkin hands you a sticky note with her name and number in black pen, "anything you need, just call. Anything. Okay?" She rubs your arm gently after she passes the note to you, a motherly comfort sort of rub. It made you smile, despite all the negative emotions you were feeling. You nodded, "Thank you."

You walk towards JJ, putting the sticky note in your bag for safekeeping. You'd add her contact info to your phone later on. "You good?" JJ questions with concern laced in his tone. You'd been in there for a little while, he'd probably been worried about you. You smile as you look at him, wrapping your arms around his bicep and leaning into his side gently. JJ smiled down at you in return as you answered him.

You explain everything to JJ on the way back to the chateau, all while trying your best not to think all that Rafe had planned since last night. He was beyond angry at you for doing nothing wrong, but in his eyes, you'd double-crossed him. It gave you chills. JJ did his best to assure you that they would all look after you and that he'd kill Rafe if he came near you or the baby, which you appreciated deeply. But you didn't want to get them involved. It wasn't their fault, it wasn't yours either, but you'd made your choice that first time you let Rafe lure you in with a kiss at the back of a house party at Sarah's.

You'd figure something out, you always did. You wouldn't let Rafe win, no matter what. That prick got his own way, way too often. But not this time, no. Rafe was going to stay away from you and your baby. Even if that meant having to flee somewhere he wouldn't find either of you. You turned and looked at JJ as the car stopped, both just taking a moment before you went inside. "Oh, you have something on your cheek." You pointed out, looking intently at his perfectly clean cheek. He started rubbing at his cheek confused, "gone?" he questioned with furrowed brows.

You shook your head, "come here, I'll get it for you." You motioned for him to come closer and as soon as he did, your lips were on his. Just a simple 3-second pec, to test the waters, despite his confession to John B this morning. You pulled away and stared at him with anticipation of his reaction. His eyes were wide in shock and you thought you'd fucked up. You went to move away but JJ grabbed the back of your neck and desperately pulled you in, crashing his lips against yours with a moan.

The more you looked at JJ, the more the talk with John B from this morning played on your mind. You'd been thinking of JJ as something more ever since, trying wouldn't hurt, would it? He wouldn't hurt you the way Rafe did and will. JJ was different and you couldn't lie that you'd never looked at him that way. Trying wouldn't hurt, would it?

Taglist: @bardi4l @fictionconnoisseur @thecraekenslover @brooklynscherry-z

[osaemu]

KAMISATO AYATO: BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME!

.ೃ࿐ modern!au: you run into your ex-best friend's brother after a long time

contents: fem!reader. use of she/her pronouns. ayaka's a little ooc. this was supposed to be 800 words but ended at over a thousand..

author's note: comm'd by @/kruinka, thanks for the trade!!

"shit, i'm so sorry—"

you look up sheepishly at the man in front of you, wincing when you see the dark, coffee-scented stain on his crisp white shirt. your face burns in embarrassment as you trip over your words, coming to a halt when you see his face.

a name registers in your brain, but you don't actually connect it to him until he clears his throat and starts to speak. "ah, don't worry about it. i have a lot of these shirts," he says awkwardly. 

kamisato ayato.

your ex-best friend's older brother.

ayato tilts his head, soft blue eyes surveying the brown liquid dripping down his chest before looking at you. thankfully, there's no sign of recognition in his face as he offers you a comforting smile. "really, there's no need to look that horrified. you're fine."

"i'm so sorry," you mumble, setting the half-empty coffee cup on a table nearby before snatching a couple napkins and stiffly handing them to ayato. "i should go."

you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and start turning around before he calls "wait," essentially forcing you to stay back. ayato studies your flustered expression intently, and unfortunately, luck doesn't seem to be on your side today.

"you're my sister's friend, right?" he asks, looking down at you thoughtfully. you bite the inside of your cheek and force yourself to shrug. it'd be rude to leave now, especially since ayato's made that connection between you and his sister.

he dabs one of the napkins on his shirt, but it only makes the brown spread from his shirt to the cuff of his sleeve. you curse profusely in your head, but common courtesy forces you to take another napkin and help him out.

"so," ayato continues, "what did that mean?"

you pause, looking up at him with a confused look on your face. ayato smiles ruefully and clarifies, "why'd you shrug?"

shit.

"oh," you say nonchalantly, busying yourself with folding another napkin and soaking the coffee from his shirt into it. "nothing."

"really," ayato deadpans, slipping his hands into his pocket. "am i supposed to believe that?"

"really!" you insist, pressing the napkin into his chest a little harder than you meant to.

the truth was that it wasn't nothing — in fact, far from it. you and ayaka had a pretty bad falling out, and worst of all, it was over him. 

just under a year ago, you had offhandedly told another friend that you sort-of liked ayaka's brother (even though he was older than you by a couple years). it wasn't supposed to be a big deal, but of course, word got around that you found you had a crush on your best friend's brother. naturally, ayaka was pissed, but in your eyes, it wasn't a big deal and it wasn't even a real crush.

but rumors change stories, and what once was said to be a crush was now viewed as true love. people told ayaka that you wanted to marry her brother, and as word got around more and more, the stories just kept getting worse.

you never did find out if ayato heard the rumors. maybe ayaka told him, or maybe she didn't see the need to bother her big brother with matters as trivial as you.

"it doesn't look like it was nothing," ayato presses, a soft lilt of amusement coating his words. "tell me, pretty please? i'd love to get some dirt on my little sister."

ayato grins, widening his eyes playfully as he begs you to tell him. "c'mon, you just ruined my shirt. the least you can do is tell me what happened between you and my sister."

you shake your head, and ayato groans stubbornly. "you owe me," he tries, but you still don't reply. "please? it can't be that bad."

"oh, it's bad," you say dryly, flicking two soiled napkins into a nearby trash can. "i wouldn't want to ruin your opinion of me this soon."

ayato scoffs, removing his hand from his pocket and grabbing your chin. a little hm? escapes from your lips, and it makes ayato laugh. he eyes you pleadingly, and although you know enough about him to know that this is all just a means to an end, your heart still skips a beat at the way his cool fingers grasp at your skin.

"what are you—"

"tell me," he breathes, cutting you off as he leans in teasingly. ayato knows exactly what he's doing, and the way he sees it, there's no reason why he can't make his sister's friend (or not) blush just a little. it's cute, really, the way your breath catches in your throat. and maybe the way he can practically see the gears turning in your head makes him smile.

"ayato," a familiar voice calls from the coffee shop doorway. "what's taking you so lo— what is going on?!"

you stumble back from ayato, eyes widening in surprise at the all too familiar voice of your ex-best friend. ayaka pauses for a second, surveying the scene before narrowing her ice-blue eyes at you. 

"so, ayato," she says, resting both of her hands on her hips. ayaka turns to her brother and glares at him. "wanna explain why you're flirting with her?"

ayato laughs and gestures at the coffee-colored stain on his shirt before turning to you and offering an apologetic smile. "looks like i'm the one who should get going. we should do this again sometime."

he waves bye, and you nod in response. ayaka gives you a suspicious look before looping her arm in her brother's and sweeping him away. they gradually fade into the distance, and you eventually leave.

a couple hours later, you recieve a text.

hey it's ayato, got your number from ayaka

you wanna treat me to boba tmrw? then you can tell me everything ;)

[weird-is-life]

Sweet talk

Pairing: Spencer reid x fem!reader

Summary: You tell Spencer how handsome you think he is and he gets flustered

Warnings: use of y/n and petnames, fluff

Words: 0.6k Masterlist

A/N: English is not my first language, so please excuse any spelling/grammar mistakes. I'm sorry this is trash lmao

Spencer is reading on the other side of the couch and you are, well were reading too. You stopped for a second to give your eyes a little rest, but Spencer's pretty face distracted you.

You are now just looking at him, wondering how can he be so handsome. It's actually really unfair, that he gets to look like that.

The sun shining from outside is making it even worse for you, because it perfectly highlights his features and it makes his gorgeous brown locks look even prettier.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Spencer breaks you out of your thoughts, his eyebrows are drawn up in a question. Your cheeks go pink, but you are only a little embarrassed about getting caught.

"Nothing" you mumble, before you break into the biggest grin,"it's just, that you are so pretty!"

It's now Spencer's turn to blush. Suddenly, you realise you don't say how handsome he is to him as often as you should, so you make it your mission to tell him how handsome he is right now.

You crawl across the couch to his side and put your legs over his, so you are basically sitting in his lap.

"It is actually unfair, Spence!" you dramatically pout at him, "how did you get so handsome?" you playfully poke his cheek.

"Stop...."Spencer begs, as his cheeks get visibly redder.

"I'm just telling you the truth" you giggle, " I mean, look at you!"

"You have such a beautiful hair, how is it so soft? " you say as you play with it, " and such a lovely skin, have I told you, I'm jealous of it? No? Well, i am" Spencer just shakes his head, you don't know if he's answering your questions or if he's shaking his head to stop your praises.

"Do you know what I also love?" you grin at him.

"What?" his asks, as if he wants you to humor him.

"Your eyes", you say softly, " they are the prettiest ever. I could look at them for hours." You are perhaps being a little dramatic, but it's all true.

"y/n-" Spencer would be lying if he said, he isn't enjoying your sweet words, but he's never had someone say these things to him. Yeah, Derek calls him 'pretty boy', but that's just as a teasing. He knows, when you say it, you mean it and your loving looking eyes are studying him so closely, that he thinks, he might just melt under your gaze.

Spencer is just about to say something, when you speak again,"But most importantly, I love your kind heart and your beatiful mind, it's my favourite thing about you how selfless and caring you are-"

That's it, Spencer can't let you ramble anymore, because he knows, he'll cry if he does. He tackles you gently to the side. "Wha-,"you start.

"Baby, I love the sweet praises, but I m-might just cry, if you continue" Spencer confesses and frankly, he's not far from crying.

"I'm sorry, d-did I say something wrong?" you immediately sober up from your cheery, teasing mood.

"No no, sweetheart. Far from it, it's just- nobody has ever told me all this at once before, i-i guess it feels a little overwhelming hearing all of it, that's all" he explains and your worry fades away a little.

"Really? I didn't say anything wrong? Because if I did, you should tell me Spence-"

"Really, sweetheart."

"Promise?" you ask, just to be sure.

"Promise." He smiles at you and can't help it, so you hug him tightly. " I'm sorry," you mumble into his chest.

"For what? I told you, you didn't do anything wrong."

"For not saying how wonderful you are often enough," you pout.

"But you do, " Spencer argues," you literally told me at least 5 times today, how handsome you think I am."

"Still, it's not enough," you stubbornly reply, which makes Spencer chuckle.

"Okay, pretty girl, whatever you say," he smiles again at you, before pecking your lips.

"I love you, Spence," you tenderly say and fuck, Spencer doesn't know what he did to deserve this, to deserve you.

"I love you more, sweetheart," he replies, eyes almost watering again from your affection. You sigh happily at that and continue to cuddle him. Both of your books long forgotten.

-

-

-

Thank u for reading! Hope you liked it, feedback is always appreciated.

Have a great day☀️peace out

[freedomfireflies]

Not sure if you take requests so if not please ignore this xo

Bestfriend’s brother trope.

You’re at your best friends house and playing a game either like never have I ever, two truths one lie or would you rather and the topic of kinks come up since Harry’s room is wall you’re leaning on he can hear everything amd hears your kinks and can’t keep it to himself.

You either hear him grunting through the wall or a little ‘meetup’ in the kitchen or his room???

I changed it up just a smidge, but I hope it can still do your idea justice!! 😭 Thank you so much for the idea 🥹💞

“No…seriously?”

“Yeah…why? Is that…weird?”

“No, no…I just…honestly, I wouldn’t have expected it from you.”

“Really? I feel like a lot of people like it.”

Suzie laughs as she shakes her head. “Honestly, I swear. Remember when we were kids, and we were scared to even talk to other people?”

“Were? I’m still scared,” you snort.

She smirks. “I don’t think you’re that scared if you wanna go to a sex club.”

“Well…I’ve never been,” you sigh as you dig your hand back into the bowl of popcorn. “Dated a guy that used to go a lot. He said it was really important in showing him what he liked.”

“So why didn’t he take you?”

Your eyes roll. “’Cause he said he would get too jealous, and since we were in a relationship, it was inappropriate. I don’t know, I think he liked the idea of me being kinky but didn’t want me to actually be kinky.”

“And that’s why you dumped him,” she declares proudly, and you nod.

“Exactly.”

She nestles back into the pillows against her headboard, eyes on yours as if studying you. “Okay, so…what else?”

Your brow raises. “What else…what?”

“What else are you into?”

You shrug as you lean back as well and bring your knees to your chest. “I don’t know. Just…normal shit, I guess?”

“Like? Listen, we’ve already established I’m vanilla, so you’re gonna need to be more explicit.”

You laugh. “You’re not vanilla, you’re just…you like intimacy.”

“Yeah. Sure,” she deadpans playfully. “Whatever.”

“Okay, well…I don’t know,” you sigh again. “I like it…kind of rough, I guess? Spanking, choking…bondage.”

Her eyes light up like a kid in a candy store, and you grin. “Ooo.”

“Stop,” you groan, waving your hand at her to brush her away. “Honestly, I think if my partner is into it…I’m down to try it. Even if it’s a little…taboo.”

“Yeah? Okay, what’s the weirdest thing you’ve done for someone,” she asks, as if eager to live vicariously through you.

And you don’t mind telling her, so, you take a moment to think. “Uh…huh. Well, this one time…I was seeing this guy that worked at an auto shop, and he…uh, he used jumper cables as nipple clamps.”

“Oh, shit,” she murmurs, lashes fluttering. “Did it…did it hurt?”

“Oh, no. I mean, yes, but…not in a bad way. I’m…kind of a masochist, so…I liked it.”

Her smile returns as she puts a hand over her heart. “Oh, my god. I’m learning so much about you.”

“Stop,” you groan again as you shake your head and look around her room. “It’s not that weird.

“No, it’s not,” she agrees. “My brother’s a masochist. Well…an emotional masochist? I don’t know. All I do know is that when we still lived with our parents…I heard some shit I can never unhear.”

Your nose crinkles sympathetically as you chuckle. “I am…so sorry. May I suggest therapy?”

“Oh, already booked.”

“Thank God.”

“Yeah. Hey, speaking of my brother…I’m so sorry he’s here,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “I told him to get a hotel, but he claimed that ‘my apartment was so much cheaper,’ which is absolutely an insult and exactly why he’s sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“Honestly, it’s fine,” you tell her again. “Really, he can have the guestroom, I’m fine with the couch—”

“No,” she interrupts with a stern look. “His ass belongs on a couch. Your ass deserves a bed. End of.”

“Suze—”

“Nope. I don’t wanna hear it,” she repeats as she leaps from the bed and onto her feet. “I’m gonna go get some water, you want anything?”

“…can I steal some more of your strawberries?”

“Duh.”

You smile as she motions you forward before quickly leading you both out of her room and into the kitchen.

However, the minute you round the corner, she releases a very loud, and perturbed groan.

“Harry,” she nearly snaps when she finds him sitting on her counter, a box of strawberries in his hand. “I told you, those are for my guest.”

His eyes shift to you, a smug smile curling around his bright pink lips. “…oh, yeah. Oops?”

She grumbles under her breath and makes her way for the refrigerator before ripping the door open to retrieve a water bottle. “God, you’re a pain in my ass,” she calls to him before turning to you. “Sorry—again—about him. He’s going to share.”

“I am?” he asks.

“Yes,” she hisses, shooting a glare his way. “Or I will call mom.”

“Ooo,” he teases, hand over his heart, feigning fear. “Not mom, anything but mom.”

“God, whatever,” she huffs, slamming the door shut as she heads for the hall, stopping suddenly to glance back at you. “I’m gonna take a shower really quick, and then we can start the movie. Is that okay?”

“Sounds good,” you agree, nodding your understanding as you shoo her forward.

She smiles before sending one last aggravated look her brother’s way (to which he winks) and heads for the bathroom, leaving you two behind.

You turn to him, rather apprehensively as you meet his eye. You’ve known Suzie for years but have hardly ever spoken to Harry.

He’s…nice, you guess. Mostly keeps to himself. But he’ll say hello when he sees you and you’ll return the greeting before you both part ways.

This time, however, you notice the way he studies you. The way a rather curious intrigue makes its way into his expression as he slowly extends the fruit toward you. 

“Strawberry?” he offers.

Gingerly, you reach into the basket and retrieve one. “Thank you.”

“Yeah.” He leans back against the cupboards, continuing to keep his focus on you as you take a bite. “So…how’s the sleepover going?”

There’s a playful lilt to his voice, so you roll your eyes in return. “It’s going great. How’s the couch?”

“Stiff,” he reports. “She was right, I should’ve gone to a hotel.”

You hum as you take another bite before gesturing toward the hall. “Honestly, you can have the guestroom, I really don’t care.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” he declines as he places the strawberries onto the counter beside his thigh. “She was also right about you deserving the bed.”

You smile gratefully before the kitchen settles into a comfortable silence.

However, that smile slowly begins to slip as you start to piece a few things together. “…wait, how did you know she said I deserved it?”

Those vibrant red lips of his pull back into yet another devious smirk as he swipes his knuckles across his mouth. “Walls in here are kind of thin. Sound travels.”

Oh…

You nod, fingers absentmindedly beginning to twirl the stem of your fruit around and around. “And, uh…is that…I mean, how much…traveled?”

He props one knee up, foot landing on the marble as he leans forward. “Oh, you know…not…a lot.”

Oh no. “And how much is not a lot?”

“Not…a lot,” he repeats with a laugh. “Just…something about jumper cables as nipple clamps?”

“Oh, god,” you groan, palm coming up to smack against your forehead. “That’s…I am so sorry, that’s…shit.”

“Why…are you sorry?”

“’Cause, that’s…I’m sure you didn’t wanna hear that.”

“I mean, I wasn’t trying to hear it. Not on purpose, anyway.” He shrugs. “But honestly? It sounded kind of hot.”

You shoot a tedious look his way. “…come on, really?”

“Really.” Another shrug. “What? Shit like that is hot. S’even hotter when the girl is really into it, too.”

You exhale an amused snort as you move to toss the rest of the stem away. “Gee, well, thanks so much for your approval.”

“Anytime,” he declares proudly, matching your sarcasm. “And, for what it’s worth…the guy who wouldn’t take you to a sex club sounds like a fucking ass.”

You whirl back around, cheeks flushing. “Seriously? That, too?”

His palms instantly fly into the air as if surrendering. “It wasn’t on purpose, I swear. You just talk…very loud.”

“God,” you groan again, arms crossing as your head drops back. “Okay, we can be done. This is a very strange conversation, and we can be done with it now.”

“Fine, fine,” he agrees, arms lowering as he watches you head for the hall. “But…if you ever need someone to take you…”

You come to a halt about halfway through the doorframe before slowly glancing over your shoulder. “Excuse me?”

“Well…I know a few places,” he says casually while hopping off the counter. “Could take you to one if you want.”

“I’m sorry, and why would I want you to take me to a sex club?”

“’Cause going alone for your first time can be a little intimating,” he explains, matter-of-factly. “Especially if you aren’t too sure what to do. S’just better to go with someone you trust.”

“Oh, and that person would be you, would it?”

“It could be.”

“Who says I trust you?”

“Who says you should?”

Your eyes narrow. “You just said I should.”

“No, I said it’s better to go with someone you trust, and it could be me,” he reiterates. “I never said you should trust me.”

You watch him carefully as he begins to take a step toward you.

“Think you know better than to trust me, anyway,” he murmurs, the side of his mouth dancing up into a smug grin. “Don’t you?”

You feel the catch in your throat as you look up at him.

The charged silence seems to stretch forever as he allows you a moment to understand.

And once he’s satisfied with your unease…he leans back.

“I’m just saying. If you ever need a playmate…you know where to find me,” he finishes, brushing past you to head for the couch.

And you watch him disappear into the living room, heart hammering inside your chest as his premise lingers in the air.

You almost want to laugh at the thought. Or cringe at the notion that you would ever even entertain such an idea.

But for the rest of the night, all through the movie and after you’ve tucked yourself into bed to sleep…the thought stays with you.

It stays, and it festers, and it expands.

Until you’re teetering on the edge between refusal…and acceptance.

And when you wake the next morning, only one thought remains:

What’s the worst that could happen?

I actually stole the scenario of the jumper cables as nipple clamps from one of my other stories, so if you recognize it...consider that to be a wink 😭

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

[abyssalzones]

[1/3] Hello! My apologies, I'm not sure how the best way to approach this is, so I hope you'll bear with me. I have been struggling with some thoughts surrounding Ford and Fiddleford that I haven't really been sure how to parse, and I am genuinely interested in your opinion. I mean this in good faith, an open mind to learn, and from the perspective of someone who really enjoys your depictions of these two characters. Especially in your review/analysis of the Book of Bill, I really agree with the way you describe Fiddleford's significance to Ford and how their relationship with each other is.

I'm going to keep this fairly short and simple because my feelings on it are honestly not that complex, but I do really appreciate you coming to me with an open mind and explaining your own perspective. The truth is that I really don't think anything Bill did to Ford is equivalent to what Ford did to Fiddleford- which is not to say we're setting a standard for abuse at "the most extreme shit ever", but more that... I just don't see any evidence for it, whether that's textually or thematically.

Don't get me wrong- Ford definitely treated Fiddleford unfairly at certain points in the story. It's a major part of why their reunion feels all the more satisfying... but I think that has less to do with Ford not respecting Fiddleford and can be attributed largely to Bill's manipulation driving a wedge between them both. Ford and Fiddleford are, objectively speaking, equal partners: they were roommates in college, Fiddleford drove up to Oregon and stayed of his own accord to help Ford with what would become their portal project, and when shit gets to be too much, Fiddleford leaves. It's clear that even outside of a romantic interpretation they make for very good friends, something that to me is clearly not just a boss-employee relationship.

So the biggest faults in how Ford treats Fiddleford boil down to two things: a lack of trust ingrained from childhood bullying, and the evilest motherfucker in the world sitting on his shoulder and whispering lies into his ear. When Ford gives Fiddleford a stack of equations to work on, he's working himself to death just as hard if not harder. When he mixes up his Cubic's cube, he's playfully messing with him and potentially not understanding that it really is bothering him (if it is.) And later, when things start to truly unravel, Ford's rash behavior (leaving him at the diner, yelling WELL FINE I DON'T NEED YOU I DON'T NEED ANYONE >:(, etc) it's Bill's influence well and truly consuming him and successfully isolating him from someone he had a once-healthy relationship with. hell, even in the journal's small segment about the "a better world" dimension, Fiddleford and Ford eventually make up and become business partners after the success of their portal project, regardless of everything that happened between them- with a way shorter timeframe between those things than in canon.

Idk I just think that while it's true Ford has flaws I think that's true of... any other character on earth? and I just personally can't see a reading of their dynamic that's abusive being true. and that's not only for textual, canonical reasons but a matter of framing between Bill & Ford vs Fidds & Ford. I think "well abused people are capable of abuse too!" is a fair point to make but in this context seems superfluous and really committed to this idea that Ford is just as bad of a person as Bill, or something, that often happens with abuse victims in or out of fiction.

but that's just me

[kasagia]

❄️️Warm my heart pt. 7❄️️

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/ The Darkling x fem! heartrender! reader Summary: The truth sets you free… sometimes even if you don't want it to. (Belated) Merry Christmas!! There is a one last part left to this story... Word Count: 4,3 k Taglist:@aoi-targaryen @budugu @flostvs1508 @chelseyyouraverageluigi ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova’s Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 6 ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 8 ~•♤♤♤•~

"Leave me alone, Fedyor!" you shout at the heartrender, who somehow managed to find you in the crowded city. Christmas was in a few days, and the residents of Os Alta took to the streets to buy the rest of the gifts at the last minute.

Tomorrow, you would have probably been among them too, picking up a gift for the general, if it weren't for the conversation with that old witch who tormented you in your youth when she was your mentor and trainer.

"C'mon, Y/N. We need to go back to the Little Palace."

Fedyor grabs your arm, trying to pull you away from the bar. But you don't let yourself be distracted from your place. Instead, you pour him a glass of alcohol and hand it to him, clinking your glass against his.

"How is it that the guy I like always turns out to be a red flag? Is it because of our keftas? Do we always end up with a man fitting our outfit?"

"Oh, saints... I thought you were a little more sober." he sighs and downs his drink, sitting down next to you. You lean against him, nuzzling into his shoulder as you continue your drunken accusations and complaints.

"I am sober! I am finally sober, Freddy!"

"Fedyor." he corrects you, smiling in amusement at your cute drunken state.

"Whatever." you say and drink a shot. "The point is... that men suck." you speak in a very serious tone, as if revealing a great secret to him.

"Hey!" he says, acting indignant and playfully pushing away from you. This makes you lose your balance a bit, and you grab the wooden bar counter with all your strength.

"Not you! I mean, not gays. Well, Ivan too, since you both argued, but… Ugh! You know what I mean." you lean on his shoulder as he tries to lead you out of the bar without you noticing.

"Yeah, I can imagine." he obediently agrees and puts your cloak on you before leading you out into the streets of Os Alta.

"What I want to say is that I am finally sober from my stupid feelings, crushes, and everything I was feeling since I've started to work with that damn bastard."

"Who the hell made you hate him so much?"

"Myself. And woman. A really wise woman. We should listen to women more!" you shout, hugging him tight as you lose your balance in a rush of emotions.

"Y/N. Let's get home. Before you fall and smash your head on the ground."

"I should've taken Zoya with me. She knows how to have fun. Not like others. And she also hates him! Alina probably too. We can start a club! The club: 'I hate the Darkling." you mumble in your drunken state, holding on to Fedyor for dear life as he leads you to the Little Palace.

He thanks all the saints above for not noticing that you two are passing through the gates of the palace.

"You don't hate him. You are just hurt for some reason. I can't tell why, but I guess you should go and talk with him about anything that happened."

"You have the right!" you agree with him enthusiastically, and he frowns in surprise. From the combative and defiant way you expressed your sudden aversion and hatred for the general in the bar, he expected you to fight him at all costs. "Let's go!" his eyes widen at your words, in realisation that you weren't on a peaceful path to reconciliation at all.

You push away from him and stagger towards the general's chambers.

"No! Y/N! Wait! Not now." he says panicked and runs after you. He grabs you by the collar and pulls you back before you hit the wall.

He sighs, realising that it won't be that easy for him to convince you to go to your own chambers instead of going and arguing with Kirigan.

Aleksander was returning from a meeting with the king, to which Ivan had dragged him. He was angry at this old fool for interfering in the affairs of him and the Little Palace. Or, actually, he was so angry that he had to leave your warm arms and soft lips to deal with this royal asshole for three hours.

All he wanted was to come back to you. He secretly hoped that maybe he would find you completely naked in his bed or in his warm bathtub, waiting for him.

But when he reached his chambers, he didn't find you at all.

"Y/N?" he asks as he comes inside. He walks past the war room and kncoks on the table in case you didn't hear him walking inisde. "Y/N?"

He looks into his library, his dressing room, his bedroom, and even his bathroom (yes, he was a fool who never gave up hope), but you are nowhere to be found.

"Y/N?!" he shouts, returning to the war room. His heartbeat sped up dramatically. You weren't here. You were supposed to wait for him.

Aleksander had to find you. You wouldn't just leave without leaving a note—nothing. On the other hand, he didn't notice any signs of a fight or a skirmish in his chambers. You simply vanished. You disappeared. Like you've never been here. Like all the moments he shared with you, they were only an imagination of his mad mind. For a moment, he felt like he had lost all his common sense.

He put on the kefta again, which he threw off as soon as he arrived. He was adjusting his collar when he stopped, alarmed, hearing a noise in the corridor.

Just in case, he summons his shadows and leaves the chamber with his black shadows dancing around his fingers. He leaned out slightly, scanning the corridor, ready to cut in half whoever dared to take you from him again. He sighs in relief when he sees you on Fedyor's shoulder as you say something to him.

For a moment, he was terrified. That they came for you again, that someone took you from him again, that something happened to you again and he wasn't there in time to save you... or that you wanted to run away from him and leave him like so many others.

Like Luda or Ulla.

"Y/N." he sighs with relief. Your eyes widen as you see him.

He was walking towards you, but he stopped when he saw betrayal, bitterness, and rage shining in your eyes instead of the loving gaze he used to receive.

But that wasn't what worried him most. That was your look—the same look he got from many people in his youth when they found out he was a shadow summoner. Except that your disgusted, angry look hurt him more than any of the people's glances at him, his mother's scoldings and taunts, or the wound from the blades they tried to kill him with.

He sees how you tense up at the sight of him, watching his every little move carefully. He felt anxious, a shiver running through him as he was greeted with your hostility instead of the sweet smile with which you said goodbye to him. And he had no idea where your change in attitude had come from.

Something was wrong…

"There it is! The liar! The bastard! The walking devil himself!" you shout, walking towards him.

You trip over your feet, and he automatically takes a few steps forward to catch you in his arms before you land on the floor. He looks at you carefully, and by the strong smell of alcohol coming from you and your flushed cheeks, he perceives your condition.

He completely forgot about your hostility. For now, his priority was keeping you safe and comfortable. Firstly, he just needed to understand the reason for your drunkenness. When it turns out that nothing terrible has happened (such as the sudden death of one of your family members), then he can cope with that sinister glint in your eyes that appears each time your gaze meets his.

"Is she just drunk or something bad happened?" he asks Fedyor, confused, as he finally get together enough to say something.

"YOU! That's what happened! You are the worst fucking man I have ever felt in love with." his heart skips a beat at your drunken confession. He wanted to hear it; he had secretly craved it for some time, but certainly not under these circumstances...

"C'mon, milaya. Let's take you to bed." he whispers, nodding at Fedyor to leave. Heartrender bows to him and heads towards his chambers, leaving you two alone. He gently hugs you and leads you back to his chambers.

You lean on him, and for a moment, everything seems okay as he sits you down on his bed and kneels in front of you to untie your shoes. But when your eyes meet his face again, you go into a kind of fury, kicking him and moving away from him as far as possible.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

"What happened to you?!" he asks, bursting out. He doesn't understand your sudden hostility, how your attitude towards him changed in a matter of minutes—hours, actually—and how suddenly all your love and affection just... stopped existing for him.

"You!" you shout, pointing your finger at him. You wobble on your feet, and at the last moment, he comes over to catch you. This time, you let him place you on his bed and take care of you.

"More details, please." he sighs in anguish, making sure you're comfortable for the rest of the night. Whatever wrong you think he's done, no matter how mad you are at him, he won't let you escape his watchful eye like this. He would keep you safe even if you pointed a damn shotgun at him.

"I had a really nice conversation with Baghra." he freezes, halfway through unbuttoning your coat. Baghra talked to you. His mother, who hated his insides. Various scenarios and stories that she could have told you run through his head. He's glad you're telling him that when you're drunk. At least this will give him time to prepare his counter-speech until you sober up and can have a serious conversation. He just hopes that Baghra hasn't had time to make you completely hate him and to turn you against him in the few hours he's been gone. "That's it, you lying traitor! I know everything!"

"Y/N... it's not what it looks like..."

"Of course! Yes! How was I so blind to fall for your lying tongue?! I believed your sad stories and cute, puppy-like eyes, like some stupid, naive girl. Ugh! I stayed with you for damn Christmas, so that you don't feel lonely and could enjoy the holidays for probably the first time in your damn life instead of visiting my little brother!"

He doesn't respond to your words. He just holds your hand and strokes it gently as you continue to drunkenly mutter whatever's on your mind. And he listens carefully, focusing his attention on all the noteworthy words that will help him understand at least a little about how you feel and how he can fix the mess that this mad witch called his mother has gotten him into.

"I just thought you would turn out to be a better man." you whisper disappointedly, snuggling into his pillow. He finds the sight both endearing and heartbreaking.

He sighs and presses a kiss on your forehead, running his hand through your hair as you sleep deeply.

He won't lose you. Many people turned away from him; he let many of them go; he also lost many, but you won't be one of them. He may be selfish, but he's fed up with loneliness, and with you... with you, he feels like a completely different person. Someone he was before centuries of life shaped him into the man he is now. A general who was supposed to take care only of his Grisha, no matter what. A man who knew that power was something that had to be tamed, something that could not be allowed to go uncontrolled, and with you, he had lost too much of that control lately.

He had to fix everything.

And the sight of your tears drying on your cheek and neck, where he had placed tender kisses hours earlier, made him realise where he needed to start.

"You're already crawling here? I thought you'd be chasing your precious little heart first." his mother said this as he stood at the entrance to her cottage. She was finishing packing. A few years ago, he would have thanked the Saints for finally getting rid of her, but now he was glad he had made it before she left.

"Did you think I would just let you leave? That I'll let you escape and hide in a hole while I put out the fires you start?"

"I don't need anyone's permission. Besides, I doubt you'll be able to put out this fire. This little girl is quite a gasoline. She didn't need much to understand what she got herself into. Or to run away." he laughs mockingly as he steps inside. He leaves the door open to get on her nerves.

"Then, with great pleasure, I am here to say that she is back and sleeping peacefully in my bed."

"Stupid girl." she mutters under her breath and closes her bag. She throws it over her shoulder and finally turns to face him. "And what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be keeping an eye on her? After all, she can tell your little secret to the Sun Summoner. And then your plans…"

"I trust her." he says confidently, staring defiantly at his mother. "She won't do anything against me." he adds, feeling the necklace you gave him under his kefta and remembering the countless times you stood by his side, the countless times you showed him your devotion and affection.

"She trusted Kirigan. Not Aleksander." she notices. Aleksander feels bile rising in his throat and uncertainty, but he quickly shakes off the feeling, knowing that causing it is the purpose of his mother's words. And he learned better than to continue listening to her poison.

"She will trust the real me too."

They both stare at each other, waiting to see who will give in and whose defence will be low enough to strike a blow. This was mainly how conversations with his mother went. Eternal strategies, planning the next step, careful observation, and most importantly, keeping a mask and not expressing any real feelings and thoughts.

Maybe if he hadn't created the fold, things would have been different between them. But it wasn't. And he didn't know what hurt him more—that he had lost his only support over the centuries or that he couldn't just let her go or hate her completely as she deserved.

"After you lied to her? I doubt it. Remember what I told you? That greedy man may be terrible, but..."

"But there is nothing like a mad woman." he finishes for her, rolling his eyes at her poor attempt to make him doubt or dislike you in any way. "I have nothing to worry about."

"Then you should watch out for her. She may be Grisha, but she's as dead as we are, as is Miss Starkov. It's easy for something to happen to your precious little second-in-command."

"Be careful with your words." he growls menacingly, taking a step towards her. He glares at her with his evil gaze, but it does nothing for her. He knows he won't hurt her, just as she won't attack him... at least not yet. "If you put her in harm's way... think about what I might do..." an unspoken threat hangs between them.

"You were pathetic. You are pathetic. And you will always be pathetic, Aleksander."

He almost flinches at her remark. The eternal dispute between them. About Aleksander's attachment to people. Even the most fragile and weak ones, when Baghra abandoned her own children when they were not strong enough... Like she did with Ulla.

"Just like you'll always be alone, mother." he points this out and is happy to see the slight change in her facial expression as her mocking smirk disappears from her face for a moment. His small victory.

Baghra doesn't respond to his words. Shadows engulf the cabin, and before he knows it, she is gone, leaving him alone inside. He clenches his fists and spreads the shadows with a sweeping movement of his hand. He sighs, wondering how much Baghra told you was true about him and how much she made up to paint him as a power-hungry monster in your eyes.

He returns to the Little Palace in the morning. He's waiting for you to wake up, trying to read some reports and finish writing orders, but he can't bring himself to do it. All he thinks about is you, what he will tell you, how you will react, and whether you will hate him like his mother wanted you to.

When you finally wake up, he feels both delighted that his torment is over and concerned that he will have to talk to you soon. He walks up to you and hands you a cup of water and some hangover medicine.

But you don't accept it from him. Instead, you stare at him uncertainly, distrust shining brightly in your eyes, piercing his heart. He swallows, trying to get rid of the feeling of pain.

"You are aware I am the same man I was 24 hours ago?" he asks jokingly, setting the glass and medications on the nightstand next to you. He doesn't sit on the bed; he stands next to it, giving you some space. He must act methodically and carefully. Approaching you like a deer… or stag.

"No, you are not." you say it stubbornly, glancing at the things he left on the bedside table.

You raise a glass and look at the drugs carefully. Fortunately, he refrains from snorting, disbelieving that Baghra only needed a few hours of conversation to turn you against him. YOU. The only person he showed the parts of Aleksander hidden deeply in the darkest parts of himself from the world.

"Y/N... please. I just want to talk."

"About what? How have you been lying to me?" she asks him hostilely, looking at him defiantly. He knows that look and attitude. He had seen you like this more than once, when you were interrogating the Fjerdans they had captured. He never wanted to be at their place. And there he was.

"About how can I fix the way you think about me because of my mother, who isn't as much of my fan as you can guess now?"

"Well, at least now I know who you inherited this attitude from." you huff, getting out of bed. You reach for your folded kefta on the chair he left for you and start to put it on yourself.

"I beg your pardon? I am nothing like her."

"You even wrinkle your nose in the same way when something irritates or annoys you." you point it out, and he chuckles bitterly, shaking his head as he walks over to you. It's not too close, though. After yesterday, he knows better than to try to treat you with the same tenderness as before. Even if he desperately wants to.

"It's been many years since I thought of us as being anything remotely similar... of course, instead of being shadow summoners, immortals, and Morozovas."

"Wait, Morozova? Like... like the stag of Morozova?"

"Yes. Like the stag of my grandfather." he admits, shocking you even more. He watches the gears in your head turn as you uncover the hidden truth, connecting the lies Baghra told you with what he managed to reveal to you about himself.

"So not only are you… a Black Heretic, but you're also Morozova's grandson?"

"Y/N... I know it can seem complicated for you..."

"No! No. Nothing is complicated. You... you created the fold. And now you chase the stag to get its bones so you can amplify your and Alina's power to have full control of the fold. To take control of Ravka and call yourself a king."

"That's... not exactly the truth." he says, taking a step towards you. You automatically move away from him, and he clenches his jaw in frustration and anger at his mother and you for so easily believing Baghra's words.

"And what should I've believed in? You've been lying to me all this time!"

"Telling you half a story is not the same as lying." he defends himself, now staring at you with an equally obstinate gaze as you both stubbornly stick to your opinion.

"Maybe in your point of view, but not in mine." he sighs at your words, running a hand through his hair. You see his shadows hovering in the corners of his chambers as he stares at you in annoyance.

"I do not understand your behaviour. Nothing happened. You know that I was slowly revealing pieces of myself and my past. I guess you didn't expect me to tell you right away that I am... a Black Heretic. That I had lived a hundred lives, that I had to be reborn each time as somebody else to keep my existence in hiding. What other choice did I have?"

"That's the problem, Aleksander, you don't see any other solutions. You go with what is easiest for you." he huffs furiously and walks over to you. You fall back, bumping into a wall.

"Yes, because fawning over the king for hundreds of years to keep my Grisha safe is the easiest thing to do. You have no idea what I went through to give my people what we have now. If it weren't for me, you would be running away from Ravkans, Fjerdans, Shu Hans, and other beasts that want us dead or experiment on us. You don't know what it's like to go hungry, to have no roof over your head, to fear every day for your life and the lives of your loved ones, to see them die, and to bury every single person you have ever cared about. And do you know why? Because thanks to me, Grisha are now treated better than animals." he's now standing exactly a step away from you, breathing heavily with anger as he glares at you defiantly. He doesn't touch you, but you feel his heavy breath on your cheek.

"Creating a golden cage from the fold will not make us safe. You cannot isolate yourself from all evil and danger. You have to fight it. I never thought you were a coward, Aleksander. Don't make me believe you're really someone else."

You manage to push him past so you can walk towards the exit. He grabs your elbow, stopping you from leaving. Not hard enough to bruise, but enough to make you stop right there.

"What are you going to do?" he asks after a moment of heavy silence between the two of you, staring intensely at the back of your head, waiting for any movement from you.

"Nothing. You are still my general. Besides, I doubt anyone would believe me if I tried to tell the world who you really are. And don't worry. I won't tell Alina that you want to claim her power to yourself."

"It's not like that at all…"

"DON'T." you say furiously and sharply, turning to him slowly to meet his gaze. It takes all of your strength to hold back your tears that are also shining in his eyes. “Don't lie to me anymore.”

"Milaya..." he whispers desperatly, trembling as he is reaching to cup your cheek in his hand, but you pull away from him before his fingertips can touch your skin.

"If you want to prove that Baghra lied, that you weren't pretending to be a boy hurt by the world just because you were looking for some sick feeling of comfort or normality from me... if you want to prove that I'm not another Luda for you, someone who only reminds you of your great love, then prove it to me. Prove that you are a better man than Baghra taught you to be and describes you."

"The world needs a monster to change, Y/N, not a saint or hero."

"You are good, Aleksander." you say, taking a step towards him and cupping his cheeks with both of your hands. His beard tickles you a little, but you don't mind as you stroke his skin with your thumbs, keeping those dark, teary irises focused entirely on you. "I see it every time. In your patience with the little Grisha, in your concern for the well-being of each of us, in how sweet and protective you are around the people you care about... in the fact that despite hundreds of years, you still have a fragment of humanity preserved. You don't have to be rough. You don't have to be evil and ruthless. Baghra taught you that you won't survive by showing weakness and taking care of the people you outlive, but you are not like her. You are not a monster. Please don't prove me wrong. Don't prove to me that you don't care who suffers, Ravkans, Fjerdans, or others, as long as you win and achieve your goal, however honourable and glorious it may seem." you whisper the last sentence shakily and tilt his head, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. You close your eyes for a moment, absorbing his warmth and scent and memorising it.

You finally pull away from him and leave his chambers without looking back. He gives you a longing look and closes his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. His eyes land on the plans spread out on his war table.

And he can't help but wonder: Is everything he has worked for all these centuries worth standing utterly alone at the end of his glorious purpose?

[ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal]

Don’t ever tell yourself that you’re not enough, I am certain that you’re truly fine

PART SEVEN

Ot8 x reader

Word count: 650

Just a warning, this is my first fanfic! Does have age regression themes so if you’re not a fan, I ask that you respectfully just don’t read <3 also this will definitely have some angst

!THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION!

“Maybe we should go…” Felix speaks up almost quietly, feeling like they’re now invading a conversation that should be private.

You look at Han, trying to search anywhere that he’s just messing with you. But you know that Han would never do that, never say something with so much emotion just for it to be a stupid prank in the end.

The others gradually leave the room, Changbin having to be dragged out by Hyunjin. Once it’s just you and Han, alone, his brown glassy eyes start looking deep into yours. “I would never lie to you about that…” Han says softly, his face serious yet gentle.

“How long?” You ask, your voice barely a whisper as if you still don’t believe Han. It’s hard to believe that the guy you been in love with since you first laid eyes on him, would like you back.

He takes a shaky breath as he starts to slightly fidget, something he tends to do when his anxiety starts to act up. “R-Remember when you came to my house for Christmas a-and we spent the whole time in my room watching different anime’s?”

You nod and blush at the memory.

“You fell asleep, snuggled up against me…”

Han continues, his voice shaky as if he’s afraid to voice his feelings. “That was when, uhh, you know… when I started to fall for you…”

“Ji, that was not even a week after we first met.” You say softly, your mind going wild.

He nervously laughs, now avoiding looking into your eyes. “Was it?” He ask anxiously, as if he didn’t know that himself.

“If that’s the case, I win.” You say proudly, trying to lessen his anxiety, taking the weight out of the conversation.

Han looks at you confused, “you win? What do you mean “you win”?”

“I’ve been in love with you longer,” you say with a smile as you notice his anxiety slowly fade to shock.

“I didn’t know this was a competition, princess.” Han says with a smirk, now he starts to sit by you. “All this time, I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

You nod, turn on the couch to face him. “It seems like we both didn’t say anything for nothing,” you say laughing.

After a while, things become serious again. “So where does that leave us?” Han ask, looking soft into your eyes.

“Where do you want it to leave us?” You ask. You never were good at making decisions, but Han never was good either.

“The right option is for yall to go on a date, but what do I know.” Minho says, walking back into the living room. He’s been eavesdropping the whole time.

Han and your heads snap into his direction. “Hyung, how long have you been there?” Han ask, his cheeks turning red.

Minho pretends to think, “practically the whole time. I had to make sure my babies were leading themselves in the right direction.”

“My babies” makes you and Han blush. Though Minho said it in a teasing tone, there’s still a hint of truth to it. Han knows your little crush on Minho just like you know of Han’s crush on Minho.

“It’s not a good thing to eavesdrop, Min.” You say softly, laughing a bit which causes Minho to playfully hold up hands up.

“In my defense…” he starts to say then puts his hands back, “yeah I don’t have an excuse… other than wanting to make sure things were going good here.”

Han and you look at eachother, then back at Minho. “Things are pretty good, I think.” Han tells Minho.

Minho starts to walk back but turns around, “okay I lied, well I didn’t but I have a real reason for being here.” He comes back and sits in another couch, facing us. “I want to go with yall on yall date.”

(If anyone has request for future chapters or just one shots, fill free to let me know!)

(Taglist is open)

TAGLIST: @puppyminnnie @galaxy4489 @xxeiraxx @yunhospuppy

[wolfiesmoon]

JJK boys with a gyaru GF

i wanted to write for all these bois but didn't have a good enough concept let's do what i do best!! Short drabbles!!...😔

I did this on my main blog too and it did really well so here i am🥰

Characters featured: Nanami, Choso, Megumi, Gojo

Nanami Kento

"Hahahaha! Kento, you look sooo cute!" You clapped your hands, satisfied with your work so far.

After much convincing, Kento allowed you to give him a gyaru makeover. It was almost artistic how much the bright, colorful accessories contrasted his strong body and calm personality.

He sighed. He can't believe he's actually letting you do this. Your puppy eyes are quite a dangerous weapon, he fears.

When you move away for a bit, he asks "Are you done?"

"Done?! We haven't even gotten to the makeup yet!! Or the nails!!" Your response shocked him. You really were going all out here, weren't you.

"Which, speaking of nails, let's do a leopard pattern like your tie!! Have I mentioned how that tie is peak gyaru yet?" Your mention of the tie evolved from there and he listened to you ramble on about the latest trends in gyaru fashion.

He liked the moments where you rambled on about things you enjoy. He loves the sound of your voice, especially when you're excited about the thing you're talking about.

You press a quick kiss to his nose all of a sudden, making him jump slightly in surprise.

"Hehehe, sorry. Your smile was just so cute and I couldn't resist." He was... smiling at you?

God, you're gonna be the death of him.

Choso Kamo

He's always had his eyes on you. To be fair, you were a little difficult to miss with all your bright acessories and clothes. And with a bright smile to match, too.

"Choso!!~" you ran up to him, hugging him tight. He awkwardly wrapped his arms around you, causing you to smile at him.

He would do anything for you, and he makes that clear as day. He holds your shopping bags, he helps you pick out nail designs and plugs in the curling iron for you while you're still doing your makeup.

Of course, he would do a lot more than that but you never let him.

"Hello." He greeted you simply, wondering where you'll take him today.

"Soooo, there's this new clothes collection I've been eyeing for a while..." you let go of him, much to his dismay.

"Do you need money?" He asked.

"What? No, I've been saving up! And I want you to come with me to pick out the best date outfits, and the best girls night outfits, the best party outfits, you get the point." You listed all the necessities off, straightening one of your fingers each time.

"Ah, I just went and called you over without explaining anything beforehand. You're not busy, are you?" Your face suddenly shifted to worry, something he hated seeing.

"No, I'm not."

Truth be told, he was supposed to go to a meeting right about now, but you're much more important. The peck you pressed to his lips was more than worth it.

Fushiguro Megumi

"Hehehe, look here Megumi~" you smiled, turning your brightly accesorised phone towards him.

Instead of posing with you like you wanted, Megumi walked out of your camera's view without a word.

"Oh come on, babe... You never let me take pictures of you..." you whined, putting down your phone and pouting.

"I don't like my face being on social media." He crossed his arms, looking as straight faced as ever.

"Who said I was gonna post it on social media? I just wanted to show you off to my girlies... They don't believe that I actually have a boyfriend..." you looked down.

"...Fine." your head shot back up, meeting his eyes. He isn't a jokester, and he never teases you on purpose either, so this can only mean...

"Yayy! I love you, babes!!" You practically jumped him, attacking him with a flurry of kisses to his face. He acted annoyed and pushed you off, but you have a feeling he liked it deep inside.

"Hehehe, now your face is covered in kiss marks!" You smiled playfully at him.

Before he got a chance to wipe it off, you snapped a quick selfie that you're going to show off to your friends so hard later.

They can't claim he's just a friend you payed to take a photo with if he has your lipstick all over him, can they?

Gojo Satoru

"Kyaaah!" All your friends squealed at the sight of your boyfriend. Satoru smirked slightly, sitting down next to you and kissing your forehead.

"You weren't lying when you said he was super hot!" One of them said. "Ahhh, he really is super tall!" Another added, looking him up and down. You nodded excitedly in response, proud smile on your face.

Satoru didn't really want to meet your friends. He had nothing against them, but a date with you and only you was way better. Atleast in his humble opinion.

"You are SO. LUCKY." Your third friend giggled.

Satoru doesn't even pay attention to your friends fangirling over him, taking your freshly manicured hand into his and appreciating your nails. Blue and sparkly. Undoubtedly to match his eyes.

He raised your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles one by one, keeping eye contact with you the entire time and listening to your friends lose it in the background.

"Satoru...?!" You tried your best to not let your blush show. Suddenly, he pulled you close by your hips, whispering into your ear.

"Hey, here's a bright idea. Let's ditch your friends. After all, I'm in the mood for something sweet." You felt a shiver run through you at his words.

"Hey-Satoru!" You pulled on his ear, making him pout and promise not to do it again, but you have a feeling he won't stop trying.

[wonielvr]

[12:49] – nishimura riki

"hey, mind if I sit here?" riki asked quietly. the librarian hated him anyway, making a fuss like the last time he went to the school's library for a project would result in a one way ticket to hell from that grumpy old lady.

"nope. Why didn't you answer my calls?" you asked intriguingly, yet your face adorned a funny expression. The truth is you knew he wouldn't pick them up, that's just how riki is, all over the place, the kind of guy who would look for his sunglasses for hours unknowing of the fact they are on his head the entire time.

"I'm sorry, you know me... what did you call me for?" he stumbled over his words adorably. You patted twice on the gray cushioned seat next to you, signalling him to sit next to you.

"Do you remember that absolute jerk that entitled the seat next to me I saved for you in art class?" you asked snakingly. "Well he also claimed me as a partner for that stupid assignment! that freak!"

"unacceptable! I shall now call him and announce that my dear lady fell sick, and would like to do their assignment only along with those immune to the sickness, aka only her darling of a friend, me!" he went elegantly through the words with an unnecessary weird accent that was somehow meant to mock the british.

"well guess what, I confronted him, and now I'm forever stuck along the shadow of said darling of a friend. Say hello to your new assignment partner!"

"hey! Keep quiet there in the back, you pricks of the new generation," a hoarse voice suddenly called from under the big pile of books next to the two of you.

you and riki sure did have quite a laugh on account of the grouchy blob of sadness that was that woman, but after an expected long period of not being able to work, you managed to actually finish the assignment.

"did you know that I read-" he started confidently as if he was about to reveal the meaning of life to you.

"you can read?!" you interrupted him playfully. If he didn't like you as much as he does you would probably be left with a big red mark of his hand on your face for eternity.

he gave you a disappointed look in response and restarted the sentence. "I read about how physical closeness of friends through a hug or a kiss can reflect the way they view eachother romantically."

"I am absolutely sure you're making this up right now..." your sentence dragged while he leaned into you. Even though you were sure he was speaking nonsense, he was right after all. Your heartbeat was so loud in your ears you thought it would deafen you.

all the girls in the school theorised that riki is a majestic kisser, and they were all right. You never felt so passionate yet goalless, insisting yet high on cloud nine.

"out! now, you little turds! cumberworlds!" the woman reappeared out of nowhere once again, cursing as if she was a victorian woman well in the past. well, she seems old enough to be one.